November 2nd

Maybe it wasn't the decision that she would've made in the past when she was faced with the possibility of finding and defeating one of her enemies, but Hermione knew that she was making the right decision when she ripped the plush dragon out of Ginny's hand. What was the point in her continuing to fight and live if the world was so bleak and violent that she would willingly sacrifice an innocent child for her own revenge? She wasn't the same person she used to be. Whether she was glad of that fact or not remained to be seen.

The dragon might have been made of fabric, but because it was evidently so dearly loved by its owner, there was no difficulty using the tracking spell on it. Once it glowed blue, Hermione Disapparated away from the house, leaving Ginny alone with Rodolphus and the still stunned Wood. She arrived at a darkened street corner. With the midnight hour come and gone, most of the activity in whatever town she was in was non-existent. It was the sort of place where the residents were in bed at decent hours. She was worried that she'd made a mistake with the spell until she heard the distinct sound of a child sniffling.

Maisie was alone, just as Hermione assumed she would be. If Aubin was stupid enough to cross her path again, she would strangle him with her bare hands. She was just a child! How could anyone with any hint of humanity do something so deplorable? What if Hermione wasn't the first person to find the little girl? There were a number of monsters, Muggle and magical alike, who would bring harm to her if she was found.

Hermione followed the sound of soft crying. It bothered her that the girl was being so quiet. How terrified was she? Was it common for her to have to be quiet? Part of her wanted to know what sort of existence the child had with Ginny, a fearsome Resistance leader and likely spy, as a mother, but she was afraid she would grow quite angry if she did discover it. Somewhere deep down inside of her, buried far enough down that she wasn't even sure that it still existed, was compassion.

"Maisie? I'm an old friend of your mummy's."

The sniffles stopped the moment Hermione said her name. Stepping closer to the small figure huddled next to what looked like a rubbish bin in the dark, she moved slowly, careful not to frighten her any more than she was already. She crouched down to get her face on the same level and held out her green dragon. Light from a nearby lamppost illuminated the area just enough that Maisie could see what she held. Relief was written all over the girl. She rushed towards Hermione, grabbed the dragon from her, and threw her arms around Hermione's neck.

Startled at first by the feel of the girl's tiny arms around her, Hermione froze. Maisie's renewed cries softened the older witch. Maybe some would find it odd that she wrapped her arms around the terrified child who was a product of an illicit affair between her husband and a woman she loathed to offer her comfort, but it felt right to Hermione. How could she be angry with an innocent child? Especially one who had been ripped out of bed away from her mother by a madman and dumped on a dark street all alone? Just as it wasn't Oliver's fault that he was born with two horrible parents, it wasn't Maisie's fault either. No matter what happened next, no matter what the future brought for either of them, she knew that her anger would always be placed right where it belonged: at the feet of the poor girl's parents.

She wasn't sure how much time passed with the terrified child in her arms before her tears slowed to a trickle and her hiccups abated. Probably just a couple of minutes. The girl wasn't a pampered weakling. Yet again, Hermione felt anger begin to well up inside of her chest. What sort of existence was the poor child living if she was so easily pacified? She didn't deserve to be afraid. No child did.

"Maisie, darling, do you know where the bad man went?"

"He left me… and… and he disappeared."

Hermione's anger only grew more potent. She knew that she would need an outlet for the emotions she was experiencing very soon or she'd be in danger of another magical outburst like she had the day she first snuck up to Ginny's house and peeped in the window. Aubin needed to die and she wanted to make it painful. With a promise that she would take her back to her mummy, Hermione tightened her grip on the girl and Disapparated them both back to the small house they'd only left a short time before.

The scene inside of Ginny's house was only slightly different when Hermione stepped over the threshold still holding Maisie close. It was impossible to miss Rodolphus' scowl. Evidently he didn't care much for what he was seeing, but Hermione didn't care. If it was up to him, he would've allowed Aubin to hurt the child. Ginny's relieved sobs mixed with Maisie's cry for her mother only made his mood worsen. She didn't hesitate to hand the child over to her mother. For an excuse to keep from looking at the annoyed wizard, Hermione looked around the room for the other occupant.

William Wood was no longer lying on the floor stunned. Conscious and also extremely relieved to see Maisie back in her mother's arms, he was tied to a dining chair next to the small corner that served as the house's kitchen. There was evident fear all over his features. He knew what was going to come next wasn't going to be good. Thanks to what he'd done to her, Hermione no longer felt the least amount of sympathy for the man. Once she did. No longer. He'd killed that back in his lover's cottage when he tried to kill her.

"Now that the child has been returned, it's time that we got on with the main event for the evening. Ginny, I suggest that if you don't want your daughter to see blood, you take her somewhere else."

"Is it really necessary to do this, Rodolphus?"

It was foolish to ask Rodolphus that question. Not caring in the slightest that she was still holding her young daughter, the wizard glared at Ginny and didn't even bother hiding the fact that he had his wand pointed in their direction.

"This man attempted to kill Hermione twice. Do I have to show you what it is I do to those who touch what is mine without my permission? I can assure you that you wouldn't like it. Neither would she."

His threat to the woman's child was unmistakeable. He was playing a dangerous game threatening a mother with violence against her child. Ginny hadn't stayed alive for twenty years fighting with the Resistance by being easily defeated. She was a formidable opponent, one that could very well be Rodolphus' equal in a duel. He would be wise to remember that fact.

But, it was a battle that Ginny wasn't prepared to fight in that moment. Not while she held Maisie. Turning her attention to her best friend, tears rolled down both of their cheeks. It would be goodbye forever when she walked out the front door unless something miraculous happened. Considering the fact that both Rodolphus and Hermione were far more experienced in the act of torture and murder than the idiots who tried it on Hermione, there was very little chance that they would fail.

