Authors Note: thanks for your reviews and my beta for editing this. As always, the disclaimer is at the start of the story.

Chapter Five

Sunlight filtered through the branches of the large palm tree under which Hermione lay, causing patterns of light to dance across the pages of the book she held. The drone of bees was all around her as they went about their business and butterflies fluttered overhead, their movements languid. The scent of freshly cut grass mingled with bougainvillea drifted to her on the warm breeze and in spite of everything, she lay back enjoying the beauty of her surroundings.

She could see the small form of the house elf Teel, sitting not too far from her, his face turned towards her and she sighed. The creature had kept her company whenever Draco left her alone, always discrete but watchful of her every movement. She had tried to engage the elf in conversation once or twice during the night before, but he only seemed to speak French, a language to which she had had very little exposure and of which she barely knew ten words.

Her mind replayed the events of the last 36 hours and even now she shuddered, wishing that she'd left Megan and Angus to deal with Sophie without her help. Then none of this would have happened and she would still be at home in her small cottage, rather than here without a wand and in the company of Draco Malfoy of all people. She bit her lip, knowing there was no point in going over the past like this. What she had to do now was get away from here and quickly. Then maybe she could decide what to do and put her life into some semblance of order.

The sound of muted footsteps reached her and turning her head, she saw Draco making his way towards her followed by another house elf bearing a tray.

"Enjoying the sunshine?" he asked sitting down on the blanket beside her and grinning.

The elf placed the tray before them and with a crack disappeared.

"I thought you may like some refreshment," Draco continued, offering her a plate of French pastries. "These have just come out of the oven and are delicious!"

"We only had breakfast a while ago," she replied shaking her head. "I'm not hungry thanks."

He took one of the confections and leaning forward, placed it against her lips. "Go on, just one bite," he enticed. "I promise you won't regret it."

She inhaled the smell of the freshly baked pastry and knew she was fighting a losing battle. She bit into it and felt the pastry melt in her mouth. "All I seem to do here is eat," she took it from him. "It's not good for me."

"Says who?" he asked, helping himself and stretching out beside her. "We're enjoying a break, and one of the things people do when on Holiday is eat."

She refrained from pointing out that she didn't consider kidnap the same as a holiday and merely nodded. She had to be nice to him, for as things stood at the moment, she was defenceless in an alien environment. Not having used magic in so long, she was hesitant to try it and as a consequence, felt very vulnerable. In order to get out of this idyllic place and return to her every day life, she had to rely on the man sitting beside her, and that meant biting her tongue and curbing her temper, something she had been doing since she had woken up in the villa the day before.

Deciding to change the subject she asked, "How are your business interests coming along?"

His expression became sombre for a moment and then he shrugged. "Oh ok thanks. I've just sent back the documents father wanted me to look over, everything's as it should be. How was your friend? Still furious with me I bet."

He was referring to the telephone conversations he had insisted she make to both her family and Megan that morning. To her surprise, he had lent her his mobile to do this, leaving her alone. She suspected that he had probably recorded the conversations in some way, to replay later and hence remained on her guard as she assured both ladies that she was ok.

"Well you can't blame her. Meg and her family aren't used to wizards, so you scared the living daylights out of them when you turned up like that. Luckily the ministry agreed not to modify her and Angus's memories and I managed to convince her that I was in no danger," she replied.

"And the brat? Is she ok?" He helped himself to another pastry as he spoke.

"Sophie's not a brat thank you very much! In answer to your question, she's fine and doesn't remember anything of that night." She hesitated for a moment, and then went on. "Meg wanted to know when I'd be back and that's something I too would like to know."

"What's the hurry? Your job will be waiting for you, so there's no need to fret. Anyway, I want to spend some time with you. Surely you can't begrudge me that after all these years."

She paused, unsure how to answer that. "Of course not, but this isn't a good time to take a break," she finally said deciding on a diplomatic response.

"Oh? So, if I ask you to come away with me during your school holidays, you'll agree?" his brows were raised in disbelief as he brushed crumbs off his t- shirt.

