August 2nd

Two days after what should've been Harry Potters thirty-eighth birthday, Hermione strolled down the beach near Augustus' house with her mind fixed on thoughts that she should've ignored. Living in the safe house with her husband, her ex-lover, her son, her brother-in-law, and kind Mr. Akingbade was already difficult. The house wasn't big enough for so many people, especially not when there was nowhere for them to go. All of them were stuck inside day and night. Only their host, it seemed, was able to slip out for a few hours at a time when the air grew too stifling. He was the only one who wasn't on the run or who hadn't been smuggled into the country. Of course, that didn't stop Antonin when it suited him to disappear too.

Hermione was grateful that Augustus opened his home to her family. That had been an enormous gesture, especially considering their rather rocky past. Recent events couldn't have helped his decision either. Less than four months passed since she first knocked on his front door in the middle of the night seeking sanctuary. She struggled to believe that so little time passed. The entire year seemed to be passing too quickly to keep up. What other horrific surprises did the year have in store for her? She was afraid to learn.

Most years she didn't even allow herself to think about Harry's birthday. It was too painful. Twenty years after his death, she still felt the pain. Maybe because she was expected to push it down and out of sight once she was taken from her broom cupboard. No one wanted to see that she mourned her best friend who was the ultimate enemy of their master, least of all the Dark Lord. She learned how to ignore him, how to forget her friend when it was convenient.

She hadn't even been aware of the date when Rodolphus showed up at her kitchen door. Since she was expected to remain home locked inside the enchantments, each day was very much like the next. There was no reason to keep track of the days. It wasn't until she caught a glimpse of the date on the morning's Daily Prophet sitting on top of Augustus' kitchen table he quickly snatched away that she realized another year had passed with her forgetting Harry's birthday.

Maybe it was ridiculous to dwell on the loss of her friend after so many years. There was nothing that anyone could do to bring him back. She had to keep moving forward, keep looking ahead. All dwelling on the past did was rob a person of their future. While she didn't have the first clue what to expect for the rest of her life, she knew there was no sense in thinking only of what couldn't be. Didn't people go mad doing that? She couldn't afford that. Too many years with her mind under control had taken their toll. Part of her feared that she wouldn't ever be fully back to normal again. Likely her mind was well and truly fried.

The first day living in Augustus' safe house had been more than a little awkward. Even something as simple as sharing a meal with all of the inhabitants, temporary and permanent, was fraught with frustration. Antonin assured her in the privacy of their bedroom that they wouldn't be there long. It was only ever supposed to be a place they went in case of emergency. Though neither of the wizards involved in the planning hoped that it would ever become a necessity, they were prepared. She spent more time than was healthy staying in bed staring out the window at the ocean beyond.

When the second day began, she was grateful that Antonin and Augustus both made their excuses to leave for a few hours. Her husband wanted to quietly meet with some of his allies to decide what his next moves would be. Where Augustus ran off to was a mystery. She only hoped that he wasn't about to betray them to the Resistance. Even with Aberforth freed from his cell in the Ministry and able to cause as much havoc as he pleased, she knew that the Dolohovs would never be admired or beloved by that subsection of the wizarding world. Part of her selfishly hoped that Antonin was using the time away to figure out how to smuggle his family out of the country, though she wasn't about to hold her breath in anticipation. But even if she was glad that they were gone, she also worried about them.

The men had only been gone for less than half an hour when she made the announcement to the wizards remaining in the safe house that she would be taking a long walk. No one stopped her. Their safe house was far enough away from the rest of civilization that it was unlikely anyone would even see her. And, if someone crossed her path, she did know how to take care of herself. The other night had been an anomaly. Rodolphus caught her off-guard. She couldn't afford to let that happen again. Next time she might not be so fortunate.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been outside staring at the ocean. A while. Standing next to the water always made her feel so small. There was a time that it frightened her, made her feel insignificant and weak. The sound of a throat softly being cleared steps away shook her out of her thoughts. She didn't expect it to be Mr. Akingbade. When their eyes met, he smiled warmly, dispelling any concerns that he was there to cause her harm. Hermione didn't realize until that moment how on edge she'd been. Nor did she know how long exactly she'd been feeling that way.

