August 11th

She sat up waiting for her husband to come back. Midnight came and went with no sign of Antonin returning. One o'clock arrived. Still no sign. Hermione knew it would be foolish to try to get some sleep without him back. No matter how hard she tried, she wouldn't be able to. Not while she was so worried about him. No one would ever deny that their marriage was complicated. As much as she couldn't stand him in one moment, the next she wished he was right beside her. Given the opportunity, they could go on being contradictory with each other for the rest of their lives.

By two, she couldn't bear to spend another moment in the empty bed. It was too cold and depressing. Yes, she'd spent many nights in their marriage alone for various reasons, but this was different. She was worried that he was out there in the scary world doing something foolish that would get himself killed. Would it be her fault? Probably. Even though she knew intellectually that nothing she did could actually cause him to feel one way or the other, it was all by his personal choice what he experienced, she couldn't help feeling guilty. Maybe it would've been better if she just continued to lie to him about her future plans.

Pulling a dressing gown over her nightgown, she crossed the floor as quietly as her bare feet would allow. She was thankful that at least none of the bedroom doors had an awful squeak when they were opened. It wouldn't do her any good to wake up the entire house just because she had trouble sleeping. Oliver had been worried enough as it was. When he watched his father storm out of their safe house, he'd asked his mother a dozen questions about where he was going and why and when he would be back. It had been difficult to admit that she didn't know the answer to any of them.

Augustus had always been steadfast in his habits. All of her countless visits to his childhood home over the years taught Hermione exactly where he kept his best fire whiskey. She reached into the cupboard to pull out a bottle. Though drinking alcohol had rarely been her vice of choice, she could appreciate the feel of the burn down into her belly that always helped her get to sleep. A glass or two would be all she needed to relax enough to hopefully be able to spend the night alone.

It had been over a year since she last drank one of her potions, but she still craved them every single day. She made a promise to Kingsley when she finally was coherent enough in his dingy flat to understand what was happening. Withdrawal from the horrible concoction hadn't been easy. He warned her that she almost died more than once. Too many years of reliance on something artificial to help her get through the madness of her life wreaked havoc on her body. While she could only vaguely remember how the former auror found her wandering around London still wearing her bloody clothes, she was grateful that he did. She could've easily ended up dead in a gutter somewhere with no one to mourn her. Or something worse. Some day she was going to have to sit the wizard down to get the full story. She'd been so out of it that she knew she didn't have the details.

Fire whiskey would have to be her alternative. At least it was legal and plentiful. She poured a glass and sat down at the kitchen table to sip it. In its own way, the alcohol was effective. Some of her fear about her husband began to slowly dissipate. Just before she reached the bottom of that first glass, she heard a stirring behind her. Turning in her seat, she watched Augustus enter the dark room over her shoulder. He jumped when he saw her sitting there, clearly not expecting company.

"Fuck, Hermione." He clutched at his chest. "Why are you sitting in the dark?"

"Why are you wandering around in the dark? It's after two, Augie."

"It's my house. I can do whatever I please."

She liked the fact that they were able to speak to each other again like the old friends they were. Much of the awkwardness had lessened. It also didn't hurt that Hermione made certain to cushion their headboard to keep it from slamming against his bedroom wall again. When she confronted Antonin about making it so his old rival was more than aware of what was happening in the room next door, a proud little smirk had been his only response. For the sake of peace, she made him promise to stop.

"Hope you don't mind that I helped myself to your fire whiskey."

"Of course not. What's mine is yours."

There was a time in their past when he meant that literally. It had been his intention to put aside his first wife and make Hermione his bride. She was glad that that didn't happen. He probably was too even if he was too stubborn to admit it. Perhaps realizing what he'd said without meaning to, Augustus cleared his throat and took another glass out of the cupboard. When he set it down on the table across from Hermione, she poured him a liberal amount. She'd decided before her first glass was empty that she wanted to get very drunk. Having company during such an endeavor was preferable to doing it alone. Augustus didn't mind. Just chuckled and took a deep gulp. He knew he had some catching up to do.

"I take it Antonin still hasn't come back?"

