August 25th

The last week before the school year began at Hogwarts arrived with very little fanfare. Only three of the inhabitants of the safe house were seated around the breakfast table enjoying the meal provided by Antonin. Augustus thought it more prudent to visit Alecto's flat late the night before to prevent her from getting any ideas about spending a weekend away in Cornwall. The entire Dolohov family appreciated his sacrifice for the opportunity to feel like a regular family again.

"Did you get everything on your list when you went to Diagon Alley with your mum, Ollie?"

Oliver caught his mother's eye, failing to keep a smirk off of his face. Hermione hid her own smile behind her teacup.

"We forgot to get new dragonhide gloves."

A deep sigh proved that Antonin was put out by the admission. There was simply no way that a student could hope to do well in Herbology without possessing the proper gloves. Somehow he would need to get a new pair before he returned to school or his parents would have to owl them to him when he was already there.

"Then I suppose we must make another trip to Diagon Alley today."

"Yes, Papa, I'm afraid we must."

"Put your plate in the sink and go upstairs to get your shoes."

He didn't need to be told twice. Oliver's plate was in the soapy hot water and he was up the stairs in seconds. Hermione continued to sip at her tea, pretending she wasn't aware that there had been a plan to ensure this very moment happened. When she caught her husband smiling at her with a single raised eyebrow, she knew that the subterfuge had been discovered.

"Whose idea was it to conveniently leave those off the list? Yours or his?"

"Mine. He was so disappointed that you weren't able to go with us the first time that I suggested we forget something he need."

"A conspiracy against me in my own home from my wife and son? There must be some form of punishment for your boldness."

Hermione picked up her own plate to carry it to the sink. Passing by her husband, she lowered her voice and spoke just outside his ear in what she knew to be a sultry whisper.

"I have every faith that you will think of something particularly creative to punish me for my insolence."

"Oh, you can be sure of that."

He gently tugged on her collar to bring her lips to his. A stirring in Hermione's belly proved that she was looking forward to whatever punishment he had in mind. No doubt it would be something pleasurable they would both benefit from. After the promise from his heated kiss was made, she resumed her trek to the sink. She wasn't even able to drop the plate in the water before Antonin was standing behind her, his arms around her waist and his own proof that he too was looking forward to making her pay for her part in planning the conspiracy pressing into her lower back.

"You are in an excellent mood this morning, Antonin. I think I like it."

"I am and I hope that I may finally have some good news to give you very soon about our current situation."

After their tense conversation in the middle of the night the day before, he'd made his excuses when they woke up to leave the house again. She didn't think it was to get away from her again, but she never could be completely certain. Though back in their temporary home long before his wife was getting ready for bed, it still bothered her that he was gone. There had been little information provided and she knew better than to demand. He would tell her when he was ready and nothing she did would encourage him to do it sooner.

"I have someone with a great deal of influence who has an alternative plan to me becoming the Dark Lord. Something that I think will make all of us happy."

"Who is this influential person?"

If he was ready to tell her, she wasn't sure. Oliver entered the room before another word could be said. Forgoing the usual Muggle method of washing dishes that he preferred, Antonin cast a quick spell to clean and dry everything in the sink. As the dishes floated to their proper cupboards, Antonin suggested that they not waste another moment. He put on a stern expression that Hermione knew was just for show to tell their son that he wanted to get the rest of his school shopping done as quickly as possible.

Even if they didn't say so, all three Dolohovs were nervous about being in Diagon Alley. It was the last Saturday before September 1st. The next Saturday was supposedly the day in which a truce had been made between the major players of the upcoming revolution that no violence would be allowed. Hermione still had her doubts about that, but kept her thoughts to herself. Bustling with energy, she couldn't help noticing the wide-eyed stares in her direction continued. Leaving the country entirely would be the best course of action. None of them would ever be able to go anywhere again without experiencing the same reaction.

"I'm afraid that I need to step into Gringott's."

"That's all right. Oliver and I can wait for you outside."

The arrangement suited Hermione and her son at least. Thanks to her antics on the horcrux hunt twenty years earlier, she was given a lifetime ban. Despite her allegiance to the Dark Lord and her high position within the regime, the goblins would not be budged in their decision. Anyone who was known to be a thief wasn't allowed. The fact that she also aided in the theft of their dragon was an additional strike against her. Oliver was relieved that he didn't have to go inside with his father. Since he was a small boy he'd found the creatures that ran the wizarding bank unnerving.

"Why do you never go in with Papa?"

"Oh, well, something to do with a lifetime ban, I'm afraid."

His eyebrows lifted, but he didn't ask for details. That was a story that she hoped she could go a few more years before telling. All her impressionable Gryffindor son needed was to know that his mother once stole and rode on the back of a dragon. She could just see him trying to recreate the same moment with Hugo Weasley. That was a fear she didn't need to have.

She turned her attention to the unfriendly faces passing them as they stood on the front steps of the bank. No one offered her even the tiniest of smiles. Either they believed what was written in the Daily Prophet or her position under the regime was finally catching up to her. When the last of Lord Voldemort's influences were removed, she had no doubt that she would be too. Her reputation as being one of the most feared people in their society was no longer secure. At best, she would be seen as a joke, a remnant of the past that was better left forgotten. At worst, she would be made to suffer the same pain and indignities that her victims had. While she knew that she should fear that outcome, she also knew it was what she deserved. Perhaps even less than what she deserved. In an attempt to get her mind off of those worsening thoughts, Hermione turned to speak to her son.

