July 16th

Despite spending most of the day outside of the protection of their home's wards facing the chaos of their new world, Antonin returned to Hogsmeade in time to cook dinner for his family. As Hermione watched him stand at the cooker preparing a simple meal, she found it strange that he would make the time to do something so mundane. Even more so than she already felt, she knew that her husband wasn't cut out to be the next Dark Lord. He found too much joy and fulfillment in the basic acts. She knew that if given the opportunity to leave with his family and never return, he wouldn't hesitate. Perhaps, she decided, it wouldn't be the worst fate imaginable if when she ran away from the stresses of their world that her family came with her.

Almost as soon as she allowed the traitorous thought to flicker through her mind, she brushed it away. That was madness talking, not logic and reason. Antonin wouldn't give up the responsibility of becoming the next Dark Lord because he didn't trust anyone else in the world like he trusted himself. If there was anyone else he thought might do a better job, she knew that he would support them in their endeavor. But, as he'd already made it quite clear over and over again, he didn't trust anyone else with the duty. Not with his family still alive and looking to him for protection. Besides, she didn't want the millstone of her husband and son, two people she never wanted in her life to begin with, hanging around her neck.

The Dolohovs consumed their evening meal in almost complete silence. Oliver understood without even being given most of the details that what was happening outside was serious. To be honest, Hermione had been surprised that he hadn't been asking her dozens of questions. It was what she would've done in his place after all. Just when she thought that he was about to burst in his curiosity, a single look from his father would keep him from asking. While she knew that Antonin was doing what he thought was best to keep their child from being afraid, Hermione thought that he deserved to know at least a little bit of what was happening. He was in danger too, after all. That was a discussion they could have in the privacy of their own bedroom at a later date.

Sunset in mid-July didn't usually occur until almost ten o'clock in the evening. It was Hermione's least favorite time of year. Somehow it seemed wrong that there was daylight for so many hours a day, especially when she was unable to leave the confines of her home. Sheer boredom encouraged her to stand at the sink helping Antonin with the dishes. Something was going to have to change soon. She was starting to feel like she did in the Resistance's village in Devon. There had been nothing to do there but stare at the canvas walls of her tent.

Even though it was nearly nine, the back garden was light enough that she was able to make out some movement amongst the hedges. Thinking at first that it was just another bird, she didn't pay it much mind until it happened again. Was Rodolphus returning for another visit? It would be foolish to do so with Antonin home. Thanks to the overactive imagination she'd developed over the years due to constant vigilance and paranoia, she thought it was also possible that there was someone who meant her family harm waiting just past her husband's vegetable garden. Considering they were very likely on the verge of another war, that wasn't an idle threat. She gently grasped her husband's forearm, encouraging him without words to stop the scrubbing of the plate in his hands.

"Antonin, I think there's someone out there."

That was all he needed to spur into action.

"Ollie, go up to your room and lock the door."

"But, Papa, you said…"

"Oliver… now."

He might have gone with a grumble, but their son left the room when he was told a second time. Antonin set the plate back into the soapy water, grabbing the dry hand towel Hermione offered. She had her wand already in her hands, ready to defend her home, if required. As much as she hoped that she wouldn't have to fight in another war, she would do what was necessary. Even a shit mum would fight for their child.

"I'm going to lift the wards just long enough to go see what's out there."

"By yourself? What if it's more than you can handle?"

"Then you go upstairs, grab Ollie, and disable all of the wards so you can disapparate you both out of here to somewhere safe. Go to… go to Cornwall, if you have to."

To suggest that she and their son seek refuge with her ex-lover was no small gesture for Antonin. The words must have tasted bitter on his tongue. Hermione stood at the backdoor waiting for the moment their world could potentially come crashing down around them. Her husband slipped out of the door into the back garden hardly making a sound. Years of experience skulking around dark alleyways gave him an advantage over most. She watched him through the tiny window next to the door, hoping that she wasn't about to be forced to run too.

Time went by slowly. What likely only lasted a minute or so felt like much longer. She witnessed a struggle in the hedges with Antonin throwing his body forcefully at the intruder. No spells lit up the night sky that she could tell, but the sun wasn't completely dark yet. When she didn't see Antonin immediately return, she worried that she would need to go upstairs to Ollie. Before she could make a single step, three forms appeared from behind the hedges surrounding her husband's vegetables. One was unmistakably her husband. Leading the other two across the garden, he didn't appear to be in any distress. The tall, regal man dressed in the traditional African wizarding robes calmly walking behind Antonin was a complete stranger. She wasn't able to see the face of the third wizard until her brother-in-law was standing inside her kitchen.

Alain Dolohov entered the backdoor clutching his right eye. A close inspection of it by his sister-in-law proved that he had the beginnings of a fine black eye. The brothers might have cared about each other, but they could be violent when necessary. No doubt Antonin saw his younger brother sneaking into his back garden as a perfectly acceptable reason to practice the Muggle brawling techniques of their youth.

