October 27th

Remaining in Hogsmeade in one of the most iconic locations in Wizarding Britain left Hermione feeling vulnerable and very exposed. She felt almost like a prisoner where either every single move she made was under constant scrutiny or she couldn't leave the privacy of her own room. As much as she longed to leave, she really didn't have anywhere else to go. Returning to Draco's flat wasn't an option. He'd made it quite clear that he didn't appreciate her being there and rushing off in the middle of the night to see her husband. As pleasant as it had been to be in Draco's home with him at times, their situation was complicated, precarious even. Who could be sure when he would betray her next?

The very idea that Hermione would ever willingly move into the Lestrange Dower House, even temporarily, was so ludicrous she could do nothing but laugh every time she considered it. How daft did Rodolphus think she'd become? Or perhaps he was hoping isolating her from those who loved her would make her more malleable to his manipulations. Getting her away from Antonin was the first step. And perhaps, if she really was working for Rodolphus, Ginny conveniently luring her husband back into her bed was the next step. What better way to cement the destruction of their marriage than with that horrific display? While she didn't want to even consider the possibility that Draco was in on that plan, she couldn't deny that it would make sense if it was planned. Rodolphus had an agenda she didn't understand.

On the last Saturday in October, only days before Halloween, Hermione descended the stairs to the main room of the Three Broomsticks annoyed that she was there to begin with. Some of the first Hogwarts students were beginning to make their way into the establishment. Oliver was only a second year and he no longer had the benefit of an influential father to let him leave the castle so she didn't expect to have an opportunity to see her son. Just imagining what sort of favors she'd have to offer Temeritus disgusted her enough to not even consider sending an owl requesting her son be allowed to visit. Without Oliver, there was no reason to stay in the village while his schoolmates wandered around the usually sleepy village.

She caught a glimpse of Thorfinn seated at the bar sipping at a glass. While she was aware that he was simply there to keep an eye on her, it bothered her immensely that she could be so easily found in Hogsmeade. Thoughts about her conversation with Rabastan only made her desire to leave stronger. Ignoring Thorfinn, Hermione stepped outside of the popular tavern. Thinking of a place she never expected to actually want to go to again, she Disapparated from the area.

Landing at the gates to the entrance of the vast Nott Estate, Hermione wondered if she was making a mistake. Ever since she heard about Rosalind Nott from Rabastan she was worried about the young girl. For a reason that was unclear, she felt an obligation to check on the widow of one of the Death Eaters she hated the most. A profound sense of guilt weighed on Hermione's conscience where she was concerned. And to know that Rabastan was responsible for the girl who was entirely alone in the world being pregnant made it all that much worse.

There was no resistance at the gates preventing Hermione from crossing over into the grounds. Was the house well-warded? She was vulnerable if it wasn't. Leave it to Rabastan not to consider the safety of anyone but himself. For one that was so passionate about protecting his children, it was easy to assume that would extend to the woman purported to be carrying his bastard. Of course there was a big difference in children that carried his name and those that had no right to claim it in Rabastan's mind. He was a remnant of an old-fashioned world that Hermione desperately hoped would die out soon. Any further hope that at least the mistress of the manor was protected by the Nott family's house-elves was further dashed when the large front door was opened by Rosalind herself. Hermione wasn't sure what to think.

"Madam Dolohov?"

"Just call me, Hermione, please."

She hoped that her tone was soft enough to put the girl at ease, but she was afraid her anger was showing through. Why was she alone? Rabastan arrested and likely killed her parents, impregnated her, and left her to fend for herself in their increasingly dangerous and chaotic world. It was unconscionable. Did he not care that she could easily be harmed by someone with less pure intentions? She almost laughed out loud when she considered what she was asking. Of course Rabastan didn't care.

"Rosalind, are you alone?"

The young witch was still very surprised to see her guest standing outside her front door. Was she naïve enough to believe everything the Daily Prophet said? If so, Hermione knew she would have to tread carefully. She offered her most encouraging smile, one she'd used many times in recent months while talking to her son. It appeared to do the trick. Some of the tension in Rosalind's shoulders subsided.

"Yes. Would you like to come in?"

Offering her another smile, Hermione nodded and stepped inside the large, gloomy mansion. It had never been a truly cheery place, but it was beginning to show serious signs of neglect. No self-respecting house-elf would allow their family's home to fall into such a sad state, even further proving her theory that the staff deserted the young, pregnant witch. Already her robes were failing to hide the tell-tale sign of the minuscule bump of her belly. Easily missed if one didn't know her circumstances, it was all too obvious to one who did.

"If you would please take a seat in here, I'll go make us some tea."

