August 3rd

Babajide Akingbade's time in Great Britain was always eventually going to come to an end. He had responsibilities, not just in Uganda where he taught at the Uagadou School of Magic, but other cases like Hermione's that took him all over the world. They'd been exceptionally fortunate that Alain knew him so well. Some people waited for years for his help. Hermione knew it was no small thing that he took a big risk sneaking into the country during such an uncertain and chaotic time. He could've easily been discovered, especially after putting himself in danger to protect her the night they had to run.

She didn't know how she was ever going to repay him for helping her take back her life. Knowing that she was no longer under control by a mad wizard opened up the possibilities for a brighter future, one she hadn't allowed herself to dream of. When she said as much to the memory charms expect, he smiled and patted her shoulder.

"A life well-lived would be payment enough for me. I want you to embrace your new beginnings. Maybe even search for the girl you used to be."

It wasn't an easy promise to make, but she did. For the first time in years she didn't look ahead with dread. Maybe there was some way she could move past the formidable Madam Dolohov persona she'd spent the better part of two decades cultivating. Antonin spoke once of desiring nothing more than to take his family and run away. That no longer sounded like the worst of fates to Hermione. Each day she was discovering something new about her husband that she liked or never knew thanks to the haze of her potions and the manipulations of her memories. Starting over in a new country far from the echoes and memories of the past was becoming a more and more attractive prospect.

Before he would make his final exit from her life, Mr. Akingbade insisted on one final session. His reason for coming to her house the night of the ambush was to make certain that all hints of enchantments were removed from her mind. In the aftermath of the Dolohov family being forced to relocate to Cornwall, he hadn't rushed to check her even though they were under the same roof. He would never admit so, but Hermione got the impression he waited for her son's benefit. Already struggling with the rapid upheaval of his world, Oliver clung to his uncle. Mr. Akingbade was kind enough to wait until Oliver wasn't so afraid.

Hermione joined him in the privacy of the small bedroom he'd been sleeping in since he was smuggled into the country only seconds after her husband murdered the Dark Lord. Few details of the operation to sneak him into the country were divulged. She wasn't sure she wanted to know. It would make her too nervous.

"I would like to check your mind thoroughly again, Hermione. Just like the first night we met. I need to take my time examining every corner I can."

It was a mark of pure trust that she allowed him in her mind at all. One didn't survive being a Death Eater as long as she had without learning to shield their mind at least a little. In his prime, Lord Voldemort relished digging through the thoughts of his loyal followers with his cruel, painful version of Legilimency. Instinct and self-preservation taught her to brush up on Occlumency. Though never as strong with that magic as she would've liked, Hermione knew enough to keep her alive for twenty years longer than most expected to her live. Dropping all barriers for Mr. Akingbade to take a peek inside went against all of her suspicious inclinations.

"Rodolphus said in one of my memories that he would return my memories to me one day. Does that mean he charmed some sort of trigger or switch into my mind?"

"It's very possible. Like I told you that first night, I've never seen a more complex and intricate network of memory charms. It was fascinating. Horrifying, but fascinating. I'm afraid that the only person who can tell you exactly what he did and why he did it is Mr. Lestrange himself."

She would probably die before she had all of the answers she wanted. Unless she was able to somehow trick Rodolphus into explaining himself, she wouldn't know why he used her as a pawn in his sick game. None of the possible answers to the 'why' brought her any sense of peace. It could be for anything. Part of her hoped she would have the opportunity to confront Rodolphus one day, but mostly she never wanted to see him again. He frightened her like no one else ever had before. She'd never been so vulnerable, so violated. What if he still had power over her? It was a fear she knew she would carry until one of them was dead.

"Now, please try to relax. This might take awhile."

Time had little meaning when the wizard moved around in her mind. She couldn't focus on anything but the gentle intrusion of feeling someone else inside her head with her. It was a sensation she was certain she would never get used to. Hours may have passed and she wouldn't know it.

