December 1st

It unnerved Hermione how Rodolphus watched her from across the room whenever she had the misfortune to be in the same one he was. She'd never been able to read the wizard for as long as she'd known him. When she was more inclined to enjoy being in his company and to actually seek him out, she often found herself annoyed that he wasn't easier to understand. Part of her job as an interrogator required a certain set of skills that she couldn't just leave at the office at the end of the day. Everywhere she went, no matter if it was professional or personal, she tried to read the people around her to better understand them, to figure out when they were lying. More than a few times Antonin had to steer her from guests at social occasions because she was making them uncomfortable with her inquiries. She was just being friendly exactly as he implored her to be before they entered whatever awful soirée their presence was requested! But with Rodolphus, she knew that he could keep the content of his thoughts to himself indefinitely.

Their conversations about Ginny in the previous two days had left her feeling sick to her stomach. More than just hating how bizarre it felt to actually feel sorry for and pity the woman she'd never felt entirely adequate next to, she feared that what he was planning with Ginny would have ramifications that were far-reaching. He'd already made her kill her own brother in some sort of bizarre, sick punishment for daring to go against his wishes when it came to Hermione. What would happen next?

She began to loathe the times they spent in the dining room together. Raised in a properly formal home, Rodolphus insisted that no meal ever be eaten standing up in the kitchen over the sink. Antonin had similar feelings when everyone was home for dinner. Breakfast was usually shared at the table, but it was every man for himself for lunch unless her husband was feeling particularly domestic or he had something pressing on his mind that he needed to distract himself from with menial tasks. Not Rodolphus. Sickness was the only acceptable excuse for missing a meal and even then, he wasn't always lenient. Considering he'd squeezed her throat after he insulted her days earlier, Hermione would've rather starved.

But, she knew all too well that she wouldn't be able to gain the wizard's trust and hopefully, by extension, more knowledge about what he'd done to her brain and why if she continued to avoid him. She was heartened by Alexandre's sneakily delivered missive from Antonin that Babajide Akingbade was looking into the issue further. Everything that she'd learned from the three Lestranges only served to confuse her mind even more. She hoped that Antonin was serious that the memory charms expert was encouraged by the additional information. Maybe there was hope that one day she might actually be memory charm-free. It still rankled her nerves that Mr. Akingbade lied to her and her husband went along with it, even if she could understand why they didn't want to tell her. She had been fairly delicate mentally and emotionally during that time period. Fear of the unknown might very well have pushed her over the edge. She only hoped that that wouldn't be the case.

"You're hardly eating, my dear. Do you not care for your lunch?"

"No, it's lovely. I'm just not very hungry."

Rodolphus continued to stare at her over his own plate. She didn't understand why he was so fascinated by her, but judging by the way she saw his eyes dip below her collar, she could imagine. He'd been patient with her following their one attempt in the bedroom that did not end how he wished. She still couldn't believe she was able to reject his demands so easily. She would not tell him that she belonged to him ever again. That was a decision she made in the heat of the moment that she would stick by no matter what. Of course it was all too apparent that it would only be a matter of time before he tried to get her in his bed again. The predatory gaze of his eyes was all the proof anyone needed. Or, perhaps even worse than trying to renew their former amorous activities, he might slip her another potion. Whatever the potential risk was, she had to be ready to meet it head-on.

The opening of the front door on its own a few minutes later provided a welcome distraction. Only one person ever dared to enter Rodolphus' house without knocking. Knowing that he should expect his little brother to enter the dining room in just a few seconds, Rodolphus wiped his mouth with his napkin and sighed. His temper had been very short with his brother lately. Hermione could see the tension. Rabastan seemed to be the only oblivious one.

"How nice of you to join us, Rabby, without an invitation. Should I order the house-elves to bring you a plate?"

"No, no, thank you. I couldn't eat a bite."

