Hermione Granger and Rodolphus Lestrange
September 13th 2003, The Spaniards Inn, Hampstead, London
Hermione was nursing a cider while waiting for her intended. They had agreed to meet for an early dinner here, followed by a walk on Hampstead Heath. So far no journalist had gotten his or her fingers on their ministry match but both felt better meeting in the Muggle world. The witch had left work a bit earlier than usual, having finished her workload. She wanted to have her head free from work-related topics and problems to be able to concentrate fully on her date. Lestrange entered the pub five minutes before their agreed time. Again he blended in with the Muggles around him. And he drew some looks from the women in the pub. Hermione had to concede that he was good looking, not in a flashy way, but with that kind of looks which only improved with age. She basked a little bit in the envy she felt from the other female customers when he sat down at her table with a smile but then turned her attention to the bookbag he was carrying.
"The books are charmed to look ordinary. I planned to show them to you once we were somewhere secluded in the park. They are my favourites."
"Oh, that is a nice thought, I could bring mine the next time!"
Over a light dinner they chatted a bit about their work – Rodolphus was trying to find a reliable manager for a wool-mill and a saw-mill while renovating some buildings the Lestranges owned in Diagon Alley as well as Knockturn Alley. Hermione told him about her growing list of what she called `Dumbledore-laws´ and picked his brain about them. Both had an espresso and Lestrange bought a bottle of a light, chilled white wine to take away with them.
The weather was balmy and soon they were ensconed behind some bushes on a Transfigured blanket, a Muggle repelling spell in place. Hermione's heart beat a little bit faster when the first book Rodolphus showed to her was `Hogwarts A History´. They compared their different approach to the book. For the Muggleborn witch it was like a key opening a door to so many aspects of the wizarding world, for the Pure-blood heir it was a refuge from the expectations of his family, especially his father. For ten months a year he could mostly be just another pupil, another boy.
Rodolphus had two shrunk goblets in his pockets which led to Hermione telling him about the plot of `Sabrina´ and the dangers of carrying glasses in pockets. For their next date they agreed that she would cook and then put on a video of the film.
The wine was at a perfect temperature and they shared the bottle while taking turns to read their favourites from another book in the bag aloud. It was a well-thumbed Muggle paperback collection of poems, from Shakespeare to Dylan Thomas.
After a rather lenghty ballad by Sir Walter Scott Hermione noticed that her date had fallen asleep. She was more amused than annoyed and, as she felt drowsy as well after the meal and two glasses of wine, set a ward and closed her eyes, too.
Something woke her up. The sun had already set. Hermione could see Rodolphus' silhuette but not the expression on his face. He was sitting and his breaths were coming in short gasps. Carefully she extended her hand to his underarm.
"Are you all right?"
The man drew his hands over his face a few times as if to get rid of some thoughts or sights.
"I do not quite know. Hermione, how can we work out if this is our history?" His voice had a slightly hysterical tinge and he used one hand to turn her underarm into the sparse light. Her glamour, instinctively applied every morning, had fallen during her nap and the scar depicting `MUDBLOOD´ in Bellatrix's crude slashes was clearly visible. Hermione kept her hand on Rod's arm, slowly drawing her thumb over his skin in what she hoped a calming manner.
"You are in no way responsible for Bellatrix' actions. I only glamour the scar because of the Muggles, its meaning would be difficult to explain. I am afraid of misunderstandings because I still know so little about traditions and ways in the wizarding world and I am unsure if I can be the wife you need but I do not worry about us due to having been on opposing sides in a conflict."
Rodolphus startled at her speech, "Why would you worry about traditions? Why do you think you can't be the wife I need? You are brilliant and dedicated, you are pragmatic and you are kind, I could not wish for a better woman!"
Still not letting go of his arm Hermione scooted closer, "I am rather akward socially, I often miss clues from other people. And I expect clues from you to be rather subtle, I think you've been raised to hide your feelings. If I am immersed in a project at work I often ignore, neglect even, my friends and family. They know this and have learned to deal with it but with a husband or even children it is different. I will hurt you."
