July 6th

Antonin all but threatened to tie her to the bed Friday when she declared that she was going into the Ministry that morning. One day of rest wasn't enough for him. She needed more. While Hermione couldn't argue that staying in bed for yet another day sounded amazing, she wanted to see firsthand what was happening in the Ministry following the incident on Wednesday.

"You have a bad bump on your head, Hermione. You should be in bed. Rabastan will understand."

"I have work to do, Antonin. You were the one who told me that I should do what I could to get more information out of him. With Nott out of the picture, he's the one we need to be focusing on."

There was only a little truth to what she was saying. Yes, she believed that they needed to keep a close watch on Rabastan, but she didn't actually want to return to the scene of her crime because of the future Dark Lord's ascension battle. She wanted to see what was happening down in Level Eleven. Surely someone knew by then that there was an escaped prisoner? If she didn't make it seem as if she was at least interested in what was happening, it might come back to bite her. Guilty people ran. She didn't want to run just yet. Not until she knew whether or not she'd been successful in returning Aberforth to the Resistance. She was still vulnerable otherwise.

To his credit, Antonin didn't continue the argument. She knew just by looking at him that he didn't like the idea of her going back to work, but he wasn't going to press her any further. He had to have known she was worried about something. There had been no further mention of the invisibility cloak. She returned it to the basement and then drank her potion. Sleep was a welcome escape for the row she knew would be waiting for her when she woke up. Only it wasn't. She knew better than to think he'd forgotten about it. No, he would bring it up later when it suited him. In an effort to pacify him, she kissed him goodbye. Her lips lingered against his for a few seconds longer than they usually did. At least for the moment, he was calmer.

Nothing exciting was happening in the Ministry when she arrived. Hermione found it odd that it felt just like another normal day. No one had escaped from the cells in Level Eleven for years. Surely it was a big deal. Wouldn't there be more frightened weaklings whispering about the dangers they were all in again because the feared Resistance leader was back outside? It was unnerving that everything seemed so normal.

Even in her office it was more of the same. New files and reports waited for her on top of her desk. None of them said anything about Dumbledore. If she hadn't been aware of her own crimes, she would've imagined that it was just another ordinary day. Maybe it was for everyone else. It was unsettling to sit around waiting to find out if she'd been uncovered as a traitor. How could spies do that for years? She would never understand. If the Resistance ever asked her again to become a spy, she would gladly and vehemently tell them to go fuck themselves. She had no desire to live a lie. Her two months back in Hogsmeade and then in the Ministry were difficult enough. Every moment that she passed she kept expecting someone to call her out for the fraud she was. It was no way to live.

Rabastan entered the office a little earlier than usual at half past nine. Based on the surprised expression he had when he saw her scribbling away at the report she never finished, he likely expected that he would need to work longer to make up for her absence. No doubt her year-long sabbatical forced him to do more work than he had in years.

"Good morning, pet. I would've thought you'd still be at home in bed with Antonin obnoxiously hovering over you while she slept."

"Don't tell me that you're sorry to see me back here. Anxious to force me out of the office again?"

It was no secret to anyone that he would've rather her been anywhere, including six feet in the ground, than at the desk across the room from his. He'd never quite gotten over the insult from the Dark Lord that he wasn't capable of running the division by himself. Though never one to deny that Hermione possessed a number of admirable talents in their line of work, he was of the opinion that she would've been better served working under him. If presented with the opportunity to get rid of her, he would. That was half the reason she was suspicious of his suggestion that she team up with him against her husband. Rabastan played the long game. There was always more to his actions and words than he let on.

"Of course not. You're entirely too suspicious. I was worried about you when I heard that you'd been attacked in the Atrium. It was such a shock!"

He would've had a wonderful career in the wizarding equivalent of Hollywood, if such a thing existed. She knew him too well to believe anything he said, but others in their society were more trusting. Women like Rachel had been giving him favors his entire life for nothing more than the promise of a kiss and a smile. Maybe he was some kind of variation of a veela or he had one in his ancestral line. His brother had many of the same talents and charms, except Rodolphus chose not to utilize them as often.