It was clear that something was weighing heavily on Rabastan's mind. Hermione didn't think that he'd discovered his wife had been murdered. Even he would've been more animated in his speech and actions if he'd stumbled upon her body in the hedge maze. While she didn't believe that Gemma was still laying out in the freezing gardens, she couldn't be certain. She wasn't going to go look for herself.

"I haven't seen Gemma in days. At first I thought that she'd just gone to her mother's like she always does when we have a row, but she's usually back by now. I flooed that horrible woman and she said that Gemma hasn't been there in over a month."

There was more petulance in his tone than anger or fear. It was really quite pathetic. Rodolphus seemed on the verge of losing his patience due to his brother's whinging. Or maybe he just didn't want to be reminded of the day he murdered his sister-in-law in cold blood.

"I'm sure she will turn up in a few days when she's done being angry with you for whatever foolish thing you've said or done. Why don't you seek out one of your other witches to get your mind off of her?"

Rabastan's pout was too noticeable to ignore. Rolling his eyes, Rodolphus asked him what his problem was. The younger of the two brothers appeared to sink into himself, afraid to tell his brother the truth. It took a closed fist slamming down on top of the table and a raised voice from Rodolphus to encourage him to answer.

"I can't find Rosalind Nott. I'm afraid that I've lost her."

"What do you mean you've lost her?"

"I went to the manor the other night to visit her, but she was no longer there. Millicent moved back in with her daughters. She said that she and her brother threw Rosalind out of the house because she'd violated the terms of her marriage contract to Theodore. They didn't know, or care, where the girl has gone."

Rodolphus threw his napkin down angrily and rose to his feet. Despite being a fearsome Death Eater himself with countless kills under his own belt, the little brother in Rabastan still feared his elder brother. The slightest cower in his shoulders amused Hermione even as she worried what was going to happen next.

"I gave you one task, Rabby. One task that I thought you could handle because all it involved was you thinking with your cock. Do you have any idea what you've ruined?"

Hoping that if she didn't move at all that Rodolphus might forget she was in the room and spill secrets, Hermione didn't even dare to breathe. When Rodolphus was angry, it was a terrifying sight. She was thankful to not be on the wrong end of it, but knew that one wrong move and it could change.

"Get your cloak, you imbecile. You're coming with me and we're going to find that girl and try to fix what you've ruined."

Though she didn't get to hear anything further on the whole Rosalind issue, Hermione was glad to have the house to herself only a few moments later. Both brothers rushed from the house to do only the gods knew what. She didn't even bother to bite back her grin. They wouldn't find Rosalind no matter what they did. While it was never a good idea to get too cocky and arrogant, she knew that taking the young witch to Augustus was the best decision she'd made in awhile. He would keep her safe, but more importantly, no one would ever suspect she was there.

Some of her appetite began to come back with her improving mood. Satisfied that none of her food had been drugged, she started to actually eat some of it. Her thoughts traveled to poor Rosalind as was to be expected. As glad as she was that Rabastan slipped that potion in Theodore's wine to make him temporarily impotent, it did cause more complications than he anticipated. She wondered if Rodolphus was aware of the drastic step his brother took while Theodore was still alive.

A thought came to her that she'd never considered before. Berating herself internally for not even considering the option even as she laughed, she knew what she needed to do next. She lingered inside the Dower House for a few more minutes just to make sure she didn't catch either of the brothers on her way out of the estate gates. There was a potion she needed to buy in Diagon Alley.

Saturdays were always a busy shopping day for the London wizarding district, especially in December. Unbelievably, Christmas was less than a month away. Where did all of the time go? She couldn't believe the year was almost over. Thinking about how different every aspect of her life was from the early hours of the New Year when she was first approached by Draco Malfoy was unnerving. It was almost like she'd been living someone else's life for so many years and she was just waking up.

