August 22nd

Somehow Hermione was able to calm her son down with her assurances that he didn't have to fear what was coming. She could hardly convince herself of that lie, but he was still innocent enough to believe his mother when she made him a promise. With Oliver still held in her arms, she looked up to find a concerned Antonin watching them from just outside the door. As much as she wanted to chastise her husband for being so careless with his words where their son could hear them, she couldn't. She was just as guilty at times of doing the same. All they could do was try to be better in the future to make up for their past failures.

Antonin requested a few minutes to speak with Oliver alone that Hermione gladly provided. Their relationship had always been much closer. She had no doubt that her husband would know exactly what to say to make up for his mistake. Hopefully, this would not be a situation they had to repeat. As much as she continued to worry that Hogwarts wasn't going to be as safe as she was promised, she knew it would be better than wherever his parents ended up. Augustus' house was only temporary. They couldn't stay forever. She didn't want to be there any longer than she already had been.

By the next night after Oliver's dramatic exit to his room, the safe house was much calmer. Whatever Antonin said to their son helped. Hermione was grateful that they had a special and close relationship. There was nothing Antonin wouldn't do for Oliver, including throwing the woman he loved with a fiery passion for twenty years out on her arse if she became a danger to his safety. It helped her relax somewhat knowing what a staunch protector their son had. He would be all right. No matter what happened in the war that was sure to come, he would be safe and come out of it unharmed. She had to believe that was true or she feared she might go mad with worry.

The announcement that the magic of adults was no longer under the scrutiny of the Trace gave Hermione a great deal to think about. While the three wizards were engrossed in listening to a Quidditch match on the wizarding wireless, all she could think about was how she wasn't sure that was the truth. For years, well over a decade and a half, the wizarding population of Great Britain knew that the Ministry of Magic was tracking their every move. Suspicious spells cast were often met with an investigative team from the Ministry to determine what the average citizen was up to. Many ended up in Azkaban with their lives irrevocably changed. While Hermione knew that the magic of the Death Eaters was also subject to the same scrutiny, as evidenced by the impressive temper tantrum Antonin threw the day he was ordered to register, there had always been allowances made for the Dark Lord's most faithful followers. A record might have been kept of their spells and activities, but it wasn't used against them unless a case could be made for treason against the regime.

She didn't trust that her magic wouldn't continue to be tracked. Maybe with the disbanding of the department responsible for monitoring the use of magic and her husband's current status within the regime, Antonin wasn't able to track her, but that didn't mean she believed no one else was. Until she knew she was safe, she vowed to continue cloaking her magic when she was alone and in hiding. It seemed safer that way.

"Remember when you took me to the Wimbourne Wasps match last summer, Papa?"

Antonin turned his attention away from the wireless to smile at his son. Quidditch had always been something they enjoyed. Hermione usually had to be dragged to important events like the Quidditch World Cup against her will, but Oliver and Antonin took the time to share in their excitement together.

"Of course I remember, Ollie. One of the best matches I've ever seen. Almost a perfect day. Only would've been better if your mum had been there too."

She tried to ignore the guilt she felt at being reminded that the previous summer she was on the run. Probably around the time her husband took their son to a Quidditch match to get his mind off of his mother almost killing his father, she was holed up in Kingsley Shacklebolt's flat trying not to die from potions withdrawal. Hardly a memory she wanted to relive.

The commentary on the Quidditch match continued blasting from the the wireless while Hermione's mind traveled back to the previous summer. Yet again she was grateful that she'd been found in her delirium by someone who didn't wish her ill. Before she could progress very far in her depressing reminiscences, a loud knock at the door startled them all. Knowing it could only be one other person, and one she hated at that, Hermione's lip curled up in a scowl.

"Really wish your girlfriend would owl before she just popped over, Gus."

"So do I. She's probably trying to catch me doing something I'm not supposed to."

Antonin led his family up the narrow staircase to Oliver's bedroom. They had to rush to get the room sealed before Augustus opened the door. Unlike the last time that they were in the room together, no one bothered to press the panel on the wall that revealed what was happening downstairs. Either Antonin wasn't interested in knowing what was happening or he was concerned that his son would see more than he should. Either way didn't matter to Hermione. She certainly didn't want to repeat what happened the last time Alecto came to visit. As interesting as the night had become, it was awkward.

"I suppose it's late enough that we could just get in bed."

Her husband's suggestion sounded just fine to Hermione. It was late after all. Staring at the second bed, she decided that she wouldn't sleep in it again just the way it was. Both of them had woken up with stiff limbs. A simple spell enlarged the bed enough that they could sleep comfortably side by side instead of on top of each other. Seeing what she was doing, Antonin slipped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear.

"I thought the bed was rather cozy the way it was before."

"Oh, yes, very cozy right up until the moment you elbowed me in the stomach."

The sound of their chuckles made their son's eyes roll. He could be terribly dramatic at times. Throwing himself down on top of the bed with a groan, Oliver made his displeasure at being torn away from his Quidditch match clear.

"Why does Gus have a friend over when it's so late?"

