Chapter Five

June 20, 2003

Thousands of Potential Adoptive Parents Flood the Ministry

Despite a few vocal critics of the Minister for Magic's plan to boost our waning magical population, in the first week that applications were accepted, thousands of potential parents rushed to the newly formed Department of Magical Adoption. Additional interviews are being set up to weed out the less desirable candidates. Applicants are encouraged to…

One fucking night was all he was asking for and the universe couldn't even grant him that. Or rather, his horny housemates in the next room couldn't grant him his one desire. Antonin had watched as Thorfinn fell in love with the blonde Hufflepuff over the years they lived in cells next to each other. He remembered vividly the moment that Abbott and the Weasley girl were brought into their cellblock in chains following their sham of a trial. Thorfinn took one look at the terrified, silently crying witch across the narrow corridor and never looked back. His heart belonged to Hannah Abbott only minutes after she arrived. It had taken the witch a little bit longer to make her feelings for the massive wizard known. She managed to make it an entire week before it was written all over her pretty face.

Yes, he was jealous. He would admit that, if only to himself. Antonin had been in love before. It was a million years ago in a lifetime he could hardly remember, but she had been lovely. A Ravenclaw Muggle-Born witch he'd taken six years to work up the courage to ask out, there were times he could still see her face when he closed his eyes at night. They wouldn't have made it. Not with the choices he was faced with the moment they left Hogwarts. She'd recognized the danger of the world they were living in. Though she begged and pleaded with him to come with her when she left to start a new life abroad, Antonin had already been seduced by the pretty words of a madman.

And then there was the other one who wrecked him and ruined his ability to love. They'd almost gotten married. He never expected he'd fall for another witch after his Hogwarts sweetheart left him flat. She was an unusual woman who used to be quick to laugh. Whenever thoughts of the too-few blissful days they had together before tragedy ripped them apart assaulted his mind, he forced himself to forget again. Forced himself to push all memories to the back of his mind.

He dealt with his broken heart by pretending it didn't exist. Alcohol, sex with willing witches, and the thrill of creating and using vicious spells filled the hole he ignored. It had not taken long before he became a wizard he did not even recognize. Anna wouldn't know him either if she was ever cursed to cross his path again. She would hate him. Likely she already did. It wasn't as if his crimes were hidden. The other, the one he'd been so close to marrying turned out just as nasty. He was a cruel man. He was a brutal and hard man. His choices made him what he was. There was no room for love anymore even if he had the opportunity.

Listening to the sounds of the couple in the next door happily and gleefully fulfilling the duties required of them by the Ministry's fucking breeding program made him angry in a manner he had not been in in a long time. His capacity for envy and jealousy had lain dormant for many, many years. He could hardly see straight he was so envious of their relationship. Why did they get to be happy about what was happening?

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. Once she realized what the noise was that woke her up, she'd done nothing but stare at the wizard she had been cursed to share a bed and a life with. At least until the moment she was able to produce the tenth fucking child required by their sentence. Even in the dimness he could see the flush in her cheeks and the unshed tears in her eyes. He considered for the first time that maybe he wasn't the only one in that bedroom seething with jealousy. Had she been in love before? She admitted that she wasn't a virgin. Had there been something between her and the Potter boy like so many suspected? Or perhaps with one of the other poor sods condemned to servitude on the same damned island?

Antonin threw the blankets off. It seemed like a sin to leave a warm bed, but he refused to just lie there while the miscreants next door shook their bed with their carnal activities. Hermione didn't move to stop him or even ask what he was doing. He could feel her eyes follow him all the way out the door to their bedroom.

Sounds were louder just outside Thorfinn and Hannah's door. Maybe the walls were better insulated than he initially thought. Antonin brought his fist down on the door repeatedly and then threw the piece of wood open hard enough that it crashed into the wall. The occupants were surprised mid-thrust by his intrusive appearance. Thorfinn was seated with his back against the headboard. Hannah screamed when she saw their unwelcome guest. She removed her hands from the top of the headboard she had been using to assist her to set a pleasurable rhythm on top of her wizard. The embarrassed witch grabbed at the blankets to cover her naked form. Antonin just rolled his eyes. It wasn't as if he hadn't already seen Abbott naked over a hundred times.

