December 18th

Admitting defeat felt like a betrayal to Antonin. Hermione refused to give up hope that there was something wrong with either his watch or the spell she was casting instead of facing the very real possibility that the spell would never work again for her husband. She wasn't sure how many times she tried to cast the spell steps away from Draco's unconscious body before she finally decided to return to the cottage they'd been staying in to hopefully find another possession of his that she could try. Long enough that she saw Draco's eyes begin to flutter as the stunner wore off.

Tearing the holiday cottage upside down did her no good other than it helped her keep moving. She dumped her own beaded bag out in the vain hope that she'd picked up something that belonged to her husband by accident. As the sun began to rise over the horizon, she was even desperate enough to cast the spell on the mirror she'd stolen from Draco. If it technically belonged to Antonin, she thought it might work. It didn't.

A trip to Hogsmeade and to the blackened hole where their home once stood was a fruitless search as well. Assuming there had been anything left over to begin with once Rodolphus blew up their house, the remnants had been picked over by scavengers. She would've loved to come face to face with one of the morbid curiosity seekers hoping to uncover a souvenir from the ruins of the fearsome Dolohov house. They would've thought twice about stealing from another's misfortunes again.

Once she was in the village she made a stop at Thorfinn's house. Considering the state that she'd left him in when she ran out of the shop the night before, he deserved to have some answers. If he'd been able to sleep a wink she would've been surprised. One knock on the front door brought the massive wizard. Based on his disheveled clothing and his bloodshot eyes, he'd spent the night drinking. He stepped back silently to allow her entrance into his house.

"You didn't find him?"

She shook her head, unable to trust herself to speak in that moment. It had been an emotional night and she was exhausted. If she allowed herself to sit down for even a moment, she feared that she would fall asleep. Thorfinn picked up a bottle of fire whiskey to drink straight from the neck. When he offered it to her, she thought about refusing for only a half-second. What did it matter that it was only seven in the morning?

"I tried tracking him with his watch, but it didn't work. Something's wrong with the watch. Maybe it won't work because the watch itself was broken."

It was a flimsy excuse, but she was desperate to keep hope. What would she do if she had to admit to herself that her husband was dead? She didn't want to consider the possibility. That wasn't what was supposed to happen. She was prepared for her death, not his. There was a plan in place. Antonin would take Oliver somewhere far away from the violence of their home country. Maybe to Africa with his brother Alain. He could study at Uagadou under Babajide Akingbade. She'd already planned it all out in her head.

"I was hoping that maybe Antonin left something of his in your house that I could try the tracking spell on."

"What does it mean when the spell doesn't work?"

Most people who met Thorfinn assumed that he was all brawn and no brains. They were fools. He was never in a rush to correct them either. It was much easier to be stealthy and secretive when everyone thought he was dumb. She didn't want to tell him the truth about the spell because she didn't want to admit it to herself. Saying the words out loud felt like a failure.

"It can mean that the person who owns the possession you cast it on is dead, but that's not always the case."

His loud sigh and droop of his shoulders threatened to break Hermione's heart. She knew what he was thinking without even needing to hear the words. Hot tears formed in her eyes, but she refused to let them drip down her cheeks. Rubbing them away with more force than was necessary, she wouldn't allow herself to become emotional.

"I was worried last night that you wouldn't be able to find him."

"Just because I haven't found him yet doesn't mean I won't. I refuse to believe he's dead, Thorfinn."

"Whether you want to believe it or not, it's the most likely explanation for why you can't find him. I think maybe it's best if you go up to the castle and take Ollie as far away from here as you can, Princess. Antonin told me how to get into contact with his brothers if I needed them. I'm sure they'll help you get settled somewhere safe."

Running away without Antonin wasn't an option. She didn't want to even consider it. As she watched the wizard guzzle another mouthful of fire whiskey, she could feel anger building up inside her chest. How could he call himself Antonin's best friend if he was willing to give up on him so quickly? She knew just looking at Thorfinn that his grief was real. Maybe the loss of his wife prevented him from being optimistic. She didn't care. It was still infuriating.

