She'd considered running back to Hogsmeade to beg her husband's forgiveness more times than she was comfortable admitting even to herself. Life as a fugitive had been difficult. No matter what she had done to Antonin, a part of her believed that he would always accept her back. Maybe at first she would have to endure his punishments, his cold, calculating hatred, but eventually, he'd be desperate for their life to return to normal. It was almost an attractive idea until she remembered that their normal was hardly healthy or safe. Their relationship would only grow more dangerous and toxic. As much as she longed to come in out of the cold, both figuratively and literally, she knew it was a terrible idea. Eventually, she'd end up dead at her demented husband's hands. Of that, she had little doubt.