Year ? – Part One – The Burrow

It was like the world had stopped spinning.

She had been dragged up to Gryffindor Tower and that was the last she had seen of him. Granted, it had only been seventy-two hours but he hadn't looked at her. She knew something was wrong when he suddenly tensed up but she thought that maybe he was just upset over the Headmaster's death and it hadn't really hit him until that moment.

But then he hadn't looked at her.

He never did that. Even when something was difficult for him to say, he faced her head-on. It was just the kind of man that he was. Something had to seriously be wrong for him to avoid her searching eyes. Then it had hit her.

He had been summoned. He had attacked other Death Eaters, he hadn't left with them, and with Snape there as a traitor to the Order… She had known instantly why he had reacted the way he had. He thought he was about to walk into his death. And she hadn't been able to handle that. She sobbed the entire way to the Tower; hoping that he would come running down the corridor to comfort her. To tell her that she was wrong and that he really was just exhausted.

He hadn't though. And now he was missing.

The adults at the Burrow were confident he wasn't dead. Something about Professor McGonagall that Hermione hadn't understood. But they were insistent that he was alive.

She figured he must be alive as well. Wouldn't she know if he were gone? Surely she would have some sort of reaction to it? Their magic was very in tune with one another, so she should feel slightly different should he… die… Not that she was willing to test it, of course. But at least she kept the secure knowledge that he wasn't dead.

Which still left other unsavory fates but she didn't want to dwell too much on those. After a particularly nasty nightmare of her professor being tortured, she had been woken up by a frantic Sirius. He had stayed with her, petting her hair and letting her know that it was okay to have nightmares. She knew he had plenty of his own from being in Azkaban for so long.

He had tried asking her what they were about, thinking that saying them out loud would make her feel better but she couldn't do it. Either because it was too close to reality or because she didn't want him to know how she felt for her wizard. Regardless, she had only shaken her head and he had understood. They went into the kitchen and made tea and had stayed up together for the rest of the night.

She hadn't even attempted to sleep since.

Having his fate remain unknown kept her active mind in even more of a frenzied state. She could barely concentrate on anything else. She couldn't sleep. She didn't know what to do except hold out hope that he would walk through the door of the Burrow soon.

The rest of the Order was moving in between the Burrow and Grimmauld Place. After the Headmaster's death, Kingsley was instated as the new Secret Keeper and the ancestral home could continue being used, much to Sirius' displeasure. He tried to spend more time at the Burrow since Harry was still at the Dursley's for the beginning of the summer. But he went back occasionally because that was where Remus and Tonks were now living.

They were getting married soon. A small, quiet affair the witch had told her, but she was just glad that the wizard Tonks loved had finally admitted he felt the same.

Hermione smiled bitterly from her spot on the worn couch as she rubbed her eyes to prevent from crying. It must be nice, she thought sadly. Looking around the room, she saw that the Weasley's were all in the process of getting ready for bed. It was eleven after all. But Hermione knew sleep would elude her yet again tonight, so she stayed at her spot on the sofa.

Kingsley and Moody were preparing to leave. They had just come to talk to Mr. Weasley for a few minutes. About what, Hermione couldn't say that she actually cared. She'd been feeling a lot like that actually. Not caring about anything that didn't have to do with her professor's whereabouts or wellbeing.

The only news about him remained that he was alive.

As she felt the corner of her eyes begin to prickle, an obscenely loud cracking sound came from outside the door to the Burrow. Startled, Hermione had jumped to her feet as the others all brandished their wands and pointed it at the door, prepared for a fight if need be.

The door swung open and a large, dark figure slumped against the wood paneling in the opening. Hermione wanted to cry out at the sight of Professor Dolohov, but then she just wanted to sob in horror.

He was covered in blood.

The wizard was wobbling from his position against the doorway and just as Hermione thought he was about to fall, the twins rushed forward to grab him, hauling him back to his feet. Though awkward because tall as the twins were, her professor was still taller, they managed to half guide, half drag him to the couch Hermione had just vacated.

He collapsed onto it and looked up at a stunned Kingsley and furious Moody. Hermione put her hands over her mouth as she saw the bruises formed on his skin and the blood trickling from various cuts, his nose, and his mouth.

"Grimmauld Place…" he rasped out, more blood pooling from his mouth as he managed to force out the words. "One… hour…" The Aurors nodded their heads and as soon as they did, Professor Dolohov closed his eyes, his body going lax.

