October 30th

Hermione didn't realize it was already past midnight when she left Aubin's cottage. Taking only a few moments outside of the hateful structure to catch her breath, she thought about the inn that she'd made her temporary home. As much as she was beginning to loathe and despise the place, it offered her a warm bed and a roof over her head. Until she was given reason to believe that Rodolphus wasn't serious in his demands that she be kept from harm, she saw no reason to leave. Thanks to his nephew's prodigious tracking skills, if he wanted to find her, he would. No matter where she tried to run, she'd be found.

After arriving outside the front door of the Three Broomsticks, she didn't hesitate to enter the lively establishment. One step in and she was surprised to see the massive form of Thorfinn Rowle still seated at what had become his usual table looking to be in no hurry to move. Antonin had only just left her less than a minute or two earlier. He'd been contacted by the enchanted mirror. Why did Thorfinn seem as if he didn't have a care in the world?

Were there more than just two mirrors? The first time she witnessed Antonin use his, he wasn't bothered by Hermione learning that he was in contact with his best friend. It bothered her when she stopped to consider the moment they were still laying on the sofa in the cottage. Before whomever was contacting Antonin could even speak, he'd closed the mirror. That told her that whoever was trying to contact him was someone Hermione knew and a voice she would recognize. Clearly, her husband didn't want her to know what was happening. Just one more example in an ocean of them why she needed to move on. As safe as she felt in his arms, it was worthless if he couldn't trust her.

Maybe she was just being paranoid. Recent events certainly gave her the opportunity to look into everything more closely than perhaps she should. Wanting nothing more than just a hot shower and her bed, she turned towards the staircase. Directly in her line of sight, in front of the massive fireplace and in the pathway towards the stairs, was Rodolphus. He sat at a small table sipping at a glass of fire whiskey watching the door. Of course he was waiting for her to return. It had been a few days since their last interaction after all. There was no possible way to get to her room without passing by him first.

And he knew it. No doubt it was exactly why he'd placed himself at that particular table to begin with. When Rodolphus saw her, he smiled and waved her over. Though tempted to turn around and head back outside into the night air, Hermione made her way towards the horrible man. He would only follow her if she tried to leave. His previous visit proved that he knew how to get into her room even when she used protective wards. At least if she went to him he might get whatever it was he wished to speak to her over with quickly and she could retire for the night. One could hope, at least.

Rodolphus stood to his feet to wait for her to join him at his table. Ever the gentleman, it was easy to forget what an absolute nightmare he could be when he put his best manners on. Not that she would ever be fooled again. She'd gone down that road before and it yielded nothing but heartache. If she ever had the opportunity to get a time turner in her possession again, she wouldn't hesitate to go back in time to be certain she never fell for the man's pretty words. He was an expert in persuasion and seduction. It was embarrassing to remember that she hadn't even needed his damned potions in the beginning. She went to him willingly and freely.

"You've been out late."

"Are you my father, Rodolphus?"

He laughed as he held out her chair. There was no chance that he was going to let her pass him by without them having the conversation he'd been waiting for. Knowing that she wasn't going to win that fight, Hermione took a seat with a heavy sigh. If she had to be there, at least she wouldn't have a good attitude about it. He didn't deserve her to be at her most pleasant and charming. Not when she was exhausted and weary down to her very bones of the situation she found herself in. Would there ever be a moment in her life when she could just take a deep breath without fear or worry or concern that she was in danger? Probably not.

"I certainly hope I'm not your father. What we've done in the past would be so much naughtier if I was."

She wasn't in the mood to even crack a smile at his attempt at a joke. Was he the reason why Thorfinn contacted Antonin with his mirror? If so, was Antonin nearby watching everything unfold? He still had Harry's invisibility cloak. Maybe he was standing right next to their table listening to every single word that they said. It was a sobering thought. She would have to measure her words carefully.

But, the more she thought about it, the less her theory made sense. If it was Thorfinn in the mirror, why would he keep the fact that Rodolphus was waiting downstairs in the building that she slept each night away from her? Wouldn't he have warned her that she could be in potential danger? There was a time in her past when she lived for those sorts of mysteries. All she wanted in that moment was to walk away. Politics and intrigue no longer brought her the least bit of joy.

"Why are you here, Rodolphus? I'm tired."