Hermione caught her husband's eye, biting her bottom lip to keep from laughing. He was struggling with the same urge. At least they were able to find some humor in a difficult situation. It helped to keep their minds off of the very real fact that they were in danger if Alecto knew they were just up the hidden staircase. Of course, that was assuming that any of the three adults allowed her to leave the house alive. The odds of that happening weren't great. Alecto might have been effective against terrified children and teenagers when she was forced to be the Muggle Studies professor for one year, but she'd grown complacent and weak. Too much time spent in a comfortable position with the Daily Prophet and rarely going out on raids or missions kept her out of practice. Only when she thought she could trust her voice without chuckling did Hermione try to answer her son's question.

"Well, Ollie, sometimes when adults care about each other very much…"

"Mum, I know all about sex. You don't have to explain it to me."

It was impossible to keep her laughter under control after being shocked by Oliver's response. Evidently, a lot more had changed in their home when she was away than she realized. Perhaps it wasn't the right response to have under the circumstances, but no one had ever claimed Hermione was a great mum. Or even a halfway decent one. Maybe better mothers wouldn't laugh in such a situation at what their child said. She really didn't have the first clue.

"And where the devil did you learn about that? I'd like to see what books you've been reading when we're not around."

"Papa explained it to me ages ago when I was ten. What he didn't tell me I heard about from some of the third years."

"Don't listen to them. They don't have the first clue what they're talking about."

If he was learning what she learned as a first year from the third years in her House, he wasn't learning anything that was correct or true. She had to conduct her own independent research in the medical books in her father's study when she was home between terms to discover they were wrong. Of course, considering the third years were Fred and George Weasley and their best friend Lee Jordan, it was highly probable that they only told the younger students in their House what they did as a joke. One never could tell with the Weasley twins.

"Why couldn't he go over to her house instead?"

It was a question that none of them had the answer to. Deciding it was too late to stay up any longer, Antonin suggested they all try to get some sleep. Annoyed that she didn't have her pajamas with her upstairs to change into, Hermione kicked her shoes off and climbed under the covers of their bed with a grumpy expression on her face. How could one horrible woman like Alecto bring so much discomfort and aggravation everywhere she went? She was still trying to come to terms with the fact that their friendship had been a complete lie from the very beginning. They'd shared so many late nights where they sat up talking about everything. Alecto was one of the first women that ever wanted to be Hermione's friend. Perhaps that should've been a sign that something was amiss.

"What's the matter, my darling?"

"That horrible woman. We were having such a lovely evening. Now we're stuck up here and I don't even have anything decent to wear to bed. If she keeps this up, we may as well just move up here permanently with Ollie."

He dropped his voice to a whisper as he climbed into bed behind her.

"That's a terrible idea. I like our privacy."

His kiss did not go unnoticed by their son. Making a gagging sound and asking them to stop being so gross, Oliver rolled over onto his side to not have to look at his parents. Through his laughter, Antonin cast silencing charms around their son's bed so they could have a private conversation while he tried to fall asleep.

"I'm sorry we're having to spend another night up here."

"It's not your fault. It's that horrible cow Alecto's fault."

"Are you jealous of Carrow?"

"Yes, but not in the way that you're thinking."

She worried that even though she'd already confessed that she didn't want to marry Augustus and likely never had, that Antonin was still afraid that she would run off with the man downstairs given half a chance. It was a ridiculous fear, but she couldn't exactly blame him for feeling how he did. The entire situation they were in was bizarre. She knew that she should've chosen her words more carefully.

"And in what way do you think I'm thinking?"

"You think I'm jealous that she's downstairs doing god only knows what with Augie."

"Well, yeah. Aren't you?"

"I'd rather she never touch him, but no, I'm not jealous for that reason. I know why he's doing what he's doing. We talked about it. It's not because he's in love with her. He just needs information."

Somehow admitting that she talked to her ex-lover about the woman he was currently engaged in a sexual relationship with was not what Antonin wanted to hear. He rolled over on his back, no longer snuggled up behind her. It was a terrible sign that their conversation wasn't going to go well. The silencing spells around Oliver's bed would only go so far. She knew that if he was truly angry, her husband would let her know without concern that their son might witness the scene.

"Don't get angry with me, Antonin. We're all living in this house and it's bound to be awkward at times. He told me that he was only with her for information and I told him I understood."

"So you gave him false hope? Told him that you forgave him for betraying you?"

"You're being unreasonable. No, I did not give him false hope or any hope at all. He was uncomfortable that I knew about them. Probably even knew that we watched them together."

She was exhausted. Even if she wasn't when they first sought their escape in the attic bedroom, she was after having the same tired row with her husband. Would he never get over his jealousy? Augustus would likely have to die before he finally believed he was no longer a threat to his marriage.

"I'm jealous of Alecto because she gets to go home whenever she wants and sleep in her own bed. I'm angry because we can't even sleep in our borrowed bed downstairs because of the wretched bitch. That is why I'm jealous. It has nothing to do with Augie."

No longer wishing to continue their conversation out of fear that it would never end, Hermione rolled over onto her side to close her eyes and try to get to sleep.