July 31st

Hermione sat at the table in the kitchen waiting for her husband to return home with a churning in her gut. Intuition told her to worry. Antonin left the protection of their home before the sun even rose that morning. An entire day and much of the night had come and gone with no word, no indication if he was alive or dead. It was clear that she would have to leave again the first real chance she had. Sitting around waiting to hear bad news was no way to live.

But, she had responsibilities she never considered before. Looking across the table at her son reading another one of his assigned books for the summer, she knew that she couldn't leave him again. Not on his own. Antonin was by far the better parent. That wasn't even up for debate. Anyone with half a brain cell could tell that. Maybe it was because unlike her, he desperately wanted to have children. She'd only done it because she was ordered by her master. Regardless of how she ended up with her son, they had to prepare themselves for the very real possibility that all they had was each other. No longer under the constant effects of the rage-inducing potion combined with the absence of Rodolphus' memory charms and control, Hermione felt more capable of caring for her son if the need arose. She would be better than nothing if she was the only parent he had left.

She tried to push that fear out of her head. It was doing nothing but making her more nervous and anxious. Oliver would be able to pick up on that. For his sake, she had to remain calm, had to stop dwelling on the worst possibilities. Her gut had led her astray before. It wasn't an exact method of divination. Not that one of those existed, of course. An entire branch of rubbish magic to be sure.

Just minutes before the sun went down Hermione heard a loud bark coming from the back garden. Startling her out of her thoughts, she couldn't move. Was it just her imagination or something much worse? Using any excuse to put his homework aside, Oliver jumped up from the table to look out the kitchen window. He moved too quickly for his mother to stop him.

"Mum, there's a big dog outside."

The barking resumed. Loud and insistent, she didn't even need to get up to know who it belonged to. In the past, she knew that that was a signal that her presence was requested. Perhaps that was one way in which he controlled her? Forced her to rush to him every time he barked? No, she decided. She couldn't imagine he would stoop to such embarrassing lows. Not even for her. When the sound grew louder and threatened to continue, she knew that she wouldn't be able to continue ignoring it. Rodolphus had always been insistent when he desired something.

"Take your book upstairs, Ollie. Go to your room and stay there."

Her son opened his mouth to argue, but one firm look from his mother made him shut it again. Experience taught him to take her seriously. She waited until she was certain she heard the click of his door shutting upstairs before she planned her next move. Rodolphus wouldn't go away until she spoke to him. Her recovered memories of him involved a number of moments where he proved that he was impatient and expected to be obeyed at every turn. Though no longer under the pull of his command, it felt strange to stand in her kitchen and not answer his call.

Antonin hadn't been joking when he made the remark that he would throw her out to the wolves if she put his son in danger again. That was no idle threat. As much as she might have once longed for an opportunity to anger him to the point that he wanted nothing to do with her, she knew that her feelings were different. Though she wanted far away from their world, the thought of going out there alone again wasn't nearly as appealing as it used to be. She was growing weary of her contradictory mind and thoughts. The hope that that infuriating aspect of her personality would be cured once the memory spells were removed from her mind was dashed. Maybe she would always be indecisive.

The barking stopped abruptly. She wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a terrifying one. Rodolphus wasn't known for being a forgiving man. Especially not when he was ignored. Hoping that he'd gone away, she jumped when the pounding on the back door began. She wasn't easily frightened. Nor was she weak. But the idea of facing down Rodolphus on her own filled her with a sense of dread that she couldn't shake. What if he wasn't by himself? This could be the beginning of the power struggle they were waiting for. She no longer had any doubts that the Lestrange brothers were working together towards the same purpose. Their faction could be making their move against Antonin by first taking out his family. Rabastan said it himself that she still had a great deal of influence whether she realized it or not. Maybe they were afraid of what she was capable of.

"I know you're in there, Hermione. Open up."

Rodolphus didn't sound angry. Perhaps slightly annoyed, but not angry. Once upon a time she thought she knew how to handle him when he was in a similar mood. Little did she know that he was always in control even when it didn't seem like it. Hearing his voice again after discovering what he'd done to her filled her with more dread than any other emotion. She wished Antonin was home. They made a good team. Being alone against a formidable enemy was never desirable.

