March 9th

Hermione isolated herself in her bedroom for the rest of the day after her encounter with Lizzie and for much of the next as well. None of the members of the Jordan family sought her out. That was what she did. They were more used to her staying cooped up than they were with her coming out and at least trying to socialize with them or share some small part of their day. A gentle knock at her door three times a day to tell her there was a plate of food sitting outside in the corridor was all the interaction she needed.

Lizzie's remark about Antonin seeming to be more sad than scary bothered her tremendously. Another had only recently made a similar statement about the man she was ordered to marry. Thorfinn at least had some semblance of an agenda to tell her that lie. What was Lizzie Jordan's motivation? Why would she need to make up a story about the night they were supposedly visited? It didn't make any sense. Antonin was a brutal man who cared nothing about human life. There was nothing he wouldn't do, no low he wouldn't stoop to, if it meant he could get what he wanted.

From the moment she arrived in the village, she had the feeling that there was a great deal that was being kept from her. Secrets were part and parcel of being amidst the Resistance. She understood that, but this was something more. There was no way she would have been able to survive and rise so high in the ranks of the Death Eaters without having an excellent grasp on people. She could just look at a person and know when they were lying. It was a skill that had come in quite handy during countless hours of torture. She was an effective operative in Intelligence because she knew when there was more information to uncover and crucio out of an enemy.

By late afternoon, long after the midday meal was over, Hermione couldn't bear to sit in her room another moment longer without some answers. She dressed warmly before rushing through the house to the back garden. If anyone was surprised to see her emerge from her hiding place, she didn't linger long enough to gauge their reactions. Until her feet were standing in front of the door to Lee's shed, she kept moving.

A friendly voice called out to her to enter when she knocked. She might have been on a mission she was determined she would not be deterred from, but she hadn't lost her sense of manners or propriety. Satisfied that she would not be interrupting a private conversation with someone she would rather not see, Hermione opened the door to the space where Lee spent a great deal of his time.

During the last Great Wizarding War, he operated a rebel program on the wireless. Extremely dangerous, it was an act that put him on the very worst of the lists of enemies to seek out and eradicate. The very worst crime any dissident could commit was the dissemination of information contrary to the policies of the ruling regime. Educating the masses was an act of war. Now that he was convinced that something big was coming in their world again, he was ready to come out of retirement. While Xenophilius and Luna Lovegood kept their magical printing presses always working and on the move to print out the Resistance's underground newspaper, Lee did what he could to take over the magical wireless sets.

Hermione hadn't heard a report from him yet. Truthfully, she didn't want to know what was going on out in the rest of the world. She struggled enough to keep focus on what was happening to her in the moment. Worrying about how everyone else was faring was too much. Like the proverbial ostrich with its head in the sand, she preferred to keep as ignorant of current affairs as it was possible to be.

"Hello, Hermione. I wasn't expecting you. Thought you might be one of the girls."

Lee gestured to an empty chair next to his at a work table in the corner. Pieces of his wireless set were strewn about and his hands were covered in what looked like grease. Part of the issue they were always coming up against in the Resistance was the lack of state of the art technology. They had to work with what they had. This frequently translated to broken machinery that he had to fix with a combination of magic and good old fashioned Muggle ingenuity.

She sat next to the wizard suddenly unsure of how she was going to proceed with their discussion. There were a number of questions that she still possessed that had never been given a satisfactory answer. When she first arrived and broached the topic of Antonin with Lee, he had been very tight-lipped, even a bit dismissive of the night they were visited. She wasn't sure what to make of his reticence. It was most unlike the gregarious man who she remembered as being perhaps a little too talkative when they were much younger. She didn't appreciate the fact that he was clearly keeping the entire truth from her.

There had been some explanation, of course. When she first arrived to discover Sarah wasn't dead and Lee wasn't in Azkaban, she had been quite confused. Though never fully explaining Draco's motives for making it seem like they were attacked and splintered, they managed to give just enough of an explanation of the events that she was satisfied for the moment. After all, she had been building up in her mind what she would likely find when she finally approached the destination she had been instructed to so much that when she found the Jordan family whole and unharmed, she'd been unable to fully process what she was seeing.

