July 29th

Seemingly in the exact moment that Antonin climbed out of the bed he'd been recuperating in, he made some excuse to go back out into the dangerous world. Hermione was still worried about him, worried about their family, worried about herself. He hadn't been able to shed much light on what was happening. She knew him well enough to know when he was lying, and he wasn't lying. Nothing was happening yet. The remainders of the deadly Death Eater Inner Circle were still floundering around in the absence of their master unsure what step to take next.

Antonin could've easily been the one to make the first step, to openly declare himself the Dark Lord's replacement. It would've been bloody and many would've been killed or captured, but at least they would've started to make progress with moving on from the 'tragedy' that was the loss of their deranged master. The very fact that he hadn't yet declared himself the Dark Lord was just further proof that he meant what he said that day they sat on their sofa in the lounge talking about the future. He had no desire to be the leader. Only his legitimate fears about the safety of his family kept him entertaining the insane idea.

Hermione wished that she was out there in the world, running away from the life she no longer wanted to be a part of. The desire to run had never left her heart. There simply had not been a good enough opportunity or time to do it yet. Learning that Rodolphus had been mucking about in her mind for years changed the game. She couldn't afford to run until she knew for certain that she wouldn't be dragged back into the nasty game the next time her path crossed the animagus'. Because she knew eventually it would. He would make certain of it. Until she had confirmation from the memory charms expert she had come to respect and admire, she wasn't going anywhere yet.

Being stuck in her home gave her ample time to think. Each morning she woke up from dreams flooded with repressed and blocked memories that for some reason or another, Rodolphus thought it important to shield her from. Most of them made very little sense. Meetings in dark alleys, drinks in the Leaky Cauldron, once a short trip across the Channel. She didn't know what any of it meant because she couldn't figure out the significance. Why was he blocking such inane events? Usually she would get frustrated and just give up thinking about it until she was calmer. All dwelling on it did was drive her even crazier than she already was and something told her that she didn't need any help with that.

Her biggest fear was that Rodolphus turned her into some sort of walking weapon that he could use at his convenience. She'd seen enough Muggle movies when she was a child about brainwashing and sleeper agents to fear that that was exactly what had been done to her. What was she capable of doing? She knew that what she'd committed of her own free will that she never forgot was bad enough. Was it possible that Rodolphus trained her to do much worse? The possibilities were endless and few of them were positive. Somehow she doubted that the wizard took the opportunity to mess with her mind so thoroughly just to turn her into a better gardener or a primary school teacher. There was nothing to gain for him unless it was bad.

She considered what Draco told her the night she pounded on the door his flat until he let her in. He'd been frustrated with her. What had she been thinking by going to him in the middle of the night and demanding that he take her right to the man that was responsible for her memory blocks? The truth of the matter was that she wasn't thinking at all. She was moving on pure adrenaline. Even if the Sorting Hat wanted to initially put her in Ravenclaw, she was placed in Gryffindor for a reason. In the heat of the moment, she often pushed aside logical thinking and analysis to run ahead into danger without much thought. Time and time again she'd done it, first in school and then after in the Dark Lord's forces. If she wanted to stay alive long enough to run off to her new life, she had to be more careful.

Antonin was still gone from their home when there was a distinctive knock on the back door just after sunset. She was given permission to adjust the wards protecting their home for one reason and only that one reason. Checking out the window that the two men standing just inside the shadows were the two she was allowed to grant entrance to, Hermione removed the wards only from the back door. There was a legitimate fear that someone might be watching their home and waiting for the moment when the two wizards arrived to make their attack upon the house. Her heart pounded in her chest up until the very moment she was able to close the door behind them and reapply the enchantments.

"Is my brother up and moving around again?"

Alain kissed Hermione's cheek with a wink as he'd done every single time they'd made a visit. Knowing that she wasn't entirely alone any longer put her at ease. While she could never be entirely certain where she stood personally with her brother-in-law, she knew that if it came down to it, she would have his magic to protect her son. The wizard was crazy about his nephew. More than once while they laid upstairs in their bed, the Dolohovs wondered aloud if they shouldn't send their son away with his uncle to Africa just until their world settled a bit. Each time they decided that that was a drastic option that they weren't ready for, but it helped to know they could.

"Yes, you know as well as I do how stubborn he is. He only let me keep him in bed for a single day."

Mr. Akingbade waited patiently for their conversation to conclude before he made the suggestion that they retreat upstairs for their session. There was still a great deal that he wanted to check in her mind before he declared her free from all of the charms. Even though it made her equally nervous, Hermione was anxious to have all traces of Rodolphus' magic out of her mind. Just the thought of knowing that he could've implanted something like a switch inside of her head was enough to encourage her to keep going with whatever other indignities awaited in their session.

