36 Hours had been spent within the Ministry of Magic. It was one of the longest shifts Edward Pratt had pulled and he’d been as eager as an excited pixie to get home to his wife and dog and collapse on the sofa with a cold beer, ready to put the shift behind him. He would roll into bed at 10 and sleep through to the morning to come back in and start all over again.

But it had been worth it. When Ed had come into work at 7 on Wednesday, he hadn’t exactly been hopeful about his team getting a step closer to finding Lawrence Musgrave. It had been another day in a long search for a wizard that didn’t want to be found. Now, the following evening, he left the ministry feeling more confident.

The question still refused to leave his head. Why did Musgrave hand himself over? There was a trick, a plan. But 36 hours of work with no sleep wasn’t the best time to try and figure out what this presumed plan might be.

Now arriving home, something was very different. Ed stood at the edge of the garden path and started to take down the wards that should have been on the house. Or at least he tried to.
It was impossible to remove what wasn’t already there.

His gaze found the windows of the cottage to see no lights on inside.

Immediately, the auror was alert, wand raised as he continued up the garden path to the front door. It was opened with a quick charm and Winston bound at him, barking and excited to have his master return. It took the next five minutes to carefully check every room in the house for an intruder, half expecting to find his wife lying in a puddle of blood on the floor.

But he was alone. She’d failed to put the wards up when she’d left that morning.

Half an hour later, the wizard, too exhausted to change out of his now extremely well worn work shirt and trousers, was lying on the sofa with a beer in his hand and the fluffy dog lying on his feet. His shirt was rolled up scruffily at the sleeves, a few of the buttons undone. his hair was a dishevelled mess and the glasses propped on his nose signalled a lack of potions taken in the past few hours. He tensed when he heard the front door and his wand was back in his hand. It was dark in the living room but Ed’s eyes had adjusted and he could see his wife in the doorframe.

“I expected to see yer bloody corpse when I walked in, woman.” His tone was harsh, biting.

It’d been a busy morning.  Alina hadn’t been due at the pitch until the afternoon for a traning session, but she’d gotten an owl that one of their chasers had been sent to Mungo’s for a bad fall and they didn’t know the extent of the injuries or if Quiggins would be playing again for the rest of the season.  The rogue bludger had certainly done a number on her, at least that’s what the owl had said. 

Alina rushed out of the house, bag and broom in tow and made her way to the hospital without a second thought.  Of course, once she arrived there were a slew of thoughts she needed to organize.  The whole ordeal left them without a first string chaser and then a very full afternoon of training their replacement player to be even half decent to take over for Quiggins. 

By the time Alina had even glanced at her watch, it was much later than she anticipated and under the bright lights of the pitch, it hadn’t registered how late it was.  She didn’t even know when Ed would be home anyhow.  Outside of a poorly scrawled note, she didn’t have much to go on.  His job was unpredictable like that, and unless she received notice from Mungo’s or one of his colleagues, she generally assumed he was doing fine. 

Besides, from the sounds of it, he was really doing quite a bit of the administrative work.  It was comforting, from the position of a wife, really.  So, she made her way from the pitch to pack up her bag and head home.  The promise of a warm bath after a very long day made her very unwilling to stick around and yammer on with her players and the other coaches. 

She apparated outside of the boundaries as usual and hefted her bag over her shoulder as she made her way inside.  The lights were on downstairs and she smiled to herself.  It’d be the first time in two days she’d seen him.  Rather than a warm greeting she might have expected, she walked into a very surly Edward Pratt, looking worse for wear on so many levels. 

“Hello to you too,” she dropped her bag and broom by the door, pressing her palms into her lower back to stretch.  “What are you talking about?”

M for bad language used by Mr Pratt

“Wards.” The auror grumbled after a long gulp of a rapidly draining beer. Arguments between Ed and Ali were were, if nonexsistent. She was the easy going and relaxed person that put up well with the hours and stresses of the Head Auror. She didn’t nag him, she didn’t push him. She was there at home to be the gorgeous and caring wife he needed. She’d not sent him an irritated message about not seeing him in two days, she knew the drill.

