August 20th

Once upon a time Mondays actually meant something to Hermione. When she was working in the Ministry interrogating their most notorious criminals and enemies of the regime, she had a sense of purpose, a reason to hop out of bed early in the morning. She was a creature who appreciated routines and rituals. It helped to keep her life ordered and manageable. No longer having the need for a schedule was frustrating, but a small sacrifice to ensure that she and her small family were safe.

She lingered in bed longer than she ever would've dreamed about doing in her previous life. Antonin was already gone, his side of the bed cool to the touch. Though he wouldn't give her details until he was certain that his plans would be successful, she knew that he'd been working in the background with potential allies trying to figure out the next movements of their enemies. Their world had grown deceptively quiet. It was only a matter of time before another explosion rocked them all to the core.

Every day in Hermione's life, Monday or not, now felt much like the one before. She knew that it wouldn't be this way forever. Perhaps she should just relish in the relative calm in the moment. Too soon they would likely be on the run again or worse, caught up in the violence that marred her adolescence. If she could be content for the time being simply relaxing and recharging, maybe she would even have an advantage over those who meant her harm. She knew that the Lestrange brothers hadn't stopped their maneuvering for a single moment. A second not spent in the execution of their final plans was a waste.

Forcing herself to get out of bed before she allowed her mood to become any worse, she dressed quickly for another day spent wasting around and waiting. She didn't hear any noise outside of her bedroom in the rest of the house. Likely the remaining inhabitants were taking advantage of a quiet day themselves. Exiting her bedroom, she made the decision that a cup of tea was likely just what she needed to help chase some of her blues away. At the very least, it gave her a goal, a mission to complete, even if for just a few minutes.

Hermione was surprised to find Augustus seated at the kitchen table when she entered. Nibbling at a piece of toast, his attention was so focused on his copy of that morning's Daily Prophet that he didn't even hear her walk into the room. It had been weeks since she last read an edition of the newspaper. None of the so-called news held within its pages likely had any value whatsoever. Her curiosity, however, got the better of her.

"Anything interesting happening out there?"

The sound of her voice startled Augustus out of his reading. Looking up at the new arrival into his kitchen with wide eyes, he carefully folded up the newspaper and tried unsuccessfully to pretend like she hadn't just caught him unaware. She found his behavior to be odd, but so had most of his actions since her family moved into his house. It was a bizarre situation to be in to begin with. Any normal human being would've felt much the same way.

"You seem awfully engrossed in the paper this morning. Must be exciting. I haven't even glanced at a copy since before the Dark Lord's death."

He cleared his throat, attempting again to seem like he wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. How could he be so successful at keeping a secret as big as the fact that he was actively working with her husband for months and yet allow all of his emotion to show on his face when he was caught off-guard? She found him to be a fascinating and contradictory specimen. Maybe that's why they were attracted to each other. They were similar in many ways.

"Oh, have you not? Well, I can assure you, dear… Hermione, that there's nothing interesting within these pages whatsoever."

"Sometimes you're an excellent liar, Augie. This is not one of those times."

Before he could stop her, Hermione had the folded up newspaper in her hands. Part of him seemed to be at war within himself as to whether he should fight to get it back or not. She didn't understand why the horrible newspaper was such a big deal. It wasn't as if she didn't know that the words written within couldn't be trusted. That was a fact that hadn't been changed since she was a fifth year in the year the Ministry of Magic tried so hard to keep the fact that Lord Voldemort was alive quiet. Finally, the wizard's shoulders slumped and he sighed.

"Antonin has been keeping all of the newspapers away from you and Ollie for a reason. I should've been more careful and read it in my bedroom."

"My husband often thinks that he's working in my best interests, but I am not a child. If he wants to keep the newspapers away from our son, I will support that, but not me. Kindly remind him I'm not his child the next time he insists you do something for 'my protection'."

There was a lot more that she knew she could say on that subject, but chose to hold her tongue. Antonin had a very old-fashioned way about him that drove her absolutely mad. Perhaps it used to be common for the wizard who was the Head of the family to protect those in his care by keeping them ignorant. Just because that was how things were once done didn't mean they had to stay that way indefinitely. If he wanted to have any shot at a future with his family intact, Antonin was going to have to learn that he couldn't just make all of the decisions for his family himself. They had to be partners or they would never make it.

