Hermione sat in the hotel lobby, sipping her hot cocoa, curled up like a cat in her favorite reading chair. She was wearing her favorite cornflower blue jumper and black leggings.
The hotel was appropriately named the Snitch's Trail, and only accessible via portkey. It was owned by a mysterious multi-galleonaire, and opulently decorated as if someone had seen fit to paint with melted down golden snitches. Everything was trimmed in gold.
Hermione loved how quiet it was. She came to read, relax, regroup and occasionally to ski. However, she spent most of her time in this lobby, with her favorite books and her never-ending cup of cocoa.
"Mrs. Granger-Weasley?" a concierge interrupted her thoughts.
"It's just Granger actually. Mister Weasley and myself are separated. But how can I help you?" she tried to hide her grimace.
The concierge bowed his head.
"I'm sorry I hadn't heard Miss Granger. Well, your table in the cafe is ready whenever you're ready to take your dinner." he conceded. Hermione nodded.
"It's alright. I'll be in in a few moments, thank you. I'm just going to finish this chapter." she replied, smiling up at the young man.
"Very well Miss Granger." he bowed his goodbye and walked to help another guest.
Hermione tried to read the next paragraph and found herself unable. Being called Mrs. Weasley had sparked the fuse in her brain, as always. The relationship built from a strong friendship had run its course and was now over. Ten years of happiness and love and children, down the tubes. She and Ron had been separated four months, and it was still hard. She had always prided herself on being a bright woman, but how they had ended up here, still positively baffled the former Brightest Witch of Her Age.
It seemed so sudden to her but she knew it was anything but sudden. Over the course of their years together, financial strains, parenting differences, it all had boiled over and made them bitter towards one another to the point it was just, over. Her home, once filled with so much love and many laughs, now held nothing but unhappy memories. Or rather, happy memories tinged with sadness over "what used to be." Now she spent two weekends a month here, in solitude and almost silence, while her children visited their father.
She had tried to stay at her home the first weekend, but it had broken her and she had fled to this secret spot. She adored her single bed, a queen size but still all hers. This hotel held her sanity. It reminded her of a lodge she used to visit as a child and that sense of comfort was incomparable.
She sighed dejectedly and closed her copy of Hogwarts: A History, stood and stretched. She placed the book on her chair, and her cup on the side table. She strode into the small restaurant quietly as her stomach growled.
The Snitch's Trail cafe was a dimly circular room, decorated in swatches of silver and gold, with twinkle lights everywhere. A grand piano stood against one wall, begging to be played, but she knew from her time here, the pianist is off on the weekends. Candles gave each table their own ambience.
When she entered the restaurant, she was seated at the same small corner table. She viewed the menu, already knowing she would pick the salmon with salad and spaghetti, as a means of distracting her from her loneliness.
"Good evening, Miss Hermione. How was your reading for the day?" the waiter, Jacques, asked as she absently handed him the menu.
"It was wonderful. My friends make fun of me for rereading it, but for me it's about clinging to a memory of childhood innocence and wonder. When I first arrived at Hogwarts, I was quite taken with the enchanted ceiling." she answered, her melancholy lifting briefly as her eyes sparkled at the recollection. Jacques watched her with amusement.
"I have never been to Hogwarts, so I will have to take your word for it ma cherie. It sounds wonderful." he intoned as he took down her order.
"It was." she replied dreamily. Jacques patted her shoulder gently.
"I'll get this to you as soon as possible." he called, walking away from her.
Ten minutes into her waiting, several reporters had gathered and were furiously clicking their cameras at someone important as they arrived for their dinner. Hermione didn't bother looking up, she stared placidly into the flickering flame of her candle. A part of her wondered who the person was, but a bigger part was thankful they weren't flocking to her demanding answers about her current love life, or lack thereof.
She was started out of her thoughts again by Jacques, who began pouring a glass of wine for her.
"Jacques, I can't afford this." He ignored her protests and continued to top off the glass.
"It is compliments of the house. And of the gentlemen who just came in. He wishes me to tell you, 'Only the strongest flames continue to warm you outside of the Goblet of Fire,' and to wish you well." Jacques smiled at having stumped the smart brunette woman.
"Who is it?" she asked, searching the frenchman's jubilant expression. He gave away nothing.
"Hermione, allow me to be frank with you," she nodded for him to go on, "Let the mystery surround you. You have lived in a rut, now is the time to let your brain do the walking and immerse yourself in the depths of temptation, desire and the unknown. He desires to occupy your mind until your food arrives. He says to Jacques, he says, if you have found him out before it does, you may join him for dinner if so inclined." the waiter smiled slyly and eyed the man across the cafe.
