Chapter Forty-Six

June 7, 1973

7:30 pm

The temperature in the flat seemed to drop twenty degrees in the blink of an eye. Hermione couldn't suppress the shudder that went through her entire body. She didn't know what to say to Igor, but she also didn't want to lie anymore. Her initial reaction was to simply remain silent. Traitorous thoughts began to fill her brain. Maybe she would feel better if she was completely honest with the wizard. Hadn't he already proven that he was worthy to be trusted?

"Your complete lack of a response tells me all I need to know."

"Igor, you're not going to do anything foolish, are you?"

No longer content to remain seated in one place, the tall, solemn wizard began pacing the room in silence. Hermione could tell that he was very angry. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists as he moved. She knew he was doing what he could to keep his emotions under control. Finally after a long, uncomfortable stretch of silence, he spoke.

"One thing you won't read in that book is about a werewolf's mating habits. Even that book, which could earn me at least a large fine if one of your Ministry officials ever caught wind I had it and raided my flat, doesn't cover it. Too salacious. Too frightening to young impressionable witches and wizards."

Igor rolled his eyes dramatically at his own remark and crossed the room to sit next to her on the decadent leather sofa.

"My father's library is extensive. I might never be able to get you out of it."

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. An almost strangled laugh erupted out of Igor. The sound was strange in the tense atmosphere.

"As a child I was terrified of werewolves and vampires. My older sister Elya was quite mean to me when we were younger. Used to torment me with lies about the creatures so I resolved to learn everything I could about them. I would sneak into my father's library when he was gone to read the more dangerous volumes."

Hermione couldn't help but think the image of a frightened young Igor sneaking into a library was adorable. The thought of the tall, imposing man having an older sister who picked on him made her smile. Igor reached across the sofa to take one of her hands in his. The act made the witch nervous. It felt as if he was preparing her for something truly awful.

"When a fully grown werewolf finds its mate, or at least the one he wishes to make his mate, he must claim her in an act of submission."

Hermione's stomach twisted at his words. Her mind rushed back to New Year's when she laid on the floor of her father's pub completely frozen in fear. Simply lying there and allowing him to do what he did was definitely an act of submission. He held her throat in a crushing grip until she complied. She didn't want to know anymore, but she needed to know everything she could. If Greyback had plans to try again, she needed to be prepared.

"Once he claims her, he marks her by biting the spot where her neck meets her shoulder right as he orgasms. Did Greyback…"

"No, Ted walked in before he could."

Igor's sigh was dripping with heavy relief.

"He will try again. You know that, right?"

Hermione did not trust herself to speak. She simply nodded. The silence returned between the two lovers. A disturbing thought occurred to Hermione that she knew she had to share with Igor whether she wanted to or not. Before she could talk herself out of it, she was telling him all about Greyback stalking her to Antonin's flat. He clenched his jaw when she described the fearsome creature pulling her between the two buildings to promise her that the day would come when he would mark her as his mate. Igor was once again very upset.

"You're not safe, Charodeyka. Not as long as that monster is out there."

She didn't want to know the full truth. There was some bliss in ignorance after all. Was she not terrified enough already without possessing all of the details of what Greyback wished to do to her given the chance? Despite believing she might be only slightly happier with the unknown, she knew deep down that she needed to know all of the truth. It might mean her life or the life of someone she loved.

"What happens if a werewolf is successful?" she asked, almost afraid to breathe while he answered.

"Ideally, this process would take place under the Full Moon. I think he used New Year's as a convenience, but if I know the monster like I'm afraid I do, he will try next when it's a Full Moon."

A terrifying fear possessed the young woman.

"Like when he's transformed?"

His first attack was bad enough. Imagining it happening again when he was already transformed into his werewolf form was the stuff of nightmares. Hermione was certain she would never be able to remove that fear from her mind. Her question came out in a shriek.

"Just before moonrise, but yes. It would ideally happen in time that his chosen mate would experience their first transformation before the wound in her shoulder heals and before the act is complete."

She could not sit still any longer. Hermione jumped up from the sofa, the book crashing to the floor with a deafening thump. As quickly as her legs could carry her, she ran to his bathroom. She only just barely made it in time to thrown up in his toilet instead of all over the expensive marble floor.

