A/n: Hello beautiful readers, thank you soooooo much for all the love for this fic! It truly warms my heart. Life is still a bit crazy, but it might be evening out soon.
If Antonin seems familiar to you, it's because I'm borrowing him from canimal. If you're itching for more of him, please go read The Dark Mage's Captive for some serious Antonin love.
Huge beta love to kanewolfe and gidgetmalfoy for their constant support, love and editing magic.
I do not own Harry Potter, if I did Dramione would have been a thing.
Remember your reviews are the currency that power and pay for this work that I love to provide for you, so I just ask that you offer me a little token of love. If you're worried about saying something dumb, nothing is dumb, except rude comments.
Harry, Hermione, and Antonin landed in the soft grass in front of Doyden Castle, Antonin's home for the time being. Antonin was coughing again, his energy waning, he began to fall. Hermione and Harry each hooked an arm around his sides and heaved him into the house.
They laid him gently onto the sofa just inside the door, where his hacking continued. Hermione went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water.
"Harry, he needs to have a mediwitch come out," Hermione said, as she held the glass to help Antonin drink.
"We have to restrict access to this house, you know that. If you're ok with it, I can have Hannah come out?" Harry wrung his hands, uncomfortable involving his wife. His wife was as kind as they came, but she was fiercely loyal and protective and this would certainly challenge her.
"Ok, grab me a scroll." Hermione set the glass down on the floor, as Antonin struggled to breathe. Harry fell into the old habit of going to her small beaded bag, waving his wand, he summoned a scroll and quill for his friend.
Hermione quickly penned the address for Harry, and watched him leave. She sat back on the floor, looking over the wizard before her, stunned. Before getting him from the prison, her mind hadn't been imagining how different he would look, but she wasn't sure why that mattered to her.
He was sick, incredibly ill, and she couldn't just sit by and let the man suffer. No matter what he had done in the past, no one deserved this. She was watched him for a few minutes when his slowly eyes opened and looked at her.
"You're so beautiful, Solnyshko," Antonin's voice was low as the words fell from his lips.
Hermione's eyes widened and she was couldn't stop herself from blushing deeply. Her body heated up, mimicking his own fever, as she lowered her eyes away from him.
"You're sick Dolohov. You don't know what you're saying," Hermione murmured, when she finally looked back at him.
He chuckled once before his cough overtook his body once again. Grabbing the glass, Hermione offered it to the wizard. He didn't take it from her, but nodding instead when his coughs had subsided, and she helped him take large mouthfuls.
A few minutes passed in silence, while he struggled to not cough and take deep oxygenating breathes. When the door opened and Harry and Hannah Potter nee Abbott walked back in, the blonde's eyes immediately narrowed at the wizard on the couch. Zeroing in on her best friend, "Uh, why is Antonin Dolohov out of prison and laying on a couch?"
Hermione glanced at Harry who lowered his gaze and suddenly found his shoes very interesting. "I'm assuming then, that Harry did not tell you about Dolohov before he brought you here." The blonde witch nodded curtly and grabbed a chair from the dining table, crossing her arms, she sat down and waited. Hermione sighed, knowing the story would sway the tender Hufflepuff no matter how stubborn she appeared now. "Dolohov was forced into a blood oath when he was fourteen by his father. He was forced to serve Voldemort." Hermione paused when an angry hiss came from the wizard on the couch, rolling her eyes she continued. "This evidence only just came to light. So it was the decision of Harry, the Minister, and myself that he should be released on time served, and not have to serve anymore time for crimes he had committed under force."
"This man has committed murder. As well as an unknown amount of other dark deeds we will never know about," Hannah said, her gaze flicking over to Antonin.
"I understand everything you're saying, he tried to murder me. But this is what's happening, and if you don't help him get better, he'll die." Hermione kept her voice calm, even while her hands shook.
