Chapter Four

May 2, 1998

Hogwarts

Antonin took just a moment when his feet hit the ground outside of the castle to take a deep breath. The clear May afternoon was shaping up to be a hot one, but he would've traded over one hundred degree temperatures for the constant coolness that existed within the castle walls. Screams still echoed across the grounds from within the school. He could only imagine what fresh Hell the current occupants of the castle were experiencing while he headed towards the Forbidden Forest.

Tracking a giant was not a difficult task even for a wizard who had very little experience dealing with wild animals. This was usually an undertaking assigned to Walden Macnair. That man could track a fruit fly for miles if ordered to do so. If he was tracking anyone else, he might have asked the ex-executioner for assistance, but he knew better. Asking Macnair to assist him with tracking a beautiful, young woman was begging him to assault the girl when she was finally found. Macnair was not known for his self-control when it came to beautiful women. Or hell, even ugly women needed to fear the man.

The giant's footsteps were clear all the way across the grounds towards the forest. Antonin ignored all of the shouting around him. Combatants on the losing side were still being captured and rounded up by his brothers- and sisters-in-arms. He narrowly missed being hit by a stunner shot in his direction by Alecto Carrow. Antonin chose to believe that she was aiming for the young wizard who'd just crossed his path instead of exacting her own revenge for a rejection of her advances a few weeks earlier. He cringed at the memory of the Muggle Studies professor propositioning him after a large gathering at a Hosgmeade pub. There wasn't enough fire whiskey in the entire world to get him drunk enough to touch that witch.

"Macnair!" he shouted when he saw the wizard on the edge of the forest. "Did you see which way the giant went?"

Walden Macnair ran towards Antonin. He was covered in a fine sheen of perspiration and he looked more annoyed than Antonin had ever seen him before.

"Went right through the fucking trees, Dolohov! Took that little bitch with him," he answered. "Look at the birds flying above the trees though. He's coming back this way."

Flocks of birds shot up in the sky in an almost straight line towards the edge of the forest. Moments after Macnair pointed out the birds' behavior a sixteen foot giant came crashing through the trees screaming, "Hagger! Hagger!" Antonin had to jump out of the path of the gigantic feet to prevent himself from being trampled. When he saw the giant's hands were empty, he no longer cared what was happening outside of the forest. He waved his wand to mutter an incantation Walden once taught him when they were tracking a group of blood traitors through a dense forest.

Immediately the footsteps of the giant began to glow bright orange. He could see a trail headed back into the innards of the Forbidden Forest. While Macnair shouted curses at the giant and the giant responded with incoherent shouts of its own, Antonin ran as fast as he could along the trail of footprints. The sounds from the castle grounds began to fade behind him to become a distant memory. No animals met him on his trail which ordinarily might have concerned him, but in that moment, he didn't spare a thought for the dangerous creatures who called the forest home.

Twenty minutes of running brought him into a clearing in the trees. The footprints of the giant led him to the area before turning around and running back out towards the castle. Antonin scanned the area for any sign of Hermione. Much smaller footprints interrupted the giant glowing orange prints. He cancelled his charm on the giant's footprints to change it to the prints obviously belonging to the young witch. Small blue footprints glowed in the same area, but never left the clearing.

"Fuck!"

It was obvious that she wasted no time before she Disapparated from the area. With the busted wards from the earlier battle, she could've easily left the area without any struggle. The question became, however, where would she go next? There was an entire world out there she could hide in. He didn't know the first place to start searching for the wayward witch. She could be anywhere and if he wasn't the first one to find her…

He shook his head to banish the thoughts that began to plague him. Not finding her would not be an option. He just had to think.

May 2, 1998

London

He Disapparated to the first place he could think of even though he didn't have much hope of finding her there. Night had already fallen by the time he approached the area where he knew the old Black family home was located. Following their attack on Thorfinn and him in the Muggle café in the early days of the war, Antonin was ordered to stand guard in Grimmauld Place to watch for any suspicious activity. Ministry records showed that Potter owned the house that was hidden at Number Twelve. For days he stood outside watching the area where he knew the house was magically hidden. Sometimes he had a partner to pass the time with, usually he was alone. Nothing happened until the day that the Ministry was infiltrated by Hermione and her friends. She inadvertently brought Yaxley with her to the top step of the house. Once the secret was revealed, Yaxley was able to bring in anyone he wished. They spent days combing every inch of the crumbling house for clues.

