Chapter Seventeen

February 12, 2006

Minister Umbridge No Longer Traveling to Address MACUSA

Despite having a long-standing appointment to address the Magical Congress of the United States of America, Minister Dolores Umbridge announced late last night that her trip has been indefinitely postponed. No official reason for the abrupt change to the schedule was offered by the Minister's office. Minister Umbridge was slated to discuss several items with high-ranking members of the United States' magical governing body before making a formal address to MACUSA.

Speculation that the invitation was rescinded due to increasing international backlash regarding the controversial Azkaban Breeding Program is unfounded. The Minister was firm in her stance that…

In the moments following the capture and removal of Charlie Weasley and Katie Bell by the aurors, Antonin knew he needed to get Hermione back to the safety of their cottage. She had to be his priority at all times especially when she was in such a delicate condition. Fearing that the stress of what she witnessed was already putting her in danger, he all but carried her back to their bedroom.

She didn't argue once or even say a single word the entire time. If he wasn't already worried about her, that fact alone would've pushed him over the edge. It wasn't like her to just do as he asked with no pushback. Even though they'd finally reached a place where they were relatively comfortable around each other, there were still fireworks of the more unpleasant and maddening kind when their tempers flared. Once inside their bedroom she even allowed him to lead her over to the bed. She laid down on her side without needing to be prompted.

It was unnerving to Antonin that she hadn't spoken. Most days stuck in their cells in Azkaban he would've sawed his own arm off with a rusty blade just to get her to shut up. With more freedom to walk away from her incessant prattle, he hadn't been as annoyed. He thought it odd that he was so anxious to hear her speak again.

"Are you all right, Hermione?"

She turned her wide eyes to focus on him, but still she didn't say anything. Expecting to see her eyes filled up with tears, he was astonished to find them dry. Hermione had a tendency to cry when she was upset and she'd been upset a lot over the years he'd known her. He knew from Hannah and a couple of others who'd been at school with her at the same time that she could be emotional. Something about crying in a girls' lavatory with a troll and then hiding in empty classrooms all over the castle. All teenage girls seemed to lack the self-control necessary to control their emotions in his experience. And even though they were older, combining the stress of their existence on the island with the elevated levels of hormones thanks to their fertility potions and frequent pregnancies kept most of the ladies in a semi-permanent state of being only seconds from tears. Hermione was no exception.

But when Antonin saw her dry eyes he'd rarely been so frightened. It wasn't like her. Shock could of course make a person behave out of character. He'd witnessed that before. It would eventually wear off.

"Do you need a Healer? They could give you a calming potion."

It seemed strange to suggest a potion to someone who already appeared unnaturally calm, but he didn't know what else to do. He felt at a complete loss. Comforting speeches and reassuring words had never been a talent of his. No one ever accused him of possessing a nurturing nature for valid reasons. He'd never really been exposed to one. His own mother was far from the type to coddle and soothe. She was far too busy with her society parties and charity luncheons to give a single damn about any of her four sons. Where else would he have learned?

"No, Antonin. I just want to be left alone."

Though it went against his nature to give in so easily, he didn't want to argue or upset her any further. He stepped outside the room with promises he wouldn't be far if she needed him. She didn't say a word in reply. It was maddening to feel so helpless, but years of living under the Ministry's thumb taught him how to cope.

"Is she all right?"

The door wasn't even shut before Hannah asked her question in a soft, concerned voice. Antonin's response was only a shake of his head. When Hannah moved towards the door, he blocked it with his body.

"No, Hannah. She wants to be left alone."

"Hannah can come in."

He was tempted not to allow her entrance even with Hermione's permission. While he wasn't likely to admit it out loud, it stung his pride that when Hermione told him she wanted to be left alone, she wasn't entirely truthful. She simply didn't want him. If he'd been some poor fool in love with her he might've been even more offended. Deciding it was best not to make her angry, he stepped aside to allow Hannah to push in. The witch was heavy with child but still able to move quickly when necessary. She was inside the room and slamming the door shut in his face within a couple of seconds.

