July 7th

There was no reason to argue with Hermione about the benefits of staying in bed Saturday morning. She could sense that her husband was pleased with her decision to take it easy and allow her body to finish healing. After her terrible day at the Ministry on Friday where she never knew if Rabastan was going to drag her down to her own private cell on Level Eleven or not, she was never more relieved than when she was able to crawl into the safety of her own bed. Knowing that Antonin was nearby and willing to fight to the death for her protection allowed her the peace of mind required to drink a potion to help her sleep.

When the sun was up and the potion's effects wore off, she still didn't want to get up. It hurt her pride to admit even to herself that she was terrified. She was afraid of what would happen next. All of her planning and preparations had been for nothing because she made one silly, stupid mistake. Once upon a time her mind was well-ordered. How else could she have gotten to all of her lessons in her third year? Of course she was perpetually exhausted that year and never felt like she was ever doing her best work, but still, she was able to keep her grueling schedule in order.

There was no sense continuing to beat herself up for her mistake. It was done. Rabastan knew that something was up. Even if he didn't know all of the details it wouldn't be long before Aberforth's escape was uncovered and all of the dots were connected. Maybe she should just forget about checking to be sure the Resistance leader was successful in getting back to his allies and just run. She knew where the invisibility cloak was. If she waited for Antonin to leave the house, she could steal it again. Assuming, of course, that he hadn't moved it since learning she knew of its existence in their basement. But, she'd been able to get by on her own for a year without it before. It was possible.

It was tempting to swallow one of the potions that sat in the drawer in the bathroom for her use. Years of her life had already been spent being entirely dependent on some kind of magical potion or another to get her through the treacherous days. What would be the harm in taking one more? She no longer believed that Antonin was going to hurt her or try to control her with the potions. Why she ever thought that in the first place was unclear. He'd been in love with her for almost twenty years since the first days of her training and reprogramming. Though he would never come right out and admit that was true, she knew. She'd always known. That was why she took such pleasure in being cruel to him over the years, rubbing her lovers in his face when she knew how he felt. Some days she wished she could go back in time to make better decisions, be a better person. She'd been unfair to him for years.

Almost as if she summoned him to their room simply by thinking of him, Antonin quietly pushed the door open to their bedroom. He entered the room slowly, afraid that he was going to wake her up. When he saw that she was already awake and staring at him, he relaxed.

"Are you hungry?"

She only had enough energy to shake her head. He crossed the room to his side of the bed. Without asking for an invitation, Antonin climbed in behind her, wrapping his arms around her body. It felt wonderful to have his support at her back. She could feel a subtle lessening of the fear gripping her when he was around. Maybe it was manipulative to use his feelings for her own benefit, but she didn't care. Even though she was plotting to run away and leave the man forever, she couldn't deny that it just felt nice to be in his arms when she was scared. She took a deep breath, relaxing.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right. Just tired."

Antonin kissed the back of her head. Neither of them said anything for several minutes. It was pleasant to just enjoy the presence of the other. Over the years there had been so few times that she actually appreciated the calm she usually felt in her home. Whatever was wrong with her memories robbed her of that comfort. As much as it terrified her to learn that there was something messed up inside her brain, she was gradually coming to the realization that it was better to know than not to know.

Some days she wondered if there was ever a more contradictory person than Hermione Granger Dolohov. Surely it was further evidence of madness that she was always changing her mind. She was the bad stereotype of a woman who couldn't make a decision and stick with it, except in her case it was much more serious. She loathed her husband in one moment, took comfort from him in the next. Wished her son had never been born one day and then couldn't imagine her life without him another. She would want to run as far away from her home as she could and then she would want to stay there forever. One second she didn't want to know what was wrong with her, the next second it was all she could do to keep from seeking out every single specialist she knew. It was a wonder she hadn't blown up with all of the indecisiveness. Or that Antonin hadn't snapped and strangled her yet.

"Have you heard anything from your brother about a memory charms expert yet?"

She felt Antonin stiffen ever so slightly at her question. His reaction only lasted a moment. Loosening back up, he kissed her head again.

"Alain knows a wizard who could help. He owled me yesterday."

