April 6th

Hermione stared out the kitchen window to the crashing waves of the ocean only a few hundred meters from the house. Something about the area where Augustus grew up calmed her down better than just about any other place. When they stayed behind in France for their first days alone, he'd rented a cottage near the ocean. They could hear the sounds of the waves crashing against the beach, the birds squawking above. It had been so peaceful. Many times in the years since she would close her eyes and try to picture every beautiful detail of those weeks.

Neither one of them wanted to return to their chilly native country. Especially not to spend the first weeks of autumn in Scotland where their master made his home. She had just gotten to the place where she was feeling like herself again. Or rather, the version of Hermione that was left over after all of the training and grief had ripped her apart from within. It had been exhilarating to feel normal, to feel like she wasn't fighting against the entire world for the chance to survive.

Augustus made her feel like she was more than just another soldier fighting for the Dark Lord. He reminded her with every brush of her lips against her skin, every flick of his tongue, every thrust of his hips that she was a sensual being worthy to be worshipped. It was a heady experience that she found herself addicted to. Stripping away their titles and positions with their clothes, they became man and woman, nothing more and nothing less. She could have easily spent the entirety of her existence in his bed. What was supposed to only be three days turned into three weeks.

She was half-convinced when they finally returned to Hogsmeade to answer their first summons in all that time that she would never be allowed to leave Antonin's house again. It was no secret that he had the ear of the Dark Lord. When they didn't come back with the others, he likely rushed to their master to beg him to call him back. Lord Voldemort had more important concerns to worry about than what two of his Death Eaters were actually up to on a mission abroad. All he cared about was the fact that they were able to track down two additional Resistance members in the extra time they spent in France. No one needed to know that they were both tied up in the cellar of the seaside cottage for the better part of a week, the raucous carnality of their captors a constant assault to their ears.

Antonin did what he could to keep the two of them apart. Her training became more intense, her missions with him more frequent. If he thought time away from each other would cool their ardor, he'd clearly never heard the cliché about absence making the heart grow fonder. Instead of deterring the budding relationship, her teacher only ensured that they became more creative in their exploits and rendezvous.

Her thoughts were so far away in the past as she sipped at her first cup of tea that she didn't even hear the other occupant of the house enter the kitchen. She wasn't even aware of Augustus' presence until his arms wrapped around her front, carefully pulling her body against his. They both stared out at the waves, their respective minds drifting off to thoughts better left tucked away in the furthest recesses of their minds. As much as they might like to, they would never be able to go back in time. She could've stayed in the familiarity of his embrace for a lot longer. She might have allowed it too if his stomach didn't loudly protest its lack of food.

"Let me make you some breakfast. You need to keep up your strength."

"Don't leave just yet."

She did as he bid. Truthfully, she wanted to be nowhere else. There was a comfort standing in the window with his arms around her that she longed to continue. In the time that she'd been in his house, they hadn't done anything they would come to regret later. Everything had been perfectly innocent. She'd cared for him as he rested. It was nice to feel needed again. She knew that if they continued in the vein they were in, their actions would eventually escalate to a point with which they could not return. They were embarking on dangerous territory.

"I like to stand in this window and think about you."

Hermione sighed. It was a lovely sentiment, but definitely not one she needed to hear. Coming to Cornwall wasn't shaping up to be one of her better ideas. At the time, when she was rushing away from the scene of her crime against Aberforth Dumbledore as quickly as she could, she didn't even mean to land where she did. Half a kilometer from his house, she knew she should've headed straight for a Muggle bus station. With multiple visits to the house already since that day, it was only a matter of time before her husband returned.

"Augie…"

"I have so many regrets, Hermione. So many. You are right there at the very top of the list."

"Augie…"

"When I was lying in the ruins of the Leaky Cauldron, unsure what was happening, you were the one I thought of. You are always the one I think of."

Despite his protestations, she removed herself from his embrace. No longer were they simply embarking on dangerous territory, they were already there and settling in for a long winter. She didn't have the strength to reject him in that moment. If he continued, she would hand herself over to his keeping, body and soul. She had to keep her wits about her.

Disappointed with how she moved across the kitchen, Augustus lowered himself down into a chair at the table with a heavy sigh. Hermione busied her hands with pulling out food from the cupboards to cook. She couldn't trust herself around the wizard. There was too much history there. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, but she could feel his eyes watching her every move. Only when she laid a plate in front of the man and reached for his potions did she speak. All she could think of was the explosion. She still didn't know the details.

"What happened that day? In London. No one with the Resistance could tell me."

He didn't want to talk about it. That much was evident by the manner in which he stabbed at his eggs with his fork. Hermione was persistent enough to ask again. She'd rarely been unable to get him to answer her questions in the past. Perhaps despite the passage of so much time, some things remained the same.

"Your husband is campaigning. Quietly, of course, but campaigning nonetheless. Someone must have tipped off the Resistance that we were meeting that day in the back room. My Knut's on Tom, the proprietor. He's been wanting to get rid of us for years. Hates that we meet in the Leaky Cauldron."

"You really think that the wizard would put his business, his livelihood at stake just to get rid of some annoying customers?"

"Yes, I do. It's been a while since you've been to one of those meetings, love. At least as a participant."

Remembering how he threw her over his shoulder to carry up the stairs to his private room just a short time ago, he winked. Hermione snorted. Maybe she hadn't been at the last several meetings, but she knew what they entailed. They were all alike. Knowing that Antonin was no longer being as clandestine in his efforts to ensure he had enough support to throw their master over was a bit of a surprise. Of course he'd spoken to her in whispers in the privacy of their own bed. Outside of that sanctuary, however, he was more careful.

"Seems like a ridiculous reason to blow up his own business. He was always paid, wasn't he?"

"I'm sure money wasn't the issue. But, it doesn't matter. Tom was killed."

"Hardly seems likely that he would be the one responsible then."

One thing had always been certain from the moment they first spoke through the keyhole of the broom cupboard: they could argue about anything and everything. Augustus had the good sense to drop his speculations about poor, dead Tom. Hermione could understand at least to an extent why the man wouldn't want the Death Eaters in his pub, but considering they were regulars who always paid their tab and even slipped him a little extra to turn a blind eye to some of their activities, she didn't agree with Augustus' assessment.

"Who else died? I heard that there were multiple fatalities. Ginny Weasley said that the newspapers were keeping the names quiet. She assumed it had to do with someone important being killed."

As the days wore on, she had enough time to think about each and every Death Eater she would be sorry to hear was dead. There was a long list of those she hoped made it through the attack. Considering he was right there in the midst of the violence, Augustus should be able to set her mind at ease. Or, give her the bad news, whichever the case might be.

"Young Theodore Nott was killed."

Hermione felt her stomach clench at the news. Though she might not have been terribly close to Theo, she had always liked him. He was Draco's best friend. Some of the wizard's bizarre behavior from the night he came to her tent made a little more sense. Beyond just simply being drunk, Draco was grieving the loss of one of his few friends. She felt sorry for him and hoped she would one day have the chance to offer her sympathy.

"Bloody shame too. He was a good kid. Too bad his worthless father couldn't have taken the brunt of it."

"Who else?"

"Mostly minor Death Eaters. A few new recruits. None you'd probably recognize. The ink on their NEWT reports were still wet. Everyone else got out with just bumps and bruises."

He wasn't referring, of course, to himself. As much as he might have tried to lie to her about the severity of his wounds, she knew him too well. When his breakfast was gone and his potions consumed, Augustus made his excuses to return to his room. She spent the remainder of the day checking on him to make sure he didn't need anything and trying to ignore the worry that he was still not telling her everything.