After taking a cursory glance around the area to ensure that no unsuspecting Muggles were watching his movements, he stepped closer to the enchanted house. Slowly Number Twelve expanded and came into view. He climbed the stairs, pushed the door open and slipped inside. There were no lights or any other signs of human activity within the molding walls of what must have once been a fine home.

"Homenum Revelio!"

Nothing happened. Another dead end.

"Fuck!"

Antonin slammed his fist into the closest wall. The sharp pain brought just the tiniest bit of relief. He stared down at the blood dripping down his hand and cursed. Where to now? She could quite literally be anywhere. Enough time had passed that if she had been able to catch a Muggle train or one of those metal birds, she could've been out of the country by then.

He flew out of the front door seconds after casting a quick healing charm to clear up the blood on his hands. There was another place she might go to in London. Back in the early days after they realized that after Yaxley arriving on the front steps meant that they would no longer use that house as their hideout, several Death Eaters were sent to another quiet Muggle neighborhood to stake out a comfortably large home belonging to two Muggle dentists. Whatever that is, he thought at the time. Antonin was one that was sent to tear down any potential wards around the home.

The second house was every bit as dark as the first. No signs of life at all. A simple Alohomora spell opened the creaking back door. The human presence revealing spell that had shown no life in the Blacks' old house revealed the same in this Muggle home. Antonin wandered through the ground level of the home looking for any indication that at some point in the past twelve hours Hermione Granger had returned to her parents' former home. It was strange to see that despite the numerous strange, static Muggle photos that adorned the walls and side tables, there wasn't a single photograph of the young witch he was searching for. Part of him worried that he had the wrong house. If it hadn't been the fact that the Dark Lord's informants were positive that this was her old home, he would've walked right back out the back door convinced he made a mistake.

His feet carried him up the staircase. The sheer amount of dust that coated every surface in the house proved that no one had set foot in this domicile for quite some time. When he reached the top of the staircase, he felt the tiniest prick of magical trace coming from the end of the corridor. Out of habit, he held his wand in front of him, prepared for anything. In his experience as a Death Eater he had learned to expect the unexpected, as clichéd as it sounded.

There was a simple door at the end of the corridor that positively reeked of magic. Not the residual kind of that remained after a witch or wizard cast a spell at some point in the past. This was active magic. The tingling on his forearms proved that there was still a spell on the door. He used his knowledge of curse breaking to determine that it wasn't anything dangerous. Just a simple Muggle-repelling charm. Odd to have in a Muggle home, he thought.

The door wasn't even locked. Just warded against intrusive Muggles. Antonin pushed the door open gently to reveal the childhood bedroom of the woman he was searching for. He wasn't surprised by the light, lingering scent of lavender that assaulted his olfactory senses when he stepped inside. Nothing seemed out of place in the entire room. She was obviously a person that enjoyed order. He crossed the room to her bookshelves loaded with old school textbooks and Muggle novels.

The missing pictures he expected to be downstairs were piled up on her desk. He sifted through the photos that showed her growth from a newborn to a couple of pictures that must have been taken days before she went on the run with Potter and Weasley. He pocketed a still photo that showed her staring out a window downstairs with a serious expression on her face. It might come in handy later if he needed to ask Muggles if they'd seen her before. As he turned away from the desk a framed moving photograph caught his eye. She was trying to take a picture of herself holding the ugliest damn cat he'd ever seen in his life. The cat was swatting at the camera while she laughed just behind him. Antonin removed the photo from its frame before putting it in his pocket with the other.

Neither of her closets yielded anything of interest. Just simply old clothing that still smelled a bit like the lavender he'd come to associate with her. He passed by the desk once more before leaving. A stack of old postcards caught his eye. They were all of different locations throughout the United Kingdom. Obviously places that she'd visited before with her parents if the dates she'd scrawled on the back of each were any indication. If he were on the run again and completely alone, he'd likely go back to places he'd been before. Antonin shuffled through the stack looking for inspiration. One that showed high majestic cliffs off the coast of Cornwall stuck out. It was a good of place to start as any, he supposed.