"Other people are trying to sleep in this cottage," he declared through gritted teeth. "Kindly refrain from slamming into the wall."

Thorfinn only laughed.

"Guess we got a little carried away. You and Princess should try it. Might make you both a bit easier to live with."

Antonin clenched his fists. One second with a wand and the idiot would never be able to open his mouth again. He didn't want to be reminded that there was a woman in the next room he was expected to bed. Somehow knowing that he was required to do something made him less likely to want to do it. It had been amusing at first to know that she was uncomfortable with the situation. Of all the possibilities in that stone room in Azkaban, she was stuck with him. He knew he shouldn't have winked at her in such a cheeky manner, but it was funny at the time. She hated him so much. Despite Lucius' constant burbling on about how they were just victims of unresolved sexual tension, Antonin hated the girl too. Maybe his feelings would change one day. For the foreseeable future, however, he wasn't going to hold his breath waiting.

Legitimately concerned that he was about to ignore the naked witch still on top of the obnoxious youngster and resort to Muggle fighting tactics, Antonin reached for the doorknob. After one last glare at the couple, he slammed the door and retreated back to his room. Hermione was still awake, clearly waiting for his return to settle back down.

"Thank you," she whispered as he got back in bed. "I'm not sure I could've handled that another moment."

He nodded his head once in acknowledgment. Antonin laid his head back down on his pillow, but sleep refused to come as easily as it had. Based on the lack of heavy breathing from the woman next to him, he assumed she was still awake too. Careful not to jostle the bed, he turned over on his side to face her. Almost at once her eyes fluttered open to meet his.

"I'm so jealous I could scream," she admitted softly.

Her words surprised him. Most people he had known over the years weren't quite so open about their feelings. The advantage of surrounding himself with former Slytherins, he was sure. Admitting any kind of weakness was a dangerous move in the circles he was familiar with. There were always people waiting to take anything one said to use to their advantage. It felt strange to hear her admit exactly what he was feeling.

"So am I."

His reply startled him as well. Why was he being so honest? She was still an enemy. They were not friends. They were not family. They were not even comrades. Before the war ended, they were bitter enemies. He'd tried to kill her at least twice before the final battle. If he'd been anywhere near her and not occupied by the damned werewolf, he would not have hesitated to take his anger out on her for a third time. She was the only person he'd ever struck with his curse that survived. Just because they spent five years peering into the other's cell and they now shared a bed did not mean they weren't still enemies. That fact may never change regardless of how intimate they were forced to become.

"I'm jealous, but I'm also happy that at least they were able to find some kind of happiness in this situation. I feel guilty that I'm jealous, but I can't deny it."

"I understand perfectly."

"I was jealous of you earlier too."

Antonin could feel his eyes widen in confusion. What could she possibly mean by that? He wasn't even sure how to respond. Hermione sighed and rolled over onto her back so she wasn't looking him in the eye any longer. Her gaze was focused entirely on the ceiling.

"You seemed so happy when you were taking a shower. I didn't understand why. I mean, yes, I understand that showers are amazing and I thoroughly enjoyed mine after you left. I just mean that you were able to find some joy in all of this and I couldn't. Rowle and Hannah were able to find joy in each other. All I could focus on was the fact that I'm still not sure that this is a better alternative to dying in prison."

"Trust me, Granger. Any life outside of the walls of that prison is better than a life within. There isn't a life inside. Just meaningless drudgery every single day. I know I've told you this before, but though it was worse, much, much worse with the dementors, there is no life in Azkaban. Freedom is better."

"But we're not free."

"No, not yet, but we could be. And the possibility of freedom will always be better than knowing that you will die in prison."

It seemed so strange talking to the obnoxious girl in such a candid manner. When she was vulnerable and scared, she didn't annoy him as much. Antonin wondered how long she would stay that way. He was surprised to realize that he was starting to miss the feisty girl who argued with him every morning. Surely that said something dreadful about his own character.

