Author's Note: This was inspired by something that happened to me earlier tonight - the slamming into the stairs part - and it wasn't exactly fun. This is the fic I was supposed to post on the thirty-first of December, but hadn't written or gotten the chance to type. So here it is - please review! Oh, and if you have any ideas for a better title, please share :)
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or setting - obviously.
The door slammed open, slamming her against the stairs; their hard edges cut into her ribs as the burst of pain brought tears to her eyes. She'd been trying to hold it shut – whoever her pursuer was, he was a fair bit stronger than Hermione.
When Hermione looked up, she gasped and stumbled up the stone stairs behind her. "Viktor?" she whispered.
He slumped onto the stairs at her feet, wand still in hand. His eyes were almost pleading. "Hermione… Please… Tell me I didn't hurt you," he murmured desperately.
Hermione winced. She could still feel the steps jabbing into her. "Why were you following me?" she asked. She needed to know – no one was supposed to know that she was in Siberia.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I know that this wasn't the best was for us to meet again… But I thought that maybe – maybe you'd come to see me?" Viktor said tentatively.
Viktor was right. Absolutely, incredibly right.
Hermione leapt from where she still sat on the stairs. It'd taken years of "business trips" to find him, and she wasn't going to let him go this time. She quietly shut the door and said, "That's exactly why I came."
She moved to sit next to him on the stairs where he still knelt. When she was still, he wrapped her in his arms. Hermione leaned into his warmth, knotted her hands around his neck, and began to cry into his chest. Viktor rested his chin on the top of her head.
"What's wrong?"
She looked up at him, tears glittering as they ran down her face. "I'm married, Viktor. I married Ron."
He raised his brow. "The redhead that was jealous of me at the Triwizard Tournament?" When she nodded, he hugged her tighter. "It doesn't matter to me. It changes nothing for me, Hermione," he muttered.
Hermione swung her head up so fast, she almost got whiplash. "You can say my name," she whispered, realizing that he'd not only used her name once, but twice. "Your accent changed."
Viktor grinned at her. "Yes. I spent many years looking for you in the United Kingdom."
That made her cry harder. They were silent for a while.
Eventually, her tears dried and they sat down at the little kitchen table. She told him about her life – how she wanted children; how Ron was reluctant to have little Freds and Georges running around the house, blowing things up. She wished she could have Hogwarts back. She wanted Viktor to stay here with her forever and talk.
That was when he stood up. "I can't stay if that's what you want," he said to the linoleum floor. "I'm putting your marriage at risk, because that's what I want, too – I want to stay, but if I did, I don't think either of us would ever willingly leave this cabin."
He walked out the door and into the snowstorm, a scarf in Durmstrang colors whipping around him.
Hermione slid from her chair and leaned against it. She imagined Viktor's arms around her – supporting her – and all the warmth he'd given her flooded from her body like the tears that sprang so easily from her eyes. "I love you, Viktor," she whispered.
And then she was back in the library, watching him watch her, the girls that always followed him around giggling. She smiled pointedly at him. He nodded and grinned.
"Don't you dare leave me…"
Hermione's vision darkened, and then she was back at the Yule Ball. Twirling in his arms, warm all over, they'd opened the dance with a waltz. It'd rained a little that night, beautiful in the golden light emanating from the castle. They'd danced in the rain, too.
"I'll never forgive you if you leave me…"
Visiting him during the summer. Laughing in front of the crackling fire in their private cabin. Writing letters. Responding to them. All the nights she'd lain awake, thinking of him…
…Wasted. Gone.
"I love you too much to forgive you."
Her world faded to black.
When the owners of the cabin came back, they found Hermione freezing on their kitchen floor in a nearly unbreakable trance. Her ribs were bruised, and her arms and legs.
Luckily, the couple was a wizarding pair. They got her bandaged up and sent her back home to Ron.
When Hermione saw him, she ran to him, not caring for her damaged body. She embraced him as tightly as she could.
She'd never lose him like she'd lost her last love. Ron was hers to keep for ever and ever.
No tears escaped when he hugged her back just as tightly. Only Viktor could ever make her cry.
"I thought you were gone," Ron said, kissing her lightly on the lips. "Don't do that again, please."
Warmth overtook her. "I'm not leaving you. Not ever again. I'll stay home."
Ron had been shaken, and so had Hermione. She kept her promise, though.
She became a stay-at-home mom. She didn't leave the house unless she was going somewhere with Ron.
Hermione only ever saw Viktor Krum once more – in a Diagon Alley bookstore. He didn't see her. She was grateful: tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes. She'd run from the sight of him and told Ron she was going home. She Apparated out of there as fast as she could.