September 2nd

Learning that Hannah Rowle neé Abbott was the Secret Keeper for their new safe house was only the first in a series of surprises that Hermione discovered when she was Disapparated away from the train station by her husband. Landing in front of a ramshackle cottage tucked back on an overgrown lot, she wasn't sure what to think about their new location. Yes, Augustus' home was no longer safe now that Rodolphus expected her to come back to visit her ex-lover, but surely there was somewhere, anywhere else that was better than where they were. Confused and a little frightened that he was about to take her into a house less luxurious than the Shrieking Shack, she turned to scowl at her amused husband. He simply laughed.

"Think about what you just read."

She rolled her eyes, not finding any amusement in the situation in the slightest. Doing as he suggested, she thought about the address written on the parchment. Almost immediately the complicated enchantments hiding the true façade seemed to melt away. Revealed in its place was a charming, little cottage surrounded by a garden even Fenrir Greyback would be proud to call his own. In fact, the location looked so similar to his little piece of the world that she felt her chest grow heavy with thoughts about the werewolf. Where was he? How was he faring in the uncertainty of their current time? She had to push away the thoughts when her husband asked her what she thought.

"It seems nice. Where are we?"

"My grandparents, on my mother's side, of course, left this cottage to my youngest brother when they died. They tried to be equitable in what they left to all of their grandchildren, but as you can see, Grandmother loved Aubin just a little bit more than the rest of us."

Though he said it was a chuckle, Hermione knew that it was a sore subject with her husband. From all accounts, his Fawley grandparents were unkind and miserable people. She was thankful that Antonin never asked her to go with him to visit while they were alive. Most of their wrath seemed to be directed at their eldest grandson, as if it was his fault that he was conceived when their proper Pureblood daughter drank too much and allowed herself to be seduced by the Russian wizard they never cared for. Some of the stories that he would tell about the Fawleys, including his own mother, were terrible. Even during the worst parts of their marriage when she all but hated Antonin, she hated his relatives more for being so cruel. When he was dragged off to Azkaban, the shame supposedly led to his grandfather's fatal heart attack. Or at least that's what his grandmother would say to guilt him up until the very day that she died just weeks after Oliver was born. Not even the sight of her first great-grandchild gave the terrible woman any joy right before she passed.

Hermione didn't like the idea of staying in a house that was owned by Antonin's youngest brother. He was, without question, her least favorite of all of the brothers. Elspeth Fawley Dolohov had a love for terrible French romance novels. Likely, that was exactly the reason why she ended up in the back of a wedding reception with her robes up above her waist and a handsome Russian beneath them. She probably saw Vadim Dolohov as the ultimate mysterious, foreign stranger that she'd read about in a dozen variations of the same novel. All four of her sons were named after ridiculous heroes in the sappy volumes. Why she chose to only pick names that began with the letter 'A' was unknown. She was an odd woman, to say the least. Vadim Dolohov didn't care what their children were named or even if they were all his to begin with. Marrying into a proud Sacred Twenty-Eight family had been his goal all along. Once he succeeded, he was content to sit back and enjoy the fruits of his manipulations.

Aubin Dolohov was born fifteen years after his eldest brother. Born with light blond hair that was almost white, it was rumored for many years that he might actually be Abraxas Malfoy's son. Hermione would believe it. He possessed many of the same mannerisms and expressions as his suspected elder brother Lucius. Certainly every time that she'd had the misfortune to be in his presence, Aubin sneered down his nose at her like she was filth. No one in the Fawley family had the same color hair and Elspeth wasn't exactly known for being a virtuous and faithful wife. Partially because of the manner in which he treated his wife, but also for an entire lifetime of reasons that it was best not to dwell on for very long, Antonin and his youngest brother didn't have much use for each other.

"Why are we staying here, Antonin? I can't imagine your brother is thrilled with the idea of his Mudblood sister-in-law polluting his precious sheets."

He narrowed his eyes at the slur. Even in jest, he despised when anyone, including Hermione herself, called his wife that word.

"I asked him if I could borrow it months ago. He spends all of his time in Italy as it is. I don't think he's even been back in three years. Not since…"

"Not since that Christmas he called me a whore and then asked me how much I would charge him by the hour."

Antonin cleared his throat. It had been a memorable holiday to say the least. She'd almost murdered her brother-in-law. Part of her was convinced that no one, including her husband, would've minded if she did. Except Alexandre, third in the line of brothers between Alain and Aubin, was fast enough to cast a shield charm between them. She hated to admit that she still carried a little bit of resentment around for the quiet man who inexplicably loved his baby brother.

"Yes, well, no one will suspect we're here, and as only one other person knows we will be living here, it should be safe."

"Is that why you didn't want to tell Augie where we were going?"