But this was different. Ed pulled his feet from under Winston, eliciting a groan from the dog. He was sat up straight and the lights in the living room came to life so he could take a better look the wife he never argued with.

“Those pesky spells I’ve set up around this house to keep my wife and kids safe.” His tired green eyes didn’t pull away from her, his gaze was intense. “You know that thing that just takes ten seconds, if that, to put up? Ye couldn’t be fucking bothered.”

Alina blinked blankly at him.  Wards?  The word didn’t ring a bell for a moment… She didn’t try to come up short… it was just even after being in England for this long, sometimes the English words… it took more than a moment to process.  It felt like that seemed to agitate her husband further and he leaned forward, looking as though he was going to scold a child and not talk to his wife. 

Her eyebrows shot up as he explained himself – staring at her like she was across the interrogation table from him.  Forgetting a ward was not an offense against the ministry of magic.  It made her hackles raise a little bit, to be perfectly honest.

Without thinking, she closed off her body language, folding her arms under her chest.  “Do not swear at me, Edward Pratt,” she cautioned first.  If he did it again he would likely regret it.  Perhaps not in the form of a hex or a curse, but he might have to go sleep on one of the children’s beds in their absence.  “Your wife and children weren’t home, it was a simple mistake.”  She didn’t see how it was that big of a deal.  “An emergency happened at practice, I had to leave unexpectedly.” 

The order to not swear at her was ignored. Ed was already seeing red, irate at his wife’s severe lack of thought to the security of their family home.

“And if you came back to something?” The wizard remained sat, but his elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forwards, glaring at the witch. “Ye left our house unprotected when there’s a bucket load of people that would love to kill me or someone I love.” She’d known this when they married. She’d known this when she’d moved in with him. She knew his job, the risks. It made his furious that she couldn’t respect his very real worries.

“What sort of emergency at Quidditch practice could possibly mean you should put your life or mine at risk?” Her job was spoken with disdain, the wizard believing there could be no real emergency. As much as he loved Quidditch, he was quite convinced her job was easy, simple, safe.

“I did come back to something,” Alina returned with a sour expression, “you!”  She flung her hands out, gesticulating wildly at him.  “And what a prize that is today!” she added sarcastically.  Alina did not enjoy being talked down to: she was very aware of the risks of being his wife and living here.  Eddie had never been secretive about the risks that were associated with his career, and certainly hadn’t sugar coated it when she decided to relocate to England and take a job with the Cannons. 

She had never begrudged him anything about it.  She didn’t complain, she didn’t nag, and she certainly didn’t scream at him about it.  He did not extend her the same courtesy however. 

Her frown deepened at his dismissal of the dangers of her career.  “Quiggins almost snapped his neck!” she informed him, “they thought he was paralyzed.”  It seemed like an emergency to her, something that could end a career and completely change the trajectory of a life.  “Or is that not important enough for you?” 

“And you were the only one that could save him? Don’t give me that bollocks!” The wizard sniped back before he would put his brain in gear. He was angry with her, angry with himself, just angry. Finally, having got Britain’s most wanted in a cell in the Headquarters should have made the wizard happy, glad to come back to his wife at home. But one tiny thing had set off the tired and grouchy wizard and for the first time since she’d moved in with him, she’d been the one to have it.

“Shit,” The auror suddenly muttered, staring at his wife who had done nothing more than leave in a rush to see an injured colleague. “I’m a bastard…” he shook his head, instantly calming and looking more deflated than angry. He’d overstepped the line and blown up over something that could have happened. But she knew his history, she knew what had happened in this very room.

Without another pause, the beer bottle was placed on the table and Ed rose from the sofa, stepping towards Ali.
“Is he ok now, Quiggins?” He wouldn’t apologise in the sense of saying the words, Ed never did. But his entire manner had changed, his calmer face now revealing the dark circles under his eyes and the worry lines of hours awake under stress.

Alina could not believe what her husband was saying.  She knew he had a temper; it wasn’t something she had been blind to when they got married, but he’d never been malicious.  At least not to her.  That, however, was a downright dirty sort of comment that Alina could not believe he had even uttered to her. 

