Chapter Three
June 7, 2003
Rita Skeeter's Exclusive Interview With Minister Umbridge About Her Controversial Magical Adoption Program
Recently, I was privileged to be able to sit down for an exclusive interview with our illustrious Minister for Magic, the impressive Dolores Jane Umbridge. We discussed the recent inclusion of the program she had approved through our esteemed Wizengamot to increase the numbers of magical births. A small minority of the country has expressed their concern that such an act was perhaps, not in the best interest of any of the parties involved. Minister Umbridge, however, was quick to assure this reporter that her plan would have long-reaching effects that would only benefit our struggling society.
"Of course I have heard some of the very, very few critics who have been of the incorrect opinion that we are doing something terrible or even immoral," the Minister stated only moments after introducing this reporter to a number of lovely cats she had recently acquired. Tea with the Minister is no small affair. "These people, if one can even refer to dangerous criminals as people, areā¦"
Her feet were two leaden weights. It was only by a sheer force of will that she was able to remove herself from the Minister for Magic's presence. She could feel the existence of the wizard she hated above all others only inches behind. Everything still felt like a horrible dream. Hermione hoped desperately that she would wake up back in her freezing cell on her thin, smelly mattress. She could even bear a lifetime of Dolohov staring across the narrow corridor at her watching her every move. At least then he would only be watching. With this horrible new reality, he had been given license to do a great deal more.
Outside of the stone room where her life was irrevocably changed, Hermione witnessed the last few remaining couples who had not yet made their journey to whatever slice of Earth the Ministry was cramming its breeding livestock. As each couple was approached by a small team of officials flanked by the largest aurors she had ever seen, their chains were removed and replaced with matching silver rings on both of their wrists. After a brief explanation of what was to happen next, each couple was handed a dented tin, an old boot, or some other bit of rubbish.
As the last members of the demented program to be paired up, Antonin and Hermione were alone with the officials when it was finally their turn. Their chains were vanished with a simple flick of a wand. Her wrists were grabbed roughly by the Ministry worker applying the rings.
"What are these for?" Hermione asked, ignoring the slight pain she felt while the wizard twisted her wrist.
"Keeps a little slut like you from rutting with any of the other animals on the island you're not supposed to," he spat with glee. "Fidelity spells. To keep the right breeders together. Anyone that's not him tries to stick you, they won't like what happens. Neither will you."
"How charming."
She should have known there were going to be measures put into place to prevent the coupled pairs from seeking more desirable partners than the ones assigned to them by the might of the Ministry. To actually have her described as a 'breeder' bothered Hermione more than anything. As if she was no longer even human. She still had not yet made up her mind if a 'breeder' was better than being a prisoner. Time would only tell. In that moment she was using the coping mechanisms she had developed over the previous five hellacious years locked up. She pushed aside her concerns to a corner of her brain she would revisit at a later date. There were too many changes happening to worry about at the present moment.
Antonin stepped up beside her to accept his own rings. He stared down each of the assembled officials with an expression that had been known to make his enemies in the past tremble with fear. Though he was certainly in much reduced circumstances, Hermione found it amusing that the wizard adding Antonin's rings had a slight nervous jitter in his hands. She caught Antonin's eye and smirked. It wasn't difficult to tell that he was warring within himself to keep from returning with his own grin.
"This portkey will take you both to your cottage. Place your hands on it now. And don't forget, the sooner you are able to get pregnant, the sooner you'll be released."
Hermione was ready to get as far away from the speculative and downright predatory grins from the assembled wizards. A low growl coming out of Antonin's throat startled them all. He stepped closer to her, brushing his arm against hers as a silent, solid form of what she assumed was his attempt at support. They each put their hands on the empty crisps wrapper.
Years had passed since the last time she felt the hooking behind her navel that accompanied travel by portkey. The journey only lasted a few seconds though it seemed much longer. Unused to the magic exposure, Hermione felt a bit faint when her feet finally landed on solid ground. She stumbled slightly, falling into a solid weight next to her. Almost immediately she realized she was leaned up against the wizard she'd travelled there with. Antonin dropped the crisps bag to help her steady herself back on her feet.
"It can be strange feeling magic again after a long absence."
