Two Ships

Hermione left the Ministry library late on Christmas Eve. It was snowing and her stomach was growling. She'd skipped breakfast and forgotten to eat lunch, which wasn't unusual when she was upset. A week ago, she'd left Ron. He'd told her to go. He'd told her he was done with her, but he was drunk, and at the time, she'd thought he probably hadn't meant it. He'd been drunk a lot lately. He'd been drinking more since the war ended, but once they'd moved out of the Burrow and into their own flat, he'd really increased his intake and had become more and more aggressive with her. He was still recovering from his injuries from the end of the war and it was taking longer than anyone had thought. She'd tried talking to him about it but he'd dismissed her concerns. Speaking had become increasingly difficult for her lately. She was so hurt and angry it made her feel completely out of control, so once he'd shut her down, she hadn't broached the subject again, for fear of what she might say or do if she did. She knew her silence wasn't helping, but she just didn't trust herself to speak. Toward the end, it seemed like the only lines of communication left to them were in the bedroom, but then even that had become very strained. He'd gotten quite rough with her and seemed to have lost sight of her needs entirely. It had been quite a while since he'd touched her in anything close to a loving manner. The last night they were together things between them had spiraled completely out of control. He'd been nasty and brutish. When he'd told her to bugger off, she'd thought he might be right.

She'd spent the last week rattling around in her parent's old house in London. It was hard to stay there where they had been murdered, but she didn't have anywhere else to go and couldn't afford to stay in a hotel. She didn't have a job yet. The trials for becoming an Unspeakable were over, but unfortunately, she'd been warned that it would likely take a month or more before they notified her if she'd made it. In the meantime, she'd spent every day in the Ministry library. It was comforting to be among the books, to shut out the mess of her personal life, and lose herself in reading. Perhaps foolishly, she'd thought Ron would have come to his senses by now, reached out to her, offered an olive branch, but none of that happened. It seemed he'd meant it when he'd said he was done with her. The nights were the hardest. She had hours to fill with no one but herself for company and it was causing her to have some very dark thoughts. She'd started thinking that no one would notice or even care if she wasn't around anymore. When she began to think of ways to do herself in, she got scared and started bargaining with herself. She'd wait until she heard. She couldn't die without knowing whether she'd made Unspeakable, right? She could hold out. But as the days got shorter and the nights got longer, her timeline kept changing. A month seemed like an eternity to live like this, so she'd started coming up with shorter goals. Christmas, she could hold out until Christmas.

But the holidays made everything worse. She'd broken down and pathetically sent Ron a Christmas card by owl post but hadn't as yet received one in return. Actually, she'd only gotten two - one from Harry, in which he wished her a Happy Christmas and then implored her to sort out this business with Ron, and one from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, which just said Happy Christmas and nothing more. Part of her wanted to send Harry a Howler and tell him to go sort out Ron. She'd tried and failed. There was something very wrong with Ron and she couldn't fix it. She couldn't fix anything. She was worthless.

She decided to cut through Diagon Alley. As she walked, she felt light headed. The shops were all closed for Christmas Eve. Her stomach growled as she cut through the Leaky Cauldron and into Muggle London. It was only a couple of blocks to walk to her parents' townhouse, but she didn't really have any food there, so she decided to stop in a Waitrose that was still open on the corner before heading home. Part of her wondered, if she was going to be dead by Boxing Day, what would be the point of eating but another part of her screamed for her not to be ridiculous, that she wouldn't go through with it, to just get some food. Increasingly, she felt at war with herself: half of her fighting to live, the other half fighting to die.

She'd managed to put a bottle of milk and a box of Weetabix into her basket when someone bumped into her. She turned around and was astounded to see Viktor Krum scowling back at her. The scowl disappeared and was replaced by recognition.

"Hermione?"

"Viktor?"

They hugged each other.

"What are you doing in London?" Hermione asked.

Viktor smiled. "I am trying out for Puddlemere United."

