October 3rd

Hermione didn't rush to leave Draco's flat even when the night she promised him in exchange for the list was technically over. When he teased her about staying longer, she told him that the night was for the list, but the morning was all for her. He had no complaints and made it worth her while to laze around his flat until well into mid-afternoon.

Returning to the cottage wasn't what she wished to do. As she had limited options, she couldn't be picky. There wasn't even a home for her to sneak back into in Hogsmeade. Even if she could guarantee that Rodolphus or one of the idiots that he employed in his plan for world domination, or whatever ridiculous idea he had planned, wouldn't find her, there was nothing but a massive hole where her home once stood. Augustus' house would be watched and there was always the chance that Alecto would find her there again. Besides, she didn't want to give her ex-lover any sort of hope that there could be a future together. Even when she lived in his house with her husband and son, she caught him looking in her direction when he thought she couldn't see him with a wistful expression in his eyes. He would probably do whatever she asked him to do for the rest of his life.

So it was back to the hated cottage. Truthfully, if it hadn't belonged to the brother-in-law that she loathed, she might not have minded the location. It was a charming piece of real estate. Very secluded, it was one of those places that few would ever be able to find unless they knew it was already there. After living for twenty years on center stage where every single one of her movements and decisions were examined under a microscope, she didn't mind the seclusion. In fact, given her choice, she would gladly live in the middle of nowhere for the rest of her life.

It was uncomfortable being in the cottage without Antonin. There had been a shifting in the way that it felt to be there that made her uneasy. Maybe it was mostly related to the fact that she was missing her husband. Or, rather she was missing what she thought she might have found with him. But because her life was never simple and frequently it was full of heartache, it was not meant to be. She would have to stay in the cottage until she came up with a better idea. Staying with Draco might have been an enjoyable way to spend a night, but it wasn't a long-term solution. They were on opposite sides of the conflict. Even with the peace they'd decided upon while they were inside his flat, neither one of them could guarantee that would continue indefinitely.

Waiting for Draco to get the list she wanted was difficult. Hermione's patience had grown very thin. When they finally decided they could linger in bed no longer, they separated at the front door of his flat with a lingering kiss and promise that he would get what she asked for. She knew it would take some time. Draco would have to be careful how he approached his uncle. Rodolphus was a suspicious man after all. The first day back in the cottage she slept away thanks to the exhaustion that plagued her body after a delightful night of too little sleep.

The second day was a little more frustrating. After sleeping in as late as she wanted, Hermione grew restless. There was nowhere for her to go if she left the cottage. Considering how her previous forays into the wide world had gone, she wasn't looking forward to walking out the front door. Much like the days when she was back on the run, she didn't know what to do with herself. It was an existence that she knew she couldn't keep living.

Somehow she managed to fall asleep on the sofa in the main room of the cottage just from sheer boredom. That and she knew that she might have pushed her body too hard in Draco's flat. She was still recovering from her almost strangulation and the attack in Hogsmeade. Ignoring the fact that she promised herself she wouldn't take another, Hermione downed an entire vial of one of the potions the Healers prescribed. She could stand with a little numbness even if it wasn't nearly as effective as she wished. Night had fallen and she cursed herself for allowing her body to sleep so late. She would never get her schedule back on track if she kept at it. The potion helped to relax her enough that when she slipped underneath the hot, bubbly water in the bathtub, she didn't have any trouble dozing off again.

The sound of the bathroom door opening woke Hermione up out of the sleep she'd fallen in accidentally. Evidently the pain potion was stronger than she expected. Taking an entire vial was likely too much. Based on how cool the water in the tub had gotten, she'd been asleep for awhile. Expecting, and perhaps hoping, to see her husband enter the room, she was startled to see Aubin Dolohov enter the room instead.

She'd grown too complacent, too sure of her safety to give much thought to the very real possibility that her brother-in-law might eventually return to his own home while she was still there. Feeling exposed as the bubbles in the bathtub had long since dissipated, she covered as much of her skin as she could with her arms. Realizing what she was doing, Aubin rolled his eyes and tossed her a towel.

"There is nothing that you possess that I'm the least bit interested in seeing."

Hermione hated the horrible man. Never once had they ever been in the same room together when he didn't find it necessary to insult her in some manner. She never could understand what it was about her that he found so loathsome. Unless it was simply his suspected Malfoy blood peeking through and he had no use for Mudbloods. But, even that was a flimsy excuse for his hatred. Hadn't she just spent many pleasurable hours in the company of his possible nephew? When she was wrapped in a towel and climbing out of the water, Aubin pointed to the bruises on her neck.

"Did my big brother do that to you? Shame he clearly has no follow through."