May 3, 1998

Crackington Haven

Antonin spent the entire next day searching the cliffs for any sign of the young witch. A couple of times he could've sworn that he felt strong magics in the air, but he chalked it up to the natural magic that was present in the area. He would remember the area. It was too beautiful of a location to forget. Maybe one day when he had some peace he could find a quiet place near the coast to live out the rest of his days.

Unfortunately, his trip was for nothing. He sifted through the postcards to pick another place to visit at random.

January 28, 1999

Lestrange Manor – Norfolk

He'd been living with Rabastan Lestrange in his family's manor since they were broken out of Azkaban for the second time. Antonin protested in the beginning, but neither Rabastan nor his older brother Rodolphus would hear of him living anywhere else. They'd formed a kind of brotherhood with the other Death Eaters that hadn't run from the terror of Azkaban when their Dark Lord was defeated by the one year old Harry Potter so many years earlier. The Lestrange brothers refused to allow Antonin to run off to Merlin knew where to find a hovel not worth living in simply because his Gringotts vault had never been as deep as theirs.

It had been a convenience in the beginning. The longer he remained, however, the more he desired to leave. Following the blasting of the Dark Mark from Lucius Malfoy's arm after the torture and execution of his wife in the Great Hall and the permanent residence of the Dark Lord in Hogwarts Castle, the Lestrange Manor had become something of an unofficial Death Eater Headquarters. Rarely did a night pass that there weren't guests traipsing up and down the corridors of the massive home. Antonin preferred peace and quiet, not a residence where he frequently came upon an intoxicated Alecto Carrow when he least expected it. The bitch was relentless.

"What brings you to my humble manor home this evening, Lucius?" Rabastan asked when a small gathering of wizards sat down in the spacious study with a glass of fire whiskey each.

"Yeah, Malfoy. Why are you here anyway?" added Walden. "Don't see you around much anymore. Not that I'm complaining."

The elder wizard laughed his atrocious rasping laugh to the general amusement of the other Death Eaters gathered in the room: Rabastan, Yaxley, Crabbe and Goyle. Lucius acted as if the open insult from Macnair wasn't as evident as it was. Antonin wished they would all go back to their own homes. He'd planned on having a quiet evening alone with a bottle of fire whiskey. His search had not been going well. Almost nine months and he hadn't turned over a single useful clue. She was likely dead or in another country by now.

"Do I require a reason to spend an evening with my old friends?" replied Lucius.

Antonin couldn't suppress a snort of derision in his glass at the words from the pompous ass. Malfoy wasn't fooling anyone. He was desperate for information. That's why he always attached himself to his former comrades despite no longer being entirely welcome within their social circles. What he needed information for, however, was the real question. Most of the others assumed that he was just trying to worm his way back into the Dark Lord's graces for his own selfish purposes. Antonin wasn't entirely sure. He'd never trusted the man. Spending the better part of a year in the cell next to him didn't help his distrust either.

"Have I done something to offend you, Antonin?" Lucius inquired as the attention of everyone in the room turned in his direction.

"Of course not, Lucius," he answered. "In order to offend me, you would first have to matter to me."

He emptied his glass in a single swallow. While the liquid made its way down his throat and into his stomach, he enjoyed the expression on Malfoy's face. His silver grey eyes narrowed in his direction. Antonin could practically hear the insults the man wanted to spew in his direction, but because he was as far from the favor of the Dark Lord as possible without being actually dead, Lucius wasn't foolish enough to voice his insults aloud.

"Tell me, Antonin, any new developments in the search for the Mudblood?" Rabastan asked in an effort to turn the conversation away from potentially dangerous waters. Any good host understood the importance of keeping the bloodshed in his study down to an absolute minimum.

"Unfortunately, no," he answered before rising from his chair to refill his glass.

"We've been tracking all of the Undesirables through their wands," announced Yaxley. "It's been a fairly tedious process. Ollivander has been helping. Sadly we keep hitting dead ends. The Undesirables obviously are aware that they are being tracked because we haven't gotten any activity on any of the wands for quite some time."