"Want some tea, mate? I wish I could offer you a glass of something stronger, but I'm fresh out."

Antonin didn't bother hiding his aggravation with Thorfinn's attempt at levity. Rolling his eyes, a childish gesture he continued to blame on his close proximity to Hermione, he crossed the living space to collapse onto the sofa. He wasn't sure he was in the mood for the burly blond's horrible jokes. Sometimes he could be funny, but there was little to laugh about in their current living situation. And the more he thought about it, maybe the only reason he ever used to find him amusing at all was because of the large amounts of alcohol the Death Eaters consumed when they weren't fighting the Order during the last year of the war. He couldn't remember being sober and laughing at one of Thorfinn's usually terrible jokes.

To his relief, Thorfinn didn't join him. The other wizard understood his difficult moods enough to know when it was best to leave him alone. When Thorfinn closed his bedroom door, Antonin released a deep breath. He hated not knowing what to do next. Usually he was the one with the plan. All of the events of the morning were a great shock to the island's inhabitants, but he only cared about one.

No one really believed the silver rings would cause so much damage to anyone who broke the rules of the program. It was thought to be another bluff to keep the prisoners in line. In the first few days, weeks, months of their incarceration on the island they were all too much in shock to dare rock the metaphorical boat. The warnings of being removed from the program were enough of an incentive to not stray from their partners' beds. But the longer they were there and the more disillusioned each person became, the less they believed in the power of the silver rings. There was speculation that they were mostly for show. Perhaps there was a built-in alarm to alert the Ministry if they were intimate with someone they shouldn't be. Someone, he couldn't remember who, suggested that the rings couldn't actually suppress their magic as the aurors claimed when they were slapped on their wrists. With no available wand to test their theory, they had to rely on someone with wandless magic experience to try.

Contrary to what all of the fanciful stories claimed, it wasn't common for a witch or a wizard to be able to use magic without the help of a wand. He used to get frustrated when he'd be in the middle of what promised to be a good book and one of the characters would use wandless magic like it was the easiest thing to do. There was a reason why wands were so important, why the Dark Lord tried so hard to get the Elder Wand, and why a witch or wizard felt naked and helpless without their wand. If it was so easy, why would they need wands? No, wandless magic was almost entirely a fantasy and its overuse in literature was just lazy writing in Antonin's opinion.

But, there were a few people who possessed enough patience and tenacity to study and attempt wandless magic. Most who tried gave up very quickly once they understood how nearly impossible it was. Antonin only knew of one person who'd ever been able to cast an effective spell without their wand more than a couple of times. Corban Yaxley had to be coaxed and pleaded with to try. There was a very real fear on his part that if tried and was somehow successful, there would be dire consequences. He didn't want to go back to Azkaban any more than they did and he wasn't ready to die either. It took some time to finally encourage him enough to try. Nothing happened. At the very least they were assured the magical suppression function on the rings was fully operational.

Even with the confirmation they still didn't believe there would be such physical consequences as they were forced to witness that morning. Antonin almost felt sorry for Bill and Fleur Weasley. Almost. The Ministry probably treated them worse than all of the other couples, though forcing Arthur Weasley to forget his wife in Azkaban to mate with his son's fiancée was pretty fucking twisted. But Bill and Fleur had to have known their actions wouldn't just affect them. Each of them had a partner whose freedom was dependent on them following the rules of the program no matter how ghastly they were. Thinking only of their own pleasure and selfish desires damned two innocent people to a lifetime in Azkaban. He hoped the wounds on their bodies never healed. It was the least they should suffer.

Selfishly he worried how Charlie Weasley's abrupt removal from the island would affect his life. Hermione was an emotional wreck on a good day. Antonin didn't know how he did it, but Weasley was able to calm the witch down more than he ever could. Love, he supposed, had a powerful effect on people. He could hardly remember what that was like. Without Weasley there to calm her down, he was concerned Hermione might break. Most of the time she was only just able to keep herself together. Weasley became her anchor when no one was looking. He should've been jealous that he wasn't able to be that for her after four pregnancies, two stolen babies, and a host of other shit they were forced to endure at Her Minister's pleasure. Maybe he was deep down. It was a heady feeling to be needed.

