June 18th

It was telling that returning to the Ministry on Monday morning was a relief to Hermione. Being stuck at home with Antonin was miserable. He was still silent about what it was that she'd done to upset him so. Based on his behavior at the end of the reception, she was smart enough to decipher that he'd been less than pleased with her spending even just a few minutes alone with Augustus. Some jealousies would never die, she supposed. It had all been innocent with hundreds of potential witnesses. None of that seemed to matter to her husband. Truthfully, she didn't much care that he wouldn't talk to her. Sometimes that was easier.

A tense Sunday melted into a welcome Monday. It felt strange to actually feel pleased about returning to her office on Level Two. At least for a few hours that day she could be assured that she wouldn't have to face down her petulant, angry husband. Eventually, they were going to have to resolve whatever it was that was making him so upset, but she felt sure she could last a few more days before she exploded and demanded he tell her. She couldn't place the blame entirely on Augustus. Antonin was mad long before they saw her ex at the wedding.

She sighed, deciding to push all thoughts of her cantankerous husband out of her head for the time being. By her calculations, she had almost exactly two weeks until the polyjuice potion would be ready for its final ingredient. Two weeks wasn't really all that long if she thought about it. There had been longer stretches in her marriage where they were unable to speak to each other without violent outbursts. She could make it through the next couple of weeks. Once she secured Aberforth his freedom, she wouldn't give another damn what sort of mood her husband was in ever again.

Rabastan chose to finally grace their department with his presence just before noon. What kept him from keeping proper hours at his job was none of Hermione's concern. In the past she might have harangued him for not telling her explicitly what he was doing during the time he was expected to be working within their office, but that seemed like a great deal of effort to expend on something she didn't care much about.

"You seemed awfully cozy with Antonin the other night at Theodore's dreadful reception, pet. Does that mean you've finally made your decision?"

Her Co-Head stared at her from behind his desk with a bright grin on his handsome face. For once, he was actually quite amusing. Perhaps that wasn't his intended purpose, but it worked. After the wretched weekend she had, a little bit of levity was most welcome.

"You seemed awfully cozy with your own wife, Rabastan. Are you two on good terms again?"

Taken aback by her question at first, he blinked a couple of times before bursting out in loud laughter. She found herself joining in with her own. As much as she hated him, his laughter was infectious. Always had been. When the laughter died down, he grew quite serious.

"Yes, I'm afraid the dear little wife and I are on good enough terms that she's demanded we have another baby. I explained to her that it was unseemly. We have enough children. We're not the Weasleys after all."

His scowl made Hermione laugh again. Replacing his grimace with a satisfied smirk, he raised a single eyebrow.

"Want to come lay on top of my desk and help me get the taste of her out of my mouth? It's been entirely too long since you've come apart on my tongue."

A lazy flick of her wrist sent a mild stinging hex to his arm. Not terribly painful, it was more annoying than anything. If she truly wanted him to feel some measure of pain, she was highly experienced in the proper techniques.

"That is not going to happen again, Rabastan."

"I'll say it again, pet. You used to be more fun."

Hermione was growing weary of their daily interactions. In fact, everything about the Ministry of Magic and their magical society at large was tiresome. Contending with her irascible husband's ever-changing moods was difficult enough. She was ready for her mission to be over. One way or another, success or failure, she just wanted to be done. If she could have her one desire, she would be able to push her plan through faster. She hated that she was at the mercy of the polyjuice potion. None of her other ideas were nearly as good. Waiting was a necessity.

But, it didn't have to be a complete waste of her time. As long as she was stuck there for the immediate future, she could at least gather as much information as she could. There was likely to be another war soon. How many different sides would exist was still unknown. More than just being the Resistance versus the Death Eaters, it was going to be complicated. If she wasn't successful in slipping out of the country before the fighting began, it would be best if she knew as much as possible. Perhaps Rabastan would tell her what she wanted to know if she just asked the right questions.

"Who exactly is part of this group you are so determined I join?"

One side of his mouth curled up into a smirk. He was no fool. After working for the regime in some capacity as someone who could pull answers out of reluctant subjects, Rabastan knew how to keep his own mouth shut. He wouldn't come right out and give her everything she requested. No, he'd make her work for it. That wasn't a problem. Working for so many years in close quarters with the man taught her his tells. She knew just by looking at him what he was thinking at times.

"Let me just guess then. You can tell me if I'm correct."

