September 13th

Whether or not it was her intention to admit to Antonin that she wished to continue working on improving their marriage, that was certainly the implication that attached itself to Hermione's words and then to the actions she committed that pleasurable afternoon. Her husband was in a much better mood than she could remember him being in for months. Maybe even years. There was an excitement in him that she wasn't even sure she'd seen before. She hoped that she wasn't wrong to give him hope about the future. Everything was still so uncertain and dangerous. But, if she was completely honest with herself, when she imagined running off to Brazil, she no longer imagined doing so alone. She couldn't even imagine doing it without Antonin and Oliver. A great deal about her life had changed since January.

They were both in agreement that the price Draco was asking for the list was too high. Though he didn't know the identity of her source, Antonin wouldn't have supported her going to bed with any other man. Not that he was in the habit of doing so before, of course. He simply tried to ignore it when he suspected it was happening. Each of them believed that they could be proactive and try to discreetly inform anyone they might suspect to be on Rodolphus' radar to be careful. No doubt it seemed like an obvious concern to some of Antonin's closest supporters that they were in danger. The ones that they were concerned about were the ones that Rodolphus and his faction suspected that might not be accurate. Even though neither of the Dolohovs had anything remotely resembling a sparking clean record in the past, they didn't want to bring danger and destruction to innocent victims just because they were assumed to be working together. It wasn't fair and it could help their cause in the long run to bring some of them over to their side.

Antonin kissed his wife goodbye after breakfast to make his excuses. Hermione didn't have the first clue where he was spending his days and some of his evenings, but she didn't care. She trusted her husband. That was another development that crept on her without her even realizing. Years passed since she last felt the same. She knew that he was sincere when he told her he would do anything to keep his family safe. Besides, she wasn't even sure that she wanted to know what he did. It might make her too nervous.

She'd only been alone in the cottage a little over an hour when there was a knock at the door. Her suspicious nature wouldn't allow her to calm her racing heart until she opened the door to reveal a smiling Hannah Rowle standing just outside with a basket in her arms and another letter from their son in her hand.

"Let me make some tea."

"No, Hermione. Let me. Read Ollie's letter. I'll do it."

It was an offer that she didn't want to refuse. Every single day Hermione worried about her son. What was happening in the castle? Was he safe? She dropped into a chair at the kitchen table to tear open the sealed missive. Almost instantly she felt a churning in her gut. He might have been trying to put a positive spin in his letter, but she could read between the lines. Less than two weeks into the first term and things were not going well inside the castle.

"Bad news?"

Hannah's expression of concern as she poured them both tea helped to calm Hermione only slightly. She knew without a doubt that the Hufflepuff loved her son very much. Maybe even more than she did. Or, at least, she'd loved him longer than his actual mother. She was still trying to figure out how to feel for her son. Love was there even if it still felt odd and foreign.

"Ollie's not saying so exactly, but I think he's in some trouble."

Nothing in the letter was a secret that needed to be kept from Hannah. She handed it over to the other witch for her own opinion. Hermione watched her read it as she sipped at her cup of tea. The wrinkling in her forehead proved that she wasn't being overly paranoid. There was something to her son's words. Though she hoped that he wouldn't ever have need to be covert in his letters in the future, he had a lot to learn. When she was finished, Hannah folded it back up and sighed.

"I'll write Emmy a letter when I get home to very carefully keep an eye on him. It certainly sounds like he's making enemies in the castle."

"I appreciate the offer. I'm sure Ollie won't mind at all if she spends more time with him."

The mothers shared a knowing smile. Their children were too young to consider the future, but it was so innocent and sweet that they were almost envious. They each had the rest of their lives ahead of them to look forward to. Some days Hermione had the sinking feeling that she had more to look back on than she did to look forward to. It was a macabre thought that she always tried to instantly suppress. What was the point in continuing to live if she insisted on being so depressing?

"I worry about my girls constantly. Finn thinks I'm being unreasonable, says that it's nothing like it used to be with Headmaster Mulciber in charge, but after what I experienced in the castle…"

Almost as soon as the words came out of her mouth, Hannah looked embarrassed. She sipped at her cup for a reason to keep from speaking. It was the first time in twenty years that she'd even hinted there was something awful that happened to her when the war ended. Antonin knew more than Hermione did, but he refused to tell his wife. Said that it wasn't his story to tell and he didn't feel right telling her. Evidently the few interactions the two witches had in recent days calmed Hannah enough to feel comfortable being so open. As much as Hermione didn't want to push, she got the impression that she wanted to talk about it.

"Hannah, what exactly happened to you when the battle was over?"

Twenty years later and the memory of it could still bring heavy tears to the woman's blue eyes. She set her cup down on the table to brush them away with her hand, but not before Hermione saw them. In the days or weeks that she was trapped in her broom cupboard, Hermione heard screams on several occasions. She never wanted to try to discern whether or not she recognized the bodies they belonged to. During that horrible time, she only had enough energy to keep herself breathing. Any additional thoughts or concerns for someone outside of the broom cupboard had to be pushed away for her own survival. She knew without pressing for an answer that at least one of the screams belonged to Hannah.

