Chapter Twenty Eight

Antonin was able to get a message to Kingsley within days that several of his fellow Death Eaters were willing to endure exile from their homeland in exchange for their assistance. The number of willing defectors was simply unbelievable. Either life as one of Lord Voldemort's top Death Eaters had become truly unbearable or, as many within the Resistance feared, this was all just another vicious tactic of the side of the Dark to render them all helpless.

Hermione had no fear that Antonin was lying. She couldn't describe exactly how she was certain she knew he was sincere, but she was. He wanted a world where she could be free again and if the child she was carrying really did belong to him, he had one more large incentive to fight for a life free from the dangerous clutches of a half-serpentine mad man. She hoped that in time other members of the Resistance would come to trust as well.

"Arthur said that a large group would be arriving today," Lucius announced between kisses up and down Hermione's neck as he tried to slowly wake her up. She was becoming more and more of a heavy sleeper the longer her pregnancy wore on. She never seemed to get enough sleep so the two permanent male residents of Shell Cottage made certain that they were always quiet in the mornings and late evenings to ensure she got the rest her body desperately needed. "He thought you might like to be a part of the discussion."

"What is it about?" she asked, certain that if Lucius continued doing what he was doing with his mouth neither of them would be getting out of bed any time soon.

"Next big engagement, I am sure. We have all been very quiet this winter on both sides."

He was correct, of course. With only a few more days remaining in the month of February, almost nothing of any value had been completed by the Resistance for months. Well, other than Tildie successfully spiking Lord Voldemort's daily potion of unicorn blood with a weakening agent. Even that, however, was not generating results quickly. Too much weakening at once would draw unwelcome suspicions on Horace Slughorn. It could get him killed and if he were killed, the next potions master Voldemort assigned to brew his stabilization potion might be more careful with security. Tildie may be unable to continue her doctoration of the blood. Worst of all, if sabotage was suspected, Draco would be the obvious choice. The son of the third most Undesirable in the country was already under enough scrutiny.

"Arthur did warn me that Mr. Longbottom is expected to be in attendance today," Lucius said.

Hermione stiffened at the mention of Neville's name. She had not seen him since the day almost two months earlier when she'd sent him crashing through a large window after he insulted Antonin and accused him of raping her to knock her up with his "worthless bastard". Neville had wisely been avoiding her ever since. Even his wife Hannah who had been known to visit the cottage a couple of times a week had not been around. She was secretly thankful that she hadn't had to deal with any of the Longbottoms.

"Will you be all right to attend, my dear?" Lucius was worried about her. Though they'd retreated back somewhat to their familiar intimacy almost as if the three months with Antonin never happened, Hermione had been isolating herself again from the other members of the Resistance.

"I will," she promised though only half-heartedly. "I'm just sick of all the damned gossip."

Lucius kissed her once more and lay down on the bed beside her with his arms wrapped around her entire body. If there was anyone else who could understand how infuriating the Resistance gossip mill could be, it was Lucius. He was almost as interesting a topic of discussion as Hermione. Following Antonin's abrupt and bloody entrance into the safe house New Year's Eve and the display of Lucius physically holding Hermione back from running to the side of the Death Eater, speculations and discussion of their blasted love triangle had been common throughout all of the safe houses in Britain. If Lucius learned that Lee Jordan's outpost in Arizona or the Australian base was apprised of the situation, he would not be surprised. Their idle chatter was damaging to his witch and it made him very angry. Part of him considered whisking her away to some quiet South Pacific island to live out the remainder of the war. If he thought for a moment that Hermione would be willing to abandon the cause she'd lost her two best friends to, Lucius would move them in a heartbeat.

"Do you think they will ever get sick of talking about my life?" Hermione asked with a catch in her throat.

Lucius kissed the top of her head. He wanted to lie to her, but she needed to hear the truth.

"Probably not, my darling. You have about three more months before our baby is due. Plenty of tongues will be wagging about who the father is. Then once he is born the gossip will continue as everyone who sees him tries to decide which one of his potential fathers he looks like. Then, I am afraid, even if his paternity is one hundred percent evident after birth, the small minds will continue to gossip."

Hermione sighed.

"You know, Lucius, when I told you to tell me the truth, I didn't mean you had to tell me the whole truth."

