June 9th

Hermione took advantage of Saturday morning to sleep in a little longer than she normally would. Following her unexpectedly pleasant activities with her husband in the early morning hours Friday, she was able to fall asleep for at least three or four hours before she had to get up to be at the Ministry. It wasn't much sleep. Just enough to keep her functional for another day in the office she already despised.

When she stumbled into the office a little later than usual, she was surprised to find it empty. Rabastan never made a single appearance all day. She didn't allow herself to worry about the implications of his absence. There were many reasons why he would be gone. Some were even perfectly innocent. Without him there to bother her about her choice whether or not to join his band of renegades, she found the day go by quite pleasantly and quickly.

Draco didn't meet her at Number Twelve either. She was able to slip into the crumbling townhome, check that the potion was still progressing as it should, and be back home before she was missed. Not that Antonin bothered to even come home until after she was already in bed asleep. She was glad to not have to face her husband so soon after the first time they renewed their marital relations. It was bound to be awkward when they first had a conversation.

She didn't know what to make of the change in their relationship. Feeling Antonin's kisses on her bare skin and the perfect way he knew just how to touch her to make her pant and moan for more confused her. She did not love him. Not in the conventional sense at least, but there was something oddly comforting about feeling the weight of his body on top of hers. Like she had finally come back home where she belonged.

It was a ridiculous notion that she chastised herself for thinking the moment she thought it. Years of an unhealthy symbiotic relationship with the wizard skewered her perception of reality. What sort of woman thought that life with a man who frequently lost his temper and hurt his wife physically was something to aspire to? Yes, Antonin had been on his best behavior since she showed up on his doorstep just before midnight on their son's birthday. That wasn't an indication that they would continue down the same path. Maybe he did change while she was gone, but that was too little and much too late. Pleasant weeks and one exhilarating night didn't make up for years of pain and degradation.

The gentle touch of her hair forced Hermione's eyes open. Sunlight streamed through the window proving that it was already at least mid-morning. Her husband sat on the edge of the bed, already fully dressed with a smile on his lips. Thanks to his late night on Friday, they hadn't had the chance to actually speak since they comforted each other in the middle of the night. The desire to repeat their earlier actions warred with her practical sensibilities that they needed to not muddy the waters with anything physical again. Antonin greeted her with a gentle kiss to her lips.

"Get dressed. I have a surprise for you."

No one would have ever believed Hermione if she said so, but over the years they were married, her husband had proven countless times that he had a bit of a romantic streak hidden inside his violence and anger. Just as he spoke gently to injured kittens, there was more to him that most people never got a chance to see. Unsure what he was up to and yet very curious to find out, she slipped out of bed.

"You're being very mysterious this morning. Where are we going?"

Antonin looked up from his cup of tea when she met him down in the kitchen fully dressed and ready for whatever surprise he had in store. A half-smile appeared on his face making him appear much younger than the scowls he usually wore would have one believe. Setting his cup down in the sink, he crossed the room to take her hands in his.

"Wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, would it?"

"You can't even give me a hint? What if I don't like it?"

"I can't guarantee that you will like it, but at least some of your questions will be answered."

He could be cryptic when it suited his purposes. Hermione hated when he wouldn't come right out and answer her question. But, experience taught her that she wasn't likely to get any additional information out of the man until he was ready to divulge it. She just had to trust that he wasn't about to drag her off to her death or to something worse.

No further clues were given to her about the surprise her husband had in store for them. Taking her by the hand, Antonin led them out of the front door. The quiet street they lived on was practically empty. Not afraid that they were in danger of being seen, he leaned down to kiss her again. It seemed that opening the door the other night was bringing out another side of him that she hadn't seen in awhile. Maybe he really was trying. With a whispered assurance that she could trust him, Antonin Disapparated them both away from Hogsmeade.

The moment the squeezing ended, Hermione knew where she was. No longer constrained by the Apparition, she still felt like her lungs were captured in a vise that was slowly being tightened. It had been so long since she was last there. Or had it been? She couldn't even trust her own memories and didn't understand why.

"They're expecting us."

