February 10th

The walk from the bus stop nearest Hogsmeade was a long and freezing journey. Hermione didn't want to risk being spotted by anyone she knew on the way to the village so she kept mostly off the beaten paths. With several inches of snow laying on the ground, she was chilled through before she'd gotten very far. Spending all night on an uncomfortable bus and thus being physically exhausted to begin with certainly wasn't helping matters. As soon as she made the decision to return to her home, she headed straight for a station to purchase a ticket. Perhaps she was foolish, but she didn't want anyone else to be killed because of her. So much for her plans to place her survival above everything else.

Using magic to Apparate directly to her living room was an option she initially considered. At the very least it would save her from expending so much energy in the journey. Before she removed her wand from its hiding place in her pocket and made a decision she couldn't back down from, she reconsidered. Antonin would be on the offensive if he sensed her use her wand. He would likely track her down to the very spot she was in and assume that she was there to cause trouble. There was a very real possibility that no matter how she stepped back into her husband's life she would come to a sticky, painful end, of course, but she decided that calmly walking through her front door had the best option for success.

He wouldn't be expecting her to return on her own. Throwing him off-balance could be useful. She really didn't have the energy to fight her husband. Not only was she still not at complete strength from the bizarre illness she experienced in London, but it had also been months since she had cause to use magic for any extended period of time. Basically, she was rusty. She wouldn't stand a chance against a man who honed his skills on a daily basis with discipline and regular practice.

Yet again she regretted throwing her heavy winter coat in the rubbish bin. It would have come in handy for her slog through the snow and ice. Even with multiple layers of jumpers on, Hermione was freezing. At least if Antonin made the decision to kill her on the spot, she'd most likely end up somewhere quite warm. It was a thought that cheered her more than it should have.

Just as she had done when she was on the bus to Scotland, she used the time walking towards the village to reconsider Draco Malfoy's motives in leaving her with that stack of newspapers. He wasn't a man to do something without a clear reason behind it. Was he trying to anger her to the point that she had to take action? Long years might have been born and died since she was last the idealistic Gryffindor she had been, but there was still a spark inside of her that grew brighter with her ire that there were people, good people, who were suffering because of her very existence.

There was simply no way to save Sarah. Not even she was brave or foolish enough to attempt the darkest of all arts. Necromancy terrified Hermione in ways that nothing else did. It seemed irrational to fear the dead. How could they hurt her when they were long gone? But, the sinking dread that she would be forced to one day explain to Harry why she had chosen the path she had when so many others gave their lives instead terrified her. Even imagining the possibility of an army of those she personally killed rising up from their graves to punish her wasn't as scary. That she deserved. Maybe the undead ripping her apart limb from limb would be a death she could be proud of. Seeing Harry's bright green eyes staring back at her with disappointment and accusation would be so much worse.

No, saving Sarah wasn't a possibility, but saving Lee was. She had influence as Lord Voldemort's favorite. In the past, she'd used it to her advantage many times. Rarely had he ever forced her to do something she didn't wish to do. Denying her choice of husband had been one of the few times he hadn't allowed her to do what she wanted. If she could promise her husband that she would be the perfect, meek, helpless little wife he always longed for, maybe he would allow her to live long enough to beg a favor from their master. Getting Lee out of Azkaban and back to his girls was the absolute least she could do for the man whose life she ruined.

The closer she got to Hogsmeade, the more nervous she became. As much as she thought she knew her husband, Antonin could be unpredictable. He might be willing to allow her to return to their home with little difficulty. After all, he was a man who enjoyed routines and who liked to know exactly where his wife was at all times. She was a powerful ally to have in his quest to eventually overthrow the Dark Lord even if he probably worried that she would one day eclipse his perceived power. In his mind, he was entitled to his position when their master became too incapacitated to continue. It was his turn. He deserved to be the next Dark Lord.

Hermione pulled her hat down as far on her head as possible and positioned her scarf as much over her face as she could. The average citizen wouldn't bother to mess with her if they recognized her. Death Eaters, however, were another story. Beyond just her husband, she also had to worry about the potential of one of her former comrades getting it in their thick skull that she would be a prize to offer to the Dark Lord. Most of them would sell their own grandmothers for the slightest bit of influence.

Students from the castle swarmed over the village. She hadn't been aware that it was Saturday. Dates didn't matter when one was on the run. Having the excited young witches and wizards rushing through the snow with their loud, happy voices helped conceal her presence. No one paid her any attention. The villagers usually kept a sharp eye on the young ones just in case there was trouble.

With each step Hermione took closer and closer to the home she'd shared with Antonin for many years, she grew afraid. Perhaps it was foolish to just waltz in the front door as if nothing had ever happened. All of the privations and hardships she'd faced over the previous nine months would be for nothing if she just gave up. But, if she was completely honest with herself, she was tired of running. She wouldn't last much longer on her own.

Only meters from her home she stopped behind a large snow-covered hedge in front of her neighbors' home. Standing at the front door of her house was her son, happily chatting with and embracing his father. One thing she could never deny about Antonin was his love for their only child. It was one of his few positive qualities. She was surprised to see him away from the castle. He wasn't old enough to join the other students, but assuming the high level his father held in their government, he likely received special privileges. If Antonin Dolohov wanted his first year son to be allowed to visit him on a Hogsmeade Saturday, there was no one who was going to stand in his way.

Her son being home added a complication she wasn't anticipating. At the very least she didn't think that Antonin would strike her down immediately if their child was present. It was an awful reality she lived in if she had to use her son as a human shield, but she would do what was necessary to live to see another day. Antonin would kill himself before he ever harmed their son. She would use that to her advantage if she must.

Just as she worked up the courage to move closer to her home, Hermione was stopped in her tracks. A body appeared out of nowhere at her back to reach out and cover her mouth. She froze, afraid that she'd been discovered by a less-than-friendly Death Eater. There were plenty within the ranks who had it out for her. The momentary fear subsiding, she prepared herself to fight back until the familiar voice whispered in her ear stilled her movements.

"Thought I might find you here, Granger."

Without a warning, Draco Malfoy Disapparated them both away from the area. Where they were headed was anyone's guess. Hermione didn't have the first clue.