September 5th

She'd said too much. Why did she feel like she could be completely honest with Percy Weasley? It wasn't as if they'd ever been close friends or friends of any kind. Sometimes she felt like she was the only person who was friendly to the Weasley brother that never quite seemed to fit in at the Burrow, but that didn't mean Hermione should've told the man who'd been working on the side of her enemies for twenty years something so deeply personal.

Antonin wouldn't appreciate the knowledge that he had no desire to be the Dark Lord to get out. It was the assumption that he was simply biding his time until he chose to take power that kept so much of their society on edge and fearful of him. If it became public knowledge that he was just looking for any excuse to not lead the remnants of the regime, they could be in serious trouble. Once he was no longer considered a serious threat, their enemies might believe that he could be easily dispatched of. As complicated and confusing as her feelings were for her husband, she didn't want him dead.

Hermione wished she hadn't sought Ron Weasley out. It had been a foolish idea. What could he possibly offer her of any value? If Percy used what she said in confidence to him against them… it could be very bad. For the rest of the day and night, she worried that she'd made a mistake that couldn't be undone. She should've remembered that she could never rely on anyone else but herself. Too dangerous. Everyone had their own agenda and if it didn't meet hers exactly, they would only disappoint her.

Trust was not something that was easily gained in the Inner Circle of the Death Eaters. One of her first lessons was to be very careful who she allied herself with. Too bad she made so many errors in judgment. Clearly Rodolphus had been the biggest mistake she could've made. She allowed the man to get too close to her and he used that to his advantage. And she still couldn't explain her issues with Draco. Why did she imagine for even a moment that he could ever be trusted? He had only been using her, manipulating her for his own gains. He hadn't made it a secret that he desired nothing more than a future where he could be proud of his family again. No doubt Rodolphus offered the Malfoys the ability to throw their lot in with him in exchange for the return of their prestige.

"You've been far away for days now. Everything all right?"

Antonin's voice pulled Hermione out of her thoughts. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen sipping at a cold cup of tea, her mind was indeed miles away. Her husband was worried. There seemed to be a perpetual frown on his face when he looked in her direction, a wrinkle in his forehead indicating that he was concerned. She tried to brush it off, but he wasn't a fool. After he asked her a second time, she knew she had to give him some sort of answer.

"Just thinking about Ollie. Worried about him. I'd feel better if he was with us."

Her answer was satisfactory. Sighing, he crossed the kitchen to slide his arms around her waist. She leaned her back against his chest, thankful for the reminder that, at least in that moment, she wasn't alone. If she allowed herself to consider her husband as he desired she would, she might not ever have to worry about being alone again. What should've given her the smallest bit of comfort actually terrified her beyond measure. To be fair, a future of any kind was unsettling to her. There were too many possibilities, too many chances for it to all go very wrong.

"I'd feel better too. Homeschooling him has never seemed like a more attractive option."

"Yes, well, only as long as you are in charge of his lessons. You're the better teacher, Antonin. He'd be miserable with me."

His chuckle and the feel of his lips on the side of her face calmed her down. It was nice to imagine a future where they could be a family away from the horrors and fear of the regime they'd been living under for so long. What would it be like to have nothing more to worry about than whether or not their son was learning all he should in their lessons? Life or death had become so much an integral part of their existence that she wasn't sure that either of the Dolohov adults would even know what to do with themselves if they didn't have to constantly monitor their words and steps for fear of stepping out of line.

A knock at the front and only door of the cottage brought them both crashing back to reality. At least for the present, and possibly for the rest of their lives, they had to treat every single visitor as a potential enemy. Antonin stepped back from her to answer the door. The anxiety in the small house could be strongly felt up until the moment Hannah Rowle was revealed to be standing outside. With a bright smile and a kiss to the witch's cheek, Antonin invited her inside.

"I hope I'm not intruding, but I wanted to check to make sure you two had everything you needed and an owl arrived this morning from the castle for Hermione from Ollie."

"Just for Hermione? Four days away and he's already forgotten his papa? I'm hurt."

Antonin's mock pain and outrage made the women laugh. He made his excuses to slip out of the cottage for a little while. Though he might not have admitted it, Hermione got the impression that he liked being inside his little brother's cottage even less than she did. Some wounds from childhood never quite healed. She hated that his horrible mother and his wretched grandparents always made him feel like he wasn't worthy to be a part of their family.