"I'm simply here enjoying a drink at my favorite tavern. Why must you assume I have any sort of agenda?"

"Because you always do. Nothing you do is done without a reason."

His smile was unnerving. Even without giving her confirmation, she knew that she'd spoken true. He refilled his empty glass with the bottle in the middle of the table. Another empty glass proved that he had indeed been waiting for her. She didn't accept it when it was offered. No matter his reasons for seeking her out, she knew that she had to keep her wits about her to survive. Besides, if she accepted a drink, he might get the wrong idea. She didn't want to give him the impression that she actually enjoyed being around him. Not anymore. Those days were well and truly gone, tucked away in the past she wished she could forget.

"Have you considered more about my offer?"

"What offer?"

It was too late for her to go along with his games. Maybe she would've humored him in the past, but not that night. Frustrated with the man who seemed oblivious to her anger and discomfort, Hermione had to fight back the urge to curse him right in his face. What good would that do? She didn't want to make him an open enemy just yet. His decades more of experience coupled with his ruthlessness would make him a formidable enemy that she wasn't certain she could defeat on a traditional playing field. But she also couldn't let him continue to make such ridiculous offers considering their shared past.

"Why would I want to live with the man that manipulated my mind for years?"

"Hermione…"

"No! You're not going to lie to me again and say that you didn't do anything to my mind. I'm sick of your lies."

Her voice carried further across the room than she intended. Some of the other patrons were turning their head in her direction, curious by the tone she used or the content of their conversation. She wasn't sure which. Even Thorfinn was watching them out of the corner of his eye. Of course, he likely had been doing that from the moment she entered the room. He wasn't as sneaky as he thought he was. If she really wanted to be honest, she couldn't afford to let anyone else eavesdrop. Hermione didn't speak another word until the immediate area they were seated in was covered with effective silencing spells.

"I remember you telling me on my son's eleventh birthday that I was going to forget everything about our relationship, but as soon as you were ready for me, you would unlock them. What the bloody hell does that mean?"

Rodolphus reached across the table to cup her cheek in his palm. Startled by the sudden touch and invasion of her space, she froze. Why did he have to put his hands anywhere near her? It was awkward and uncomfortable. Knowing that Thorfinn was watching their interaction unfold made it so much worse. Would he mistake their moment for intimacy? Would he report back to his best mate, her husband?

"I want you by my side, love. Don't you remember how we used to lay awake at night and talk about all of our plans for the world when the Dark Lord was finally dead?"

She didn't. Since she was removed from her broom cupboard and forced to come face to face with the monster who would become her master for twenty years, she'd been afraid to speak so openly. Talking about the Dark Lord dying seemed to her to teeter on the edge of outright blasphemy. Hadn't he proven himself incapable of dying? While she felt differently months after she learned that he could die, the visceral reaction to having someone mention his mortality and fallibility was still present. It was something she didn't like to consider. Over the years she'd turned in countless enemies of the regime for saying much less. No matter what Rodolphus claimed, she just couldn't imagine that she would've ever willingly had a conversation with him, in bed or not, where they talked about the world after their master's fall.

"We had so many dreams of how we could make this world ours. I want you back at my side."

It was all too much. Hermione couldn't bear another moment in the wizard's presence. He wasn't speaking sense. Had he finally cracked? Deciding that she'd had more than enough of her fill, she removed the spells that had them seated in a secure bubble and stood up from her chair. Rodolphus rose too. He reached for her hand with his.

"Please come home with me, love. I can't bear the thought of you spending another night in this wretched place."

"No. I like it…"

Her response was cut off in the middle by the press of his lips against hers. Boldly in front of everyone in the Three Broomsticks, including her husband's personal spy, Rodolphus put all of his emotion into the act. At first she was too startled by the abruptness to push him away. The wizard used her hesitancy to his advantage at first. When she had her wits about her again, Hermione placed both of her hands on his chest and pushed him forcefully away.

She looked over her shoulder just in time to see Thorfinn leave though the front door. There was simply no way that he didn't see Rodolphus kiss her in front of everyone, and considering she didn't push him away, it must have looked like she was actually enjoying what was happening. Antonin was sure to get an earful about his traitorous wife's activities in public. With one last final glare at Rodolphus, Hermione stormed up the stairs to the privacy of her room. She was grateful that he didn't feel the need to disturb her again.