"I couldn't tell Gus. Hannah agreed to help me cast the Fidelius Charm and be our Secret Keeper. Only she is able to tell anyone where we are, and I trust her not only with my life, but more importantly, with your life and Ollie's."

She knew it was no small gesture to trust Hannah with the Secret. And she had to admit that she could see the genius in the plan. No one would suspect Hannah of being their Secret Keeper. Usually quiet and unassuming like most of the Hufflepuffs Hermione had the privilege of knowing, few in their society appreciated how fiercely loyal and protective she could be. Hannah would never betray them even if someone was clever enough to suspect her. And she highly doubted anyone actually was.

It didn't take them long to settle in to the snug cottage. At half the size of even their home in Hogsmeade, there wasn't much to it. But, it was nice and comfortable. Hermione could see little thoughtful touches all over the small house that were further proof that Hannah had a part in ensuring they lacked for nothing. It was one more reason to make her feel guilty for not being a better friend to the Hufflepuff over the years. At least she could take solace in the fact that she never seduced her husband… after they were married, of course. There would've been no point in trying really. Thorfinn didn't even look at other women. Hannah and his girls were his entire world.

Still, despite the cupboards filled with food and her husband's assurances that they would be safe living in his brother's rarely used cottage, Hermione still would've preferred sleeping outside under a bridge. She didn't trust Aubin. Anything connected with the cretin should be treated with suspicion. Even in the worst days of her potions addiction, she never allowed her son to be alone with his uncle. Not that she suspected he would try to harm Oliver in any way, physically or otherwise, but because she didn't want him to poison their son against his parents, his mother especially. If Aubin had been a Death Eater, he would've fit right in with the likes of Theodore Nott Senior. He probably would've even laughed at Nott's disgusting reminder that Hermione was nothing more than "entertainment". Likely would've even been willing to show her exactly what he meant personally.

"Let's just try to make the most of it. Our options were limited."

Hermione knew she was frustrating her husband with her concerns about his brother's house, but she couldn't help it. Aubin had no loyalty to anyone but himself. When Antonin's parents died, Aubin was sent to live with their Fawley grandparents. While Alexandre was also still underage when the Dolohovs met their mysterious end in Russia, he was already sixteen and spent most of the year at Hogwarts. Aubin was only ten and easily influenced by the nasty, proud Fawleys. Why Vadim Dolohov was so insistent on wedging his way into one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families, Hermione would never understand.

"All right, Antonin, I'm sorry. I trust you. Your brother however…"

Antonin was smart enough to cut her next words off with a searing kiss that she couldn't ignore. All of the tension she'd been holding on to since seeing their son off to Hogwarts and being confronted by Rodolphus began to melt away. And, if she was perfectly honest with herself, she found more than a little satisfaction in desecrating the sanctity of Aubin's personal bed with her husband. He certainly had an effective way to help her forget her fears.

Part of her was afraid that once they settled in to the new safe house that Antonin would immediately run off on another mysterious errand he was reluctant to talk about. She had her suspicions that he might be meeting with a private contact within the Resistance organization, but couldn't be certain. To her great relief, Antonin didn't run off. Following their very thorough christening of the new bed, he stayed there for the rest of the night and well into the next morning. In fact, they even both lingered in bed until the sun was up, practically unheard of during most of their marriage. There was no reason to rush off.

"How do you think Ollie's first night back in the castle was?"

Antonin pulled Hermione into his arms. If he was pleased that she seemed to finally be taking an interest in their son, he didn't say so out loud. She knew it made him happy though. Even living in her ex-lover's house on the run from those who meant them harm, they'd been the happiest together as a family that they'd ever been in thirteen years of marriage. She knew she had the absence of potions and memory charms to thank for that development.

"I'm sure he ate entirely too much at the Welcoming Feast and stayed up way too late with his little mates in the common room."

"Do you think that some of the other students will be mean to him?"

"Were any of the other students mean to you when you were in school?"

She sighed, hating how cruel children could be to each other. Of course, most of them were only imitating the terrible adults in their lives.

"I'm sure there will be some that will be unkind, but Ollie is a likable kid on his own. Most of them will come around."

"I had no idea he was so funny."

It hurt her to realize how little she knew about her own son. He was nothing like she remembered or imagined. She wasn't sure she would ever forgive herself for her failures as a mother.

"He does take after his papa, after all, and I'm hilarious."

Hermione couldn't stop the amused snort that came out at her husband's statement. It was a side of him very few were privileged to see. She kissed him and laughed.

"You're not nearly as funny as you think you are."

"Oh, I highly doubt that. If anything, I'm probably even funnier than I give myself credit for."

All worries about how their son was faring in the castle were pushed aside temporarily to the back of their minds as they laughed and enjoyed simply being in each other's company.