Hermione tried to follow his gaze but it was too crowded. The waiter wandered away, leaving her mind to postulate.
"Only the strongest flames continue to warm you outside of the Goblet of Fire...that's clearly a nod to the Triwizard Tournament...but who?" she pondered out loud. It was then she noticed a small plate of a dozen bon-bons beside her still full wine glass. A note sat perched against the plate. It read
An appetizer worthy of a beautiful woman
Hermione focused on the phrasing and the desserts themselves.
"Goblet of Fire...bon-bons…" she scanned the crowd for the man she sought.
She smiled as her eyes found him, staring at her. She stood, grabbing her glass and the plate of delicacies as she went.
As she made her way across the cafe, a familiar tune wafted through the room. It took her back to a periwinkle gown, lots of Sleakeasy's hair potion, red dress robes, a brown fur, and…
"My Bulgarian bon-bon." she finished her thought out loud as she came to a stop at his table.
"Hello Hermione." he beamed at the naturally beautiful woman before him.
"Hello Viktor." her smile lit up the room.
"Join me, won't you?" He gestured to the chair opposite him, standing as he did.
Hermione smiled at felt her face grow warm. Viktor moved around the table and pulled out her chair. Hermione moved forward, setting the bon-bons down on the table and seating herself. Viktor gently pushed her chair into the table and then returned to his seat. She noted his fashionable formal wear. He wore a crisp blue button down underneath a navy blue suit jacket and matching navy blue slacks. He looked good.
"I feel so underdressed." she looked down at her attire and met his eyes.
"You look beautiful. I knew the bon-bons would give me away." he chuckled, looking down. She smiled at him again.
"How could I forget my Bulgarian bon-bon?" she asked as he hid his face in his hand. She noticed no ring on his left hand, but there were tan lines which meant he, like her, was recently divorced or separated.
"I hated that nickname." he muttered. She chuckled at his discomfort as she took a bon-bon from the plate.
"You are not the only one. So how are you Viktor? How's life? What are you up to? What are you doing here?" she asked, placing the bon-bon between her teeth, before crunching it and letting it fall into her mouth.
Viktor chuckled at her as she picked up her wine glass.
"I've been good. I got married, got divorced, had a son in between, retired from the professional Quidditch circuit. What do you mean what am I doing here?" he asked finally. Hermione eyed him.
"I mean how ironic is it that we happen to both be here in the same weekend?" she sipped her wine and watched him pensively.
"I live here." he watched in amusement as she almost spit out her mouthful of wine.
"You live here? What do you mean you live here?" she balked, eying him.
"I own the hotel Hermione. I bought it after the divorce with my Quidditch earnings." he answered, enjoying her surprise.
"You...you own this? You own my dream hotel and vacation spot?" shock evident in her voice and on her face. He chuckled again, and reached for a bon-bon.
"Yes. After I retired, I took up snowboarding to stay in shape and wanted to snowboard full time. What better place to do that than a locale that's always blanketed in fresh powder? My ex-wife took our house in a Parisian suburb, our son is at Durmstrang most of the year and comes to visit for his winter holiday. So I created my little getaway. " he smiled genuinely at the woman sipping her wine across from him.
"This is my hideaway as well. Ron and I, we've been separated four months and every other weekend when Rose and Hugo are with him, I run away from reality and come here." she muttered into her wine glass. Viktor nodded.
"I know. I've known since your first night."he answered. Hermione blushed, realizing it had taken him four months to say something.
Jacques interrupted their new amiable silence by bringing her salad, spaghetti and salmon.
"Thank you Jacques. " Viktor waved dismissively.
As she sampled her food they former couple spent the night talking, laughing and enjoying each other's company. Before long, her food was long since eaten and yawns replaced intelligent conversation.
"You should probably get up to your room." Viktor said moving to take the last bon-bon.
As he reached for it so did Hermione. Their fingers touched momentarily and Hermione felt a spark. She withdrew her hand. Viktor smiled and picked up the treat victoriously.
"You're right I should. Back to reality tomorrow." she answered wistfully. Viktor nodded.
"Yes indeed." he answered. "Shall we?" he followed up, noting her empty wine glass.
Twenty minutes later, he was walking her to the lift. As she pushed the button for it to go up, he bent down and kissed her cheek. The resulting reaction was a rouge shade of blush breaking out across her face and neck.
