May 31st

Antonin never returned home from whatever mysterious meeting it was that he had to attend with Corban. She waited and waited for him to come back, but he never did. Frustrated, but refusing to admit that she was concerned about the wizard she married, Hermione sat up. Eventually when the hour grew too late and there were still no answers, she fell asleep on the sofa in the lounge. At least she would be able to hear him the moment he returned.

The sun shining through the windows was what finally woke her up, not the sound of her husband opening the front door. Confused by her presence on the sofa, she rubbed her eyes and tried to remember what happened. Only after she called out for Antonin and heard no response did she come to the conclusion that she'd fallen asleep waiting for him. It bothered her that she was actually worried about the man. After so many years of cruelty, it felt wrong to be concerned that he was potentially in danger. What was so important that he couldn't come home?

Deciding that sitting around all day for him would drive her completely round the bend, Hermione attempted to make the day as normal as possible. Arriving only a short time later than she usually did to the office, she was surprised to find no one in her department yet. Rabastan kept whatever hours pleased him. Since beginning her rather flagrant affair with the Co-Head of the Intelligence Division, her incompetent assistant rolled into the office whenever it suited her. Not that Hermione cared that much. If she could go the rest of her life without seeing either one of their faces, she would be pleased.

She turned her focus back to the piles of parchment on her desk. Her plan was going along as it should be. Until she had confirmation that Draco was able to find the polyjuice potion or gather the necessary ingredients, she was in a holding stage. A lot was riding on whether or not her accomplice could get the potion. Theoretically, it was possible to do what she needed done without resorting to stolen identities, but she much preferred her chances with it. She was also no longer in a rush to prove herself worthy enough to get her access back to Level Eleven any time soon. If she wasn't cleared for the Level, how could anyone suspect she helped Aberforth escape? As far as she was aware, very, very few knew about the existence of the hidden staircase. A few carefully worded questions proved that at minimum Rabastan didn't have a clue there was another entrance. His arrogance and tendency to fully rely on just magic was a hindrance, just like Antonin used to warn her about when she whinged about not being allowed to use her wand in her training.

Until well after noon, she was alone in her office. When she returned from another dismal meal in the Ministry canteen, she was startled to see Rabastan at his desk looking a little worse for wear. Her hated assistant tried and failed to cover her yawns just outside their door. With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Hermione sat down behind her own desk.

"Have a late night again, Rabastan?"

His only response to her query was to look up and glare. Under the best circumstances, he wasn't a morning person. After being forced to stay out all night for a reason she still wasn't sure of, he could be positively unbearable. Her only consolation was the fact that she knew if the Dark Lord was dead or some other horrific tragedy befell their regime, he wouldn't have forced himself to come into the office.

"Were you up late last night with that cheap slag outside? She was late coming in too. Will I finally get a chance to sack her?"

He was annoyed at first. His scowl made her smile. It really was too easy to stir the man up. Had he learned nothing in all of his years as a Death Eater how to control his visible emotions? Almost as soon as the scowl appeared, it morphed into a feral grin that put her on edge.

"Long meeting last night. But, of course you knew that already. Must have been frustrating to be left at home."

She didn't want to play his game. There were never any winners. Yes, a small part of her was frustrated that she wasn't included. Antonin's request that she remain home rankled her nerves even as she saw the sense behind it. She wasn't ready to return to her old existence at full speed just yet. She probably never would be ready.

"We all missed you, of course. It's never been quite the same without you there."

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her focus back to her work. She was done being manipulated by her obnoxious coworker. The man truly was vile.

"I wonder if Antonin thought it would be best that you stay home out of fear that you wouldn't be able to control yourself. You've grown a bit dangerous, pet. More so than in the past anyway. Do you think your husband was worried that he wouldn't be able to continue keeping your biggest secret if you were present?"

If she continued to allow him to taunt her, Hermione knew he would consider it a victory. She couldn't allow him to see how much he was actually upsetting her.

"My 'biggest secret', Rabastan? Shut up."

"Struck a nerve, have I? My theory is Antonin doesn't want the rest of us to know how unstable you've become. Having an insane wife is sure to put a damper on his future prospects to rule as the next Dark Lord."