"Do you think that…"

Unable to finish her question, Hermione's stomach twisted into a panicked knot when she couldn't see her son anywhere. He had just been standing next to her on the steps. How could he be gone in just moments? Frantically scanning the large crowd, she couldn't see him anywhere she looked. She wasn't sure what to do. The wards on the bank wouldn't even allow her to enter the front door and even if they did, Antonin was likely already in a cart well on his way to their family vault. Waiting for him to return could be too late. What if Rodolphus seized the opportunity to snatch her son when she wasn't looking?

She knew she couldn't stand still, not with the fear that she'd lost her son choking her lungs. Trying to imagine where he might've gone, Hermione pushed into the crowd of shoppers, her eyes never ceasing scanning the faces for one that was familiar and friendly. As she passed The Junk Shop, she saw Teddy Lupin standing just inside the doorway holding the door open for an elderly witch. Her desperation allowed her to push aside any concerns that he might reject her plea for help.

"My son is missing. Have you seen him? He's maybe an inch or two shorter than I am, has dark brown hair just like his father. You know my husband, don't you?"

Teddy nodded that he did. Of course he did. No doubt Antonin was a major part of his own childhood. She didn't allow the bitterness to take root. That was something that she could think about later when Oliver was safe.

"I haven't seen him, Madam Dolohov. I'm sorry. Would you like some help?"

She might have been an enemy, might have been the woman responsible for ripping the last relative he had from his life, but the proof that the Lupins' son possessed their same giving, warm heart was evident. Shaking her head, she apologized for disturbing him and continued her search alone. All manner of fears were swirling around in her battered brain. If Rodolphus had him, he wouldn't hesitate to use him against her. It would be just the motivation she needed to allow the evil man close enough to her to resume his terroristic activities on her mind.

The delicious breakfast her husband prepared for them that morning churned in her gut. Once when he was very small, Oliver wandered away from them when they were in Diagon Alley. Antonin had been with her and scared out of his mind. Thanks to her detachment from their son and the potions that she took to numb herself to the horror of the world they lived in, she was able to keep a cool head when he was losing his. They'd found him standing in front of The Magical Menagerie fascinated by the collection of owls in the window. Relieved that he was unharmed, Antonin almost wept in public. Without care that he was being watched by the fellow shoppers, he grabbed their son and held him tight against his chest until he could calm down. She remembered being embarrassed by his emotional display. What would the peasants think of seeing them behave like that? Their child or not, she didn't understand what the fuss was about. In that moment, however, she finally understood exactly what her husband was afraid of that day so long ago.

Standing just outside the damned Quidditch store with his nose pressed up the glass with a boy who could only be a Weasley, Oliver was completely oblivious of the terror that he put his mother through. Hermione felt her heart-rate begin to return to normal as she caught her breath. He was safe, he was whole. Tempted to do exactly what Antonin did to him when he was small, she managed to resist the urge.

"Oliver!"

She didn't mean for her voice to show how panicked she'd been. Turning away from the window, Oliver's expression proved that he knew he was in trouble. Before she could lecture him about the dangers of running away from her in such dangerous times, she looked up to see Ron Weasley smiling down at her. They hadn't spoken since Theodore Nott Senior's wretched wedding reception. To her surprise, her old friend actually seemed pleased to see her again.

"Are you all right, Hermione? Your cheeks are a bit flushed."

"Thank you, Ron. I'm all right now that I know where my son ran off to."

"Oh, bugger. I'm so sorry. I thought Oliver had your permission to join us. At least that's what Hugo said."

Both of their sons had identical guilt splashed across their faces at being caught in a lie. As much as she wanted to impose upon her son the severity of his reckless action, the two of them reminded her so much of their parents at that age that she found she couldn't form the words. She gestured to the window display of the newest brooms.

"Well, go on then and look. The damage has already been done."

They smiled and resumed their gawking at the newest model of the Firebolt. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

"How have you been, Hermione? I've been worried about you since the funeral."

Ron's statement caught her completely off-guard. They were not friends. Not anymore. Their paths diverged years earlier. While she didn't see a hint of insincerity in his face, she still wasn't sure what to believe.

"It brought up a lot of memories, didn't it?"

She was surprised that he seemed sad. What was happening? Had everyone changed since the Dark Lord was murdered by her husband? She didn't know what to think. Ron stepped closer and lowered his voice so only she could hear the next words he spoke.

"I don't believe what's been written about you in the newspapers. Not a single word. It's all too similar to what happened to Harry to actually be real, isn't it?"

The fact that he brought up their former best friend at all was incredible. For twenty years, they had never allowed themselves to speak about the boy they'd both cared so much about. Not only was it dangerous to even mention his name, it was too painful. With her eyes wide, she simply stared at the redheaded man, unsure how to respond.

"You're always welcome on our side, Hermione. What's coming isn't going to be good, but you could fight with us. If you wanted, you could even bring your husband. He'd be welcome too."

His offer only produced even more confusion. It couldn't possibly be genuine. Rodolphus and Rabastan would never allow Antonin as an ally. They would kill him and his entire family first. What game was Ron playing at? She had a dozen different questions on her tongue, but the abrupt arrival of her confused and aggravated husband cut them off.