September 16th

"Your birthday is only a few days away."

Hermione pulled the covers down on the bed and groaned. Why did her husband have to bring up that reminder right before she tried to sleep? Did Antonin want her to be depressed? It wasn't as if she ever looked forward to the day. She wasn't a child any longer after all.

"Yes, it is. Can't we just forget about it this year?"

Antonin leaned across the space between them in bed to kiss her. The amused smile on his face seemed to indicate that he wasn't going to drop the subject so easily.

"Absolutely not. We missed celebrating your birthday together last year. I have to make it extra special this year to make up for it."

She appreciated that he didn't feel the need to remind her why she was gone. To be honest, she couldn't even remember where she'd been for her last birthday. Days on the run tended to bleed together. Besides, it was Antonin who always felt the need to celebrate the day she was born. Left up to her, she would've just preferred to pretend like it didn't exist.

"Can we please not, Antonin? I don't want you to go overboard like you normally do."

Feigning outrage, her husband rolled across the mattress until he was hovering over her form. Fighting back a laugh because she absolutely did not want to encourage him, Hermione swatted lightly at his chest to make him get off her. He smiled, completely undeterred by her gentle physical assault.

"No, we have a lot to celebrate this year. We could, however, stagger the festivities over a few days instead of all at once, if you wish." His lips pressed against the sensitive skin of her neck and his body hid no secrets of his desire from her. "What do you want for your birthday, love?"

"A portkey for the three of us to Brazil."

It was the truth. Each passing day only made her desire for a new life in South America grow. She couldn't imagine anything she wanted more, except for maybe Rodolphus' head on a pike and his worthless brother's right next to his. Since her upsetting conversation with Draco the day before she'd tried, and failed, to remain positive about her hopes for the future with her family. How could one person create such a negative effect in her? He was infuriating.

"Is that really what you want?"

Antonin ceased his delightful touches and kisses to prop himself up on his elbow. Staring down at his wife, it was evident that he was still skeptical. She didn't know what else she had to do to convince him that she meant what she said. While she certainly didn't expect a perfect, happily-ever-after, as if those even existed outside of sappy fairy tales, she knew a fresh start in another country was their best shot. She captured his lips in a kiss.

"Yes, Antonin. That's what I want."

Emboldened by her assurance, her husband resumed his kisses. Hermione thought that if that was what she could hope to experience on her birthday, maybe she was too quick to suggest they ignore it that year. Lost in each other, neither of them heard the first knock on their front door. Only when their late-night visitor pounded harder did they break apart to stare at each other, unsure that they could trust their ears until they heard it a third time. There was only one person it could be and only an emergency would bring her there so late. Both of them scrambled out of the bed at once, fearful of what horrible news Hannah might have to share.

"Ollie was attacked."

Hermione felt her heart leap into her throat. Ripping the letter that she was holding out of Hannah's hand, Antonin scanned the parchment. Based on the dry eyes of the Secret Keeper, Hermione knew that the attack wasn't serious enough to hurt her son terribly, but it was enough to worry her. Antonin pushed the letter into her hands before running back to their bedroom.

To her surprise, the letter wasn't even from the Headmaster. It was Emmy's trembling hand that wrote the note. No doubt she was following her mother's request that she keep a close eye on Oliver. Antonin returned fully dressed with a simple set of robes that Hermione could easily pull over her nightgown. A summoning spell brought her shoes flying across the cottage.

"Thank you, Hannah. We're going to Hogwarts."

Though it couldn't have taken more than a few minutes, Hermione was certain that the trip to her former school would never end. Every step towards the castle seemed to bring them no closer to their goal. She was worried about Oliver, terrified that she'd failed him. Hogwarts was supposed to be safe. If Antonin would agree, she would gladly take their son with them back to the cottage. She'd even be willing to teach him herself until they could get out of the country. Hopefully, Castelobruxo would be a safer school. She needed to find out more about the school from those who'd actually been there. Books would tell her nothing useful. After all, she'd read Hogwarts, A History countless times and never once did it mention the possibility of mountain trolls in the girls' lavatory or a three-headed dog.

Headmaster Temeritus Mulciber must've been informed by the castle wards that he had irate parents approaching. He waited for the Dolohovs to enter the Entrance Hall with a stoic expression, clearly resigned to what was sure to be an unpleasant encounter. A large part of his job was dealing with angry parents after all. One of the Death Eaters from Antonin's generation, not a lot upset Temeritus. Hermione found him to be a serious man, but dedicated to his position. With three children of his own who were still in the castle and one set to attend in the next few years, he took his job very seriously, more so even than previous Headmasters. Having his own children there upped the stakes for him, gave him even more of an incentive to make sure the thousand year old institution ran smoothly and safely.

"Good evening, Antonin, Hermione."

"Why did you not send us an owl that our son was attacked?"