Hermione looked at him, surprised that he would leave Bulgaria. "What? I thought you played for the Vrasta Vultures when you weren't playing for the Bulgarian National team."

Viktor cleared his throat. "I was. I just needed a change. I can still play for the national team if they want me."

Hermione thought it odd that there would be a question as to whether they'd want him, but she didn't follow Quidditch very closely, so she was reticent to say anything else about it. "Are you staying around here?"

Viktor sighed. "No. I am supposed to be staying in Diagon Alley, but the Portkey that was to take me directly to the hotel dropped me behind some Muggle jewelry store instead. I have been walking around for two hours trying to find the magical entrance. I just came in here to get something to eat."

Hermione grimaced. "I'm so sorry. You should report the Portkey - that kind of malfunction is really serious. Who made it?"

Viktor shrugged and his scowl returned.

"Well," Hermione said, "the good news is Diagon Alley is only about a block from here. I can take you."

He looked visibly relieved.

She looked down at the pitiful contents of her basket. "Actually, would you like to get dinner first?"

Viktor smiled warmly at her. "I would like that." He raised his eyebrows. "But, it is Christmas Eve, and I do not think we are likely to find many places open, unless you want to go to a Muggle restaurant or eat at the hotel perhaps."

Hermione thought he was probably right. "You know what?" she said. "Why don't I make us dinner? I don't live far from here and then you don't have to eat hotel food on Christmas Eve."

Viktor nodded his head. "That sounds good. You are sure you do not mind?"

"Not at all," Hermione smiled. Her evening suddenly didn't seem as bleak. "Do you have any particular favorites?"

With bags laden with thick steaks, parsnips and Brussels sprouts, she and Viktor walked through the snow to her townhouse. They stopped for Viktor to pick up his luggage, which he'd transfigured to look like cardboard boxes in front of the market.

xXx

Dinner had been a joint effort. Viktor knew a good grilling spell and Hermione handled the vegetables. Sated and having started on their second bottle of wine, they'd stayed at the dinner table talking until well into the night. When Viktor finally realized the time, he stood to leave. Hermione rested a hand on his forearm.

"Viktor, it's after midnight. This house has five bedrooms. Why don't you stay? I can take you to Diagon Alley tomorrow."

He paused, looking intently at her. "You do not mind?"

She smiled. "I wouldn't have offered if I did."

She got him settled into one of the first-floor bedrooms and then went upstairs to her own room. Only she wasn't able to sleep. After an hour of tossing and turning she gave up and went back downstairs. She conjured a fire in the parlor fireplace and poured herself a glass of brandy and sat sipping it on the Persian carpet in front of the fire. She'd been sitting there for some time when she heard Viktor come downstairs. She heard him go into the kitchen and then a minute later he came into the parlor with a glass of water in his hand.

"Hermione?"

She looked up at him. "I couldn't sleep."

He sighed. He was barefoot and shirtless in flannel pajama bottoms. He sat cross-legged on the rug next to her. "Me either."

"Well, happy Christmas," she said, and leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Happy Christmas," he repeated, but instead of kissing her cheek, he kissed her warmly on the mouth. The part of her that had been fighting to live for the last week opened her mouth to him and the part of her that wanted to die drowned in his eager response. It was as if they had never stopped dating. Viktor's mouth was warm and passionate. They were soon lying down on their sides as they continued to kiss. When his hand cupped her breast, that too was as before, and she arched into him, but when she felt his hands tugging at the belt of her dressing gown, she leaned her head back out of the kiss and looked down at what he was doing.

He smiled at her. "Just once," he said softly, "I would like to feel you without layers of cotton and wool between us."