No sounds came out of his bedroom. If the ladies were speaking, they were doing so in whispers that didn't carry. Tempted to press his ear against the door, Antonin thought better of it. None of them truly had any privacy. It felt wrong to intrude. He could sympathize with Hermione's plight. What must it feel like to know you will never see the person you love again? To spend each night tucked in a warm bed knowing they were shivering in Azkaban? It must be positively maddening.

The front door opened. Only those bastards who got to freely leave the island to go back to the mainland whenever they wished were ever so bold. The other prisoners trapped there at least had enough manners to knock. Preparing himself for an unpleasant visit, Antonin took a deep breath before looking towards the door.

For a man who was once quite infamous for his temper, he was certain the anger building up inside his body had never been so strong. Expecting a Healer there to examine the ladies or an auror to make a nuisance of themselves as they often did, Antonin never expected his visitor to be the fucking Minister for bloody Magic herself. Crossing the threshold with an expression on her face that seemed to say she would rather be anywhere else, he wasn't fooled. Nothing would've prevented her from taking the time to torture the biological parents of her son.

"Get out."

If they met when Antonin still had access to his wand and she wasn't accompanied by at least four or five aurors, she would've fled in terror at the sound of his voice. There was a time when his orders were heeded without question by those who desired to keep living just a little bit longer. Not anymore. Even with his clear limitations, however, he could see the tiniest crack in Umbridge's smile. Yes, she was intelligent enough to know he was still one to fear. The crack was gone in an instant, but he saw it.

"You forget yourself, Dolohov. You have no power here."

One of the aurors assigned to protect the Ministry moved as if he was going to strike Antonin. He prepared himself for the pain. It wouldn't be the first time a prisoner, Antonin included, had been assaulted by a representative of the Ministry. Simply saying the wrong word once earned him a split lip. He didn't care if they hurt him again. He wasn't afraid of them and he wouldn't back down with the horrible woman in his presence.

"Now now, Auror Savage, there's no reason for us to be uncivilized. I merely wished to pay a friendly call."

"Get. Out."

Only a fool would believe a word the wretched bitch had to say. She wasn't there to do anything less than be nasty to her prisoners. Like a disturbed child poking sticks into anthills to stir up and harm the inhabitants within, she had a nefarious purpose. Undeterred by his hostile behavior, Minister Umbridge actually took a seat on the armchair directly across from Antonin. Commanding a contingent of aurors granted her a confidence she didn't deserve.

"A proper host would offer me a cup of tea."

He stared at her, unblinking. If she thought he was going to actually serve her tea as if her visit was the most normal event in the world, she was going to be disappointed. The only beverage he longed to pour down her throat was a cup full of acromantula venom. Supposedly the death was lingering and quite painful. It was what she deserved.

"But of course I know that despite your mother's impeccable breeding and influential family, your father's bloodline is much less so. From my understanding no one has ever been able to prove that he wasn't a Mudblood. Pity."

Antonin held on to the cushion of the sofa with both of his hands. One wrong movement towards the bitch and the aurors would attack. Whether he died or not wasn't that important to him. If he had his choice, he might've taken death years earlier. With his anger about the Weasley couple still fresh in his mind, he couldn't afford to do anything to jeopardize Hermione's future. Umbridge wanted him to be foolish, wanted him to try something that would give her the opportunity to punish Hermione even further. He wouldn't do it. Not if it took every last ounce of self-control he possessed.

"I fear that my Henry has a great deal to overcome with both of his biological parents being mud-blooded criminals. He will have to work extra hard to not become like either of you."

