Hermione Granger, Antonin Dolohov, Corban Yaxley
The Ship & Shovell Pub, London, September 23rd 2003
The next afternoon an unknown owl sat on the sill of Hermione's kitchen window. Dolohov was asking to meet her near the ministry in a pub in Muggle London in the evening for dinner as later on Corban Yaxley would sneak them into the Auror's training room for a talk with Alastar Moody's portrait.
Dinner was much less akward than Hermione worried about. Dolohov carried a faint whiff of Pepper-Up, Rod's guess about how the Russian would cope with their monumental news spot on, but was cleanly shaven and had obviously dressed with care. They skirted around more difficult topics, taking their time to get to know each other. The open pride the wizard showed when Hermione told him of her NEWTs and her work since warmed her heart. In the middle of a spirited discussion about which Dumbledore-instigated law was most pressing to abolish for the sake of a smoother integration of Muggleborns Dolohov startled and patted his breast pocket. Withdrawing a coin he addressed her, "Corban's ready and waiting at a back entrance."
Taking her coat Hermione enquired about the coin.
"I think he's got the idea from one of his Order contacts during the war. It is handy for short messages and it warms up if there's a new one."
"I know. I invented the communicating galleons in my fifth year at Hogwarts, using a Protean charm."
"That is impressive. Katarina had an inherent talent for charms. She invented little ones in passing, like one at our kitchen table for crumbs. On Sundays I used to Apparate to a Muggle bakery for chocolate croissants. During the third month of her pregnancy with you she ate them with pickles!"
"Did she keep a research diary?"
"Yes, of course. But the fire obliterated everything. Only the shed remained. Her finished spells were automatically recorded in the family grimoire in our vault, but you are more interested in her thought process, aren't you?"
"It seems a way to get to know her."
"The developping of charms is not my forte but I will try to remember how she came up with some of them. There we are."
A wizard smoking a cigarette stepped forward.
"Ms Granger, Toni."
"Yax, good evening."
"Mr Yaxley, thank you-" The wizard cut her off and continued in a louder voice. "Thank you for coming so promptly to the MLE, Ms Granger. We will go up in a moment to take your official complaint."
Holding the door open for her Hermione felt the image of a CCTV thrust at her mind. She played along.
"Thank you for waiting for us. I really wanted the matter off my chest."
The three took the elevator in silence and before long reached Yaxley's office. With a few slashes of his wands the man erected some highly complex wards.
"I am sorry, Ms Granger, for interrupting you, but there is a newly installed monitoring device hidden at that door. I have prepared an official complaint from you, asking for a re-opening of the case of your mother, Katarina Dolohov. If asked, that is the reason for your and Toni's presence this evening." Yaxley looked at his pocket watch.
"You have nine minutes to read through the document, then we should go to the training room. There we have around 50 minutes before the next round of patrols."
They did as told and signed the official complaint but asked Yaxley to hold it back until they had gone public with their newly discovered relationship on their own terms.
The Auror training room smelled of stale sweat and dust. Dolohov and Yaxley were disillusioned while Hermione cleared her throat in front of Moody's portrait, as the inhabitant seemed to sleep.
The wizard made a show of waking up – portraits could not really sleep – and greeted the witch.
"Miss Granger, is there a reason for a clandestine visit?"
"There is, Mr Moody. I recently found out that my name is Nadeshda Dolohov and that you might know how I ended up with the Grangers."
It was difficult to see in the dim light but Hermione thought that the old Auror had blanched. His magical eye swirled around in it's socket. She waited.
"Well, nothing to say? I guess you are intelligent enough to know that there's no excuse for what you did. Will you tell me at least what you know about my parents?"
"Marlene McKinnon got pregnant. She could not visit any healers in the magical world so she went to the Muggle one. At the gynecologist she met your mother, who just had another miscarriage. They met a few times and agreed on your parents adopting Marlene's child. As her teamleader I was informed."
"The inheritance test is foolproof and it named Katarina Dolohov as my mother."
"I'll come to that. Marlene was killed, along with her family. I had a witness that described Dolohov as one of the perpetrators. There's not many darkhaired and tall wizards with a Russian accent around. I looked up the address. `Hominium Revelio´ showed one person in the cottage. I was mad with grief about Marlene and cast Fiendfyre on the whole house. Then I heard a baby cry. The spell is not easily controlled. By the time I managed more than fifty percent of your mother's skin was burned. With her last strength she had managed to keep a bubblehead charm and a shield around you. She looked at me as I took you from her arms. If it is any consolation she died knowing that she held on long enough to save you."