The memories and images that flashed in her mind were impossible to follow. He moved too quickly through the individual cells of her battered brain. It was for the best that she couldn't focus too long on any of them. Many of them had been terrible. Every bloody, disgusting interrogation she'd ever conducted was locked away inside. How he could see the very worst of her crimes and never hesitate to smile at her or try to convince her she wasn't without hope was incredible. She was positive she wouldn't have enough faith in humanity to do the same to someone with as much blood on their hands.

As he continued to check for any missed memory charms or any mind control spells, a clear image came forward blocking out all others. Seared forever into her mind was the moment she stepped over the proverbial line in the sand to begin her journey through darkness. Not that she needed any help remembering that moment. Even with all of the rubbish Rodolphus put into her brain, she never forgot a single detail.

Oliver Wood stared at her from the cave he'd been trapped in. Such rage, such fury, such sadness in his eyes. His face was soon replaced by another face. Though she didn't know her name, she remembered the brutal manner she'd been killed. Antonin was teaching her how to prolong a victim's suffering, how to enjoy it and make it more memorable. Her face was replaced with another victim and then with another, another, another… Every life she'd ever been responsible for ending was remembered.

Some of them she would've repeated in a second. If Mr. Akingbade flinched when he saw how she murdered Walden Macnair, she couldn't tell. She also didn't feel any guilt for ending Theodore Nott Senior. Her only regret was that she wasn't able to kill him before he killed his own son. The world would've been a much better place to live in if Theo was still alive. With the inevitable changes coming with the Dark Lord's demise, he could've been beneficial to the rebuilding of a country they could once again be proud of. Others, like Salazar Selwyn and Amycus Carrow would've killed her if they had the chance. She didn't regret killing them before they had the opportunity. Never would she feel guilty about some of the difficult choices she made.

There were executions she carried out on behalf of the regime because it was expected of her. It was imperative to her survival that she carry them out as ordered. She wouldn't regret those. Survival wasn't always possible without getting one's hands dirty. She was no martyr. Hadn't she proven since she was in Hogwarts that she would do what was necessary to keep those she cared about and herself protected? Any refusal on her part would've ensured her death and the death of her family. Not even Antonin would've been spared. He would've made the perfect example. So no, she wouldn't regret those deaths by her hands. Even Andromeda's death had been necessary. If she'd told her husband her worst secret, she would've been dead. And her husband knew how to make it hurt. She wouldn't shed a single tear over that wretched bitch's death. If the roles had been reversed, Andromeda would've been just as brutal.

But there were others that she would change if she could. Ones that she almost hated Mr. Akingbade for reminding her of again. Those faces lingered longer than any of the others. Perhaps he could sense which ones she felt true regret for. Over and over again, Oliver Wood's face came into her mind. He was the first, the one that started it all. She should've made different choices. Countless deaths could've been avoided. Almost as quickly as the relentless flash of images of the ones she'd killed over the years assaulted her mind, they stopped. He slipped out of her head.

"Why would you show me all of… all of them?"

"You have the opportunity to turn away from the darkness, Hermione. Make something good of your life. You should never forget those you hurt. Seeing their faces should keep you from doing the same to someone else."

She didn't have the energy to argue that more than a few of her victims were justified. It was an argument that had no real winner. He was correct to an extent. At least she understood some of why he was willing to help her. The wizard wanted to do what he could to keep the notorious Madam Dolohov from hurting another innocent. If that was the price she had to pay to get his help with her memory charms, she would gladly pay it. Besides, it wasn't as if they didn't already haunt her nightmares.

"I can find no more traces of the spells that Mr. Lestrange cast in your mind. My examination was thorough. Even after eighty years there are still opportunities for me to improve, but I feel confident in saying that I've done all that I can."

"Thank you for all of your help, Mr. Akingbade."

"It was my pleasure. Just promise me that you will never forget those faces and that you will remember what I told you that day on the beach. You are not without hope. The girl you once were is still inside of you somewhere. It is up to you to find her again."

Alain and their guest departed the safe house for one final time late that night while she was asleep under the influence of a sleeping potion. Her mind needed rest after hours of examination. Just as Mr. Akingbade hoped, she saw the faces again in her dreams.