"I apologize for startling you. I called your name a few times."

"It's all right. I'm fine. I'm sorry I didn't hear you."

"You were deep in thought."

Hermione took a deep breath before speaking again. Though the man was a stranger only a short time earlier, he knew some of the darkest secrets she possessed. The fact that he was able to stand next to her with a smile instead of a curse was a miracle. She knew what kind of man he was. Nothing like the monster she'd allowed herself to become over the years. It had been a long time since she had anything close to a mentor. Something, perhaps the kindness, in his eyes made her feel like she could tell him whatever she desired. Maybe he would judge her when he eventually walked away, but not in that moment.

"I was thinking about my best friend Harry Potter. It was his birthday two days ago. I'd forgotten in all of the excitement."

"It's always difficult to reflect back on the missed birthdays of the ones we've lost."

"He would be so ashamed of the person I became."

She didn't mean to be so brutally honest right out of the gate. But, she reasoned with herself, did she really have to keep secrets from a man who'd already seen everything inside her head? There was likely no one else alive who knew more about what was inside her brain than Babajide Akingbade. Whether that was a fact that would later come back to bite her or not remained to be seen. She hoped that she could continue to trust the wizard.

"And do you not believe he would understand that some of that was out of your control? That between the memory charms placed on you against your will and the potions you became addicted to, you didn't become the person you intended?"

Though she appreciated him trying to be kind, she knew that wasn't the full truth. It would be too easy to blame brainwashing and potions on what happened to her to change her from the girl she once was. People changed. Sometimes it was as simple as that. When they got older and life became more difficult with its constant adversities and challenges, people were changed. It was ridiculous to assume that she would be the same person she was when she was in school. Even Harry would understand that growing up wasn't always a seamless process. His life was over too early and he'd faced enough changes himself. Some of the blame could be dropped at the feet of her memory charms, the potions, and even Antonin's efforts at reprogramming her thinking to be more favorable to the regime. Some of it. Not all.

"Antonin wasn't as effective at brainwashing me in the beginning as he thinks he was."

She smiled at Mr. Akingbade, glad to see that he wasn't completely horrified by her statement. They'd already established weeks earlier that she had something of a complicated relationship with her husband.

"I chose to become a Death Eater because I was tired of not having any power, of being weak. Antonin tried to talk me out of it. He didn't want me to have to experience the ugliness that came with being so enmeshed in the Inner Circle, but it was my choice. Not brainwashing. Over time, I bought into the lies of the regime because I chose to. I knew they were all bollocks, but I chose to ignore that because I had a purpose. I had power. It was easier to swallow my terrible choices by convincing myself I'd been brainwashed. I've known what I was doing all along. From the very beginning."

"And do you not believe these potions you became addicted to had anything to do with the change in your beliefs and even your personality?"

It was an honest question. One that she'd considered many times over the years, especially after she stopped swallowing them. The temptation was still there, but she was proud to admit that she hadn't had a single drop since the day she stabbed Antonin. Her time in Kingsley Shacklebolt's flat saw to that.

"Do you know why I first started taking them? Why I allowed Rabastan an opening to control me?" He shook his head. "Because I wanted to be numb. Because I wanted to forget what a coward I became. I'm not a good person. Maybe I was at one point in my life. I don't know. It was so long ago. But, I made the wrong decisions. Over and over again. I can never be that idealistic girl again. She died with Harry."

The feel of his strong hand tenderly squeezing her shoulder in support meant everything to her. Even after she'd told him the worst thoughts and fears she carried around about herself, he wasn't disgusted. She wouldn't have blamed him if he ran away in terror.

"What is that saying? 'Never say never', Hermione. You've already made remarkable progress. Maybe you'll find her inside of you again one day."

He left her to her thoughts moments later. Maybe he was right. Already she could feel a change in her since she returned from the run and especially after the charms were removed from her mind. She stopped herself before she could develop anything resembling hope. Her choices had already been made. Her deeds had already been completed. There was no coming back from her past. The day would come when she would burn for them.