August 19th

The feel of the mattress dipping down beside her woke Hermione out of a deep sleep. It was very late or maybe very early. When she turned over to look at her freshly showered husband try to settle in carefully under the covers, Antonin cursed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's all right."

And she meant it. While she wasn't yet to the point where she was comfortable pointing out to the man she married that she was generally more relaxed and secure when she knew he was nearby, she was. Out of fear that he might take what she said as a hope that she wanted nothing more than a future with him, she didn't feel comfortable telling him that she only truly felt safe when he was next to her. How else could the man take such a statement? Besides, she didn't mind being pulled from her dreams. Every night since the last of the charms were removed she'd been so inundated with images and possible memories she was overwhelmed.

"Are you still having dreams?"

"Yes."

Antonin opened his arm, inviting her to lay against him. She did so without hesitation. His skin was rapidly cooling off following his hot shower. The sensation was nice against her cheek. She wondered if it had been this easy to be alone with her husband in the past if they might've been much happier together. Perhaps it was best that she not allow herself to even entertain such notions. Wasn't their situation perilous enough without the addition of confusing feelings and emotions? They needed to worry about surviving first. Everything else could be figured out later.

"Any that you want to talk about? Sometimes that helps.

"Do you really want to listen to me tell you about all of the stolen moments with Rodolphus when you weren't looking?"

"If it would help you to talk about them, I would listen."

She knew he was telling her the truth. With the final removal of all of the spells affecting her and after she was brutally honest with him about the details of her blocked memories, there had been a noticeable shift in their relationship. If he'd refused to speak to her again after learning about her longterm affair with Rodolphus, she wouldn't have blamed him in the slightest. Whether it was a strength of character or an act of self-flagellation on his part to agree to listen was yet to be determined. As much as she hated burdening him with tales of her misdeeds, it did help to share.

"Did you know that Mr. Akingbade and your brother tested my potions? All of them?"

"No. What do you mean by 'all of them'?"

"They tested the two you've given me: the strawberry flavored one and the other you gave me when I was really confused. But they also tested the other one I used to always take."

His deep sigh of frustration didn't surprise Hermione whatsoever. They'd had many disagreements and outright fights over the years about her potions habit. He'd begged her to stop numerous times, shamed her into remembering their son and a number of other ineffective methods. Addiction was not easily conquered or dismissed. When she allowed herself to think of some of her lowest points in her quest for another vial, she was ashamed. Before she was affected herself, she always thought only weak, stupid people allowed themselves to get addicted to substances that were harmful. How very wrong she'd been.

"How did they get a vial of that? I was under the impression you haven't been taking that anymore."

"I haven't. Not since Ollie's eleventh birthday, I swear."

"And yet you still had some? Why?"

"I don't know, honestly. I had an entire drawer in my desk at the Ministry full, but I destroyed them the day I killed Nott. But those weren't all of them. I had more hidden around the house."

She could tell by the change in his breathing that he was angry and struggling to keep his composure. Not that she could blame him. In her recklessness, she could've easily exposed their son to the harmful substance. As curious a child as he was, it would've been easy for him to find hidden vials if he started looking. The clarity that came with no longer being under their influence revealed to her in even more ways what a reckless, awful mother she'd been. She supposed that she had nowhere to go but up as a mother.

"I destroyed all of them but the one I gave to Mr. Akingbade to test. I don't… I don't ever want to be like I used to be, Antonin. I'm still struggling, but I don't want to be dependent on them again."

The gentle squeeze of his arm around her back and his deep exhale proved her words and assurances helped calm him. And, for once, she actually meant what she said. It wasn't just some false promise she made to get him to leave her alone. She desired to be a better person. Mr. Akingbade seemed to believe she wasn't without hope. Maybe he was right.

"Why were they testing them?"

"To make sure they were really what they were supposed to be."

"And the ones I gave you?"

"Were perfectly fine. I didn't actually doubt that, Antonin. Maybe in the beginning when you first gave them to me, but I've known for awhile now that you were only trying to help."

He pressed his lips against the top of her head by way of thanks. Suddenly uncomfortable by her admission, Hermione moved on to the other potion. She didn't want to give him the opportunity to reinforce the fact that he cared so much about her.

"But they discovered something wrong with the third. It had been mixed with a rage potion and a…" She didn't want to tell him everything, but was exhausted of keeping secrets. "…a lust potion that will apparently cause a person to go mad with prolonged use. I suppose we now understand what some of my other problems were."

"Did you always get potions from the same place?"

"Yes… Rabastan."

