With only two more days until they took their son to King's Cross station, the adults sat up in Augustus" lounge long after Oliver went to bed. Generous with his fire whiskey, Augustus wouldn't take "no" for an answer when he handed Hermione a glass. She didn't care for the sinking in her gut that told her that the three of them were about to have a conversation she didn't want to have. Since she walked in on Alecto with Augustus, she'd managed to avoid the master of the house. Or, possibly he was avoiding her, she wasn't positive which. It truly was too small a house to continue to have such awkward, uncomfortable experiences. She was anxious to move on to the next place they would be hiding. Under no delusions that it would be easy with her living entirely alone with Antonin again, at least she didn't have to worry about sworn enemies dropping in for a little late-night action. At least she hoped she wouldn't have to worry about that when she was alone with her husband. Stranger events had occurred in her life, however. Best not to get too complacent.