Wrapped Around Heaven
My first Harry Potter fan fiction. I'm a big Viktor/Hermione shipper so I love these two.
This is a Post-War fiction set in Bulgaria.
Hermione awoke to find herself in a bed so big her toes couldn't reach the bottom of it. She found the air much cooler than in England and she snuggled into the various patchwork quilts and blankets on the bed, her eyes still shut. She eventually peeked one eye open and saw a peaceful peach coloured room. She opened her other eye and saw the bed she was lying in was wooden, sweet wood. The last thing she remembered were the cold fingers of soon death sweeping her body and pulling her away from her boys. Her eyes shut once more. She smelt the bittersweet scent of autumn. Of things coming to end with a promise of new life. Then she heard the soft swish of fabric on flesh and feels the weight of someone on the bed.
And then she knows where she is when the scent of the person meets her. The thick scent of dry smoke and copper and snow in winter – that was his scent. He reminds her of the promise of winter, of the sky blue flames she conjured and of the Goblet, of the sweetness of homemade fudge, her first present to him in the fourth year and of the feel of softly carved wood of the necklace he gave her.
"We won." He said, whispering softly. She feels safe and at home.
"Go back to sleep." He said, his lips brushing her forehead. She wanted to ask about Harry and Ron and her comrades but she knew he would tell her and if anything serious had happened, he would've told her. She closed her eyes gratefully and fell back into the safe embrace of sleep.
7-7-7
The sound of bare feet brushing a rug near her made Hermione stir from a vivid dream about flying on the back of a Hungarian Horntail. She sat up and Viktor sat on the edge of his bed again and he handed her a thick bowl of soup. She smelt the enriching smell of chicken and without a moment's hesitation took the bowl. She took a tentative mouthful and then her stomach growled in awakening of slumber. She ate slowly but determinedly until she was chewing splinters. Then Viktor passed her a small glass of something warm orange and she sipped it.
"What happened, Viktor?" She asked him.
There was a silence before he answered her. "Everyone is fine. There were only a few casualties on our side. Voldemort is destroyed. Harry is fine and Ron only broke his leg." He said, his English having improved.
"That's good." She said. There was silence with Viktor looking at the floor. "Why's it so cold?"
"Well, it's winter here in Bulgaria. In England, it's like a summeer holiday. With snow." Viktor joked and they laughed before silence dropped like a bucket of cold water on both of them.
"When do you plan to go back to England?" He asked her.
"Not yet. I want to stay here." Viktor's face brightened and then his strong, muscular, calloused and olive-skinned hands brushed against her bony ones.
7-7-7
Hermione started padding around Viktor's home. He had bought her some clothes and in her brand new long-sleeved designer tee shirt that warmed her upper body like a dream and a pair of gorgeous dark blue jeans, she sat on the large sofa, still surrounded by thick scarlet blankets and silk quilts with red and gold pillows are scattered all over. The huge fireplace is a blaze with unusually blue flames. They remind Hermione of the Goblet of Fire, its blue fire had selected Viktor to be Durmstrang Triwizard Champion. The cold climate in Bulgaria still had her shivering.
Viktor emerged from the kitchen and handed her a cup of tea. He brought himself a cup of tea and a bowl of Every Flavour Beans. He sat down on the couch opposite her and together they sipped.
"It's a very nice place you have Viktor." She said. He smiled vaguely.
"Yes, it is my mother's."
"Oh, where is she?"
"She-she died…along with my father…"
Oh God did Hermione feel uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be…they died together as they wanted and they died against Voldemort." Viktor gave a sad smile and Hermione clutched his hand with her own. Viktor felt a massive flush of heat go through his body at the familiar touch. He flushed as red as the blankets. Hermione saw this. Viktor Krum had been a Triwizard Champion and Bulgarian Seeker and yet after four and a half years of knowledge of each other, he was still scared of offending her and she found that so endearing.
She flicked a pink bean at him. He jokingly feigned shock and horror and flicked a pale green at her until they were engaging in a full scale Every Flavour Bean war which resulted in Viktor tackling Hermione into the sofa.
It was the most fun Hermione had had in ages.
7-7-7
Hermione opened the cupboard and checked again as if the things she wanted would lose their invisibility and appear to her. She sighed in exasperation, not too loudly as to not wake Viktor who was napping in the couch, a thick fur blanket over him.
"Where are those bloody bowls?"
"They're in the second cupboard on the left, next to the cereal." Viktor mumbled and Hermione froze like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Thanks." She mumbled, finding the bowls.
"What are you doing?" He asked, propping himself up on one shoulder. He looked so sexy, his hair all sleep-ruffled, his chocolate brown eyes bright and gazing at her in surprise.
"I'm making you something." She said, finding an apron on a hook.
"What?"
"Wait and see. Now go and get some sleep and let me burn down your kitchen." Viktor grinned and crawled deeper under the quilt, keeping one eye on Hermione until he fell asleep.
When he awoke, Hermione was sitting cross-legged with her creation on a plate on the breakfast table, covered with a silver cover for mysterious effect.
She grinned when she saw he was awake and she got up from her position in the chair and grabbed the plate.
"Voila!" She said, lifting the cover. It was a warm golden coloured ginger cake in the shape of a dome with white icing on the top. However, the most spectacular thing about the top of the cake were the enchanted figures that populated the cake. There was a little lamppost which really glowed and a unicorn which galloped with its friends. There was a small dragon which was the Chinese Fireball dragon figure he had kept since the Triwizard Tournament, breathing harmless flames into the air and then six knights, one in red with a gold lion (Gryffindor), one in green with a silver serpent (Slytherin), one in deep blue with a bronze eagle (Ravenclaw), one in yellow with a black badger (Hufflepuff), one with the Hogwarts crest and the last one with the Durmstrang symbol on. A few children were playing a Quidditch match on brooms; a leprechaun and a Veela were fighting; a replica of Honeydukes was sat near the centre of the cake, next to a group of four witches in scarlet (Fire), sky blue (Water), emerald (Earth) and canary yellow (Air) robes near a cauldron, using their elemental powers to make a potion; and to top it off, a Bulgarian flag moved in a non-existent breeze and every few seconds it had the words 'Go Krum, Go!" on it.