Igor rushed into the bathroom only steps behind her to be a silent support. When the heaves ended and every ounce of food in her stomach was gone, he handed her a towel. Hermione burst into manic tears when she no longer had vomit to occupy her thoughts. Greyback raping her had been the worst possibly event she could imagine. It happening again and him marking her as his mate and turning her into a werewolf was worse than she could have ever believed. Igor pulled her into his arms in an attempt to calm her cries.

"There's a little over a week until the next Full Moon. I'm going to owl my sister Sveta. She studies werewolves in Russia for the Magical Party. She'll know what to do. Stay home all day and don't go outside for any reason. He might try to catch you in the daytime and hide you away until night."

Hermione began to wonder if she would ever be brave enough to go outside again. She briefly considered telling Aberforth about the predicament she found herself in, and almost instantly decided against it. Her dad was the kind of person who would rush out to confront the werewolf and get himself hurt. Igor might have been angry, but he was not rash. The Sorting Hat would never put him in Gryffindor.

"I should've known he was going to do something to you. After he saw us in Hogsmeade out in the woods, he started asking me about you every time he saw me. It was like he was obsessed."

"There's something else I need to tell you, Igor."

She wanted to lay all of the cards out on the table and have zero secrets between them about Greyback.

"That night when you and I…" she began, her confidence disappearing more with each word that tumbled out. "When you and I… up against the goat pen. Do you remember?"

"How could I ever forget?"

He smirked at the memory.

"He saw us. He watched us."

The smirk fell off of Igor's face.

"When you went back inside and I was feeding the girls, he came around to the outside of the fence and told me what he witnessed. He sniffed the air and told me that if he was going to hurt me I would already be screaming. Then later, after I left Hogwarts, he followed me out into the woods and pinned me up against a tree. I know he was watching me several times when I was in Diagon Alley after that. When he cornered me in Knockturn Alley, he…"

"He what, Hermione?" Igor's fury was evident.

"He told me that he had been longing to mark me as his ever since he smelled me come all over your cock."

Igor carefully pushed the upset woman away to allow him to stand back up on his feet. From his lofty height, he stared down at Hermione still seated on the cold marble. His dark blue eyes were filled with anger and unshed tears.

"You can't keep things like that from me, Hermione. Do you understand?"

All she could manage in response was a nod of her head. He gestured to the sink.

"Clean yourself up and I'll make us some tea."

Hermione took her time washing her face and cleaning out her mouth. For yet another time in her life she was thankful for the presence of mind to always carry around an extra toothbrush and toothpaste in her beaded bag. She could almost hear her Muggle parents' advice to always be prepared ringing in her head as she cleaned all evidence of sickness from her mouth.

Igor was standing in the middle of his kitchen pouring out tea when she finally joined him. The time alone in the bathroom had given her plenty of opportunity to compose herself. Yes, Greyback was a complication she did not need in her life, but at least with Igor she knew she would not be alone. Hadn't she faced worse already? At least he didn't seem eager to kill her. That was more than the Death Eaters she confronted in the last war were willing to offer.

There was a definite feeling of awkwardness between the two. Somehow it didn't feel possible that only a few hours earlier they were both naked in bed together. How could so much change just because of a single conversation? She hoped that their friendship was not irrevocably changed. In a complete surprise, she had come to value Igor Karkaroff's friendship immensely.

They sat across the kitchen table from each other sipping their tea in silence for several, long minutes. Hermione was anxious for anything to say. What did one follow up a confession-filled discussion up with? Talking about the weather seemed a ridiculous option. She knew what his work was like and he had visited hers countless times. Finally, she blurted out what seemed like a safe question.

"Is your sister Sveta the one who helped decorate your flat?"

Completely caught off-guard by the question at first, Igor stared at her for a few seconds before chuckling.

"I wish. She wouldn't have picked that ugly green carpet in the bedroom. My sister Katya has deplorable taste."

"How many older sisters do you have?"

"Five. I'm the baby and the only boy."

Suddenly a lot of his past behavior made an awful lot of sense. Hermione laughed.

"It's no wonder you're so arrogant. With that many sisters you must have been an absolute spoiled terror."

Igor smirked again and joined in her laughter. The tension that had hung in the air dissipated quite quickly once they were able to find something to talk about less serious than homicidal and obsessive lycanthropes.

