September 20th

She'd wallowed long enough. Waiting around for Antonin to return when she was certain that he wouldn't was ridiculous. It was an insane waste of time. Hermione was better than that. She knew that she couldn't just sit around and watch her life pass her by, upset that her plans didn't go as she wished. Adaptation was key. If she wanted to keep going in the uncertainty of their world, she had to figure out how she could change and how she could mold her plans.

Despite Antonin's callous statement that she no longer had to worry about Oliver, she could do nothing but worry about her son. Julia Lestrange was ordered to attack her son by her horrible father. Nothing would convince Hermione otherwise. She didn't understand the reasoning behind the attack unless it was simply to ensure that they were all gathered in the same place so Rabastan could tell Antonin her secrets. With them in hiding, the only way anyone could be certain that they'd come out of it was if their son was in danger. She hoped that it wasn't more serious than that. As much as she'd never cared for Rabastan's eldest daughter, she wanted to believe that the girl wasn't capable of murder.

Hermione made the decision that she was going to ignore Antonin's demands. She had every right as Oliver's mother to worry about him. Needing to see with her own two eyes that he was well and wishing to have a talk with the Headmaster while she was there, she made the journey back to Hogwarts. It was the middle of the day. She expected that most of the students were in classes and Temeritus Mulciber would have some time meet with her to discuss what was going to happen to Julia Lestrange next. She'd vote for expulsion and possibly arrest if given the option.

The Headmaster was standing in the middle of the empty Entrance Hall in almost the same place he was the night she and her husband rushed to the castle. Evidently, he was waiting for her, prepared to face down a potentially irate parent. Wards surrounding the grounds must've alerted him to an additional presence that didn't belong there and it was a long walk from the gates. He would have plenty of time to reach the Entrance Hall before his visitor did.

"Good afternoon, Hermione. I'd say that I'm surprised to see you, but I'm not."

"Temeritus. I've come to see with my own eyes that my son is still in one piece. Would it be possible to pull him out of class for a short visit?"

She didn't miss the shadow that fell over the man's face at her question. Too many years in her position taught her how to tell when a person was holding back information. There was more to the story than the Headmaster wanted to tell her. Her mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario. Had there been another attack? Was that wretched Julia able to finish what she began? Hermione narrowed her eyes at the man, not caring about the fact that he outweighed her by several stone and was a full head taller. She would have her answers even if she had to resort to violence against the strict policy in the castle. Realizing that he would ultimately be no match for the determined woman, Temeritus sighed.

"Your son is still in the infirmary."

"But you said that you expected him to be released the next day. Did something else happen?"

"No, he's been there since the accident. His injuries were more extensive than I led you to believe. I simply didn't want to worry you, Hermione."

"Oh, that's a likely story."

Her many trips to the hospital ward during her years as a student meant that she could've found her way there in her sleep. Not even bothering to check to see if the Headmaster was following her, she climbed the stairs to the first floor. With her heart in her throat the entire journey, she didn't calm down until she saw her son sitting up reading one of his schoolbooks. Though he was still a little pale, he looked much better than he did the night of his attack.

"Mum!"

Dropping a kiss on the top of his head, Hermione held her son against her for several long seconds just to prove to herself that he was actually there. Only when he complained that she was squishing him and what if someone he knew walked in and saw her hugging him did she release her grip. She took a seat next to his bed in a chair, thankful that he seemed perfectly whole.

"Madam Pomfrey thinks I can go back to my dormitory tonight."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"It's very boring in here."

She chuckled. That was a lesson she learned the hard way herself in her younger years. In fact, in her second year, she spent a large portion of it stuck in one of the awful beds completely petrified thanks to the basilisk. She was glad to know that Harry killed the beast. Imagining a monster like that still moving through the school her son was attending would've made it impossible for her to ever sleep again.

"Fred has been dropping by though. He likes to tell me stories."

Almost as if she was afraid that the newest Gryffindor ghost was going to sneak up on them while they sat there, Hermione scanned the room. Even after twenty years since he was killed she wasn't sure that she could bear to see him as a ghost. It was too sad. She relaxed again when she saw no signs that he'd arrived.

"How did you turn yourself into a cat, Mum?"

On second thought, she considered it wouldn't be such a bad thing to see the ghost if for no other reason than to tell him to stop telling her child stories she wasn't ready for him to know yet. She didn't even know how he knew that story. Fred wasn't a part of the polyjuice plan. Moaning Myrtle. No doubt the horrible sobbing ghost took great delight in telling that story to every ghost who would listen.

"I'm not telling you that, Ollie. You don't need to know. It might give you awful ideas and it looks like you're more than capable of getting into enough trouble all on your own. Will you please promise me that you will try to be more careful?"

