The next morning, Hermione realized that Barty had not returned to their bed that night. She did blame herself for that partly, since she hadn't been exactly nice to him last night. But still, it did worry her in a strange way. Even though it was her fault that he didn't sleep with her, it didn't feel right that she had been sleeping alone. That she had to wake up without his hand on her swollen belly to give her a safe feeling.

During breakfast, her worries grew even more. He did give her a kiss as soon as he saw her, but something was off. Hermione realized how nervous one of the kitchen girls was acting when she was serving their food, but she decided to dismiss it. However, when Barty gave her a smirk when she served him some new bread, her suspicions were confirmed.

"Did you sleep with her?" she hissed, when the girl was out of hearing distance.

"I would never cheat on you," Barty said innocently, raising his eyebrows. "It's not my fault you didn't want to pleasure me. You were the one who told me to take care of it myself. So I did. But I never slept with her."

"You liar, look at her, the look on her face," Hermione growled. "You disgust me."

"Hey, come on now, I just told you, I would never cheat on you. I didn't sleep with her."

Hermione opened her mouth again to argue, but then the girl entered the room again with fresh eggs, and she couldn't elaborate on the topic. But Barty did. He beckoned the girl, who looked at him nervously, clearly not sure if she should come over or not.

"Come sit down, pretty thing. Why are you so nervous? No need for that," Barty said, stretching out his hand as an invitation. "We need to clear a couple of things up for her Ladyship."

The Muggle girl looked at him slightly scared, but she took his outstretched hand. Barty pulled her towards him and he sat her down in his lap.

"Please tell my wife what happened last night," he purred in her ear.

The kitchen maid looked at him nervously before looking at Hermione.

"M-master Crouch came to the kitchens last night, ma'am. He wanted to know about Mr. Anderson, ma'am," she said with a small voice.

"Did I come to you for sex or not?"

"N-no, sir," she replied.

"See?" Barty said to Hermione. "Since I had the whole evening for my own, I started to think some more about Anderson. And I realized that he had probably not been operating on his own. I think that he had help from the inside, that he has been busy trying to set up my own servants against me. So I asked my little maid here to find that out for me. To find out who has been involved in the plans of Anderson. Of course, I could have just asked Anderson, or I could have questioned the servants personally, but this is way quicker. Don't you think?"

"I suppose," Hermione said, though her throat went dry the moment she thought of her conversation with Paul. She didn't want the servants to be in any form of danger. "But they are no threat to you. Why do you want them, isn't Kyle enough?"

"They can form a threat. If they work together, well organized, then they can become a problem. And I don't fear for myself, I fear for you. One of them may sneak up on you and use a knife or something and you won't be quick enough."

"That could happen to you, too."

"Yeah. But I am not pregnant. Anyways, if they start to feel that they stand a chance against us, I will take them out. If that means I need to hire new staff, then so be it. But any potential rebel will be murdered. Brutally," he said before looking back at the maid who was trembling heavily. "So... where are my names?"

"I- I haven't been able t-to get a lot of n-names, s-sir," she said so quietly that Barty had to lean in even closer to hear her properly. "J-just two."

"Well, then. Tell me."

"It's Mary, from the kitchens, and Bernard, from the cleaning," the girl answered obediently.

"Good... Very good... Well. Now, I can't let you go like this, can I?" Barty said to the maid, while tightening his grip around her waist so that she could not escape.

"Barty, please... Obliviate her if you must, but please, don't kill her," Hermione intervened.

"Oh, I didn't even intend to. That would be such a waste, wouldn't it? And obedient servants are already hard to find. No... I've got other plans for you, dear," Barty growled, and suddenly Hermione realized that he had a knife in his right hand that was now pressing against the girl's throat. "You will serve as a warning for the others. This is what happens when they don't obey their master. They won't be able to run away from here, so don't even bother telling them to run and hide. The conspirators will be caught, every single one of them, and the rest of them will be given a last chance. If they ruin their chance... they will end up like you."

He slid the blade of the knife across her skin, forming a line from her chin to her chest. Then he did the same horizontally, from her left to her right shoulder. He was extremely slow in doing so, resulting in the most horrible screams from the maid.

"Stop screaming, you annoy me," Barty hissed, cutting even deeper in her flesh. "And you don't want to do that. Your master will become very nasty if you do..."

"Barty! Please, stop this... I think your message is clear now. I am trying to eat breakfast here!" Hermione protested.

"My love... I am having so much fun," Barty replied, his knife now cutting the maid's face.

"Well, I am not. And I am already nauseous. So please, stop being so sadistic and leave that innocent girl alone," Hermione snapped. "I thought you were going to listen to me from now on?"

"Ugh, you are such a spoil sport, darling. Fine, fine," he sighed, throwing the girl off his lap. He raised his knife again, keeping it ready for a next attack. "Should I just finish her off then?"

