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The scream was what woke Hermione up but it didn't take her long to realise that the scream had come from her own mouth. Her dream had been far too rea - she'd been sixteen again, lying on the floor of the Department of Myrsteries with no idea whether she would make it out of there alive.
"Hermione?" The very face that she had seen before she'd opened her eyes was staring at her but instead of the cruel, menacing expression that the had worn just moments ago, his eyes were soft, concerned. "Is everything - is everything okay?"
Hermione remained silent, her eyes fixed on Antonin as she tried to remind herself that this man wasn't the same one who had almost killed her all those years ago, that he wasnt the same man as the one who had tried to kill her friends, who had helped to take over the wizarding world. Her Antonin was reformed and she had helped that reformation.
"Bad dream?" Antonin asked when she said nothing. She could tell that he desperately wanted to touch her, to caress her face, but he didn't dare touch her. He knew exactly what her bad dream had been about, after all.
She pushed herself up into a sitting position and screwed her eyes shut before she nodded. She couldn't look at him while she admitted that what he had done in the past was still hurting her. She couldn't look at him because it was hard then to separate the man he had been with the one he was now.
"Yes." She said quietly as she drew her knees to her chest, holding them as tightly as she possibly could. "It was a bad dream." Bad dreams were expected. They'd both suffered from nightmares for as long as Hermione could remember, but the worst ones were the ones that were about the man that she loved because they reminded her of all the reasons that she was supposed to hate him.
"What do you need from me?" Antonin asked and Hermione couldn't help but appreciate that he was waiting for her to dictate his next move. Ron would have hugged her immediately when that was exactly what she didn't want, she didn't want to be touched.
"Maybe a cup of tea?" She asked quietly, already feeling guilty that she was asking for anything from him. She tried to squash that feeling down as she opened her eyes and glanced at him. He looked terrified but she didn't know what he was scared of. Had he also suffered a nightmare? Or was he worried that she was going to kick him out? That she was, in Harry's words, "finally going to see sense"?
"You got it, Zolotse." He whispered and for a split second it looked as if he was about to kiss her on the cheek before he swung his feet off of the bed and left the room, leaving Hermione with only her thoughts for company.
She waited a moment before she got out of bed herself and walked over to the window, her eyes scanning over her wild uncomfortable hair, down to her eyes which were surrounded by crow's feet and then down to her stomach. She knew why she'd been dreaming about what he'd done to her more often but she didn't know if she was ready to admit it to herself, let alone ready to talk about it out loud. She swallowed thickly as she pulled her pyjama top up just that little bit.
The scar he had given her had faded over the years but it was still there if you knew where to look. It wasn't as prominent as the one that Bellatrix had given her but that one didn't bother her as much. She wore the word 'mudblood' with pride because she knew what she was and she knew who had won the war in the end.
No, this other scar was the one that bothered her. It hadn't pained her in years but that hadn't stopped it from bothering her. A specialist healer had once told her that because of the internal injuries that Antonin's curse had caused, she would never conceive a child. At the time, that hadn't been a big deal to her. She'd never really seen herself as the mothering type and considering how busy she had been with the Death Eater rehabilitation programme, she had decided that she was going to focus on her career. There were plenty of other options if she wanted to become a mother later on in life, after all.
And then she'd had a check up last week. Nothing out of the ordinary as far as she was concerned, until her blood work had come back and the healer had broken the news to her that she was pregnant. She'd stared at the woman as if she'd grown a second head because that was not news that she had prepared herself for. Especially not the news that she was twelve weeks pregnant as she had found out when they'd scanned her. She had assumed at first that she was only 'a little' pregnant and that she would miscarry in the next day or so. She had mentally prepared herself for that eventuality, and so she hadn't told Antonin.
But that wasn't the case. She'd missed the entire first trimester of this pregnancy and she was not 'a little' pregnant. She was now committed to carrying this baby to term, whether or not that was what either of them had wanted. The only time she had discussed children with Antonin ad been to tell him that she couldn't have any because of what he had done to her. That had been before they were together and he had never brought it up again, so she assumed that he was happy to live their life just the two of them.
"Is it hurting you?" Antonin's question broke through Hermione's thoughts and pulled her back to the present.
She whirled around on her heel to face him, her eyes wide as she searched her brain for an excuse as to why she had been staring at her stomach and at her scar. She shook her head as she approached him and took the cup of tea, taking a sip before she set it down on the dresser. She knew she had to tell him now, he deserved to know what was going on because they had to make the decisions about whether or not they wanted to keep the baby together.
"It's not hurting me." She promised as she took his hands into hers and lead her over to the bed. "Truly, it's not. I just… The reason that I've been…" She began but she trailed off. Did he deserve to have all of this brought up again? To be reminded that he had hurt her so badly it had impacted her life in this way? They would both need to schedule some serious time with their mind healers this week, she was sure of that.