"Would you prefer that I lie? Because we can both pretend that no one cares if you would rather."

"No, I need the truth. No sense running away from it. Too bad we're just so bloody fascinating."

Lucius' chuckle in her ear delighted Hermione and she joined him in the laughter. She could hardly believe at times how much her life had changed in the past two months since the worst New Years of her life. Well, worst New Year's day. The night had been pretty fucking fantastic.

"What do you think the next big engagement will be, Lucius?"

He had been giving that very question a lot of thought in recent days. If they were truly able to rely on help from Antonin and his "Disillusioned Death Eaters", then the end might very well be coming quite soon. They needed to take control of the Ministry and then ultimately destroy the source of all evil. The Dark Lord stationed himself at Hogwarts to take charge of the next generation of magical minds. He would need to be defeated likely in the very same place where Harry Potter was killed almost two years earlier.

"I assume we will be dealing with the Ministry next," he answered. "But I am not one hundred percent certain. There may be something else that I am unaware of. Kingsley has not been by in a long time."

Hermione reluctantly sat up in bed dislodging herself from Lucius' embrace as she did so. She leaned her back against the headboard and clutched her right wrist with her left hand. Antonin's trick with the pressure points on the inside of her wrists was helpful first thing when she woke up. Her bloody useless healer-in-training continued to assure her that morning sickness would lessen the further along she got in her pregnancy. So far he had been dead wrong. While it wasn't as severe as those first few months, every day she still felt mild nausea. Other than that and just the sheer exhaustion she felt at all times, her pregnancy had progressed well. She would be glad when the end of May or the beginning of June arrived.

"Are you feeling all right?" Lucius asked.

"Just the usual. Give me a few minutes and it will pass."

"Would you like me to bring you up something to eat?"

Lucius was always attentive to her needs, but when he got into his mother hen-mode she wanted to scream. It was becoming evident that he and Arthur Weasley were spending entirely too much time together. They both channeled Molly Weasley and fussed and fretted over her all day long. One or both of them were always making her the dreadful decaffeinated tea that the healer allowed or were in the kitchen thinking up new foods to tempt her non-existent appetite. She appreciated their efforts, but she was being slowly smothered into madness.

"Please stop worrying so much about food, Lucius. You know how much I hate that."

He knew better than to take her sharp comments personally. A tired Hermione was an irritable Hermione and she had been tired for months. Lucius leaned across the bed to give her a quick peck on the cheek before getting up. He had been up and dressed for hours assisting Arthur downstairs getting the cottage ready for the meeting of the Resistance leaders. Their safe house was by far the largest of the homes available for use. Kingsley would've offered the use of the small house in Kent that he used to share with Ryan, but because he was now the person that the Death Eaters wishing to defect contacted directly, it didn't seem safe for the leaders of the Resistance to take too many meetings there.

"I will be downstairs if you need me," Lucius said as he walked out of the bedroom.

Hermione was grateful for a few minutes alone whenever she got the chance. She knew Lucius and Arthur meant well, but sometimes they hindered more than they helped. Especially Lucius. He had been determined since their massive fight at the beginning of the year to put her needs first and he'd made tremendous efforts in trying to bring their relationship back to what it had been. They both knew that their relationship had irrevocably changed. He was determined that the changes would only be positive. She appreciated the efforts.

The sound of the front door to the cottage opening and closing followed by the arrival of multiple familiar voices finally prompted Hermione to get out of bed. Tempting as it was to stay hidden away in the tiny bedroom while everyone downstairs made plans on how they were going to continue to fight this war, she knew she was needed. While she wouldn't be able to contribute physically in any way, she knew that her mind had always been her greatest weapon. She dressed as quickly as her increasingly clumsy body would allow her.

Every living member of the Weasley family was assembled in the large kitchen when Hermione finally made it downstairs. Hermione pushed open the door and was greeted with a sea of red hair and freckled smiling faces. Before her eyes could even adjust to the scene, a small, but fierce feminine form had her arms wrapped around Hermione.

"'Mione! I've missed you so much!" Ginny was laughing in Hermione's ear, a sure sign that she was trying to keep herself from crying.

"Ginny? I thought you were in Ireland."