"If I'd known what kind of greeting we were going to get, I'm not sure I would've come so far."

"You were supposed to wait until I came to get you, Alain. Why aren't you ever able to follow simple instructions?"

A wink from her brother-in-law's uninjured eye proved to Hermione that he wasn't as upset about his older brother's unconventional greeting as it seemed. She just rolled her eyes and accepted the kiss to her cheek he offered. It was impossible to tell the two men were brothers just by looking at them. Alain's blue eyes were nothing like Antonin's dark brown. His hair was much lighter and the beard that was growing on his face was a deep auburn instead of Antonin's raven. It was common knowledge that their mother wasn't faithful to her Russian husband, but Vadim Dolohov never questioned the paternity of any of his sons publicly. He was able to take advantage of his wife's high status. What did it matter if the younger sons weren't his?

"Hermione, darling, you are looking well. How long has it been since we last saw each other?"

"Two years? Three? I can't keep track."

"It's been too long. But, no matter, I'm here now and I've brought a very dear friend and colleague with me."

She appreciated that neither Alain nor Babajide Akingbade made too much of the fact that they were there because she was struggling with her memory and other mental faculties. Within moments of meeting the former Supreme Mugwump, Hermione felt entirely at ease in his presence. From the minute Antonin informed her that he was bringing in an expert, she'd been nervous. What if she didn't like the person who came? It would be impossible to trust a complete stranger to root around in her brain if she didn't like them. One smile was all it took. This was a wizard that even Albus Dumbledore trusted once upon a time. She might have had her issues with how Dumbledore ran his school and how he treated Harry, but if he could trust Mr. Akingbade, Hermione could too.

"Why did you come tonight? It's not even dark outside yet."

"I must take the blame for this unexpected visit, Mr. Dolohov. Your brother insisted that we wait, but I was the impatient one. I've been anxious to meet with Mrs. Dolohov since I heard about what happened at the funeral."

Hermione's cheeks burned with shame at the reminder. She knew that for this entire process to be successful she would have to share much more personal memories and thoughts with the wizard, but it was still embarrassing. To try to break up some of the tension and awkwardness, she asked the wizards where they'd been staying since they arrived. Neither one of them would answer, waving it off as not being important.

"I would like to get started, if you don't mind, Mrs. Dolohov."

"Hermione, please."

"All right. Is there somewhere quiet we can speak in private, Hermione?"

Antonin didn't like the idea of his wife being alone with a complete stranger. Especially not after she'd already proven publicly how vulnerable she was. When she suggested her old attic bedroom, her husband wanted to come with them. Only after Mr. Akingbade insisted that it was imperative that they have no distractions did he relent. Alain made his excuses to check on his nephew. Likely he didn't want to spend any longer with his older brother than was absolutely necessary. Not that Hermione could blame him. Theirs wasn't the easiest of relationships to begin with.

She couldn't remember the last time she entered the attic room she used to spend her nights when she was still training. Years, probably. Once Antonin was no longer required to train any other future Death Eaters, there was no reason to enter. It became just another storage room for the junk that was accumulated over the years. A wave of her wand when they first entered cleared away most of the dust. Babajide Akingbade took the old, rickety chair while she sat on the bed.

"I know a little bit about your history, Hermione, but I would like you to tell me more."

It was awkward at first to give the man a rundown of all of the experiences she could remember having, but there was something about him that put her at ease. Soon she didn't feel the same shame. The words tumbled out of her mouth at a rapid pace.

"Now, if you will allow me, I would like to look deep inside your mind."

Decades of constant fear of having someone use Legilimency against her went to war with his request. She could feel her mind resisting the intrusion. Even after he gave her a detailed explanation of the sort of magic he was using to peer into her mind, Hermione worried that she would frighten him away. No one else knew what was in her brain. What if he took one look and decided that she was too evil to help?

"Hermione, I know we only just met and this must be very difficult for you, but I need you to understand that I mean you no harm. If you can't trust me even just a little, this won't work. We will just be wasting our time."

So unlike the intrusion she felt the first time the Dark Lord peered into her mind, Mr. Akingbade's perusal was much gentler. She could feel that there was no intent to harm with his actions. Memories and thoughts swirled to the surface in a dizzying maelstrom of colors. Impossible to focus on a single one, she didn't understand what he was looking at. She was out of her depth when it came to memory charms. She should've never performed one on anyone, let alone her parents. Almost as soon as he began looking, the wizard stopped.

"I am almost one hundred years old, Hermione. For the past eighty years I've been traveling the world learning about memory charms and seen thousands of people afflicted by this harsh magic."

No longer was Hermione at ease with the wizard. Every single word he spoke made her more and more anxious. She knew it was bad before he uttered the sentence that she'd been dreading.

"I have never seen a more intricate web of memory spells than what I've seen inside your head."