"I have become accustomed to getting what I want."

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up under his suddenly intense gaze.

"And what is it that you want?"

Removing his wand from the pocket of his pajamas, Igor banished their empty teacups across the room to the sink. Another wave of the wand cleared away a stack of newspapers and letters. An almost feral grin crossed his full lips.

"Right now I think I would like to test how sturdy the top of this table is."


June 28, 1973

6:50 pm

Apparating to her uncle's estate had become almost second nature to Hermione. In the weeks leading up to Rodolphus' engagement party or betrothal bonding or whatever the unnecessary Pureblood custom was called, she had been there more times than she could count. Regnault insisted that she learn the required spells to the degree that he was personally satisfied with. The Head of the Lestrange family was a complete perfectionist. He quizzed her on the most arcane Pureblood betrothal customs just to be certain that she had actually read the book he sent. Three additional volumes followed after the first. She could safely say that she was an expert in the archaic customs that should have been done away with centuries earlier.

She had been dreading the night since she knew it was going to happen. Her uncle's repeated lessons and tests did not help. Since the invitations went out to all of the right people, her cousin had not been himself. Rodolphus had been miserable even if he exerted a great deal of effort in pretending otherwise. When she cornered him alone, he would not admit the truth that he was upset. He began spending a great deal of time at the shop immersing himself in the day to day running of his pride and joy. Caradoc urged her not to push him too hard. Rodolphus was doing what was within his power to do to keep his mind off of his impending nuptials. She had only reluctantly agreed after Caradoc threatened her more than a few times.

Hermione was later arriving to the estate than she should have been. More than once Regnault ordered her to be there no later than half past six. A second late was a black mark in his eyes. Tardiness was not something the man could abide. Several of the guests were already entering the gates when she arrived. Regnault was not pleased. His younger son caught his cousin's eye and smirked. Rabastan may have been eerily similar to his father, but he did not think punctuality was as dire an issue. In fact, he always found it amusing when his cousin flouted his father's orders about when to arrive.

"I understand your feelings about this, Hermione, but that is no reason to shirk your duties as the lady of this family," Regnault admonished her only moments after his lips brushed her cheek.

"Will the lovely Miss Black be the lady once they're married?"

"Yes, her status as the wife of the Heir would make her the preeminent witch in the Lestrange family."

"Thank, Merlin."

Regnault narrowed his eyes at his niece's cheeky response. Hermione half-hoped that he would kick her out. She hated greeting all of the self-important guests as a representative of the family. There were a number of invited distinguished guests that she never wanted to cross paths with again.

"Why don't you go check on your cousin? He still hasn't come out of his room. Rabastan and I can greet the guests."

Hermione was grateful for the opportunity to flee. She practically ran into the manor when given the chance. Ignoring the few guests that had already begun to assemble in the stately rooms on the ground floor, she picked up the train of her deep purple gown to rush up the stairs. One knock on Rodolphus' door was all that was required before she heard his voice giving his permission to enter. She was surprised to find Igor standing in the room dressed in his finest dress robes.

"Are we engaged and I didn't realize it, Igor?"

The Russian wizard's eyes widened at her playful remark. They had been spending a great deal of time together since the afternoon he pulled her into the apothecary out of the rain, but they certainly were not serious. She couldn't help but laugh at his discomfort.

"I was under the impression that my uncle wasn't going to allow you back in his home until you made an honest witch out of me and agreed to marry me."

Understanding she was only teasing him, Igor laughed. Rodolphus rolled his eyes and stood up from the edge of the bed he was sitting on to greet Hermione with a warm hug. She tried not to make it obvious that she was using the affectionate gesture as an opportunity to smell him for any trace of alcohol. Since the horrible morning at the lodge, she hadn't seen any evidence that he was drinking, but silently feared that it would only be a matter of time before he started up again. Thankfully, he did not appear to be drunk or even on his way to being drunk in that moment. Maybe that was why he hadn't yet summoned up enough courage to make his way downstairs to face his bleak future.

"I'm going to pretend I don't know there's anything going on between you two again."

Both started to protest, but Rodolphus held up a hand to silence them.

"I'm not stupid. All either one of you talk about lately is the other."