"If we got on, I don't see why not."

He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then changed the subject. "So, thought any more about rejoining the wizarding world?"

He had asked her this question the night before and she had evaded it. Now however, the gleam in his eyes told her that he would not be diverted. "I don't know," she hedged. "There's a lot to be considered before I can make that decision."

"Such as what?"

"Oh all sorts," she answered vaguely. "My life in the muggle world for example. Rejoining the wizarding world would have consequences on that."

"Only if you wanted it to do so," he argued, moving closer to her. "You need to look forward Hermione, and the best way to do that is by taking an interest in the world you left."

She was silent as she fiddled with a blade of grass, conscious of the warmth of his body beside hers. There was of course, no way she could expect to go back to the life she had lead these past six years, Draco would make sure of that, but at the same time she didn't feel ready to confront the world she had left. There were too many deep-running scars which she was not sure had healed.

"The Fidelius," she said eventually turning to face him. "Is it completely destroyed?"

It was Draco's turn to be silent. Then he said, "I'm not sure to be honest. Father managed to find out where you worked and so on, although how he did so is a mystery to me. He couldn't locate your house itself, which makes me think that the charm must still be active to some degree and protecting your whereabouts to everyone but me. He only told me this morning which makes me think that he must have spent yesterday trying to find it." A worried frown crossed his face.

"Him and the rest of the wizarding world," she retorted. "You said yesterday that the press would be swarming all over it. Why the change of tune?"

"I had thought the charm was completely gone, but today Father told me otherwise."

Again that worried look crossed his face and she asked, "What's wrong? You look troubled."

"Father shouldn't be working himself like this, his health isn't up to it," he responded pensively.

Hermione's eyes widened with interest. "Oh? What's wrong with him, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Of course I don't, you're family after all. He has a weak heart, has done for a while now and all this pressure isn't good for him. He retired from the business a few years ago and I'm worried that the stress of things may be damaging."

She was tempted to ask how the formidable Lucius Malfoy had managed to succumb to something as trivial as a weak heart, but decided against it. There would be time enough to find out later. Now though, she had an idea.

"Hmm, the Press are probably giving him a hard time. I presume Hannah Abbot must have told the Ministry that she'd seen me?" she asked casually, already knowing the answer.

"Of course! It was headline news yesterday morning." He paused for a moment, and then went on, "Your old friends tried to storm into the Manor to see you when they heard; some things don't change and their inability to exercise subtlety is one of them."

Teaching had taught her not to give anything away in her body language and facial expression, so she looked back at him, her face impassive. Her stomach though was churning uncomfortably at this news.

"Your father must be feeling the pressure," she commented lightly, ignoring his last remark. Then taking a deep breath, said, "Forgive me for saying this, but do you think it's fair on him to put him through all this rigmarole, his health being so precarious? God forbid, but what if his heart was to protest at the strain of all this worry and pressure? I mean he has your organisation to run, plus the Press and the people I used to know to fend off. That's quite an undertaking for the healthiest of us."

He sighed and rubbed his temples. "He looked pretty haggard when I spoke to him just now, although he'd never admit it."

She put a hand on his arm, her heart beating quickly. "Look, wouldn't it be better if we went back to Britain? You know where I live now and probably every other detail about my life, so you can contact me as and when you like. Your father needs your help, it's not right to leave him and your mother to face the music, while we enjoy ourselves out here."

He considered her for a long moment, eyes raking over her face. Then getting up, he began to pace up and down in front of her, his expression remote. "I don't know," he muttered. "I really don't know."

She watched him with bated breath, not daring to speak or do anything that may jeopardise her chances of getting away.

"Six years I've spent looking for you, I can't just let you go like this. But Father-" Draco broke off and a thoughtful expression she didn't like crossed his face.

"What?" she asked warily.

"Stay here, I'll be back in a Minute," he responded briefly. Then he called, "Teel?"

He gave the elf a few brief instructions in French and left her. The elf sat down, his large eyes fixed unblinkingly on her.

Hermione sighed loudly and helped herself to another pastry, while wondering what Draco was up to. By the look in his eyes, it wasn't something she was going to like.