She stayed in the infirmary for at least an hour. When her son's eyes began to droop thanks to the potions Poppy Pomfrey was still insisting that he take, she kissed the top of his head again and took her leave. Even though he was still in the hospital ward, she felt less worried about him. Madam Pomfrey took excellent care of her when she was a child. There was no reason to believe that she wouldn't do the same for her son.

Only steps outside of the hospital ward, Hermione came face to face with her son's attacker. Clearly whatever injuries that Julia Lestrange endured were not very serious as she was out and moving around. When the young witch saw the mother of her victim, she tried to side-step her, but Hermione was too fast. She wanted to look the horrible girl in the face to impose upon her the seriousness of her actions. She did not want her as an enemy.

"Here to finish what you started?"

Julia was too young and arrogant to understand that she was in danger. Throwing her shoulders back, she was defiant. She wouldn't allow the older witch to intimidate her. It was a personality trait that would one day get her into a great deal of trouble.

"I never wanted to kill the brat."

"Then what did you want, Julia?"

Some of her false bravado began to crack, showing how young she actually was. No, this girl wouldn't last five minutes under an interrogation on Level Eleven. If Rabastan truly wanted his daughter to work as one of his operatives, she needed a great deal more training. She would buckle under the slightest pressure.

"My father just wanted him hurt badly enough that both of his parents would come to the castle."

Part of Hermione's theory about why her son was attacked began to make sense. Rabastan probably planned the whole incident of accidentally mentioning her secret in front of Antonin. For what reason she was unsure. Maybe to get Antonin to kill her or something else entirely. Like she'd discovered many times in the past, the Lestranges played the long game. The reasons for their actions and plots rarely were immediately clear.

"Be better than your father, Julia. You don't want to end up like him."

She was only two steps away from the girl when she heard the unmistakable word 'whore' thrown in her direction. It wasn't the first time she'd been called that and she knew it wouldn't be the last. Not wishing to allow the girl to believe that she'd managed to win the upper hand, Hermione turned back around. Startled that she wasn't leaving, fear was splashed across Julia's face. Yes, she was one of the nasty people who was perfectly happy spewing rubbish behind someone's back, but terrified if they turned back around. She wouldn't last long in their world. Deciding that she wouldn't allow Hermione to intimidate her, Julia tried to make it seem like she wasn't afraid.

"You ruined my parents' marriage."

Hermione didn't mean to laugh, but it was too damn funny.

"I'm afraid I don't have that much power. Your parents are responsible for their own shitty marriage."

"They could've been happy if you stayed out of my father's bed."

"Yes, well, your mother could've stayed out of my husband's bed too."

Furious and unsure what to say in response, Julia stormed away in a heated temper. Hermione chuckled to herself, thankful that she didn't have to worry about raising an awful child like her. She almost felt sorry for Rabastan. Almost.

"That was unkind."

Spinning around on her heel, she found the Headmaster approaching her with a hint of a smirk on his lips. Clearly he wasn't as bothered by the display as his words would indicate.

"So was what she did to my son."

"My priorities are with my students, Hermione. I can't have you dropping by to upset them."

She could feel her own temper begin to rise. Was he seriously going to blame her for what just happened? Julia Lestrange all but admitted she was trying to harm her son and she was the one getting chastised. She still wanted to get her son out of that school. The standards had evidently gone way down since she was a student. Sensing she was upset, Temeritus lowered his voice and closed the short distance between them to speak in a whisper.

"You need to be careful with that one. She's nastier than her father and her mother combined, and you know that's saying something."

Temeritus winked at her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry about Ollie. I am personally keeping my eye on him."

Hermione felt slightly better knowing that. Mulciber was a Death Eater certainly, but unlike many of them, he did possess a great deal of honor. It would go against his code if he gave her a promise that he didn't keep. The hand that was on her shoulder slid down her arm to rest on her elbow.

"Remember that night after the raid on the Resistance outpost in Leeds?"

Maybe he didn't have as much honor as she always assumed. Rolling her eyes, she knew what he was referring to. There had been a rather raucous celebration when they managed to destroy a safe house belonging to the Resistance and capture several of their enemies. Stuck between the time Augustus decided she would be better off without him in her life and when he finally got his head out of his arse, she'd been free to enjoy the temptations of the night. For a reason she couldn't remember, she'd managed to get paired off with the future Headmaster. It had been pleasurable but not an experience she wished to ever repeat.

"How's your wife, Temeritus?"

"Fat."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Some men were hardly better than animals.

"I was sorry to hear about Antonin kicking you out."

"Gossiping with the paintings, have you?"

"The weather's about to turn cold. If you find you need a warm bed, mine's always available."

Removing her arm from his grip, she said her goodbyes and made her excuses to leave the castle. She'd rather freeze to death than take him up on his offer.