"Will, I…"

"Go, Ginny. Take Maisie somewhere safe and far away from here. She doesn't need to see this."

"But…"

"Go."

With her voice heavy with emotion, Ginny whispered that she loved him as she ran out of the door with her daughter. Once the repaired and rehung door clicked shut behind her, the atmosphere in the house changed. While he'd been able to show some strength while Ginny and the girl he claimed as his daughter were present, his resolve cracked. Even with his hands and feet tightly bound to the chair, he was still trembling. If Hermione had him restrained in one of the locked side-rooms of Level Eleven, he wouldn't last long. It was almost unsporting to hurt him.

"Would you like the first blood, my dear?"

Hermione thought back to that horrible night in Aubin's cottage. She'd been very close to death, likely closer than she ever had been before. Feeling weak and so mortal disgusted her. She didn't want to feel that way again. Offering her partner only a silent nod, she didn't want to waste another moment.

"Crucio."

There was a large amount of satisfaction that she felt listening to the man's screams of pain. He'd enjoyed casting the same spell on her over and over again until she was certain that her body was only moments from giving out completely. It was a cruel way to go. Though she would never regret what she did to Amycus Carrow, knowing what he felt in his last minutes of life had been sobering. William Wood was as inexperienced at suffering under the Cruciatus Curse as he was at casting it. Only a minute after she first cast it, Hermione lowered her wand to break the connection. The wizard openly sobbed.

"How pathetic. He wouldn't have survived long in the Dark Lord's court would he, my dear?"

She couldn't agree more. Wanting to feel something more than just the dark magic course through her as she cast the Unforgivable, Hermione opened one of the drawers next to the sink. A large knife was easily found. Though not cursed like the one he used, she wanted him to feel more of the pain he made her suffer. He flinched, but didn't scream when she sliced the skin just under his right eye. Nothing compared to the Cruciatus, the slice was easily endured with little outrage. It was disappointing to say the least. Realizing she wasn't happy with her handiwork, Rodolphus removed the knife from her hand with an encouraging smile.

"Let me try."

He pointed his wand at the bare metal and muttered a curse. The blade glowed a deep red, like it had only just been removed from the fire. Retracing the same line that she used with her cut, Rodolphus pressed the tip of the glowing blade into the wound. Guttural screams erupted out of William Wood. Whatever curse Rodolphus used worked. Hermione smiled.

"Please no more!"

"Pathetic, Wood. You didn't hear me begging for my life this early on when you did the same to me."

Rodolphus wanted more than to just cause the man pain. He had an agenda with his questioning. At first, Wood was reluctant to say a word. Perhaps he was trying to protect those he'd been working with. All it took was a little more pressure before he couldn't handle it any longer. Secrets poured out of him like a broken water jug.

"I didn't want to hurt anyone. Just her. She deserved it for killing my brother."

"Who else did you hurt?"

It wasn't just Rabastan who had a talent for interrogation in the Lestrange family. Hermione thought that he would've made a welcome addition to their department in the Ministry. Secret after secret spilled out. Most of them made very little sense to Hermione. Why did she care what the Resistance was up to? They were on their last legs anyway.

"Aubin was the one who killed Hannah Rowle. I didn't want anyone but her to be harmed. Somehow he figured out that she was the Secret Keeper and knew that she needed to be killed. I thought we were just going to hurt her. I wouldn't have gone along with him if I knew he would be so cold."

Hermione long suspected that Aubin was somehow involved in Hannah's murder, but she hadn't been able to prove it. His tearful confession continued for several more minutes. Each time he insisted that he had nothing to do with Hannah, that he didn't want to hurt her. Hermione believed him. She also thought that the identity of Hannah's killer would be something that Thorfinn would desire. Maybe he'd even wish to track her brother-in-law down at her side.

"Crucio!"

She didn't spare him the final curse. Though she could tell that he was close to cracking, she didn't let up for at least five minutes. When she ended the spell, she knew that if she left him alive, he would never be the same. Good thing for him she had every intention of ending his miserable existence. She should've done it months ago, damn the cost! All it took was one flick of her wrist while Wood tried to catch his breath to open up the flesh at his neck. Deep red blood oozed out of his body at an alarming speed. He was dead in seconds.

"That was diverting. It's been a long time since I allowed myself to indulge."

Offering Rodolphus just a smile in response to his statement, Hermione didn't want to admit that she was feeling the same way. At least one of her problems was gone for good. She wouldn't have to worry about him tracking her ever again. Neither would Draco, for that matter. Perhaps by getting rid of Wood, she might've been helping him as well.

"Now what?"

"We track my brother-in-law."

Hermione pulled the silver button out of her pocket to show to Rodolphus. If Aubin decided to remain in the country, she would be able to find him whenever she was ready. The prospect of him making a run across the border was one she didn't cherish. It was hard enough to find him without that complication.

Taking one last glimpse at the cooling corpse of the hateful man that threatened to kill her for so long, Hermione couldn't even muster up a single ounce of regret. She did what had to be done. Her eyes fell onto the ripped sleeve of his robes. Afraid of what she was seeing, she grabbed his lifeless arm and pulled it closer to examine. A single piece of broken thread marked where a button was supposed to be. She dropped that arm and grabbed the other. A long line of colorful curse words that would've made even a sailor blush rumbled out of her mouth.

She'd tracked the wrong wizard. The silver button belonged to William Wood, not Aubin. A thorough examination of the contents of the cottage came up empty for a possession of his. Hermione wanted to scream. She was back at the very beginning. Where Aubin was was anyone's guess.