The two young witches broke their embrace apart. Ginny smiled back at her friend and Hermione burst into tears. While she had always been closer friends with Harry and Ron, Hermione had not realized how much she missed her friendship with Ginny until she was standing in front of her for the first time in almost two solid years. They had not seen the other since the day of the failed battle that claimed the lives of so many of their loved ones.

"You certainly look a bit different," Ginny teased as she took a good look at Hermione's heavily pregnant form. She giggled when she saw the deep blushes creep up on her older friend's cheeks. Hermione was too easy at times.

"Yes, well, you look older," Hermione replied.

Ginny laughed and hugged Hermione close again.

"I am so glad you are safe now, 'Mione," she whispered so that no one else could hear. "I've been so worried about you."

"Thank you, Ginny."

Ginny pulled out of the embrace and began to speak in a louder voice.

"Dean and I arrived last night. We're staying with George and Angie."

Hermione missed the arrival of her fellow Gryffindor Dean Thomas during her embrace with Ginny. Dean gave her a quick hug before stepping back to Ginny's side. The protective hand he placed on the small of Ginny's back didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the room. Charlie's comment on New Year's about her wanting to be where Dean was suddenly made a lot more sense. Hermione smiled at the reunited couple and hoped that their relationship this time would bring them both some happiness. Everyone deserved to have someone they loved during times like these. She felt Lucius' hand on her back in much the same manner as Dean's on Ginny's.

"Mr. Thomas, have you had the opportunity to visit Miss Lovegood any time recently?" he asked, anxious to know anything about his grandson and his mother.

"Yes, I actually just saw them last week," Dean replied with a bright smile. "They are doing wonderfully, Mr. Malfoy. Xeno is getting huge! He's trying to walk. Luna asked me to give you this if I happened to see you when I came."

Dean handed Lucius a small photograph from the pocket of his jacket. Lucius held it in his hands as if it were made of fairy wings and gold. His beautiful silvery grey eyes filled up with tears. He smiled down at the photograph before showing it to Hermione. Luna was holding a much larger Xeno in her lap. The handsome infant was almost nine months old now. He was smiling to the camera and waving his chubby little hands. He was Draco in miniature, a Draco before the stress and pain of the war had gotten to him. She handed it back to Lucius who had been using the last few seconds to compose himself. Arthur came up behind them to clap Lucius on the back.

"You didn't do him justice, Lucius. He's even more beautiful than you said he was."

"Thank you, Arthur. You are correct. He is even more exquisite than I remember."

Lucius slipped the photograph into his pocket.

"Thank you, Mr. Thomas. This means a great deal to me."

The front door opened in the other room to admit even more Resistance members. Hermione was feeling a little overwhelmed by the crush of Weasleys inside of the kitchen. She slipped out of the room to greet whoever just arrived. Kingsley was alone in the lounge. They exchanged warm smiles and brief hugs. As time went on, the former auror was beginning to resume a little bit more of his former self. Hermione knew that he was still grieving, but his determination to finish this war once and for all was giving him purpose. He seemed to be taking better care of himself which she was pleased to see.

"How are you feeling, Hermione?" Everyone always asked her that question and while she appreciated the concern, it was getting rather old.

"I'm all right. Just tired, but I'm sure I'm not the only one."

Kingsley smiled his familiar smile at her.

"Mr. Dolohov was asking after you yesterday," he informed her with a hesitancy he couldn't hide. "He is concerned for your health and well, you understand."

"Yes, I do. You may pass on the message the next time you see him that I am, no, we are both, doing well. And is he?"

"He has been able to provide some invaluable information already. I do not like the man and I will never change my opinion of him, but he does at least seem to be sincere about doing what he can to help bring about You-Know-Who's demise."

"I'm glad to hear that he has been able to help. I believe he is sincere as well."

Their conversation was interrupted by the opening of the front door once more. Three familiar figures entered the lounge. Aberforth Dumbledore nodded curtly to the two of them before heading towards the kitchen without saying a word. Hannah and Neville Longbottom entered just behind. Neville met Hermione's eyes for half a second before dropping his gaze to his feet and turning bright red. Hannah took Neville's arm firmly with her hand to drag him over to Hermione.

"Hermione, I believe my husband has something he would like to say to you," Hannah announced with a gruff tone that would allow no argument. "Don't you, Neville?"