"As will I! But my brother assures me that loving someone is worth this vulnerability! If we feel that you are starting to neglect us I will colour the dining room table orange. The portraits will curse me and the elves will wail but you will notice." On a more sombre note he continued, "Hermione, you are worrying about being a good enough wife for me. As ridiculous that is it is so much more consideration than anyone safe Rab and Luna ever spent on me."
She drew her arms tighter around him and tucked her head under his chin before continuing.
"I once consulted a Muggle cosmetic surgeon about the Mudblood-scar. They have laser treatment that should at least reduce it greatly. I didn't do it then because I have been toying with another idea – getting a tattoo. I like the idea of tattooing something I cherish out of the scar, it is like getting one over Bellatrix and Voldemort and every blood-purist under the sun."
Stroking her back Rodolophus answered, "You're getting one over them without trying just by being who you are. If you go with the tattoo idea I will join you. Antonin has done some icons over his Dark Mark."
Hermione leaned back to look her intended in the eyes, "Antonin like in Antonin Dolohov?"
"Mhm. He got paroled two years ago and now works for Gringotts as a wardsmith again. He was the one who told me about the dragon."
"I got hit by Dolohov with a curse after my fifth year at Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey told me that I only survived because he was silenced when he cast it."
"The Knuht Kostyuhr? Purple?"
"I think so. They told me it was some sort of signature spell of his. After the war the aurors brought me a letter from Dolohov. He apologised for hurting me. I do not know whether my answer ever reached him in Azkaban but when I thought about the timing – that battle happened about ten days after Voldmort broke you out of Azkaban I believed his justification that he was running on adrenaline and instinct, that he would not have cast anything beyond Stunners on children."
"He would not, never. His daughter would have been in the same year as you and your friends had she survived. That Dumbledore sent children into this war was a major part of Antonin's zeal to defeat the old mage and his order. And revenge for killing his family, of course."
"What happened?"
"Alastor Moody. He burnt down their cottage after setting anti-Apparition wards, thinking Antonin being inside. Katarina Dolohov was still weak after the birth of little Nadeshda. Antonin would have been home with his wife and their new baby, three weeks old, but there had been some sort of emergency at Gringotts. He sent Yaxley to look after his family but Corban arrived too late."
"How horrible!" Hermione wanted to know whether legal action had been taken against Alastor Moody but in her heart knew that it hadn't. And Dolohov had been cleared of having killed the Prewett twins after the second war when Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt had been adamant of sweeping nothing under the rugs, of giving everyone – including himself and those convicted in the first war – a trial.
"Mhm. Antonin is only coming to terms with what happened now that he's a free man again. He keeps to himself mostly, but during the last two years he's been known to smile from time to time. Mainly when playing darts with Corban and some younger Death Eaters, those who had joined out of fear for family members like Jugson or Thorfinn."
They stayed in each other's arms until the warming charms from earlier started to dissipate. Hermione felt that they'd covered a lot during their date. She wished for some time alone to think on everthing she'd learned, but not right this moment. After saying good bye and agreeing on another meeting the following Saturday the witch waited for her intended to make a move towards their first kiss. When he only looked at her half asking, half smouldering she raised on her toes and closed her eyes in a clear invitation. Rodolphus met her lips in a cautious manner. Hermione chose not to think on why but escalated their kiss to snogging. When he followed her lead in an eager way she chose not to think any longer for a few minutes.
Coming up for air a while later neither knew what to say. Finally Rodolphus remarked, "It is an auspicious start if we can agree on books and kisses, isn't it?"
Hermione had to laugh at this.
"Yes, it is, and it makes me glad." She hugged him again before they packed up their belongings. Making sure they were alone they Apparated to their respective homes.
Author's note: Knuht Kostyuhr means fire whip according to an online translator.