He didn't need to explain how he knew that. This wasn't the first or even the second time he was able to leave the confines of the hated Azkaban Fortress. Hermione stepped away from him as quickly as she could. It was the first time they had ever been completely alone. The thought terrified her more than she was fully aware. There had been safety behind the bars of their cells. With the bars gone, and Antonin not only able but required to touch her, she had no idea what to expect next.
She turned her attention to the room they landed. It was a simple room with very few items. What need had prisoners of decorations and insignificant furniture? The focal point of the small room was an oversized bed that took up much of the space. After five years of sleeping on a mattress only a few inches thick and older than she was, Hermione thought she was looking at a piece of Heaven. Heavy blankets and plush pillows covered the mattress. She ignored the fact that she would be expected to share with the wizard opening the door feet away.
A delighted chuckle erupted out of the man. Hermione hated the sound. It usually meant he was about to be cruel to her or say something especially disgusting. Curious what was happening, she crossed the room to see.
"Do you think it would be too much to hope for that the water is hot?" Antonin asked.
As far as bathrooms went, theirs was hardly luxurious. If she hadn't spent the previous five years taking sponge baths out of one bucket and relieving herself in another, she wouldn't have even been impressed. But despite the fact that there was hardly enough room for the two of them to stand in there at the same time, Hermione laughed too. One entire wall was taken over by a deep bathtub with a shower inside. A single pedestal sink and a regular flush toilet took up another.
"Does it matter if it's hot?" she replied. "It's not as if I can even remember what hot water feels like."
Antonin leaned down to turn on the taps. He held his hand underneath the stream of running water. After a few seconds, a broad grin crossed his face. Hermione wasn't sure she'd ever seen him look that pleased. He adjusted the taps and pulled the lever to the shower. Every stitch of his tattered prison garb was on the floor before she realized what he was doing. He was happily standing under the stream of hot water before she was able to formulate a verbal response.
"Do you have no shame? You could've waited until I wasn't in the room."
"Granger, for five years, five years, we've seen each other naked. For a chance to take a hot shower with actual soap, I wouldn't care if a thousand strangers were watching me right now."
"You're disgusting."
"I never claimed I wasn't."
He turned his attention back to cleansing his entire body of five years of filth. Not wishing to see any more of the man, Hermione spun around to head out the door. Just above the sink was a small mirror hanging on the wall. Curious, she stepped closer to see what changes, if any, she could see on her face.
It was like looking at a stranger. There hadn't been an opportunity to see her reflection since her life imprisonment began. She couldn't even remember the last time she was able to see herself. Long before the Final Battle. Maybe since the day she and her boys left Shell Cottage to break in to Gringotts? Hermione tried not to cry. Even with the sound of the water still running and the steam filling the small room, she knew Antonin was watching her.
She had been too thin to start with. Life on the run meant finding a decent meal was damn near impossible at times. Fleur tried her best to fatten her unexpected houseguests up, but between nearly dying at Bellatrix Lestrange's hand and months of an inadequate diet, Hermione hadn't put on much weight when they ran off to find the final horcruxes. Immediate imprisonment in Azkaban on starvation rations had not helped matters. Her skin had a waxy quality to it that seemed too thin to stretch over her protruding bones. The caramel colored eyes she had always hated were too large for the head that threatened to topple off her too-small neck at any moment. She could only imagine how bad the rest of her body looked.
"You could join me."
She tried to ignore his suggestive wink. Clearly having a hot shower was doing wonders to improve his mood. All anger he might have been feeling for the Ministry officials and the knowledge that he would be forced to produce children against his will, seemed to melt away with the swirling dirt down the drain.
"I'd rather not."
"The hot water might run out."
"I'll take my chances."
"Your loss, Granger."
Hermione left the bathroom quickly to prevent being subjected to any further suggestive remarks. Once she was back inside the bedroom she took a closer look around. A large wardrobe in the corner was filled with new, clean clothing for both of them. She was excited to see a collection of clean knickers, warm pajamas and any other article of clothing she used to take for granted. Five years in the same threadbare nightgown was too long. The worst feeling was cleansing her skin as much as it was possible to with a cold bucket of sea water and then immediately having to put the hated garment back on.