She knew it wouldn't be easy for everyone to understand releasing Dolohov, and keeping it from the public wasn't going to stop the inevitable outcry that was coming. Hannah's reaction was just the first of many, and Hermione knew that her reaction would be mild in comparison to the public's. Between the three of them, she felt confident that they would navigate the public's opinions, but first they needed to get the wizard well.
Hannah sighed from the chair as she glanced between Harry and Hermione. "What happens if you ignore a blood oath?"
Hermione had the words on the tip of her tongue, but Antonin coughed, attempting to clear his throat and look at Hannah. "You can die, because the blood oath ties itself to your life source, so everytime you cast a spell it drains you of your magic," he offered. "If the magic doesn't backfire and kill you, you'll eventually end up losing your magic altogether."
Hannah's eyes widened, she looked to Hermione who nodded in confirmation.
The small cottage was quiet, everyone clearly lost in their own thoughts, before Hannah stood up again, and rubbed her hands on her pants. "Alright Mr. Dolohov, I'll treat you. But if you ever do anything to hurt anyone again, I'll make sure your favorite appendage falls off."
Antonin chuckled which led to another coughing fit. Hermione stood and moved to sit in the armed chair in front of the couch as Hannah kneeled on the floor beside him.
Hermione opened her bag, reaching deep inside, she did not notice the curious glance from the wizard on the couch as her elbow disappeared, she extracted a slim purple box. Setting it on the table, she reached inside once more and pulled out a small cardboard box, the size of a baseball, and set it next to the other.
"I think we're just waiting on Kings, he the trackers," Harry said as he watched his friend.
Hermione nodded and continued to watch as Hannah performed diagnostic spells over the wizard, muttering to herself.
"Seems his pneumonia has led to a case of mild bronchitis, which is why his cough is so bad. He's also got a high fever and a rapid pulse. All of these things will go away once we begin treating his pneumonia and bronchitis, but the fever medicine will make him barmy, fair warning. Do you want me to give it to him now?" Hannah asked as she dug through her own bag to extract vials of medicine.
"Can he wait a little bit till Kings gets here? That way we can tell him the terms of release, the Minister wanted to be present." Hermione noted the way detached Hannah had referred to Antonin as though he wasn't there. She looked at him, and he didn't seem to mind as his eyes were still fixed on her. Hermione dropped her gaze from the sick wizard and looked towards Harry who nodded.
"Yeah, but he'll probably be a bit touched for a few days as the potion works the fever from his system." Hannah set some potion vials on the table, all differing colors, and pulled a scroll from her bag. "I'll leave clear instructions on when to administer the potions, but if you have any issues just owl me."
"Thanks so much, Hannah." Hermione smiled at the blonde who gave a small smile in return.
"Thank you," Antonin's low voice growled from the couch.
Hannah nodded, but offered no other acknowledgement. Hermione was surprised by her behavior. She was accustomed to Hannah's normally happy kindness, especially when treating patients, so she. She sighed, knowing this was just a taste of what was to soon be directed at Antonin Dolohov. While she wouldn't feel the effects herself, she couldn't help but feel pity for the man.
A soft knock came from the front door before it was opened and Kingsley walked into the room. Everyone in the room could almost feel the righteous anger rolling off him in waves. Before he stopped and looked at the cottage, his eyes curious, he shook his head and he seated himself at the dining table.
"I swear to Merlin, that man is a doxie breath away from losing his job. I knew that he had little care for the prisoners, but to leave them in such conditions with no treatment and in the filth that I saw. I've ordered an inquiry, but he might have the place cleaned up before they can get there," Kingsley groaned, clearly overwhelmed. And while Hermione knew that he held no love for the prisoners inside of Azkaban, having put many of them in there himself, he would not stand for mistreatment of any person. He put on a different face for the public, but, truly, Kingsley loved all living creatures about as much as Hermione did. "Let's be quick about this business so I can go file the necessary paperwork to get that place inspected."
"I need the rings," Hermione stood and crossed to the dining table, while Kingsley fished out a small velvet black box. "Would you like to do the honors Kingsley?"