Reminding him of his son was a low tactic that he knew to expect from her. He longed to wrap his hands around her thick neck and squeeze until her frog eyes popped out of her skull. Perhaps there were sympathetic souls amongst the aurors who would let him get a few moments of choking in before taking him down. He didn't think they could all be bad and if he had to work for such a horrible woman every day, he'd be anxious to strangle her too. But, he knew as delightful as it was to fantasize about, he had to be strong. For Hermione. For Henry. For little Charlotte and the baby on the way. For the babies yet to come. He had to remain calm for all of them.

"He looks a great deal like you. Makes me sick. Sometimes when I look on his face and see you and her looking back at me, I think it would be kinder just to drown him in the bathtub."

His heart pounded against his chest. She was trying to get a rise out of him. No matter what she said, he couldn't allow that to happen. Antonin tightened his grip in the cushions, not caring that he was close to ripping them to shreds.

"I never wanted to be a mother. Children are such disgusting, annoying little creatures. All they do is take, take, take. Cry, cry, cry. Oh, the crying that I had to put up with those first few months! It was enough to drive anyone insane. Absolutely infuriating to have to resort to using silencing spells in your own home just to be able to sleep at night."

The image of his son crying himself to sleep alone in his cot threatened to bring even a dangerous murderer like Antonin to tears. It was all so very unfair. He wanted to hold his son in his arms until the child knew he had nothing to fear. Knowing that she would keep going until he offered her some sort of response, he had to play the game.

"I'm not surprised you didn't want to be a mother. You'd have to actually think of someone other than yourself."

Her girlish laughter was ridiculous coming from a woman her age. Did she not understand how foolish she seemed?

"You're right, of course. I am my own most important priority." Umbridge raised her wand to cast a heavy spell around the two of them. When it was clear the aurors weren't able to hear what was being said between them, she stowed her wand back in her pocket. "It is so tiresome trying to have a private conversation with someone who might attempt to kill you if you let your guard down. I wouldn't have to resort to silencing spells if I could trust you to keep your hands to yourself. We could sit alone in a room like two civilized adults and have a civilized conversation."

"Dolores, the first time you and I are alone in a room together will be the last few seconds of your life. Wand or not, doesn't matter."

Anyone with half a brain would be at least somewhat startled by his statement. Perhaps he'd been wrong earlier to think she was intelligent. Her smile proved that she was too arrogant for her own good.

"I suppose that is to be expected, of course. I have put you in a rather awkward position."

"You stole my son. Even putting aside all of the other horrors of your damned breeding program, that fact alone is worth your death."

"I am sorry that you were forced to procreate with that nasty, little girl. Perhaps you would've been happier with another partner. You would've had no reason to fear me 'stealing' your son as you put it if you'd impregnated another poor woman. I only wanted Henry because he was hers and I knew it would hurt her."

There was a history that existed between Hermione and Umbridge that he didn't know the details to. Whenever he found another hateful note from the Minister mailed to his partner, she never would answer his questions about why she was so hated. It was almost an obsession with Umbridge. Or maybe it was. He didn't understand why the Minister wanted to have a private conversation with him at all. Antonin's morning was certainly turning out to be quite different than he expected it to be when he first woke up.

"I chose you to be her partner because I know you almost killed her once years ago. I assumed there would be some lingering resentment and anger about that. Maybe even some fear on her part. I confess I rather like the idea of her being afraid."

Antonin's stomach churned at the woman's words. When Hermione was up to it, he would demand she tell him everything about the past. He didn't appreciate feeling so ignorant and unprepared.

"I made sure that your cells were across from each other years ago. I hoped that seeing your face every day would remind her of the pain she was in when she and her stupid little friends broke into the Department of Mysteries. And then when my spy on your cellblock told me all about how you two hated each other and fought, I knew you were the right partner for her. Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't killed her by now. I was sort of hoping you would, but I guess it is more amusing to prolong her misery."

"What is this about, Dolores? You're an important woman. Too important to waste any time speaking to a lowly convict like me. Why don't you just get to the reason you're really here?"

Startled for a moment that he would dare to be so bold, Umbridge removed the simpering grin from her face and got right down to business. The transformation in her bearing was remarkable. She almost passed for a suitable Minister.