"I can't believe you are just giving up on him."

"Princess, you saw all of that blood. And you can't track him? You've got to consider the likely possibility that Antonin's dead."

Hearing the words made her stomach twist into knots. She feared she might throw up. Drinking the fire whiskey on an empty stomach had been a terrible idea that she regretted.

"There's got to be another explanation."

"Maybe there is, but you're not going to figure it out in the state you're in. Neither am I. Go take a shower and burn those bloody rags you're wearing. Sleep in Daisy's room. It'll be easier to think when we've both had some sleep."

She couldn't ignore the wisdom in his words. Operating at anything less than full power wasn't doing them any favors. And she really couldn't bear the feel of her bloody robes another moment once he pointed them out. Blood didn't usually bother her. It was a hazard of her career after all, but knowing that she was sitting in clothes stained with her husband's blood was a little much. Taking his advice whether she wanted to or not, Hermione couldn't deny that he was right again. Especially not when she slipped underneath the covers of his eldest daughter's bed to fall asleep within moments.

If she discovered later that Thorfinn charmed the shower in his daughters' bathroom to pour out a calming potion on her while she bathed, she wouldn't have been surprised. Rarely had she felt so relaxed when she got out. Unclear how many hours she slept, she took advantage of the safety of the Rowle family home. Thorfinn might not have been her husband, but he would fight to keep her protected no matter what it took. While she didn't know if they would ever get back to the same friendship they had before their world imploded, she knew that he possessed an impressive sense of honor. For his best friend, even if he was dead, he would protect his family.

Thinking about Antonin being dead didn't get easier with the passing of time. Even though she was relaxed and well-rested, Hermione was still worried about him. Night came a lot sooner in their part of the world during that time of year, so it wasn't a surprise that when she finally forced herself to get out of Daisy's bed that the sky was growing dark outside. One more failed attempt at casting the tracking spell on his watch threatened to rob her of all remaining hope. Again she swore to herself that there must be some kind of explanation that didn't mean that he was necessarily dead.

Something Ginny said to her when she was explaining how she first got mixed up with Rodolphus years earlier stuck out in her mind. Ginny claimed that thanks to the wards Rodolphus set up on the house he let her hide in during her pregnancy that not even Draco could track her with his spell. The wards had been removed, but what about other places that were similarly protected? She would never forget how Draco promised her that William Wood wouldn't be able to track her to his flat. Was it possible that Antonin was just being held somewhere that the spell wouldn't work?

"I think I know where Antonin is."

Thorfinn appeared on the verge of throwing something heavy at his houseguest when she barged into his bedroom without invitation. Hermione wasn't afraid of the wizard even when he was in his most sour of moods. There was too much history between them. Instead of losing his temper, he just stared at her without speaking. She knew that if he didn't like what she was about to say that he would let her know. He wasn't exactly a man known for keeping his opinions to himself.

"I want to look for him in Draco Malfoy's flat."

"Why?"

"Because I know for a fact that his tracking spell won't work if the intended target is in his flat. When I was staying there right before I went back to Hogsmeade, he assured me that William Wood couldn't find me there."

The fact that Thorfinn didn't immediately discount her theory as foolish was encouraging. He did, however, remind her that they couldn't just go rushing off to the wizard's flat without a plan like a couple of reckless Gryffindors. She chose not to be offended by the remark because it finally felt like he was coming around to her way of thinking that maybe, just maybe, her husband wasn't dead after all.

"We'll need to wait until it's late and then create some sort of diversion so Malfoy isn't home. You stay here. I'll be back when I have something set up. Don't you dare think about going alone, Princess. Wait for me."

Hermione grew more and more impatient the longer Thorfinn was gone. Part of her feared that he was just humoring her and that he didn't actually have any plan to help her storm her way into Draco's flat. It certainly wouldn't be the first time that one of her allies told her one thing and did another. She took to pacing the lounge waiting for the wizard to return.