A few minutes later, he was back, a smile lighting his features. "Right, I've found a way of getting round the problem which although is not ideal, should benefit each of us," he said, dropping down beside her once more. "However, this doesn't mean that you can ignore what's happened." He waved a hand between them. "I've no intention of letting this…us, go so don't even consider running away."

"Fat chance," she muttered, guessing that the Fidelius had probably been overridden by the magic of their marriage vows, making her home accessible to him whenever he wanted.

"You can't blame me for not trusting you."

"I can't be blamed for wanting my own space," she challenged.

"Arguing won't get us anywhere," he responded resolutely. "Now, for my own peace of mind, I'm going to put a tracking charm on you. Nothing awful I assure you, but a bit of insurance in case you decide to go walk about on me."

"I would have thought that having access to my home was insurance enough," she retorted, not liking the sound of this tracking charm. She was sure that he would have used plenty of such charms on her already, so was wary of this one.

"You're not leaving here without it, so you've no choice."

"What does it involve?" she asked to give herself more time to think.

"Very little. Just a slight pricking of your finger."

"What? Blood Magic? No!" She drew away from him, eyes wide. "That's illegal, even I know that!"

"Not in France it's not, providing certain restrictions are observed of course. It's either that or stay here. Take your pick!" His expression was steely as he surveyed her.

"But, why? There are plenty of other charms that you could use,"

She protested, not liking the sound of this charm one bit.

"None are as effective as that one. Now, shall we get it over with?" He held out his hand for hers. "It won't take long and once it's done, we can each find the other simply by closing our eyes and imagining the other. The bond will apparate us to where the other is. Nice and neat, even if I do say so myself."

She hesitated, torn between her desire to get away and reluctance to go through with this charm which involved blood, something she had been taught verged on dark magic.

"I don't know," she prevaricated, unsure what to do.

"Hermione, it won't hurt I promise. As you said, Father's under a lot of pressure at the moment and being ill, isn't coping with it that well. The charm will ensure that we can both find each other if the need arises, nothing more, I've made sure of that." He took her face between his hands and caressed her jaw with the tips of his fingers. "Do you think I'd use any charm that would harm you?"

"No, but-"

"It's just a stronger version of the tracking charm, that's all," he coaxed, tucking a few escaped strands of hair behind her ears. "Once I've performed the charm, I'll take you to your home, ok?"

She bit her lip in thought, knowing that she had little choice but to agree if she wanted to leave the villa. Wishing she had some knowledge of what she was getting herself into, she nodded glumly.

He dropped his hands and pulled out his wand. "Excellent, if I could have your hand."

Reluctantly, she gave him her hand and watched with trepidation as he made a small cut to her finger with his wand. Then he repeated the same procedure with his own finger and before she could pull away, pressed the two cuts together so that the blood oozing from both was mixed. At the same moment, he muttered a few words in French and withdrew his hand. A wand flick later, both cuts had been healed and he sat back.

"There you go, all done," he beamed. "I'll accompany you to your home just to make sure that I can enter it and so on before going to our head office in central London." Then his expression sobering, he went on, "I warn you though, one attempt to hide yourself in any way and I'll cast a binding charm on you so strong, you won't be able to move five steps away from me without feeling the effects."

She opened her mouth to deliver a scathing rejoinder but stopped herself. She was close to getting away from here and didn't want to do anything that would make him change his mind. "I doubt the protection spells and this blood charm will let me," she responded with a bitter smile. "You've no need to worry."

A cynical laugh greeted these words. "Oh, but I do worry my darling Hermione, I worry all the time and with good reason."

Choosing to ignore this remark, she asked instead, "So when do we go?"

"As soon as it can be arranged I think. I'll have the portkey drop us off at the end of Meddowtree Avenue and we can walk to your house from there."

So, he knew the name of her road, she wondered how he had found out but decided not to enquire just yet.

He was thoughtful for a moment, then called "Ett?"

There was a crack announcing the arrival of Ett, one of the few English speaking elves in the Villa and Hermione felt her heart lift.

