November 16th

It took an entire day of worrying and second-guessing herself to get Hermione to finally make up her mind. Once she saw Rosalind settled safely in the bedroom next to Augustus', she rushed back to the Three Broomsticks. Another moment in the company of her ex-lover and she feared that her immense gratitude might make her do something she would regret. There would always be a kind of love between them even if it wasn't exactly healthy or what all of the great love songs were written about. She'd felt safe with Augustus nearby and hoped that Rosalind would as well. After all, she was out of options.

Only a little over six weeks remained until the end of the year. Hermione couldn't believe how much had happened in that time or that she'd survived it at all. Many days in the previous months left her worried that she was running out of time. Maybe, if she was really lucky and didn't make too many mistakes, she might actually make it to the end of the year alive. It was a hope that she carried within the darkest parts of her heart, but one that she didn't actually believe would come to pass.

She'd made too many enemies in her life. Including her husband, it seemed. They hadn't spoken since the night she dropped his watch as she walked out the door of his stolen cottage. He didn't trust her anymore. Maybe he never really did. Were those weeks where she was foolish enough to believe that they could actually have a future been nothing but a fantasy inside a sick woman's deluded mind? Antonin seemed to believe that she was working with Rodolphus or she was still involved with him in a sexual relationship. What sort of lies was Thorfinn filling his ear with? Or was it his own paranoid, jealous mind that was creating the scenarios?

The more she considered how messed up everything had gotten in her marriage, the more she was ready to continue her plans. She had several more enemies still alive. Some that had done their damnedest to ruin her life or the lives of the people she loved. That could not be borne. Revenge might have been a poor motivator, but it was all she had. And in order to keep going forward, she knew that she would have to do something that made her sick to her stomach.

Pushing aside her concerns for the moment, she occupied her mind with the simple task of repacking her beaded bag. The Three Broomsticks had been a suitable temporary home while she needed it, but it was time to move on. She wouldn't get as far as she needed hiding away in the rented room. The real action was a few hundred miles south of there. As she moved about the room checking to make certain she wasn't leaving anything behind, she could feel herself grow more and more nervous with each passing moment. Was she making the right decision?

When she no longer had the act of packing to keep her from delaying her exodus any longer, Hermione took one last look at the room that had been her short-term home. She knew she wouldn't be back. Downstairs many of the villagers were gathering for an early lunch. Just like a trusty hound, Thorfinn sat on his usual barstool surveying the main room. His eyes fell on her, but he didn't say a word or even nod in her direction. She was taking a big risk leaving Hogsmeade. If Antonin discovered where she was going, and she was positive that he would, it might be the final nail in the coffin of their marriage. Some things were unforgivable.

"Rosmerta, I need to check out."

The owner of the Three Broomsticks narrowed her eyes at Hermione's announcement as if she couldn't trust what she was hearing. When she didn't immediately hand her a bill or even act like she was going to, Hermione's frustration grew. She slammed the key to her room loudly on the bar top, not caring that she had an audience. Didn't Rosmerta recognize a woman on the verge of ruining her own life? Couldn't she tell that any delay at all might prevent her from going through with her terrible plan?

"I need to pay you."

"No, you don't."

She was confused. While she had paid for part of her stay, she knew she hadn't paid for everything. Rosmerta wasn't known for being a generous person, especially not to people that she hated. Hermione dug into her bag to pull out a handful of gold galleons. If the woman didn't tell her how much she owed, she was just going to leave something behind, even if it was more than she was required to pay. She wouldn't take the hateful woman's charity.

"Put your gold away, Madam Dolohov. Your husband has been paying your bill for weeks. You owe me nothing."

Hermione's eyes immediately sought out Thorfinn. The wizard wasn't even making it a secret that he was watching the entire exchange. He would be the sort to pay for her room and board at her husband's insistence. Thorfinn would do anything for his best friend, even when he was trying to make it seem like he loathed the very ground he walked on. Annoyed that they had some sort of arrangement behind her back, she crossed the room to stand in front of the blond.

"You can tell Antonin that I no longer require his assistance. I'm not his obligation anymore."

Thorfinn didn't say a word in response. Not that she expected him to. Since the murder of his wife, he'd become a wizard of few words. Assisting her in two brutal murders helped to thaw their chilly relationship only temporarily. Clearly they were back to being little more than acquaintances. It would've hurt her feelings if she didn't have other worries to concern her instead.

