August 4th

Ocean waves crashing against the rocks was a sound that Hermione was certain she would never tire of. Maybe she could convince her husband to run away with her to an island somewhere far away from their troubled homeland. It had been his suggestion once before. Thoughts of the vacation they spent in the Bermuda Triangle never failed to bring a flush to her cheeks. She wouldn't have minded recreating those days down to the very last detail. If that was her true desire, she didn't think it would take much persuasion to get Antonin to agree. He would do anything for her, including kill the Dark Lord.

Her body was well-rested when she allowed herself to finally wake up the morning after her last session with Mr. Akingbade. He'd been insistent that she swallow a potion to help her mind repair itself and rest. There had been no reason to argue. Not only had she grown to trust the wizard, no small feat in itself, she was exhausted. She hoped that there would never be another occasion necessary when her mind would need to be so thoroughly checked. Every glimpse caused a strain that was harder and harder to recover from. Too much messing about in her mind could cause even more damage.

She didn't know what was going to happen next. Hiding in Augustus' home forever was hardly an option. Every day since they arrived both her husband and her ex-lover disappeared for several hours at a time. When she would ask Antonin what they'd been up to, he was frustratingly vague. She didn't appreciate being left out of the loop. Though he understood, he assured her that there was simply not enough to tell. They were meeting in secret other potential allies.

Even with Rodolphus' attack on the Dolohov home with his cohorts, there had yet to be a grab for power. At least not officially. It was telling to a lot of the villagers still living in Hogsmeade that the Dolohovs were scared away. Hermione knew that it was a sign of weakness that they hadn't stayed to fight, but she didn't care. With her mind still healing from the disgusting charms, she wasn't at her full strength. She would be nothing but a liability to Antonin until she was ready. And they had their son to think of. Despite Rabastan's assurances that their son wouldn't be harmed if she chose to join their side, she didn't believe him. She'd witnessed him kill children just as easily as grown adults.

Movement next to her on the mattress forced her attention away from the ocean. Antonin was just waking up. Because she had been asleep drugged on the sleeping potion, she had no idea how long he'd been asleep. Based on the dark circles under his eyes, not long enough. He wasn't as young as he used to be. During the first war he was hardly more than a child. If he wasn't careful, his biggest opponent wouldn't even be another wizard. It would be his own aging body. Reaching across the small space between their bodies, he gently brushed a lock of her hair away from her forehead. He always seemed to be doing that. She didn't mind. It was comforting in its own way.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better."

"Mr. Akingbade said all of the charms were gone. Do you feel any differently?"

She shook her head. It had been a disappointment to not experience a noticeable difference. Briefly considering telling him about the trick the memory charms expert played on her with the faces of every person she ever killed, she stopped herself. Antonin knew just as well as she did about the power of being haunted by his victims. Maybe even more so. He spent almost fifteen years in Azkaban having the dementors continually feeding on his emotions. Only his own anger and bitterness over being caught kept him from losing his mind entirely. There were times that he had his own flashes of madness, but he'd had decades learning to control them.

"Maybe it'll take some time. I'm glad to know that Rodolphus can't control you any longer."

They hadn't really stopped to discuss all that she'd learned during her sessions. Not in great detail. Hermione knew that it wasn't easy for the proud wizard to hear details about an affair his wife had for years. Just as she never cared for the reminders that he was in his own extramarital long-term relationship with Andromeda Tonks. She hated the woman because she always felt so inadequate next to her, like he was continually judging her and she was falling short.

"I've never wanted to kill anyone as much as I want to kill him. What he did to you is… it's unconscionable. I can only imagine how you must feel."

"I don't really want to talk about him, Antonin. Not when we're in bed together."

His cheeks turned pink and he clenched his jaw. There was shame and embarrassment mixed in with his simmering rage.

"I used to suspect the two of you were more than just friends. The way you would both disappear together for a few minutes here and there during parties. How he managed to always get you assigned to him as his partner for missions. He was at our home a lot. I thought I was just being paranoid, but I wasn't, was I?"

"No, you weren't."

There was no reason to lie when he already knew the truth. He sighed, sadness etched across his handsome features. She longed to reach out to comfort him, but it felt wrong to do in that moment. Very few times in their marriage had they crossed over the barrier they silently set up regarding their affairs outside of their marital bed.

"Was it just because of the memory charms? Was he controlling you?"

It would've been too easy to blame Rodolphus' charms for all of the times that she gave her body over to the wizard for his use. But it wasn't true. As all of the memories of their relationship, if one could even call it that, trickled through the blocks on her mind the longer the spells were removed, she knew without a doubt that she'd gone to Rodolphus of her own will. Perhaps that was what made it feel all that much worse. He'd taken advantage of her when she'd already given herself over to him.

"No, it wasn't because of the memory charms. I always fancied him. From the first mission we had together. I think he knew that and used it against me."

