September 3rd

Their new safe house was quiet, very quiet. Sometimes too quiet. Hermione wasn't aware of how easily she'd gotten used to the sound of the ocean waves just a stone's throw away from her bedroom window in Cornwall. The cadence of the waves lulled her to sleep and gave her something to focus on when her mind drifted aimlessly from topic to topic. Tucked away in the cottage in the middle of the countryside somewhere in the Cotswolds, she missed the ambient sounds she'd become used to. Birdsong annoyed her more often than it soothed her. The rustling of leaves in the slight breezes didn't help much either.

Her mind wandered too far when she didn't have much to do. Forcing herself to stop worrying about Oliver and how he was doing since returning to the castle, a task she knew would ultimately prove impossible, she sat in one of the oversized chairs in the main room of the cottage going over the events of two days earlier. It was all she'd been able to think about since it happened. Rodolphus' abrupt arrival shouldn't have been a surprise, but it was. Likely he was there in an effort to get some sort of reaction out of Antonin. Her husband's desire to find the wretched man the night he attacked Rabastan and Marcus Flint would've gotten back to the ringleader of their group at some point. No doubt he wanted to say something that would force Antonin to disregard the truce that had been set up to protect the students and their parents that day. Not only would it show Antonin as being unstable and untrustworthy and therefore, not someone they should follow, it would have also given the Lestranges an excuse to get rid of her husband once and for all.

She hated how devious the whole plan was. Maybe once upon a time she enjoyed the intrigue of plotting and planning, but no longer. If she could go the rest of her life without getting involved in something dangerous, she would be happy. But, of course, she also considered the words that Ron Weasley spoke to them both in a hushed whisper. He was inviting them both to join whatever faction he'd joined. As much as she was initially tempted to tell her old friend to bugger off with his rebellious group, the more she considered her options, the better she liked the idea of at least finding out what he had to offer. There was a war in another lifetime that they fought side by side. Would she be able to absolve at least some of her guilt for how her life turned out if she could fight once more on a side that was good? She didn't know if that was what Ron was offering though. He'd been able to give her such little information that she couldn't make an informed decision.

"I'm going to check in with Corban for a few hours. Will you be all right here by yourself?"

Antonin's concern for her was sweet, even if it could get a little tiresome. She wasn't some helpless child after all. Once he explained his concerns that she wasn't up to being the same cold-blooded fighter she used to be and he wanted to have the opportunity to be it for her, she'd been able to appreciate more what he was trying to do for her. Unfortunately, protection could often feel like coddling and smothering. He was doing the best that he knew how to do. If he was clumsy and heavy-handed at times, she needed to be patient and understanding, and not be afraid to let him know he was drifting too far over the line. She understood all too well how it felt to be so single-minded, so focused that the feelings and opinions of others, even those she cared about, didn't matter.

"Yes, I'll be fine."

With a swift kiss to her lips, Antonin exited the cottage, leaving her alone once again with the thoughts that were bringing her no comfort whatsoever. Ron encouraged her at Nott's wedding to be sure she didn't pick the losing side again. Did that mean he was confident that he was on the winning one this time? As the other prized pet of the Dark Lord's and eventually, a trusted member of the Inner Circle of Death Eaters, Ron had virtually unlimited access to power and influence. His position within the Auror department in the Ministry of Magic would've also allowed him the opportunity to interact with more serious-minded fighters that rarely crossed Hermione's path. Or Rabastan's, for that matter. Could he be leading an insurgency within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? If so, was Corban Yaxley aware of it? As Head of the Department, he supposedly knew everything that went on in his domain.

Antonin had only been gone about ten minutes when she made her decision to seek out more information. If he could run off and have his own mysterious meetings and missions, so could she. With Oliver safely tucked away at Hogwarts she wasn't under the same oppressive restrictions that she had been with him in the house. All she had to worry about protecting in that moment was herself and wasn't that what she'd been doing for almost thirty-nine years already? Knowing that he would worry if he returned home to find her gone, she scribbled a quick note to her husband to leave on the kitchen table. It was possible that she would be home long before he returned.

Apparating into Hogsmeade wasn't the safest of ideas. She was well aware that there were enemies everywhere in the village. Even those she thought once were her friends could easily turn on her given half a chance. Still, despite the worries and fears that she could be attacked, she focused on the other side of the village than the one she lived in for twenty years, the side with the newer, more fashionable homes. Seconds later, her feet landed in thick grass behind a house she'd seen on her ramblings through the village, but never been inside. It was possible that this would all turn out to be a giant trap. She knew the risks. Ron might have been tasked by Rodolphus via Rabastan to encourage her with just enough tiny, unsatisfying bread crumbs to seek him out in private. She was well aware that the possibility of her walking into an elaborate set-up was likely.