It didn't take her long to figure out the reasoning behind Antonin's decision to shield his wife and child from the contents of the newspaper. Spread across the front page in bold print was a headline announcing that the "Notorious Madam Dolohov" had been seen out in public for the first time since her rather public meltdown at the Dark Lord's funeral. A picture of her walking down Diagon Alley with an excited Oliver at her side accompanied the words. Apparently, there had been some speculation following the incident that she had been carted away to a private room in St. Mungo's, conceivably for the duration of her miserable life. It wasn't a surprise at all to see the reporter's name at the top of the dreadful piece. Rita Skeeter would never get over what she'd done to her when she was a teenager.

She looked up from the disgusting words to level Augustus with a glare. How much worse had the previous articles been, she wondered? Considering what she'd heard from Skeeter's columns before, the mention of taking her son to shop for school supplies was relatively mild. Her ex-lover didn't appreciate the stare, but he was no coward, and he had a long history himself with the witch across the table.

"How bad have they been?"

"Awful enough that Antonin didn't want them even in the house. I told him that I couldn't cancel my subscription. Not without it seeming suspicious. You know there's a record of subscriptions. Alecto works there. She could see that I cancelled it and I have no doubt she would want to know why."

"Did you keep the previous newspapers?"

He sighed in defeat. It was a question that she didn't even need to ask. She already knew the answer. Of course he did. Knowing that there would come a time when her husband was no longer able to keep the truth of the libelous rubbish in the newspaper from his wife, Augustus would've saved any article that mentioned Hermione for her to read later. She even had a good idea where he might've kept them. Without saying another word, she crossed the kitchen to a small broom cupboard. When he started to stand to his feet to stop her, she knew she was right.

Even with a disillusionment spell cast on them, she was able to easily find the stack of newspapers hidden on the top shelf. A bucket that might have once been used to hold a mop a generation or two earlier when his mother still lived in the house made a poor excuse for a barricade. It was the same place he used to hide gifts for her. He always thought that he was being clever, but it hadn't taken her long to discover the secret.

"I knew I shouldn't have stayed at the table. I thought you'd be having yourself a lie-in again this morning and I would have plenty of time to read in peace."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Augie."

She settled the stack of newspapers on top of the table to look through. While she was certain that she wouldn't want to read every single disgusting word that was printed about her, she needed to have at least some idea of what was being said. She had to know what she was up against. It didn't take her long at all to see how right Augustus had been. They were awful. Much worse than the articles the same newspaper printed about Harry Potter over twenty years earlier, it was evident that they were doing whatever they could to discredit and humiliate her. Antonin would be caught up in the same avalanche of lies and rumors because he was her husband. Truthfully, she never understood how anyone could stomach a career in journalism. It was a nasty business with even nastier people involved. She wouldn't have wished to be in it for even a day.

"I think it's safe to say based on what he has allowed to be printed in The Daily Prophet that Albert Runcorn is not on our side."

"No, I'd imagine not. If he'd printed this kind of rubbish with Antonin in charge, he would no longer have his head on his neck."

"I've been trying to figure out in my own way who is on our side, but it's not been easy. Most are reluctant to talk to me because…"

Hermione set the paper she was staring at down on the table to look him in the eye. He seemed uncomfortable by how their conversation was going. Funny how he was a fearsome wizard capable of bringing many an enemy to their knees, but he could be unnerved by a woman he loved.

"Because of me?"

"Well, yes. Our past relationship makes it so no one wants to talk to me about you or even Antonin for that matter. Of course, it would seem to me that if there was anyone who was in favor of overthrowing Antonin and ending his life, it would be me, but no one with half a brain has ever asked me."

He'd said too much. It was one thing to have fantasies about seeing the husband of the woman he was convinced he was in love with dead and it was quite another to actually speak the words out loud. Augustus cleared his throat and dropped his eyes from hers to rest on the stack of newspapers.

"It's why I've been pursuing a relationship with Alecto. She loves to talk, especially about you. My dear, she hates you with a passion I didn't know was possible."

"I wish I could say that I was surprised by that, but after all that I've learned since having the memory charms removed, I believe it."

"She has been helpful in giving me a lot of information."

The subject of Alecto Carrow hadn't yet been brought up between them since the night she came barging into his home. It was awkward, to be sure, but necessary that they finally get all of it out. He needed to understand that she wasn't judging him for doing what he had to do. Besides, she meant it months earlier when she let him go. Augustus wasn't hers and he never would be again. She couldn't bear breaking his heart one more time. What he did with his time and with whom he spent it was none of her business. Seducing an informant was a common tactic in espionage. Hermione had done it more than she wanted to admit to. There was a reason why it was employed so often… it was effective.

"I hate doing it. I hate being with her. She's… she's just awful, but until I've learned everything I can…"

"You have to keep at it."