December 31st

Maisie's little red face proved that she had been crying for a long time. The sight tore at Hermione's heart. Her first instinct was to reach for the terrified girl to pull her into her arms. Based on the tight grip Rodolphus kept on her tiny arm, he wasn't about to allow that sort of behavior. It always bothered him to see adults be affectionate with children. Left up to him, children would never be seen nor heard until they were adults. Even his nieces and nephews were obnoxious in his eyes.

As she stared at the little girl wiping at her eyes and sniffling, Hermione felt Oliver touch her arm. She'd almost forgotten that he was there witnessing what she was. What could he be thinking at the bombshell revelation that he had a younger sister? She turned her head to see his eyes focused on Maisie, wide and unblinking.

"Mum, is she really my..?"

"Your sister?" Rodolphus answered before Hermione could even form the words. He seemed to take great pleasure in shattering more of her son's peace. "Yes, she is. Maisie, that's Oliver. He's your older brother."

It was clear that Maisie knew just as much about her brother as he knew about her. Ginny had been keeping excellent secrets. With her eyes just as wide as her brother's identical ones, she looked up at Hermione, recognizing a familiar face.

"Like my mummy and my uncle Charlie?"

Even in the midst of an extremely tense moment, Hermione couldn't help but smile at the young girl's innocence. The expression helped to calm Maisie somewhat. When she nodded her head and assured her that Oliver was exactly like what her uncle Charlie was to her mother, the girl even returned her smile. She was so innocent, so unaware of the fact that they were all in danger.

Hermione knew that everyone had to remain calm if they were going to get out of the terrible predicament unscathed. Catching Fred's eye, she watched him point towards the front of the castle. Whether he was trying to indicate that he was going to find help or something else, she didn't know. Only when he floated away at top speed did she feel encouraged.

"Poor Oliver. Your parents both kept your little sister a secret from you. What else do you think they might have kept hidden?"

"That's enough, Rodolphus. Leave him alone."

Angry enough at the pain he was gleefully subjecting her son to, Hermione wondered if her maternal instincts had grown potent enough yet that she could rip the man apart with her bare hands before he could use his wand. The addition of a second child for her to protect made her believe she could. Rodolphus released his grip on the girl. Perhaps he could see the anger in Hermione's eyes. He knew better than most that she was a dangerous foe, wand or not. Once she was free, Maisie rushed towards her older brother. Oliver took her hand in his without hesitation.

"Rodolphus, I really don't think it's necessary to involve the children in this. Just let them go and I'll come with you."

"Mum, no!"

Rodolphus smiled the same feral grin that Hermione had seen him use just before he inflicted a great deal of pain on her. That was fine. He could hurt her all he desired as long as the children, her children, were left alone. The bastard stepped closer so their faces were only centimeters apart.

"Oh, my dear, I think we are past that point. I understand Babajide Akingbade was able to remove the block he put in your mind?"

The reminder that she was once again vulnerable to whatever treachery he wished to employ against her worried Hermione. Was he insane enough to actually go through with the ritual? She'd just assumed earlier that he'd been bluffing. But, why else would he come prepared with Maisie's innocent blood? She didn't want to consider what he would've had to do to get his hands on the little girl.

"I must confess that it was quite amusing playing these games with you over the past several weeks. You weren't even aware what was happening, were you? You wouldn't have been so compliant if you knew you were behaving just as we knew you would. Antonin too. You've always been his weakness."

"What are you saying? What sorts of 'games'?"

She knew she had to stall for as much time as possible. Fred was getting help. She just knew it. The more she could get Rodolphus to talk, the more likely he was to give any potential rescuers time to find them. As conceited and convinced of his own greatness as he was, she knew that Rodolphus would use any available opportunity to talk at great length about himself. He desperately needed the validation of others. No doubt it was rooted in some childhood trauma he could never quite get over. Maybe his cold, distant father loved his gardens too much and he was desperate to prove his greatness to the man who never had much use for his own children.

"You needed to feel both vulnerable enough that you would seek out help for the spell I placed in your mind and angry enough to make mistakes."

"You're not making any sense, Rodolphus. Kindly explain this nonsense so someone who isn't completely insane can understand."

"Well, my dear, if I did that, how would you understand?"

Hermione refused to allow him to upset her with insinuations that she was crazy. If she was, she need only blame him for everything he did to her mind. Any sane person would struggle under half the assaults he made on her head. The old Hermione would take offense, but she couldn't afford to be that selfish. Not when she had two children she was responsible for protecting.

"I needed to lure you out of hiding. Thanks to your newly discovered feelings for your husband, it wasn't too difficult to set up a trap. All I had to do was put kind, trusting Teddy Lupin under the Imperius Curse, make him convince Antonin to come to his shop late at night, and the rest was easy."

