Author's Note: Thanks so much for all of your encouragement in the last couple of chapters. When you get closer to the end of a story, writing gets sooooo much harder. The encouraging and kind reviews have been vital to keep me going. After this chapter, I suspect there will be three(!) chapters left.


Chapter Twenty-Three

April 11, 2007

Political Prisoners Released From Azkaban

Dozens of political prisoners were released from Azkaban Prison yesterday to the surprise of the guards and prisoners alike. Early in the morning before the guards changed shifts, a large group of Ministry of Magic officials including several esteemed members of the Wizengamot arrived at the fortress to demand the release of those believed to have been unjustly incarcerated with orders from the Wizengamot. An increase of arrests for crimes more political in nature than criminal has filled the prison to capacity.

Amongst the prisoners granted release were the few remaining fighters from the Battle of Hogwarts where You-Know-Who was finally defeated. Ones suspected of being former Death Eaters will remain in Azkaban for the present. Included in the prisoners released were two members of the notorious Weasley family. Molly Weasley and her only daughter Ginevra were free to leave to return home. When asked for an exclusive interview with the Daily Prophet, Mrs. Weasley refused.

Requests for comment from Minister for Magic Dolores Umbridge were returned unopened. During this time of upheaval, one must wonder where she…


In the first moments after Antonin and Charlie entered the cottage, he didn't want to believe what he was seeing. As Charlie ran from room to room searching for somewhere they might be hiding, he knew it would be in vain. When they were pulled out, they left the women alone with the Healer. Even the Healer was nowhere to be found. Could he have gone out the front door when they weren't looking? It hardly seemed possible. Antonin tried to keep sight of the cottage at all times while they waited with the other wizards.

Once he knew there was no way Hermione or Penelope could be anywhere inside the cottage, he grabbed Charlie's arm to pull him back outside with him. They would get answers. Their very lives were wrapped up too much with the women to just let their sudden disappearance go without some sort of explanation. And it wasn't just the women they were concerned about. Both of them had their babies to worry about too.

Every other cottage in the village was similarly affected by whatever it was that was happening. Each wizard dealt with the unpleasant surprise in their own individual way, but it was clear that they were all worried and upset. Some more than others.

Thorfinn rushed out of his cottage with his fair skin a deeply troubling shade of red. The deep feelings he had for Hannah only increased over time. Afraid that his friend was about to do something foolish, Antonin took off after him at a run. He was steps behind him. When Antonin reached for the back of the man's cloak, the heavy fabric slipped through his fingers.

"Where is she?! Where's Hannah?"

The auror he accosted was one of the few good ones they had on the island. Usually fair and never cruel, Auror Proudfoot seemed just as confused as everyone else. He tried to sputter out a question, but his air was cut off by the burly blond's hands closing around his throat. Antonin tried to pull his friend off the auror again. When Thorfinn was worked up into a rage, he couldn't think properly. He would end up doing something terrible if they weren't able to calm him down or at least get him away from the auror. A heavy elbow straight to Antonin's stomach sent him flying several feet away to the ground. Doubled over in pain, he tried to get back up. Charlie's firm hand kept him rooted on the ground.

Later he would have to thank Weasley for saving his life. If he'd run back over to his friend's aid, he would've no doubt been caught in the ensuing crossfire of spells and curses. Thorfinn was hit with at least three stunners from other aurors. Each of them bounced off his back like nothing more than a tickling charm cast by a first year. There had always been rumors that the Rowles carried berserker blood in their veins. Every time he'd stood next to his friend in a battle only to watch the man's fury make him both powerful and careless, he knew it had to be more than just a rumor. Overcome with anger and fear for Hannah, he was a terrifying monster. His hands continued to squeeze Proudfoot's throat. Proudfoot would be dead if they couldn't get his attacker off of him.

"Avada kedavra!"

Auror Savage never failed to live up to his name. There was a streak of cruelty in him that made him too dangerous for a job working with prisoners. It wasn't the first time he'd attacked a prisoner with brute force, but it was the first time he'd killed one.