Once completely alone with Hannah, Hermione missed having Antonin there as a buffer. She was still learning how to navigate through social interactions without the crutch of her potions. So many years of her life were spent under their influence that she often didn't know how to act without them. Thankfully, Hannah could understand that it was all a bit awkward. She smiled warmly as she handed over the letter from Oliver.

"Antonin told Ollie before he left for Hogwarts to send any owls to our house. I'll make sure that they get to you."

Hermione appreciated Hannah's thoughtfulness. Curious to discover why her son would be sending just her a letter and not include his father, she sat down in a chair at the tiny table in the kitchen to read it. Maybe it was rude to not wait until Hannah's visit was over, but she couldn't help it. At least her guest didn't seem to mind. She kept herself busy inspecting the cupboards to make certain they weren't about to run out of food and then brewing them a fresh pot of tea.

Oliver wanted her to know that he'd done exactly as she suggested. On his first night back in the castle, he sought out Fred Weasley's ghost. It still made her heart ache to imagine the wizard as nothing but a pale reflection of his former self. Part of her hoped that she would never have to see him in his transparent form. It would be too hard.

Apparently, Hugo hadn't been aware that the newest ghost of Gryffindor House was his uncle. Why that surprised her she wasn't sure. Of course, if it was difficult for her to imagine seeing Fred in that state when she wasn't even family and hardly even his friend, she could only imagine that it was much worse for Ron. If Hugo brought Fred's ghost up, his father probably wouldn't have answered any of his questions.

Already he'd learned a great deal about her past from the talkative ghost. He claimed that Fred wasn't willing to tell them everything about their parents' antics while they were at school, but they knew more than they ever had before. When he asked in his letter if she really thought that the Room of Requirement was completely destroyed after the Battle of Hogwarts, she was glad that she knew it was. Thinking about her son creating his own Defense Against the Dark Arts group with his little mates was terrifying. What had they been thinking when they were young? So much could've turned out poorly.

"Is he enjoying himself already?"

Hannah took the seat across from Hermione when it was offered with a smile. As she folded up the letter, she laughed and said that she was afraid that it was in his blood to enjoy Hogwarts more than he should. The other witch smiled.

"Ollie is a great kid. I'm sure he'll get into the appropriate amount of trouble befitting a true Gryffindor. Personally, I'm glad my girls are both in Hufflepuff. Though I suspect my youngest will likely end up in Slytherin. She's more like her father than the others."

It felt bizarre to be sitting at a table sipping at tea with Hannah discussing their children. Certainly that was an experience she'd yet to have before with other women she knew. Not only because she had no desire to discuss children, hers or anyone else's, but because very few witches in their society had ever been truly accepting and kind to her. Not that she could blame them for their wariness and suspicion. She had seduced many of their husbands for her own gains. The sudden guilt she felt at being such a rubbish friend over the years struck her deeply right in the chest. While she'd been more than aware growing up that there was a large number of people who despised her, she'd learned to almost take solace in being hated as an adult. Madam Dolohov wasn't a feared persona in the regime for no good reason.

"I'm very sorry that I've been a terrible friend to you, Hannah. You have always treated my family and me with such kindness. You didn't deserve that."

Despite knowing full well that Hermione had a history of being uncomfortable with physical touches from her, Hannah reached across the table to place her hand on top of Hermione's. For once, Hermione didn't feel the need to shake her off or run away. It felt nice to have someone be nice to her for once. She still struggled with believing that a person could genuinely want nothing more than to just be friendly and kind. She would've made a terrible Hufflepuff.

"You did what you had to do to survive, Hermione. I understand that all too well. After the final battle… we all had to do what we needed to survive."

They'd never actually discussed what happened to Hannah in the immediate aftermath of the battle being lost by their side. Hermione never thought she wanted to know. It was evidently a subject that wasn't easy to discuss. Once when she brought it up with Antonin when they were alone, he grew very serious and advised her not to ever ask. Some parts of their past were better left undisturbed.

"I didn't want anything to do with Finn at first. Why he chose to approach me at all was something I didn't understand. Eventually, thanks to his persistence, I began to see the benefit in having him as a friend. He protected me when I really needed it even if it hurt my pride. Of course, that was the best decision I've ever made and I will never regret it for as long as I'm alive, but in the beginning, I was only using him. I've had to learn to forgive myself for that and for a few other choices I made while I was simply trying to survive. I hope that one day you can forgive yourself."

She didn't stay long after that. Clearing away the teacups on the table, Hannah claimed that she had to rush back home, but Hermione knew better. They were just scratching the surface of their mutual pain. Some wounds needed to be left alone.