"You had Antonin attacked for me?"

"Yes. You see, you'd been doing a very good job of staying hidden or at least staying behind wards I was unable to break. Put Antonin in danger and you came running. You were supposed to be captured in my nephew's flat." He rolled his eyes, evidently still angered by the failure. "But clearly that didn't work. Pity too. I was going to kill Antonin when you were caught. I've been wanting to do that for decades."

"Because he dared to call out your dear wife for being a wretched cunt?"

Rodolphus' closed fist slammed into her jaw. No longer bothering to simply slap her when she said something that displeased him, the blow to her face was a painful reminder that he held the power. Furious that the wizard dared to strike his mother, Oliver acted as is he was going to go after the monster. Hermione begged him to stop and think of his little sister as she pushed him back firmly, but gently. There was a great deal of passion in her son, just like his father. It could either help him or be his downfall. Understanding that he wouldn't have a chance against the wizard, Oliver backed down.

"You will hold your tongue when it comes to my wife or the next one I hurt is your son. Is that understood?"

She nodded her head, furious that he would dare to threaten Oliver. As much as she appreciated having her son with her so she didn't feel quite so alone, part of Hermione wished he'd just stayed in bed. He was in immense danger that she wasn't sure she knew how to get them out of. Eventually, a person's past and mistakes caught up with them, preventing an escape. She felt less and less optimistic about getting out of the predicament they were in unscathed. Maybe if she just kept him talking…

"Well, I'm very sorry that I ruined your plans to murder my husband. That must've been quite the disappointment."

"Yes, it was, but no matter. Antonin's time is running out. I will make sure that he's dead soon enough. I'm certain that Bellatrix will enjoy helping."

His smile was so unsettling she worried she would be sick. Hermione wanted to shield her children from the dangerous man. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, even if it left a trail of dead bodies behind him. Life never meant much to the arsehole. Truthfully, it hadn't meant much to Hermione either for a very long time. When it seemed she might be nearing the end of hers, it suddenly seemed much more valuable and important. Pity that she'd always taken it for granted.

"It was cruel of you to involve Lizzie in your plans. Children have no business being subjected to the violence of adults."

"But, I've seen you murder your own fair share of children, my dear."

Hermione loathed that her son was hearing every single word. While she knew full well that Oliver wasn't ignorant of the kinds of people his parents were, it was much different to suspect and hear the truth spoken aloud. Would she ever had the chance to explain it all to her son? Or were they past the point it was even a possibility?

"But, no matter. That's all in the past now. Lizzie served her purpose. As did Tiberius Zeller and so did Draco."

"Draco?"

"Yes, my nephew has been very helpful. First, telling me about Lizzie, of course, but also suggesting the cellar of his family's manor to imprison you."

Hermione knew that Draco wasn't an ally, but a small part of her continued to hold out hope that she might've been wrong about him. Antonin seemed assured that at least for a little while he'd been on their side. Rodolphus believed the same. Who was correct? She decided that much like Kingsley Shacklebolt, Draco was only doing what he thought was best for himself. He fought for only one man.

"I confess that I never would've considered that keeping you hostage would be just the push Antonin needed to make sure Babajide Akingbade returned to the country. I needed him to remove that block in your mind. It was so thorough that not even his death would've broken it. Maybe the old fool realized he would be so easily defeated if his death broke the block."

"Draco was the one that suggested you kidnap me?"

"Yes, he did. Clever man. He was also the one who knew just the perfect time to release you too. You didn't actually believe I would be careless enough to drink wine spiked with a sleeping potion, did you?"

The world spun around Hermione with each revelation. Every single day since the first of January, possibly even longer, Draco had been actively working against her. How could she not have realized? Why had she been so desperate to believe that he was a good man who cared about what happened to her? She had been such a fool!

"You see, my dear, every single step of the way you did exactly what we wanted you to do. I'll admit that I didn't believe Draco at first was capable, but he's turned out to be the master manipulator, hasn't he?"

Once Rodolphus allowed himself several long moments to laugh and gloat in her face, he grew serious again. He pointed his wand directly at Oliver.

"Now, I think I have been patient long enough. Let's move to the Great Hall or I might have to teach your son all about the effectiveness of the Cruciatus Curse."

It was Hermione's fervent hope that her son never be subjected to the cruel torture curse at any point in his life. There had already been enough pain in his twelve and a half years. Hermione took a hand of each child in hers and began the long walk to her fate. Rodolphus was never far behind ready to curse if they were too slow.

