AN: Okay, so a lot of you like the idea of Hermione going grey. That's the idea I'm going with, for later on in the story. This is a monster chapter for me, to tie you all over until I have the time to right the next one.

AN2: Time lapse now. Hermione going to be returning to Hogwarts and tries to cope with retuning to lessons.


Light POV –

She had been married for two weeks. Dumbledore had allowed their 'honeymoon' to be extended, if it could be called that. Bruises littered her arms and face – the product of angering her husband. After the night of neutrality, Hermione thought she understood him a little better, but she had been wrong. Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde had nothing compared to Antonin Dolohov's unprovoked mood changes. He was enigmatic, cocky and deliberately cruel; yet, she saw the kindness that remained buried underneath. A lasting light of innocence in him that stayed protected by his malice and cruelty – only appearing when talking of his parents.

Hermione couldn't wait to return to Hogwarts – the familiarity of the grand castle would provide the break she needed to contemplate her emotions. She was to return that day, and yet, she found herself worried. Adaptable as she was, Hermione knew that returning to Hogwarts and the Order wouldn't be able to protect her against the ever-confusing Antonin Dolohov.

The thing that drew her from her slumber, was the sound of a door opening.. Hermione stretched, sitting up in the giant bed. Sunlight streamed in through the curtains, drawing attention to the semi-nude figure of her husband. Antonin's broad chest was displayed to her curious eyes. Chiselled muscles glistened with residual water; a few stray droplets ran down his abdominal muscles, disappearing beneath the towel. Hermione's tongue darted out, catching her split bottom lip. In the back of her mind, Hermione's lust rose – as did her disgust.

"You're awake early," Antonin observed as he turned away from the wardrobe, clothes in hand. Hermione nodded, her throat dry from sleep. "You return to Hogwarts after lunch, Dumbledore wouldn't allow you anymore time off," he continued. The young bride nodded, before pushing the silk sheets from her legs and crawling to the edge of the mattress. Perching on her knees, she watched intently as Antonin buttoned a black dress shirt.

"What do we do about the Marriage Law? We're meant to see each other for seventy-two hours a we- do you have to dress in front of me?!" Hermione cut off, as Antonin dropped the towel unceremoniously. A devious smirk in place, Antonin slowly drew his boxers up his muscular thighs, repeating the process with his slacks. Hermione's mouth salivated.

Pop! Fern apparated into the luxurious bedroom, with a tray laden with butter-covered pancakes. Stomach growling and rising from the bed, Hermione unburdened Fern of the tray. Clicking her bony fingers, the tiny house-elf summoned an Oxford white blouse and pleated skirt –Hermione's school uniform. Placing the tray on the polished boudoir, the witch gathered the clothing and made for the bathroom. Fully intending on soaking in the bath, she abruptly stopped when Antonin blocked her route.

"Little Bird, you don't need to dress in the bathroom," he purred as he eyed her clothing. Frowning slightly, Hermione suppressed a shiver as her husband's eyes burned with a barely hidden desire. Caressing the apple of her cheek, Antonin chuckled at her confusion.

"This is your bedroom too. Don't hide away from me," he explained. Jumbling his words in her mind, Hermione's face distorted with her disgust.

"You disgusting lecherous bastard! I can't believe that I actually thought you could be...nice!" Hermione yelled, dropping the clothing and slapping him across the face. Head snapped to the side, Hermione didn't see the change in him. She shoved past him. A large hand closed around her upper arm and Hermione found herself whirled around. Dark eyes that had held burning desire, now held an inferno of rage.

Unable to fight against the grip, Hermione stood rooted in fear with her eyes closed. Pain bloomed across her cheek as Antonin struck her. She didn't fall. It hadn't been a strong slap, but it stung.

"Don't hit me. Ever!" Antonin roared at her, before it dropped low, "Or I'll let Bellatrix 'play' with you." Tears stung her whiskey eyes at the thought of once again encountering the living embodiment of insanity. She hadn't fully returned from the day before.


Flashback: The day before

The weight across her hip had become uncomfortable. The density of Antonin's muscles dug into her fragile skin. Hermione shifted, carefully trying to avoid waking the slumbering Deatheater.

"Stay still and sleep," Antonin grumbled, drawing her closer to his chest. He must have been unaware of his tight grasp, squeezing the life from her. A deranged cackle sounded from the door. Antonin bolted upright. The physical change was instantaneous; drawing his body away from Hermione's own, tensing his muscles.

Turning to the door, Hermione felt fear flood her body. Before the couple, stood Bellatrix Lestrange. Wildly tangled hair piled atop her coked head, swaying dangerously as she took in the position of Antonin.

"Didn't want to make her sleep in a cage, like the Mudblood bitch she is?" Bellatrix questioned, the insanity showing in her sunken eyes. Drunkenly swaying, she walked around to Hermione's side of the bed.

