October 7th

Hermione woke up the next morning before Draco did. Whatever he had been doing outside in the big, scary world was taking its toll on his body. He didn't get nearly enough sleep. Part of her wondered if there would ever come a time when anyone involved in the whole mess of who would take over the ruling of their country would be able to spend an entire night in bed asleep. They were all wearing themselves thin. After he took his time in the bathtub distracting her from the fact that he wouldn't answer her question about Rodolphus' grand plans, he had to make his excuses to leave. He didn't return home until she was already in bed again.

The hours she spent alone convinced her that she couldn't just stay there hidden in Draco's flat while Aubin ran loose around the country. For all she was aware, he'd already found his brother. She had complete faith that Antonin would be able to take his younger brother in a duel, if necessary. Blood was important to her husband. Even though he'd never been close to Aubin and didn't even like him much at all, he felt a responsibility to him because they were family. He deserved to know what happened.

Sneaking out of the flat wasn't as difficult as she thought it would be. Draco's exhaustion kept him asleep while she moved around the bedroom dressing as quietly as she could. If he could sense she left the flat, she wasn't sure. It didn't matter. She hoped that she wouldn't be gone long. Though it wasn't the best idea she'd ever had, she felt solace and comfort staying in his flat. For the time being, she would return. Until a better offer presented itself, she knew that she would be safe there.

Outside of his building she looked around the immediate area to make certain no Muggles were near enough to watch her disappear. When she was convinced she was alone, she focused on that horrible day when she witnessed her husband alone with his mistress. She felt her blood pressure begin to rise with her anger. They made her feel like a fool that day. Of course, when the logical part of her brain took over, she reminded herself that she had no right to be upset by what she witnessed. It wasn't as if she was innocent or faithful herself. Hadn't she allowed Draco to take her mind off of serious matters just the previous day when they were in the bathtub together? That certainly hadn't been innocent.

She forced herself to calm down when her feet landed in the immediate area of Ginny's house. If she was walking into a trap, she had to be at her most alert. William Wood was the witch's best friend. There was every reason to believe that she might walk up to the house just to find the cretin inside. She had to be ready. Holding her wand firmly in her hand, she used the other to knock on the front door. Ginny opened just a few short moments later, also holding her own wand in her hand, prepared to duel.

"Is my husband here?"

Hermione didn't even wait for Ginny to answer or to invite her in before she pushed past the witch to step inside the main room of her tiny house. Neatly kept, the simple room reminded her so much of the Burrow that for a few moments she forgot to breathe. Nostalgia was a powerful emotion, one that tended to sneak up when one wasn't even aware. Turning around to face her startled hostess, Hermione refused to allow the woman to intimidate her.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Hermione. Why would your husband being anywhere near my home?"

"Because you've been fucking him. Don't even try to deny it. I saw it with my own eyes."

Ginny started to sputter out a response, but Hermione held up her hand to stop her. They were wasting time. If Antonin wasn't there, she needed to find out where he was. She was on a time-sensitive mission. Realizing that she couldn't deny the truth, Ginny sighed.

"No. Antonin isn't here. I haven't seen him in days. Not since you were in St. Mungos."

"Where your best mate tried to kill me."

"Pity he failed."

Anger swept through Hermione like a brush fire. Was that truly what the woman thought of her? Clearly their friendship once upon a time no longer meant anything. She was about to let fly a long burst of expletives when the sound of the bedroom door opening caused her to jump. Spinning on her heel, she had her wand ready to curse anyone who meant her harm.

"Mummy, I'm not sleepy anymore."

Ginny rushed across the small space to shield her daughter from any potential danger. Hermione felt her mouth open in shock at what she was seeing. At just around four years old, the little girl didn't look much like her mother at all. With dark brown hair and dimples, she resembled Oliver when he was the same age. Even though Ginny tried to shield her daughter from Hermione's view and was quick to order her back into the bedroom, the damage had been done.

"Does he know about her?"

"Not yet. Haven't quite figured out how to tell him."

A churning began in Hermione's stomach. She feared that she was going to be sick. Right there was the daughter that her husband had always wanted, the piece of his family he always believed was missing. All it would take was just one four word sentence and any future they'd hoped to have together would be gone forever. You have a daughter. Would he give up any hope that he could reconcile his family if he was given the opportunity to start over with a new one? Of course she wasn't sure if he was even still interested in his current wife. Though he claimed that night at Hogwarts that he didn't want her in his life anymore, his actions when she was in the hospital indicated that he was still in love with her. One sentence and that might all be gone.

"Are you going to tell him?"