The last flicker of hope in Antonin's eyes that she was having sex with a man other than her husband because she was being controlled and not because she didn't care about the man she married dissipated. She knew it hurt him. Hadn't she felt the same sting of pain every time she knew he was rushing off to London to be with Andromeda? Maybe she didn't love him as much as he loved her, but that didn't matter. It was still hurtful to know he preferred being with another woman.

"And there were others?"

"Antonin, let's not talk about this. All it's going to do make us both upset."

She was afraid he would start asking her questions about her time on the run. Had she had lovers in that year? If so, how many and who were they? Had she been with any other men since she returned to Hogsmeade and to their bed? If he allowed himself, Antonin would drive himself completely mad with the questions that he shouldn't have had to ask. As much of a shit mum she was, she was doubly and triply a shit wife. Maybe if they'd married for love it would've been different. She didn't know and it was too late to find out.

"I know about Rabastan. Everyone knows about him. His wife made sure of that. Did you ever… were you ever with both brothers at the same time?"

"Antonin!"

"It's a legitimate question, Hermione. I think as your husband I have every right to know."

"No. All right? No, I've never been with both of them at the same time. I stopped having multiple partners at once when the revels ended. Satisfied?"

Of course she agreed that he had every right to know whose bed she'd been in over the years. It was purely defensiveness that caused her to react so poorly to his questions. Why couldn't they just move on from their past? It was rocky and horrible and they both made mistakes.

"Based on how you went straight for Gus' room the night we first arrived, your stay here with him months ago wasn't innocent. I never suspected it was."

"Antonin…"

"And I know about Greyback, of course. Didn't want to believe that you were the one in his house that day last February. I chose not to believe it. Who wants to admit the bruised, naked woman tied up on the floor of a monster's bedroom is the mother of his child? Days later I was sick to my stomach, but I knew I had to go back and check to see if you were still there."

If she didn't change the subject, he would start asking about others she might have been with. As awful as she'd been at lying since she returned, she wasn't sure she would be able to convince him that there wasn't anyone else. He wouldn't rest until he uncovered her other lover. Even if she told him that it was some Muggle whose name she couldn't remember, he wouldn't believe her. Not entirely. She was afraid she would blurt out Draco's name. That was a complication they didn't need.

"You weren't exactly a faithful husband either, Antonin, so don't pretend like you're just some innocent victim."

"No, but at least I was more discreet than you were."

She couldn't resist laughing out loud at his remark. Half the country knew about his ongoing affair with Andromeda. She'd lost count the number of times she was informed by a concerned friend or acquaintance that he'd been seen entering Andromeda's shop in the dead of night long past the open store hours. And she'd seen how other women looked at him when they were at parties. Even Alecto. Though she might have claimed she hated the very ground that Antonin walked on, Hermione knew that her former friend would've taken Antonin to bed again in a second if the offer was made.

"Andromeda was no secret, Antonin. I am curious about the others though. Don't lie to me and tell me there weren't any."

"What does it matter?"

When he was the one whose actions were called into question, Antonin didn't appreciate the tone of the conversation. That was a tactic she often used when they were in the middle of a row. If she could figure out some way to turn it around on him, the argument would usually end up being a victory for her. Or at least he would get so frustrated that he would leave her alone. In that moment, she hoped that he would take the hint that she didn't want to keep fighting. They were out of practice. Everything had been so pleasant since their last big fight. Why was it necessary to ruin the rhythm they'd created with some meaningless discussion? Neither of them would be the winner in that case.

"You were the one who started this. Don't get mad at me. If you were so interested in whose bed I've been in, why can't I ask the same question of you?"

"Do you really want to know, Hermione?"

She nodded her head. Of course she did!

"Gemma Lestrange. Many, many times."

Hermione could feel her jaw drop open at his confession. While she knew that Antonin always made it a point to be polite and friendly to Rabastan's wife when they were doomed to all be at the same social gathering, she had no clue that there was anything happening between them. It wasn't much of a stretch to imagine that they sought comfort with each other because they both knew what their spouses were up to at the Ministry.

"When did that start?"

"Not long after you started fucking her husband. Seemed only fair."

If he was trying to get a rise out of her, she refused to allow him to be successful. They'd both made mistakes. Neither one of them had ever been perfect. Perhaps it was best that they get it all out in the open. Both of them had been holding on to their indiscretions for years. She knew that if there was any hope that one day they might be able to start over and make a true go of their marriage, and she wasn't sure yet if that was an option she would be willing to consider, they needed a fresh slate.

"Were there any others?"

"A few. None that meant anything. One even solely for information. You think women are the only ones who know how to manipulate their lovers?"

She stared at her husband, unsure what to even say. Was he admitting to having sex with a potential enemy? Who else would he need to get information from? And was it an enemy of his or of the regime? Maybe he had his own contact within the Resistance. Before she could ask him any further questions, Antonin threw the covers off of his body and rose to his feet. He didn't stay inside the safe house long after he was dressed.