"It almost looks to good to be eaten." Viktor said. Hermione pulled out a magical camera and took a photo off it, before grabbing a knife and carving a large slice, causing the characters to run out of its way.
7-7-7
Hermione was back in bed, reading something from Viktor's personal library. That was one of the things they had in common – their love of books. They often talked about their taste in books.
She was reading Walt Whitman poetry when Viktor waked. He surprisingly wore a pair of wire thin spectacles for reading. They sat delicately on his broken nose.
"Whitman?"
"Yes. Christian Andersen?" He nodded and they laughed. Viktor loved the Fairy Tales.
"What's your favourite fairy tale, Viktor?" Hermione asked her finger in place of a bookmark.
"The Tin Soldier. With the little man of metal and the paper girl. And you?"
"Beauty and the Beast."
"I've never heard of it. How does it go?"
"You don't know Beauty and the Beast? Not even the Disney one?" He shook his head and Hermione, surprised,invited Viktor sit on the bed. He did so and Hermione began her favourite fairy tale.
"And there are two versions to the end of the tale after the Prince is wounded by Beauty's evil suitor. The "Disney" version is where she cries over him and her tears change him into a handsome prince and they live happily ever after. The one I love is the one where she cries over him and he is brought back to life. He doesn't turn into a prince because she fell in love with him as a Beast and being handsome doesn't mean a great relationship." She took a deep breath and Viktor saw the flush of pink in her cheeks.
"Why do you like that ending?"
"Well, the Beast and Beauty fall in love with him being ugly and why should their love deepen with him being attractive." Viktor looked down at the bedspread and Hermione suddenly understood. He thought he wasn't handsome enough. He still cared about her a lot. He loved her. He had cared for her.
Then maybe she loved him too. She pulled him by the collar of the Bulgarian style tee shirt he wore and pulled into a kiss. It wasn't perfect, the books they had been reading poked them in the sides and their foreheads smacked together and they wouldn't have it any other way.
7-7-7
Viktor kept his head down as they wandered through the Hogsmeade area. He kept protectively behind Hermione as she fought her way to The Three Broomsticks.
They easily got a room from Madam Rosmerta and then Viktor Apparated them up to Hogwarts. They had agreed to visit Harry and Ron and Ginny in the Gryffindor Common Room.
Viktor and Hermione trudged up the steps, letting the warmth from the torches and when they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she instantly recognised both of them and laughed, "Hello, you two! It's been such a long time." She let them in and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief at the warm reds and oranges and golden hues of the Common Room, the roaring fireplace, the talking, sleepy portraits.
Ron and Harry hurtled out of the armchairs they'd been sitting in and leapt towards Hermione, engulfing her in their arms. She was with her boys, the golden trio.
The four of them settled down with Viktor perched on the arm of Hermione's chair like a vulture. Harry stood to make them drinks when Viktor muttered a charm and four crystal glasses appeared along with a large tumbler of Butterbeer.
So how've you been, Hermione?" Harry asked, sipping his Butterbeer.
"I've been staying with Viktor. It's been nice, just to relax." She said.
"You know your room at the Burrow's still available…" Ron started.
"Viktor and I are staying for a day or two only. We're having dinner tonight at The Three Broomsticks. We'd love it if you all came." Hermione said with some finality. The guilt ate at her when she saw Ron's face drop like a mallet.
Later that evening they all had a lovely meal of chicken casserole and crisp salad and honey roasted potatoes and garlic mash and tomato soup to fight the cold. They drank Butterbeer and pumpkin juice and had treacle tart and chocolate sponge for dessert. Ginny came with Neville, whom she'd been dating since the Final Battle.
Hermione went outside for some air and looked lovingly at the clear sky scattered with clear crystalline stars. She felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and felt the warm breath on the back of her neck.
"I need to leave her Viktor. I was home. With you." She turned around and kissed him. Their lips kissed and sparks should have been visible as they embraced deeply.
7-7-7
Viktor awoke in a bed he remembered as the one in Bulgaria. He felt so well rested after the flight from London Heathrow Airport to Sofia Airport. The food was awful and he had watched Hermione protectively as she wriggled in her sleep.
He felt a warm body next to his. Its wavy dark brown tangled curls brushed his Slavic chin and he smelt the sweet scent of pineapple and strawberries and fresh fruit and the clinging smell of ink. He realised that he only wore a pair of knee length shorts in red and gold, suitable for Gryffindor, Durmstrang or Bulgarian Quidditch Team affiliations. His bare chest was surprisingly warm in the winter, although Hermione using it as a body pillow could seriously have warmed him up.
She was snoring gently and to Viktor's surprise, she was wearing a pair of three quarter jeans and Viktor's tee shirt. The fact that the crimson, grey and gold tee he had been wearing was now on Hermione's personage on top of her other tee shirtand it was like a tarp on her. His arms were protectively around her waist.
If it was humanly possible, he never wanted to leave this bed, where he and she lay.
She suddenly turned and buried her face into the crook of his shoulder and the hollow of his neck, so he could feel the softness of the tee on his muscled chest. His arms wrapped tighter around her and he felt as though, in a very long them that he was complete. He was wrapped around heaven and he didn't want to let go and he knew he never would.
Never.
Fin