He laughed, but didn't demand she stop. She chose to take it as an encouragement to keep going.

"Ron, obviously. He's been on your side since Day One. I can't imagine that's changed."

Though he didn't come right out and admit that she was correct, Hermione could tell by the twitch in his lips that she was.

"And I know that despite her friendship with me, Alecto would never willingly follow my husband."

Another tiny twitch.

"Marcus Flint hero worships you."

Another twitch. He might have believed that he was being too subtle, but she knew. She recited several more names that he reacted to in different ways. Some of them, like Thorfinn, she threw out there knowing full well they weren't a member of his faction just to see how he would react. To be truthful, none of his comrades struck a bit of fear into her heart. They would all be easily defeated. She was surprised at him. What could he possibly be thinking surrounding himself with such worthless allies? It wasn't like him at all.

"Theodore Nott."

His was the only name that drew out a noticeable reaction. As soon as the words fell from her mouth, Rabastan was scowling again.

"Absolutely not!"

At first she worried that he was protesting too much, but then she examined his features more closely. The vein that only seemed to pop out of his neck when he was truly angry was evident. His breathing changed ever so slightly. Maybe not enough for anyone other than someone trained and experienced in the art of interrogation to notice. His reaction was genuine to her surprise. She thought for certain that Nott teamed up with her partner. Realizing that there was another faction out there to worry about only made her more anxious. How many enemies did she and her husband have again?

"Nott is worthless and I have no use for him at all. Even if he invited me to join a rebellion, I wouldn't bother."

All suspicions she had about them working together were gone. Rabastan was right when he said he wouldn't sully himself to stoop to Nott's level. Knowing that they weren't in league together gave Hermione a rather interesting idea. Thanks to Draco's tip weeks earlier, she knew just what to do.

"You know, I've been able to find a surprising number of connections between Theodore and several of the suspects we arrested for suspicion of blowing up the Leaky Cauldron."

Rabastan's smile made him look as if Christmas came early that year. He rose to his feet and eagerly crossed the office to sit on the edge of her desk. All of the files she'd been reviewing were still there stacked in neat, organized piles. She handed him a couple to get started. It didn't take long for him to peruse the notes she'd made in the margins of the parchment. His smile only grew brighter.

"It was common knowledge that Theodore Senior didn't care much for Theodore Junior. I'm not surprised at all by this theory. In fact, I'm rather annoyed that I didn't think of it myself."

"He didn't waste any time getting married to replace his heir."

Rabastan clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply.

"You don't know the half of it. He approached my wife and me days after the explosion to see if we would be interested in forming an alliance with him. Apparently, he's always thought my eldest was rather pretty."

"But Julia is only…"

"Sixteen years old."

The man had a number of faults and terrible traits, but he loved his family. Or, his children at least. His wife was another issue entirely.

"He was generous enough to suggest we wait until she was seventeen to formalize the marriage. Can you even imagine? As if I would allow my sweet, little girl to become nothing more than chattel to that monster! Gemma was even angrier than I was. She said some words that no proper Pureblood girl should know and threatened him with a few inventive curses if he ever dared to come within a hundred meters of our daughter."

There was more than just a hint of pride on his face when he spoke about his wife. Perhaps there was something there after all. Minuscule, no doubt, but still present.

"Well, Rabastan, I think in good conscience there is only one thing we can possibly do."

"Bring Theodore in for a bit of questioning downstairs?"

She was almost excited at the prospect of his interrogation. Did that mean she was falling back into her old patterns and habits? Or was this just simply a special case because of the vileness of the man involved? Hermione decided she would think about it later, much later.

"Do we want to wait until his honeymoon is over or should we save the new Mrs. Nott from his touch?"

His face split into one of the first genuine smiles that she had ever seen.

"No need to rush. Mrs. Nott is in no danger. Nor is her virtue. During one of Theodore's endless toasts, I might have slipped a pesky little potion into his wine when he wasn't paying attention. Poor man won't be able to perform for weeks. Not even with the potions you know a man of his age swallows in the bedroom. Their honeymoon will be over long before he can consummate the marriage."

Hermione could've kissed the man for his deviousness. What a delightful revenge against a horrible man!

"Let's also bring in his new in-laws. Maybe they know something."

If he understood the real reason why she wanted to arrest the poor girl's parents, he didn't say. Only smiled a little wider. Perhaps he was feeling every bit as disgusted by their decision to sell their daughter as Hermione.