He'd been on his best behavior for the first three days. Not once did he make an inappropriate remark or even look at her with anything less than complete professionalism. If he made certain that he was always closest to her when they clashed with the foolish Resistance, he didn't make a big show of it. On the third night after they all shared a bottle of fire whiskey to celebrate the capture or death of those they were seeking, Hermione snuck away from the fire. As pleased as she was that she'd accomplished her mission, knowing that she had been forced to thrash people who had once been on her side hadn't sat well with her conscience. She stood in the secluded French countryside looking up at the bright and beautiful stars allowing her mind to wander to thoughts better left unthought.