Antonin sighed heavily as he took a seat in the chair closest to hers. She'd seen him looking at the book the night before, but not opening it. Perhaps he could feel the malevolent power within its cover too. Every bit as curious and eager to learn as his wife in normal circumstances, she knew that he was afraid to learn what was wrong with her. Alain explained it to him while they were in the cave as best he could. Hermione wondered if Mr. Akingbade was correct and her husband required both of his brothers there to keep him from rushing off into the night to do something foolish that could get him killed. He seemed unnaturally calm, like he was forcing himself not to move or even breathe too hard. It was clear, to his wife at least, that Antonin was only moments away from snapping the tiny bit of composure he was holding on to. She knew that if Rodolphus was suicidal enough to walk through the door, Antonin wouldn't rest until one of them was dead.