Igor caught Hermione's eye and he smirked. Rodolphus rolled his eyes again. Clearly they weren't being as discreet as they thought they were. Her cousin straightened his robes and headed for the door. Before he stepped out, he turned around to stare at them both.

"I'm going downstairs now. Please don't do anything in here that would make me need to incendio my sheets."

They both laughed at his disgusted face as he left them alone. In order not to tempt the wizard who had made it his personal mission over the previous three weeks to prove to her that she was capable of having a very healthy sex life again, Hermione stayed close to the door.

"You never answered my question," she teased, deftly stepping aside when he drew closer. "Should I be expecting to be dragged to another one of these events as the bride soon?"

Undeterred by her movement away from him, Igor used the length of his arms to his advantage. He easily caught her by the waist and pulled her body against his. Appreciation for the low-cut of her neckline was clear as his eyes raked over her attire. She felt her stomach swoop in anticipation.

"No, we are not engaged to be married," he replied, his voice dropping to low tone that seemed to cut straight through the silk of her knickers. "Your uncle invited me personally and offered to put all past unpleasantness behind us."

"How generous of him. He's not a man who changes his opinion lightly."

"Apparently, my value in your uncle's eyes went up quite a bit once he heard about me defending you against the Dolohov boy's rather harsh handling of you in Knockturn Alley. He thanked me for protecting you and keeping you out of harm. I am welcome any time I wish to come to the manor."

"That's wonderful news."

Igor's grip on her waist tightened. He leaned down from his lofty height to brush his lips against hers. The kiss lasted only a moment before he stepped back.

"I've actually been needing a minute alone with you."

He reached into the pocket of his robes to pull out a small velvet box the size of his palm.

"Sveta owled me yesterday. I didn't tell her all of the details, but she sent this. Some of our beliefs in Russia can seem a bit odd to those who don't know much about Dark creatures. It would be impossible to find this in Britain. Sveta had it specially made for me."

Igor opened the box to reveal a beautiful silver locket. It was absolutely stunning with its intricate runic engravings and its delicate silver chain. Hermione gasped when he picked it up out of the box to place around her neck.

"The inside of the locket holds a mix of rye, aconite, mistletoe, and a few other plants known to repel werewolves that she wouldn't name. It's solid silver and has been imbued with a number of powerful anti-werewolf spells."

"Igor, this is too much. It must have cost a fortune."

"And are you not worth a fortune, Charodeyka?"

He leaned down once more to kiss her. She could feel her eyes tear up. Almost as soon as the second kiss began, he ended it to hand her a clean handkerchief with a smile.

"It's Unbreakable and only the wearer is able to remove it. If Greyback tries to get near you again, he will not like what happens."

"Thank you, Igor."

His third kiss was a great deal more passionate than the previous two. They stood in front of the door to Rodolphus' bedroom for a long time exploring the familiar sensations of their fervent kisses. Yet again, Igor was the one to step back.

"I think we should go downstairs before poor Rod needs new sheets."

The couple stepped out of the privacy of the bedroom together. Already the manor house was filling up with the sounds of a number of guests milling around downstairs. Orchestral music could be heard wafting up the stairs as well. Threats of rain all day moved the party from outside under a tent like her debut to the spacious formal rooms inside. It was a good thing that the manor was large enough to host the four hundred guests quite comfortably inside.

"Where are you staying tonight after this is all over?" Igor asked as he led her down the main staircase by the hand.

"I thought I would just stay here."

His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her body close enough to allow him to whisper directly in her ear.

"Come home with me."

Her laughter ran through the main entrance hall to the manor. They were only half a staircase away from reaching the ground level. Several guests turned their heads in their direction when she laughed. Quietly, she agreed. Certainly she would have a great deal more fun after the dismal party was over if she could slip away to Igor's flat instead of sleeping down the corridor from her uncle. Somehow she doubted he had removed the "anti-shagging" charms from her bed.

Igor's grip on her waist tightened slightly with just a little bit of extra possessiveness. Hermione did not dare to look up into his eyes in that moment. She was almost afraid of what she might see. They were trying to keep their relationship as carefree and easy as possible. Neither one of them believed there was a future there, but for the moment, they were simply enjoying being young.