"When Harry died, the castle was in chaos."

"Yes, it was. I remember."

"You and Ron were brought down almost immediately, but the rest of us… we tried to run. Some of us were even successful. Neville held my hand so tightly that I thought I would lose all feeling in it. We were in love. Did you know that?"

Hermione shook her head. Their relationship must have happened in the last year while she was away on the horcrux hunt. She was pleased to discover that Neville Longbottom hadn't died without experiencing what it meant to be in love. Such a simple thing that so many people took for granted.

"He was my first love, my first kiss, my first everything. We used to talk about what we'd do when the war was over. Such foolish dreams we had."

"Neville was a very special wizard."

"Yes, he was. He deserved more than what happened to him. I try not to be bitter and angry, but it's hard."

If there was anyone else alive who understood that, it would be Hermione. She couldn't bear to look at the past without feeling like she was going to drown in her anger and bitterness. It was better that she not ever look back. Easier.

"We almost made it out together. We were so close to the edge of the castle grounds, but I tripped. Found out later it was a tripping jinx. Thought I was just being clumsy at the time. He had to make a choice. Either he could stay and try to help me up and be captured with me… or he could run without me."

Hermione summoned a clean dishrag with her wand to hand to Hannah. Tears were falling freely from her eyes. Grateful for the kindness, she wiped at her face before she continued the heartbreaking story.

"The fool wanted to stay. I screamed at him to leave me. It didn't make any sense for both of us to get caught. He didn't want to, but I made him."

"That proves how much he loved you."

"Yes, it does. I don't know everything that happened next. Probably blocked a lot of it out to keep from going mad. All I know is that I was hit with a curse and knocked out. When I came to, I was… I was…"

Her voice was breaking with each word she spoke. Hermione thought that it was highly likely that she hadn't told anyone what happened to her for many years. Thorfinn had to have known. There was very little that the two of them didn't share. But, outside of her marriage? Probably less people than she could count on a single hand knew the story. It was a privilege to know that she trusted Hermione enough to be so open.

"Amycus Carrow always warned me that he would make me pay for being so defiant that last year. That he would take great pleasure in making certain that I knew my place and my value. I woke up in his quarters."

She didn't need to explain any further. Carrow was a dreadful, disgusting man who had no business being around children. Hermione would never regret killing him in such a painful way as long as she lived. He deserved much worse than he got.

"If it hadn't been for Thorfinn and your husband finding me days later, I'm not sure I would've survived. My body might have continued to live, but not my mind. Some days I fear that the bastard took a part of that from me anyway."

And again, Hermione could relate. She hated that they were just children fighting a war they never should've been in. Their lives, their futures were ruined by the adults that should've known better. It was all so bloody unfair that she wanted to scream and rip her hair out. And now they were dooming their children to be involved in the same mess? Hannah's daughter would be keeping watch over Hermione's son to keep him from being harmed. She wanted nothing more than to run to Hogwarts that very second and drag their children out of the hateful castle. Maybe the Dolohovs could persuade the Rowles to join them in Brazil. It would feel more like home if they had friends with them.

"Thorfinn told me how you killed him, Hermione. I've never had the chance to thank you for that. Part of me resents you a little because I wish I could've been the one to do it."

There might have been a slight smile on Hannah's lips as she said so, but Hermione could hear the truth in her words. Loyalty was a fierce trait of any good Hufflepuff that most took for granted. She would've been brutal and exacting. Part of Hermione wished she'd allowed Hannah to do the honors.

"I'll let you help me kill Alecto if you want. Almost as good."

Hannah laughed at the offer, but it was clear to her hostess that she was seriously considering it. Their conversation turned to much less serious topics. Only a quarter of an hour later the front door opened unexpectedly to admit Antonin. Pleased to see Hannah there, he kissed her cheek and begged her not to run off on his account. She made an excuse about needing to get home. Wrapping Hannah tightly in her arms, Hermione hugged her close before she let her leave. What she shared with her that day was no small thing. They were closer than they'd ever been before. She thought it was a shame that they hadn't been friends earlier.

The moment that the front door closed behind Hannah, Hermione crossed the room to throw her arms around her husband. Startled by the sudden affection, Antonin hesitated a few moments before enveloping his wife in his embrace. Tears rolled out of Hermione's eyes that she didn't bother with brushing away.

"Thank you."

"For what, my love?"

"Thank you for keeping me safe after the battle. Even if it wasn't you outside of my cupboard… it was because of you that I was safe. I could've easily ended up like… without you, I could've…"

She could get the words out. It wasn't necessary. Her husband held her tighter, whispering promises that he would keep her protected as long as he drew breath. She believed him.