Day Twenty-Four

On Sunday morning Hermione woke up long before the sun was up and could immediately tell she was in a very odd mood. Sometimes they could plague her at the worst times. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get her mind to shut itself off enough to go back to sleep nor could she get comfortable. As she tried to rearrange the blankets on her side and turn over to a different position, she didn't mean to, but she accidentally shook the mattress enough to wake Rabastan. When she saw his concerned face in the dim light, she felt guilty. Why should both of them have to suffer just because she was?

"Are you all right?"

She didn't mean to sigh at his question, especially since it was kindly meant. Sighing made her seem ungrateful for his concern.

"Sorry, just can't go back to sleep."

Rabastan opened his arms to invite her to rest her head on his chest. She was glad to accept. It felt nice to be in his arms, something she was sure she wouldn't get used to any time soon. She felt safe when he wrapped his arm around her. Maybe that was what had her so worried. She was worried that it wouldn't last.

"I can tell when your brain is thinking big thoughts. What's going on?"

How could she answer that without overloading him with too much? He wasn't wrong with there being big thoughts swirling around in her head. Or what if she told him her fears and he told her she was right to feel that way? Maybe it would be better to know it all up front. Regardless of what he said, she would still honor her promise to be his sponsor until the Ministry determined he no longer needed one. Then they could go their separate ways.

"Do you really want to be married to me or are you only here because you needed me to get you out of Azkaban?"

Hermione didn't want to ask. The question just sort of came out of her mouth. It was embarrassing to be so insecure. She had already gotten used to being unwanted and used in her life. Sometimes she thought she was asking too much to expect any differently. Some people assumed she was overloaded with confidence, but they didn't really know her or hear the thoughts inside her head.

"Have I not made that obvious to you yet?"

He sounded so sad and vulnerable. It hurt her to hear. Had she offended him with her question? That wasn't her intention whatsoever.

"I don't know what you feel, Rabastan. Not really."

"Then I have done a poor job indeed."

His lips pressed against the top of her head. For a moment, she felt like she was just being silly.

"Hermione, I was half in love with you just from your letters alone. Roddy teased me, but he wasn't wrong that the only days that felt worth living in prison were the ones I could hold your letters in my hands. I would read each one at least a dozen times in a row and then pull them out again throughout the day to read again. With every letter I read, I wanted to be with you more and more. Do you know how many times I had to stop myself from begging you for a picture just so I could see if the fantasy in my head was even close to reality? When you opened the door to the warden's office, I… I couldn't breathe. You were so much more than I ever dared hope for."

She wiped at the tears in her eyes. As much as she wanted to believe what he said, she was scared too. He could just be spinning a pretty story. What was so special about her?"

"Your expectations must have been terribly low if someone as plain and boring as I am was more than you hoped for."

Rabastan placed a finger underneath her chin to turn her head enough that she could look at his face. There was a sadness in his eyes that she didn't expect.

"Don't ever speak about my wife that way. She is beautiful and I will curse anyone who says otherwise. And boring? Hardly."

He released his gentle hold on her chin and she laid her head back down on his chest. Instantly his arms tightened around her again.

"I thought it was obvious by now that I've fallen in love with you, Hermione, but I guess not. I'm sorry you had reason to doubt that."

"You… you love me?"

His soft chuckles nearly made her smile even in such a tense moment.

"Yes, you silly woman. I love you."

Nervous to look back up at his face, she forced herself to be the brave Gryffindor she tried to be. She could see nothing but sincerity in his eyes and on his face. He did love her. Maybe he was all wrapped up in the whole drama of their situation and he might change their mind the more he got to know her or had to be around her when she wasn't at her best, but she believed him that in that moment, he loved her and she was certain she loved him too.

Was she bold enough to tell him so? Confessing her feelings never worked out well for her in the past. Would it be any different with him? Everything else was different, why wouldn't that?

"I love you too."

Her cheek lowered abruptly when he exhaled. Was he relieved to hear that? Did he expect her to not feel the same way? He kissed the top of her head again.

"Good. That makes it a bit easier then."

For a little while they both lay there in the silence of their dark bedroom. Neither them was in danger of falling asleep. There was too much on their minds.

"I lived for your letters too. Some days you were the only person who could make me smile."

He offered her another kiss on the head but didn't respond with speech. Maybe he didn't know what to say. Even he could be stumped for words sometimes.

"I'll always be grateful for Luna pushing me to send my first letter to my mysterious Mr. A."

"So will I. I'd hate to think who else I might've ended up with instead. Maybe she really would've been an eighty year old witch."

"Or an eighty year old wizard pretending to be a much younger witch."

"Oh, dear. That's a disturbing possibility I never even considered."

She laughed and he joined in. It felt a little easier.

"I suppose I should count myself very lucky with how lovely my Miss H turned out to be. And you? Was your Mr. A anything like you expected?"

