Voldemort had kept away from the manor for the last week. The interrogations were completed after the first three days. Rabastan Lestrange' punishment for having a traitor in his home was enough to make all of the dark lord's inner circle more defensive over their domains. It tempted Hermione to slip conflicting notes and passages between them again just to watch them squirm.

She spent her time hiking thinking of all the alternate ways she may have to kill Voldemort. The knife Malfoy gifted her was always a valuable option. If that failed, she could also swipe a wand off a death eater and use it to hit him with the same slicing hex he used on Katie. One morning she tripped over a rock on her way in and started to imagine bashing Voldemort's head with it. She picked it up and put it in her bag. Just in case.

Voldemort would have to enter the manor on foot from the apparation point, just like all the other guests. Hermione waited to the side of the front steps most days for his arrival. It stopped her from getting distracted by all the business going on inside. It forced her to face the fact that the large mansion at her back was not her home. It also helped her avoid the people within it.

The romance novels were not lying when they described the agony of longing for someone they couldn't have. It was a special variety of torture.

There was an awkward energy between the group of friends. Draco and Goyle would be whispering to one another and would stop the second the others walked up. Something had happened to cause a divide among them. Unsurprisingly, it appeared the most heated words exchanged were between Draco and Blaise.

After a few days Malfoy and Blaise started throwing fists at each other. It contributed to Hermione's agony as she longed to rectify things between them. Wasn't it hard enough that they didn't have each other? Creating distance between him and his friends would only make him lonelier. Assuming he felt as lonely as she did. Perhaps she was only projecting.

The only place where there was fruit or bread left out was in the kitchens. Hermione would take a few apples or slices of bread when the elves were absent. Never enough that would be noticed, but enough to fight off her hunger pains during the day.

At night, Hermione would find a spot that was large enough to set up the tent, and she would harvest the roots and plants surrounding it until her hands were sore from cutting. It took hours to harvest enough plants to fill a single vial with essence of dittany, but Hermione had the stars to keep her company.

Hermione allowed herself to enter the manor for the formal evening meeting. Lucius seemed on edge the past several days. Conversations would seize the moment he entered a room, and Hermione saw him hex several new recruits for reasons she could not decipher.

He stood at the head of the table; voices hushed around the room. Theo was one of the most notable absences, he must have been sent out on a mission. Draco eyes were scanning the room, only taking a break to look down at Neddy as she filled his wine.

"Have you news from the Dark Lord, Carrow?" Lucius asked to start the meeting.

Alecto Carrow took a seat at the table that was typically occupied by Theo. "The Dark Lord is halfway through interrogations at the castle. Students are to remain in their houses until it is completed." She snapped her fingers at Neddy to fill her glass. "Anyone that rouses suspicion is being held in the dungeon awaiting your questioning."

"The Dark Lord does not wish to look through their minds himself?" Lucius replied, taking his seat.

Alecto wore a malicious grin, "There were quite a few members that did not meet the Dark Lords qualifications for clearance."

"And when is my attendance required?"

"As soon as you can secure your manor enough to leave."

"The manor security has never been breached. I'll remind you Carrow, it only took me three days to complete my interrogations. And I didn't require the Dark Lord's supervision." He looked and sounded every bit the regal patriarch that intimated them growing up. The brief point in time where weakness was apparent in his demeanor was long gone. "I will head out tonight. Draco is more than capable of running the estate in my absence. All approvals and reports will go straight to him. Understood?" He finished, looking around the room.

Hermione turned her attention to Draco. It was always bittersweet when Lucius was away. He was always busier during the day, but his nights they got to have all to themselves.

Lucius ended the meeting and pulled Draco to the side to give him more specific instructions. She should leave now. The anxious look on Malfoy's face was going to make her throw away all her plans.

When she saw Astoria approach Malfoy with a concerned look of her own, she ran out of the manor almost as quickly as the last time.

The déjà vu of her fleeing the building made Hermione suddenly remember the paper bird she saw resting on one of the saddles. Risking a look around the empty garden, she entered the barn and saw it was still sitting where she saw it last. Once in her hand, the parchment unfolded and then words appeared on the note in a familiar scroll.

Far left cabinet below the window.

Hermione walked to the cabinet and pulled it open, the door unlocking at her touch. Inside was a tray of food. Pastries, tea, sandwiches, meats, all set out for her under a charm to keep it fresh. Tucked beside the tea was a copy of the daily prophet from October 2nd.

