November 8th

Patience did not come easily for Hermione. It rarely did for most Gryffindors. Used to just rushing out in the face of danger without care for the consequences, either they learned how to be patient or they didn't survive in their dangerous world long enough for it to matter. She was grateful that she learned to adapt the older she got. Harry would hardly recognize his best friend if he was able to see her again. There were days she felt like she'd never be like the girl she used to be.

When the sun had been down for a few hours and the clock struck midnight, Hermione knew she'd been patient long enough. She descended the stairs from her rented bedroom to the main room of the Three Broomsticks. Just as she suspected, Thorfinn was settled down on his favorite barstool gulping down glasses of his preferred fire whiskey. Maybe it would've been better to approach him earlier in the evening when he was likely to be more sober, but she didn't think that was necessary. He was almost always drunk those days. And besides, she thought she would get a better response from him if he wasn't entirely sober.

She took the seat next to him, ignoring the glare he shot in her direction. Even though he might have been softening towards her somewhat, she knew that he was still angry. Likely there would always be a part of him that would blame her for what happened to his wife. Whether it was rational or not didn't really matter. She couldn't blame him or even feel the least bit offended. Part of her felt like she was responsible.

There was a very valid reason why she chose not to go straight to Antonin with information about his brother. As much as Antonin might have claimed he wanted his brother dead, Hermione feared that faced with the actual moment of killing his younger brother, her husband wouldn't be able to do it. She didn't want there to be a single opportunity for mistake. Also, she had a legitimate fear that if Antonin was aware of what his brother did and told Thorfinn before she had a chance, the blond wizard might kill the murderer of his wife before she had a chance to help. That was not an option in her mind. She had to see the light leave Aubin's eyes before she could relax again. Antonin would try to keep her out of it if he could. Maybe he would think that he was 'protecting' her. It didn't matter. She wouldn't let him take that experience away from her no matter how many lies she had to tell and secrets she had to keep.

"I know who killed Hannah."

His bloodshot blue eyes narrowed. Turning his massive torso to look her straight in the eyes, Hermione could tell that he wasn't going to dignify her with a response. She would have to give him more information before he would speak. It almost made her laugh.

"I'm going to kill him tonight. Would you like to help?"

There was simply no way she was going to go to Malfoy Manor by herself. She wasn't stupid no matter how many mistakes she'd made in recent days. Going alone was just asking for trouble. Considering the number of times he'd betrayed what little sliver passed for her trust, Draco might have been springing a trap for her to fall into. Rodolphus wouldn't hesitate to accompany her, so if Thorfinn refused, at least she knew that she had a backup. She just thought that maybe exacting his revenge would help the brute move forward in his mourning. It saddened her to see the drastic changes he'd undergone in such a short period of time. A little over a month had gone by and he was almost a stranger.

Thorfinn picked up his glass and knocked all of the contents back in a single gulp. When it was empty, he slammed the glass on top of the bar and stood to his feet. Still refusing to show any other emotion besides disdain for the witch next to him, the wizard stared at Hermione.

"Are we going or not?"

She smiled when he asked his question. Rising quickly to her feet, she didn't want to give him a second to rethink his decision. Outside of the tavern she told him to Apparate to Malfoy Manor. Thorfinn narrowed his eyes again and stared for a beat or two, but said nothing about their destination. Just did as she bid. Hermione was only seconds behind him.

The opulent Manor loomed in the distance. She had to fight off a shiver up her spine. It had been over twenty years since she last stepped foot anywhere near the wretched place. Left up to her, she'd burn it to the ground. She didn't blame Draco for having his own flat away from the horrible manor. Thorfinn didn't want to waste time. He was past the gates and halfway to the front door before Hermione even moved. She practically had to run to catch up with him.

Lucius Malfoy stood waiting for his guests in the doorway. Annoyed at being left to wait for so long, he almost seemed like the wizard he was years earlier when Hermione was a child and he hadn't yet been completely disgraced. It was easy to remember why she loathed him so much when he stared at her with that haughty expression of his that she thought she'd seen the last of. Evidently his close relationship with Rodolphus empowered the cretin. He might even be living under the delusion that he would one day rise to his previous elevated position in society. How Hermione wished to shove into his face the impossibility of that desire! She hated the man.

"My little brother is in my study. Please try to keep his blood off the rugs. So tiresome to clean them."

Thorfinn knew exactly where to go. Once again that night Hermione had to rush to keep up with the burly wizard. It had been a long time since she last saw him so determined. An encouraging sight, she had to push it to the back of her mind to consider later. She had to remain focused at all times for what they were about to do. One misstep could result in yet another failure.

Aubin was terrified, just as Hermione liked to see him. When she entered the room, his eyes went wide and they only grew wider when he focused on Thorfinn's face. Realizing that the widower of the woman he'd callously murdered weeks earlier was only steps away, he reached into his pocket for his wand, ready to commit murder again if it saved his sorry arse. At least there wasn't an innocent child to be used as a shield.

"Where is my..?"

Working himself into a state of panic, it was amusing to watch Aubin realize he didn't even have his wand for protection. Lucius held up the piece of wood his illegitimate baby brother was looking for. Aubin's face turned a deep shade of green. He knew that he wasn't long for their world.

"You really should pay close attention to your wand, brother. I took it when you weren't looking."

Any hope that he might have recovered his wand when he tried to lunge at his brother was dashed by a lazy flick of Hermione' wrist. Much like what had been done to her the night she was tortured, she flung her brother-in-law across the room into a heavy bookshelf. A loud crack and a shriek of pain from the monster made her smile. She always did enjoy causing pain to those who deserved it.