The men rushed from the room, presumably to head to Grimmauld to warn the others, leaving only Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley. The matriarch immediately began whizzing around the space, looking for potions and other medical supplies.

Ginny was helping her, leaving Hermione to face the unconscious man. He was in a collapsed, sitting position on the couch so Hermione grabbed his hands, that were still familiarly warm, and pulled him until he went into a horizontal state on the couch. Once that was done, Ginny arrived with the first pain potion. She eyed the man warily, probably wondering how they would get him to drink it since he was out.

Taking the initiative, Hermione lifted her professor's head just enough so that she could sit in the space, before gently lowering him so that his head was in her lap comfortably. Taking the potion from her redheaded friend, she tugged at the wizard's jaw until she got it opened just enough to begin pouring the potion. She massaged his neck and watched as the liquid went down so it could take effect.

She was handed several more potions that she began giving to the unconscious man as Mrs. Weasley waved her wand over his form. She 'tsked' motherly as she looked at what Hermione assumed was his vitals.

"Broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, shattered ankle, broken nose..." Hermione flinched at each injury listed. What had happened to him? "But no magical afflictions."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. So he hadn't been cursed or tortured. Just… beaten. A shiver went through her as she continued forcing potions down his throat. When the last vial was empty, Mrs. Weasley set to fixing his ribs.

"It's easier to do while he's still unconscious," she explained. "The process is quite painful." She felt around her professor's chest for a moment before issuing the spell. Hermione and Ginny could both hear the audible snapping sound as the rib was fixed. She repeated the process four times before she was confident that that was all.

"Hermione, dear. Do you think you could handle his nose while I focus on this ankle?" She nodded slightly and watched as the matron went to work on the damaged limb. Taking out her wand, she looked at his slightly crooked nose, picturing how it should usually appear before waving her wand and announcing, "Episkey." His nose straightened with a crunch and Hermione lowered her wand as she saw that his face still remained motionless. Brushing back the hair from his eyes, she refocused on the bruises and cuts she saw, healing what she could.

Ginny began applying bruise paste and Mrs. Weasley continued with the shattered ankle while Hermione healed whatever cuts she could visibly see. Together, they mended the man. Looking up at the clock, she saw that it was half past twelve. Professor Dolohov said that something was happening at twelve. Were the adults still stuck in the crossfire?

Just as the thought hit her, cracks of Apparation sounded from outside and the Burrow became full of Order members. Sirius took one look at Professor Dolohov before collapsing into a chair across from Hermione. He met her confused gaze and cracked a small smile.

"Bastard saved our hides. Death Eaters appeared around the building exactly at midnight. Snape must have found a way around the Fidelius Charm. We burned all the documents that we could and hid across the street just as they began their attack. Moody wanted to see if Dolohov was telling the truth. And he was…"

Hermione continued to run her fingers through the unconscious man's hair, entirely thankful that he cared enough about the rest of the Order to save their lives as well. He was injured and made his way here to warn them anyways. Sirius watched Hermione pamper the wizard with a grin on his face. She raised an eyebrow at him and he inclined his chin to her professor.

"Best do that now while he's out. He'd probably throw a fit if you were doing that while he was awake." Hermione felt the urge to correct him. To tell him that if he was awake and they were alone, she'd be smothering him in kisses that he would readily accept and return with fervor. But she only managed a weak smile at the grinning wizard.

She wished that he was awake. She wanted to know what happened to him. She wanted to make it better. She wanted to finally sleep with him securing wrapped around her.

Hermione just wished they could be safe for a little while longer.

… Heavenly…

It was his first thought upon waking. He was surrounded by a light, carefree vanilla scent intermingled with the sensations he remembered as a child. Bacon sizzling on a stove, warmth from an active living area, voices from various people walking about.

There was a soft surface underneath of his head and something securely wrapped in his hair. He didn't want to open his eyes, sure that if he did, he'd be somewhere foreign. Heaven, paradise, whatever people went to.

But then he realized that he wouldn't be in that sort of place anyways. No matter what he did in his life, he would never be completely redeemed of those few years where he did nothing but kill and torture innocent life. When he created some of the darkest spells imaginable that are still used to this day to harm others.

So, he opened his eyes and was met with the sleeping face of his little Gryffindor. A small smile sat on his face as he gazed up at her. He should have known it was her by the scent alone. Not many other women smelled like vanilla and strawberries. It was purely her; feminine and sweet.