Kingsley nodded and stood, Harry and Hermione did as well. Antonin must have sensed the importance of the moment, and struggled to sit himself up.
"Antonin Dolohov, you have been given early release from Azkaban prison for crimes committed while acting as Death Eater for Lord Voldemort," an audible hiss escaped Antonin, which was ignored, "because of evidence presented to the Ministry of a blood oath performed by you and your father, a Vadim Dolohov. The ritual forced you to assume the role of Death Eater, is that correct?" Antonin nodded, his jaw and fists clenched. "The terms of your release are as follows: you will be under probation for the first year of your release. As such you will use only the wand we provide, which is monitored, by Miss Granger, for any Dark activities. You will wear the ring provided by the Ministry which will act as tracker for Miss Granger, allowing her to find you easily. It will also let her know if you are in any danger. You are asked to remain around this property unless you have express permission to travel from Miss Granger. After a term of six months is complete you will be given the opportunity to find employment. After the year is up, you will be free to buy a new wand, and return the tracking ring to Miss Granger. Do you agree to these terms?"
"I do," Antonin's answer was short, and his deep voice gave way to a loud series of coughs.
Hermione reached for the slim purple box, and while she couldn't explain it, felt a great sense of titillation in handing Antonin a new wand. This was normally a very private experience between the wandmaker, the new wand owner, and maybe some close family. But here she stood, the one handing over the new wand. She hoped, secretly, that it would be a good match for him. She had a little experience in using a wand that didn't fit well, and it felt like having a new hand.
Antonin's eyebrows shot up as his hand closed around the box. He opened the lid and tried to fight the tidal wave of emotion building up inside of him. He paused before finally closing his hand around the wand. As his palm made contact with the Aspen wood, a warmth seemed to radiate from his hand through his chest, very unlike the fever in his body. He felt whole again. The corners of his mouth quirked up and he raised his chestnut eyes to Hermione's who watched him curiously.
Hermione broke eye contact with Antonin quickly and opened the box with the two silver rings inside. She tried to control her shaking hands as she handed the box to the brunette wizard, slipping the silver band on her right ring finger.
Antonin smirked at her, taking the box and placing his ring on his left ring finger. "Next time we exchange rings, Pchelka, it will be under much different circumstances."
Hermione swallowed, her face reddened as she looked away from him. With her eyes on the ground, she missed the smirk from Hannah, the wide eyes that Harry set on her, and the narrowed gaze of the Minister as she cleared her throat. "Yes well, Mr. Dolohov, we've altered the wards to this place making me secret keeper. It is unplottable, and only the people in this room know it's location. So until the Ministry releases the news about your release, we ask that you please stay here. We are unsure about how the public will react."
Taking a deep breath, she continued, "We also ask that you refrain from contacting anyone that has any connections to the Dark Arts. While we are not monitoring your communication, we hope that you see this as a second chance."
Antonin fixed her with a hard look, "I have no desire to converse with anyone I was ever once associated with. This is a fresh start, as some would call it, and I'm taking it, however undeserving I maybe."
The cottage was quiet for a few beats before Kingsley clasped his hands together, "I need to get back. Hermione let me know if there are any issues. Dolohov, if you make this hard on her you'll be assigned to me personally, and that will not be enjoyable." Kingsley stated, his voice hard, as he narrowed his gaze at Antonin.
Antonin nodded, and Hannah moved back towards him to start administering doses of medicine.
"I'm going to head into town and get you some food. Do you have anything you want? Hannah, does he need anything?" Hermione doned her outer robes, and picked up her beaded bag.
"Pchelka, I've lived off stale bread and cheese for six years. I'll eat anything," he smiled at her, and Hermione was struck by how beautiful he was when he smiled. She shook her head, banishing the thought.
"He needs soups and tea for his throat. Protein and fatty foods would be best to put some weight back on him," the blonde replied clinically as she assessed her patient.
Hermione followed after Kingsley who hugged her tightly once out of the cottage. "Owl me if he gives you any problems."