"I assume there has been none on Miss Granger's wand," stated Lucius. He had a smug expression on his face that Antonin longed to hex off.

"No, there hasn't been," Yaxley replied. "Just yesterday, however, we were reminded that the Mudblood Granger stole Bellatrix's wand during that mess at your manor last year, Lucius."

The air in the room shifted perceptibly. None of the assembled men liked to think about the crazy bitch who died during the Battle for Hogwarts, especially not her two brothers-in-law. Both Lucius and Rabastan emptied their own glasses at the mention of her name. Even almost a year later she unnerved those who knew her best.

"We put a trace on Bellatrix's old wand. Hopefully the Mudblood hasn't found another untraceable wand to use in its place," Yaxley continued.

"What do you want the girl for anyway?" asked Goyle with a smirk on his ugly face that Antonin didn't appreciate.

"Not really any of your concern, Gary."

Antonin crossed back to his vacated seat closest to the fire. Knowing sneers and chuckles reverberated through the room amongst the other assembled wizards. He could imagine what they assumed he wanted her for. It's what they all would do with a captured young woman after all. He hadn't told anyone the truth as to why he requested Hermione. They would accuse him of being mad or even for being a traitor if anyone learned that the only plan he had was to do what he could to keep the witch safe. It didn't make sense even to him at times. Antonin allowed his mind to wander as he stared into the flickering flames in the fireplace.

The January evening was growing late. No one seemed to have any plans to leave any time soon. Antonin's plans for a quiet evening alone were completely shattered just a little after nine o'clock when a familiar face suddenly appeared in the fireplace.

"Antonin!" Runcorn shouted from the flames. "Is Antonin there?"

The wizard in question swallowed the remainder of his drink before lazily walking over the few feet to stand in front of the fireplace. All occupants of the room ceased their discussions to listen in on the conversation with the two wizards. Privacy wasn't exactly a benefit to Floo calls. Certainly none of the other men were going to give him the courtesy to excuse themselves from the room while they spoke.

"What is it, Albert?" Antonin asked, doing his best to ignore the others.

"There's been activity with Granger's wand. Meet me there in five minutes."

Albert's head disappeared from the flames with a pop. A portkey flew out of the flames and into Antonin's hands moments later. Antonin crossed the room to the entrance foyer. Knowing he would be entering a predominately Muggle area, he transfigured his cloak to an overcoat. While he was pulling it on, he saw Lucius sneak out the front door. The blond wizard didn't even attempt to wish the other man a good evening. Not that Antonin cared. He wouldn't mind if they never spoke again. He stepped out into the freezing night air. The walk to the outside gates passed quickly as thoughts of finally catching the elusive Miss Granger ran through his mind.

Runcorn was waiting for him. The younger wizard always seemed in a hurry. He didn't even try to hide the fact that he was annoyed with Antonin's tardiness regardless of the fact that only six minutes had passed.

"Where is she?" Antonin asked, seeing nothing in the area indicating that she'd been anywhere in the area.

"I've scanned the area for any magical traces, but it looks like whoever was using her wand cleared out all traces. Smart."

Antonin checked the ground for any signs of footprints. If she'd Apparated out of the area, they would've been able to sense her magical trace. Everyone had a magical signature, not just the underage witches and wizards. A few feet from where they were standing he found small footprints in the frost. After scanning the area he found no others. Whomever was using Bellatrix's wand was alone. He remembered the spell he'd used to track the giant through the Forbidden Forest. In moments he and Albert were following the glowing blue footprints that only they could see right into the city.

They'd walked at least a mile or two before the footprints disappeared through a door. Neither of the men said a word to each other as they pushed open the front door to the pub. It was crowded. Both men scanned the room searching for the woman. Antonin couldn't hide his frustration when he didn't see a sign of Hermione anywhere. She had to be there. If she'd entered the building and then walked right back out, they would've seen her footprints outside.