Antonin was furious enough that he didn't even bother with pleasantries. Truthfully, he looked as if he was only moments away from snapping the other wizard's neck in his bare hands. Nothing upset him more than a threat against his child. Knowing his former comrade for decades helped Temeritus understand how best to handle the terrified father.

"Oliver is all right. Just a broken arm. Nothing to worry yourself about. Worse happens in Quidditch games."

"Where is he?"

Temeritus sighed. He knew that he wasn't going to get rid of them so easily. Gesturing to the main staircase with his hand, he led them up to the first floor where the Hospital Wing was located. None of Antonin's questions were answered until they were inside the familiar room standing just a few steps away from the bed where their son was asleep.

"Madam Pomfrey was able to set the arm without any issue. Oliver was given a potion to sleep through the night to prevent any further injury while it heals. I've been assured that he will likely be released in the morning."

"What happened, Temeritus? You're not telling us everything."

Hermione placed a comforting hand on Antonin's arm hoping that it would help to calm him down. Though she might have been just as rattled and angry about what happened to their son, she was somehow managing to hold it in better than her husband. Sometimes he could be surprisingly emotional.

"A suit of armor wasn't properly secured and it fell on him."

"That's not what happened!"

All three adults were startled by the sudden appearance of a furious Emmy Rowle from behind the curtains surrounding Oliver's bed. They'd been unable to see her from the angle they were standing. With tear tracks down her cheeks and her blonde hair showing signs that she'd been running her hands through it, it was evident that the third year was distraught.

"Miss Rowle, I ordered you to return to your common room over an hour ago. You have no business still being here."

Possessed of the same dogged determination that often caused problems for her stubborn father, the young witch wasn't afraid of her Headmaster. She turned her attention to the parents of the injured boy, friends that she'd known her entire life.

"It was pushed on top of Ollie. It wasn't an accident at all."

"Is that true, Temeritus?"

"We're still unsure of the details. We will look into it further in the morning, see if we can find any potential suspects."

"You know it was her!"

Emmy pointed further down the line of beds where another bed was partially shielded by screens. Not enough to hide the identity of the occupant however. Nor did it hide the fact that seventh year Julia Lestrange was still very much awake and listening in to their conversation with wide, frightened eyes. It didn't take a skilled interrogator like Hermione to know what Emmy spoke the truth. Whatever happened to their son, Rabastan's eldest daughter was behind it.

"Miss Rowle, that is a very serious accusation and not one that you should make lightly."

"Why else is she here, Headmaster? She crushed her own foot trying to hurt Ollie."

"Now that is quite enough, Miss Rowle."

Neither Emmy nor Antonin were bothered by Temeritus' blustering. Antonin placed his hands gently on the distressed girl's shoulders to stare into her eyes. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. Knowing that she was telling the complete truth without needing to ask another question, he pulled her into his arms, comforting her as she sobbed into his middle with her arms wrapped around his back. The poor girl had had a horrible evening. Grateful to have someone believe her, she relaxed in the safe embrace of the man who was practically her uncle.

"Temeritus, we demand to see our daughter at once."

The sound of Rabastan's voice sent a chill up Hermione's spine. She was certain she would never get used to hearing it again. Turning just enough to glance over her shoulder, she watched as Rabastan and Gemma entered the Hospital Ward. While it shouldn't have been a surprise to encounter the concerned parents of the only other patient on the ward, Hermione wished they would go away.

"Emmy, darling, I think it's best that you go to your common room now. We'll make sure this all gets sorted out."

Only Antonin's soft-spoken request was enough to get the girl to leave. With one last look at Oliver laying asleep in his bed with his arm propped up on a pillow, Emmy left the room. Hermione watched her go, wishing selfishly that she would stay. The other adults were less likely to speak so freely with a child in the room.

"What a surprise to see you here, Antonin. Hello, Hermione."

Fearful that her husband was about to do something rash to the horrible man, Hermione took her hand in his. No one present in the room missed the movement. A smile even spread across Rabastan's wretched lips when he saw it. Antonin squeezed her hand, thankful that she was with him. Together, they had nothing to fear from Lestrange.

"Why wouldn't we be here, Rabastan? Considering your daughter pushed a suit of armor on top of our son? He could've been killed."

"Now, now, Antonin. We don't know that's the truth. Let's just ask Julia what really happened."

"I don't need to listen to a word that comes out of a Lestrange's mouth. It's all lies."

Rabastan's eyes narrowed at the insult, some of his mirth dissipating. Realizing that he wasn't going to be able to get the rise he wished out of Antonin, he turned to look Hermione in the eyes. She felt her chest constrict. Whatever happened next wasn't going to be pretty.

"I'm surprised to see you here, Hermione. Didn't think you cared much for your son."

"What a horrible thing to say. Of course I do."

"Really? Well, if you're so serious about your duty as a mother, why did you take such pains to rid yourself of the other children you were blessed with?"

She felt the room begin to spin ever so slightly and she was certain she was about to be sick.