"Yes, well, I'm fine, Rabastan. Thank you for your concern."

"Why would Dolores attack you? I don't understand it at all."

Hermione really didn't want to have a conversation about the wretched woman, but knew that it was unreasonable to expect no one else to ask her what happened. They were a society that thrived on gossip. Especially on slow days inside the Ministry her fellow officials lived for the sordid details and rumors about other people's lives. When it was revealed that she'd come back into the office, she was certain that there would be a long line of people who would discover some foolish reason or another to drop into their office for a chinwag. Considering how she was going to answer Rabastan's question, she shrugged her shoulders.

"She's never been well. Not for many years. Who knows why insane people do anything?"

His lips quirked into a feral grin that irked Hermione straight to her core. She could only imagine what was going on inside that foul brain of his and wished she'd chosen her words more carefully. Any hint of weakness and the wizard would point it out.

"Yes, you're absolutely right. One never can predict what an insane person will do next."

She was glad that he didn't immediately elaborate on his thoughts. If he brought up the fact that he knew better than a lot of people that she was well on her way to being completely crazy, she wasn't sure what her reaction would be. Having him as an open enemy was a scenario she wanted to avoid for as long as possible. Attacking him would make avoiding that disaster difficult.

Not wishing to continue the conversation any further, Hermione returned her full attention to her report. She hoped that she would be able to make her final escape in the coming days. Once she was no longer dizzy from her concussion and she was certain that Aberforth was safe, she would make her move. If she never had to see Rabastan Lestrange again for as long as she lived, she would be pleased. He was nothing but a complication she did not need. Most of the souls in her life were complications. A life lived completely alone never sounded so appealing.

"You know, Hermione, there's something about the whole incident the other day that confuses me."

The fact that they were about to make it almost an hour before he brought up her attack again should've been impressive. He was well-suited to his job of rooting out all of the potential information available. Like a dog with a bone, he wasn't going to give up until his curiosity was sated.

"Yes? What is that?"

"Funny thing, really. Naturally it was a surprise to all of us to learn that you were attacked right here in our own Ministry. Who knew that a delightful person like Dolores had such hate and power within her dumpy, little body?"

Rabastan rose from his desk, no longer able to sit still. Crossing the room to her desk, he settled himself down on the edge. It was a habit of his over the years that he was never able to break. Hermione wanted to send an Avada straight to his face.

"What I find most confusing about this whole incident was that no one knew you'd ever left your office. Rachel didn't believe the news when she first heard it. She told the wizards from the DMLE that you were still locked in your office working."

All of the potions that she'd been forced to imbibe over the past two days by the damned Healers and her overprotective husband churned in her belly. She'd been so relieved to get Aberforth out of Level Eleven that she forgot an entire step of her plan. When they made it out, she was supposed to have Aberforth remain in Umbridge's office long enough for her to sneak back upstairs to her own. She was going to slip into the office the same way she'd slipped out. Then she was going to tell Rachel that she was going to give the incompetent Umbridge bitch a piece of her mind. That way, she had an alibi for the entire time she was actually downstairs. How could she have allowed the adrenaline racing through her entire body to get her off-course?

"They even checked your office. The door was still locked and yet, you weren't inside. How could that be?"

Hermione gathered her wits about her. Placing her most irritated expression on her face, she narrowed her eyes and glared.

"Rachel is an idiot. She wasn't paying attention when I left the office. Probably too busy daydreaming about you to even notice when I stepped out."

"Then why lock the door if you weren't in there?"

"I still had Theodore Nott's incident report laying on the desk. I didn't want just anyone to waltz in here and read what he told us. That wouldn't be good, would it?"

He wasn't convinced. Not in the slightest. But, it was a tactic of his she'd seen him employ over the years to pretend like he was. Hoping off of the edge of the desk, he returned to his side of the office.

"I suppose you're right about Rachel. She does tend to daydream."

For the rest of the day, Hermione continued to be sick to her stomach. Never was she more thankful to go back to her home in Hogsmeade and the protection her husband could offer.