Thorfinn's lifeless body fell to the grass with a loud thud. No one on the island dared to speak. It had been almost ten years since any of them had seen that spell performed. Antonin hoped that he would be able to go the rest of his life without seeing it again. His friend's bright blue eyes stared upwards to the night sky.

"The next person to move will get the same."

There was nothing to doubt in Savage's words. His expression was serious and thunderous. All of the wizards stayed completely still. Even if they wanted to avenge Thorfinn's murder, which Antonin certainly did, they were helpless. What could they do without magic against the trained and armed aurors? They'd all end up next to Thorfinn if they tried.

"Now will someone please explain to me what the bloody hell that was about? What did he mean 'where's Hannah'?"

Savage directed his question at Antonin. During the years Thorfinn and Hannah lived in the same cottage with him, Savage had been there many times to escort the Healers. Charlie extended Antonin a hand to help him back to his feet before he answered.

"The women are gone. He wanted to know where Hannah was taken."

Based on the furrowing of his brow and the scowl on his face, Auror Savage knew nothing about any of the women on the island being missing. He barked out a few questions to his fellow aurors. They all shrugged their shoulders. No one else seemed to know either. Antonin grew ever more anxious. If they didn't know where the witches were, the situation they could be in seemed all the more dire.

"I don't want a single one of you to move while we search the cottages. Is that understood?"

Each of the thirty remaining men nodded their heads. Savage turned to one of the milder aurors. Dawlish, Antonin thought his name was.

"Keep an eye on them. Make sure they don't move, John."

Dawlish nodded once. The rest of the aurors followed Savage's lead to head towards the cottages. Every second that ticked by made Antonin more nervous. Were the women taken back to Azkaban? He didn't understand why they would be. No one, as far as he was aware, had done anything to break the rules of the program. Certainly not badly enough that they were all going to be punished.

Just as he was sure his mind couldn't get any more suspicious, he watched Auror Dawlish catch Kingsley Shacklebolt's eye. The men were able to have a conversation just through silent expressions. Perhaps it was something they'd developed years earlier when they worked as aurors together. It was strange. Antonin hated not having all of the answers.

In one swift motion, Dawlish cast a spell around the entire group of wizards. Wrapping them in a protective bubble, his purpose soon became clear. At least half of the aurors following Savage to the cottages cast stunners into the unsuspecting backs of their fellow aurors. Most met their mark, but a handful were quick enough to block the spell. Spells bounced off of the shield surrounding the unarmed men.

The battle, if it could even be called that, was over in just a few minutes. No one, it seemed, would be permanently injured. Once the aurors that were loyal to Savage were disarmed and tightly bound, the aurors that were on Dawlish's side approached the startled wizards.

"John, what is happening?"

Shacklebolt practically shouted his question to his old friend. While Antonin didn't know the man's personal feelings towards the witch he was assigned to for the program, he was one of those honorable Gryffindors who no doubt felt it was his duty to keep her protected no matter what. Echoes of the same question repeated from enough other wizards that Dawlish had to settle them all down with a cannon shot to the sky from his wand.

"I understand that this has been a frustrating night, but please bear with me."

"Frustrating" hardly seemed the right word for everything that had happened in such a short time. One of Antonin's best friends lay dead at his feet. Thirty-one witches, most if not all, pregnant and missing. The Healers were responsible in some way and the aurors were fighting against each other. If he didn't get answers soon, he would be tempted to try to choke the answer out of the aurors too.

"Your witches have all been rescued. They should be safely inside Bulgaria by now."

If they were indeed "rescued", why did Antonin still feel a knot in his stomach like something was very wrong? He'd learned to always trust his instincts. Rarely did they steer him wrong. Something was not right. How could they have been so easily removed from the island? Why weren't the wizards taken at the same time? He suspected all was not as it seemed.

"Tony dear, you worry too much. You always worry too much."

