August 17th

To everyone's great disappointment, except for maybe Augustus', Alecto wasn't able to provide any additional information that they didn't already know. The horrible woman stayed the night and even insisted on lingering long enough the next morning to make a big breakfast. Apparently their exertions worked up quite an appetite. Hermione really didn't want to know.

There was no way to keep their son from knowing they had an unfriendly visitor while he slept. When he woke up to find his parents snuggled up together asleep in a bed that was entirely too small for them, he'd been surprised. He appeared to take the news of the intrusion well, all things considered. Oliver appreciated his father's thorough explanation of how secure his room was.

Augustus knocked on the bedroom door when it was safe for them to come out. For the rest of that day and into the next, he couldn't meet Hermione's eyes. If she walked into a room he was in, no matter if there was someone else in there with him or not, he made poor excuses to leave. Once the alcohol and the sex-induced haze wore off, he must have been humiliated. She could understand. Remembering her own actions with Antonin brought a flush to her own cheeks. Her earlier desire to escape from the safe house and find somewhere else to stay increased tenfold. It was entirely possible that the days of the four of them sharing a pleasant meal together were over thanks to the pushy Carrow bitch. Her mere presence was enough to ruin everything. They simply had to make the best of it until another safe place could be found.

The first full day after Alecto left, Hermione and her husband took their time getting out of bed. With no jobs to rush off to, they could linger as long as they wished. Hermione enjoyed the conversations they had, usually, in that sacred place. It might not have been their home, but they were still able to make it comfortable.

"I stopped by Corban and Mafalda's yesterday. Ollie's owl with his school supply list was delivered to their house because no one was at ours."

"Was it safe to go over there, Antonin? It's next door to our house."

"I have no fear of going to their house. It's our house that's being watched. Whatever incompetent fools Rodolphus and his little group have employed for surveillance are complete rubbish. Took them over an hour to even realize I was inside our house when I went there before. I highly doubt they've enough brain cells between them to think about watching the neighbors' houses too."

"But regardless, I wish you'd be more careful."

He rolled over onto his side and pulled her back against his chest in one swift, determined motion. When it suited him, the wizard didn't mind proving how physically strong he still was. Hermione certainly didn't have much to complain about, especially when he nuzzled into the side of her neck to kiss the sensitive flesh there. Something changed between them with the removal of the last spell. She wasn't sure what it was exactly, only that she was interested to see what developed.

"You're not saying that you're concerned about me, are you?"

"Is it such a difficult concept to imagine that a wife might worry about her husband from time to time?"

"Honestly?"

She sighed, not sure she really wanted him to give an honest answer to her question. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Surely it wasn't too much to ask for a simple life, a simple marriage. Nothing about them had ever been simple and it was unlikely that it ever would. Antonin kissed the back of her head and gently tightened his grip on her body.

"Do you still wish that I'd never asked the Dark Lord's permission to marry you? Do you still wish he would've allowed you to marry Gus instead?"

It wasn't the first time her husband had asked her that very question, though she desperately hoped it would be the last. How was she to even answer it? She wasn't even sure she knew how she felt. Everything in her mind had been so jumbled and muddled for so long that she struggled telling the difference in what was real and what was manufactured at times. Whether it was his intention or not, Antonin was a master at emotional manipulation. Perhaps she was just as guilty of doing the same to him when it suited her.

"Why would you even ask that? It's not like we can change the past. All dwelling on it does is make us miserable."

"I suppose I'm asking because I want to believe there's something to hope for."

"It's dangerous to pin all of your hopes on someone, especially if that someone is me."

She didn't want to hurt him with the truth he was asking for. How could she lay there in his arms and tell him that if given the choice to be able to run away on her own or to be by his side, she couldn't decide? Antonin wanted to hear that she'd changed her mind, that her time with him since she returned in May showed her that he was all she ever wanted and desired. It was cruel to lie to a man who was being so vulnerable. She had the power to control him, to crush him with only her words. His weakness, indeed.

"I don't want to marry Augie. I'm not really even sure I ever did."

Knowing and fully understanding that her love for Augustus grew out of a desperation for some kind of positive connection irrevocably marred how she used to view the past. The clearing up of her mind offered her the opportunity for increased clarity. What that might mean going forward was still yet to be determined. She didn't want to give her husband false hope or unmet expectations. Not when she was still trying to figure out what was real and what wasn't.