"Have you not found anything you can find the faintest hint of joy in?" he asked, internally wondering why he was still talking to her and not even attempting to regain the sleep he was missing out on.

The tiniest hint of a giggle fell out of her mouth at his question. Despite himself, Antonin could feel the hint of a smile begin to form on his lips. It was such an innocent sound.

"I am wearing knickers again. That makes me very happy. I hadn't realized how much I missed them."

He didn't mean to laugh. It felt like such a foreign sound to come out of his mouth, especially when he didn't mean for it to. But he couldn't help it. Such an innocent reason to be happy. Even if it made his mind shift for the briefest of moments to parts of her anatomy better left not thought about, he found himself amused by her answer. Once she got over the initial shock of hearing the terrifying Death Eater of her nightmares laugh, Hermione joined in with him.

"Hot showers and knickers. Two things we can both be happy about."

"Thank you, Antonin."

Hermione granted him one of the first genuine smiles of their entire acquaintance. Antonin cleared his throat before telling the girl it was late and they should try to get some sleep. They each rolled over on their sides. Silence in the cottage allowed them to drift away moments later.

The smell of hot breakfast was what finally encouraged Antonin to get out of bed the next morning. Once he had finally been able to fall asleep, he slept harder than he had in years. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a better night's sleep. Definitely before the war ended. Perhaps even before the first war ended.

He was surprised to find the bed empty. Hermione must have been very careful getting out of bed. He had always been an exceptionally light sleeper. Or perhaps he was just that far gone to the world thanks to the heavenly comfortable bed. How had he managed to live almost twenty years combined in the horrific conditions of Azkaban prison? The mattresses alone were enough to drive a man mad.

Only the promise of another hot meal was enough to entice him to move. He could definitely get used to being fed regularly. Everyone was already waiting for him at the table when he finally emerged fully dressed. Hermione kept her eyes focused on the steaming plate of eggs. The happy couple kept chuckling softly and yawning. Antonin rolled his eyes. No need to guess why there were deep bags under each of their eyes.

All three had already consumed their potions while waiting for his arrival. Not wishing to delay eating any longer, Antonin knocked each of the vials back. They all ate in silence. Hermione and Antonin both tried to ignore the soft, familiar touches that passed between the others. It was one of the more awkward meals he had ever participated in. When the last of the simple meal was scraped off his plate, he dropped his fork and pushed his chair back.

"Would you like to take that walk now, Hermione?"

She was anxious enough to leave that she dropped a fork filled with eggs headed towards her mouth onto her plate. He almost laughed at how quickly she rushed to the front door with him. Clearly he wasn't the only person ready to get away from the other couple. They didn't even seem to notice they were the only ones left at the table.

When he stepped through the front door, Hermione did not follow. She stood in the doorway just staring at the limited activity that was occurring in the little village. He'd forgotten how upset she'd been the day before when she tried to step outside the first time. It was a feeling he could remember. Too much time inside a small space could warp a person's perceptions.

Without giving it much thought, Antonin extended his hand to the witch. Hermione stared at it like she was afraid it would hurt her. As he stood there holding his hand out, he felt like a fool. Just as he sighed and moved to lower it, a small, cold, and slightly clammy hand grasped it. She was terrified. He could feel it in the tremor of her tiny hand.

"We don't have to go very far," he promised in a soft voice he hadn't used in years. Not since he found that damned kitten in his mum's house right after she died. It had been scared and alone. Despite being a big, bad Death Eater, he was able to coax it out of its hiding place with just the tone of his voice. The witch reminded him of the kitten. "We can just see who lives around us and come back."

She seemed satisfied with the assurance that she could go back inside the cottage whenever she wanted. It felt odd to start walking with her hand still clutched in his. He had to slow his steps to keep from outpacing her. Fear was a powerful entity. Likely it would take some time and several trips outside of their cottage before she felt safe in the wide open spaces.

