August 16th

Alecto was in no hurry to leave. Especially not after Augustus brought out a bottle of his best fire whiskey. Not for the first time Hermione wondered what the wizarding world's obsession with that horrid drink was. There were other liquors available after all. One didn't have to suffer the misery of scalded insides just to get intoxicated. But, as with a number of other aspects of their antiquated society, what was good enough for their ancestors was good enough for them.

It was after midnight already and their unwanted guest was making herself right at home next to Augustus on his sofa. At least there were two beds in Oliver's room. If it became necessary, they could sleep in the extra. Hermione desperately hoped that wouldn't happen. If Alecto stayed that long, it would mean that she and Augustus… no, she refused to allow her mind to travel down that road.

"So I guess it was Alecto who dropped by when your brother and Mr. Akingbade were staying here?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it was. She's been making quite a nuisance of herself for awhile now. Gus had to tell her the secret about his house just to keep her from being too suspicious."

"What does she want with Augie?"

Antonin stared at her with a single raised eyebrow like she'd spoken to him in a language he didn't understand. Finally, he chuckled when he saw she was not amused.

"She came to his house in the middle of the night, love. Said she was disappointed that he showered without her. What on earth do you think she wants?"

"There's no reason to be condescending. I just never realized she was interested in Augie. She never said anything to me."

"Based on what you told me about your suspicions that she was working with Rodolphus all along, I'm not surprised. She's been a real snake in the grass, hasn't she?"

Hermione understood how much Antonin wanted to blurt out that he told her so when it came to her former friendship with the wretched witch downstairs. For years, he'd warned her that Alecto couldn't be trusted, that she was using Hermione for her own purposes. Out of her own anger, Hermione refused to listen to his warnings. There were few enough people in their social circles that wanted anything to with the "Dark Lord's Mudblood Bitch" that she wanted to believe she'd found a true friend. It had been naïve and foolish certainly, but it was the truth. She'd been desperate for friendship.

"Gus has been getting information from her. Apparently, she likes to talk after…" He cleared his throat. "…she's been thoroughly satisfied."

"I could've told you that."

He raised a single eyebrow again, curious to hear more.

"Oh, really? And how do you know that?"

She playfully swatted his arm making him laugh. It seemed that no matter how old certain men grew, they'd never fully mature. Or at least they enjoyed taking their minds on frequent trips to the gutter. Antonin's laugh threatened to make her laugh too, but she was able to control herself.

"Has Augie learned anything useful? I'd hate for him to have to endure this for nothing."

"Yeah, I don't think he's had to endure much."

Gesturing to the window with his head, Hermione looked out again to see what he was referring too. Alecto had Augustus pressed up against the back of his sofa as she straddled his hips. She was thankful that the sound from downstairs was slightly muffled. She didn't want to hear the smacks of their kisses and the moans any better than she already could. Augustus' dressing gown was partially open, proving that he used the time it took them to run up the stairs to undress completely and soak his hair in an effort to make his lie about the shower seem convincing.

It felt wrong to keep watching what was happening below. Augustus had to have known that they were able to see all they were doing. Maybe he expected them to walk away from the hidden window or it was always possible that he simply didn't care what they witnessed. Some people enjoyed a little bit of exhibitionism every now and again. Just because he'd never shown that side to her before didn't mean it was non-existent. She was beginning to understand that maybe she didn't know people as well as she thought she did, herself included.

Antonin moved to stand entirely behind her, his chest pressed up against her back. With the benefit of his height, he was able to see easily over her head. It still felt wrong watching even if Hermione found it difficult to look away. Watching others together had never been one of her interests, not even in the midst of the most debauched of dark revels from years earlier. She'd always preferred to be an active participant, let others watch her, but she couldn't deny the appeal of being on the other side.

"We shouldn't be watching this, Antonin. It's wrong."

The feel of his breath just outside her ear forced a shiver out of her body that she didn't expect. He lightly kissed the sensitive skin just under her earlobe, creating another throaty moan that burst out. What was he doing to her?

"I remember a time when you didn't seem to mind when others watched you while you were with other men."

Both of their minds must have traveled back in time to those nights when the Dark Lord allowed them to indulge in all of the pleasures the young regime had to offer. Before they were all ordered to marry and become respectable members of their new society, he allowed them the freedom to act out their most thrilling fantasies. Blood was certainly shed those nights, but none of them minded. Nothing made a Death Eater feel more alive than seeing the light dim in their victims' eyes. Hermione fell under that spell more times than she wanted to recall. While she might have been acting under the influence of her favorite illicit potions, she knew that to show that she was the least bit squeamish around the worst of the atrocities would only make her seem weak in the eyes of the others who didn't want her there. Mudbloods weren't allowed to have respectable positions within the regime. If she hadn't been the Dark Lord's personal pet, she would've been relegated to the bottom rungs of their society. As Theodore Nott once told her, she would be the entertainment, not a willing participant.

Violence was by no means the only activity during their revels. Thanks to the mixture of potions, alcohol and the high emotions from their successful raids and missions, it was usually only a matter of time before those who remained descended into the baser, more primitive acts of self-expression. She knew there were plenty of people from her past who would look down on her actions as being disgusting, but she didn't care. It was how she stayed alive, how she cultivated alliances, how she determined who would aid her in her quest to endure. All of it was simply one long game of survival. If it also helped to scratch some of her biological itches, that was simply an added bonus.

