August 13th

She could feel him watching her in the darkness. How she was able to sense that he was awake and staring in her direction wasn't clear. Just that she knew he was. Over the course of thirteen years of marriage and sharing a bed for most of those nights, Hermione developed a special sense to know when her husband was awake and watching. Unsure if she was ready to engage the frustrating man in conversation just yet, she kept her eyes closed and focused on keeping her breathing steady.

Only moments after Antonin released his hold on Oliver when he first reentered the safe house after two entire days away, he headed straight for their bedroom. Not a single word was spoken to anyone. There was no special greeting for his wife. Whatever he'd been involved in his absence, it was evident that he still wasn't over being angry at Hermione for being honest about her desire to run away again. Maybe he would never get over it. She couldn't allow his feelings to dictate her future choices. If she determined that leaving was the best option for her, she wouldn't hesitate.

After a shower, he'd climbed in their bed and immediately gone to sleep. If she discovered later that he hadn't slept at all in the entire time he was gone, she wouldn't be surprised. Despite his age, Antonin had plenty of experience delaying sleep when it didn't fit into his plans. A life spent in the Dark Lord's service made one adaptable. When dinner was over and she could hardly keep her eyes open, she considered just sleeping out on the sofa in the lounge. Maybe it would've been better for both of them if she'd stayed away longer. But, she didn't want to concern Oliver any more than he already was. Waking up to find his mother separated from his father would only make him worry. The needs of children could be so simple at times. He just wanted to see them all together, safe and happy.

Antonin didn't even wake up when she crawled into bed next to him. Careful to keep distance between their bodies, she fell into a restless sleep. Several times throughout the night she woke up following unsettling dreams. Even with him back, she didn't feel at peace about it. There was so much she wanted to know, so much she didn't. Sometime in the middle of the night when the tiniest sliver of the waxing crescent moon was high in the sky, she knew she couldn't ignore him any longer.

Hermione rolled over onto her side, the front of her body turned towards the center of the bed. She opened her eyes to meet Antonin's, to show him that she was awake and knew that he was too. Neither of them were in a rush to break the hypnotic silence. Finally, when she was half-convinced he was merely asleep with his eyes open or had no desire to ever speak to her again, her husband closed the distance between them to gently press his lips against hers. Over in a heartbeat, he didn't press for anything further.

"I'm sorry that I ran out on you… and Oliver."

"I understand why you were so upset."

Part of her wasn't ready to accept his apology. Running out on his family when he was angry with her into an uncertain world where he could've been seriously hurt or worse wasn't how a rational adult handled their frustrations. It had been foolish. Of course the moment those thoughts raced through her head, she realized her own hypocrisy. Hadn't she done the same only seconds after she tried to kill her husband in her frightened and muddled state? And how many times since she'd returned from her year-long adventure had she considered doing it all over again? Perhaps they really were made for each other.

"I forgive you, Antonin. You had every right to be upset."

She was glad that he didn't argue with her. There was no reason and she much preferred their discussions in bed to be much calmer and less fraught with emotion than their usual rows. After their argument about their mutual infidelities in bed earlier in the month, she never wanted to have another disagreement in that sacred place again. Heated debates that led to even more passionate encounters would, however, continue to be allowed. Even if she knew she might come to regret it the moment the words were out of her mouth, Hermione made the decision to continue to be completely honest with her husband. If she wanted him to be honest, she had to do the same.

"I only planned to run because, honestly, Antonin, the very thought of staying in this country has become unbearable."

It was true. Every second she remained, she felt more and more confined. The future leadership of the regime, or even if there was a regime didn't matter. She was under no delusions that she would be allowed to live a happy, quiet existence within the borders of the country she was born in. No longer did she feel like she was welcome at home. Imagining a future where she had to remain in the same places she'd spent the last twenty years desiring to escape from made her unbearably sad. What was even the point of continuing to live if she had to do so in a place that made her so dejected? She would just rather not wake up one morning. Long life in misery wasn't worth it.