"You know you can tell me anything, love." He whispered in what she was sure was meant to be reassuring but he followed it with "You can ask me for anything as well, even if that thing is space" which caused a sob to heave up Hermione’s throat.
"Space-" She barely got out before she had to pull in a shaky breath. "Space is the opposite of what I need. What I need is understanding and… and someone to hold my hand."
Antonin pressed a kiss to her forehead which felt like enough to help Hermione to grind her resolve and to pull herself back together. She wasn't the sort of person to break down and she didn't think that she should start now just because she could blame it on hormones. She looked up at her man, her love, and for the last time wondered how he would take the news of her pregnancy, their child. If he chose to run, she would understand even if she would never be able to forgive him.
"I saw a healer earlier this week." She continued when she finally found the words that she needed. "If… If I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes then I would probably have thought that someone was trying to stitch me up."
"Stitch you up?" Antonin interrupted, a frown on his face and Hermione was forced to pause before she could continue, her nerves only growing in that moment.
"Play a prank on me." She clarified before she shook her head. "But they're not. This is real and this is happening and I'm fucking terrified but I… I think I'm at least ready to discuss this next chapter of our lives. I mean, we've got no choice but to discuss it now even if it's not something that you want. I'm not even sure that it's something that I want but…" She knew that she was rambling and that really she needed to cut to the chase but to say the words aloud would mean that this was real and that this was what was either going to make or break them.
"Zolotse." Antonin had pulled one hand free so that he could caress her cheek with his thumb. She has a feeling that he had worked it out but was still waiting for her to actually say the words. She could see in his eyes that he needed to hear them as much as she needed to say them for this conversation to continue.
"I'm pregnant, Antonin." She managed after a beat of silence. "I'm pregnant and I don't know what to do."
Antonin was watching her face, studying her as if she were either a piece of art or a bomb that he needed to diffuse. Or maybe both. She fell silent as she waited for him to react in any sort of way and she remained perfectly still.
"You are pregnant?" He asked, his hand dropping from her face, his eyes dropping to their joined hands. She wondered if he wanted her to let go but she didn't. She didn't want him to run and if she gave him the chance, she feared that he would take it and then she would never see him again.
"I am." She nodded, her own eyes flickering downwards but landing on the floor, on the fluffy carpet between her toes that they had both so carefully picked out. In fact they had chosen everything in this flat together, everything except the child that was growing inside her womb. "I know it's something we've never discussed. We've both been so busy with the programme and I think maybe a part of me hoped that was the only reason that we've never discussed it because I've been so nervous about your response. I've never particularly seen myself as a mother but I think that's because it's always been off the table. Now I have the chance to be, or I can choose not to be and I can give this child to another loving family." She looked up and met his gaze again. "You've never told me whether you wanted children."
"I don't deserve children." Antonin's voice was cold, so cold that it sent a shiver down Hermione's spine and to her core. "No, that is not true. No child deserves to have me as their father." He pulled his hand free of hers but instead of running to the door, he sat on the edge of the bed. He reminded her so much of a lost child in that moment and she wanted to wrap her arms around him, but she knew that she shouldn't. He had pulled away from her and she had to respect that the way he respected when she needed space.
"You're not that man anymore, Antonin." She promised him as she knelt in front of him. They couldn't make a decision about whether or not they should keep their child until the two of them were on the same page about who he was. "Yes, you've done some awful things. So have I. And honestly I don't think there's anyone who fought in that godforsaken war who can say they don't have blood on their hands, but you've changed. You've repented. You've been in the programme since it's inception and Antonin, my love, you're my success story."
He reached forward to cup her cheek with his palm and she could only lean into his touch. There were tears in his eyes and Hermione could almost see how badly he wanted to not hate himself.
"I'm not trying to force you to say yes." She continued, her eyes fixed on his. "I'm not trying to beg you to raise this child with me. I just want you to see you how I see you. I want you to see the person you are now, the person who not only follows the programme to the letter but helps others to. The person who has taken so many of the children of your ex brethren under you wing and helped them to understand that you were all brainwashed. You killed and maimed and tortured but you did all that because you thought it was what you had to do to survive. You are worthy of this child if this child is what you want."
His tears were falling now. Silently. He hadn't moved his hand, which she was counting as a good thing but she shuffled forward and laid her head in his lap. His hand moved to her head and she could feel him playing with her curls, something which quite often soothed both of them but her heart was racing far too fast now.
"If anything," She whispered, not looking up so she wasn't even sure that he would be able to hear her, "I feel it's proof that you are a changed man that this child was even able to come into existence."
They sat their for a while, the silence growing thicker around them, and neither daring to move for what felt like hours. It wasn't until Hermione's alarm clock startled her that she was even aware that morning had somehow crept up on them. She peeled herself away from him in order to silence it before glancing out at the murky grey sky.