Reason told her she should still be angry at him. He openly admitted to being more than an innocent bystander in the deaths of her friends. Their power dynamic was already so one sided, locking her in the room with no means of escape crossed a line. Hermione knew that.

What she didn't know was what she would have done in his place. If Malfoy found himself in the company of the Order, he wouldn't have to hide for fear of his life. No one would be a threat to him. However, Hermione certainly would not have opened her bedroom to him as he had done for her.

It was a completely different situation, she justified. It would be foolish to trust a death eater as quickly as he trusted her if the roles were reversed. It wasn't prejudice, it was only reasonable.

Returning to the manor during the weekend felt useless now that she knew Voldemort would not be making a visit. By Monday she still did not have the courage to go further than the garden hedges. She watched the entry gate, but history was starting to show that Voldemort would only be present at the Manor during emergencies or the occasional Friday formal. Liberation proved to include an awful lot of waiting.

The charm galleon had become silent over the last week. Hermione tried to focus her mind to send a message through wandlessly. Dread started to gnaw at her, refusing to give her a moment of peace as she had nothing to do but think the worst. The floo connection Katie used could lead Voldemort's army right to them. There was nothing to do except think the worst.

The last letters she received from Anthony were just as cryptic and meaningless as the first, but that didn't stop her from reading them again and again until the parchment nearly came apart at the creases.

Sis,

You know how those two used to always do that one thing? Well one of those, and now this one, are doing it together and it is a million times worse. You know what I mean?

All my love,

Hermione had no idea what it meant. It made her laugh anyway.

Sis,

Mum let me pick the colour of your room. Bro wanted it to be red and gold, but that would look utterly ghastly.

There's been a variety of critters visiting lately, but I am sure you know all about that.

Come home soon!

Love,

The Weasley's had been dubbed with the nickname 'weasels' for years and the family had to disburse after the Burrow was burnt to the ground. What joy it brought Hermione to think Ginny's words meant that they were all together again in a new home. That they thought of her enough to designate her a space in it. It would be the only home left that would accept her.

Cat,

I've been doing some reading. Remember our old dog Padfoot? Always an escape artist, hard to keep him confined anywhere. Anyways, it's a long shot, but I can't stop thinking about how he always managed to find his way home.

Love,

Crab

Even with miles and magical binds separating them, the two best friends seemed to still think the same way. Years of habits are difficult to break.

Hermione read through the few other letters she had, most she was certain were filled with Ginny and Ron subtly insulting each other. She could nearly hear them goading each other from the pages. Ginny was probably beating him up rather badly without Harry or herself there to mitigate.

For what may be the last time, Hermione penned a letter to each of them, still using the code names and discretion they have come accustomed to but letting her love of them show more plainly. Just in case.

Hermione's insomnia had her organizing the new plants and herbs she had found in the forest in her tackle box when she remembered she still hadn't neutralized the rest of the draught of living death. Harvesting dittany during the full moon made it incredibly more effective. She looked towards the ground and saw a growth of it just a few feet away, and a little further what she suspects is wormwood. These plants aren't even supposed to grow on this continent, yet the Malfoy's have an infestation of it in their extended backyard. They could harvest it all and be rich if they ever needed the money.

She grabbed her beaded bag to shove the plants in, not wanting to be limited by volume. At the last moment, she chose to utilize the silver knife, putting her charmed dagger back in the waist of her trousers. The silver should help the herbs keep much better, and the goblin made blade could have absorbed unknown poisons over its lifetime.

Careful to stay well within eyesight of the tent, she started harvesting the plants in her surrounding area. Her thick gloves made it difficult to keep a firm grip on the silver knife, but with the potency of the plants it was better than touching it with her bare skin. Her eyes found the constellation she has been fixating on whenever she harvested late at night. It really was one of the most beautiful in the sky. Not that she had a reason to be biased.

A twig snapped in the direction of the tent.

Hermione turned so quickly she lost her balance and fell on her backside. Standing between her and the tent was an unmistakable form of a werewolf.

A growl from her right ripped her attention away and she saw another was creeping towards her.

Fuck.

There wasn't much time to come up with a plan before the wolf to her right pounced on her. By pure instinct she ducked out of the way of its fangs and shoved the silver dagger into its soft belly.