She nodded and set off towards the village as a pop filled the air around her. The small muggle village was a thirty minute walk, she was thankful for the opportunity to clear her head and get away from the confusing situation she found herself in.
She hadn't been prepared to deal with the human aspect of Antonin Dolohov. In her nightmares he was this brutish figure who tried to murder her. Now she was faced with a man, a man who was very ill and needed to be taken care of. It wasn't as if there were a plethora of people who could or would sign up to help him, so it would fall to her. Was she ready for that?
Hermione pulled her robes tighter around her despite the fact that the weather was warm for the early September day. It seems that the close proximity to someone who had tried to kill her and her brief visit to Azkaban seemed to have chilled her blood, and the sea winds blowing on her weren't helping.
She had heard many stories over the years about the darkness of Azkaban, but somehow she had thought it would have improved once the dementors were banished. She sighed heavily and realized it was a foolish notion to ever believe the prison on the North Sea would ever be anything pleasant. She seethed at the idea that any person should be mistreated, no matter what they had done. They had already lost their freedom, they shouldn't have to suffer sickness and hunger as well.
Shaking her head, she focused her thoughts more on how she was going to help this man regain his freedom, and the sooner the better. She wasn't keen to spend more time attending to him then was absolutely necessary. He unsettled her, and it would not do for Hermione to lose any of the control over her nightmares that she had gained in the last few years.
Hermione smiled as she passed villagers while making her way towards the greengrocers. After perusing all the aisles, she felt she had bought the store finding snacks, soups, tea and lots of easy dinners for the man who struggled to stand on his own. She had made it halfway through the store before it occurred to her that she would have to cook some of this for him, and leave it ready to heat up again.
She made it back to the cottage with all of the bags conveniently shrunk into one larger bag that she had reinforced with a handy charm. Opening the door, she took in the immediate difference in the room, a noticeable warmth it hadn't had before.
"Pchelka, you're back," Antonin exclaimed, when she shut the door greeting her with a large dopey smile.
Hannah smirked from the chair in front of the couch, "It's the drugs. I meant it when I said he'll be barmy for a few minutes while we get his system up and running again."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Just what I need an ex-death eater, who once tried to kill me, around the bend."
"Pchelka, did you know that's Harry bloody Potter?" Antonin asked, his voice full of shock and his eyebrows raised high.
Harry and Hannah both chuckled as Hermione set about unloading the shopping. "Anyone want tea?"
"I need to get back to St. Mungo's, thank you though," Hannah said, standing and moving towards the door.
"Thank you so much, Hannah," Hermione said as the two hugged.
"We'll see you Sunday for tea?" Hannah asked, smiling when Hermione nodded.
"I'll be leaving soon too, 'Mione. I need to get back to the Ministry," Harry said, and he too hugged Hermione, before the couple took their leave.
Hermione readied the kettle and set it on the hob before she turned to the wizard watching her from the couch. Sighing, she figured it was time to get to know him at least a little, "Mr. Dolohov, how do you take your tea?"
"One sugar, heavily steeped. You can call me Antonin, if you're more comfortable with that," he sighed, the medicine had finally worn off. He wasn't in a rush to take that pale green potion again. Honestly, he would prefer to suffer the fever then lose his tongue in her presence.
Hermione sat in the same red chair that she had before, "Mr. Dolohov feels more comfortable to me at the moment, if it's ok with you."
Antonin nodded, the weight of the room finally settled around him. Of course she wouldn't feel comfortable around him, her only experience with him was centered around a memory of him trying to incapacitate her.
Hermione sighed, leaning back, "Mr. Dolohov, these are extreme circumstances we find ourselves in that neither one of us would have ever even dreamt of. So, I will try to go forward from here, if you can as well." She attempted to give a professional air, wanting to maintain the lines of a business relationship. As it was presently, the memories of their interactions weighed on the two of them.
Antonin held his tongue, in his experience words meant little compared to the actions of an individual. He would show her that he was changed, and that he was determined to make in his life. He would not squander this opportunity.