"No, he hasn't."

She finished off her glass with a single swallow and tipped the bottle to pour another. With the caustic liquid coursing through her bloodstream, she would be more capable of not worrying about the wretched, stubborn man. He was too damn unpredictable when he got angry.

"Did something serious happen?"

A deep sigh was her initial response. Hermione wasn't sure that she even wanted to entertain the possibility of having this conversation with her ex-lover. Sometimes it was best to keep her thoughts to herself. Outsiders didn't need to know the dirty details of their marriage. But, in the end, she knew she could trust Augustus. He was still her friend. Maybe there had been years when they each wished and thought it would be more… friendship was enough. He'd already proven that he could put his feelings aside to provide her family shelter. That was no small gesture.

"Antonin is angry because when we were packing our clothes in preparation for having to leave our home, he found a list I made detailing my plans for running again."

"I see."

Years of knowing the wizard seated across the table from her gave her an insight to how to read him. She knew that he had an opinion he was trying to keep quiet. It probably wasn't kind. Instead of expressing it, he continued to sip at his glass. Hermione stared at him, waiting for the moment she knew that he would finally break. Maybe the fire whiskey was getting to him or simply the late hour. She didn't have to wait long.

"Seems to me that if you really wanted to keep your plans a secret from your husband, you wouldn't have written them out and left them in a place where he could easily find them."

"It was inside the pocket of my Ministry robes."

"Robes that you hung up in the same cupboard as his?"

Hermione hated when he was perceptive. Perhaps there was even some truth to what he said. She hadn't even bothered to use a code when writing the list. Anyone who stumbled upon the piece of parchment would know her clear thoughts. Either she was getting sloppy or like Augustus said, she wanted Antonin to know her plans. It was a possibility she hadn't really considered. But, she had to remind herself, it wasn't as if she was operating at full mental capacity on that day. Not only was she still under the influence of Rodolphus' spells, she was terrified that she was about to be arrested for helping Dumbledore escape. She was leaning more towards her being sloppy that day.

"Well, no matter. What's done is done." Hermione was thankful when Augustus chose to change the subject. "Oh, I meant to tell you, I received a coded, international owl via France. Mr. Akingbade made it safely back to Uganda. He said there were no problems crossing the border."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. Thank you."

Augustus was a curious man. Perhaps a bit too curious at times. It was a personality trait that certainly aided him in becoming an effective Unspeakable. Outside of his former profession, it could be a bit annoying even if she found it amusing. Without even needing to ask him to confirm, she knew that her ex-lover was desperate to know just why he was housing an internationally renowned memory charms expert in his home. Of course, Babajide Akingbade was known for being knowledgeable in a number of subjects. It was entirely possible that Augustus didn't know his true purpose. Antonin hadn't been terribly forthcoming with what he told their host. Deciding that he'd already proven that he could be trusted, Hermione made the decision to confide in him. What did she have to lose? Supposedly all of the charms were gone.

"Mr. Akingbade was here to help remove the memory charms and blocks that Rodolphus Lestrange had been placing on my mind for years. Perhaps even since the beginning of my knowing him. Apparently, it was the most intricate network of memory spells that Mr. Akingbade had ever seen."

Augustus' wide eyes indicated that he hadn't been expected to hear what she told him. The story, barring all but the most private details, tumbled out of her mouth. He sat patiently listening to every word she spoke. Before she was even finished, she could tell that the wizard was angry.

"Antonin wouldn't give me any details, but I knew whatever it was, had to have been bad. I'm so sorry, Hermione. That's… that's awful."

"Yes, it was, but we feel confident that they're gone. My memories have been returned to me and we now know that Rodolphus is not someone we can trust."

"If I ever see that bastard…"

She reached across the table to place her hand on top of his. While she appreciated the sentiment, the last thing she desired was to have someone she cared about become another victim of the elder Lestrange brother. He was too dangerous. Squeezing Augustus' hand once and then withdrawing hers, he calmed. Emptying his glass in a single swallow, he rose from the table with his apologies. The hour had grown too late. He was tired.

Knowing that she would find no rest in her bed, Hermione continued to wait.