April 7th

The next morning began much like the previous. Carefully slipping out of bed to not wake Augustus, Hermione took her time enjoying the luxurious shower in his bathroom. Though there was a serviceable place to wash in the tent, it was nothing compared to what she was able to take advantage of in his house. A man who enjoyed long, hot showers, preferably with a much younger witch, Augustus made certain that no expense was spared when he redesigned the bathroom of his childhood home. She could remember many pleasurable experiences underneath the enchanted flow of water.

When her shower was completed and she was dressed for the day, Hermione slipped out into the corridor making hardly any noise. An unexpected side-effect of so much time on the run made her surprisingly quiet on her feet. Of course, it also helped that the wizard she was currently sharing a home with for the time being was under the influence of a number of strong potions. It bothered her that he was still required to drink so many even after so much time had already passed. If his injuries were that severe, shouldn't he still be in a hospital ward in St. Mungo's being cared for by the finest Healers?

She stood once more in the kitchen window staring out at the vastness of the ocean. A fantasy of climbing in a boat at the shore and heading out into the open water until she found another life took root. It was ridiculous to imagine such things. Not only was she terrified of so much water, she didn't know where to go. Better to stay where people and things were familiar. There were a number of opportunities to get herself killed in the unknown.

Antonin hadn't made a return trip to Cornwall. Either he had given up his mad idea that she was somehow tucked away in her former love's home or he was too busy dealing with the affairs of the regime. She got the impression it was the latter. Any time her husband set his mind to something, it was damn near impossible to get him to change. It could be frustrating and exhausting. He likely was biding his time before dropping in again. She wished that he would stop searching for her. It was a foolish wish that would never come true. Until she was discovered, he would follow her to the ends of the earth.

Peeling herself away from the window, she forced herself to begin the task of making breakfast just as she had the day before. It gave her the opportunity to keep her mind from traveling down roads it was best to avoid. The chance to feel normal was all too rare in her current form of existence. She would take each offer that presented itself.

Much like every other man that she'd ever known, Augustus was led to the kitchen by his nose just in time for the first meal of the day to be completed. He gleefully sat down at the table following her instructions. The moment she laid the plate in front of him, his hand reached out to cover hers. A wealth of emotions neither of them could express out loud passed between them when their eyes met. Nothing beyond the feel of his body snuggled up behind hers or her head resting on his chest had transpired between them since she arrived. Not only his injuries were preventing the escalation of any physical activities they were both desiring. Something else, some kind of barrier still stood between them. Maybe it was the futility of it all. They could spend weeks, months, even years together pretending like they were happy before the proverbial sword came crushing down between them again.

Hermione pulled her hand out of his grip, ignoring the pained expression that crossed his handsome face. She wasn't ready to go down a path they couldn't come back from. If either of them started that journey again, it would end in nothing but sorrow. Her heart, cracked and shriveled up as it might be, could not handle another break. All Augustus would ever be to her would be another chink in the fragile armor she'd been maintaining since her best friend was murdered on the floor of the Great Hall by her master. He could break her in a second, if he wished.

"How did you get involved with the Resistance?"

She lowered herself into the chair directly opposite his with her own breakfast. His light eyes widened in surprise at her inquiry. Usually, she wasn't so blunt. She hadn't even given him the opportunity to fully wake up before asking the hard questions. Taking a deep sip of his tea to wash down a bite of his toast, Augustus took his time before answering. No doubt he foolishly hoped she would change the subject if he took too long. Perhaps the years apart made him forget some of the most basic personality traits she possessed. Dogged tenacity was high on the list.

"You realize that is a dangerous accusation to make, don't you, love?"

His first statement made her roll her eyes in annoyed frustration. The wizard was an expert at deflection and deception. Only his ill-fated acquaintance with the coward Igor Karkaroff sealed his fate so many years earlier. If Karkaroff hadn't been so concerned with saving his own sorry arse, there was no doubt in the minds of anyone who knew Augustus well that he would've been just fine. He would've been able to keep going in his life as an Unspeakable with no one being aware of just what he had done.

"Then perhaps you need to be more careful with who you choose to associate yourself with, love."

The mocking of his endearment didn't sit well with the wizard. Dropping his fork onto his plate, he focused the intensity of intimidating his glare at the younger witch. She'd seen this side of Augustus a few times in the past and never liked it. When dealing with dangerous men like him, there was a delicate balance that had to be carefully tread. Though he had never hurt her physically, there was always the chance that a Death Eater could eventually be pushed too far. She'd seen it on numerous occasions. Determined to not give an inch, she stared back at him with her version of the same expression.

"I'm not as involved as you imagine. I don't know everything they do and they certainly aren't in a rush to tell me either. I had no idea you were even mixed up with them or living with them. No one told me. I mostly just pass along information to Malfoy. Sometimes, when he's feeling generous, he tells me if you're all right. It all seems like a waste of time now."

"You asked me to trust Draco. I did. Then he told me you were the one who insisted the Resistance keep me protected."

Augustus' shoulders drooped with his sigh. Picking up the discarded fork, he pushed the eggs around on his plate without actually taking a bite. She could only imagine what was going on in his mind.

"Yes, I tried to keep you protected. Just one more failure in a long list of them."

He had a tendency to feel sorry for himself at times. Hermione hated when he grew melancholy and started to blame himself for everything that was wrong in his life, her life, the world at large. It could be exhausting and she didn't always have the energy to reassure him that all was well. She rolled her eyes, refusing to believe anything was as dire as he made it out to be.

"I'm afraid you're back at the top of the list of the Resistance's enemies."

Without explaining himself further, he pointed his wand to a stack of newspapers just barely visible in the open door leading to the living room. Several editions of The Daily Prophet flew through the air to land in front of her. Curious by his rather mysterious and dramatic display, Hermione picked the first of the papers off of the stack to search for answers. Since arriving in his home, she'd avoided all forms of communication or news from the outside world. She didn't want to know what was happening. It made it harder to forget how much danger she was in.

It didn't take long at all to discover what Augustus was upset by. Two pictures graced the front page of the wizarding paper: one of an angry and bloody Aberforth Dumbledore being dragged away in chains between two large Death Eaters and one of Hermione wearing some of her finest robes and smirking. It was an old picture, at least two years old. Taken right after some ridiculous bother at the Ministry was under control. Something about stirrings and rumblings of dissension in the Improper Use of Magic office. She couldn't remember the details, only that it was certainly not recent.

Crazed Resistance Leader Aberforth Dumbledore Finally In Custody; Hermione Dolohov To Be Honored By The Dark Lord For The Capture

She threw the hateful parchment down on the table in front of her. When she'd heard from Draco weeks earlier that the regime was pretending like she had just gone away on holiday or that she was spending more time at home with her family, she hadn't truly believed him. She didn't understand how she could be missing from the public eye for an entire year and no one knew. Was the regime that desperate to keep the news that she defected under wraps that they would lie about her role in the capture of a Resistance leader? Snorting and rolling her eyes yet again that morning, she knew the answer. Of course they were.

"Dumbledore's likely to be executed after his interrogation is complete. I can't imagine there's any way to get him out of it now."

Unable to listen to another spoken word, Hermione rose from the table. Ignoring Augustus' pleas that she not go outside, she threw open the door. She needed some fresh air.