"I always wondered why you never joined in. You could've, you know. I wouldn't have pushed you away."

"Because I'm a very jealous man. I've never wanted to share you with anyone."

"I used to wish you would. Maybe that's why I always tried to make you jealous. I wanted you to want me."

"I've always wanted you, my love. Always."

His hand slipped beneath the waistband of her trousers, dipping underneath her knickers. He had a purpose, a goal to reach. Temporarily lost in the anticipation of the touches she knew were about to come, she tensed and grabbed his wrist. Antonin removed his lips from her neck.

"Ollie is asleep just over there, Antonin. What if he wakes up and sees us?"

"He can't see us. Look behind you."

Her husband's deep voice alone was almost enough to get her to throw caution to the wind. But, her good senses prevailed. Spinning around to see where her son still slept, all Hermione saw was a thick wall of smoke. When her eyes were closed and she was focused on nothing more than the feel of his lips and the touch of his fingertips, he'd been silently conjuring a privacy screen. She chuckled. Some of his tricks were old, yet effective.

"I remember when you conjured the smoke when we were in the tent during the Quidditch World Cup."

"Little Ollie had no idea the sorts of depraved acts his papa was engaged in with his mum's firm, willing body just a bunk away. He slept right through it."

"Up until the moment we broke the bunk! Remember trying to explain to a five year old why there was a loud crash while he was sleeping? I thought we'd never get him back to sleep. I blame Thorfinn for telling those horrible ghost stories around the campfire right before bed. We should've sent Ollie to their tent to get him to calm down."

Antonin's quiet chuckles made her smile. It had been a fun trip. She always enjoyed camping with her wizards. Even in the midst of the most stressful times of their marriage, they'd had some good times together. Memorable times too. The moments when the Dolohovs felt like a real family brought her more joy than she ever expected.

"I miss that tent. Whatever happened to it?"

"I'm afraid I lost it."

She couldn't tell him the real truth about their beloved family tent. It was likely still somewhere within the Resistance's village being plundered by that horrible William Wood. If he had to have one of her possessions to make Draco's tracking spell work, she didn't doubt they came out of the tent she used to share with her family. Maybe it was silly to miss a possession that could easily be replaced, but she did.

"Ollie's bed is circled in silencing spells and if we stay off the other bed, we don't have to worry about breaking it. The smoke shields us from view."

"You are a terrible man."

His laughter tickled the bare skin of her neck. Needing something to focus on other than the feel of his mouth against her skin and his hand returning to her knickers, Hermione returned her attention to the action downstairs that she could see in the small window. No longer only partially open, Augustus' dressing gown hid nothing from their view. Alecto knelt on the floor between his legs, licking every centimeter she could, holding him deeply in her throat. At the feel of Antonin's fingers sliding through her slick folds, Hermione gasped. She hadn't realized she was already so sensitive, already so eager for the feel of his touch. Knowing exactly where to apply pressure to morph her gasp into a deep throaty moan, her husband didn't waste a moment in plucking her primed body like a finely tuned instrument.

It was tempting to close her eyes to focus only on the sensations in her own body, but she couldn't look away from the scene down in the lounge. Augustus' eyes flicked up to the part of the wall he knew the hidden window would be. Instead of turning away to look back at the witch on her knees in front of him, he stared, unblinking, right in Hermione's direction. The intensity of the look drew goosebumps all over her flesh.

"He knows we're watching him and he doesn't care. He's imagining that the mouth on his cock is your sweet, little mouth, my love."

Somehow Antonin's commentary made the whole experience much more exciting. She knew there was truth in his statement. Why else would Augustus stare up in the very direction that he knew she was in? It wasn't a coincidence. Antonin increased his pressure, ripping a leg-trembling orgasm out of his distracted wife. Silencing spells or no, she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. What they were doing all felt very, very wrong. Surely they should give the other couple their privacy. Pretend like they weren't aware of what was happening downstairs and go to bed. To sleep, nothing more. At the same moment that Augustus was pulling Alecto up off her knees to encourage her to climb onto his lap, Antonin pushed Hermione's clothes down over her hips until they fell to her ankles.

"The cunt he's dreaming about right now isn't hers. Its yours."

Augustus' eyes didn't leave the space he knew he was being watched. Even as he guided Alecto up and down with his hands on her hips, his focus was where he knew Hermione was. While she stared, Antonin invaded her own body inch by delicious inch. Fully inside her, his right hand snaked around her front to gently grasp her throat. Holding steady and not moving despite both of them desiring nothing more, her husband whispered into her ear.

"I never joined in because I never wanted to share you. I wanted you and only you. That hasn't changed. You're still the only one I want."

He matched his pace to the pace set downstairs. Whether that was intentional or not was unclear. Not that it mattered. They each found their release shortly after they began. No longer interested in what was happening below them and certain that they would be informed of any new information gathered by their host the next day, Hermione and Antonin fell asleep in the empty bed long before their unwelcome guest took her leave.