She left Hogsmeade only moments after exiting the Three Broomsticks. Fearful once again that she would lose her nerve, she couldn't wait. The gates to the Lestrange family's estate were open, welcoming her to their little slice of the world. Was she making the biggest mistake of her life or was she doing what was necessary? Even Charlie Weasley seemed to believe that this was what she should do if she wanted the opportunity to bring Rodolphus down once and for all.

The walk to the Dower House took her longer than she expected. Each step grew more difficult. She felt very seriously that she was walking towards her own death. Rodolphus was obsessed. He wouldn't let her leave the house once she announced her intention to take him up on his offer. She would have to follow through with her plans no matter how dangerous and foolish they might be.

Before she could even raise her hand to knock on the Dower House's front door, it swung open to reveal a smiling wizard entirely too proud of himself. She longed to curse the smile off of his face, but instead did her best to seem like she was pleased to be there. Was he always in the habit of staring out his window on the off-chance that she might decide to visit? Or were their gates warded like Draco's flat to warn the residents inside when they had a visitor? Of course, it was also possible that one of his spies in Hogsmeade informed him that she'd checked out of the Three Broomsticks.

"Dare I hope that you've finally decided to take me up on my generous offer?"

"I'm fairly certain one of the barmaids, maybe even Rosmerta herself, is spying on me for my husband. I'd rather he not know where I'm at or what I'm having for breakfast."

It was at least partially the truth. Rodolphus had a real talent for sniffing out deceptions.

"Are you working with my husband? Are you planning on telling him everything I do or say? Because all of these secret alliances are threatening to do my head in."

Rodolphus' boisterous laughter once made her laugh too. When he allowed himself to let loose and stop being the uptight, overly prim and proper Pureblood, he could be a lot of fun. She almost missed the days they used to have together. That was. of course, until she remembered the upsetting fact that he was manipulating her mind with altered potions and memory charms.

"No, my dear, I can assure you on my honor as a Lestrange that I have no alliance, secret or otherwise, with your husband. If it was up to me, he'd be dead and no longer a problem."

"Surely you don't give yourself enough credit, Roddy. If you wanted someone dead, even Antonin, you could get it done."

"Ahh, I fear you overestimate the power I have. There are very valid reasons why Antonin has yet to be killed and why he's been allowed to continue his futile attempt to try to put his own spies on the Wizengamot."

Hermione was exhausted just thinking about all of the intrigue and secrecy that had become a part of their society since the Dark Lord was murdered by her husband. Hearing that Rodolphus was aware of what Antonin was trying to do also wasn't a surprise. Like she was well aware of already, there were spies everywhere. No doubt one of the people Antonin believed he could trust implicitly was passing along information to Rodolphus. Her money was on Draco. While she wasn't aware of the extent of their working relationship, the fact that Draco had a matching silver mirror seemed to indicate he was fully entrenched. He'd already made it a habit of betraying the Dolohov family to his uncle when it suited his purposes. Why would he stop?

"So you're saying that you don't have complete power in all of this?"

"You have always been a curious one, haven't you?"

"I see that you're not denying anything I've said."

"No, Hermione, I do not have complete power. How would that be any different from how the Dark Lord chose to rule? The purpose of this experiment was to ensure that the government continued for more than one generation and that it wasn't ruled by a dictator with absolute power."

Expecting to get actual answers from Rodolphus was always a fruitless endeavor. He should've considered making a career for himself in law when he was younger. She'd met very few people who could speak so eloquently at length and not actually say anything. It was a talent that few could lay claim to. She knew that no matter how many questions she asked him, she wouldn't get straight answers. Subtlety would need to be employed. And perhaps a large vat of his favorite wine. Maybe even… no, she didn't want to allow her mind to travel down that path yet.

"I'm pleased that you decided to leave that horrible rat-infested tavern. Even my house-elves live in finer accommodations than those."

"My head hurts, Rodolphus. I'd like to lay down."

He took her arm in his to lead her up the stairs to the bedroom. The horrifying reality that she was going to be expected to sleep next to him in the same bed hadn't quite hit her fully. Not until they stood outside the closed door that led to the room she'd been in countless times in the past. Before he reached for the doorknob to allow her entrance, he smiled and took her instead to the empty guest room on the other side of the corridor.

"I've never wanted you in my bed without it being your choice, my dear, and that has not changed. When you are ready…"

He kissed her hand. She didn't have the courage to tell him that he might die before she was ready for that to happen again. Somehow she didn't think that was the response he'd want to hear.