It was after midnight before the front door opened to admit the master of the house. Thorfinn greeted her with a tight smile. She knew that he was doing his utmost to keep a positive demeanor around her even though he thought they were about to embark on a foolish, dangerous errand. Somehow Hermione just knew that Antonin wasn't dead. Where else would Draco keep him? And why would he be so eager to have her try out the spell in front of him? No doubt he wanted to witness her breakdown when she couldn't get it to work. It was cruel.

Having Thorfinn at her side again on a mission brought Hermione a sense of comfort. There was familiarity in the act. She took his hand to Side-Along him to the alley just outside of Draco's building. Before they took a single step inside, she explained to him how strong the wards were on the flat. They would have to move quickly. The moment they crossed over the wards, Draco would know they were there. There could be no hesitation. If they lingered too long, Draco would be able to show up with allies. Being outnumbered was never fun.

Her heart was in her throat the entire ride in the lift up to the top floor. Once outside the door to the flat, neither one of them wasted a single motion. Thorfinn blasted a giant hole in the front door. If Draco wasn't aware they were there yet, he certainly was then. Hermione didn't stop to worry about the ramifications. There wasn't time.

She ran through the flat calling out Antonin's name. If he wasn't there, she didn't know where else they could look. She wasn't prepared to admit Thorfinn was right yet. Ignoring the rush of memories that haunted the flat, she ran straight for the guest bedroom that had been hers while she was there. Before she slept in Draco's bed, of course. Only seconds had passed though it felt like much longer.

There was a body in the bed. Unmoving and deathly pale, Hermione feared that they'd been too late. She could feel the emotions building up inside of her, desperate for a release. At the sound of his name coming out of her mouth, Antonin stirred. Hardly enough to prove he was going to survive the ordeal, it was enough to give her hope again.

"Someone's coming, Princess. Sorry, mate. This is going to hurt."

Just as he promised, when Thorfinn picked up his best friend's battered body out of the bed to throw over his shoulder, Antonin groaned. There wasn't time to think about how to make him more comfortable. Not when forces were gathering in the front of the flat. Hermione could hear the footsteps and the whispers that weren't quiet enough. Once again she was grateful to have Thorfinn at her side. If she'd been there alone, there wouldn't have been any hope. Together they could fight through a crowd. They'd done it before.

Draco stood at the end of the corridor with a smirk on his face that Hermione longed to scrape off with her fingernails. What could he possibly find so amusing about the situation? A quick glance proved that they were outnumbered three to one.

"Remember that night in Salisbury, Princess?"

"How could I ever forget it?"

"Good."

She was sincere. One of their first missions together just the two of them after Antonin finally believed that she was capable of going out without his supervision, she and Thorfinn encountered a large group of Resistance wannabes. While certainly not nearly as effective and dangerous as the actual Resistance, the odds were not in their favor. Thorfinn taught her the very important lesson that sometimes it was better to distract one's opponents and run like hell than it was to stay and fight. She closed her eyes just as a spell brighter than a hundred lumoses shot out the end of Thorfinn's wand to light up the entire flat. None of their would-be assailants were prepared for the sudden onslaught of bright light in their eyes. Shouts and groans from all of them proved that it worked. Hermione created a shield large enough to cover the three of them as they ran out of the flat with half-blind wizards trying and failing to hit them with various spells and curses. As they ran to the lift, Hermione sealed the door leading to the stairs shut. They wouldn't be able to run after them immediately when their temporary blindness wore off. Seconds mattered.

Outside in the night air once more, Thorfinn had to stop running to catch his breath. Antonin continued to groan softly, an encouragement that at least he was still alive even if it bothered Hermione to hear it. They couldn't stay there long. Already she felt the rush of adrenaline that came with instinctively knowing that her opponents were heading her way again.

"Where can we take him? He's in bad shape."

Hermione grabbed Thorfinn's hand and Disapparated the three of them away to the only place she could think of where they might all be safe.