The sound of plates clinking got his attention and hers as well because she practically jumped from her spot on the couch. Her hand in his hair squeezed for a moment; not tight enough to cause him pain, but just enough for him to realize that he really liked having her pull his hair.

Now wasn't the time for an erection Dolohov…

Steering his thoughts away from the unsavory, he watched her look up into the kitchen. She hadn't even noticed that he was awake yet. A frown marred his face as he gave her a less than impressed stare. When she finally did look down, she audibly gasped and put one of her hands on his shoulder.

"Merlin professor, don't do that," she breathed out, causing him to arch a brow.

"Don't wake up?" He questioned, causing a smile to appear on her face. His heart clenched slightly at the appearance of it. The familiarity of it. He wasn't dead, he could continue seeing that expression for a while longer.

"Don't scare me like that," she clarified. He exhaled harshly before attempting to sit up, instantly regretting that decision.

"Antonin Dolohov! You stay where you are on that couch!" He wasn't about to question the Weasley matriarch and swiftly leaned back down, putting his head on his girl's thigh. His chest was throbbing in annoyance at him for forgetting that he'd had his arse handed to him yesterday evening. It was only because he hadn't been allowed to fight back.

Otherwise he probably would have killed Rowle.

Keeping his breathing even, he let himself relax a bit, trying to negate the fact he had just put unnecessary strain on his previously cracked ribs. Despite being healed, they would still be sore for a few days. He felt fingers comb through his hair and looked up to meet the worried eyes of his witch.

"I'm alright, Miss Granger. Just forgot for a moment," he told her, trying to ease her nervousness. It worked, seeing as she huffed out a laugh before continuing her ministrations on him. It felt delightful and he was more than willing to become putty in her capable hands. Especially when her fingernails would scratch his scalp just right.

He had closed his eyes at some point and wasn't aware that more people had joined them in the room until he heard the familiar voice of Black teasingly ask him, "Comfy Dolohov?"

"Quite," was the only reply the mutt was getting. Talking took away the pleasure from feeling Hermione's petite fingers run through his hair. She brushed back the hair that had fallen onto his forehead and paused for a moment, presumably to check to see if all his cuts and bruises had healed. He hadn't categorized them all, being in such a rush, but he'd make sure to return the favor to Rowle one day.

Before he ended his good for nothing life.

"Alright Dolohov, we know you're awake now. Get to talking." Oh good. Just who he wanted to bloody wake up to. The gruff voice of Mad-Eye Moody was grating to his ears but really, he had never heard the man in a scenario where he'd appreciate him anyways.

Opening his eyes again, he saw the glare Hermione was giving the Auror and choked on a laugh, covering it up as a couch that it pained him to do. Looks like she didn't like Moody any more than he did.

Turning his head slightly, he took in the tense forms of the three Aurors, Lupin, and Black. The Weasley adults were all settled at the table in the kitchen with eyes on him as well. Taking a deep breath, he mentally prepared himself before just saying it.

"When I left Hogwarts three nights ago, I was certain I would be killed or tortured until I was dead. There was nothing stopping anyone who had seen me from informing the Dark Lord. But the only person who came forward was Rowle."

"But you weren't killed for that?" Kingsley asked him.

"I only stunned Rowle. The Dark Lord took that into consideration, along with my lack of knowledge of the plans and role as a 'spy.' Those factors and my knowledge of charms were the only reasons I remained alive. But first I had to… prove myself. The Dark Lord wanted no hint of disloyalty from me so he issued me a task that I had to complete before I was allowed to leave with my life."

"What sort of task?" Moody questioned in a threatening voice.

Antonin closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Just tell them, it saves them from problems in the future. "I was ordered to create a spell. A tracking spell to be more precise."

At their confusion, he continued, "He calls it the Taboo. He always wanted his name to be feared and now I've made certain that it will be." He hadn't been able to say no. "Anyone who speaks the Dark Lord's name will instantly be tracked through the Death Eaters and apprehended for suspected resistance affiliation."

"You created that in three days?" Lupin asked, a slight touch of awe in his voice. Along with surprise. Did no one seriously believe that he could be that skilled in Charms? He had gotten the highest NEWT scores in a century in that subject alone.

"Two," he clarified. "The rest of the time was spent casting it on every single marked Death Eater."

"Then what happened to you?" He heard Molly ask him from her spot in the kitchen.

His jaw clenched in remembrance. "Rowle was allowed an hour alone with me to compensate for my mistake at Hogwarts. He wasn't allowed to use magic and I had been bound."