The maid shrunk and protected her face with her arms, afraid of what would come next.

"No!" Hermione shouted. "Of course not! Leave her. Your message is clear enough. Go play with those conspirators later if you must, when I am not in the room."

"Right, then. Your Lady has spoken, little thing," Barty said, looking down at the maid. "I expect you to spread this message. If you don't, and if I don't see my inferiors looking at me with fear in their eyes... I will come back to you. And then I won't be so nice to you anymore."

"Y-yes, s-sir," she said shakily. Then she stood up quickly and she ran to the door, escaping the room as quickly as she could.

"I should have cut off one ear, or-" Barty started grumpily.

"No, you shouldn't have," Hermione objected. "Is this what happens to you when I leave you on your own for one night?"

"This wasn't too bad, was it?"

"You know that I don't approve. And it was completely unnecessary. These servants are already terrified of you. They know what we are and what we can do. Without Kyle, they wouldn't dare to stand up against us."

"I want to see blood, Hermione. Blood of those who betray us," he growled, smashing the blade of the knife into the table in anger. "I want to see them suffer, and they will suffer. They will tremble at my feet. And they will die. I won't accept disloyalty."

Hermione involuntarily shifted away from him when she heard the growing anger in his voice. This was escalating. So she placed her hand on his, even though his hand was still covered in blood.

"Calm down now, Barty," she told him calmly. "You can summon Mary and Bernard, confront them with this, but nothing else. Make them clear that you know that they have been disloyal, and then be merciful. Give them a second chance. But don't hurt them."

"But I want to... I need to," he whined, almost sounding like a spoiled child now.

"I know, and that's your problem," Hermione said carefully, now taking his other hand in hers as well. "You see something you don't like and you become bloodthirsty. You do things like- like this. I think you need to take your mind off things, you should take me somewhere. Just the two of us, you and me, no Kyle, no servants."

"Hmm."

"Please listen to me this time, love. The war is over, you have everything you could wish for. After the Dark Lord, you are the most powerful man in this country," she said, squeezing his hands softly before adding, "but I don't like this version of you."

"What version?" Barty asked confused.

"This murderous and vengeful you," Hermione explained. "I have grown used to your mood swings and to your extreme outbursts, but that doesn't mean it's something I've grown to love about you. I love it when you take care of me, when you pay me attention, when you protect me. That's the Barty I married. Not the crazy and dangerous lunatic."

"Well... That's too bad then, cause I happen to be both. And finding traitors and killing them is my work, really. I need to protect us and the Dark Lord," Barty said. "But... If my wife so wishes, then I shall have to take her on a date. Although I was under the impression that you didn't want my attention anymore after last night."

"I was angry with you. You know that," Hermione snapped.

"Well then, this time, I shall listen to you and try not to hurt our Mary and Bernard. Alright? Will that make you happy?"

"Very."

"Good. Now... You may even choose the location of our date... If you give me a kiss," Barty said now playfully.

"Okay..." Hermione grinned, standing up only to sit down again in Barty's lap. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him softly on the mouth. "I'm sorry about last night. You know, the bed really felt colder without you being there."

"Apologies accepted, love," Barty smiled. "You can make it up to me tonight. So... Where does my queen want to go today?"

"Well, if my king doesn't find it too barbaric, then I would like to take him to a musical," Hermione replied, smiling back against his lips.

"Your wish is my command, darling."

"At least most Muggles do not know who we are, so that will help you relax. And musicals are fun!"

"I wouldn't know, I'm a Pureblood, remember? Besides, my parents only ever took me to intellectual wizard theatre or concerts, never something that was actually entertaining."

"Lucky you've got me then," Hermione said, stroking his shoulders. "Now get a shower, you're covered in blood."

"So are you now, love," Barty grinned. "If you join me, we will be finished showering sooner. Then we can go out sooner."

"You devious- alright then," Hermione laughed. "Let's go."

She took his hand and she led him the way to the bathroom. And even though it was the plan to leave early and to have lunch somewhere else, it took them almost two hours to get showered and dressed. Because of course, Barty couldn't keep his hands off Hermione, which made it take them longer than it should have. But eventually they got dressed and they were ready to leave. They apparated to London, since Hermione insisted on going to the West End. Of course there would be people who would recognize the couple, both magical and non magical folk, but they decided to ignore that for as much as they could. Especially during lunch they saw that a lot of people were staring at them, but that stopped the moment Barty decided to stare back at them. After lunch, Barty wanted to pay for them both, only he had to do that in Muggle currency. And he had no idea where to start.

"That's 42 pounds and 65 pence please, sir," the waitress said without looking too nervously.

Barty took out a purse with Muggle money, which Hermione had given him since she insisted on bringing some with them. After all, they could hardly pay Muggles with Galleons. So Barty emptied the purse on the table and he started staring at it. He looked so confused that it was almost adorable. So Hermione decided to help him.