She swallowed hard, unsure if she really wanted to do this, but then she considered her alternate plan for the day, cast a wandless non-verbal spell to conceal her scars, and opened her dressing gown. The flannel gown she wore beneath it buttoned up the front and she watched Viktor unbutton it. He started at the bottom and kissed the flesh behind each opened button. When he reached the top one, he slipped it from her shoulders leaving her naked. The heat from the fire felt good against her exposed skin, but Viktor's mouth on her breast felt even better. As he kissed his way back down her body, his black hair reminded her briefly of Harry in much the same position after the Poacher's Curse had been cast at the three of them. She closed her eyes and willed away the image. She didn't like to think about that night and she especially didn't want to think about it right now. She was already fighting back feelings of guilt, but Viktor's tongue was making that easier and easier. She gasped and surged against his mouth as he deftly slid two fingers inside her. He curled them and she came completely unglued. She was left panting and trembling through aftershocks. Viktor kissed her thigh, wiped his mouth on the bottom of her gown and slid back up next to her and smiled. She glanced at him. He'd put on a lot of muscle since school. She patted his chest, noting that he had washboard abs and was still wearing his pajama pants which were tented now. "Give me a second and I'll return the favor."

He smiled at her. "Actually, if you do not mind, I think I would rather be inside you." He kissed her shoulder.

"Oh," Hermione said, blinking. She hadn't considered that. And now he was expecting an answer. "Um, okay."

He smiled again and cast the contraception charm wandlessly as he slid out of his pajama bottoms before settling between her legs. Once again, she was reminded of Harry. Viktor was an average sized guy, unlike Ron, who was rather a lot to accommodate. The thought of Ron sent another wave of guilt washing over her, but she pushed it aside. He'd sent her away. He'd hurt her. She owed him nothing. She could do as she pleased and right now Viktor pleased her, but that was short lived as his first real thrust drove her bruised bottom into the carpet and she hissed in pain.

Viktor looked down at her, concern crossing his features. "Am I hurting you?"

She shifted uncomfortably beneath him. "No. I mean…it's just…the floor is rather hard. Would you mind…could we switch?"

He grinned at her. "Absolutely." He slipped out of her and rolled on to his back.

xXx

Viktor was delighted when Hermione suggested they switch places. He liked the view a woman on top provided. When she shifted on to her knees to straddle him, he caught sight of a dark purple bruise that ran all the way across her bum. Not wanting to kill the mood, he didn't say anything, but it bothered him. The bother disappeared though when she sank over him, but as she rested her hands on his chest, he noticed finger bruises on her forearms. They were fading to yellow, but they were there. She tightened herself around him and shifted her hips and, for the moment, he forgot about the bruises.

Viktor wanted more time, but she was riding him hard and this was an old fantasy come true. They hadn't taken the physical aspects of their relationship very far when they'd been at Hogwarts. She was only fifteen at the time which had felt a lot younger than his eighteen years had felt. He hadn't wanted to push her then, but he had wanted her, and now he was here, inside of her, and he wasn't going to last much longer. He growled in frustration and got his hands under him and thrust himself off the floor, shifting their position and throwing off her rhythm. She gasped at the sudden change. He wrapped his arm around her and pressed his forehead against hers. "You are…" He gritted his teeth, trying to rein himself in.

"What?" Hermione gasped, unsure of what was happening.

"Surprising," Viktor finished. "I…" He groaned again. "Can I come inside you? I will not last much longer."

xXx

Thrown off her rhythm and confused by the question, Hermione looked at him. Ron had never asked before. And neither of them had asked that night with Harry. They hadn't cast the contraception charm either which left them all very nervous for two weeks until she'd started her period, but she'd heard Viktor cast the charm, so she wasn't sure why he thought she'd mind. Perhaps some women minded. It occurred to her she didn't know much about sexual etiquette. Once again, she realized he was waiting for an answer and it was costing him. All the muscles in his neck were taunt. "Go ahead," she gasped.

He gripped her shoulders and thrust up hard twice before moaning against her neck. She felt him relax. Panting, he kissed her cheek and then her mouth, sliding his fingers into her hair as he kissed her more passionately. When he released her, he lay down on his back and she snuggled next to him. He pulled her dressing gown over them both. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his breathing started to slow.

Viktor chuckled softly.

She pushed herself up on one elbow and looked at him. "What?"

"Is there anything you are not good at?"