Even without saying a word, she knew he was thinking about how foolish and reckless she'd been over the years. To trust Rabastan with anything was asking for trouble. She was thankful that she hadn't gotten as hurt as she could've been.

"So what reason would Rabastan have to add a rage and a lust potion to it? I don't understand unless it was to make sure your actions were even more erratic and unpredictable."

"Maybe."

It was impossible to uncover without a shadow of a doubt exactly what Rabastan was up to. He played the long game in every move he made. While it seemed at times that he was careless of acting purely on instinct, she knew better. There was always a plan. Evidently, his older brother was the same.

"I'm concerned more about the lust potion than I am the rage. At the very least, I'm pleased to know there's a logical explanation for your volatile anger. I confess I was scared for you many times and… of you. But, the lust potion, I don't understand. Why? Did Rabastan add it to force you?"

"No, he never forced me. He's a horrible, disgusting man, but no, I've only ever gone to him willingly."

"And what about any others? You weren't…"

"No, Antonin! Never. I can say with total confidence that I've only ever been with those I wanted to be with… even when I was taking the potions I still knew how to say 'no'."

She wasn't sure if that was a relief to her husband or not. Maybe a small hope rested within him that her lascivious behavior, that no doubt humiliated him, was a result of factors behind her control, that it wasn't simply because she didn't want to be with him. Of course nothing in her life could ever be simple.

"There has to be a reason why Rabastan put those extra potions in the vial. And I can't help but suspect that Rodolphus is the one giving him orders. He's always controlled his brother. Even in Azkaban. Everyone always assumed that it was Bellatrix that held all of the power in their marriage because he was so quiet, but that wasn't true."

"Why do you think Rodolphus was so obsessed with me? What were his plans for me?"

Nothing about what Rodolphus did to her made the least bit of sense. If he was simply attracted to her and wanted to have an affair with her, she proved she was willing without the manipulations. Did he have plans to use her as a weapon? She almost killed Antonin only minutes after he blocked her memories. Had that been the plan? Was Rodolphus interested in being the next Dark Lord? She couldn't imagine that was the truth, not with his ties to the Resistance. But, she had to remind herself of his own words.

"I'm not not part of the Resistance though."

He spoke in riddles, never explaining his true purpose for living like a domesticated dog inside the Resistance's village. It was possible they would never know what he meant to do until it was too late. Sensing she was steadily getting more upset, Antonin pulled Hermione tighter against his chest.

"Maybe he fancies himself in love with you and he wanted to control you. He wasn't blameless in what happened to Bellatrix. She wasn't always insane. You reminded a lot of us of her when she was young, before she lost her mind. It's possible he thought he could remake you to be more like she was before Azkaban."

Her body shivered at the thought of turning into that wretched woman. Or was it because she could already see what it was he meant? Maybe the process was complete and she could do nothing to reverse it.

"But, really, Hermione, I think we're just going to drive ourselves mad if we try to piece his mind together. Let's not. He no longer has control over you. Let's be thankful for that."

Except she couldn't be certain whether or not that was true. Without knowing the full scope of his plans, it was entirely possible that he still had the power to force her to his will. Even more frightening than just worrying about it was understanding that she wouldn't be able to test out whether or not he could control her until they were in the same room together. She hoped to never be that close to him again.

"How was Diagon Alley? Were there any problems?"

Hermione forced her mind to stop thinking about Rodolphus long enough to answer Antonin's question. There would be plenty of time to worry about the horrible wizard later. Focusing on the trip she made to London with Oliver would be the perfect distraction.

"No problems. It was as you suspected. Lots of curious people wanting to know if I was going to attack them or maybe lay down in the middle of the cobblestones and start drooling."

He didn't appreciate her attempt at humor, but didn't address it. It was late after all. Both of them were struggling to cover up their yawns.

"We did see Ginny Weasley though. That was interesting."

Every muscle in Antonin's body tensed at the mention of the red-haired witch. He'd been on the wrong end of Ginny's wand a time or two. As much respect as he had for his dangerous foe, he probably didn't like learning that his wife and son were in her proximity. Enemies were everywhere.

"But don't worry. She didn't try anything. I didn't even see her reach for her wand, but I had my hand on mine the entire time."

"What did she want?"

"Just to say hello, it seemed. She did stare at Ollie for longer than I was comfortable with. Said that he looked just like you, even had your dimples. Then she walked away."

"How odd."

Something in his tone felt off to Hermione, but she didn't want to prolong their discussion any longer than they already had. Morning would be there soon enough. She snuggled into Antonin's side, content to lay in his embrace a little while longer.