"But that guy is built like a troll!" Tonks added after he finished. Antonin could not help but agree with her. Thorfinn Rowle resembled a troll in many ways, especially his ability to think. He really should have been in Gryffindor with his tendency to act first.

And he never shut up.

"What about Snape? How did he get through the Fidelius Charm? We switched to Kings and everything," Sirius asked as the room began to grow quiet.

"He took advantage of the fact that after Secret Keepers switch, the spell's potency takes 24 hours to synch with the new Keeper's magical energy. It's a theory that turns out to be quite factual," he explained.

"Then why did they wait to attack?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Despite knowing the address, the Fidelius Charm is still a highly protected charm and the other wards around the building were still in effect as well. Seeing as both myself and Avery were busy working on the Taboo, we weren't available to get rid of the wards in a timely fashion. When I was finished with remarking the last recruit, I learned that they were close to being finished with the curse breaking. I only guessed an hour, but I had been right."

"You and Avery are their best curse breakers?" Tonks asked, arching her brow in surprise.

"We're both the most adept at charms. Myself more so than Avery, but he's a quick study and has the magical ability necessary to perform some of the more complicated charms."

"That's handy information to have," Tonks added, looking to her elders as she did. They all seemed to agree with her.

"What about Snape? What else did he tell V… You-Know-Who?" Sirius asked, sitting himself in the seat in front of Hermione. This was the part Antonin had worried about. Would they believe him if he told them?

"Very little," he conceded. Deciding it was best to just tell them what he knew. And he was right, they didn't believe him.

"That's not possible!"

"He knew too much."

"What did he actually tell him?"

Antonin waited for the voices to quiet down, and when they finally did, he explained, "The location of headquarters, names of certain Order members, and the date you're moving Potter were the only information I know of that he had told them. He didn't reveal my position or the location of where Potter actually is at the moment. Nor any secret plans that we know of."

"Is he keeping the information to blackmail us with?" Kingsley questioned, looking to Antonin for answers. Surprisingly enough.

"I don't know. It's plausible, he is still a Slytherin and he'll want to make it out of this war alive just as any one of us would. He could be holding back information to endear himself to the Order again, or he could be under an oath of some sort. All I know is what he's already told the Dark Lord."

The room went a bit silent after that. Most seemed to be letting the information sink in, wondering their options, thinking up solutions. Antonin wasn't one of them. He was just glad to be alive and sitting next to his little Gryffindor. It was much, much more than he thought he would have at this point.

"What do we do about headquarters now?" The youngest Weasley's voice finally asked, breaking the uncomfortable, tense silence. And she had a point; they couldn't all stay at the Burrow. There wasn't nearly enough room. And it certainly wasn't that secure.

"That's a good question. Where do we go from here? Grimmauld Place wasn't even ideal but that was our only option at the time. Now that the Death Eaters know where it is, we have nothing left." Kingsley announced to the group. Most knew that if they had had other options, Grimmauld Place would have been scrapped. Too much dark magic and bad memories for those in the Order.

Antonin hadn't had a problem with it, but he could understand why those in the organization did.

"We could continue using the Burrow…" Arthur offered but most of the others shook their heads.

"We can't inconvenience you and your family. Nor put them at such a risk. We need somewhere the Death Eaters don't know about. Somewhere with enough room for the majority of the Order to hideout. And wards, plenty of wards along with a Fidelius," the dark skinned man mused to himself, thinking the idea completely unrealistic and hopeless.

Well, it would have been. But somewhere along the lines Antonin Dolohov had been reduced to a bleeding heart. Looking up at the crestfallen face of his little Gryffindor, that solidified his decision. And so he opened his unusually big mouth and only hoped he didn't come to regret this later.

"I know of such a place."

All eyes went to him and he mentally cursed himself for doing this. But the hope he could see in Hermione's eyes only egged him on.

"My family purchased an estate upon arrival in England. After my father died, the house and all its wards transferred to me, his heir."

"Why are we just now hearing about this?" Moody growled at him. Maybe because I don't want you in the bloody house I grew up in. Ignoring the Auror's tone of voice, he answered him instead.

"It's already under the Fidelius Charm. With myself as Secret Keeper."

"But why? What do you have in the house that's so important?" He didn't answer Black. If they didn't agree to use what he's offered, then he was certainly not telling them. He's kept the secret to himself for nearly twenty years. And much as he'd prefer to keep it that way, if they're going to be using the estate as their new headquarters then they'll certainly find out.