His thoughts were interrupted by the tea kettle. Hermione took it off the hob and made them both tea to their desired standards. She carried his tea to him and sat back in the chair. "I'm going to make a few soups while I'm here, that you can reheat, but I'll be back tomorrow to check on your condition and see if you need anything else."
Antonin took a deep breath before he replied, "Thank you for your kindness, it is not deserved, but no less appreciated."
Hermione blushed at the rather warm sentiment. The situation was odd, certainly, but everyone deserved to be taken care of on some level. They continued to drink their tea in silence, and when she had drained the last of it, she stood to begin work in the kitchen.
As she began to peel the potatoes, she suddenly cried out, "I almost forgot!" She waved her wand over the small cardboard box on the dining table, which immediately grew in size. "I was able to get a box of some of your possessions from your residence before you were arrested-." Hermione's words cut off, as her cheeks reddened, never before in her life has she uttered a more absurd sentence.
Shaking her head, she lifted the box and went to place it next to Antonin on the couch, before going back to the potatoes.
Over the next 30 minutes Hermione worked in silence, preparing soups for the wizard that uttered shocked exclamations every few minutes when he found another treasure he was sure he would never see again.
When the soups were finished and placed under stasis charms, Hermione turned back to the wizard who grinned broadly at her. "Thank you so much, Miss Granger," his voice shook with unshed emotion.
"Well they're your things," Hermione replied quietly. "I'll be off. If you need me for anything, just tap your wand to the ring and it'll alert me. I'll be back tomorrow around mid-morning."
Antonin nodded, and watched her as she donned her outer robes and set off through the door. He waited for the quiet pop before he let out the breath he was holding.
"Bloody hell," he exclaimed, his voice cutting the quiet air. He shook his head, chastising his thoughts of the day. He had never dreamed when the guard told him that he was leaving Azkaban that it would put him in direct contact with Hermione Granger for the next year. The girl, now woman, had haunted his nightmares for over eight years, since that night in the Ministry.
Sighing heavily he banished the thoughts from his mind. He refused to go back to that night while awake, it was already unavoidable when he slept. He stood, gathering his weight on his weak limbs, and hobbled over to the hob to pour a bowl of soup that she had made.
It had been six years since he'd eaten anything warm, and just the touch to his hands was enough to warm his whole body. As he ate, he allowed himself to dream of things that he had long given up on. He was now in a world where, for the first time since he was fourteen, his life was not controlled by a blood oath. He was now free to chart his own destiny.
Antonin's true passion had always been charm work. He was wicked quick in mastering them and even better at the creation of spells. It had only taken six months for the Dark Lord to figure that out, and suddenly he was in a highly sought after and coveted position. It allowed him to move quickly in the ranks of Death Eaters, which gave him greater freedom to choose what unsavory tasks he would do.
Now his spell work could be useful, instead of forced on people. What spells would he allow himself to dream? What life did he have before him? As he finished his bowl of soup, he pondered his future. Once he finished, he made his way upstairs, ignoring the rooms until he found his way to the bathroom. For the first time since he was a child, he delighted in the sight of a tub. It had been so long since he had been cleaned by anything other than a cold hose of water against his skin. So tonight he would soak, a long soak to warm his bones. Though he chuckled that first he should shower off the dirt and grime before he soaked, lest the water turn as black as his soul.
As Hermione shut the door to her small flat, she let out a deep sigh, feeling like she could finally take a breath. The day had not been kind to her. Between the trip to Azkaban, the proximity of her nightmare, and having to wrestle with the reality that was Antonin Dolohov, a broken, sick man, she was spent.
She heaved herself towards her bathroom, stripping as she went. She would scrub her skin raw in the bath tonight to, hopefully, clean off the disgusting feeling that had attached itself to her since Azkaban. And try as she might, to focus on anything else, her thoughts found their way beack to a wizard across the country enjoying his own bath.
To be continued...
Pchelka - little bee (Think like 'honey')
Solnyshko - small sun ("You're my sunshine.")