So, she did not move.  He could look as sorry as he wanted, but her feet were rooted to the ground.  Simple mistakes were one thing, but downright nastiness was another.  “You are,” she answered his self-assessment passionlessly.  It was a fact at the moment that he was, indeed, a bastard.  It was good that he said, or he might have forced her hand and made her. 

Even as he approached, Alina made the conscious choice to stay in her spot.  He looked remorseful, and she knew he wasn’t the type to say he was sorry, but he needed to feel it, and perhaps he wasn’t entirely there yet.  “He’s in Mungo’s,” Alina’s voice softened, just slightly.  “Hasn’t woken up yet, so it’s hard to tell. He won’t be playing for a bit though,” she added, glancing up at him with a judgmental, set line for her mouth.  He wasn’t the only one who had risks associated with his job, they were just different and meant very different things for the people participating. 

“You are,” Despite Ed having said it first, Ali’s agreement further irked her husband. But he said nothing, simply pretty his lips together top stop himself saying anything more. When they’d gotten married, Ed had promised himself that it wouldn’t be like last time. Him and Quincy had gone to blows about everything. Their entire relationship had felt sustained on arguments and anger. It wasn’t healthy for two people to be consistently taking blows out of each other.

Yet here he was, taking his anger and tiredness out on the one person that he really shouldn’t.

“Best place for him.” Ed muttered, decided now that he needed to ignore her irritation and his lingering anger. He could simmer down as quickly as he got mad and he full well knew that he’d crossed the line.

Without caring much if she wanted it, Ed slipped his arms around his wife’s waist, pulling her close.
“I shouldn’t have said that.” His eyes drew her gaze, frowning. “I have the ministry’s most wanted wizard in my holding cells right now and I’m certain it’s a trap. Let my guard down and something happens. I came home to no wards on our house and thought anything could have happened to you.”

“This bastard tries to control dementors. Do you know what that means?” His tone wasn’t patronising, it was calm but concerned. Edward Pratt was a paranoid and suspicious wizard. His job had forced him to be no less.

 As irritated as she was with him, Alina did not resist having his arm slip about her waist.  The warmth of him was comforting, and though he still didn’t outwardly apologize, the admittance of any wrongdoing at all was a step forward. 

Humming in agreement, she shifted her weight against him and snaked one arm up to go around his neck.  She was only mildly thankful that they were both overworked and smelt of it; otherwise this would have been very unpleasant for both of them. 

She let her shoulders relax and nodded as she took in what he was saying.  There were congratulations in order, of course.  That was an accomplishment to be certain, but one that he would not ready to consider a win.  Eddie couldn’t just let himself enjoy something like that.  His paranoia was too strong for that. 

Of course, optimism on her end ended quickly when he explained further: controlling dementors?  Alina did not know that was even possible.  “It can’t mean anything good,” she answered reasonabley.  She might have been as stubborn as him, but since he had accepted some responsibility first, she’d reward him with more understanding and a softer expression. 

“But at least his in custody?” she offered, “and perhaps he was unsuccessful?” 

Yes, he was in custody, at least, “And under a twenty-four-hour watch.” The wizard muttered, looking down at his wife who he’d pulled close. It wasn’t fair of him to take out his frustration on her, her knew this. He’d worked hard to stop himself doing it but tiredness had won. And hunger. He really needed a decent meal that didn’t come out of the ministry’s subpar canteen.

“We don’t know how successful yet.” and that was about all he could tell her. It was hard, being unable to come home and share what had happened during his day like she did. He could tell stories, funny things about colleagues or that his superiors had pissed him off. But details? They were nearly always a no-go area. Perhaps that was for the best.

A brief sigh escaped his lips before he leaned down and brushed his against hers in a soft kiss.

“Miss me last night?” He asked, forcing a grin onto his lips to replace the frown. “Don’t go getting’ used to the bed to yerself. I didn’t agree to marry a snoring bed hog.” With that, he released her, gave her a pat on the ass, grabbed his beer off the coffee table and made his way towards the kitchen, Winston at his heels.