"Sometimes I can't even breathe here. It's too confining."

His first response was to tenderly kiss her lips again. She was grateful for the momentary distraction. If allowed to keep rambling, she might have worked herself into an anxious state that it was hard to get out of. Trial and error taught him years ago when they first married that nothing shut up her anxious rambling better than a kiss.

"You were planning to run off on your own?"

"I was."

"And now?"

"Now I'm not so sure."

Again it was the complete truth. Even in the short period of time since she began scribbling out that damned list that started the whole trouble in the first place up until that moment in Augustus' house, a great deal about her life had changed. Part of it she knew had to do with the work that Babajide Akingbade did in restoring her memories and removing the charms from her mind. She hoped that he'd been able to remove all traces of Rodolphus' treachery. The fear that the wizard would one day be able to gain access to her mind and implant more spells terrified her more than little else in her life had.

"I understand not wanting to stay in this country any longer than necessary too. It's… it's not home any longer."

Antonin might have felt the same way that she did about leaving the country, but she knew better than to believe that he would act on his feelings. There was too much at stake. He'd already made it perfectly clear that although he didn't actually desire to be the Dark Lord, he didn't trust anyone else to fill up that role. For the safety and security of his family, he was willing to do the exact opposite of what he wanted. It was a tremendous sacrifice. One that she hoped he wouldn't have to make. Not wishing to linger any further on that topic out of fear of how the rest of their discussion would go, Hermione tried to change the subject.

"Where have you been since you left?"

"I snuck back into our home first. There were some items in the basement that I thought we might need. Almost didn't make it back out, if I can be honest. It's being watched."

She couldn't imagine that there was anything left in their house in Hogsmeade that was worth retrieving enough to get pulled into another ambush. Of course it wasn't left unattended. Rodolphus and whatever other idiots were working with him knew that eventually one or both of the Dolohovs would try to sneak back into their house. It was a foolish errand. Not worth the risk. Nothing in that basement was. They'd already packed up the most valuable artifacts and mementos in their bags before they left.

"And that took you two days?"

At first he was reluctant to respond. Years as an interrogator taught her what signals to look for. That and she knew the man better than most. He was easy to read if one simply knew where to look. Antonin was keeping something from her. Likely, a lot of somethings. How was she supposed to trust him if he didn't tell her his secrets? She pushed aside the harsh reminder that she wasn't being entirely truthful with him either. It wasn't fair to expect out of him what she wasn't willing to offer herself.

"I spent most of the time meeting with potential allies. Understandably, they're paranoid and secretive. Word has gotten out that we ran. That doesn't make us look good. We either look guilty or weak. I'm not sure which. Maybe both. These allies had a lot of questions for me. They're still not convinced that they want to help."

"They're going to help you become the next Dark Lord?"

Even in the dim light she could see him vehemently shake his head. She was surprised. Hadn't that been the plan all along? Wasn't that why it was so imperative that Rodolphus and his ilk eradicate the Dolohovs from existence? They were a rival and a challenge for the head of the regime.

"Why not?"

"You reminded me that it was never something I wanted. You encouraged me to seek another way."

Knowing that Antonin wasn't interested in becoming the Dark Lord lifted some of the burden off of her shoulders. She had been terrified for him. There may not have been the all-consuming romantic love between them that stories and films were full of, but there was enormous respect. Especially now that she knew that he wasn't the abusive monster her addled brain made him out to be, she wanted him to be safe and happy and whole. They shared a connection, a son. It wasn't unreasonable that she wanted him to be protected. If he no longer wished to ascend to the throne of the Dark Lord, there might even be a future worth having with him… for him. She still didn't expect to make it out unharmed and whole herself.

"I'm not sure my plan will work, so until I do, I don't want to give you any details, my love, but just know that I'm trying. I'm trying to ensure that we not only have a future worth having, but our son does too."

Their conversation ended there. The events of the past two days had taken their toll on each of them in different ways. With Antonin snuggled up behind her back and his arms wrapped around her, Hermione finally found the rest that had eluded her for days.