When the anniversary of her best friend's murder arrived, Hermione had no reason to get out of the sinfully comfortable bed she had come to love in Draco's guest bedroom. The wizard hadn't returned to the flat since he stormed out in the middle of breakfast. She wasn't sure what his problem was. Maybe it was the same problem she always had when the echoes of the past began to creep in to her present. Sometimes it was easier to run than it was to face them head-on.