"You have made remarkable progress, Hermione. I must confess that I wasn't so sure that we would be able to clear your mind so rapidly once I saw how intricate the network of spells was."

She didn't like hearing that he had his doubts about unraveling all of the lies inside of her head, but she could appreciate the man for not sugarcoating the ugly truth. Based on his observations and the age of some of her blocked memories, this had been a years-long endeavor by Rodolphus. It could have easily taken just as long, if not longer, to undo the damage he'd done. Once again she was thankful for the wizard her husband found to help. If it had been left up to her, Hermione was afraid that she might have gone the rest of her miserable life still confused and unsure of what was wrong with her.

"Your determination made all of the difference. Without your commitment and your desire, I wouldn't have been able to accomplish as much."

"Thank you for all of your help, Mr. Akingbade. I appreciate you helping me to get my mind back under my own control."

"It was my pleasure. I've also learned quite a bit from this experience that I'm sure I will be able to use to assist others in similar situations. Now, if you would please just relax your mind. I'm going to attempt to remove the remainder of the spells."

No blocked memories came rushing forth at his benevolent intrusion. Not even when she felt the familiar tugging at her mind. Much softer than previously when he was working to remove a specific block, she could feel a trickling in her mind, like a babbling brook tripping over stones. It was almost peaceful. The thoughts and memories in her mind were moving around as they were intended without the interference of the damned spells. Though the difference was subtle, she could tell it existed. When she felt Mr. Akingbade's gentle presence slip from her head, she almost lamented the loss.

"I believe I have everything taken care of now."

"You believe?"

"Yes, I cannot say for certain until your mind has had a few days to rest. I will want to check it again."

Somehow she thought she would feel much different than she did. Like it would instantly make her into another person complete with thoughts and feelings that didn't exist before. Through the entire process she had been holding out hope that she might feel more like the person she used to be when it was over. But, to her disappointment, it was evident that even without the spells removed from her mind, she was a completely different person than she had been before she was thrown into her broom cupboard.

"You must remember to be patient with yourself, Hermione. What you have been subjected to all of these years was inhumane and cruel. It may take some time before you start to feel exactly like yourself again, and it is also possible that you won't ever feel that way again."

She almost asked him how he could understand what she was thinking, but stopped herself. Of course he would know. Over the course of their sessions, he'd been in her mind more thoroughly than any other person ever had been before. Except maybe for Rodolphus. He might even know her better than she knew herself after his examinations and prodding. It was for that exact reason that she'd been so reluctant to have anyone test her mind before.

"I was able to test the third potion vial you gave me."

In all of the excitement of her sessions and what was happening in her life and outside her home, she'd almost forgotten that he'd been testing her potions. Once he gave her the assurance that Antonin's potions were simply there to help her, she'd tried to push away reminders of the illicit potion she took on her own to keep her numb to her life.

"And was there something unusual about it?"

"Like I've told you before, Hermione, I'm an old man. I've been fortunate to have many life experiences that most haven't. That includes being familiar with a number of potions that perhaps I shouldn't have been."

It wasn't a surprise that the former Supreme Mugwump was all but admitting to taking recreational potions before. Everyone had a past. Most, in Hermione's experience, dabbled at least a little in the illegal potions at some point.

"Your potion was a standard one that I'm familiar with, but I did notice some additional components to it that shouldn't have been there. With your brother-in-law's assistance, we were able to define what it was."

Alain could've qualified for his Potions Mastery if he ever stayed long enough in one country to try. It was something of a passion of his to construct and deconstruct potions. Like puzzles. Certainly he had more of a natural flair for it than his sister-in-law. If it wasn't written out in a book, she struggled. That was an embarrassing lesson she learned in Professor Slughorn's advanced potions class.

"The vial contained traces of a highly addictive rage potion, Hermione. And a… ahem, mild lust potion. One that can cause insanity with long-term use."

She wasn't surprised to learn that the potion had been adulterated. Maybe she always suspected that it had. To know it was a rage inducing potion made even more sense. It would certainly explain her increased violence over the years and how she used to lose her temper so easily and thoroughly when she took them. It also explained her increased sexual appetites. Though she'd never been one of those prudish women who blushed at the mere mention of the sexual act, she used to be much more reserved. Since she stopped taking the potions, she'd been much more mellow than she could remember being for years. It also made sense that Rabastan would want her to keep drinking them if it led to eventual insanity. When she stopped to think about it, she couldn't recall Rabastan ever drinking from the same vial she did. It all made perfect sense. The only question that remained was why?