He shook his head to dislodge her voice from within. It was hardly the time to listen to ghosts from his past. Usually he was better about keeping all thoughts of her tamped down and shoved to the darkest corners of his mind. It was easier to forget her, to pretend she'd never existed. Why would she plague him now?

Someone was fucking with them all. Was it that wretched cunt Umbridge again? He wouldn't put anything past her. She could be testing them all, playing with them like a cat plays with its prey. She'd always loved cats more than she loved people. It wasn't unreasonable to think Umbridge was behind it all playing a sick, twisted game just to inflict more misery on them all.

"We couldn't get you all out at the same time because we needed a distraction. As you can see…" Dawlish gestured to the stunned aurors on the ground. "…not everyone was in on the plan. We needed them occupied while the Healers got the witches out. It needed to look like a routine exam to keep them from being suspicious and mucking it all up. That and it was thought there might be some well-meaning interference from you wizards keeping your witches from taking the portkey."

"Damn right there would've been. My Luna just had a baby two days ago. She shouldn't be putting her body through that stress."

"And Alecto is pregnant again. She shouldn't be using a portkey either. What about the baby?"

Dawlish lifted his hands to quiet the questions. There was more muttering amongst the wizards. Most of them had the same fears. Portkeys were dangerous for pregnant women. If they really were in Bulgaria like the auror claimed, an international portkey was even worse. Didn't these imbeciles understand that? Antonin would've done whatever was necessary to keep Hermione and Penelope from using one in their condition. Had they doomed all of their babies in an attempt to save the mothers?

"Once it's safe to do so, we will be transporting you to Bulgaria as well. Please be patient."

Begging that group of worried wizards to remain calm and be patient was entirely too much to ask. Antonin was exhausted of feeling so helpless all of the time. If he was indeed about to be "rescued" from the island, a fate he still couldn't allow himself to trust, he would do whatever was necessary to make certain he never felt that way again. He'd made a promise to himself that Umbridge was the last person he would ever murder, but if he had to, he would kill more.

"Do you really think the women are safe? Or is this just something else to punish us and make us more miserable?"

As much as he tried not to, the longer Antonin was around Charlie, the more respect he had for the man. The two men would never be friends. Such a thing was impossible. Charlie would never forgive Antonin for his part in the brutal murder of his uncles nor did Antonin expect him to. The crimes he'd committed in his past were inexcusable. An avada straight to his heart should've been his punishment decades earlier. If the Ministry of Magic hadn't been so scared of offending its citizens with the death penalty, their world would've been much safer. Likely the Dark Lord would've never been able to rise to his full power if all of his most loyal followers had been executed after the first war. No one would've missed any of them.

"I don't know, Weasley. Rescue sounds too good to be true."

"You're right. It does. I'm sorry about your friend. That was…"

Charlie sighed, unable to form the appropriate words because they simply didn't exist. What happened to Thorfinn shouldn't have happened. Antonin appreciated his attempt and thanked him silently with a nod. It was hardly the first time he'd lost a close friend because of violence and sheer stupidity, but it was never easy. Later when he could see for himself that the women were safe he could process his loss. Until that moment, he would soldier on as was expected of him. As much as he cared about Thorfinn and truly valued his friendship, he never could control himself when he really needed to. He'd almost died in battle a hundred times simply because he wasn't careful.

Antonin turned his attention back towards the aurors. Some of the stunned ones began to come back into consciousness but their magical bounds kept them on the ground. The inmates were still protected by Dawlish's impressive shield charm. Dawlish seemed to be the one in charge, but only just. The entire operation didn't exactly inspire much confidence. How could they believe the women really were in Bulgaria? It all reeked of incompetence.

"What do you think we're waiting for, Antonin? Why are we still here?"

"I don't know. Maybe they never expected to get this far and didn't plan this far ahead."

"If something happened to Luna, I don't know what I'll do."

Desperation dripped off each word Rodolphus spoke. He'd allowed himself to get too attached to his assigned witch. Antonin fought the urge to roll his eyes, once more annoyed that Hermione's childish habit rubbed off on him due to their close proximity. Many times over the four years of the program he envied the men who were able to find love with their partners. Now he pitied them. Thorfinn was dead and Rodolphus was half-insane because they couldn't control their emotions.

