He thought not? Tig's lip curled with annoyance. Comparing her to a child was almost equally offensive but it wasn't the first time he'd done so. Why was he always so difficult? The thought of telling a vague version of the truth occurred to her, she thought that might be enough to get what she wanted out of him but what if he quizzed her further? There were simply too many negatives in telling him everything. Now that she'd just ruined her chance of brewing the potion tonight she'd have to wait another month; what if something went wrong again and she took even longer and he thought she was struggling? What if he beat her to it? Worst of all - what if she actually turned into a goose? If that was the case she fully intended to pretend as though she'd never even bothered trying to become an animagus.

Now that she'd swallowed the damn leaf she had another month to obtain the last ingredient, but he was flat out refusing her which meant getting one from him was now the only option she would consider.

Taking a deep breath in, Tig tried to compose herself despite the still smarting pain in her toe and the urge to indulge her frustration. "Fine, don't think of it as a gift, think of it as a trade. In exchange for the moth, I'll go away." She didn't think it was the most compelling argument she had ever made but she didn't want to offer him anything she didn't want to give. Her scowl suddenly abated. "Unless you're being difficult because you know I'll leave as soon as you give it to me and what you really want is to spend time with me..." Tig didn't believe in what she was suggesting for a second but he didn't know that. "You could've just asked me to stay if that's what you wanted."

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That remark actually elicited a genuine eye roll from Tiberius. "If I wanted to see you, I would know damn well how to find you," he responded dryly. He wasn't actually sure when they'd last had a conversation. He hadn't visited her bedroom since the night that he'd taken one of the girls away. She hadn't visited his since he'd agreed to bring her back, conditionally. That might very well have been the last meaningful conversation they'd had, but the fact hadn't occurred to him until that moment. He was hardly craving her company.

"Get out," he said with a dismissive wave towards the door. "Go to bed."

  

Why couldn't she have had a cooperative husband, or at least one she could manipulate easier? Tig huffed. After a slight pause, she crossed the room to where he kept a couch and unceremoniously flopped down upon it and lay there with her feet perched on an arm. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Tiberius." Honestly, she didn't care anymore about the damn potion ingredient but she wasn't going to let him dismiss her to bed like that. "I've got all night and I'm suddenly feeling very patient." Was he irritated yet? Had she gotten under his skin? If she was going to walk away empty handed then was at least going to leave knowing she'd tortured him sufficiently in return. "Have you ever noticed how comfortable this couch is?"

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"Unfortunately for you," Tiberius began, temper beginning to rise slightly at her continued arrogance and unwillingness to just get out of the study and go the fuck to sleep. "I have much less patience and am not feeling very indulgent towards your little game. You may leave," he said, his tone stiffening into something of a threat. "Or I can make you leave. I can guarantee you would find the former far more enjoyable."

  

Had there ever been a possibility of her heeding his threat and going while the going was good, it was gone now. After swallowing the leaf and losing a month of progress, she didn't give a damn. She probably ought to. He was clearly irritated but it wasn't the sort of irritable reaction she was looking for to her own surprise. She could feel her mood plummet before he'd even finished speaking. "Can you now?" There was a hint of acidity in her voice. "I don't care. Do what you like." Tig couldn't explain why she suddenly felt so self-destructive but she did know that there was nothing she could possibly do to make herself get up and leave of her own volition before she found out whether or not he'd make good on the threat. She raised a hand to her mouth and started chew idly on her thumbnail. She felt off in some way that she couldn't fathom.

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That was the last straw, her chewing on her fingernail. He couldn't have articulated why the gestured bothered him so much, and particularly why it bothered him so much more than her words or her other gestures up until this point, but he felt as though his blood was positively boiling. Without saying a word, he pulled his wand out of his pocket and crossed to the desk. He wrapped his left hand around her wrist and pulled her hand away from her mouth, then dragged her towards the door. He had his wand ready in case she put up much of a fight, but he wasn't anticipating it — she was smaller than him, younger than him, and particularly since her last pregnancy, weaker than him.

He didn't have a free hand to use on the study door, when he reached it, so he flung it open with a particularly violent spell that left the wall rattling from where the door knob had struck it. Upon reaching the doorway he pulled her wrist forward and hurled his wife out the door. He wasn't paying enough attention to his aim to know whether he'd sent her sprawling towards the wall across the hall, the nearby staircase down towards the parlor and kitchens, or only to the floor at his feet, but at the moment he honestly wouldn't have cared much either way.

  

Her hand was suddenly yanked away from her face as his hand fastened firmly around her wrist. Apparently was going to make good on his threat. She found this oddly satisfying, even as he dragged her - not that she was resisting in the slightest - to the door and threw her out. She hit the wall opposite and, as she fought to keep her balance, felt an unwelcome wrenching sensation in her gut that caused her to face to grow hot. She lost the war of balance in that split second and ended up on the floor. In that moment she was incredibly relieved to have her back to him.

The indignity of the situation had something of a sobering effect but her face still felt as though she was radiating the heat of a thousand suns. She go back to her feet in silence and, still facing the wall, pressed her forehead against it and let out a peal of almost hysterical laughter. Purposely avoiding looking back towards him, she turned and started for the stairs that would take her back to her room. The feeling that something wasn't quite right only intensified.

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