"Obviously your husband must like you Mudblood cunt," the personification of insanity stated, roughly grasping Hermione's chin in her dirty hands. Leaning closely towards the younger witch, Bellatrix smirked – showing rotting teeth. Azkaban had been kinder to Antonin than it had to Bellatrix.

"Get up Mudblood," Bellatrix ordered, "The Dark Lord has bestowed upon me the task of ensuring Dolohov has planted a vile Half-blood in you. If he hasn't, then I'll have to watch him do it." Hermione ignored her, pulling her face from her hand. Bellatrix sneered, before smirking over the young witch's head.

Pain blossomed across her scalp, hair tugged upwards. Antonin pulled sharply on a clump of curls. Hermione had no alternative but to follow the large hand in her curls as they pulled her to lie flat on her back. Bellatrix cackled at the tears welling in Hermione's eyes. The young witch willed them not to fall.

"Just do your task Lestrange and remove yourself from my home," Antonin sneered. The sneer didn't fit his face. Bellatrix rolled her eyes before straddling the younger witch. Withdrawing a crooked wand from her sleeve, she positioned it over Hermione's stomach.

The Gryffindor turned her head away, not wanting to see the spell's result. A warmth spread across Hermione's stomach. Looking up at her husband, she was shocked to see a smirk on his face. Her breath escaped her – she was pregnant.

"Well, The Dark Lord shall be pleased," Bellatrix muttered, clearly disappointed by the result. Removing herself from the younger witch, the female Deatheater produced a two letters from her pocket.

"Instructions from the Dark Lord, and a letter from my sister for the Mud blood," she stated as she threw the letters on the bed. Twisting on her toe, she vanished with a resounding crack!

Antonin released her hair, and Hermione bolted upright. Scrambling to the opposite wall, she slid to her knees and allowed the tears to grace her cheeks. Chancing a look at her husband, she was mildly shocked to see a small smile on his face.

"My parents' wish is now a reality. They used to say that they could never truly rest in peace until I had a family of my own...and The Dark Lord has made it happen. I promise you, Little Bird, that I shall try to be more gentle. You're fragile, more so now than before," Antonin monologued aloud, still seated upon the bed.


Hermione was drawn from the memory by a gentle hand upon her cheek. Focusing her gaze, she saw Antonin's worried gaze – felt his calloused hand stroke her bruising cheek.

"Come back, Hermione. I apologise, I should not have struck you," the Deatheater whispered as he tucked a curl behind her ear. It served to further confuse her, he probably wasn't capable of changing his routine of hitting her – even if she was pregnant.

"You shouldn't hit me at all," Hermione stated. Antonin nodded.

"I know, it would harm the baby if you fell," he replied, misinterpreting her words. Releasing her cheek, he walked from the room; head down and half dressed.

Hours passed, before she saw Antonin again that day. Merely minutes before she was due to Floo from her library, wand in hand, the Deatheater appeared in the library. Hermione's back faced him. Hands sliding along her petite waist, he drew her close – the large hands lightly resting on her stomach. The young witch jumped in shock.

"I have spoken to Narcissa Malfoy about your pregnancy," Antonin began, "and have written to Professor Slughorn about brewing you specific pre-natal potions. We cannot have our little one being weak now, can we?"

"I hate you. I'd rather die than bring your spawn into this world," Hermione muttered absentmindedly. She didn't care about what he wanted to do; she needed to go back to Hogwarts and see if a loophole in the Marriage Law had been found. Pulling away from him, Hermione approached the Floo. Without a glance or word to her husband, she Flooed back to Hogwarts.


Dark POV –

The moment Hermione left through the Floo, Antonin began to worry. The feeling of unease spread through his body – was it at her absence or was he feeling more for the little witch? It was clear she despised him, and hadn't said more than a handful of words to him in the last two days. What if she tries to kill our child? Antonin frantically thought, will her despise continue onto our baby? Mamka, Papka...what do I do?

Dragomira's spectral form condensed beside him, her child-like features immortalised as a ghost. After the murder of his sister, Antonin had become withdrawn and had chosen to follow Lord Voldemort for revenge. Reaching to rest a tiny hand millimetres from his cheek, she gave him a small smile. From that smile, Antonin knew what his sister wished to say – Hermione would never harm their baby.


AN3: After hearing about the tragic passing of Alan Rickman, I sobbed my heart out. It is such a sad thought that the world has lost an amazing star. Even though I never saw any of his other films, I just know in my heart that every one of his characters were perfectly played. He will forever be Severus Snape, Head of the Slytherin house, in my heart. Rest in peace, Professor Severus Snape...you're now with Lily, and the world will never be the same.