Chapter Twenty-Two

Remaining perfectly still while being held tightly in a sleeping man's arms was no easy feat. Every time she took a breath Hermione worried she was about to wake Jack up. It seemed awfully cruel to do that to him when he seemed so exhausted. She could tell just by looking at the creases around his eyes and the accompanying dark circles that he hadn't been using the time apart to sleep. Maybe he couldn't. She certainly had her own issues trapped inside the suitcase finding her rest. The bed might have been oddly comfortable for being a prison, but she struggled with turning her mind off.

It was terribly selfish to be thankful that Jack was forced to endure captivity with her. Perhaps later when they were somehow miraculously rescued, a fate that seemed less and less possible the longer the time wore on, she would be able to find that sense of guilt she was currently lacking. It was very likely that she wouldn't survive the ordeal. That was something that she knew she had to come to terms with. Kidnappings, especially those that continued for too long, rarely had happy endings. What was the statistic? If the victim wasn't found within seventy-two hours, they began looking for a body? She'd been gone over a week.

Never, not from the very beginning of her bizarre relationship with Jack did she think they would get a happy ending. It didn't seem possible. There were far too many factors working against their favor to be able to grow old together surrounded by dozens of children and grandchildren. Though that rarely seemed like the sort of happy ending she wanted, when it came to Jack, that's the only future she could picture. It was just a shame that it was a fantasy that could never come true.

Most likely, she would die inside the suitcase or immediately after being removed from its confines once it was determined she was no longer any use to the people who put her inside it to begin. Over and over again she'd heard that they wanted to make her an example to deter anyone else who might try to pick up her work and try to continue. Examples were usually painful, nasty, violent. Whatever happened to her, it wouldn't be pleasant. She could imagine her body broken into a thousand pieces and then tossed into the middle of Diagon Alley or dumped outside the Ministry of Magic just as Jack had been years earlier. Her remains would need to be seen to be effective.

And Jack was sure to be collateral damage. Though it was sweet that he traveled all that way across the world from his hiding place to warn her about the danger she was in, he shouldn't have bothered. What could he have done to stop it? The fact that he was imprisoned in the suitcase with her was proof that he couldn't do a damn thing. Perhaps it was just her fate. Nearly from the very beginning of her life inside the secretive magical world there had been someone or something out there that wanted her dead. Eventually she had to lose.

Hermione knew she was being far too melancholy for so early in the morning. The fact that even in his sleep Jack still continued to tighten his arms around her or nuzzle his face against the side of her head only made it worse. She hated that part of her was relishing in the feel of having him at her side. Was it wrong to be grateful that in her last few hours or days remaining on Earth she had a bright spot? Recognizing the harsh reality that he would be dead too because of her didn't help assuage any of her guilt. But, she had to admit that she would be an absolute fool to waste any opportunity fate decided to give.

The rustling of the blankets on the other bed sounded louder than usual. Perhaps she was just overly attuned to the sounds in the suitcase because she was so determined not to ruin the moment she was having with Jack. There would only be a finite number of mornings she could ever hope to wake up in his arms. She had to appreciate each and every one of them as long as she could. Kingsley really wasn't being terribly noisy at all, but she wished he could somehow make himself a little bit quieter. Even as a captive with little chance of escape, he was a man who appreciated his routines. After he made his bed with a precision Hermione was sure his mother or any drill sergeant in the military would've been proud to see, the wizard headed straight for the bathroom.

All plans to remain perfectly silent and still to allow Jack to keep sleeping were tossed out the metaphorical window once she heard the clicking of the lock on the bathroom door. If she was only going to have a few days at most with the man she loved, she wouldn't waste a second. As soon as she felt confident that Kingsley wasn't going to come back out that door, she stretched up to start kissing the wizard's neck.

Almost immediately Jack woke up. Clearly he wasn't one of those men who could sleep through just about anything, including the Hogwarts Express hurtling through their bedrooms. She could see his lips stretch into a satisfied smile as her lips and tongue made their way up and down his neck and across his face. It took him a few moments to remember where they were exactly. No longer in the abandoned house free from any hope of interruption, he tried to push her away.

"Hermione, what are you doing? The Minister…"

"Kingsley likes to take long, very long showers. He says they're the only things keeping him sane locked up in here. We have at least half an hour before he comes back out."

