October 21st

It had been tempting to rush off to find Antonin as soon as possible. Being alone again was starting to take its toll on her. How was she able to endure an entire year of it? But, she stopped to consider the fact that for much of the year, she hadn't been alone. She'd been at Fenrir's house or she was in the Resistance's village or she was tucked away in Augustus' house by the sea. The long stretches of time that she'd been alone hadn't really been as long as she remembered. There always seemed to be help right when she needed it too.

After her unexpected conversation with Rabastan, Hermione spent the rest of the day in her room upstairs scribbling her thoughts on the Wizengamot and her theories about the Sacred Twenty-Eight families. She wished that she had access to the Ministry library for her research, but there was absolutely nothing that would ever get her to willingly cross the threshold of that building again. If she was ever dragged back there, it would mean she was in a great deal of trouble, possibly even on her way to Level Eleven as a guest. No, she would have to content herself with the knowledge she remembered. Based on the list she had, many of the families were already involved: Abbott, Black, Bulstrode, Carrow, Fawley, Flint, Greengrass, Lestrange, Malfoy, Nott, Parkinson, Rosier, Selwyn, Shafiq, Travers, and Yaxley. Ron Weasley was also included on the list even though he wasn't really a part of the plan. At least so he claimed.

She couldn't ignore the nagging thought that maybe there was another Weasley involved that was loyal to Rodolphus, one that kept his secret as he lived in the middle of the Resistance village as a seemingly ordinary house pet. Ginny might have claimed that Aberforth also knew his true identity, but she never asked Dumbledore nor did she ever see the two of them together. Had that been a lie? She wanted to find where the wizard was in hiding to ask. If it was uncovered that Ginny was lying, she'd know who the true spy in the Resistance was. And if she managed to rid herself of a complication in her personal life, so be it. She wouldn't lose too much sleep over her loss.

When it was dark and midnight was only an hour away, Hermione made certain that her beaded bag was in her pocket. While she didn't anticipate not being able to return to the room she'd been using at the Three Broomsticks, she wanted to be prepared for any eventuality. Besides, she felt almost naked without the bag in her pocket. Possibly for the rest of her life, no matter how long or short that would turn out to be, she would have to have the bag in her pocket to feel secure. Hadn't it already saved her life and the lives of those she cared about countless times? It would be foolish to go anywhere without it.

No one stopped her when she descended the stairs to enter the main room of the tavern. Only Thorfinn glared at her over the top of his full glass. Evidently, he was just blustering the night he swore he would never return as long as she was there. It physically hurt her chest to look at the man in such pain. She wished she could do something, anything to take it away. It was her fault that Hannah was dead. She should've insisted that they stay inside her home that day, should've made her stay. In a life filled with regrets, the murder of Hannah would forever be one of her worst. The massive wizard watched her movements until she was outside. Gone was the jovial man who used to tease her and who laughed at the drop of a hat. Maybe he would never come out of his grief. His love for his wife had been so strong that Hermione wouldn't be surprised if he simply chose not to keep living and died in his sleep one night.

Outside of the bustling tavern, she tried to push away her thoughts about the ruination of the Rowles. It was too hard to think about them and keep going. Removing Antonin's watch from her pocket, she cast the spell Draco taught her on it. Almost instantly it glowed blue. Jewelry clearly was the best to be used for the tracking spell. She focused on the watch and Disapparated. Arriving just outside another holiday cottage that she didn't recognize, she heard the doorknob rattle. Only just able to crouch behind a large hedge, she watched the door.

Afraid that she was about to witness her husband say goodnight to another woman, she willed herself to calm down. It would do none of them any good if she burst out of the hedge to curse them both. Besides, she didn't exactly have a leg to stand on. Hadn't she been living with a man who wasn't her husband up until a few days ago? A former lover at that? Other marriages weren't that complicated, were they? She hoped not.

To her great surprise, it wasn't a woman that exited the cottage at all. Aberforth Dumbledore stepped outside with all of the confidence of one who didn't believe himself to be in any danger. Her husband was only a step behind him. Neither man seemed angry or combative with the other. Though she was just a short distance away, they lowered their voices as they spoke so she couldn't hear. When they shook hands like old friends, she felt her jaw drop. Just who the bloody hell was on Antonin's side? It seemed like the very last people she'd ever suspect were almost like old friends. She knew he had been meeting with mysterious people when they were still living in the same house. She just didn't know how bizarre it would be to discover who they actually were.