"Rodolphus Lestrange lives in that cottage with… I don't remember her name."

"Luna Lovegood."

"Right. I was at school with her father. Interesting man. Spent seven years in the same dorm with the wizard. Learned a lot about fictitious creatures and conspiracies within the Ministry."

"But Mr. Lovegood was a Ravenclaw."

Antonin resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her clearly confused expression. Naturally she would assume that since he was an evil follower of the Dark Lord, he must have been a member of Salazar Slytherin's House. It was a common misconception. What was the old saying about Slytherin being the only House the produced Dark witches and wizards? It was ridiculous. He had been attracted to knowledge that had been denied to him by more mainstream sources. The opportunity to learn directly from the greatest Dark wizard in creation had been extremely tempting.

"And so was I."

"But you…"

"Yes, Hermione. I was a Ravenclaw and a Death Eater."

She looked as if she didn't know how to process that information. Sometimes he forgot how young she actually was. Her childhood was over too soon. She should've been tucked away in the safety of her common room reading her Arithmancy texts instead of fighting grown witches and wizards to the death in battle. It was a fucked up world they both lived in.

"I apologize. I just assumed."

They walked past Rodolphus' cottage. Antonin wasn't sure what other couple lived inside with them. No doubt they would learn where everyone was located soon enough. The witch hadn't released hold of his hand yet. In fact, the further they walked down the west side of the square of cottages, the tighter her grip seemed to grow.

A redhead stood outside the second cottage with his hands in his trouser pockets simply staring across the grassy common area in the middle of the square. He didn't even seem to hear their approach. Antonin didn't know him. One of those blasted Weasleys certainly. Only steps away from the wizard, Hermione dropped his hand. Startled and even a little disappointed at the loss of the contact, Antonin watched as she closed the distance and threw her arms around the redhead's neck.

He felt like an intruder watching the embrace. The wizard was a few years older than Hermione. Maybe in his thirties. They'd probably exchanged curses before but never got a proper introduction. Antonin stood there with his ear focused on their hushed conversation and his eyes on the surrounding area.

"How are you, Charlie?" she asked, concern clear in her voice.

"Not so great, Hermione, if I can be honest. Been wondering since yesterday if I should just figure out a way to make them throw me back in Azkaban. Seems like a better alternative."

"Charlie…"

"Don't use that tone with me."

Antonin noted the steady rise in the wizard's voice. He didn't care for the volume and how he was staring at his witch. The younger man was angry for reasons he didn't know or care. If he thought for one second that he could speak down to Hermione, he would quickly find out that he was wrong. In an effort to remind the damned Weasley that she wasn't alone, Antonin stepped closer until he was standing directly behind Hermione. He narrowed his eyes at the man over the top of her head.

"You realize they put Angelina, George's Angelina, with Dad? Not only did they keep my parents apart for five years, but they removed Dad, left Mum in prison, and then assigned his son's fiancée to him."

Weasley's rant caught Antonin's attention. He hadn't considered how the prolific Weasley family would be affected by the program. They were known for their fertility, though clearly the matriarch was past her child-bearing days. It had been difficult to keep up the day before when the pairings were announced. Most of the names meant nothing to Antonin. If they weren't close, personal friends from his past or one of the other six people he'd lived on a cellblock with for five years, he hadn't really cared what happened. Forcing a man to live and procreate with his son's fiancée was twisted.

"Ron's with that horrible woman. She's almost old enough to be his mother. Percy seems to have done all right with that Farley witch. I remember her. He could do worse. George is sick. I've never heard of his partner. Some brand-new recruit fresh out of Hogwarts when the war ended. And Bill…"

The Weasley sighed the familiar sigh of a defeated man. Antonin knew it all too well. He'd heard it hundreds of times.

"His cottage is directly across the grass." Charlie pointed across the commons. "How can I ever look at him again, Hermione?"

"None of us are particularly pleased with who we ended up with…"

"His wife, Hermione. His fucking wife. I'm supposed to breed with my brother's wife."

