May 26th

Antonin's announcement wasn't as surprising as it should have been. There was a time when no one believed it was even possible that the Dark Lord could die. Once it was discovered that Hermione and Ron assisted Harry Potter in hunting out his horcruxes, their new master resolved to discover everything he could learn about how to combat the effects of destroyed horcruxes. To everyone's knowledge, or rather, those select few who were privy to this exceptionally private matter, there wasn't a single person alive who could answer his questions. Too few people were willing to make even one horcrux, let alone seven. Having an accidental eighth horcrux only further compounded his problems.

How he was able to survive for an additional twenty years after all of his horcruxes were destroyed was a complete mystery. Truthfully, even someone as curious as Hermione didn't want to know. To maintain his existence for so long in such a precarious state must have involved some truly Dark deeds. There was only so much a single person could put their body and soul through before they were doomed.

Even if she wasn't shocked by Antonin's news, she pretended like she was. She knew how to play her husband just right. If he thought she was too knowledgable already on a subject or topic, he would give her only the barest details or stop discussing it altogether. But, if she played at ignorance convincingly, he would not spare anything he knew. He truly was a remarkable teacher. It was a shame that he'd made the wrong choices when he was just out of Hogwarts nursing a broken heart courtesy of the cow Andromeda Black. He would have made a fine professor at Hogwarts. She could see him easily teaching Charms or Defense Against the Dark Arts. They might have taken all mention of Defense out of the class title when the inept Amycus Carrow was professor, but it was how she would always remember that class.

The first clue that she had that the Dark Lord was in truly dire health was the mere fact that she'd been back from her defection for almost two weeks and hadn't been summoned to the castle once. She wasn't sure all that her husband was keeping hidden from their master about the past year. Considering the summonses had been few and far between before she ran, she knew that it was theoretically possible that Antonin simply hadn't divulged the full truth to their master at all. Out of fear for her safety and what would happen if she was captured, he might have even been able to lie convincingly for an entire year. Her husband was a master Occlumens, far better than anyone she'd ever known. If anyone could do it, he could. When he was less agitated and no longer upset from what was clearly a trying evening, she would carefully press him for details of what he told the Dark Lord about her absence.

Antonin continued to take deep gulps of the offered fire whiskey. His wife ensured that his glass wasn't empty long. She wanted to know everything even if it meant she had to manipulate him and use his weakness for alcohol against him.

"I saw the Dark Lord this morning at Hogwarts."

No one had been allowed to enter the Lord Voldemort's quarters in the castle for weeks. That should have been another large clue to anyone too thick to understand that something serious was happening. He despised weakness and strove to make certain that no one ever saw him the least bit vulnerable or human. Half of his influence was in the fact that he could terrify his people with just the threat of unimaginable power. Seeing in his place a feeble and sick man would have ruined the illusion. That would not have been allowed.

Antonin wasn't one to be denied when he needed to speak with their master. It was his tenacity that almost got him trouble many times in the past when the Dark Lord feared he was planning to take over his position. His legendary paranoia had only grown larger the longer he managed to cling to some semblance of living. Every suit of armor in the castle was an enemy out to depose him. It was little wonder that he didn't want any of his loyal followers to see him in his weakened state. Her husband, however, didn't care. He would intimidate even the fiercest of Hogwarts house-elves intent on performing their duties for their current master.

"He's the worst I've ever seen him. The smell, Hermione… gods, the smell… there is nothing like it. Nothing can prepare you for it. It's as if he's rotting from the inside out. Every breath he exhales or word he says is putrid. I can hardly breathe when I'm around him for fear of vomiting."

"How do you know he's dying? Did he tell you that?"

"No, you know him well enough to know he'll never admit to being capable of death. In his warped and diseased mind, he's immortal."

A great deal of things had changed since she was gone indeed. In the past, they might have quietly hinted at the fallibility of the Dark wizard they chose to follow, but they never came right out and criticized him or spoke against the mythology he'd created for himself. She and Antonin both were responsible for filing reports throughout the years on those citizens of the regime who spoke unfavorably about their Dark Lord. Never had he been so forthright in his criticism. Hermione felt as if her world was spinning faster than she could handle. If her husband was speaking against their master without fear, they were further along in the process to having a leadership change than she realized.

"He's been using some very, very Dark magic to try to stay alive and powerful."

Her husband stopped speaking to down the rest of his glass of fire whiskey. Whatever he was thinking about was upsetting. Hermione wasn't sure she even wanted to imagine what their master was capable of. In her first year, he resorted to drinking the blood of slain unicorns to stay alive. She knew for a fact that part of Walden Macnair's duties before he met his sticky end in her basement several years earlier was to seek out and kill the unicorns that lived in the Forbidden Forest. Many of those who knew the terrible secret were afraid that he'd been successful in eradicating them completely from the forest. She was pleased to be told in the strictest of confidence a year or two after Macnair mysteriously vanished without a trace that Hagrid had seen some foals in the forest. Though their relationship was a bit strained and not nearly as warm as it had been when she was a child, the gamekeeper still made a point to remain friendly after all those years. She suspected strongly that he knew he needed an ally within the Inner Circle and sought her out due to a sense of nostalgia. In thanks for his cheerful presence when she was a frightened girl terrified that her best friends would never forgive her, she did all she could to keep the half-giant protected.

"I'm ashamed to admit that I've helped him before in the past."

There were a few times that she suspected Antonin might be included in some of the more secretive tasks that their master required. If he was ordered to keep his actions silent, he wouldn't even give his wife a hint that he knew something he shouldn't.

"What did he have you do? Kill more unicorns?"

"I really don't want to talk about it."

He would offer no further explanation. Hermione was glad. If the mere memory of what he'd done in the service of the Dark Lord unnerved her unflappable husband so, she didn't want to know. His complexion was tinged a faint green and there were unshed tears in his dark brown eyes. Taking pity on him once more that evening, she filled up his glass. By this point, she'd lost count the number that he'd had. Knocking it back in a single swallow, she knew that whatever was asked of him must have been truly terrible. A shiver of fear crawled up her spine.

"But whatever he has been trying hasn't been working lately. He's weak. Ollie could probably finish him off in his current state with little more than a tickling charm."

"Is that what the meeting in London was about?"

He nodded his head.

"We're making plans for what to do when he finally dies. Have been for months now. Gus must have told you about the explosion in the Leaky Cauldron during one of them."

It was the first time since she returned to Hogsmeade that he made any mention of the time he knew she spent in Cornwall. Augustus would always be a sensitive subject for the two of them. Eventually, it would all have to come out whether she wanted to discuss it or not. She could appreciate the fact that her husband was trying to ease her back into her former life. Many men might not have been so thoughtful when their wives essentially abandoned them for an entire year. Her only response to his statement was a single nod of her head.

"I informed them tonight that he was worse. Any day now I expect to get the message from one of the house-elves that he's finally gone."

"What do you expect will happen after that?"

He took another deep gulp from his glass. With a deep sigh, he met her eyes. The tears from earlier were gone, replaced only with a cold certainty.

"Chaos, my darling. Chaos."