Neville lifted his eyes from his feet to look back into Hermione's. He seemed as if he would rather face Lord Voldemort himself with nothing but a Muggle switchblade than to speak to his old friend again.

"'Mione, I owe you an apology," he squeaked out.

"You're damn right you owe her an apology!" Hannah practically shouted. "She is one of your oldest friends and I am completely disgusted by what you said to her the last time you were here."

"I'm very sorry, Hermione," he said, his eyes misting with humiliation and the knowledge of how much his behavior hurt his friend. "I never should have said what I said to you."

"No, Neville, you really shouldn't have," Hermione replied. "But I can understand your anger. Understand it, not justify it. I accept your apology."

Neville nodded once at her and rushed out the room as quickly as he could. Hannah stayed behind. Her own face was bright red with a variety of emotions and her own tears were streaming down her face. She threw her arms around Hermione's bulky frame.

"I am so sorry, Hermione. I didn't know what he said to you until just late last night. If it hadn't been after midnight I would've insisted that he come over right then to apologize."

"It's all right, Hannah."

The Hufflepuff pushed away from Hermione's embrace gently.

"No, it's not! He told me that the two of you had a disagreement the last time he was here. Said it was nothing serious but it might be best if we gave you some time to cool down. I just assumed you both had some harsh words for each other, but I had no clue what he said. It's just awful!"

"I'm all right, Hannah."

"Yes, well, no thanks to my arsehole husband. He and Ab were talking late last night. I walked in and demanded to know what he said. If I had known how serious this was, Hermione, we would've been here much sooner."

Hermione excused herself from the room to escape back upstairs. She suddenly found herself in the mood to be alone. Too many tears had already been shed over that horrible New Year's Day. It had taken several days, but when the impact of Neville's unbelievably cruel words hit her, she'd been inconsolable. To know that her oldest living friend was truly of the opinion that she had gone insane because she was attempting to defend the Death Eater who had saved her life on more than one occasion, had been devastating. And then to actually hear someone she loved call her child a worthless bastard was the final straw. She'd broken down in the bathtub one morning. Lucius had to carry her to bed and hold her for what she was certain were many hours to calm her down. Neville had no idea to what extent his words had truly injured her.

She lay back down in the bed that she had only recently vacated. The sounds of the house steadily filling up with people drifted up the stairs and down the corridor. Sometimes being around so many people after so much time of isolation was petrifying. She knew that one day she would have to relearn how to be in large groups, but for now, she wasn't ashamed to hide away in the bedroom. The Resistance members were going to talk about her as if she wasn't there even if she was. There seemed no point in giving them the satisfaction of her presence.

"Here you are," Lucius said about twenty or so minutes later when he opened the door. He crossed the room to sit on the bed next to her supine form. "I have been wondering where you were."

"I didn't feel like being a bloody animal in the zoo with everyone staring and gawking at me again," she answered. Her head was lying on the pillow faced away from her wizard. She started to push his hand away when he began running it through her hair, but thought better of it. "Everyone always stares at me and whispers about me. I'm bloody sick of it, Lucius."

"Where is that famous Gryffindor courage everyone in your House is supposed to possess?" he teased.

"Must have left it on the floor of the Great Hall the day my best friend died."

Her melancholic moods had been increasing as time wore on. Lucius leaned down to kiss the top of her head. He stretched out behind her, spooning her form into his.

"Did Mr. Longbottom say something else to upset you, my darling?"

"No, he apologized to me."

"Did he?"

"Well, Hannah forced him to anyway. She was angry with him and ashamed."

"I am pleased to learn that at least one member of the Longbottom family has some sense about them then."

Hermione could not stop the flood of tears that gushed from her eyes. She was so tired of crying all of the time. Some days it felt like she had been crying for three entire years never ceasing.

"I want to go home, Lucius," she cried. He could sympathize. Lucius ran his arm up and down her side in an effort to calm her sobs. "I want to sleep in our own bed again. Sit in the study by the fireplace. Eat breakfast in the kitchen. Spend the morning walking the grounds with you."

"I do as well, my dear."