It seemed an eternity before there was any movement from the assembled aurors who were supposed to be their rescuers. Antonin would believe them only once they were off the island. A pop of Apparition caught everyone's attention. All eyes turned to see a wizard that at least to Antonin, was a complete stranger. He spoke in a whisper to the aurors. John Dawlish's shoulders visibly fell with relief at whatever the messenger had to say. Whether that instilled any sense of hope into Antonin remained to be seen. He still expected an attack. Maybe they'd all end up laying next to Thorfinn or worse, back inside Azkaban.

The protective shield surrounding the inmates was brought down. Antonin looked quickly around him for anything he might be able to use as a weapon. Aurors began moving through the group pushing bits of rubbish into the hands of some of the men. Recognizing at once, even without the benefit of explanation from Dawlish moments later, a portkey, Antonin didn't immediately grab on. They claimed it would take them to Bulgaria. How could he trust that? It would be too late if they were all wrong. They could all end up somewhere worse.

In the end, Antonin decided that the chances of ending up somewhere worse were small. What could possibly be any worse than the island? The individual portkeys were soon activated by the aurors, taking groups of three and four wizards away at a time.

Antonin didn't recognize where he landed. The rush of magic and the general discomfort of using a portkey took a moment to recover from. He suspected the room was a hospital ward just by the smell. Did all hospitals smell the same? He hadn't been in a hospital since the night his entire world changed. Usually he did all he could to avoid them, even when he really needed one. Too many unpleasant memories.

"Tony dear, you worry too much. Everything is fine."

"Just humor me, please, love?"

He shook his head again. Twice in one night? He'd gone years between memories. What was making him lose such a tight hold on the parts of his life he could usually forget? He would have to blame Umbridge for it. Everything that went wrong in his life could be traced back to her. The world would become a better place the day she was removed from it. Someone should've done them all a favor years ago. How much misery could've been spared countless innocent people?

"Where are the witches?"

Rodolphus didn't waste a moment before demanding answers from a group of strangers on the other side of the room. One wizard stepped forward out of the group, unafraid of the harsh glares and frantic tones coming from the new arrivals. Antonin thought he looked familiar, but he couldn't recall where he'd seen his face before until he heard some of the younger wizards whisper around him that it was Viktor Krum. He'd seen the world-famous Quidditch player many times in the newspaper in fast-moving action shots. Rarely did they focus on his face for very long. Torn between relief that this was really a rescue and anger that the stupid wizard was careless enough to get Penelope arrested, Antonin clenched his fists to keep from doing something reckless.

"Every single one of your witches is safe."

"Where are they?"

Viktor smiled at Rodolphus. He wasn't afraid and was more like a gracious host welcoming them all to his home. His demeanor helped to calm the mood of the room. If he didn't start giving them concrete answers, however, that was likely to change.

"Each of them have been examined by a Healer and they should be on their way to their rooms. I promise that you will be able to see them soon."

Hearing that they had all been through an exam bothered Antonin. Was it because there were complications when they travelled via portkey? Who was the idiot that decided that would be an appropriate way to move thirty-one witches across such a far distance? He wouldn't rest until he saw with his own eyes that both Hermione and Penelope were okay.

"My wife is pregnant, Krum. I want to see her immediately."

Marcus Flint pushed to the front to approach Viktor. There was determination on his face that he would not be denied. Antonin admired his pluck. Though they didn't have a love marriage in the most traditional sense of the way, he knew that Penelope and Marcus loved each other dearly. They were best friends. And because he had no personal claim on the woman, he was also relieved to know that she had someone who was desperate to find out if she was all right.

"My witch is pregnant too."

"So is mine."

Wizards around the room expressed their desire to see their partners at once. When tensions appeared to be growing higher, another wizard Antonin didn't know stepped out from behind Viktor to address the group. He was a man who exuded power and confidence. No one was in a rush to go up against him. He didn't even need to raise his voice to be heard by all.