Antonin just prayed he was ready for that.

"We'd have to go to the estate and check it out for ourselves," Tonks piped. The others all exchanged wary glances before several began nodding their heads in agreement. Great… He closed his eyes and felt Hermione's hand begin to stroke his hair once more. It calmed him slightly but even that couldn't shake the nervousness sitting in his gut.

"Can we go now?" Lupin asked. Might as well get it over with, Antonin thought darkly. There wasn't any use hiding it now that they were seriously considering using the home.

"Let me give Antonin a few potions before he tries apparating," Molly huffed out, obviously upset that everyone was insisting on going right this very second. He shared her sentiments, but the longer he put this off, the worse it'll be. For everyone.

As he downed the potions he was handed, he let them settle for a few moments before attempting to stand up yet again. The ache was still there and a faint pinching sensation, but it wasn't impossible for him to get up. That and the small hands that were helping him to stay steady.

"Alright Dolohov. Kingsley, Tonks, Lupin, and Black will be going with you. They'll inspect the wards and property and decide if we should take the risk of using the building as a new headquarters," Moody angrily explained to him. He didn't need to be told this but he accepted that it would happen regardless of his wishes. The older man was just stuck in his ways. Antonin guessed.

"I'm going too," he heard a stubborn voice announce from next to him. The adults sent her questioning looks and even he had to look down at her in befuddlement. Why was she insisting on going as well?

"Someone needs to watch Professor Dolohov. He's still injured," she announced. Antonin had to stifle his urge to smile. She'd never give up on trying to protect him and loathe as he was to admit it, he was somewhat pleased with her attempts. It showed just how much she cared about him. And the thought of that only served to excite him.

"Let Hermione go," Sirius suddenly said, interrupting whatever a red faced Moody was about to issue. "She's smart enough to handle her own. Besides, she's eighteen. We can't really stop her, now can we?"

No one argued with him. Antonin certainly wasn't. This was one battle that he didn't really want to win. If they used his home as headquarters she'd know sooner or later. It would be inevitable. And the thought of her knowing… He was strangely okay with that thought.

"Now that that's settled. Where to?" Tonks asked, looking to him for answers. Antonin went to the four adults accompanying him and whispered the location into their ears before walking back to Hermione and leaning close to her, breathing in the scent that was uniquely hers.

"Antonin Dolohov lives at 34 West Street, Castle Combe, Wiltshire."

She smiled up at him as he pulled away and he felt the weight on his chest seemingly evaporate. Why did merely telling her where he lived seem so liberating? Would there ever come a time when he could do something normal without having such strong reactions to her?

Somehow he doubted it.

The six of them exited the Burrow and apparated to the secret location of his childhood home. The sight of it brought familiar memories rushing back to him. The first time he ever flew on a broomstick, doing his first bout of accidental magic to reach apples in the tree outside of the home, sitting on the front porch at any time of day and absorbing book after book. It was his second favorite place to sit, next to the expansive library.

Heaving a sigh, he continued through the yard until he reached the first few layers of wards. He allowed the Aurors to inspect them before issuing a pass for them to move freely through them. The four Order members discussed the protections amongst themselves. Antonin could care less about what. He knew each and every enchantment that surrounded the Victorian style home. He put most of them there himself.

Once they were on the porch, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, relishing in the fresh smell that he could only ever associate with the house. The smell of warmth, fire, and spice. It was all he ever knew growing up. And it still remained one of his favorite scents. Next to vanilla and strawberries, that is.

It looked exactly like he remembered as well, having been here only a few months prior. The winding staircase being the first thing you see when you walk in. A long hallway led past it to the kitchen, dining, sitting areas, and study. Up the staircase led to bedrooms, bathrooms, and the library.

"Wow…" The currently pink haired Auror exclaimed. "Much nicer than I expected. Homier, really."

"Exactly… Grimmauld Place looked even worse when we first opened it; if you can believe that. Mostly because it hadn't been lived in for years. But this place… It looks move in ready," Black admonished.

"Do you stay here often, Antonin?" Lupin asked him. "Because honestly, this place appears inhabited."

Just as he said it, the sound of soft footfalls echoed around them. The four Order members jumped and went straight for their wands. But Antonin only looked up as the door to the sitting room opened and a figure stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.

"That's because it is inhabited," he murmured, meeting eyes the same color as his own.

"Antonin?"

"Ya doma, mama."

Ya doma - I'm home