"Master called for Ett?" the elf squeaked, eyes moving over them curiously.

"Yes, prepare the portkey; we're going to return to Britain."

The elf's ears drooped at this news and she stared at them, her large eyes filling with tears. "Isn't Master pleased with us? We was thinking that as Master has the young mistress with him that he would be happy now and stay for a while."

Draco let out an impatient sigh. "The reasons are too complex to go into but be assured it has nothing to do with you or any of the other elves. Your housekeeping is as good as ever."

The elf perked up at this praise and pointing a finger at the tray vanished with it.

"I must be mad to even be considering this," he muttered, holding out a hand and drawing Hermione to her feet. "Come on, before I change my mind."

They walked through the peaceful gardens, both immersed in their own thoughts. Hermione wondered when she'd see this luxurious villa again with its colourful and tranquil grounds and a tiny part of her was sorry that she couldn't stay longer. In the last twenty-four hours, she had been pampered more than she had ever been before. It was no wonder the Malfoys' loved this place. Even the weather here was favourable, warm and barmy, reminding her of summer rather than autumn.

Ett greeted them as they stepped on to the terrace, holding out a small ornamental box covered in tiny shells. Draco looked thoughtfully at the box, then turned his penetrating gaze on Hermione and she held her breath, knowing the struggle he must be going through. Finally he sighed again and took the box. "Activate it when I say so," he instructed the elf. Then offered the box to Hermione and trying not to look too eager, she grasped the other end.

"I'll probably regret this," he muttered and nodded to the elf. Ett raised a long forefinger to point at the box and instantly, Hermione felt herself jerked forward as though a hook had been attached to her middle and her feet left the ground, her hand glued to the portkey which was speeding them back to Britain.

She had shut her eyes against the myriad of colours that pressed in on her from all sides and so was not prepared when her feet slammed into the ground. She staggered and almost lost her balance.

"Careful," Draco said, catching her arm and steadying her.

She leaned against him while the world around her stopped spinning. Then slowly she opened her eyes and stared bemusedly at the thicket of trees by which they were surrounded. A cold breeze skimmed over her exposed arms and she shivered. There was no sun to be seen, and dark clouds scudded across the sky.

"Are you ok?" Draco asked, stowing the portkey in his pocket. "Not having used a portkey in so long, you probably feel disorientated."

"You're telling me," she responded, stepping away from him. "Come on, I know where we are. The sooner we get in doors the better it'll be. It's freezing here compared to France."

She moved out from behind the thicket and began to make her brisk way up her road, Draco walking beside her. He wrapped an arm round her shoulders and pulled her against his side. She was grateful for his body heat, so she didn't pull away. She still felt disorientated but was glad to be back in familiar territory once more.

"My house is a little further along." She said, hoping that none of the neighbours were looking through their windows at this moment and quickened her steps. The last thing she needed was nosy neighbours questioning her about Draco.

"Nice place, very picturesque," he commented looking round him with interest as they walked along the deserted road.

To her relief, they reached her cottage without meeting anyone and she frowned as they walked up the front path. She would have to unearth her extra set of keys as those she normally used were at Megan's house. Moving round to the flowerbed beneath the bay window, she bent down and inserted a finger into the small gap between the stone of the bed and the wall. She soon found the loose stone for which she was looking and prising it up with difficulty, pulled from beneath it, her emergency set of keys.

"Ingenious hiding place," Draco commented leaning against the fence watching her. "A simple unlocking charm would have been just as adequate and a lot less hassle you know."

Ignoring him, she unlocked the front door and stepped into the house, Draco right behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief as the heavy front door closed behind them with a satisfying thud. It was good to be home and out of that cold wind.

He followed her into the sitting room, his eyes sweeping round it in blatant curiosity. "Cosy," he murmured, waving a hand round the room. "Did you buy this place?"

"No, it was my grandmother's but she died and it stood empty for a while. Then I moved in."

He crossed to the windows and looked out on to the neat garden. "Hmm, yes, very nice indeed. At least I can see the place and have access to it. I rather like the fact that only I can do so, it'll give you privacy from the rest of our world."