"Gentleman, my name is Alexei Levski. Welcome to Bulgaria. I apologize for taking away your women without any explanation. We only had a very short period of time we could risk it. I understand your concerns about them using a portkey in their conditions, but I would like to reassure you that all are doing fine."

"And our babies?"

Minister Levski sighed. It was evident that he knew he was going to have to explain more to satisfy their curiosities. To prevent a potential riot, he explained about the illegal potions most of the women had been taking for months. All over the hospital ward the wizards settled down as the reality of their situation began to make sense. Levski explained how all of the witches had been examined. Despite the toll that the program had taken on their bodies, they were all in good health.

There was a small amount of disappointment in Antonin when he understood Hermione wasn't pregnant with another one of their children, but mostly he felt relief. He didn't like the world she'd brought their other three babies into. Even with their rescue from the island he didn't hold out much hope that it would get any better. Their lives were already complicated enough with the children they had. Adding another one would've been exponentially worse. Of course he wasn't the only one who felt that relief whether or not the wizards around him expressed it.

"We have an excellent team of Healers who would like to examine each of you as well. This program…" Levski spoke the word as if it was poison. "…was disgusting and cruel. We want to make certain that you wizards are as healthy as the witches. It's the least we can do."

"What's happened with the Ministry?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep voice carried easily. When he asked his question, Minister Levski met his eye and shook his head.

"There is much going on outside in the world that we will be glad to discuss, but I must beg your patience. When it is more certain, we will explain. You are all welcome to stay here as long as is necessary."

He might not have said the words, but Antonin knew the Minister wasn't about to let any of them leave his hospital until he was ready. Whether or not they traded one prison for another remained to be seen. Offering no further explanations, the Minister left the room. Each man had their name called out by a Healer. Knowing there was no use in fighting, Antonin followed his Healer to an exam room without complaint.

The Healer was much friendlier than any that he'd known on the island. Besides Penelope, of course. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be treated as a human being. When she referred to him as 'Mr. Dolohov' even he had to crack a smile. He couldn't remember the last time anyone called him 'Mister'. Perhaps it was a small thing, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

"I'm pleased to see that at least you are in good health despite what your Ministry put you through."

Antonin moved when he was told, did what he was asked, answered any question he was asked. Experience on the island taught him that life was much smoother if he just complied. Imagining his younger self, the one who hadn't gone through the horrors of Azkaban for fifteen years before breaking out and then being put back in, being asked to submit so completely almost made him laugh. How the years had changed him.

Only when a wizard he hadn't seen in a very long time entered the exam room did he get nervous. Healer Rutherford Poke had been a well-respected Healer at St. Mungo's for countless years. Most knew him as one of the best Heads of the hospital that St. Mungo's had ever known. When he read in the Daily Prophet several months earlier that Healer Poke had been removed from his position, Antonin felt sorry for the man. He should've been enjoying the last years of his career, not being forced out in near disgrace because of a disagreement in policies. Knowing the reason why he was removed as Head, Antonin wasn't surprised in the slightest to see him as part of their rescue delegation.

"Good evening, Mr. Dolohov. It's been quite a few years since we last were in an examination room together, hasn't it?"

Antonin was cursed. That was the only explanation for Rutherford Poke's reappearance in his life at that exact moment. Yes, it had been a number of years and he would've been happier to go on even longer between visits. Not wishing to bring up any further reminders of that night, he just nodded, but said nothing else.

"At least I'm not here to prod you and poke you this time."

The Healer lifted an eyebrow at his terrible joke. Antonin almost had to smile. How many years had he been telling a variation of the same one? But he supposed that if one were to be named 'Poke' and decide to become a Healer, the jokes basically wrote themselves. She had gotten a chuckle out of his apology that he would have to poke around to find out what the trouble was. There was a time that she enjoyed dumb jokes, the cornier the better. He wondered if she still laughed at jokes like that, if she laughed at all. Somehow he doubted it.

