April 15th

Following the tense discussion first thing in the morning, Hermione and Augustus were able to enjoy the rest of their day. Though neither of them would admit to the strangeness of their interactions and conversations, they each pretended that everything was all right. She hated the unspoken awkwardness that existed between them. Gone were the brief moments she had been able to close her eyes and pretend like they were back in the past before everything got unbelievably complicated. A restlessness filled her pores. She knew she couldn't remain much longer. As much as she despised it, her life had become a series of one temporary hiding place after another. She wouldn't be able to sustain it much longer.

Augustus announced after breakfast that he was expected at St. Mungo's for another checkup following his injuries from the explosion. It granted them a respite from each other that neither of them regretted. A few hours apart sounded heavenly to them both. No matter how much they tried not to dwell on the upsetting conversation from the day before, all either of them could think of was how much their world was in danger of changing.

She knew without even needing to ask that Augustus would flee the country at the first sign of trouble. It wasn't that he was a coward. Far from it. He just knew when it was best to be out of the reach of anyone who didn't have his best interests at heart. His family was in France. They might have abandoned him when he was first thrown into Azkaban so many years earlier, but he wasn't the kind of man to hold that against them. Whether they wanted him or not, he would be where his boys were. Two of them already had children of their own and the youngest was just about to the age when he wanted to finally settle down with a pretty French witch. If the regime started to crumble and with it the world they'd helped build, he would remove himself from the action to take care of his family.

There were mixed feelings about the whole saga for Hermione. She knew there were problems in their society that they couldn't afford to keep ignoring. Something had to change or they would all find themselves living amongst a Resistance that had grown larger than the regime they were fighting against. It was too easy to just make broad statements that there was nothing worth salvaging simply because some parts needed to be reformed. That was not only a naïve manner of thinking, it was dangerous and lazy. But, sometimes rebuilding was easier than reforming.

Thinking about her husband's part in all of it did nothing but make her stomach hurt. She didn't love Antonin. Not in the way a wife was supposed to love her husband. Perhaps if there had been changes made in the past, one path taken instead of another, it might have developed organically. But it hadn't and there was no reason to lament its loss. Their marriage was strong in other ways, weak in some. Knowing that there were people that existed in the world that wanted to kill her family was upsetting. Nothing new, of course, but still bothersome. It almost made her want to return to Hogsmeade to do what she could to keep her son protected.

Just after noon Augustus returned to the house in a sour mood. He slammed the front door shut with more force than he intended. His heavy footsteps could be heard through the house as he stomped into the kitchen where Hermione was trying unsuccessfully to read a book at the table. Just like a petulant child, he didn't offer up the reasons for his huffiness. Simply collapsed into the chair across from hers with another deep sigh. He could be frightfully adorable and painfully obnoxious all in the same breath.

"Is something the matter, darling? Did the appointment with your Healer not go well?"

"I've been cleared for portkey travel."

Hermione shut her book and set it down on the table. Confused by his announcement, she wasn't sure how to respond. For days all he had talked about when they were drifting off to sleep or picking at their meals was where they were going to go once he got his hands on an international portkey. In all of his exuberance, he'd seemed to have forgotten that getting a portkey and smuggling it out of the Ministry of Magic were two entirely different things.

"And you're upset about this? I would think that this would be wonderful news. It means you are almost fully healed."

"I'm expected to return to France now. There's no reason for me to stay, officially. I have to leave tomorrow."

He still hadn't answered her questions. How could his mood change so drastically from one day to the next? There had to be more to it than she knew.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why you're upset. You've been talking of nothing else but leaving the country."

"Yes, with you."

Many rows in her life had been memorable with that particular wizard. For reasons they never were quite able to figure out, the great passion that they shared didn't remain only in the bedroom. They could fight like no one else she'd ever known. Not even when she and her husband got going on a tear. Just before each of them progressed, she was able to pick up on the signs that they were coming. It had been a while, but she knew that they were headed for a big one. All she could do was prepare herself for the fireworks.

"But you're not going to go with me, are you?"