Halfway to their destination, Oliver looked towards his mother with a serious expression on his face that made him look so much like Antonin she almost forgot how to breathe. Where was their husband and father in that moment? Did he even know that his entire family was in serious peril? Rodolphus would've crowed with delight if Antonin hadn't survived the attack on the Hogsmeade Caves so she had no doubt he was still alive. Wherever he was, she knew he must've been frightened out of his mind. Lowering his voice so only she could hear him, Oliver wanted to make sure he didn't miss an opportunity to set the record straight.

"Mum, what he said about Emmy and me in the classroom… it wasn't as bad as he made it sound."

Though hardly the time for laughter, Hermione had to bite back a smile. Was that what had him so upset? She hoped so. If he could focus on something else other than what Rodolphus had planned to do, maybe he wouldn't be so scared. She never wanted him to be afraid.

"Ollie, darling, I don't want any details of what you two did when you were alone."

"I love her."

She didn't fight her smile that time. He was still so very innocent despite the world he'd been born into. If there was a way to keep him that way forever, she would've tried. Had she ever been that young? It was impossible to remember.

"I know you care very much for her, but you really must be careful. Always be respectful of her. Thorfinn might love you, but he loves his daughter much more. I've seen him break every bone in a bad man's body with just his hands."

Oliver's wide eyes and deep gulp were too much for Hermione to keep her laughter in check. Forgetting for the briefest of moments where they were and why they were there, she stopped to kiss her son's cheek. The feel of hands roughly pushing her forward broke the spell of the private moment she'd been having. Rodolphus was not a patient man any longer.

Once inside the Great Hall Hermione's fear increased tenfold. How were they going to get out of the mess they were in? It surprised her not to come into contact with anyone else in the castle. Where were all of his allies that helped attack the Hogsmeade Caves? She wished she knew who they had been too. Babajide Akingbade was dead because of them and she feared Alexandre as well. Had there been any other casualties? She hoped not. Everyone had already suffered enough.

For the rest of her life, she would be unable to stand in the same place where Bellatrix fell from a curse sent straight to her chest by Molly Weasley without thinking about the moments leading up to it. Hermione tried to duel the crazy woman with Luna's and Ginny's help, but they were outmatched, untested, still unwilling to use the truly terrible spells that Bellatrix used. If it hadn't been for Molly, they might all have died instead. She would be forever grateful for the matriarch of the Weasley family for giving her a chance at life.

"I'm going to like spilling even more Weasley blood here tonight. The dragon keeper put up quite an admirable fight to protect his niece. I almost felt badly killing him."

Maisie's sniffles tore once again at Hermione's heart. It made her angry that the poor child had to witness her uncle's murder. She must have been so scared. Poor Charlie. She wouldn't allow herself to feel sadness about his death yet. There would be plenty of time for that after. Giving Maisie's hand a reassuring squeeze before she dropped it, Hermione tried to get Rodolphus to step away from the children to talk to him privately. He wouldn't budge. What did it matter to him that the children were afraid? One of them he'd already admitted to kidnapping to use her precious blood and the other had been a constant source of annoyance for him since his birth. She had no doubt that Rodolphus would hurt Oliver too.

There was no need to even try to get Rodolphus alone for a quiet conference. Before Hermione could utter a single word, the heavy door to the anteroom off of the Great Hall behind the Head table opened. Expecting to see Temeritus Mulciber, she was shocked to see a smirking Draco enter the room alone. Somehow she didn't get the impression he was there to save them.

Worried about what was going to happen next, she caught Oliver's eyes. Staring intensely in them for a few seconds to make certain he was paying attention, she looked down at Maisie and back into her son's eyes. There was a wealth of communication in the silent gesture. Thankfully Oliver understood exactly what his mother was telling him. He took his little sister by the hand and gently pushed her behind his back. Maisie didn't argue. When Oliver released her hand, she grabbed tightly onto his pajamas with both of her tiny fists.

Draco's amused laughter sent a chill up Hermione's spine. What was he doing there? Because of all of his deceptions and manipulative games, she didn't know if he was there to stop Rodolphus or help him. It could be either. She had no idea.

"Excellent. Looks like we're all here. Evening, Rodolphus. Good evening, Hermione."

She didn't even know where to begin. As much as she desired answers from the wizard that had repeatedly convinced her they were friends, mostly she just wanted to paint the room with his blood. If he was instrumental in all of the planning as Rodolphus claimed he was, that meant he knew exactly what was about to be done and who was going to be hurt. Rodolphus' insanity was at least a somewhat acceptable excuse for his reprehensible behavior. But what about Draco? What did he have to gain?

"What are you doing here, Draco? Why are you helping your uncle?"

"It's very simple, Hermione. Since the end of the war, my family has had very few allies. No allies really, except for Rodolphus. He's the only one who has never been afraid to be seen with us in public, to let it be known that he wasn't ashamed of the Malfoy family. Perhaps honor doesn't mean as much to Mudbloods, but it does to proper wizards and witches."