"I'm terrible on a broom."

He laughed. "Still? I tried so hard to teach you at Hogwarts."

She sighed. "I never got any better. Thank goodness for Apparition."

He shook his head. Smiling, he cupped her breast. "These are quite a bit fuller than I remember. As I recall they used to barely fill my hand."

Hermione shrugged. "Yes, and that was probably mostly jumper."

He chuckled again.

"However," she said somewhat defensively, "I was only fifteen and a bit of a late bloomer."

He smiled more sincerely. "You have grown up very beautiful."

She shook her head. "I think beautiful is a stretch."

He cupped her face and leaned in to kiss her again. "I do not think so."

It was hard to look at him when he said things like that, so she snuggled against him instead. He pulled her dressing gown back over them and they drifted off to sleep.

xXx

Hermione awoke the next morning to the sounds and smells of breakfast. She was still naked on the floor of the parlor under her dressing gown, but the fire had died down and the room was chilly. She shrugged on her dressing gown before adding some kindling and a couple of logs to the get the fire going again. She went to the powder room to freshen up and get her hair under control before she faced Viktor. Her wand was still in the pocket of her dressing gown so she used it to cast a new glamour charm to cover her scars and then she cast the elaborate spells to tame her hair into a single braid down her back. She didn't have time for a shower, so she cast a general cleaning charm on herself and her clothes. She blew out a slow breath as she assessed herself in the mirror. What have I done? She frowned at her image. Oh please, she thought, you're a grown woman. Two consenting adults spent the night together. Don't be a baby about it. He's making breakfast. Go in there and act like an adult. She blew out another calming breath and opened the door.

When she stepped into the kitchen Viktor was standing at the cooker, fully dressed, with his wand out. Bacon and eggs were frying.

"You went back to the market." Hermione said, knowing she hadn't had breakfast food on hand last night.

"I had to," Viktor said. "All you had to eat was those cereal cubes."

"Weetabix," Hermione answered.

"Yes," Viktor said grimacing. "I do not know how you eat that."

She shrugged.

He began plating eggs and bacon. "Sit," he said.

She sat. "Thank you for making breakfast."

He smiled at her. "I woke hungry."

Her stomach growled in agreement and she could feel herself blush.

"Ah, you did too," Viktor said, handing her a plate before grabbing his own and sitting across from her. "I could not find coffee."

"I usually drink tea," she said. "I'll put the kettle on."

"Alright," he said, taking a bite of bacon.

Hermione flicked her wand and the kettle sailed over to the sink, filled itself, and then sailed back to the stove top. With another flick of her wand, she started the fire under it. Viktor watched her. "You are very good with magic," he said.

She smiled. "Because I can make tea?"

"I was thinking more because you can tame that hair, but the tea is nice too." There was a mischievous gleam in his eye.

She mock scowled at him. "Thanks a lot." She took a bite of bacon. "This is really good."

"Thank you."

She stood and finished making the tea, bringing the pot to the table so it could steep while she got a couple of cups from the cupboard.

He smiled at her. "It snowed last night," he said. "People seemed quite concerned at the market."

"Yes, well, it doesn't snow often in London. There's a bit of a tendency toward panic among the Muggles when it does."

"It snowed quite a lot," Viktor said.

"Seriously?" Hermione said, going to the window to see for herself. "Good heavens. That's unusual." There was a thick blanket of snow covering the surrounding area.

"We should go sledding," he said.

Hermione turned to look at him. "I don't think we have a sled."

"We?" Viktor said.

"This was my parent's house," Hermione said, her voice catching.

Viktor raised his eyebrows.

"They were killed by Death Eaters…in retaliation…after the war."

"A terrible thing," Viktor said.

She nodded. She didn't want to talk about this. It was too hard to live in their house and talk about their death. "Anyway, I don't think they owned a sled."

He gave her a sad smile. "No matter. If you want to go, I will transfigure something."

She smiled back. "That sounds good." She poured them each a cup of tea and then sat back down to finish her breakfast.