Even armed with that assurance Jack still seemed reluctant to give in to his baser desires. He was, despite having once been persuaded to become a Death Eater, a man of honor. Or maybe he just didn't relish the idea of their temporary roommate walking in on them in an embarrassing position. The quarters were already close enough at it was. he seemed on the verge of pushing her away up until the moment her hand slid down into the waistband of his trousers.

"You really are evil, you know that? I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because you love me, remember?"

"As if I could possibly forget."

Jack deftly flipped her over onto her back in one swift motion. Even before she could giggle, his lips were over hers. Because there was always the chance that Kingsley might cut his shower short, they were very quick. Clothing was hardly even removed. Who had the time? It didn't matter. Hermione was just relieved that she had the opportunity to be with the man again. For just a few minutes in the narrow, unfortunately squeaky bed, she was able to forget where they were. She could close her eyes, feel Jack inside her and around her, and dream that they were safe and secure in their own private little world. It was difficult to return to reality.

"I should've thrown you over my shoulder six years ago and run like hell to Aruba."

His kiss threatened to break her heart. Why did they have to bring up the past when they were having such a wonderful moment? It was never going to be destined to last. She carefully rolled out from underneath him to adjust her clothing.

"Yes, you should've."

"I'll always regret that."

"Don't. Let's stop regretting the past and just appreciate that we are here together now."

With Jack sitting up on the edge of the bed, she was able to slide her arms around his neck to kiss him again. He didn't squander the opportunity to hold her closer. So enthralled were they in each other, they didn't hear the sound of the water turning off in the bathroom. When the door to the bathroom opened, Jack had to scramble to cover his open trousers with a blanket. Kingsley stepped out of the bathroom, took one look at them, and sighed.

"Should I start knocking on the bathroom door before I exit?"

Hermione rolled her eyes to Kingsley's amusement.

"I remember what it was like to be young and in love. I'm not that old. I just wish we could have separate bedrooms."

Only Jack seemed to still be embarrassed by the circumstances out of the three. After fastening his trousers under the blanket, he made an excuse to escape to the only room he could for a shower. Alone with Kingsley again, Hermione grew nervous about what he was going to say next. Sometimes he behaved like an old friend. Others he was a protective older brother or a very overprotective father. Depending on the situation, she wasn't sure which Kingsley she would get.

"The walls are very thin inside this suitcase. I heard you both declare your love last night."

"Oh."

"It was very… sweet. Honestly, I'd like to know more about how that happened. You know he was suspected of being a Death Eater at one time."

"That's not true. He was never on any of the lists. He just chose his friends poorly."

Perhaps her rush to lie and defend Jack came off a little too fervent. Kingsley only smirked that knowing smirk of his that could be both charming and infuriating.

"Of course the rumors couldn't be true. Who would ever believe that Hermione Granger would fall in love with a Death Eater? Absolutely preposterous idea. I'd never believe it in a second."

He winked at her, drawing another dramatic eye roll out of her. How could he be enjoying their uncomfortable discussion? She couldn't wait for it to be over.

"If I ever did fall in love with a Death Eater, he would have to be a really terrible one." She nearly sighed in frustration. That was not what she meant. Kingsley's knowing smirk wasn't helping. "I mean, he would have to be just rubbish at being one."

"Naturally. Now all of these years have gone by since the war. Why have you never told me about the wizard you are so clearly madly in love with?"

One truth about Kingsley that would never change no matter how much time passed: he was an unrepentant gossip. If there was something interesting to know, he wanted to know it. Frequently he liked to pull her into his office to share the latest tantalizing tidbits he'd learned about their coworkers. When it came to her life, he was even worse. There was nothing he didn't want to know. She didn't know how to answer his question without admitting she'd just told him a huge lie about Jack's past.

"Because I wasn't a wizard who deserved her. I'm still not, but I'm planning on spending the rest of my life protecting her and trying to be the wizard who does deserve her."

Neither of them noticed Jack had stepped out of the bathroom until he spoke. Kingsley's smirk disappeared, but she knew him well enough to know that he was far from angry. He nodded his head once as he met Jack's eyes.

"Excellent idea."

Perhaps he shouldn't have barged into their private conversation. It was rude after all and even Jack had to admit he was curious to know what she would say about him when he wasn't around to hear. Didn't most people look forward to those rare opportunities? He hadn't been able to linger too long in the shower. Once he stepped out and turned the water off, he could hear every word they said. He pushed away the embarrassing reminder that the Minister likely heard every single bed squeak only a short time earlier to listen. He knew he needed to offer his input. As a man who clearly felt it his duty to keep Hermione protected, the Minister deserved to know the truth.