There was vulnerability in his voice again, fear that he might be rejected. Had he been having the same thoughts?

"I honestly wasn't sure what to expect. I knew you were a Death Eater so I did have some concerns about which one you would be. But I will admit to being very pleased to see you were so handsome even if that makes me shallow."

"I'm glad you think so and I'm glad I didn't turn out to be one of the Death Eaters who horrified you."

"Me too. I couldn't tell by your name. Why did you pick Mr. A and not Mr. R or Mr. L?"

"I didn't want to give away any clues. I just picked the first letter of the alphabet."

Hermione had to chuckle again when she remembered how she used to try to figure out who he might be.

"Well, for a bit there I worried I was writing Antonin Dolohov or Amycus Carrow."

Rabastan burst out suddenly in loud, amused laughter she couldn't keep from joining in with.

"Carrow couldn't string together two coherent sentences in a single letter. You would've been bored writing him. And Antonin? You would've likely gotten letters written in his blood with toenail clippings in the envelope. He can string together some very eloquent sentences but they'd be all about wondering what your spleen tasted like and if you were truly attached to the idea of keeping all of your fingers. The man has been a nutter for the past forty years at least."

The thought of corresponding with that man made her shudder. She didn't doubt he was telling her the truth.

"Then I really am glad it was you. Dolohov gave me this scar and I'd hate to think he might ask me to carve it off and send it back to him."

Without thinking too much about the potential consequences of her action, she opened the first couple of buttons on her pajamas to show him the beginning of the nasty scar she got as a teenager in the Department of Mysteries. Her husband was both fascinated and horrified. He ran his fingertips over it for a few inches until he realized it wasn't very appropriate.

"Sorry."

"I'm not ashamed of it. Well, maybe a little. It's always awkward to have to explain it the first time I get naked with someone."

Rabastan cleared his throat.

"And have you had to explain it a lot?"

She smiled, knowing what he was not so subtly trying to ask.

"Are you trying to ask me how many people I've been with?"

"See, it's interesting how you said 'people' and not men."

Another laugh bubbled out of her.

"Maybe they weren't all men.'

He groaned.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

She couldn't stop from laughing. He brought it out of her so easily.

"I thought what happened before we got married didn't matter to you. That's what you said the day Kingsley came."

"No, it doesn't matter, but I won't lie that I'm curious. Even more so now."

"I've been with enough people to feel confident I know what I'm doing. That's all that really matters."

They got quiet again as they each continued to digest their discussion. Rabastan wasn't ready to drop it all entirely.

"All right. I won't ask about sex. That's not all that important anyway, but love, that's different. Are there any long lost loves I have to worry about sweeping you off your feet and stealing you away?"

"No. In my past I was only in love twice. One was my first love. We drifted apart after the war. We are still friends, of a sort, but no, he won't steal me away from you."

"And the other?"

She sighed. Thinking about that man was difficult. Some pain still lingered years later.

"An auror… he was handsome and exciting and he thoroughly broke my heart after two years together and a failed engagement. I would rather murder him with a rusty letter opener than run away with him."

Yet again that morning Rabastan offered her comfort and support in a difficult moment by kissing her head. He never seemed to tire of doing that. She was grateful for the reminder that he was on her side and she wasn't alone.

"But because of him Luna was able to convince me to take part in her letter-writing scheme."

"Ahh, so in gratitude for that, I could make his death quick and virtually painless."

She had to laugh at his joke or what she hoped was a joke. With his past, she couldn't entirely be sure.

"He's not worth the energy it takes to think about. But now I'm curious. Are there any long lost loves of yours I should be aware of?"

He was quiet for a moment and she worried she shouldn't have asked.

"I've loved two women in my life. I very much hope you will be the second and the last."

"And the first?"

"No longer a concern. One of the eight, I'm afraid. We were on different sides of the first war and there came a moment I had to make a terrible decision: fight for my life or let her kill me. I'm not sure I made the right decision. It was one of the moments I had to relive over and over again in Azkaban with the dementors. I vowed I would never fall in love again. Kept that promise for a long time until I started exchanging letters with a fascinating witch whose name I didn't even know until we were already married."

She turned her head to lean up and kiss him. Perhaps worried they would take it too far, Rabastan didn't let it last long.

"Now, we still have a few hours before we have to wake up to open the shop. Let's take advantage of them while we still can."

There was no reason to argue with his suggestion. Already her eyes were growing heavy again. She settled her head back down on his chest.

"But maybe you should roll over on your side. You snore less in that position."

She kicked him in the shin with her bare foot. Not hard enough to hurt him, only to make him laugh. She still rolled over and allowed him to snuggle her from behind. It didn't take either one of them long to fall asleep.

Sunday was slower in the shop, but they still had customers. Because of their heavy conversation that morning, they kept all discussion for the rest of the day light and simple. At bedtime they fell exhausted into bed and each other's arms.