"I can't stand this place anymore, Lucius. I'm afraid that I'm going to suffocate in this house. It's driving me bloody crazy! And don't you dare blame this on my hormones. If I hear one more person tell me that I'm feeling the way I'm feeling because of my pregnancy hormones, I swear I will Avada them on the spot!"

Lucius was thankful that her back was blocking his smirk from her view. She was certainly not the only one feeling that way. He missed his home tremendously. Missed his dogs, poor creatures. Missed his son. Missed his books. Missed his wine cellar. Missed the freedom he once had to walk up and down Diagon Alley without fear of being arrested or murdered. He longed for the day that he could take Hermione back home to the manor to live the rest of their lives in peace with his son's family living in an another wing of the same house.

"Everyone is so quick to dismiss my feelings because I'm pregnant. Fucking maddening!"

Lucius couldn't disguise his chuckle. His witch grew more obscene the more upset she was. He found it positively adorable.

"Don't you dare laugh at me, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy!"

He kissed the top of her head once more. She seemed at least slightly appeased by the affectionate gesture.

"You should probably head back downstairs," she said after they lay there for several minutes in relative silence. The only noises came from the members of the Resistance arriving downstairs and moving around the house.

"Do you not wish to join me, Hermione?"

"Not right now. Maybe later once the meeting is in full swing. I'll see how I'm feeling then."

Lucius removed himself from the bed after placing yet another soft kiss on her head. He promised to pay close attention to anything that she might miss while she remained upstairs.

She must have fallen asleep due to the additional exhaustion brought on by her emotional outburst with Lucius because when she opened her eyes back up, Hermione could sense a shifting in the house. The aura felt a bit off. Not enough to concern her or make her feel unsafe, but she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable staying inside the bedroom.

Hermione descended the stairs carefully. She could feel a presence in the air of magic that had not been there when she was downstairs earlier in the morning. It was unnerving. When she made it to the bottom of the stairs, she stopped to take in the scene before her. Every place that a person could be seated was taken up. Witches and wizards, many Hermione had never seen in her entire life, were standing all over the large open lounge. She could see through the propped open kitchen door that there were even more people inside that room. If she had to estimate the number of people currently in the house, she would have to guess close to a hundred. The cottage never felt so small.

Kingsley was leading the large gathering. She wasn't listening to his words as she continued to observe the room. Occasionally she would hear words like "Ministry", "Raid" and "Imperius" but nothing that made sense to her. Obviously she missed a great deal during her unplanned nap. There was a space next to where Hannah was standing by the front door. Hermione carefully made her way around several strangers seated on the wood floors to reach her friend.

"Did I miss much?" she whispered into Hannah's ear.

"Yes, but it's simple enough to catch up," Hannah whispered back. "We're taking back the Ministry."

She wasn't surprised by that news in the slightest. It was Lucius' assumption when they spoke earlier about what the next big engagement would be. It made the most sense. The Ministry was the first organization infiltrated by Lord Voldemort's influence when the war broke out in earnest. Not only would it be a strategic victory for the Resistance but it would be a boon to the morale of the country if it were back again in the hands of people who could be trusted.

"You did miss Dolohov's plans for how the Death Eaters are going to help," Hannah informed quietly. "Interesting ideas they have."

At the mention of Antonin's name, Hermione's eyes shot up. She'd only glanced around the room earlier. After only two seconds of intense searching, her eyes met a familiar pair of dark brown eyes on the other side of the room. Antonin was seated by the fireplace flanked by four other Death Eaters. A shimmering in front of the dangerous wizards explained the strange sense of magic she felt earlier. They were seated behind a powerful magical shield. Whether it was for their safety or the safety of the Resistance members or perhaps both wasn't clear.

Antonin looked a bit thinner than the last time she saw him, but didn't everybody? The force of his gaze in her direction made her feel self-conscious. He wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was examining her entire body from afar. His eyes dropped from hers to take in the rest of her body. She'd been unable to wear any of her usual clothes since about week fourteen and had to rely on loose, flowing dresses that did nothing to hide the bulge of her stomach. The tiniest smile crossed his mouth at her appearance before he removed all traces and turned his full attention back to Kingsley.