Several minutes later after getting absolutely no assistance from the bartender, Antonin and Albert walked back outside to the front of the pub to regroup. Albert wanted to stand out and wait for her to exit, but Antonin was certain that if she'd been inside when they were, there was no way she didn't see them. She'd be more likely to exit through the back door. Antonin kept his eyes on the alley behind the pub certain that he'd see movement out there soon enough. A drunk came stumbling out of the pub and almost knocked Antonin into the street. He sent the mildest stinging hex he could think of in the drunk's direction to get him away. In the seconds that it took to hex the man, a door to the back of the pub opened and a small figure ran in the opposite direction. Glowing blue footprints appeared in the alley. Antonin didn't hesitate to take off running after her.

He was beyond furious when he had to hand Hermione over to the aurors. Albert repeatedly tried to assure him that his wishes would be honored. The Dark Lord had already made it clear to the important Ministry officials that as soon as the capture of Undesirable Number Two was made public knowledge and a trial of some sort was conducted, Miss Granger was to be released into Antonin's custody. What happened to her after that no one really cared. All that mattered to the Minister for Magic was that the newspapers report that they were successful in capturing one of the rebels that had been plaguing their country since the war ended nine months earlier.

"The Wizengamot will meet for her trial some time tomorrow," Albert explained for what might have been the sixth or seventh time. "Once that's over, you can take her wherever you want."

January 29, 1999

Ministry of Magic – London Headquarters

Antonin hadn't slept for over twenty four hours. Once he handed Hermione over to the aurors he Apparated directly to London to wait for her eventual release. He'd been waiting in the Ministry for long hours before he was finally allowed into the courtroom where her trial was to take place early in the afternoon. Dozens of reporters and curious onlookers flooded the public gallery of the courtroom. His eagerness to enter the courtroom worked to his advantage. In what quickly became a standing room only area, he had a front row spot to watch as the trial unfolded.

It was just after two in the afternoon before the door on the floor of the courtroom opened. She was pushed into the space with heavy chains around her wrists and ankles that made him angry. This wasn't what he was promised! He couldn't stand the fear he could see in her eyes when the restraints on the damned chair closed around her delicate wrists. If there was anyone else in the room at that moment who could sympathize with the poor girl, it was him. Once upon a time he was seated in the same chair awaiting the news of how he could expect to spend the rest of his days.

"When I suggested that you catch the bitch and restrain her, I didn't mean to do it in front of the entire Wizengamot," laughed Thorfinn Rowle. "Never pegged you for much of an exhibitionist."

Antonin removed his eyes from Hermione for just a moment to glare at the young wizard. Rowle was excited by the prospect of the woman he still held a massive grudge against finally being caught. When the news broke that morning, Rowle made certain that he dropped all of his plans for the day to witness her trial firsthand. He continued to laugh at his little joke despite the waves of fury that were coming off of Antonin next to him. Thorfinn caught the eye of the girl on the floor and actually winked at her. It made Antonin very angry.

"Promise me that when you get tired of her that you invite me over, Antonin."

He refused to dignify Rowle's request with an answer. Thankfully the farce of trial began just a few moments later. Antonin couldn't keep his eyes off of the obviously terrified young woman. She didn't understand that this was all for show. She wasn't actually going to spend the rest of her life rotting away in Azkaban prison. Did anyone explain that to her? Probably not, he thought. She might request a one way ticket to the island if she knew I was the alternative.

The trial was over almost immediately after it began. Thorfinn's loud chuckles resonated in his ear. Lucius was on the other side of him lamenting the poor girl's bad luck as the aurors dragged her back out the door of the courtroom. Antonin turned to Albert who was just a few steps away.

"Not here, Antonin," Albert warned.

He followed Runcorn out of the throngs of people to a secluded corner of the corridor. Lucius Malfoy lingered just a bit too close to them to make Antonin comfortable. After shooting a murderous glare in Malfoy's direction, he waited until all potential eavesdroppers were out of the area before he asked Albert just what the fuck was going on.

"She will be taken to Azkaban," Albert answered.

"What?!"

Antonin's hands grasped the lapels of Albert's robes with a bit more ferocity than he originally intended. The younger wizard didn't let his discomfort shine through despite the fact that Antonin was a notoriously dangerous man with a short fuse.

"Why the fuck is she headed to Azkaban, Albert? I was assured that once she had her fucking shame of a trial that she would be released to me."

He didn't want to imagine the poor girl inside Azkaban. That wasn't the place for her. It wasn't a place for anyone with the least amount of goodness.

