Antonin looked exhausted. All thoughts that he'd been spending his evening away with his mistress flew out of Hermione's mind. This was not the kind of exhaustion that came from an erotic encounter between the sheets. She could see without even needing to know the details that her husband was coming home after a very rough day. Feeling the slightest bit of pity for the man, she rose from her chair to pour him a glass of fire whiskey. He accepted the drink with a grateful peck to her lips as he slid down into an empty chair.