Viktor pushed the eggs around on his plate. "I was engaged to be married."

Hermione set down her tea and looked at him.

"You would have liked her. She was very smart and very outspoken. She was also murdered by Death Eaters."

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry."

"It is a hard thing to live with," he said softly.

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

He turned his hand over and laced his fingers through hers. "We will go sledding."

She blinked back tears and smiled. "Yes. I'll go get changed."

xXx

She was pulling on her snow boots in the kitchen when Viktor said, "Hermione, before we go, perhaps I should…"

She looked up at him. "What?"

He cleared his throat. "There are bruises on your body," he said softly. "Perhaps I should heal them."

"Oh," Hermione said, looking away from him and feeling her face heat up. "Right. Okay."

He gave her a weak smile. "Drop your trousers."

"Right," she said. This was so humiliating, but he'd already seen them. She couldn't imagine why she hadn't thought to include the bruises in the charm that covered her scars. He was right though, healing them before they went sledding was definitely a good idea. She turned around and unbuckled her belt and slid her trousers and knickers down just far enough for him to see the bruise.

"This is quite deep," Viktor said before casting Episkey. "Why have you left it?"

The relief was immediate. The bruise had been aching for over a week. She didn't realize how much it had been hurting until the pain disappeared. She'd left it to discourage her from going back to Ron. He needed to come to her. She didn't tell Viktor that though, instead, she pulled her trousers back up and buckled her belt. "Thanks."

"You are welcome," Viktor said. "Let me see your arms."

Her face grew hotter. The bruise on her bum had hurt so bad, she'd completely forgotten about the fingerprint bruises on her arms. She pushed her sleeves up but turned her head away. Viktor cast Episkey twice more. "Thanks," Hermione said again without looking at him as she pulled her sleeves down and buttoned the cuffs.

Viktor put his wand away and said gently, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione shook her head. "No." She knew he must have some sense of how she'd gotten hurt, but she didn't want to talk about it. Ron wasn't himself and while she might not be able to live with him anymore, she couldn't run him down either. She had a deep and abiding sense of loyalty when it came to Ron and Harry. Ron had sacrificed so much for her. The least she could do was keep her mouth shut.

Viktor tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "Alright. Time to play in the snow, yes?"

She smiled at him. "Yes. There's a park with a hill just a few blocks from here."

"Perfect," Viktor said. Outside he transfigured an empty garbage bin into a toboggan and they set off.

xXx

Playing in the snow turned out to be a lot of fun even if their toboggan had a bit of a funky smell. Muggles were enjoying the unusual snowfall too, and the atmosphere was carefree and fun. After a couple of hours though they were both tired and wet and ready to head back. There was a Muggle vendor selling hot chocolate from a cart, but neither of them had Muggle money with them and Hermione didn't want to cheat the vendor by transfiguring something.

"You know who makes the best hot chocolate?" Hermione said.

Viktor raised his eyebrows.

"Honeydukes," Hermione said.

"Ah yes," Viktor said. "In that village below Hogwarts."

"Hogsmeade," Hermione said. "Shall we? We can just step behind those trees." He followed her out of sight of the Muggles and she held out her arm.

"What?" Viktor said, looking incredulous. "You want to take me side-along?"

She smiled at him. "I used to take Ron and Harry all over the place?"

"Both of them?" He said. "You can do double side-along?"

She nodded. "Even in a pinch." She held out her arm again.

He took it reluctantly. "Alright."

When they arrived in Hogsmeade, Viktor quickly did an assessment to make sure she hadn't Splinched him. Hermione chuckled at his concern. "You're fine."

He gave her a long approving look. "You are very good at magic."

She smiled. "Yes, I am. Come on, let's get some hot chocolate."

Honeydukes had just opened and it appeared they were the first customers of the day. Viktor ordered two hot chocolates with whipped cream. They stepped back out on to the street. She took a sip of her drink and Viktor smiled. "You have whipped cream on your nose," he said, wiping it away with his thumb." A flash bulb went off and she recognized a photographer that worked for The Daily Prophet. Without asking, she grabbed Viktor's arm and Apparated back to her parent's townhouse.