She wanted their discussion to remain as calm as possible. When the yelling began and the curses started flying, they tended to miss out on the most important points the other made. Hearing the anger in his question, Hermione knew she would have to tread lightly.

"Augie, it's not that I don't want to go with you…"

"You're not denying what I said."

"It would be difficult to leave with you. My magic is tracked. To even get into the Ministry, I'd need to risk being seen. Antonin's probably already watching you as it is."

Augustus scoffed at the mention of her husband. How was it possible that in one breath they could rationally discuss the man and in the next he was as unreasonable and furious as he was the day they learned the Dark Lord would not let them marry? Would some wounds never heal and continue to crop up when it was inconvenient? Evidently, Antonin wasn't the only one who struggled with his own jealousy.

"You know, you would almost think that part of you wants Antonin to find you again."

His words felt like a hex straight to the chest. How could he be so irrational? There had been plenty of opportunities to get recaptured by Antonin if she truly wanted that fate. Hell, simply casting lumos and holding her wand up for a moment or two would get her husband there faster than the Knight Bus.

"Now you're just being ridiculous, Augie."

"Am I? Because I thought you were just as anxious to leave as I was. Maybe you are, but I'm just not the right wizard."

Hermione covered her face with her hands and sighed. This was not going to end well or anytime soon. She thought it might be for the best that he go ahead and return to France immediately, if for no other reason than to spare her the aggravation of a nonsensical row that was going nowhere fast.

"Maybe your husband is the one you've actually been thinking of when you've cried out my name these last few days. Are you feeling guilty about leaving him alone in a cold bed?"

"First of all, you're wrong about me wishing he'd find me and take me home. I know the way if I ever wanted to go myself. Second, you were the one who was so adamant about leaving despite all of my concerns about how practical it would be."

He started to interrupt, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand. She wasn't finished. Because he was so determined not to leave the subject alone, she was going to say what she wanted.

"Yes, leaving the country and starting a new life together sounds like a wonderful fantasy. A fantasy, Augie. You and I both know it wouldn't work out."

"We don't know…"

"It wouldn't work. Eventually, when we realized how much danger we were in, you'd come to resent my presence. You would come to regret ever asking me to come with you."

"No, I wouldn't."

"Yes, you would. I can't bear the thought that one day you'd come to hate me. I'd rather our fantasy remain a fantasy and not become a depressing reality."

Augustus rose from his seat across the table. In moments he was on his knees in front of her, grabbing her hands in his. She hoped he wasn't about to beg her to change her mind. It seemed too undignified for a proud man like him.

"I think you're wrong, Hermione, but I don't suppose I can get you to make a different decision?"

She shook her head. He sighed. Before he released her hands, he stared into her eyes one final time with pleading splashed across his features.

"And you promise that your refusal isn't because you're thinking about going back to Antonin?"

Hermione knew it took a lot of humility to ask the question that clearly had been bothering him. To admit his own petty jealousies wasn't easy.

"Of course, Augie. I'm not interested in returning to him in the slightest. Besides, it's not exactly like his bed is all that empty. I'm sure Andromeda does what she can to keep it warm."

Augustus's expression changed at her statement. A slight narrowing of the eyes, a furrowing of his brow. It was almost as if she was speaking another language. Surely he hadn't been so insulated from what happened in their world by living in France that he wasn't aware of Antonin's longterm mistress. It was hardly a secret.

"Andromeda, love?"

"Yes. She and Antonin aren't exactly discreet."

"Andromeda Tonks?"

She rolled her eyes. Why was he behaving so strangely? He wasn't normally so thick.

"Yes, Augie. Andromeda Tonks. No doubt she's set herself up as the lady of the house since I've been gone. Probably couldn't wait for me to disappear. Dreadful slag."

Seemingly satisfied by her answer, he stood to his full height and gave her a kiss to finally end their terrible discussion. In a further attempt to thaw the chilly relations between them, he brewed her a fresh pot of tea. As she sipped at the delicious black tea with just the faintest hints of strawberry, she felt much calmer and less worried about what the world was like outside the walls of their temporary refuge.