The sun wasn't even out of the sky yet when the front door to the safe house opened to admit a smiling Antonin. Hermione looked up from the book she was reading, surprised that her husband was actually going to be home at a decent hour. Most nights he stumbled in just as his family was getting ready for bed or already snuggled into their beds asleep. His associates, the ones that he hoped would be convinced to fight in the upcoming war on his side, preferred to meet under the cover of darkness. There was too much at stake in their lives to be seen with a notorious figure like Antonin Dolohov alone. Suspicion, evidently, was choking the remnants of the regime.