Hermione pulled at her curls, willing her thoughts to turn from Augustus. It was easier to not think of him, to imagine he'd been nothing but a pleasant dream she'd been forced to wake up from. Antonin was the one who kept her alive when so many in their world were of the opinion she was nothing but a worthless enemy. He taught her how to survive, how to thrive in an environment that was so foreign to all she'd ever known. It would've made more logical sense to fall for him instead of the wizard who disappointed her at every step. Love, it seemed, was an emotion that didn't require sense.