She didn't knock on the front door. Not only was it too exposed to the rest of the neighborhood, but somehow meeting in secret about a rebellion simply called for the back door. Especially since it had been twenty years since she could last call the owner of the house a friend. When it wasn't immediately answered, she grew worried, more and more convinced that she was making a dreadful mistake. Just as she was about to turn around to go back to where she'd just come from, the door to the Weasley kitchen opened.

"Hermione? What are you doing here?"

Ron's expression of surprise was so strong that she knew in an instant that he wasn't planning an ambush or some trap. For the briefest of moments he reminded her so much of the boy he once was that she felt a choking in her throat. Was it possible that they were ever that young? Clearing her throat, she pushed away the echoes of the past. It was better that she not dwell on them.

"You've invited me to join your side twice now. I'd like to ask you some questions."

Scanning the back garden for anyone who might mean them harm, Ron relaxed when he realized she was indeed alone. Stepping back from the door, he invited her inside. It felt strange being there in his home for the first time. There were days in her past when she dreamed of a life where they shared a home together. Foolish dreams of a child really, but powerful nonetheless. The homey smell of baked apples and the leftover scent of the family's breakfast reminded her a great deal of his childhood home. Many nights her dreams were filled with memories of the Burrow.

The sound of small children laughing and playing in the lounge next to the kitchen brought a smile to Ron's face. Hermione could tell that he had been able to find some happiness in his life despite the horrors they were forced to endure. It made her happy for her former friend. Though she wasn't naïve enough to believe that he'd had nothing but joy, she was pleased to learn that he'd been able to carve something worth fighting for out of the ruins of his childhood. He gestured to the large kitchen table for her to take a seat.

"It's been a little quiet around here without the older kids, but I think Romy is glad to have a little bit of a break."

Hermione had to bite back a laugh at Ron's idea of 'quiet'. Evidently he and she had completely different opinions on what that meant exactly.

"She's been exhausted with the baby almost here. A break from all of the madness will be nice."

It felt bizarre for them to be sitting in his kitchen having a polite conversation about his family. Certainly Hermione never expected to have the opportunity or the desire to do so. For twenty years she found it easier to simply ignore the man's existence whenever possible. He represented a lost life that she would never be able to get back, a future that died right along with their best friend. It was too hard to dwell on it.

"I want to know more about this group you're talking about. Who is in it? Is it Rabastan's group?"

"No, it's not. Rabastan and I… well, let's just say that there was a point where we could no longer see eye to eye."

Just as Antonin was ordered to house and train Hermione by the Dark Lord, Rabastan was ordered to do the same with Ron. Up until the day he married Romilda, he'd lived in the Lestrange Manor right alongside his mentor. For all outward appearances, Ron was every bit as loyal to his mentor as he was to the Dark Lord. She was surprised to learn that there had been any dissension whatsoever.

"I'll admit that I've allowed Rabastan to think that I'm still on his side for my own selfish purposes, and because it frightens my wife to imagine him being our enemy, but I've been… disillusioned with him for quite some time now."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, Hermione, I know that we're not friends anymore, and I'm not angry about that. Yes, in the beginning, it did hurt me when you didn't want to talk to me, but I get it. I remind you too much of the past. But, even though we're not friends, I've never stopped caring about you. Never stopped wishing you well."

It meant more to her than she realized that he felt that way. She'd tried to ignore his very existence. Certainly she hadn't wished him well over the years.

"I've known there was a plot against you and Antonin for awhile now. Rabastan filled me in on some of the details. I'm not stupid enough to believe that he would tell me everything. But, it's bad, Hermione."

She wasn't sure she wanted to know anymore than she already did, but she knew she had to ask.

"What is the plot?"

"Discrediting you both was the first step. Rabastan's been working on that for quite a while now. There was more…"

The door to the kitchen opened, revealing Romilda carrying one of their younger children on her hip. Surprised to find them alone, Mrs. Weasley gave her husband a quizzical look.

"Sorry, love. We were talking…"

"Rabastan's at the door for you, Ron."

Hermione's stomach clenched in a tight knot. Of course it was just a coincidence and likely a common enough occurrence over the years due to Rabastan's mentorship and friendship with Ron, but she hated knowing that the horrible man was in the same location. Jumping up to her feet, she knew she had to get out of there as quickly as she could.

"Would you tell him that I'll be right there? And invite him inside. Just… just don't tell him you've seen Hermione."

"Of course."

Romilda might not have had much use for Hermione, but it was clear she loved and trusted her husband. She was already out of the room when their first guest reached the back door.

"Come back tomorrow, Hermione. Please. I want to talk to you."

She wouldn't give him a definitive answer, just ran out of the back door before she could be spotted by the enemy.