"Please remember what I said about the rugs. Take all of the time you require."

Lucius exited his study and locked the door behind him. With the click of the lock in everyone's ears, Hermione could practically smell the fear radiating off of Aubin. He cowered in the corner near the bookshelf he'd slammed into, acting as if they might just leave him alone if he didn't move. How ridiculous and child-like fear could render a person. She'd had plenty of occasions over time as an interrogator to see similar behavior in other victims. Of course, she would never consider Aubin a victim. He deserved to die a painful death. Based on the heat in Thorfinn's eyes, she felt confident that he would get one before they left that night.

"Lovely to see you again, Aubin. I was just about to tell Thorfinn here exactly what your former lover told me about the day that you murdered his wife."

"I…"

"Nothing you say will make a bit of difference."

She gave a brief explanation of what she'd uncovered the night that she and Rodolphus tortured William Wood to death. The redder Thorfinn's cheeks grew, the more she almost felt sorry for Aubin. Her brother-in-law was afraid out of his wits. There was no way for him to leave the room and Thorfinn's temper was legendary. Perhaps he should've considered the very moment he found himself in before he cast the Avada that killed Hannah. No doubt he would've decided to come up with a different plan.

When Thorfinn fully understood the treachery of that day, he was across the room in just a few steps. With his hand gripped around Aubin's throat, he yanked the cowering wizard off of the floor and slammed his back against the bookshelf again. All color in Aubin's face disappeared. If Hermione smelled the acrid smell of urine or an even more unpleasant odor, she wouldn't have been surprised. Aubin was a coward and Thorfinn knew what to do with those.

"You killed my wife?"

Aubin gulped, but he didn't say anything. He was too afraid. Likely he was about to lose all control of his own body. Hermione knew the signs. Usually it took longer to get to a breaking point, but he was soft. Thorfinn tightened his grip on the cretin's throat. Still he said nothing.

"My wife was the most beautiful woman that ever walked on this earth. She was kind and generous and pure. She was too good for this world. And you dared to kill her?"

When it was evident that Aubin wasn't even capable of uttering a response, Thorfinn released his hold on his neck. Gasping for air and rubbing at his throat, tears rolled down his cheeks. Hermione briefly considered trying to find Antonin just so he could witness what an embarrassment his younger brother turned out to be. But, she stopped herself. This was Thorfinn's moment. If ever there was someone who needed to make the arsehole pay, it was Thorfinn.

Perhaps Aubin thought that Thorfinn would just kill him with an Unforgivable like he'd done his wife. It would've been painless and over before he knew what was happening. Monsters like him didn't deserve such an easy death. Not once did Thorfinn even bother to remove his wand from his pocket. He uttered not a single spell. It was his desire to do everything by hand. Aubin didn't remain silent long. His screams likely could be heard in every corner of the massive mansion.

First, Thorfinn snapped each of Aubin's arms. Though his victim might have been considered to be in good shape, it didn't take much effort for the bones to break in Thorfinn's hands. He was methodical in his actions. He started with the wrists, then moved up to the forearms, and ended by practically pulling the arm out of its socket. The exact actions were repeated on the other arm. There was no way for Aubin to fight back with his arms when he was finished. Not that Aubin could've been able to summon up enough strength or been able to stop the never ceasing flow of tears out of his terrified eyes.

Next, he used his beefy fists to punch the man's ribs. Several feet away Hermione could hear the cracking of the ribs with each blow. It was a good thing that Thorfinn wasn't going to allow the man to live much longer. The sound of his labored breathing was getting on Hermione's nerves. Why must death produce so many annoying sounds?

He used his feet to stomp on Aubin's legs. Just like the arms, he started with the ankles, then moved up to the shins, then to the kneecaps, and finishing with breaking the femurs of each leg. Aubin was going in and out of consciousness by that point. The pain had to have been excruciating. She hoped that it was cathartic for Thorfinn.

Aubin's nose broke with the first punch. At first she tried to keep a running count of the number of blows to his face, but there came a point when even Hermione had to look away from the carnage. A madness came over Thorfinn. She didn't like seeing how far gone her friend could get in his blood thirst. All she could hear was the sound of his fist meeting flesh over and over again. No longer could she hear any whimpering or pleading. Deciding that she had to stop Thorfinn, she forced herself to look.

There was nothing left. Nothing but blood and tissue she didn't want to identify. Placing a gentle hand on Thorfinn's shoulder, she prepared herself for accidentally getting hurt in the process. She'd been injured before when she tried to stop the wizard lost in his rage. Though he felt guilty about it after the fact, he warned her that she shouldn't try it again. This time, however, he calmed at the touch of her hand.

"Thorfinn, it's over. He's dead. I think he's been dead a while now."

His bloodied hand fell to his side. She couldn't be sure how much of it was Aubin's blood and how much of it was his. Prepared to cleanse his hand, she gasped when Thorfinn burst into loud sobs. Unsure if he would push her away or not, Hermione fell to her knees next to the wizard that had been her friend for almost twenty years. She opened her arms and to her surprise, he allowed her to comfort him.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed on the floor before they both stood up and left. It didn't really matter. All she could think of was how glad she was that it finally seemed like the wall that had been built up between them following Hannah's murder was starting to crumble. And Aubin was dead, of course. She slipped under the covers a short time later to sleep more contented than she had in a very long time.