"It's all protocol, Antonin. I told you that we had to follow protocol."

"You told me that she would be taken into custody to the Ministry and then after her sham of a trial she would be released to me. Nowhere did you mention she would have to go to Azkaban!"

Albert disengaged his lapels from Antonin's grasp. He refused to be intimidated by the Death Eater.

"I spoke with the Minister this morning. We will be able to remove her from Azkaban first thing in the morning."

He was angrier in that moment than he had been in a very long time. At no time was he told that she would have to spend a single second in the prison. It was a cruel punishment. He turned on his heel and headed towards the main lifts. Runcorn rushed after the man, sensing that he wasn't about to just let this all go without a fight.

"Where are you going, Antonin?" he demanded.

"I'm just going to have a little word with Pius. This is unacceptable."

January 30, 1999

Azkaban Prison – North Sea

In the end it turned out that Antonin didn't have a choice but to wait until the next morning. Even after a private discussion with the current Minister for Magic he was assured that there would be no way to remove her from the prison until the next morning. No amount of arguing would change that. The prisoner must be remanded to Azkaban for the night.

Albert met Antonin at the entrance to the prison just as the sun was rising. Being back on the island where he had spent so much of his past was more than a little unnerving. If he had ultimate power like the Dark Lord, his first order of business would be to completely demolish the prison and release the dementors to the furthest corner of the world. It was the place that still haunted his nightmares.

"Fuck, Antonin. When was the last time you got some sleep?" Albert asked as they entered the front entrance.

Antonin refused to answer the question with anything other than a narrowing of his eyes and a quiet snarl. He couldn't remember the last time he slept through the entire night. Too much had been going on since the Dark Lord's victory. They had been building a new society within Wizarding Britain. And then in addition to his duties on the behalf of his master, he had been searching for her ever since the final battle. Sleep was something that he found when he could. He never made it a priority.

"We're here for Granger," Albert announced to the extremely unattractive auror waiting inside the entrance. "You should have received your orders from Yaxley."

"Wait here," she replied.

He paced the room like a caged animal waiting for the woman to return. Albert wasn't the least bit uncomfortable by the experience. The wizard simply lowered himself into an available chair and waited patiently. Antonin hovered near the door the auror exited. Several long minutes passed. They were far enough away from the interior of the prison to not be as affected by the dementors and the despair of the unfortunate prisoners, but he knew he would not be able to relax for a moment in that hated place.

"How long is this going to take?" he demanded. Runcorn simply ignored his question.

The door finally opened. A thin woman was pushed into the room where she immediately fell hard to the stone floor. Antonin stared down at the young woman lying on the ground in the thin, prison-issued nightgown. He wanted to murder someone. How dare she be treated like some kind of common criminal?

"Get up, Granger!" the auror shouted.

She obviously didn't have the energy to pull herself up off the floor. Antonin stepped across the room in front of the auror before she could kick the girl. He had her off the ground and in his arms in moments. Hermione opened her eyes to stare into his, but didn't say a word.

"Are you all right?" he whispered to the young woman.

Her cheeks were flushed an unhealthy shade of red and her entire body was shaking. At first he assumed she was just freezing, but a quick brush of his hand across her forehead revealed that she was burning up with a high fever. Antonin set Hermione down in the chair that Albert vacated upon her arrival. He removed his cloak to wrap her shivering frame.

"She is burning up!" he yelled at the auror. "What happened to her?"

The auror was not a woman who could be easily intimidated even by a well-known Death Eater. She didn't seem bothered by his tone in the slightest. Antonin wanted to strangle her and might have done so if Albert hadn't stepped in his way.

"Just take her home, Antonin. I'll finish up with her discharge. She looks like she could use a warm bed and maybe a healer."

Antonin lifted Hermione back in his arms once more. The young witch didn't even seem to have the energy to be frightened by the fact that he was holding her again. Of course considering she'd just spent the night in Azkaban and was now obviously burning up with a high fever, maybe she wasn't entirely sure what was actually happening to her. With her clasped securely in his arms once more, Antonin turned on the spot to Disapparate them away from the hated prison. They landed just outside the gates of Lestrange Manor. Hermione was asleep before they were halfway up the drive.