She wished that she wasn't filled with the blackness that permeated every cell of her body. When she was younger, still the idealistic, naïve child who had no doubts that the Light would win the war, she was able to summon up the purest of magic to cast a patronus. A happy, carefree otter, if she remembered correctly. So many years had passed since she last saw it. The loss of all hope when Harry died initially robbed her of the required happiness to cast the tricky charm. And then when she became a Death Eater, pledged her life to the service of the Dark Lord, she might have felt joy, but she still wasn't able to cast the silvery otter. None of the Death Eaters, to her knowledge, were capable. Maybe one or two of the ones that hadn't allowed the Darkness to consume them. She wasn't certain. All she knew was that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't do it herself. In the safety of her kitchen, she tried again. If she could somehow get a message to Antonin… it was useless. Not even silvery mist came out of the end of her wand when she tried.

"What do you want, Rodolphus?"

Their voices weren't as clear speaking through the thick wood of the door, but she didn't trust the wizard not to harm her if she opened it. Protective wards could only hold so far. She remembered Antonin strengthening their doors with powerful magic in the wood itself many times over the years they lived together. The wards were stronger with the doors shut.

"Just to talk. Open the door, love."

"No. Go away."

"You should know that I didn't come alone."

She already suspected as much. Where was Antonin? What could he be off doing that was so important that he couldn't come home? He'd already promised her that their family was his number one priority. If that was true, why wasn't he there with her? She was capable of fighting if it came down to it, but she knew she was out of practice. Not just because she ran away for a year. Years in the Ministry where she didn't have to capture her victims made her weak, rusty. She didn't trust her abilities like she once did. And certainly not against a man who once was one of her teachers.

"Antonin's wards are effective, but he's not infallible. We can rip them down if necessary. But, I'd much rather we keep it civil, wouldn't you agree? There's no reason to scare your son."

The threat was unmistakable. He might not have come right out and declared what he would do to Oliver if she didn't prove willing to comply with his demands, but she knew. It wasn't the first time he held the safety of her child over her head. Likely, it wouldn't be the last either.

"Step outside this door and I give you my word as a Lestrange that no harm will come to little Ollie. I just want to talk."

"We're already talking."

"One minute, Hermione. I'll give you one minute before we start forcing our way inside."

His second threat was also impossible to miss. If she didn't comply, he would force his way inside and hurt her son. Or at the very least use him as leverage. As shit of a mum as she was, even she couldn't stand by and just watch Oliver be harmed. Antonin would have to forgive her for opening the door. Rodolphus didn't make threats that he didn't follow through on.

Gathering her strength, she tried to calm her rapidly beating heart before she opened the door. Rodolphus could smell fear and weakness. With nothing but a magical barrier between her and the wizard that manipulated her for years, Hermione felt powerless and afraid. What if he was able to curse her mind again? She'd been unable to stop him before. His broad smile didn't put her at ease whatsoever. Stepping quickly outside the back door, she rushed to renew the wards. She didn't want Oliver to be left completely undefended if something bad were to happen.

A quick survey of the back garden didn't reveal any of his companions. Either he'd been lying about not being alone or they were being careful to remain out of sight. Perhaps they weren't yet open enemies of her husband. Keeping their identities under wraps until the very last second would be the smarter move. She wished she knew who was out there so she could prepare herself for the fighting that was sure to come. Rodolphus didn't come just to talk to her. How addled did he think her brain was after all of his manipulations?

"I understand that you wished to see me. That you had some questions, was it?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about, Rodolphus. Afraid you've wasted a trip."

"A little owl told me that you were very angry with me. Something about that pretty little head of yours?"

He tapped the top of her head with his finger. The sickening feeling in her gut increased. Only one person knew that she was angry with Rodolphus, that she wanted to confront him about what he'd done to her. She'd confided only in … Draco. She fought the urge to laugh. Why would she have ever imagined for even a second that she could trust the wizard? Hadn't he proven that he hated her for almost thirty years? All of their tumbles in bed meant nothing. Even she'd gone to bed with people she loathed and didn't trust. No doubt Draco sought his uncle out to tell him everything.

"I'm very curious to know what it is you think I've done to you."

There was no opportunity to talk. Shouts of curses tore through the quiet night air. Light from spells illuminated the back garden. Everything happened so quickly that she couldn't even focus on who else might be out there with her, who might be on her side and who might be there to kill. It was evident almost immediately that one side was woefully outnumbered. A figure ran past her at full speed straight through the wards into her kitchen. She couldn't tell who it was. Her first instinct was to run inside, to protect her child. Unable to move even a single step forward, she was stopped by an arm wrapped tightly around her waist. The blast of a curse knocked Rodolphus off his feet, but she and her unexpected protector knew it wouldn't keep him down long.

"I've got you, Hermione. Let's get somewhere safe."

Mr. Akingbade's heavily accented voice calmed her down enough to keep her from panicking at the abrupt sensation of being Apparated away from her home.