May 27th

There was no reason to rush out of bed on Sunday morning. It was a bizarre feeling being back home that surprisingly, Hermione was finding it easy to get used to. For an entire year, she did everything she could think of to make certain that she wasn't forced to return to the familiar house on a quiet street in the village of Hogsmeade. Just the thought of returning to share the same living space with her husband was enough to send her running. She wondered why she was beginning to feel like it might just be easier to stay.

With the Dark Lord's death imminent, their entire society was about to be thrown into the chaos Antonin promised. The Muggles who lived alongside the wizards and witches were completely oblivious to what was actually happening in their world. When terrible tragedies struck the Wizarding world that they weren't able to keep hidden, those poor beings without magic were able to simply explain it away as violence of their own making. How sad that it was evident all humans, regardless of their ability to use magic or not, were filled with the same kind of savagery. But, at least the Muggles penchant for violence helped make the Ministry of Magic's job just a little easier while the generation-long conflict continued. Not even Lord Voldemort and his regime was exempt from the International Statute of Secrecy. The regime could rule the magical sections of the country with an iron fist as long as no one unworthy to use magic discovered the truth.

Her conversation with Antonin in the earliest hours of Saturday morning left her with a great deal to think about. Because of his exhaustion and the sheer amount of alcohol he consumed, they didn't speak much past his assertion that chaos was preparing itself to settle into their borders. He was asleep most of Saturday morning and only rose reluctantly from their bed in the afternoon to leave on another mysterious mission he would give her no clues about. Returning long after she'd fallen asleep, she didn't mind that they hadn't had the opportunity to continue their discussion. She was still operating under the hope that she would be able to avoid as many unpleasant and awkward conversations with the man she married as she could in the time she expected to remain.

A nagging thought in the back of her mind kept reminding her that even if she was somehow successful in securing Aberforth's freedom, she wasn't necessarily going to be certain of her own. The Resistance despised the very ground she walked upon. That hadn't changed and likely wouldn't no matter what she did. Even if she was able to slay the Dark Lord herself and bring both Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter back from the dead to rebuild the world from the ashes left behind, she wouldn't be forgiven. Not for the twenty years that she turned her back on the people she once was a part of. They wouldn't forgive her for taking what they thought was the easy way out. She'd committed many, many crimes that she deserved no absolution for. No matter what she did, she would remain an enemy of the Resistance.

Maybe it would be safer to remain with her husband during the dark days sure to come. If she ran, he would never stop looking for her. And if she stayed, he would give his very last breath to ensure that she remained safe. She knew that without a doubt. Antonin would feel it his obligation to keep his wife protected from any threat. It didn't matter that Augustus was the one sitting outside her broom cupboard or that he was the one who wrangled a promise from the Resistance to keep her protected for his assistance in ensuring the Revolution they desired would pass. Her husband had always been her true protector. Even if she couldn't stand the sight of him at times and he'd been violent and abusive during the course of their relationship, he was the one who taught her the skills she needed to survive in their fucked up world. As much as she hated to think charitable thoughts about the man, she knew that without Antonin, she would've been dead many long years ago.

She pressed aside her thoughts about the past to focus on the future. With the sound of her husband's heavy breathing still in her ear, Hermione lay awake thinking about her plan. Antonin's long absence on Saturday and then his desire to sleep in on Sunday allowed her the chance to plan without interruptions. Her first step in the plan for Aberforth's release was a fairly simple one. It wouldn't take much effort. After all, she'd done it countless times before over the years. One had to be adaptable and unafraid to get their hands dirty.

Beyond the first step, she knew she needed help. Her real question was where was she going to find it. The most obvious answer would be to seek out Draco for assistance. Not only was he fully aware of the complete mess she was involved in, but there was reason, however small, to believe that she could trust him to help. She tried to ignore the worries that crept up on her the longer she was away from him that he was playing an angle she didn't understand. Maybe he claimed that night to be falling in love with her. Maybe he even meant it. Regardless, she knew she couldn't afford to blindly believe whatever he said. Everyone had an agenda and they weren't all in her best interest. If she couldn't rely on Draco, she would have to explore other avenues. There were still some people out there who would be willing to help her for the right price. Most of them were less than ideal. She would use them if it was necessary.

The subtle shifting of the bed next to her broke Hermione out of her thoughts. Turning her head to the side, she found her husband awake and staring. Even after many hours of sleep, the man still looked exhausted. She got the impression that it had been a long time since he'd last taken proper care of himself. Feeling the urge to scold him, she bit her tongue. Likely, the biggest reason he was so harried and unlike his usual composed self was because of her antics of the past year. She knew that she'd changed in her absence. Why wouldn't she expect him to be the same?

"You were out late last night."

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, I didn't hear you come in."

Antonin rubbed at his tired eyes and covered his mouth to yawn. His wife couldn't look away. She was struck by how it felt as if no time at all had passed when they were back in bed talking again. Even after two weeks, she still didn't understand the first thing that was happening between them. Wondering if he would give her some further clue if she got him talking, Hermione turned on her side to face him without straining her neck.

Just the simple moving of her body changed the entire atmosphere in the room. The air grew thick and tense with something she couldn't quite describe. Antonin's eyes fell to the bare skin of her shoulder exposed when she turned. There was a flicker of desire present in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a long time. Hermione knew it wasn't unreasonable for her husband to expect a renewal of their intimate relations once she was back in their home. It was what normal married couples did, even when they could hardly stand the sight of each other at times. She also knew that if she wanted him to drop his guard around her and give her the information she desired, she would eventually need to give in. While it terrified her in one breath, it excited her in the next. Great passion had always existed between them. It wasn't always a positive experience, but it was there.

He reached across the bed to run the tips of his fingers gently over her exposed collarbone. Every single centimeter of flesh that he touched broke out into a rash of nervous goosebumps. She was afraid of the power he held over her, and even more afraid of the fact that she enjoyed it. His fingers continued a tender exploration of the skin on display. The expression in his eyes proved that he was ready to cross over the line they'd drawn in the sand since her return. As he began the slow movement across the mattress to bring his body even closer to hers, she knew she wasn't ready.

"Theodore Nott dropped by my office Monday morning to see me when I was by myself."

She hadn't planned on telling her husband yet about the suspicious visit. Desperate for anything to say that would shift the mood, the confession just slipped out. Immediately, Antonin's mind switched off of thoughts of carnal relations with his wife to consider what she admitted. He was visibly upset if the scowl on his face was any indication.

"What do you mean he stopped by to visit you? What happened?"

She didn't spare him any of the details. There was no reason. Nott's visit left her unnerved. Baring her concerns with her husband helped to alleviate some of the fear she'd been carrying around for the better part of an entire week. When she told him everything, he climbed out of bed to begin dressing. While he crossed the room to the cupboard he kept his clothes in, he told her that he needed to speak with Corban and Thorfinn at once.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

"It didn't seem important."

Antonin didn't like her answer. He crossed back over the room to sit on the edge of her side of the bed. Running his right hand through her hair, he softened his voice. Some of the anger he'd been experiencing just moments before dissipated.

"Don't ever let yourself be alone with him again." He waited for her to nod her head in agreement. "And if you see him go anywhere near our son, kill him."

She wanted to know more, wanted to know why both her husband and Draco considered the elder Nott such a threat to her safety. Before she could formulate the right words into the question, Antonin was out the door. She knew him well enough to not try to stop him when he was on a serious mission.