"I'm sure you're well aware of the horrible things that brat has done to me in the past. No doubt she laughs about it whenever she has the chance."

He nodded though he was still in the dark. If he said he didn't, she would either call him a liar or she would tell him some version of her truth that wasn't the truth. He would wait for Hermione to tell him. Despite their past, he trusted her a hell of a lot more than he did Dolores Umbridge.

"So you can understand why I want her to suffer. The humiliation and the indignities I was put through… well, it doesn't bear repeating. I find myself in need of someone I can trust, Mr. Dolohov. Someone who is able to get closer to her than anyone else. You have the power to make her more miserable than anyone else on this island."

"You're asking me to hurt Hermione? Why? What's in it for me? If something happens to her, I'm thrown back in Azkaban. She's carrying my child right now."

"There are many ways to cause pain, Mr. Dolohov. Some of them could even help you complete the terms of the program."

His breakfast threatened to make a reappearance. Was the woman insane enough to ask him to…? He couldn't even complete the thought inside his head. It was too awful. Even former Death Eaters had standards and a moral code.

"And in return for making Granger's life even more miserable than it already is, I'm prepared to offer you my gratitude."

"Is that all? What can that possibly get me here?"

"Oh, many things actually. I will be glad to unfreeze your old Gringotts vault and begin making regular deposits into it for your future outside of this island. It could be quite a large amount by the time this is over."

"I don't need money and I think you and I both know that this program isn't designed to actually be completed. We're being set up to fail."

The sly grin that slowly crept onto her face was the confirmation he needed to know his suspicions had been right all along. It was hopeless to keep trying to be free. They would never make it. Even if somehow there was a miracle and one of the couples was able to provide the required number of healthy babies to the Ministry, they weren't going to be forgiven their crimes and released back into the world. Part of him knew that all along. They were just trading life imprisonment in a tiny cell in Azkaban for another life imprisonment on the island.

"If you are loyal to me, Mr. Dolohov, you may be able to get off of the island one day. Maybe even very soon. Wouldn't you like that?"

"Of course I would. I'd be a fool to want to live here forever."

"Then your decision should be easy. But, I'm also prepared to offer some other incentives. Would you like the fidelity spell removed from your rings? Is there some other witch on the island you'd like to dally with from time to time?"

He made a face without meaning to when she made the suggestion. There wasn't a single witch on the island he wanted to be with. It was difficult enough forcing himself to get used to Hermione. Umbridge's smirk was worrisome.

"Or maybe there's a pretty Healer who pops by the cottage every now and then that you'd prefer? One with blonde hair who thinks she's so clever and sneaky about having your next child promised to her and her husband?"

The room was too hot. Antonin couldn't breathe. It was everything he could do to remain calm. All of his fears the Penelope was in danger thanks to the work she did for whatever sort of Resistance existed on the mainland were real. She hadn't been as careful as she thought she'd been. Would he have to accept Umbridge's horrible demands to keep her safe? He was damned no matter what he chose to do. If he could somehow just get a message to Penelope, maybe she could run. She was a part of a network she claimed. They could get her out to another country. He'd read in the newspaper that there were countries that hated the Azkaban Breeding Program. Surely one of them would welcome her to stay.

"It might surprise you to know that I have spies everywhere, Mr. Dolohov. I know everything that happens on this island. Every single disgusting thing."

She rose to her feet, but didn't immediately remove the silencing charm that separated them from the aurors.

"I've given you a lot to think about, Mr. Dolohov. I trust that you will, but I must confess that I'm very excited about the prospect of working with you. I have several wonderful ideas of how we can make that little bitch suffer even more than she already is. Removing Charlie Weasley was only the first. I'm sure you'll appreciate what else I have planned."

All of his unwelcome visitors exited the cottage moments later. Once the front door slammed shut, Antonin couldn't stay seated. Ignoring the demands that he leave from Hermione and the questions from Hannah of what was going on, he rushed to the bathroom. He almost didn't make it in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the bowl of the toilet.

Yes, he did have a lot to think about and yet again that morning, he didn't know what he was going to do.