She bit back a sarcastic response and settled for nodding.

He drew out his wand and began to move it in complicated patterns through the air, brows furrowed in concentration. "Hmmm, there're very powerful wards here, most of which I've never seen before. I'm no expert on such matters, but even I can tell that the wards on this place would do Gringott's proud. Yes, very interesting indeed."

Hermione felt her heart sink. Soon he would return to asking her about the identity of her Secret-Keeper, something he had wanted to know since she had woken up at the villa the day before and refused to tell him.

"So who cast these wards?" he asked predictably enough. "It can't have been Dumbledore, so who else?"

"Does it matter?" she retorted, trying not to look at the wand in his hand.

"Not in the least now. I just wondered as the spell work that went into creating some of these is pretty impressive. The person obviously knew what they were doing. I could use the services of him or her in our offices."

She was silent and he sighed loudly.

"Fine, don't tell me then. Either way, it doesn't matter any more. I should really go now and see what's happening in the office. I'll be back this evening though, shall I bring dinner with me?"

"If you don't mind, I've lots to do today. For a start, the plants need watering, then there's the marking I need to get done that I missed before and so on."

"Not in the least." He moved to stand in front of her and caught her to him in a fierce hug, his arms wrapping tightly about her, so that she was pressed up against him with not a hair's breath between them. He pressed his face into her hair, his hands splaying out across her back in a possessive gesture and trapping her arms by her sides.

"What-"

"You're mine, remember that," he muttered, shaking her for emphasis. "Mine and no one else's!" Taking his left arm from around her, he tipped her face up and pressed his mouth to hers in a thorough and demanding kiss which left her gasping.

"Kiss me back Hermione," he ordered lifting his head.

"But," she stammered taken aback, "I can't…"

"You were perfectly happy to kiss that other man, so go on. Kiss your own husband. I won't release you until you do." His arms tightened about her and she could feel the contours of his body pressing into hers.

She stared up at him, irritation rising up within her. "Why should I?"

"Because I'd like you to do so. I can't be expected to do all the giving in our relationship now can I? Anyway, a kiss is a small price to pay for being returned to your home earlier than you'd envisaged."

"Fine," she snapped, and pulling his head down to hers, kissed him fleetingly before drawing back.

"So clinical," he mocked. "Dear, dear, I'll have to teach you how to kiss with feeling and not like a proverbial iceberg, but not now." Then he released her, breathing hard. "I'm afraid to let you out of my sight, you know that?"

"There's no need to be, the Fidelius is no-longer effective on you," she replied, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice.

"That's true, but still." He drew her to him again. "I'd better go and see how father's getting on, I'll come 'round about 7, is that ok?"

"Yes, fine."

"Until later then." He kissed her again, then stepping back, he turned and with a crack had disapparated, leaving her alone.

Hermione sat down on the sofa, greatful for it's solid bulk beneath her and leaned back. She savoured the feeling of being completely alone, something she had not been for a good two days now. She lay back and let the silence engulf her.

Her mind went back over the last two days and she was surprised that Draco had let her go as easily as he had. His father must be quite unwell for him to break off their time together. Maybe the war had had a detrimental effect on the man; either way, she had little sympathy for him.

The yearning that had reared its ugly head the night before now rose up within her once more. It had attacked her as she lay in a splendid four-poster bed in one of the best bedrooms with Teel watching over her. The yearning to hold a wand in her hand and feel the magic pulsing through her own body was great and she wasn't sure could be denied for too much longer. She had suppressed it these past six years although it had been extremely difficult at first. It seemed that being with Draco and the house-elves had triggered it again and this time, it was proving even harder to fight. The sight of Draco's wand hadn't helped matters and she had wanted to snatch it from his hand and let the magic flow through her.

The shrill ringing of the phone made her jump and she stared at the instrument in alarm. Had someone in the wizarding world managed to get hold of her phone number even though she was ex-directory?

Getting up slowly, she walked over to the still ringing phone and picked up the receiver.

