October 1st

Between her long nap after getting out of St. Mungo's and the passionate row she'd had with her infuriating husband, Hermione wasn't able to get back to sleep until the next morning was almost upon her. The first rays of sunshine were beginning to creep in through the cracks in the window coverings when she finally could no longer keep her eyes open. None of her Healers would be pleased to know that she wasn't resting as she was ordered. She had to rely on one of the damned pain potions they prescribed her just to be numb long enough to quiet the frustrating voices in her head reminding her over and over again what a miserable failure she was. And it wasn't even as if the numbness was all that effective. Drinking their potion only made her crave hers all the more. She resolved not to touch another one again.

Her schedule was completely out of sequence when she woke up again in the empty cottage. Night was beginning to fall. Somehow it felt wrong to do all of her living in the dark hours. It reminded her too much of the years she was a loyal Death Eater tasked with flushing out the regime's enemies. Many of her most brutal and memorable interrogations took place when the rest of the world was asleep.

It was too easy to lose herself inside of her thoughts at nighttime. And there was plenty she could think about. While she soaked in the surprisingly comfortable bathtub the cottage possessed in an attempt to soothe her body of its lingering aches, her mind kept replaying her discussion with Antonin from the night before. Clearly she didn't think she'd tortured herself enough yet.

She regretted how it ended even if she didn't regret a single word she said. Antonin hurt her when he didn't sleep in the bed next to her. Maybe it was just a small thing that she blew up to immense and ridiculous proportions, but she didn't think so. He was a man who struggled to keep his hands off of his wife during normal circumstances. Even in the past when they were miserable and there was so much unnecessary anger and drama he couldn't get enough of her. She was his illegal potion. To have him sleep in another room made her feel unwanted. It was a terribly lonely feeling she loathed.

They needed to talk about Ginny and his role within the Resistance. Even if he didn't want to be around her any longer than absolutely necessary, she had a right to know as his wife what sort of dangerous activities he was engaged in. If he got himself killed, she and Oliver would be all alone. She had to understand the risks he was taking.

It was surprising to know how long he'd been working with the Resistance. He was right to get Augustus involved. She wouldn't have believed that her husband really wanted to keep her protected. In the haze and confusion of the charms in her head, she didn't trust the man. She actually believed he wanted to kill her. Once her mind was clear and she was able to take a step back to review the entire picture, she understood that even at his angriest, Antonin didn't want her dead. She would always have a place etched into the meat of his heart. Even if he never spoke to her again, she was secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't hurt her. He couldn't hurt her.

There was so much about the recent past she wished she could change. Cutting Rabastan's tongue from his head before he could willfully blurt out her secrets to her husband was at the top of the list. Every moment she was awake she also dwelled on Hannah's murder. It was her fault. She should've been more insistent that they stay inside the safety of her home. The attack was a deliberate reminder to Hermione that she couldn't allow anyone close enough to help her again. Rodolphus was brutal and exacting in his methods. Murdering Hannah sent out a clear message that he would stop at nothing to keep their allies away. He wanted her isolated, afraid. Disgusting man.

She worried about Thorfinn. How was he handling his beloved wife's murder? Not well, would be her guess. Hannah was everything to her husband. Once she learned her history following the war and how Thorfinn desired nothing more than to keep her protected, she knew that he was devastated. She hated herself for being so selfish that she hadn't yet stopped to think of the ones Hannah left behind. How were her girls? Were Daisy and Emmy still in the castle or did they leave in a depressing recreation of their mother's sixth year when she left Hogwarts after her mother's murder?

If Hermione knew Thorfinn, and she knew she did, he wouldn't be taking care of himself. Once out of the bath she dressed and went straight to the kitchen. While she certainly wasn't the greatest of cooks, she had a few delicious meals she knew how to prepare. Ignoring that it was already after nine and hardly the time for a social visit, she tucked the food she placed in a stasis charm under one arm and headed for Hogsmeade. Thorfinn made sure she had enough to eat when she was on the run. Returning the favor was the least she could do.

No one answered when she knocked on the front door. Though it made her uneasy to stand outside waiting, she gave it a few minutes to see if someone would eventually answer. When no one did, she turned the doorknob, surprised to find it unlocked. Was Thorfinn so far gone in his grief that he wasn't taking proper precautions? Surely he knew he was at risk too. It was just irresponsible and she hoped Alice and her sisters weren't there.

One step inside the Rowles' usually immaculate house worried Hermione that she was walking into even further evidence of Rodolphus' campaign against their friends. Hannah took pride in keeping her home tidy and organize. The space Hermione stepped into was anything but clean. It looked as if it had been ransacked or a fierce duel fought inside. Everything was broken. Glass littered the floor. All of the furniture was in pieces. The scene in the kitchen was much the same. She had to clear off broken dishes to set the food she brought on the table. Afraid of what she might find if she kept searching, but needing to know if Thorfinn was all right, she ran through the house looking for any signs of life.