"I'm going to floocall Percy. Tell him neither of us will be in today." She said quietly as she laid a hand on Antonin's shoulder. "Take a nap, I'll be back to get in beside you in a moment."
Antonin didn't resist as she gently pushed him down. His expression was vacant and she knew that shock had taken over. She hoped that sleep would help both of them and that he would at least be able to give her words some thought. She hated that even after all this time he still didn't think that he was worthy of love.
**
When Hermione returned to the bedroom, she found that Antonin had fallen asleep and she allowed herself to watch him for a moment or two before she reheated her tea and sat in the armchair in the corner of the room. She would get into bed beside him as she had promised once she had allowed her nerves to settle. It had been a long night and she was exhausted but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to sleep right away anyway.
She'd not told Percy exactly what was going on, and thankfully he'd simply accepted that she wasn't feeling well and that she'd kept Antonin up all night. His reply had been "Dolohov has a mandatory check in tomorrow" to which she had promised he would be there. It didn't matter that Antonin attended the programme every single day with her; the mandatory check ins were every two weeks and if you missed one, a hefty fine or jail time was issued.
Hermione knew that Antonin couldn't afford the fine - and he sure as hell wouldn't let her pay it for him - which would mean a trip to Azkaban if he didn't show tomorrow. She wouldn't allow for him to go back to Azkaban, he had barely processed the torture he had endured during his last stint in the prison. No, sending him back there would cost him the last of his sanity and all for what? The baby they didn't even know if they were keeping yet. Why had she chosen the middle of the night to break the news?
She was angry at herself for the way everything had transpired, even if she was now relieved that he finally knew the truth and she was able to begin to process her own feelings now that it felt a bit more real. She allowed her free hand to rest on her stomach, her eyes still on Antonin's sleeping form as she wondered if she could feel anything. She didn't have a bump yet, which she found strange considering that Ginny had one by the time she was twelve weeks along, but then she had to remind herself that Ginny was a slight slimmer built than she was thanks to her Quidditch career.
There was nothing to feel, however, and for some reason that caused her to tear up. She set her tea down on the little table, her hand shaking as she did so and she had to hold her hand to her chest as she forced herself to take slow, steady breaths. Once she'd calmed down again, she managed to pull herself to feet and all but staggered to the bed where she allowed herself to curl up to Antonin. She could feel herself shaking still as tears fell down her cheeks thick and fast but she couldn’t have told you why she was crying if you'd asked.
**
The smell of stew was the first thing that Hermione was aware of. It filled her nostrils and beckoned her home from dreamland. The next thing she was aware of was the empty space on the bed beside her. Her breath caught in her throat but she managed to push through before she made herself sit up. It took her a moment to get her bearings and when she glanced out the window she realised that it was getting dark again. No wonder she felt as if she had no idea what decade it was, she'd practically slept the day away.
She pulled on a dressing gown and found her slippers before padding her way through to the kitchen where Antonin was busy stirring the aforementioned stew on the stove top. She didn't dare interrupt him, not because she thought he was hard at work but because he looked as though he were lost in thought and she didn't want him to lose those thoughts. She figured that they were probably important ones and if they helped with the situation then all the better.
She leaned against the doorframe as he worked, not daring to move fully into the kitchen until he noticed on his own terms that she was there. She did allow for a small smile to flicker onto her face as she realised that he could quite easily have run away while she had been asleep and yet he was still here, caring for her nonetheless.
"Zolotse." His voice was soft when he finally noticed that she was there and he immediately set the spoon down to wrap his arms around her and pepper kisses across her cheeks. It felt like a reunion of weeks, not just a few hours, but then he had been almost catatonic when she had put him to bed that morning.
"You should have woken me sooner." Hermione whispered as she leaned her head on his chest for a moment and allowed herself to take him in. He was really still here and thar meant he was at least open to talking some more. But not today. Today they just needed to be together and to let the dust settle around the bombshell that she dropped without prior warning.
"You needed the sleep. If you did not then you would have woken sooner."
She couldn't argue with that logic, she supposed so instead she continued to lean against him, her eyes closing as she allowed him to sway them for a few minutes. If there had been music then maybe it would have been considered dancing but the only sound was the soft hiss of the stove.
"Hungry?" He asked when he peeled away from her, his fingers lingering on his arm for just one short moment.
"Starved." She nodded. She hadn't realised just how hungry she was until he asked but sure enough she now had that dull ache in the pit of her stomach that reminded her that she hadn't eaten since the previous evening.
Antonin flashed her a look of concern but said no more as he plated up the food for them both. As always, Antonin's food smelled amazing and Hermione was more than eager to get stuck in. She even managed to relax as the evening turned into one of their usual nights in together. He'd cooked, they both then cleaned up and once everything was back in its rightful place, they settled down by the fire in the living room. There was still so much up in the air but they had time to figure that all out, all that mattered was that he hadn't run away. That meant more than she could even begin to explain.