"Hermione, is that you?" Quentin's voice came over the line and she let out a sigh of relief.

"Quentin! Thank heaven's it's you," she blurted out, collapsing on the chair by the phone.

"Your two-way mirror, where is it? We need to talk and I can't be sure the line isn't bugged."

"I'll go and find it and call you when I've done so."

"Good, be quick." He rang off and she replaced the receiver.

Running upstairs, she went into her bedroom and began opening draws looking for the small mirror Quentin had given her four years or so ago. She finally located it in the back of the wardrobe behind her jewellery box and with trembling fingers, unwrapped the tissue from around it. She had only used the mirror on a handful of occasions, usually to request a meeting with Quentin. She was now glad she had it. Wiping the glass free of dust and grime, she called "Quentin Trimble" and waited.

Instantly, Quentin's face appeared in the mirror and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hermione, I suspect we've not much time so I'll be quick. Are you ok?" he asked with concern. "When I heard that you'd been found, I thought I'd have a heart attack. What happened?"

"It was Sophie, Megan's youngest. She's the magical child you told me of a few weeks ago. She had a tantrum, the shelf on the wall flew off and hit me. Of course that activated the safety vow and before I knew it, Draco was in the room with us."

"I was afraid that something like this would happen," he sighed. "Then what?"

"I'm not too sure. Draco says that he took me back to Malfoy Manor and a healer mended my left arm and shoulder which had been broken. Then he took me to their Villa in the south of France and that's where we've been since. I only got back a few minutes ago."

"Yes, I know. I put a charm on the house to let me know when you returned and was alone. Hermione, are you ok though? He didn't do anything to you…"

She smiled grimly. "Yes, I'm fine. No, nothing happened although that wasn't for lack of trying on his part."

Quentin snorted derisively. "I bet! Luckily, your marriage vows won't let him rape you so at least you're protected on that front."

"What happens if he tries?" she asked with interest.

"From what I can gather, he won't feel the urge to try. Rape is the same as harming you and he won't do that. It goes against the nature of the vows themselves; I suspect that if he felt so negatively about you, the marriage could never have taken place. Mind you, I'm surprised to see you back so quickly."

"He only let me go because he was worried about his father. Apparently Lucius Malfoy's in bad health and Draco didn't think he could cope with handling things alone." She paused then continued, "He put a tracking charm on me that I don't like the sound of though."

"Oh? "

"He insisted on it. He used Blood to seal the charm by pricking both our fingers and letting the blood intermingle. Then he said something in French and that was it."

Quentin was silent for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. Then he said, "I think I know of the charm. It's one the French developed in the tenth century and acts like a tracking charm, but allows the instigator to find his or her err, partner, simply by imagining him or her. The other person can do this as well but it's much harder. Trust him to use that one."

"Is it dangerous in some way?" she asked, wishing she could find out more about it for herself.

"No, just intrusive. Young men used to use it on their fiancés. Of course once the marriage had been consummated, the charm was no-longer active as the protection spells invoked during the ceremony were activated."

She digested this information in silence. Then hesitantly, asked, "Is it really such big news then?"

There was no need for her to explain further for he nodded. "Yes. The papers are full of speculation about you and more than one person has tried to delve into your muggle life by using various charms. I've managed to cover the information up, but not before Lucius Malfoy found out where you worked and so on."

"Thanks." She smiled into the mirror. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

"So what now Hermione?" he asked gently. "What are you going to do now, rejoin the wizarding world?"

"To be honest, I don't know," she replied slowly. "So much has happened, I need time to process it all and pull myself together. Luckily the Fidelius is still active to everyone other than Draco - that gives me a bit of time to think things through."

"If it's any comfort, I've put a blocking spell on your house so that magic can't be detected. I didn't do so before as I wasn't sure how it would react to the other spells on the house but thought you'd need it now. You know where I am if you need me," he responded. "Now, that husband of yours will no doubt pay you an unexpected call, to try out that charm if nothing else, so I'd better say good bye."

"Yes, very true. Thanks though for everything that you've done," she said glancing warily over her shoulder.