Her first instinct was to shoot an Avada straight to his chest for the insult. Deciding that wouldn't be painful enough, she considered using her favorite spell Antonin helped her perfect years earlier. A single flick of her wrist would open up a wound across his carotid artery that no Healer could fix. At least not in the time it took to die of exsanguination. It was how she preferred to end the lives of those who no longer had any use. But, she knew she couldn't afford to murder the horrible wizard just yet. There was still too much at stake for her to lose her temper.

"Fuck you, Rabastan."

"I would love to, pet, but I'm afraid I'm too tired to make much of an effort. Maybe tomorrow."

Hermione wasn't crazy. Maybe she got confused and disoriented from time to time, but she was not crazy. Hearing Rabastan make his accusation only encouraged her to want to finally end the man's wretched existence. If that made her "unstable" and "dangerous", so be it! But she was not crazy.

Several minutes of stewing in her anger wasn't helping Hermione prove there was nothing wrong. Frustrated that she couldn't concentrate, she rose to her feet and stormed out of the office. Nothing there was pressing. It would all still be there tomorrow. No one stopped her as she made a mad dash for the fireplaces in the Atrium. Likely her angry expression was enough of a deterrent to polite conversation.

Her abrupt arrival in their kitchen startled Antonin enough that he almost dropped the kettle he was filling with water. If she hadn't been so angry, she would've taken the opportunity to remind him about the need to be constantly aware of his surroundings even in his own home. Instead, she stomped across the room until she stood only centimeters away from the confused, concerned man.

"Hermione, why are you…?"

"Why didn't you want me to go with you last night? Why didn't you want me at your side again?"

He started to calmly give her some excuse about how he didn't want her to feel overwhelmed by too much too soon. Unwilling to listen to his patronizing rubbish, she held up her hand to stop him. He knew her moods well enough to comply.

"Tell me the truth, Antonin. Is it because you think I'm crazy like everyone else?"

"Where is this even coming from?"

"Tell me!"

It was always a dangerous idea to provoke the man. Quickly losing his patience with his wife, Antonin slammed the kettle down on the counter. Whatever he was about to say, she knew that she wasn't going to like it.

"You've already proven that you're confused by a lot. Honestly, you're a liability and if some of the other Death Eaters knew the truth, they wouldn't hesitate to hurt you."

"And just what have I been so confused about?"

She wasn't convinced by anything he said. Maybe there were times that she forgot some small detail, but that was just a sign of getting older, wasn't it? How could she possibly be a liability?

"When was the last time you remember seeing your parents?"

It was a low blow, effective nonetheless. She sputtered, but no adequate response came out of her mouth. He had her there.

"Or how about the fact that you believe I pushed you down the stairs?"

"You did!"

But as soon as she replied, she began to question her memories. She wasn't completely sure that she could trust the recollections. Not anymore. Antonin lowered his voice to a soft tone, a sure sign that he was growing steadily more and more upset with the direction their conversation was moving.

"And Gus said you thought Andromeda had been living here with me this past year."

She pushed aside the knowledge that it was evident her former lover had been in contact with her husband. Of course once it was discovered that she'd been hiding away in Augustus' house, it wouldn't take long before Antonin began to demand answers from his rival. What did it even matter what she assumed Andromeda Tonks was up to in her absence?

"It was a reasonable assumption."

"Andromeda is dead, Hermione."

That was news to her. She hadn't heard anything since returning to the wizarding world about the demise of her husband's favorite slag. Part of her longed to find where the bitch was buried just to dance on her grave, but that just seemed petty. Instead she put on her most insincere frown and ignoring the vein that was beginning to pop out in her husband's forehead, pretended unconvincingly to care.

"Aww, I didn't realize. Was it sudden? Did she suffer terribly?"

His rage-filled eyes told her that he wanted to hit her, wanted to curse her and kill her for being so disrespectful. There had been love on his part for the horrible dead woman. Maybe she should have at least tried to remain respectful, but after thirteen years of comparisons where she knew she always fell short, she didn't have enough energy left in her to care. Her husband loomed over her smaller frame, setting his face only inches away from hers. Anyone else who knew the man's violent tendencies would have been afraid. She refused to allow him to have that power over her again.

"You should know. You were the one who killed her."

Moments after his shocking statement, Antonin flew out of the back door. He didn't trust himself another second around the witch he so obviously wanted to strangle.