Hermione had to use Occlumency to keep upright. Raising her chin she barked at the portrait, "The Grangers?"
"I started the fire again and left. Someone arrived at just that moment. I knew where the Grangers lived, having them vetted after Marlene had told me of her plan. I modified their memories, going back to the time your mother had that miscarriage. They thought you were their biological child. I went back a few hours later and spelled a potion into your mother's stomach to enable her to feed you. They are entirely blameless in this."
The witch let out the air she hadn't realised holding in. Even if they were lost to her her mother and father were the kind of persons she had known and believed in. Turning back to the man in the painting she asked, "It was Karkaroff at the McKinnons, wasn't it?"
"Presumably." The old Auror did not talk again.
"Nothing to say for yourself? Murdering a new mother, driving her husband mad with grief and right into the waiting arms of Voldmort?"
"Balderdash! I had reasons to believe that Dolohov was a Death Eater before that!"
"Which reasons? Had he been a Slytherin? Was it because he was a foreigner?"
"He ran with Snape and the Lestranges! Albus told me."
"Ah, yes, the great Albus Dumbledore and his greater good! Snape had done more to rid the world of Voldemort than anyone else and the Lestranges are long since rehabilitated! I have nothing more to say to you!"
With that she threw a hex at the portrait and left quickly. Outside the training room Dolohov and Yaxley dispelled their charms and became visible once again. The Russian was openly crying and his friend was looking grim. Hermione addressed the Scot, "Can you bring us somewhere more private?"
Around the corner from the ministry Yaxley Apparated them to his London bachelor pad. He sat them down on a settee and busied himself with the drinks. All three drank and Dolohov blew his nose.
"At least Katja knew that her baby was safe. All these years I tortured myself with her pain."
"Aye. To Katja. The bravest woman on earth." Yaxley raised his glass. Hermione paled further, a sob escaping.
"She gave her life for me! It feels horrible! Now I know how Harry felt all this time!"
The Russian had obviously no real idea how to comfort someone but he tried his best with stroking her back. The other man made an attempt to defuse the situation.
"I did not recognise that hex you threw at the portrait when leaving. What was it?"
Hermione blushed.
"You see, I could not sleep last night. And then I pictured different scenarios of how the talk could go. And tailored some hexes, from hurt to endless torture."
"But, love, portraits cannot feel more than mild annoyance, just as they cannot enjoy a glass of port."
She rolled her eyes at Dolohov.
"I know. But they experience Crucio-like pain when they are dissolved with turpentine."
"Too short for that bastard!"
"Father! Do you take me for a simpleton? I called that hex `Dolus phantomus turpentinam´."
Yaxley was quicker with the translation, maybe because Dolohov thought his charms in Russian still, not in Latin. The Scot barked a laugh.
"Phantom pain through turpentine! Lovely! I tip my hat to your vicious streak, Ms Granger."
"He feels like he's being dissolved the whole time?"
"Yes." Hermione's chin went up in challenge. Her father smiled proudly.
"It does not give Katja back the chance watching you grow up to the wonderful witch you are, but it is very fitting. Let him burn."
A week later found Yaxley, Dolohov, Luna, the Lestranges, Neville, Hannah, Harry and Ginny at the manor for the official celebration of Hermione's and Roddy's engagement. The `Quibbler´ with the revelation of Hermione's true parentage was due to go out the day after.
She chose the time after dinner, when everyone was sated and calm, to tell the whole story to her friends. Some time after the revelation of Alastor Moody as the murderer of her mother Harry's eyes narrowed while he looked at Yaxley. The Scot raised his glass with a small smirk. Hermione took this interaction as a cue that the Aurors had noticed something was off with the portrait. It was Neville who broke the ice.
"So Rod, did you already get the `If you ever hurt my daughter´ talk?"
Rabastan cackled in mirth, "That is not necessary. Toni could wipe the floor with Rod in his sleep and my brother knows this."
Rod was laughing too, "True. I for sure was one of the most ineffective Death Eaters ever. Antonin does not need to threaten me. If my lovely future wife does hold back and there is something left of me my sister-in-law will finish me off before Dolohov gets a chance."
An elf popped into the room and glared at Rabastan, "We wills short sheet your bed if you tease kindest master!"
The wizard raised his hands in a placating manner, "Sorry, Tipsy, we were just joking!"
Harry spoke up, "Hermione, do you truly want to marry into this terrifying, not-at-all -henpecked-by-their-own-elves family?"
The witch sat down again next to her fiancée, slipping her fingers through his and answered with the brightest smile, "Yes, Harry, I truly do. I could not find a better one."