Before Rosalind could abandon her guest in the dusty, formal lounge used by important guests, Hermione shook her head and insisted she would rather talk with her in the kitchen. Her hostess seemed relieved as she led her down the corridor to a room guests were never supposed to see. Once inside the massive kitchen, it immediately became evident that it was the room where the young witch spent most of her time. It was the only room Hermione saw with a fire lit. The rest of the rooms in the drafty house were cold and neglected. Old manors like that required a small army of house-elves to maintain. Though she knew it would likely be awkward, Hermione had to ask.

"Where are all of your house-elves? Shouldn't one of them be here to make the tea?"

Hermione's feelings about house-elves had never really changed. She still believed it was wrong to keep any creature in slavery, even if they claimed they were happier serving masters than being free, but it was a campaign she couldn't continue as a Death Eater. Maybe if she'd been able to live another life she might've been able to work to free the house-elves. In the Ministry of Magic, perhaps. The question embarrassed Rosalind.

"Millicent ordered them to come with her when she moved out of the manor with her girls. Said they were only supposed to serve the true members of the Nott family."

Tears gathered on the young woman's eyelashes. Millicent could prove to be a problem in the future. House-elves were bound to a family with ancient magic most didn't understand. Because her marriage wasn't consummated and the baby she carried was a Lestrange and not a Nott, the family's house-elves had no loyalty to Rosalind. Even if one of them wished to stay, they were compelled by the archaic bonds of their slavery to follow Millicent's orders. She and her three daughters were the only true members of the family left. It was a complication Rabastan could not have seen when he prevented the marriage between Theodore and Rosalind from being sealed in the marital bed. One day his mistake would come back to bite him on the arse. Of course while Hermione was grateful that the terrified girl didn't have to suffer the indignity of Theodore's defilement, she knew that she had some hurdles left to jump over.

She didn't ask any further questions until they were both seated at the kitchen table where generations of Nott house-elves once prepared meals. It was easy to see why the girl chose the kitchen. Warm and inviting, it was nothing like the dark and dreary rooms in other parts of the mansion. If she discovered that she slept on the rug in front of the massive fireplace each night to prevent having to go into one of the cavernous bedrooms upstairs, Hermione wouldn't have been surprised. Both women sipped at their tea, unsure how to progress. Finally, Hermione knew that she would have to breach some delicate topics. Sometimes it was best to just be blunt.

"I know that you're pregnant, Rosalind, and I know that the father is Rabastan."

Some of the tears on her eyelashes slid silently down her reddened cheeks. Unable to look Hermione in the eye, Rosalind stared into her teacup.

"This might be uncomfortable, but Rosalind, love, did he force you?"

If the answer was anything other than an emphatic 'no', Hermione was prepared to track down the cretin and slice his bollocks from his body and cram them down his throat before she ended his miserable existence. She would not tolerate any sort of nonconsensual acts. Not after what she learned from Hannah before she died. Rosalind shook her head before bursting into loud cries.

"I feel like such a fool! He was so kind to me and I was so lonely and scared. He told me what he did to Theodore on our wedding night and I was so grateful. When he told me that he thought Theodore was a blind idiot for not thinking I was beautiful, I just… I…"

Hermione reached across the table to gently pat the girl's hand before she burst into another round of hysterics. The simple touch calmed Rosalind down immediately.

"You were seduced by a very persuasive man. It happens. You should expect many more men to try the same as you grow older, especially considering how rich you are now."

The young witch bowed her head and tried to hide her tears. Hermione felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy for the girl. She was all alone and being used as a pawn in an intricate game going on since long before she was born. Perhaps the reason why Hermione felt such a desire to protect the girl was simply because she could see herself in her. Hadn't that been her past? She was scared and all alone and thrown into the deep end of the Dark Lord's world. At Rosalind's exact age, Hermione was all alone in the world, lying on the floor of a dark broom cupboard. She couldn't imagine how much worse her life would've been if she had to endure all of that and be pregnant. While she had a protector, two actually, Rosalind had no one. She felt a real responsibility to the widow of one of her many, many victims.

"Do you and Rabastan still..?"

Her cheeks flamed an even brighter red.

"I know I shouldn't, but I'm all alone here and when he visits it's nice to not feel so alone."

"It's not shameful to enjoy sex, Rosalind. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise, but you need to be careful. Rabastan is a dangerous, selfish man who isn't afraid to use people to get what he wants."

Rosalind's hand touched her belly.

"It wasn't supposed to happen. It was an accident. I thought he would make me get rid of it but he told me this was the only way I would always be safe, that without a baby I could be thrown out of here. I don't have anywhere else to go. My parents…"

She couldn't speak another word through her tears. It was clear that she was still so much a child in many ways. Hermione felt an unfamiliar urge to protect her relative innocence even though she didn't know what to do.

"I'm staying at the Three Broomsticks. If you need anything, you can find me."

Hermione's visit ended just a few short minutes later.