"I'm just here to remove those silver rings on your wrists. Would you like that?"

There was no hesitation as Antonin held his arms out. Suppressing a wizard's or witch's magic was barbarous. Healer Poke chuckled at his eagerness.

"I'm very sorry this happened to you, son. Maybe if I'd been able to give you better news all those years ago, your life could've been much different."

"You remember me?"

A sad smile crossed Healer Poke's face.

"I do. Both of you. There are cases that never leave you in this profession. Unfortunately, most of them are the sad ones. It's never easy giving that sort of bad news, to feel like you played some part in ruining your patient's future."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I know that. I really do. In my head, but Healing isn't just about the knowledge in your head."

Antonin didn't want to think of the past. Not when he had the opportunity stretching ahead of him for a potential future. What was the point in dwelling on what couldn't be changed? Yes, if the baby hadn't died and he'd gotten married, his life would've been much different. Would they have been happy? He couldn't be certain. Maybe they would have. Maybe they wouldn't. There was no definitive way to know. Living in the past and the what-ifs only drove a person mad. He didn't need any additional help with that. Some would say he was already there.

"Now, I'm sorry to report that this will feel quite strange to you."

An overpowering wave of nausea rolled over Antonin the second the silver rings were taken from his wrists. The sudden reemergence of his magic made him dizzy and before he could stop himself, he was sick all over the floor. Embarrassed at his lack of control, he apologized to both Healers.

"Nothing to apologize for, Mr. Dolohov. Now, I'm prescribing lots of rest. Take this potion and go to bed. Sleep until your body can sleep no more."

Healer Poke shook Antonin's hand before he left the room. What was usually such a simple gesture meant much more. He couldn't remember the last time someone who wasn't imprisoned on the island treated him like an equal. It would take some getting used to.

A kind witch who worked at the hospital offered to escort him to his room, but he told her it wasn't necessary. Once she pointed him in the right direction, he felt confident he could find it on his own. He needed just a few minutes to himself to think.

Several of the other wizards were out in the corridor searching for their own room. When he noticed a couple of them turn down another corridor, he grew curious. Their destination quickly became clear. Each door on the long corridor was closed, but a last name and first initial were written on the outside. He started down looking at each door before stopping at the one he wanted to enter least of all: Abbott, H.

Hannah deserved to know what happened to Thorfinn from someone who cared about her. Years on the same cellblock and then more in the same cottage meant he thought of the young witch almost like a little sister. He'd always wanted one, but his mother only ever gave him little brothers. They were more trouble than they were worth in his opinion. As he reached for the doorknob, a gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Don't, Dolohov. We'll tell her. You don't have to."

Eddie Macmillan had always been serious and a bit pompous for a Hufflepuff, but Antonin knew he had a kind heart and knew how much he cared about Hannah. The other third of their school trio, Justin Finch-Fletchley, wiped at his red eyes. It was clear that neither of them wanted to be there. Only their sense of loyalty and the love they had for their dearest friend kept them from walking away to let another break her heart.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, thank you."

He watched the two wizards disappear into the hospital room. Wishing to be anywhere else, but somehow unable to make his feet move, he waited until he heard the screams from within. Hannah's heart-wrenching sobs echoed down the corridor. Knowing there was nothing else he could do, he turned back around to go to his own room.

Heads poked out of rooms at the sound of her cries. None of the women would've known what happened to Thorfinn or why one of their own was so upset. Antonin wanted nothing more than to gulp the vial of potion in his pocket and disappear into a dreamless sleep. If anyone stopped to ask him questions, he feared he wouldn't be able to answer them without losing his patience or worse.

Towards the end of the corridor, a familiar blonde head peeked out of her room. Penelope was whole to Antonin's relief. Seeming only to be confused, she'd made it through the ordeal that night just fine. He clenched his fists again. All he wanted to do was reach out for her, hold her, comfort her, and find some comfort with her, but he knew he couldn't. It wasn't right. A woman like her deserved much better than a damaged man like him.

"Antonin…"

He kept walking.