His heart soared when she offered him a shy smile after making his declaration. The Minister's opinion meant a great deal to her. If he could earn even a little bit of the man's respect, that would go a long way to ensuring their happiness in the future. Assuming they had one of those, of course. Jack vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to earn the other wizard's trust and respect. It wouldn't be easy if he already suspected he was once a Death Eater.

"You can start by helping us figure out how to escape from this infernal prison. We've been trying for a week now but maybe having a fresh perspective will help."

Unfortunately, it didn't. The Minister's hopes were misplaced in poor Jack. He was eager and willing to help, of course, but it didn't matter. Their captors knew what they were doing when they chose the damned suitcase as their prison. Every possible escape route seemed to have been taken care of before they were ever dumped inside.

For hours they tried everything they could think of to try to escape for nothing. A third perspective did help for a little while. Soon Jack had no new suggestions. The trap door was over six meters from the floor. Even when they stacked every piece of furniture the small room possessed into a pile and climbed on top, they couldn't reach. Jack might not have been as large physically as his cousin, but that didn't mean the Minister was strong enough to throw him up high enough. Nor were either wizard willing to trust Hermione wouldn't further injure her sore shoulder if they tried to toss her up. It was a sad conclusion to make that only a ladder being lowered down from the trap door would allow them to climb out.

They tried to make holes in the walls of the suitcase hoping that they could crawl out that way. With no tools except for their bare hands, it was an impossible task. Nothing they tried made any sort of dent in the leather walls. Likely they were all reinforced with magic. The entire room was built with magic and they would need magic to escape. Wandless magic was a practical fantasy for all but the few who had been encouraged to use it from childhood. None of the three were capable of the concentration and skill that required.

Jack remembered how the suitcase moved subtly when he tripped over it Haldor's office. When he mentioned that, Hermione brought up how it shook in the hospital room right before she was captured. Kingsley explained that he had been so furious about being trapped inside the damned case that he had gone a bit mad running around the small room throwing himself into the walls hoping that he could somehow tip the whole thing over.

"If we knocked the suitcase on its side, we wouldn't need a ladder to get to the trap door. We could just crawl out."

Both of the wizards were skeptical that Hermione's plan would work, but as they had nothing else to suggest, they didn't immediately rush to disrupting the theory. They started at one side of the narrow room and ran as quickly as they could to throw themselves into the opposite wall. The suitcase moved, but not nearly enough. Because her shoulder was still not full healed, they banded together to refuse to let Hermione join them. After a few minutes of far from gentle persuasion, they all ran at the side again with the instruction that she was to use her uninjured shoulder to ram into the wall. It was all for nothing.

The day was frustrating beyond description. All three of the poor occupants of the ridiculous prison collapsed into bed exhausted. Any hope that the next day would bring better results in their attempt to tunnel their way out to freedom was quashed. At least in Jack's opinion which he didn't dare to speak aloud. They were reduced to the indignity of waiting for a rescue that very likely wasn't going to come.

As tired as he was, Jack still couldn't turn his mind off. It was a frustrating habit he wished he knew how to stop. Sleep wasn't always the easiest for him. He could remember even as a child looking over at a peaceful snoring Thorfinn content to fall asleep anywhere and being jealous. His cousin Craig was the same way. For two men that hated the very ground that the other walked on, there were numerous similarities that neither of them was willing to admit.

Reminders that he hadn't been able to get them out of their prison were constant. he'd already made his dramatic promise to the Minister that he would spend the rest of his life protecting Hermione and in the first day he couldn't even figure out a way to get them out of a damned suitcase. What a failure he was continuing to be. That was all he had ever been from the moment he was born. All he seemed to be able to do well was make poor decisions. Hardly something to be proud of.

A subtle movement on his arm tore him out of his increasingly depressing thoughts. Glad for any sort of reason to escape, he looked down to see Hermione lightly tracing her fingertips across his arm. He thought she was asleep. Maybe she had been and his thoughts were too loud. He'd certainly been accused of making others uncomfortable when his thoughts turned tumultuous. Perhaps it was all of the sighing he tended to do even when he was convinced he was being perfectly silent.