Hermione had been called a Mudblood so many times since she was twelve years old that the word had no meaning any longer. Especially as a member of the Inner Circle of the Death Eaters where she was constantly being forced to prove herself worthy of being magical, she heard the term muttered behind her back and even slung in her face. Of course, once she married Antonin there was a noticeable lessening of the verbal attacks where either of the Dolohovs could hear them. Except she hadn't heard Draco call her that word since they were in school together. After so many intimate moments shared over the last year, it felt like a slap in the face. Maybe it was the setting, but it felt like they were back in school all over again. The hot tears filled her eyes even as she swore to herself she would not allow them to roll down her cheeks. She refused to let the manipulative arsehole see how he affected her again.

"I have been planning my revenge on my family's enemies for years. Just biding my time, waiting for the perfect opportunities to present themselves. Thanks to the Dark Lord's death, it got a little easier. I wasn't being watched as much. Fewer people were around who thought that I couldn't be trusted just because my last name was Malfoy. You and your husband were both too consumed with your own problems to even realize what I was doing."

"When were we your enemies, Draco? You and I hardly spoke for twenty years. Antonin tried to avoid your family whenever possible."

He scoffed, clearly finding something in her answer that amused him. She worried that much like his uncle, and indeed much like most of the former Death Eaters still alive after all that time, that he was going insane. Or he'd been there a while. Several times throughout the past year she noticed little breaks in his calm, collected façade when a deranged stranger would come peeking out. Draco was only just able to hold himself together. The man was unraveling at the seams.

"Maybe if an influential and powerful couple like the Dolohovs hadn't scorned my family, we might have been more accepted. Being ignored was humiliating. You could've done something about it."

"I didn't want to do anything about it. I never forgot as your entire family stood by and watched as his lunatic wife tortured me when I was hardly more than a child."

The feel of the back of Rodolphus' hand slapping against the jaw that was still sore from his earlier punch made her cry out in pain. She'd been lucky that he hadn't broken any teeth with the first blow, but already she knew there was a bruise forming. Afraid that Oliver would try something in defense of his mother again, she turned her attention to where the two children were standing. He hadn't moved. For the briefest of moments, she was relieved.

"You also seemed to find it amusing to publicly humiliate my father. Many times you would rudely dismiss him in front of others despite him being your superior in every single way that matters."

"Yes, all right? I did enjoy being rude to your father. He's nothing but an embarrassing drunk. If you want to be angry at someone for bringing shame to your family, look no further than Lucius."

She couldn't believe the bizarre conversation she was having. Being trapped in her broom cupboard living inside a fantasy world constructed entirely in her mind sounded more pleasant than the night she was having. Tempted to pinch herself just to see if she could wake up from what was turning out to be the most unbelievable nightmare, she was scared to learn the truth. Why was Draco there really? She wished desperately that she had her wand in her hands.

"I'm planning on taking my revenge against every person who disrespected my family."

"Then you are sure to be busy for a lifetime. Your family had a lot of enemies."

"Yes, I know and you have been very helpful in killing a number of them for me. Thank you."

It sickened Hermione to know that her son was listening to their exchange. He didn't need to know about his mother's violent activities. She hoped that she would never have to kill another person as long as she lived. Murder took a toll on a person. There was too high a price to continue to pay.

"So that's all this was? This friendship of ours? Another manipulation."

"Well, no, not all. You also made for a pleasant distraction. And besides, it always made me laugh to fuck you and think how angry Antonin would be when he found out."

She could feel her cheeks burning. No doubt they were flushed a bright red. It was embarrassing to hear his confession to begin with but infinitely worse in front of Oliver. Would his last memories of his mother be a reminder that she was a whore like so many accused her of being? She hoped not, but it was too late to change it.

Rodolphus was growing impatient. Evidently waiting twenty years for the return of his wife to the land of the living had been long enough. Ignoring that they were still talking, he stepped closer to them to get Draco's attention.

"I've been very patient, Draco. I want what's mine."

"Not to worry, Uncle, I just want to tie up one loose end before you cast your spell to bring my aunt back."

Draco pointed his wand at Oliver. Hermione gasped, terrified of what was going to happen next. Was her son his 'loose end'? She could feel the ire inside her rising to the surface. There was simply no way she was just going to let that manipulative arsehole harm her son in front of her eyes.

"I want you and Antonin to lose everything you love just like my family did."

A lost reputation was hardly comparable to the loss of an innocent child's life, but there was no time to argue. The wizard was determined.

"Avada kedavra!"

Without any hesitation, Hermione stepped in front of her son, blocking the spell from hitting its intended target.