When the lift arrived, she got into it, and she stopped when he followed her.
"A gentlemen should always make sure the lady makes it back to her lodgings without harm." he grasped her hand firmly and brought her knuckles to his lips.
"Viktor, it's a hotel elevator. I'm sure I'll be fine." she retorted stubbornly, entering the lift. He followed.
"It is hotel policy to make sure all our visitors are protected at every moment." he quoted the brochure. Hermione smiled and nodded as the tall Bulgarian stood beside her in the small confined space.
They waited patiently as the lift doors closed slowly and it began its ascent towards the tenth floor, where Hermione's room was located. Viktor's fingers brushed against hers again and she felt the familiar spark. She turned to look at him and found him already looking at her.
"Hermione, may I kiss you?" he asked. His question had Hermione breathless. She only nodded.
He smiled and moved so he was in front of her, pinning her to the back wall of the lift. His hands fixed on her hips before slowly sliding up her sides, causing the faintest of tickles and gooseflesh on her body. He dragged his calloused hands up her neck before resting them against her jaw. He used them to tilt her head upwards and he nipped at her lips gently before planting his lips against hers firmly. He moved them over her own as smoothly as he performed his difficult Quidditch moves. Hermione's hands grasped at his suit jacket and waist, pulling him closer into her. He smiled as he pulled away from her lips, only to descend upon them again moments later. He nipped at her bottom lip, daring her to deepen the kiss. She opened her mouth slightly and he plunged his tongue into every nook and cranny of her mouth, tasting the chocolate from the bon-bons mixed with the fruity taste of the wine she had been drinking.
Hermione nearly collapsed under the power and desire he poured into the kiss. Her knees buckled slightly and she felt weak to his advances. He drank her in, from the smell of her muggle perfume to the decadent taste of the chocolate on her lips.
"Gods I've missed you." he whispered as he pulled away at the same time the lift dinged, announcing its arrival at the tenth floor.
"I-I..I've missed you too Viktor." she whispered, taken aback by his candor.
"You should go. Need your rest for your portkey trip tomorrow." he muttered, pecking her lips one more time.
Hermione smiled and nodded, slipping around him to exit the lift. He followed and made sure she made it into her room, before walking away.
"Goodnight Viktor." she whispered as she leaned against the closed door of her hotel room.
She stood a few minutes more and then moved to do her nightly routine before laying down in her camisole and panties.
Just as her eyes closed, there was a rousing knock on her door. She growled and got out of bed. She walked over to her door, cast a silent alohomora and threw her door open to see Viktor, standing in the doorway.
"Viktor, what is it?" she asked. He smiled and produced her copy of Hogwarts: A History.
"You left it in the lobby." he answered. She took the book from him and their arms touched as she pulled away. Viktor took a step towards her.
"I'd like to kiss you again Hermione." he whispered.
He subtly surveyed her braless and scantily clad body, arousal creeping into every pore of his body. Hermione stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips softly. He wrapped his arms around her firmly, pulling her into him. He licked her bottom lip again, nipping it lightly. She deepened the kiss and his hands crept up the back of her shirt. Hermione pulled out of the kiss and looked into his eyes.
"Hold me? Just until I fall asleep? It's been so long since I've.." he cut her train of thought off with a swift, sweet kiss.
"Say no more." he answered, putting a finger to her pouty lips.
He grasped her fingers and and pulled her towards her hotel bed. He took off his slacks, suit jacket and dress shirt and slipped his shoes off beside her bed. He then crawled underneath the coverlet and motioned her forward. She smiled at him and walked to the edge of her bed. She sat down on it, feet flat on the floor. Next she laid down on her side. Viktor scooted closer to her and wrapped an arm around her waist protectively, pulling her against him.
Hermione turned in his hold to look into his eyes. This softer side of Viktor was new to her. He had been somewhat brutish when they had tried to date in her fourth year, but this was a completely new Vik. She reached a hand up to stroke his cheek as his eyes closed.
"I'm sorry I'm not up to taking care of that for you." she whispered, ghosting a finger down his chiseled pecks and abdomen. He hummed his approval.
"Don't worry about it. Your comfort is more important to me than temporary pleasure." he whispered back, rubbing her side affectionately.
Hermione was touched by his words. She reached forward and placed a gentle kiss to his lips. She closed her eyes and fell instantly into a peaceful sleep.
It was the best night of sleep Hermione had had in four months.