She traced the outline of one of the colorful tattoos on his arm. How she was able to see anything in the dim light, he didn't know. It seemed to take a long time for their eyes to adjust properly once the sole lamp in the entire room was switched off. Jack tightened his grip on her, grateful that she was there in his arms despite it being the absolute worse case scenario he could imagine. Feeling her nestled against his side was something that he was certain he would never get used to.

"What is this tattoo? It looks like a badger but not any badger I've ever seen before."

Of all the tattoos he possessed, she would ask him about that one. It was almost to be expected really. Jack chuckled softly, a little embarrassed to admit the truth. He'd never told anyone what it was or why he had it. No one ever cared enough to ask. The few people who ever saw him without his shirt on usually didn't linger around long enough to be curious.

"Badgers are different all around the world. The ones we have here are cute and seem friendly, but they aren't like that everywhere. In some parts of the world, they're downright frightening and definitely not cute."

"Why get a badger at all? You weren't a Hufflepuff. And if you were trying to just get a terrifying animal, why not pick one a little more impressive?"

"No, I'm not a Hufflepuff, but nearly my entire family was."

He chose not to respond to the part about terrifying animals. Yes, she was right. A tiger would've been far more impressive. Maybe even a giant, venomous snake would've been a better choice for the Slytherin. Of course he was only in that House because his best friend was sure to be a Slytherin and he begged the Sorting Hat to put him where it put Thorfinn. It wanted to put him in Hufflepuff, but he knew that Slytherins liked to pick on Hufflepuffs. Imagining a day when his best friend would pick on him was too much. He would've remained seated on that stool until the Sorting Hat called out Slytherin if it didn't take his desire into account.

The conversation was far from over. He knew that just as he knew how to breathe. Hermione wouldn't be satisfied with a half-answer. History had proven that time and time again. The woman was tenacious. Should he be completely honest and risk his embarrassment or would she be able to see through even the tiniest lie? He cleared his throat as he considered how he would continue. His love for his family was never in doubt, but that wasn't why he got that particular tattoo. When he and Thorfinn traveled to Africa, he'd been fascinated by all of the wildlife. None more so than their badgers. They'd been so fearless. Anything that small that could be brave enough to take on a lion was impressive.

"Some badgers have been known to go after other animals far bigger and far more dangerous than they are without fear or care that they're in danger. A small, little aggressive animal that fights against predators far larger than they are? They reminded me of you."

"You got a tattoo of an ugly, mean rodent because it reminded you of me?"

Quiet chuckling from the other bed caught them both by surprise. Clearly they hadn't been whispering as quietly as they thought they were. The Minister turned his head to look over his shoulder and add his own contribution to the conversation.

"Badgers aren't rodents, dear."

"Close enough."

Jack worried that she'd been insulted by his inadvertent tribute. Unsure what he would say to try to smooth it all out, he wasn't able to say anything before the Minister swooped in to help.

"A fierce little tenacious creature always ready to fight even against foes that are more powerful and deadly? If that's not you, Hermione, than I don't know what else is."

Her dramatic eye roll was adorable. She didn't even try, did she? Neither wizard could keep from chuckling, especially not the Minister.

"I suppose it would be too obvious to have my name tattooed on you instead."

"Kiss of death, I've been told. You tattoo someone's name on you and it's only a matter of time before the relationship is over. Or so I've heard. I have no idea if that's true."

"It would be terrible for our relationship to end before it even began."

Jack kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tighter against him again. There was no possible way she could be too close to him in that moment.

"Our relationship began the moment you saved my life. It never ended."

"Oh, dear, then I suppose I should confess to you that I haven't been entirely faithful all of these years."

Likely it would never get easier listening to her mention the other men that had been in her life when he was on the run, but he could see the humor in her teasing yet sarcastic remark. He chuckled even as he pushed away the stab of jealousy that threatened to make him sick to his stomach. In a perfect world, he would've been the only man to touch her for the past six years.

"Neither have I though I was never nearly engaged."

"We could pretend none of those relationships happened. I'd certainly like to forget them."

Nothing would make him happier. It wasn't as if he'd found the least bit of joy with any of the women he'd met in his travels. Most of them were nice enough, he supposed, but none of them were her. His kiss was a silent agreement to her terms. As so often happened when they kissed, he forgot they weren't the only ones in the world. A rather loud clearing of the Minister's throat brought them back to the crush of a depressing reality.

"I'd really like to get some sleep now so if you two would please wait until we've made our escape to be young and in love, I would really appreciate it."