The other Death Eaters weren't as subtle in their observations. Hermione could feel the intensity of Thorfinn Rowle's hatred flow across the room at her in waves. The large, blond man was openly glaring at her. No doubt he was remembering the day that she modified his memory. He'd been tortured by Draco Malfoy on Lord Voldemort's orders for his failure in capturing Harry. Yaxley and Mulciber glowered in her direction. Travers also seemed displeased to see her in the room.

"Why are they here?" she asked Hannah. "Surely they didn't have to actually come to the meeting."

"Kingsley left right before the meeting began to bring them. They're unable to perform any form of magic while behind that shield. He wanted the Resistance members to actually see them before we entered the Ministry. Thought it might help some of them to trust that they're really going to be on our side."

"Is it working?"

"I don't think so. There was a huge argument about them earlier when they arrived. Several thought they were just trying to infiltrate our organization to sell us out to You Know Who. It took a long time to settle everyone down."

"I didn't hear anything."

"That gorgeous wizard of yours cast some silencing charms on the upstairs so you wouldn't be disturbed."

Lucius was seated only a few feet from the Death Eaters. He turned to look in her direction when he saw the change in Antonin's expression. There were too many people between his spot and the front door for him to join her, but Hermione knew he was itching to. He kept looking between her and his former comrades with an uneasy countenance.

"What about the Minister?" demanded an unknown wizard in the middle of the room with a heavy foreign accent. "What do we do with him?"

There were several mutters around the room as others wondered the same thing.

"Pius Thicknesse has been under a very strong Imperius Curse since before the Ministry fell," answered Kingsley. "We will attempt to capture him without harming him to get him the assistance he needs."

"No!" shouted the unknown wizard. He was not pleased with the assertion that the Minister would be unharmed. "He may be under Imperius, but he doesn't deserve to be let go!"

Hermione stared at the wizard trying to place who he was. He was probably around thirty years old. Not very tall. Maybe only five feet nine inches tall. He had dark, almost black hair, and wire rimmed glasses that reminded her a great deal of Harry's glasses. She thought he was probably Russian or at the very least Eastern European, but she couldn't understand his passionate hatred for the Minister. Yes, Pius Thicknesse was a puppet of the Dark and after hearing from Lucius that he was a regular at the Umbridge Home for Young Ladies, Hermione knew he was a disgusting pig. Why the vehemence from someone not even from their country?

"Who is that?" she asked Hannah in a whisper.

"Yuri Lantsov, I believe his name is. I met him yesterday. He is Katie Bell's new husband."

"Katie? I didn't know she was back in the country."

Katie was one of the over a hundred "Umbridge Girls" that had been snuck out of the country many months earlier. She was still living in Russia the last Hermione heard.

"She's not. She's still in Russia, but her husband volunteered to come when Percy Weasley told him he was coming back to help. They just got married a month ago. Katie was living with his parents after she was rescued. His mother is a Healer. Must have fallen in love. It all sounds very romantic. I wish Katie were here to give us the details, but I know she keeps in touch with Angie. We should ask her later."

The young women were getting annoyed looks from some of the others seated on the floor around them. Hermione turned her attention back to Kingsley.

"The attack will happen very soon," Kingsley announced to the room. "As soon as we know when, we will be contacting everyone to prepare."

A short time later the meeting was over. Several members began to file out of the house to leave. Others remained where they were seated to continue the discussion of what they just heard with those seated around them. Hermione glanced back up in Antonin's direction to find he was looking again in hers. She started to give him a small smile, but immediately thought better of it. There was no sense in encouraging him in any way. She loved Lucius. She had already made her decision and Antonin had already made his. Assuming he was able to survive the fall of his Dark Lord, he would be going into exile.

Kingsley crossed beyond the barrier of the magical shield. After a few quiet words with the Death Eaters in attendance that didn't quite cross the room to meet her ears, he removed what looked like an old butterbeer bottle from his pocket. Antonin took the bottle in his hand and his four associates huddled around him to touch the bottle as well. Hermione's eyes met Antonin's one final time before all five of the Death Eaters disappeared.

Hermione began to notice the whispers once more. As she looked around the room several people, some she knew, but most she didn't, were looking in her direction and whispering to each other. Sure, some of them were likely discussing the events of the meeting, but she wasn't naïve enough to believe that they all were. She paced across the room towards the staircase to escape the stares. Just another lion locked in her damned cage.