"I had no idea."

"If you must know, a part of me felt nothing but relief when the Dark Lord ordered Augie to reconcile with his wife."

"Until you found out you would have to marry me instead."

There was no mistaking the sadness in his voice. Sometimes he could behave so petulantly when it served his purposes, but this was different. He was being sincere. His grip on her body lessened. She was afraid he was going to run off again, claiming he had some mysterious errand to run just so he could lick his wounds in private. Turning over to look him in the eye, she couldn't miss the pain, the hurt in those dark brown orbs. Her chest constricted at the undeniable truth that despite his decades as a fierce and violent Death Eater, he was at his core just a man in love with a woman who didn't want him. It was easy to forget that even Lord Voldemort's most faithful were only human.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Antonin. Not about this. I respect you too much. Yes, okay? I was disappointed when we were ordered to marry. More than disappointed really. I was angry. I've never wanted my life to be decided by anyone else… especially not the Dark Lord."

She sighed. This wasn't how she wanted the morning to go. Why were they seemingly incapable of going more than a few days without fighting? Was this normal? Were all marriages so bloody frustrating or were they special? They had been dancing around this subject for a long time. Perhaps it was for the best that she just jump in and get it over with.

"We can't keep looking to the past and regretting what we see, Antonin. The past is over and the future isn't promised to us. All we have is the present, this moment right here. Why are we wasting it?"

Her husband stared at her without speaking, almost as if he really wasn't even entirely sure that she was real. While part of her always wished she had the ability to see inside his mind, mostly she was afraid of what she would find inside. No one ever confused her as much as he did. No one that is, when she wasn't under the influence of a complex system of memory charms and potential mind control spells. Sometimes she wondered if she even knew who she was after having Rodolphus' treachery removed from her mind. She might be a complete stranger.

"And do I have you in this moment?"

"Do you see anyone else in this bed with you?"

Some of his sadness melted away with his smile. Though never completely gone, she loved when he smiled wide enough that she couldn't miss his dimples. She leaned over to kiss each one. His arms wrapped around her back, holding her in place. The intensity of his stare reminded her of what he was capable of. This was the man who killed the most powerful Dark wizard that history had yet to know. He killed him for her, for the chance to have a future with her. Was there ever a greater demonstration of a man's love? She didn't think so.

"I know it was you who protected me in my broom cupboard first. That it was your idea all along."

His smile slipped. He didn't know what to say.

"For years now I've wished it had been you outside of my cupboard instead of Augie. Maybe that was a sign that it's been you I've really wanted all of this time?"

"And you can have me whenever you desire. I'll gladly wait for you forever if that's how long it takes."

He coupled his promise with a searing kiss she felt all the way to her toes. Others had come close, but the chemistry between husband and wife had always been the most powerful. Sometimes she wondered if he'd made his feelings for her clear from the very beginning of their acquaintance and showed her how passionate he could be, if she would've been content to stay only inside his bed. The thought of being completely faithful to one's spouse had always appealed to her even if she hadn't considered putting it into practice. With the exception of those first few months of their marriage when they were trying to conceive their first child, she strayed frequently. Antonin did too. Maybe not as often as she did, but it wasn't really a competition.

Spinning them so that Hermione's back was on the mattress and his body pressed on top, Antonin removed his lips from hers to kiss down the column of her neck. He kissed every part of her body his mouth could reach while he made his slow, torturous descent to her knees. Pushing the hem of her thin nightgown up, he met her eyes with a pleased smirk when he discovered no knickers to impede his progress. She could hardly lay still in the anticipation of what she knew was about to happen. Her husband traced the inside of her thigh with his skilled tongue, nipping the flesh ever so gently just to hear her moan. He liked to tease her, torture her, make her beg. She was on the verge of pleading with him to stop tormenting her with his gentle pecks…

Until there was a loud knock at the door completely spoiling the moment. The feel of Antonin's deep, annoyed growl between her thighs made Hermione laugh even as she tried to ignore her disappointment and frustration that they were interrupted. Oliver's voice could be heard on the other side of the door asking if he could come in. His father stared down at his mother with a scowl on his handsome face.

"Don't look at me like that. You were the one who was so insistent that I get pregnant thirteen years ago. I'd say this was entirely your fault."

He rolled his eyes even as he bit back a grin.