Despite having just woken up from a very pleasant nap, she didn't have the energy to deal with her difficult brother-in-law. She never had enough energy for that odious task.

"What are you doing here, Aubin?"

"It's my house. What are you doing here?"

He was blocking the only exit out. The room felt too small with the two of them inside. What was he playing at? Aubin never did anything without an agenda. Hermione sighed, unsure what to tell him. It was Antonin's idea to use his house to hide in. She didn't want any part of it, but didn't exactly have a choice in the matter.

"I've been back about a week now. Hated to leave Italy, of course, but something told me I needed to come back, needed to check on how things were going. Even in Italy we're hearing rumors that all is not going well here."

Hermione didn't want to give the man any power over her. If he knew how uncomfortable he was making her, he would stop at nothing to increase his obnoxious actions and speech. Experience taught her that he was more malleable if she just gave him the chance to speak. She only wished that they could've had whatever discussion they apparently needed to have when she wasn't naked, wrapped in a towel.

"You know, I found it very strange when I was here several days ago that I couldn't find my house. I mean, I knew exactly where I left it, but when I Apparated here, I couldn't see it. Couldn't get near it. Wandered around the immediate area searching for it."

"You were the one following me that night."

He smiled, an expression that only served to make her more nervous. For such an attractive man on the surface, there was a darkness underneath the skin that always bothered her. Antonin and each of his brothers were handsome in various ways, no doubt due to the unlikelihood that any of them shared the same father. Where Alain was warm and friendly, Aubin was cold and his face was twisted in a constant sneer. Alexandre was quiet and unassuming, but likely one of the kindest men Hermione had ever met. His younger brother always demanded to be the center of attention and was more selfish than any three people combined. And the differences between Antonin and Aubin were quite simply too numerous to name.

"Clever girl. Glad to see your mind isn't completely gone. Yes, I followed you. Couldn't imagine why you would be anywhere near my home."

Once out of the bathtub, Hermione picked her dressing gown off of the sink where she'd laid it to rest. Her brother-in-law watched every single movement she made, no doubt assuming she was going to curse him with her wand if given the chance. Though it bothered her to have him staring at her while she covered her naked body in the dressing gown, she did it anyway. She tied the belt at her waist and dropped the towel that was still wrapped around her to the floor. When she reached into the pocket of the dressing gown, she bit back a string of uncharitable words for her carelessness. She'd left her wand in the pocket of the robes she was wearing before her bath - the robes that were lying in the middle of the bedroom floor. Had she allowed her mind to become so distracted that she let her wand out of her sight for a single second? She wasn't even safe inside the cottage despite Antonin's assurances that she would be.

"Imagine my surprise when I returned this evening and my house is back. Very strange. I imagine my brother didn't stop to consider the consequences of casting a Fidelius Charm on a home he wasn't actually the owner of. Even his large brain forgot that once the Secret Keeper is dead, the owner can find the structure just as easily as those who remained alive in possession of the secret. Anyone can really. Using a house that belongs to someone else and not getting their permission just negates the entire spell after the Secret Keeper is dead."

Having her wand in her possession would've given her the chance to blast the smug smirk off of the horrible man's face. In the chaos of her attack in Hogsmeade and then William Wood's attempt to kill her and every other horrible thing that had happened, she hadn't stopped to consider the fact that with their Secret-Keeper dead, the Fidelius Charm her husband cast on the cottage was no longer valid. Yes, it should have been a thought that she considered, but she had to remind herself that she was only human and unable to anticipate everything. Antonin was very likely even smarter than she was. Certainly he had more experience than she did and even he didn't seem to remember that their safe house would be left exposed. Of course, very few people in the world even knew it existed in the first place and her husband was operating under the assumption that his little brother wouldn't return any time soon. And she did suffer a concussion that horrible day Hannah was murdered. Maybe she was losing her mind.

"Well, just let me gather my things and I will gladly leave you alone in your horrible house."

Aubin's smile did nothing to put her at ease. He was the sort of pathetic cretin that only was happy when others around him failed. If he was pleased, she knew that something very bad was in store for her. She needed to get out of the cottage as quickly as possible. It wasn't safe to linger there any longer. Not when he was clearly up to something. She wasn't sure where she would go. Maybe Draco would let her take refuge in his flat for another night until she found something more permanent.

"Is your husband around? Should I expect my big brother to be joining us any time soon?"

He stepped away from the door to allow her to exit.

"No, he won't be coming here."

"Excellent. Just what we want to hear."

One step outside of the bathroom she looked up to meet the furious gaze of one William Wood standing in front of the door that led to the rest of the cottage and the only exit. Aubin stepped up behind her, practically breathing down her neck.

"Oh, forgive me, Hermione. I forgot to tell you that I've brought an old friend to visit."