"Take care Hermione and speak soon."

Then his face was gone and the mirror showed her reflection, frowning back at her from the glass. Swiftly she repacked it and put it back in the wardrobe. Quentin was right, Draco was liable to turn up at any moment and it wouldn't do for him to see her talking to Quentin.

She busied herself, opening windows and watering the plants, the mundane tasks helping to soothe her taut nerves. She was sorting through the mail when she felt the slight displacement of air behind her and arms wrap themselves around her waist.

"My, you do look busy," Draco purred in her ear.

Stiffening, she turned to face him. "I thought you weren't visiting until this evening, has there been a change in plan?"

"No, I just thought I'd try out the charm, so here I am," he smiled. "Aren't you going to welcome me?"

"I'm rather busy," she glanced pointedly at the letters on the hall table and he gave her a wounded look.

"I know when I'm not wanted," he said with a mock-sigh. "Ah well, I'd better get back to work. See you later." Then before she could pull away, he had kissed her lightly and disapparated.

Slowly she put down the letters she was holding, knowing that he had satisfied himself that the charm was active. Hopefully now, he wouldn't feel the need to barge in on her before the evening.

She went into the sitting room and stared out at the garden, her mind in turmoil. What should she do now? Draco probably knew all there was to know about her, and was determined to be a part of her life. It was reasonable to assume that if he knew all about her, his parents did so as well. Luckily, they couldn't visit her home which was still protected by the Fidelius. She shuddered at the thought of Lucius Malfoy visiting her home whenever he chose.

She felt trapped; no-longer could she hide from the life she had once lead, it seemed to be catching up with her with alarming rapidity. She wondered exactly what the wizarding world knew about her and felt a feeling of helplessness wash over her. Maybe she could ask Draco to bring a copy of the Daily Prophet with him later, but did she really want to know more about the wizarding world than she needed to?

Absently, she watched a blackbird foraging in the soil of the vegetable plot for worms and envied it its freedom. It was answerable to no one, doing what it liked and not having to look over its shoulder every ten seconds. How she wished she could be so free, to travel where she liked without having to worry about being recognised.

As it had been doing since the day before, the idea prodded insistently at her mind and she frowned. It would certainly give her some protection from Draco and his awful family. However, she couldn't remember the last time she had transformed into her animagus form and wasn't even sure that she was able to any more. It was over six years ago that she had last attempted the transformation and then she had only been able to do it due to constant practice. Did she dare risk it?

She began to pace the room, her mind dwelling on the hours she, Ron and Harry had spent practicing for the transformation. The hours of stretching and flexing, in preparation, she would not easily forget. Being much fitter now, this shouldn't be the biggest of her problems. Hopefully with practice, she should regain the suppleness that was needed. She wondered where the book was that had detailed the exercises and had a nasty feeling that Harry had it. Brilliant, that would mean that she would need to get hold of it.

They had also needed the aid of the potion to help them. She didn't dare attempt the transformation without it, it was too risky. There had been a charm which she could have used, but again, that was in the book that Harry had, which left the potion, the recipe for which she had somewhere. Now, cut off from the wizarding world, she had no way of obtaining the ingredients for the potion. She supposed she could ask Quentin to get them for her, but hesitated. How would he react to the news that she was an unregistered animagus? She wasn't even sure where he was right now. For all she knew, he could be at home in New Zealand, making it impractical for him to send her the ingredients.

There was no one else she could ask. Draco was of course out of the question and she had no contact with anyone else in the wizarding world. She supposed she could ask Chris Langford, the son of one of the other village residence but he was at Hogwarts right now. Anyway, it would raise a lot of suspicion if she were to make such an odd request of a boy she barely knew. No, there was only one certain way she could hope to get hold of the ingredients and that was by getting them herself.

One thing was startlingly clear, which ever way she looked at the situation. She could no-longer avoid using magic. Reluctantly she acknowledged that it was time to resume use of her wand. The thought did nothing to cheer her mind but her body, denied of this life-giving force for so long, rejoiced.