"You'll need notes, love. These coins aren't worth that much."

"Notes? Oh, you mean these pieces of paper? Can you pay with those?" he asked, taking some notes out of his pocket.

"Yes, and then you'll need the amount of forty. So you've got two of twenty here..." she pointed at two of the notes, "and then the rest you can pay with coins."

"Okay... So... What are these strangely shaped coins?" he asked pointing at the 50p coins.

"That's 50 pence, and these here... With the same shape but then smaller, they are worth 20 pence. But you'll need this one, two pounds," she explained patiently, showing him the largest coin.

"Oh, and then this one with that funny shaped one..." he said taking one of 50p and one of 10p, "and here's a bronze one that says 5."

"See? You're learning quickly! That's it! Although, in the Muggle world, it is common to tip the waitress, for the service, you know. So most of the time we give them a higher amount and they can keep the chance," Hermione explained.

"So why am I doing all this then?! I could have just given her fifty in one note!" Barty said indignantly.

"Yes, but you looked so cute, trying to handle Muggle money, I couldn't deny myself that pleasure," Hermione teased, while Barty took a fifty pound note.

He gave it to the waitress, who had been waiting patiently the entire time, and she muttered out a 'thank you'. Hermione doubted if she was used to getting such high tips, but she wasn't going to tell Barty that. She was already proud that he behaved so well around Muggles, even though she knew that he was holding back. It wasn't really his favorite thing to do, being amongst the in his eyes inferior kind of people. If it wasn't for her, he would never had come here in the first place. He would never even have had the decency to treat Muggles with respect.

"I am not cute," Barty growled when the waitress was gone.

"Yes you are," Hermione smiled.

"Ugh, why did you make me do this," Barty groaned. "I could have just walked away and no one would have dared to stop us."

"I know, but that wouldn't be fair. They prepare you food, you give them money for it in return. Look, I know that in other circumstances you would only have been too happy to burn this place to the ground for those Muggles just staring at you, I know that, but I love that you are doing this for me. And doesn't it feel a tiny bit good? That you treat those Muggles with respect?" Hermione asked.

"No."

"Oh, come on, they are human being, too. Just like you and me. Maybe we should do things like this more often, then you will see they aren't that bad. And then you'll earn respect through kindness, not through fear," Hermione said.

"You know that's never going to work, love. And weren't you the one who wanted to earn respect through fear as well when you murdered Parkinson?" Barty countered.

"I never killed innocent people," Hermione defended herself. "And I think these Muggles are already scared enough, there's no reason for you to be either ride or violent. They will throw themselves at your feet anyways."

"Exactly, but only because they are scared. Not because they think I am their hero," Barty said. "What do you think would happen if I ask a Muggle to murder someone for me nicely? For example."

"What kind of example is that. Of course they wouldn't do that just like that."

"Exactly my point... I'd have to threaten them. Only then they will do what I want them to do."

"I think they are already so scared of you that they would do it even if you asked them nicely," Hermione said quietly. "You wouldn't have to threaten them."

"Indeed... Because we rule through fear... Do you want me to test it?"

"No, you don't have to-"

"WAITRESS!"

The waitress came over to them quickly, almost falling over her own feet.

"Yes, sir?" she said politely.

"Could you please throw everyone out for me?" Barty asked with a sweet smile Hermione had never really seen on him.

"Of course, sir, anything you ask," the waitress replied, and she wanted to turn around to obey his command.

"Wait. Anything, you say?" Barty asked, his eyes full of mischief. "What about if I ask you to murder your colleague over there, would you do that?"

"I- I- couldn't possibly-"

"Oh, come on, it's not that hard. You have plenty of knives here. And I am asking you nicely."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief when she saw that the waitress didn't do immediately what he asked from her.

"You see, Hermione, it doesn't work the nice way," Barty whispered to her.

"Of course not, because you freaking ask her to murder someone," Hermione hissed.

"Ooh, I like this game..." Barty said before turning his attention back to the waitress. "Would you murder him if I asked you less nicely?"

"I- I am not a murderer, sir, with all respect, I c-couldn't..."

"If you don't do what I say, I'll burn this whole place down with everyone inside. No survivors. And that will include you. So... Your choice. What will it be?"

Now the waitress looked really frightened, but she took a knife from the table nonetheless.

"Stop," Hermione ordered. "Stop this. Put the knife back. My husband was only joking, weren't you, darling?"

"Hmm, not really," Barty laughed, scaring the girl even more.

"You proved your point, now let's get out of here before you get too much fun," Hermione hissed.

"Fine, fine, but you saw it, we need fear to make order work. Only through fear, people will do what you want," Barty grinned.

Something told Hermione that those words should worry her, but somehow, they didn't. If her husband went too far, she could always stop him. And besides, he did have a point. People would only do what you want and bear the consequences of it if they were afraid something far worse could happen to them. Fear was indeed an effective tool for power.