The second door in the bedroom led to a cozy living room. A small dining table with four chairs took up one corner. She almost cried when she saw the large fireplace surrounded by what appeared to be comfortable chairs and a large sofa. Stacks of firewood next to the fireplace promised that she might actually be able to feel warmth soon. It had been so long since she could remember not being cold.
Just past the dining table was another door identical to the one that she had just exited. Remembering that they would be sharing the cottage with another couple, Hermione cautiously approached the door. She was almost as nervous about who else she was expected to live with as she was knowing she had to live with Dolohov. It could be anyone. What if it was Ron and Alecto Carrow? That would be terribly awkward. She and Ron might both soon be short a partner if Antonin murdered their housemate.
Soft sounds of laughter were muffled by the closed door. Laughter? She couldn't imagine there being anything worthy of laughter that day. A higher pitched giggle followed by a lower chuckle proved that both parties were seemingly pleased about their situation. What could possibly be so funny? Hermione knocked on the door, her curiosity getting the better of her sense.
A smirking Thorfinn Rowle opened the door wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Droplets of water dribbled down his bare chest. Hermione had certainly seen him half-dressed before. It was a hazard of sharing a cellblock for five years. Somehow witnessing the man after stepping out of the shower was different.
"Finn! Come back before the water gets cold!"
At least she had her answer as to what couple they were living with. Truthfully, the possibilities could have been much worse. Mortified at clearly interrupting a moment, Hermione rushed back into her bedroom. She closed the door with a harder slam than she intended. Antonin looked up from where he was rummaging through the wardrobe for clean clothes. Completely without shame, he stood in the middle of their room naked. He turned his head at the sound of the door slam.
"Everything all right?"
"Thorfinn and Hannah live with us. I may have interrupted something. He was wearing a towel."
Antonin's loud laughter rang through the room. Hermione felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Was this her life now? Would she always be subjected to such humiliation? Her new roommate pulled on clean clothes and sighed the clear sigh of contentment. She could only imagine. Once he was out of the room she planned on taking a decadently long shower before wearing her new clothes. It was sad that just the simple thought of being able to wear knickers again made her happy.
"I'm glad to know that at least someone in this cottage knows how to enjoy a proper shower."
Annoyed by his response and annoyed with the fact that she was brought to the point that was pleased by knickers of all things, Hermione felt her anger at the absurdity of the day begin to rise. The compartment she'd shoved her rage in earlier when she was in the same room as the cow that had somehow managed to rise to the highest level of power in their society began to give out.
"You are utterly reprehensible, Dolohov. To think that I am now forced to share a bed with you makes me sick. I wish I was back in Azkaban without fear of you being able to touch me."
All hint that he had just been laughing disappeared from Antonin's face. Color bloomed in his cheeks too that had nothing to do with embarrassment. He sat on the edge of the bed to put his shoes on with a little more force than was necessary. Hermione simply stared, waiting for him to have some kind of reaction that wasn't entirely disgusting. When he finished with his new shoes, he stood to look around the room in an effort to calm his own frustration.
"I don't know why you're looking at me like that. It's not as if I had a choice either," the angry wizard spat.
"Then why smirk and wink at me? You certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself."
Antonin ceased his survey of their new scant living quarters to level his new breeding partner with a harsh glare. All at once Hermione remembered what a dangerous man she was now expected to live with and procreate with. In just a couple of swift movements, Antonin was across the room using his much larger frame to push her back against the wall. They hadn't been that close since they latched on to the same portkey. Memories of those same dark brown eyes flashing in anger while she was on the other end of his wand made her mouth grow dry. His hand covered her throat with a promise.
"You really don't want to push me, bitch. I might just one day squeeze until I hear every tiny bone in your body snap."
She didn't doubt that he was capable. Nor did she doubt he was unhinged enough to throw away his one chance at potential freedom for a moment's satisfaction. She knew he was probably the most dangerous man she would ever meet, but she refused to allow him to cower her.
"I'm not afraid of you, Dolohov."
"You should be."
He released her neck and stormed from the room. It was only as she heard the front door slam behind him that she realized his first caress of her body went exactly as she imagined it would.