She looked up ahead as they walked down the last few steps. The front door opened again to allow even more guests inside. Remembering her duty as a representative of the family, Hermione plastered her warmest, most insincere smile on for the people she loathed. Just as she reached the bulk of the guests, her eyes fell directly on a familiar pair of intense dark brown eyes. Antonin entered the entrance hall with a tall, pretty blonde on his arm.

Shit, Hermione thought. It would be damn near impossible to avoid her ex-boyfriend for the entire night. The slight tightening of Igor's fingers on her waist made her stomach clench. There was no way that night was going to end without some kind of confrontation between the two wizards. As much as she cared about Igor, he was an instigator of the worst kind. He would not give up the opportunity to show Antonin just what he thought of him.

Just when she thought the party and the betrothal ceremony could not get any worse, it did.


August 8, 1998

3:30 am

Trying to control the anger that he was afraid was about to come bursting out of him in bright bursts, Kingsley crossed the office to sit down next to Dean. He was furious that his nephew would be foolish enough to have any kind of contact with Dolohov. The wizard was dangerous and unhinged. It was a terrible combination. Kingsley wanted to come right out and demand to know what he was thinking, but he did not want to frighten the boy. Dean was still navigating his way through their family.

"You said you were with your godfather?" Kingsley asked after taking a deep breath.

Dean simply laughed at the question at first. He was clearly still very drunk. Kingsley tried to choke down the sudden realization of how much Dean reminded him of Tommy in that moment. Of course he had noticed some hints of his brother in his only child, but the drunken laughter brought the Minister back to a number of memories he possessed of his brother that made his heart hurt.

"Maybe I shouldn't admit to the Minister for Magic. Ehh, but I guess I've already been arrested."

"What were you doing?"

"Got a cryptic note with an address and a request to meet. Probably shouldn't have gone to the address, but I was curious." Dean shrugged his shoulders in an almost perfect imitation of his father. "I was almost certain it was him."

Kingsley took several more deep breaths before speaking again. Maybe it was the late hour or maybe it was because the thought of Hermione was so fresh in his mind since his interrupted dream, but he was finding himself to be even more emotional than usual. How had he not realized how much Dean looked like Tommy? He had twenty-six years with his older brother. No one knew him better. How had he been around Dean so many times in the past without realizing who he actually was? It didn't seem conceivable in that moment.

"He's a very dangerous wizard."

Dean's smile dropped off his face completely. His eyes were hard, harder than he had ever seen Tommy's. No longer did his nephew look like a young boy.

"I know dangerous wizards, Uncle. I met plenty of them in the war."

Kingsley closed his tired eyes and sighed. Of course the young man was right. He had seen more horrors than most of the people who had been fortunate enough to spend the entirety of the war safe inside their own homes. At only seventeen years old he had been forced out of his home and on the run. Now at eighteen, he had been through more than one person should ever endure.

He hated that he had been unable to protect his blood. It felt like a betrayal to his brother. If Tommy had been alive, he would have been so disappointed in how little his younger brother did for his son. Kingsley tried to choke down the feeling of failure. It took him a long time to calm himself down to the point where he felt he could speak again. Dean was remarkably patient.

"What did Dolohov want?"

"To give me his house."

Whatever he had been expecting his nephew to say in response to his inquiry, that was certainly not it. Unsure what to say to the admission, Kingsley simply stared at Dean waiting for him to continue. It all made little sense.

"He apologized for being a shit godfather my entire life. Said that he failed my dad, but maybe he could make it up to me somewhat if he made sure I was taken care of now."

"That was very generous of him."

His words were spoken through such a tightly clenched jaw that Kingsley feared his teeth would crumble into dust. He would likely never reach a moment in time when he was able to speak kindly about the Death Eater who had been an unwelcome fixture in his life since he was less than two years old. There was too much history there and none of it was good.

"Mrs. Tonks has been selling his books and other possessions on the side. He's only keeping a little of the money and giving me the rest."

At least the reason why Andromeda was helping made sense. Old friend or not, she would never get involved in some nefarious plan of Dolohov's. She knew how much Dean thought of Ted. She would see it as a some kind of sense of honor to help Dolohov provide what he could for his godson. It truly was a generous gift even if Kingsley was having difficulty imagining Dolohov would ever be completely selfless.

"You said you had a disagreement? What was it about?"

"I told him to stay the hell away from Hermione. He didn't like that."