The moment Aberforth disappeared from the area, Hermione stepped out from behind the hedge so that Antonin could see her. Unsure who she was at first, he pointed his wand in her direction, ready to curse if necessary. It only took him a second to realize it was his wife emerging from the shadows. Relaxing at once, he gestured to the open door, inviting her inside.

She didn't have the first clue where they were, but that didn't matter. All she wanted to know was why Antonin was meeting with Aberforth alone late at night. And they were so friendly! How long had they been that way? She couldn't imagine that the two men would've been able to put aside their differences for a civil conversation just a short time earlier. Especially not after what Hermione was responsible for doing to him.

Antonin could tell that it was killing her inside just a little bit to not have the answers she wanted. Determined that she wouldn't bombard him with a number of questions at the very beginning of their meeting, she waited for him to tell him what he wished. It amused him to say nothing as he opened a bottle of fire whiskey to pour them both a glass. Much nicer than the tiny hovel he'd stayed in previously, there was an actual sofa in front of a fireplace. She took a seat, grateful for the heat that the fire provided. No matter the time of year, her husband liked to have a fire going. As October was beginning to come to a close, it was quickly becoming a necessity. He sat next to her, only the smallest of spaces between their bodies.

"I read about Rita Skeeter in the newspaper. Gus said that you might have something to do with what happened to her?"

There was laughter in his voice. She loved the moments they could relax together. Shrugging her shoulders, she didn't deny or confirm, but she did smile. He laughed, once again a contagious sound that made her laugh. She could think of nothing but all of the nights they laid in bed together talking and laughing. Even in the midst of the worst years of their marriage, they had no shortage of laughter. She felt a sharp pain in her chest even as she smiled. Was it possible that she actually missed her husband?

"He said that it was quite brutal and messy. Had to scrape her off a bookshelf?"

She could only imagine how unpleasant the cleaning process had to have been. It made her smile. Antonin clinked his glass with hers.

"You always said you'd make her pay."

"Yes, but I wish I'd found a cleaner way to dispose of her. I still have some of her stuck to the bottom of my shoe."

Both of them laughed. It was nice. She'd missed being alone with him like that. Part of her feared she would never have another opportunity.

"You're tracking me with my watch, aren't you?"

He had always been too smart for his own good. She didn't want to talk about the spell she used to track him because of the promise she made to Draco. Even thinking about the oath she took was upsetting. She'd somehow managed not to think about the tracker in the days since she left his flat. Or at least, not to obsessively think about him. She didn't want that to change. Instead of giving him a direct answer, Hermione just smiled.

"I'm very attached to that watch. When do I get it back?"

"When I no longer need to track you to find you."

Her words were full of meaning that neither of them could ignore. She wasn't very subtle in letting him know that it wouldn't be until they were both living together again that he would get his watch back. As soon as she made her statement, part of her wished she'd remained silent. Was she even ready to consider the possibility of returning to live with him again? There was still so much that was unresolved between them, so much they needed to figure out. Was there even a hope that they could have anything resembling a normal marriage again? Did she even want to try? Deciding that that night was not the time to make those choices, Hermione changed the subject.

"Rodolphus is planning on rebuilding the Wizengamot. All Purebloods, of course. He's been trying to get representatives from all of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families."

Seeing that he was intrigued, she told him everything that she knew. Explained he wanted the Wizengamot because he wanted the regime to last longer than a single person's lifetime. Told him the ones she knew who had already agreed to be members. Everything except for the list that she was given. Antonin listened patiently, taking in all of the information calmly.

"How did you find all of this out? How did you know it's the truth?"

She knew she couldn't keep the secret from him about her source. Lying was exhausting. If she could get around it, she would. Maybe he'd be angry with her, but at least she wouldn't have to keep telling falsehoods.

"I went to Rodolphus and asked him directly."

"You what? How could you…? Hermione, that was…"

He was furious and doing his damnedest to hide it. His efforts threatened to make her laugh. She knew better than anyone alive how dangerous and reckless she'd been seeking out the wizard that seemed intent to do her harm was. No one needed to tell her.

"No one else would tell me, so I went straight to the source. For whatever reason, he doesn't seem to want to hurt me. At least not yet."

Antonin's hand slid through her curls. In the past when he wanted to reassure himself that she was safe and whole, he couldn't keep his hands off of her. He dropped his empty glass on the carpeted floor to free up his other hand. Touching her face and her hair helped to calm him down better than anything else.

"I'm so glad you're all right."

His lips pressed against hers. She didn't even think about pushing him away. Maybe it was wrong, but she didn't care. For the moment, she wanted to cling to something that was familiar and made her feel safe... even if the feeling was fleeting.