Viktor was wide-eyed when they landed. He looked down at the drink in his hand. "You did not even spill it," he said in awe.

"No," she said. "Let's go in. I'm cold."

He followed her. "I take it you do not like publicity."

"Not as such, no," Hermione said, setting her drink down on the table and pulling off her coat. "Where did he come from anyway? How did he know we were there?"

"It was probably just luck," Viktor said.

"I guess you get this all the time," Hermione said.

Viktor shrugged. "It is part of the job. Surely, given your role in the war, you must be used to it by now."

"Familiar, yes. Used to it? Not really."

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. "It is better to embrace it than to fight it. They go after you harder when you fight it."

She closed her eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. "I know you're right. I just hate it."

"I know," he kissed her softly on the lips.

She kissed him back but was surprised when he began unbuttoning her shirt as he moved to kiss her neck. She turned her head to give him more access and realized they were standing in the kitchen. Since she had no desire for another encounter on a table, she pressed her lips against his ear. "Viktor, there are beds in this house, you know?"

He leaned back and looked at her. "You are brilliant."

She laughed and tugged him upstairs by his belt.

xXx

She Apparated with him to the entrance to Diagon Alley later that afternoon. He had a meeting with the coaches for Puddlemere United that evening and then wanted to turn in early to be ready for try-outs the next day.

Hermione pulled out her wand and showed him the sequence to tap on the wall to get into the alley. The bricks folded themselves back and created a doorway. Viktor looked at her with an expression of gratitude. He leaned in and kissed her. "Thank you."

She smiled at him. "It was wonderful to see you again."

"You too." He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I should go."

She nodded. "Good luck with try-outs."

He smiled at her, kissed her forehead, and stepped into the alley. Hermione watched as the bricks closed behind him. She sighed and turned to walk back home. She could have Apparated, but she decided the walk might do her good. She was sad to see Viktor go, but she didn't have any delusions about the last twenty-four hours. She tried to sort through her feelings. There was still no word from Ron or Harry beyond Harry's Christmas card. She wondered what Ron's explanation for her departure had been. Part of her wanted to tell Harry and Ginny what had happened, but a larger part didn't want anyone to ever know what Ron had done, what she'd allowed him to do. She could have stopped him, could have cast Protego, could have cast any number of spells to get him off her, and yet she hadn't. She didn't know what was wrong with her or what was wrong with him. They were broken somehow and despite her best efforts she hadn't been able to fix the relationship. And now she'd slept with Viktor. She wasn't sure what that meant or if it meant anything in terms of her and Ron. She supposed not if she never disclosed it. She was certain Viktor wouldn't. On the other hand, there didn't seem to be a her and Ron anymore. A tear slipped down her cheek. After everything they'd been through, it was hard to imagine this was it. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and squared her shoulders. One thing Viktor had done for her was bring her life back into focus. She'd chosen him over oblivion, which meant she wasn't interested in dying. She loved Ron, but not what he'd become and not what she'd been there at the end either. She would rise. She would keep herself busy until she heard from the Ministry and if the Unspeakables didn't work out, she'd find something else. She was Hermione Granger, witch. She would not be undone by a breakup. She was stronger than that. If she had to rebuild her life from the ground up, so be it. She spent the rest of Monday making lists of things she needed to do at the house and assessing the various rooms.

After her parents were murdered in the parlor, she'd removed all the furniture and the rug, and repainted the room after a thorough cleaning. Ron, Harry, and Ginny had helped. Ron hadn't been able to help magically, but he'd done what he could, lifting and carting things out to the back garden. When they were done, she'd locked the house and hadn't gone back in until the night she'd left Ron. Since she'd been back she'd replaced the parlor furnishings and she'd redone the study. She'd left everything else as it was to be dealt with later when she had more money. She finished her list and returned to the kitchen for another cup of tea and to read the paper.