The potion she wanted wasn't exactly illegal, but it was somewhat suspicious. Used primarily for curing dragon pox, the side-effects were well-known. She knew that she needed to pick one of the apothecaries on a side street and not on Diagon Alley itself. Less chance of other customers seeing her or her purchases. Remembering one that she liked just a short walk away down a lesser traveled road near Gringotts, she made her way there as nonchalantly as possible to keep from attracting attention. Thanks to the cold weather, she was able to keep most of her face and all of her hair covered up with a hat and scarf. Once inside the small shop, she headed straight for the aisle in the back she knew she would find the right potion. As she was pulling a vial down off the shelf, she heard someone nearby let out of a low whistle.

"That's a nasty potion, love. What poor soul are you going to give that to?"

She smiled at the sound of Augustus' quiet whisper.

"Rodolphus."

"Ahh, then perhaps you should get a second vial."

His familiar wink and warm smile put her instantly at ease. Both of them checked the immediate area for potential eavesdroppers. Convinced they were alone except for the shopkeeper half-asleep at the till on the other side of the shop, Augustus kissed her cheek. He explained that he was there getting all of the necessary potions that a pregnant witch required.

"I have to go to multiple shops so no one gets suspicious. What does a widower need prenatal potions for? Thankfully, many of the potions she needs can be easily substituted by some that aren't quite so obvious they're for pregnancy. Oh, if you want your potion to be extra nasty, add three drops of fresh lemon juice to the vial and shake it up."

"What will that do?"

"Make him think that everything's working as it should be up until the moment his trousers come down and air hits his todger."

As bizarre as it was to be having the conversation she was with Augustus, she appreciated his assistance. He was much more skilled in potions than she was. She assumed that he did a lot of research with potions in his position as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, but of course, he could never confirm nor deny her suspicions.

"How is Rosalind?"

Augustus' entire face lit up at the sound of the witch's name.

"She's doing very well. She has been an absolute delight to have. My house hasn't been so clean in years and…" He patted his belly. "I'm going to have to buy new clothes if I don't stop eating so much."

The smile slipped from his face and he grew serious. Hermione worried what he was going to say next. Had she made a mistake bringing the frightened girl to him?

"Young witches like her aren't ever encouraged to learn more than just how to take care of their husband. It's honestly a miracle she was allowed to stay in Hogwarts long enough to take her NEWTs." He paused, considering his next words before saying them. She grew nervous, unsure if he was about to tell her that he was reconsidering having her in his home. Even telling her that she was a joy didn't dispel her fears. "When Rabastan and his brother are dead, I want to formally offer Rosalind and her child my protection."

"Are you saying that you want to marry her?"

Anger like she hadn't seen from him in years appeared suddenly in his reddened face. Hermione felt nervous to be around him. Did she insult him by asking the innocent question?

"I think there have been quite enough men old enough to be her grandfather trying to climb inside her bed, don't you?"

Immediately, she felt chastised. Augustus needed a few moments to calm down after his impassioned statement. Clearly, she'd completely misunderstood the entire situation. It had never been her intention to insult him.

"I meant adoption. She and I are both alone in this world, and with the baby coming, we could have our own little family. The last thing I want is for that poor child to think she has to get married to any disgusting wizard who will have her just to have someone to provide for her. No, she will marry again only when she is madly in love with some fool who doesn't deserve her. Preferably when she's at least thirty. Forty would be better."

She couldn't help but laugh. He was already sounding like an overprotective father. Most of Augustus' life hadn't been happy thanks to some poor decisions he made when he was younger. Hermione knew that his biggest regret was the loss of his family. She leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"You're a good man, Augie."

"No, I'm not, but I feel like I could be. This could be my chance to start over. Who knows? Maybe in a few years I'll meet some fascinating widow and fall madly in love again myself."

"I knew I made the right decision taking her to you. Thank you."

"No, thank you."

When she returned to the Dower House a short time later, she did so with more confidence that she'd been able to make at least a few good choices in her life. She added the drops of lemon juice to the potion vial and waited for her chance.