Thorfinn's massive body lay facedown on the floor of the bedroom he shared with his wife. Hermione felt her eyes fill up with tears at the sight. The room was ruined just like all of the others. Glass shards covered the floor. Did Antonin know about the fate of his best friend? She took a single step inside, crunching on glass. The sound seemed amplified in the silent room. Hermione gasped when the wizard began to move. An additional look at the floor informed her that the broken glass was from a large number of empty fire whiskey bottles. Thorfinn wasn't dead. He was drunk.

"Thorfinn?"

Bleary-eyed, he picked his head off of the pillow he was clinging to for dear life to see who dared to disturb him. His eyes narrowed when they fell on her. She felt nervous around the wizard for the first time in twenty years. Not since they faced each other at Hogwarts during the final battle had she been afraid of the man she cared about and considered a dear friend. Known for his violent outbursts in battle, it wasn't a stretch to assume he was the one responsible for the destruction of his own home. He returned his head to the pillow and hugged it tighter.

"Still smells like her." His voice cracked. "That'll be gone soon too."

She didn't know the first thing to say in response. Somehow he managed to muster up enough strength to sit up with his back braced against the bed. A bottle that hadn't been broken yet was close enough he could reach it. As she watched him take deep gulps straight from the bottle, she couldn't remain silent any longer. Was he trying to kill himself?

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

A cold laughter sent chills up her spine. She didn't like this broken, defeated man. Just like an animal cornered and with nothing left to lose, he was dangerous.

"No, not nearly enough. I've been thinking about drowning myself in it."

"Where's Alice? Please tell me she hasn't seen you like this."

He glowered at his unwanted guest; his face marked with rage. She stepped backwards once before she reminded herself that Thorfinn had always been more bark than bite. At least since she joined the Death Eaters. There was no reason to fear her friend of almost twenty years. Underneath all of his sorrow and anger was the man he'd always been.

"Are you questioning my fitness as a father?"

"Of course not. I know how much you love your girls. You would never hurt them."

Some of his fury slipped off his face at her reassurance. His broad shoulders slumped and his voice grew softer.

"Alice is at her grandfather's. The old fool did question my ability as a father. Said my girls deserved better than me. Couldn't even protect my Hannah."

Despite still being half-full, the wizard flung the bottle of fire whiskey across the room with all his might. It crashed against the wall, bits of glass and droplets of liquor exploding all over the space. It was no wonder there was so much glass on the floor if that's what he'd been doing for days.

"All I ever wanted was to keep her safe and shielded from all of the disgusting shite in our world. From the moment I saw her cowering half-naked and bruised from what that bastard did to her, I just wanted to keep her safe."

Tears rolled down his cheeks. He turned to look Hermione in the eyes.

"I wanted to rip him apart with my bare hands, but she begged me not to. Said she didn't want me to fall down to his level. She was too good for our world."

Hermione couldn't do anything but agree. She was. Even when the rest of their society resorted to a more primal, animalistic state, Hannah remained above all of it. She was still kind-hearted, loyal, and trusting up until the very moment she was murdered.

"I knew I should've taken Rodolphus up on the offer he made me months ago."

"What?"

"Hannah convinced me to say 'no' and look what happened. She would still be alive if I didn't let myself get involved with the likes of you."

Never had Hermione seen the wizard so cold. He was usually friendly and ready to laugh when he wasn't in battle or dealing with their enemies. Not once had she ever seen such hatred directed at her from her friend.

"You ruined my life, Princess. I'll never forgive you."

Completely in shock, she didn't know what to say. How could she possibly respond? He rose to his feet, reminding her just how very small she was in comparison.

"You're cursed. Everyone who touches you is fucked. I don't ever want to see you again."

"Thorfinn…"

"Get out!"

She didn't wait for him to curse her or throw her out of his house with his bare hands. Rushing out of his presence, Hermione was hardly in the corridor outside his bedroom before she heard the heart-wrenching, choking sobs of a broken man. If she learned in the coming days that he succeeded in drowning himself in fire whiskey, she wouldn't be surprised. Some people weren't capable of recovering from such a devastating loss. She sincerely hoped that wouldn't happen. Thorfinn had three daughters who still needed him.

Standing outside of the house, Hermione discovered how furious she really was. How many more were going to die before this was all over? How many other families would be ruined and torn apart? She Disapparated away from Hogsmeade, perfectly all right if that was the last time she ever returned to the village that had been her home for more than half her life.

For the second time that night, she didn't care what time it was or how late the hour had grown. When she reached her desired destination, she took the lift to the top floor and began to pound on the front door of Draco's flat. The bemused wizard opened up within moments.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to give you want you want in exchange for what I want."

She must've caught him dozing. He rubbed his tired eyes and tried to focus on what she was saying. She answered his question before he had a chance to ask.

"One night of you doing whatever you desire to me in exchange for a list. Not of your uncle's targets though. I want a list of everyone working for him."

Draco didn't hesitate to step back to allow her entrance.