Hermione considered her answer before she gave it. The right thing to do would be to be completely honest with her husband, but that certainly hadn't been what either one of them had done in over thirteen years of marriage. They'd been able to perfect keeping secrets to an art form. But, this was different than anything they'd ever come up against before. If Antonin discovered she knew that he had a daughter and she didn't tell him, he probably would never forgive her. There were just some acts of deception that couldn't be excused.

"No, I won't tell, but you should. Antonin will have a hard enough time forgiving you for not telling him already. If he finds out from someone other than you… it won't be pretty."

Ginny sighed, her shoulders heavy with worry. She knew without being told that that was the truth. If whatever she had with Antonin was more than just meaningless sex, she would've already learned that he desired more children, a larger family. Hermione watched her as she considered her options. Rarely had she ever seen the younger witch so nervous and unsure of herself. Once she passed through the awkwardness of her third year, Ginny had been nothing but confident.

She remembered the day in London that she stopped Hermione and her son on the pavement. It unnerved her to watch her stare at Oliver. In the back of her mind she worried about kidnapping or other potential harm coming to her son. She just couldn't understand what Ginny would find so fascinating about her son. All of the pieces began to click into place.

"You're in love with my husband, aren't you?"

To her credit, Ginny didn't even try to deny what was so obvious. Hermione almost laughed. How did everything in their world become so topsy-turvy? Would it ever be normal again or was this the new normal? Never knowing what to expect? It seemed so strange to realize that the girl she'd once been friends with was actually in love with Antonin. If she was told even just a few years earlier that that was ever a possibility, she would've laughed in the face of whomever suggested it. Even seeing the proof on Ginny's face was still hard to fathom. Considering it further, Hermione found that she couldn't keep a cold laughter from escaping her mouth.

"He's about as different from Harry as it's possible to be."

Ginny's brown eyes glared into Hermione's. When she spoke, her tone was every bit as hostile as she'd ever heard it before. She was reminded of the snarky, sarcastic way Ginny snapped at her in Hogwarts when Hermione tried to speak about Quidditch. She couldn't remember the details of the discussion, too many years had come and gone since it happened, but she did remember how hateful the younger witch's voice had been.

"I'm well aware of that, Hermione. Am I supposed to remain in love with a dead man for the rest of my life? I was sixteen." She sighed, some of the heat in her tone dissipated. "Besides, it's not like it even matters. He doesn't feel the same way about me. He's made that perfectly clear to me repeatedly. Still loves you more than any intelligent man should."

Ginny's bitterness was impossible to miss. Some of the tension and fear that Hermione felt knowing that the witch shared a daughter with her husband began to lessen. He still loved her. That meant something, didn't it? She pushed away those thoughts. They could be considered at a later date when she wasn't being glared at by the hateful bitch she hated. Besides, there were pieces to this puzzle that still didn't quite fit together. Wising to move past any reminders of Harry, even though she was the one who brought him up in the first place, Hermione wanted to understand the details. She'd been lied to.

"You told me that William Wood was the father of your daughter."

"No, I said that Will and I had a daughter together. I never said he was the father."

Hermione couldn't stop the annoyed roll of her eyes. Frustrated and becoming more like the formidable witch she remembered, Ginny explained that William was the only other person who knew the truth. For whatever reason, he'd agreed to help her lie to everyone else about where her daughter came from. Bearing the child of a Death Eater, especially one as high-ranking as Antonin, was an unforgivable crime amongst the Resistance. If it was discovered, she would be ostracized and never trusted again.

"There are just a couple of problems I can see with your plan, Ginny. First, Wood's gay and secondly, your daughter looks exactly like my son did at that age. And my son looks exactly like his father. How do two redheads have a child with her coloring?"

Ginny shrugged her shoulders.

"We told everyone that it was a drunken night and Will was curious. Seemed like the only chance either one of us would have to be a parent. And I told my brothers that red hair would make her a target. They think I use a glamour on her."

It was a lie that most would be able to see right through if they were interested. No doubt the Weasleys, at least those that were still in contact with her, chose to believe whatever she told them simply because the truth would make all of their lives more complicated.

"What's her name?"

"Maisie. I wanted to name her after my mum, but Percy already named his daughter Molly. Will said we should give her a proper Scottish name if we wanted to try to convince everyone he was her father."

She felt her eyes start to fill with tears, a weakness she never wanted Ginny to see. Antonin would fall in love with his daughter within seconds of seeing her. She was absolutely beautiful and she was everything he ever wanted.

"I promise I won't tell Antonin about her, but I meant what I said, Ginny. If you don't, he'll never forgive you."

"Thank you, Hermione."

"Just promise me that you'll keep a stronger leash on Wood. If I see him again, he's dead."

Escape from the too-small house couldn't come swiftly enough for Hermione. No longer as concerned about finding Antonin as she had been earlier in the morning, she rushed outside to Apparate back to Draco's flat.