The wolf wailed in pain. Undoubtedly, loud enough to be heard from anywhere nearby. It rolled over and Hermione had to grip the handle with all her strength to pull the knife free of its gut. The wolf cried and stumbled off to the side, its packmate rushing to its aid. Hermione dropped the silver knife and pulled her dagger from its case. This knife would do more than just injure the next creature that attacked her.

She rose to her feet slowly. Inside the tent would be safe, it was undetectable to anyone other than her. The two wolves were sitting slightly to the right of the opening as she inched her way closer. A snarl from behind the tent had her eyes snapping up as she locked eyes with a third wolf.

Hermione took off towards the manor as fast as her legs would take her. How could they be out here?! Lucius wouldn't allow wolves to wander her property during a full moon. He didn't even let other death eaters beyond the main garden of the property.

It was a full minute before she heard a series of howls. The next time she heard them they were gaining on her. Branches from the trees whipped her in the face and caused her to whimper and she felt blood start to drip from the wounds.

The sound of the stream ahead of her gave her another burst of adrenaline. Not only had she managed to mindlessly run in the correct location, but she was already halfway there. The exhilaration quickly faded as she started to hear the rustling in the near distance behind her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck-

Hermione could see the water when something pounced on her from the side, knocking her over. She rolled and got back to her feet, looking at the wolf as it crouched several feet away. It wasn't until the last moment she saw the other leap towards her out of the corner of her eye.

"Protego!" She yelled and the wolf was hit with the weak shield midair tumbling down towards the stream until it abruptly stopped motionless beside it. A stunner was her second choice, her magic must have sensed it and thrown it at the beast along with the shield.

Hermione screamed as she felt claws slice through the flesh of her back. The force of the hit sent her tumbling down. When she came to a stop on her back, she could hear the air shift above her. Eyes still squeezed shut with pain, she thrusted the dagger in front of her, and her arm swung unobstructed in the air. There was a second, she thought it was all over. That she had struck a moment too soon and now the wolf would kill her. Or bite her.

Then, she felt warm liquid spill over her and she closed her mouth and eyes as firmly shut as possible. The weight of the wolf crushed her, and it made one more guttural sound before lying motionless. It took all of her strength to push it off her, and she couldn't stop the cry of pain from leaving her.

The charm on the knife was so effective, she didn't even feel the resistance as she gutted the creature. She dragged her body to the stream, sticking her face in the cold water to rise off the blood. Lycanthropy should only be transferable from a bite, but Hermione couldn't risk any of the saliva getting into her eyes or mouth. The pain on her back was immeasurable, but she had felt pain before. Her body started to feel heavier, and she recognized this feeling too. Blood loss.

Hermione forced herself to her feet, there was more howling somewhere behind her, but her head was too disoriented to determine how close. She stumbled into the stream and the shallow running water knocked her off her feet. The chill was enough to wake her up. She looked back at the two wolves, one stunned and the other dead. Hermione forced herself to her feet and took off running before the rest of the pack could find them.

The howls were angrier and louder, but she just kept putting one foot in front of the other, too afraid to slow down or turn around. The last stretch before the garden was the worst. It was an arduous hike that Hermione struggled to ascend when she was in perfect health. Falling to her knees several times, she kept propelling forward. She just had to make it to the greenhouse to lock herself safely inside. The hedges came into her vision as she crawled on her hands and knees, desperate to will herself to the top.

Inevitably, she collapsed on the side of the hill. Drained.

Her back had been on fire the entire run until that moment. Now it just felt numb. She gulped for air, unable to get enough to satiate her lungs. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. The only sound that penetrated through were the cries of the wolves hunting her down.

Hermione closed her eyes, the dagger still clenched tightly in her hand. A small mercy that she knew she would bleed out before the pack found her. There was no time left for regrets. Hermione just wished she could say thank you one more time. Draco and Neddy put everything on the line to save her, she should have been able to accomplish more with her second chance.

Poor Neddy. She prayed her small friend would not blame herself for assisting in Hermione's escape. At the conclusion of her thoughts, Hermione heard another twig snap. Or was it a pop?

It didn't matter.

Hermione just rested further into the darkness that surrounded her. It almost felt like falling asleep, until she suddenly felt like she was being pulled through an impossibly small tube.