Antonin knew the Ministry was fucked. He just had no idea how much. Splitting apart married couples was bad enough, but forcing the wife to carry her husband's brother's children was unconscionable. He wondered what the bleeding hearts on the mainland would think if they heard this sordid tale. It made him intensely curious just what the rest of wizarding society thought about what was happening. Surely there wasn't one hundred percent approval for this mess.

"You might not like Dolohov after he cursed you, but it's not as if he was married to your sister."

Hermione turned towards the direction they had just come walking from. Without saying another word to either of them, she took off running as fast as her unhealthy, weakened body would allow. Antonin glared at the Weasley one final time before rushing off after her.

Somehow she managed to make it to the cottage before he could. His legs were much longer, but clearly her determination was stronger. She didn't even bother closing the front door to the cottage behind her when she ran in. Thorfinn and Hannah were still seated at the dining table when he entered. The looks of confusion and concern on their faces, respectively, were clear. He waved his hand dismissively at them, letting them know he had it under control without actually speaking.

She wasn't in their bedroom. The door to the bathroom wasn't completely shut either. He approached it carefully. No sounds of running water or crying could be heard. He tapped on the door lightly. There was no answer. Concerned by her strange behavior, Antonin pushed the door open. He could hear her sniffles and rapid breathing, but he couldn't see her.

"Hermione?"

"I just need a minute."

He pulled aside the simple shower curtain to see her sitting in the bathtub with her knees pulled up to her chest. She was taking repeated deep breaths to prevent what he was sure was the potential for a full-blown panic attack.

"Baths tend to work best when you're not wearing any clothes and you fill the bathtub up with water."

Ordinarily she would engage him. Realizing that she was too upset to even roll her eyes bothered Antonin more than he cared to admit. He sat down on the tile floor next to the tub. The least he could do was keep her company until she was calm again.

"Say the word, Hermione, and I'll go back there and strangle Weasley for upsetting you."

Her teary eyes shot up to meet his. Slowly her breathing returned to normal.

"That won't be necessary."

After a few more minutes of silence, she looked him in the eye again.

"You would do that for me?"

"I think it's part of my job. You're the mother of my future children…"

She narrowed her eyes and glared. Antonin wasn't sure what prompted him to say what he did. Truthfully, he was uncomfortable being alone with the witch when she was upset. He felt at a loss of what to do. It was a feeling he hated.

"Don't make jokes about that, Antonin."

"I assure you, I don't find anything amusing about what's happening to us."

"Leave Charlie alone. He has every right to be upset."

"What's going on here, Hermione? Why are you in the bathtub?"

Almost as if she was realizing in that moment how strange her location was, Hermione rose to her feet. She stepped over the side of the tub only to slide down to the floor next to him. Their arms brushed against each other.

"I don't really know. I didn't like being outside and then Charlie… I don't know. It's like seeing him and talking to him made this all seem so much more real. Can you believe what they did to the Weasley family? It's almost as if the Ministry specifically set out to hurt them. Why would they do that? Is it all some sort of sick grudge of someone still within the Ministry? I know that Ron always said that his dad…"

He was used to her prattling on. Five years he'd been forced to listen to it with no way to shut her up. Many of his most disgusting fantasies involved shutting her up when she wouldn't stop talking. None of them he would act upon, of course. They were only suitable for the dark recesses of his mind. Antonin might have been notorious for his use of violence in his information extraction missions. He might have also lost count the number of Muggles he happily cut down with one of his knives. Truthfully, the exact death count at his hands was impossible to figure. Indulging in one of his darker fantasies simply would not do. He wasn't a monster after all.

"… had some enemies inside the Ministry. Many people didn't like the fact that he liked Muggles. That's why he didn't get promoted when…"

Kissing her seemed like a much easier way to shut her up. Certainly less dangerous and less likely to end in pain. He put two fingers under her chin while her mouth was still moving. A gentle press of his thumb on her jaw moved her face towards his. The verbal spew of useless sounds ceased the moment he covered her soft lips with his lips. It surprised them both when she didn't push him away.