That time was over. She had had enough time to think over the events and explanations to determine what pieces of the puzzle she was still lacking. As much as she appreciated their continued hospitality, if she didn't get some sort of explanation soon, she feared she would go mad. Or, madder. She knew she wasn't always playing Quidditch with a full pitch.

"What happened the night Antonin came to your home?"

Lee was startled enough by the abrupt inquiry that he almost dropped his wand. Flustered, he cleared his throat and started to say something in response. Experience taught Hermione that whatever he was about to say was going to be a lie. The set of his shoulders and the glassiness of his eyes proved that he wasn't going to be truthful. Before a single word could come out of his mouth, she held up a hand to stop him.

"The truth, Lee."

He sighed and set his wand down on the table in front of them. Whatever he was about to say required his full attention and focus. Turning slightly in his chair to meet her eyes, she could sense a shifting in his bearing. As much as he might not wish to, he was about to finally be honest.

"Dolohov was able to get my name and address from a contact he had in the Muggle police department. Apparently, we're not the only ones with connections."

"Why would he attack the police if he knew someone?"

"Because he didn't attack anyone. As far as I'm aware, he never even stepped foot inside the station you were kept."

A small weight lifted from her shoulders. Hardly noticeable considering all of the other burdens she was carrying, it was at least a tiny relief that he hadn't hurt anyone. Every Muggle she encountered the night she was arrested for trespassing had been exceedingly kind. Under the likely very real impression that there was something mentally wrong with her, they hadn't treated her like an average criminal for even a moment. Perhaps she wore her insanity on her face and they were perceptive enough to see it.

"Why would you tell me…" She stopped herself before she could finish the question. It didn't matter. The lies he told her were in the past. He was finally being honest in that moment. That was all she cared about. "What happened when Antonin came to your house?"

"He knocked on the front door. Very politely even. Posy answered it before we could stop her. When she asked him who he was, he smiled at her and asked if he could speak to her father. He was kind."

Antonin had always had a soft spot for small girls. He'd desired to have a daughter after Oliver was born. Pregnancy had never been easy for Hermione and after the incident with the stairs, he never brought it up again. But, she'd seen the wistful way he used to watch the daughters of their friends. As much as he loved their son, he never felt like their family was complete.

"She called for me, but I was already halfway to the door when she opened it. As soon as I saw who was standing there, I screamed for Sarah. We'd been afraid he was going to show up. She grabbed Posy and tried to force Lizzie up the stairs."

"What did he do?"

"Just asked if you were still there. Very calmly. Didn't even have his wand in his hand."

Hermione struggled to believe this version of events, but knew instinctively that Lee wasn't lying. Many times in the past she had been present with Antonin when he paid a visit to the house of someone suspected of harboring a fugitive. Rarely had he ever been polite.

"Honestly, Hermione, he seemed really worried about you. He asked me for permission before he cast a homenum revelio. When he realized that you weren't there, he asked me to owl him if you came back. Didn't demand. Didn't threaten. Just asked."

No longer wishing to hear any more, she stood up from the chair. Before she could step away from the wizard to return to her bedroom to hide, Lee lightly grabbed her elbow to stop her progression.

"He didn't seem anything at all like we've read in the papers or heard from others. I don't know any other way to describe him, Hermione, but he seemed… well, he seemed sad. Lost. After he thanked us, he turned around and left. That was it."

She'd heard enough. Three people had now claimed that her husband was sad that she was gone. Either she was losing her mind or they were. Clearly none of them knew the first thing about their marriage. Whatever emotion Antonin was feeling, it wasn't sadness. He'd always been a good actor when it suited him. Maybe they were all just taken in by his convincing performance. They certainly wouldn't be the first.

"Thank you, Lee."

Wrenching her arm out of his grasp, she headed straight for the door. She was done talking about her husband. She was done talking full stop.