"Someone foreign?"

"Most definitely. But whether or not he is neutral is what Alain is still trying to figure out."

Hermione gently rolled over so they were face to face. She was curious about the mysterious wizard. Her brother-in-law, her favorite of all of Antonin's brothers if there had been a contest, had been traveling the world since he left Hogwarts a couple of years after Antonin. Smart enough to not get involved with Lord Voldemort during the wars and after, he never spent more than a few years in any one place. Wizarding schools around the world often invited him to stay for a term or two to be a visiting professor. It always sounded like a fascinating life to Hermione. She enjoyed Alain's all-too-infrequent visits back to his home country.

"Who is it?"

"Babajide Akingbade. He's been teaching at Uagadou School of Magic since he was voted out of office."

International diplomacy had never been one of Hermione's interests. She knew enough to get by, of course, but usually when she heard others discuss what was happening outside of the borders of their country, she grew bored. Wasn't there enough to worry about right there? But, even she remembered the scandal involving the former Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. A graduate of the Ugandan school of wizardry, Akingbade was well-respected enough to be elected into the position left open following Albus Dumbledore's death. When he made a public speech declaring Lord Voldemort returned, the British Ministry of Magic didn't appreciate it. Thanks to their votes within the International Confederation of Wizards, he had the dishonor of being the shortest serving Supreme Mugwump in history. He'd disappeared from the public eye for a few years before being offered a position within his former school, Uagadou.

"I thought he was banned from entering the country."

"He was. That's part of the problem. If he even agrees to meet with us after learning who we are, he's going to have to be smuggled into the country."

"How? Our borders are very secure. I should know."

Antonin sighed, but didn't respond any further to the reminder that she was once a fugitive. It was a sore subject. Maybe one day he would forgive her for running… just in time for her to run away again.

"Yes, it'll be difficult. But not impossible."

"Yes, but how?"

"A big enough distraction will need to be created to get the focus off of the borders for a short time. Just long enough for him to slip in. Smuggling him out will be much easier."

She thought it all sounded like a terrible idea. The wizard might have been a memory charms expert, but he was also a vocal opponent of their master. If he learned that they were essentially the right-hand man and prized pet of the Dark Lord, he'd probably tell her brother-in-law to bugger off. Not that either of them would blame him. He would be in danger if he chose to help them.

"What kind of distraction?"

It would have to be enormous. Much bigger than whatever it was that Kingsley pulled off days earlier. She could only imagine what he had in mind. Instead of answering her question, Antonin simply kissed her lips and promised her that she didn't have to worry about it. As much as she usually hated being brushed off with a patronizing remark, in that instance, she didn't mind. At least he wasn't asking her to get involved in yet another mission that might get her killed. She had enough to worry about with Rabastan.

"Now… can we talk about why you took the invisibility cloak the other day?"

Of course it was going to eventually come up. She knew it would.

"Can we also talk about how you came to have it in your possession in the first place, Antonin?"

"Yes, we can. After you tell me why you took it with you to the Ministry."

"I was trying to see if I could listen in on one of Rabastan's private conversations. Thought they might tell me something we would both be interested in hearing."

The lie easily dripped from her tongue. While it was certainly believable, she wasn't convinced that her husband agreed. He stared at her for a few moments. She grew worried. Maybe her ability to lie was something she lost somewhere on the run. No one appeared to believe any of the ones she told lately.

"All right." Antonin didn't push the issue any further. "As for where I got it? I stole it from the Dark Lord."

After twenty years of knowing the man, thirteen of them quite intimately, she shouldn't have been surprised by anything he said or did. That, however, was a massive shock. He was playing with his life in his hands. If the Dark Lord discovered the theft, he wouldn't hesitate to kill him, right-hand or no.

"Why?"

"Seemed like it would come in handy. And it has."

"Antonin…"

"And honestly, I thought it would be something you would like to have. A reminder of your youth and your friend. So many of the stories you told me about your school years involved the cloak. I thought you would want it."

He kissed her cheek and brushed away the tears that began to fall. Maybe he was manipulating her, she wasn't sure. But, if he wasn't, his reason for stealing the invisibility cloak meant the world to her.