She stared up at the house she grew up in with her Muggle parents unable to fully comprehend what was happening. Who was expecting them? Each step she took closer to the answers she desired became more difficult. Her feet felt like heavy iron weights. Without Antonin's gentle urging and pulling along, she might not have made it to the front door.

A single knock courtesy of her husband brought the door open only moments later. Standing in the doorway looking perfectly healthy, if a bit elderly, were her parents. Excited to see them both, her mother accepted a kiss on the cheek from her son-in-law before wrapping her arms around her speechless daughter. While Hermione tried to wrap her mind around what was happening, she watched her father shake Antonin's hand and slap him good-naturedly on the back. Not only were they familiar with each other, they appeared to be quite friendly. What was happening? Her father turned her attention to his daughter to hug tightly. Still dazed by the revelation that her parents were indeed still alive, Hermione placed her hand on Antonin's arm before they followed her parents inside. She lowered her voice to a whisper that only he could hear.

"You hate Muggles."

"But I love you. Ollie needs grandparents."

He led them both inside to the dining room where her mother had a lavish lunch prepared. Hermione didn't understand what was happening. How was it possible that she blocked the memories she had of her parents being alive? There was something sinister going on that didn't sit well in her stomach. Like she had with Andromeda's delightful demise, she just forgot that her parents didn't die in the war in a terrible accident? She hated that she didn't know what was happening to her mind. The potions that she used to drink too much of to help her cope with the reality of how awful her world was couldn't be entirely to blame.

Antonin was correct when he said that he wasn't sure that she would like the surprise, but that she would at least have some answers. The problem with the meal, however, was the fact that she had even more questions than she had answers. Every moment they sat in the once-familiar room chatting over lunch like nothing strange had happened in their lives only served to make her even more confused. She knew she was behaving strangely. Her parents were too kind to mention that she was unusually quiet.

"Hermione, dear, I'll be honest that your father and I didn't like the idea of your research trip in South America. While it sounds terribly fascinating, it was a long time to be away from your family."

She couldn't argue with her parents. Not over the lie they had been told to conceal their missing daughter's true location for over a year. Antonin constructed a very plausible story that she'd been asked to study an obscure branch of magic down in the rainforests. While it wasn't supposed to keep her away from home for as long as it had, there had been some unforeseen complications. Lies rolled off of his tongue with ease. That was more like the man she was used to than the one he'd been trying to be since her return.

Few times in her life had she been so glad for a visit to be over. Every second she was with her parents she was reminded that there were entire blocks of her memory that were completely missing. She had no answers for what happened to her mind. After a couple of hours of inane conversation where Antonin took the lead to spare his wife, they said their goodbyes with a promise that they would be back again as soon as Oliver was out of school for the summer holidays. Perhaps afraid that she would try to run, her husband grasped her hand once more to Side-Along Apparate her with him home. The moment they entered the safety of their own home, she felt the crush of emotions hit her.

"Why can't I remember them being alive, Antonin?"

He didn't have any answers. Seeing that she was in distress over the visit, he pulled her against his chest. For once she didn't even want to push him away.

"When was the last time I saw them? Do you remember?"

"Christmas Day… a few months before you left."

"None of this makes any sense. I remember them being dead. Killed in an accident during the war. But I also remember them dying after the war of illness. How can they still be alive and I don't remember them?"

She could feel herself growing more emotional and distraught with each moment that passed. Antonin asked again if he could take her to St. Mungo's to see a specialist he knew. Apparently, despite her refusal over the years to visit with a Healer, he'd been doing his own research, meeting with Healers all over the country who might be able to help her. He even admitted once that he stepped into a Muggle hospital in his desperation to find someone who could help his wife. She still couldn't bear the idea of a stranger messing around in her brain.

"We will figure this all out, my darling. There's got to be something we can do."

When he led her up the stairs back to their bedroom, she didn't fight him. The day's events left her feeling exhausted. He slipped a vial of the potion he always had her take when she needed to calm down into her hand. Nervous at first to take it, she only swallowed it when he promised her again that they would find out what was wrong with her mind.

She almost believed him.