Hermione stood in front of the mirror and surveyed herself for the third time. She was wearing a fire red dress, foregoing her robes, knowing that it was going to be a warm day. She had been ready at nine thirty, after bathing, applying a light layer of makeup and styling her hair. If she were to have been meeting Harry or Ron she wouldn't have gone to nearly so much effort, but she wasn't meeting Harry or Ron, she was waiting for Viktor, the man whose kiss still lingered on her cheek and set her whole body alight.
Viktor apparated outside of her door, feeling his palms sweaty and hearing his breath ragged, he allowed himself a moment to calm down. It was almost ten, he was early enough to be considered punctual, but not so early that she would not be ready. He had purposefully stayed away from her, wanting to have steady conversation throughout the day. It had been so difficult to be away from her for only a few days that he wondered how he had managed years apart.
He knocked on the door and waited to see her, she opened the door and took his breath away. She was dressed in Bulgaria red and he had to stop himself from drooling, having his earlier imagined fantasy fulfilled.
"Come in, I just have to finish getting ready quickly." She invited him in and dashed off to the bathroom. Now that he was fully conscious, he could admire her flat in a way he couldn't the last time he was there. On the shelves laid nick knacks that held no meaning to him. He noticed a thimble, a tea cloth, clippings of old newspapers and, to his surprise, a magic framed image of the two of them. She was dressed in her powder blue gown and he was wearing his dress robes and they looked at one another with such love in their eyes that he had to hold back his tears. He laughed when he saw younger Krum in the picture wink to him knowingly and smiled softly as Hermione waved at him. She was young and innocent then, not having been touched by the horrors of war. He sighed, knowing that neither were the same as they were then. But he was not sad, they had evolved and he was sure that with that evolution their connection could evolve as well.
Hermione had smoothed her hair down once more and brushed her teeth, before applying a light red tint to her lips and checking herself one last time. He did not notice when she entered the living room. He was stood with his back to her, looking at a photograph. The closer she got she realised that it was the image she kept of the yule ball. She blushed, Viktor knowing that she had kept an image of him all those years, but knew that he would be touched by the gesture.
"It is one of my fondest memories." She said, her voice breathless. He turned, holding the moving image in his hands.
"Dumbledore gave me this image after you left. He said he had never seen me so happy. He liked you, very much." She could feel herself babbling, but that memory of Dumbledore handing her the framed image, saying never give up on him, Hermione. He is one of the finest men I have met and you could do much worse. Was one of her favourites of the headmaster.
"It is favourite memory for I too. I vish I had image like this, to see vhenever I vant to feel soft feeling. But Karkaroff vas not as generous as your headmaster." He sighed, finally placing the picture down on the shelf and gazing at her once more.
Hermione had to employ herself with gathering her items, such as her wand and purse, into her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She knew if she didn't she would stand, ogling Viktor all day and they would never begin their tour. He looked utterly sinful in his black attire. He stood, fierce and powerful, more manly than she had seen in years.
"I am ready if you are." She chimed to him and he lead her out of the door and into Vratsa town.
Viktor longed to hold Hermione's hand as they walked the cobbled streets of old town Vratsa. They had stopped by some ruins that Viktor explained had once been a beautiful library, until the war.
"I spend a lot of time here, until, vell you know." She nodded to him, looking reverent at knowing so many books were destroyed. They had looked around the new bookshop that had been set up near the ruins and both blushed as a young boy, heading to Durmstrang asked Viktor to sign his Quidditch 101 textbook and a young witch fawned over Hermione, pleading her to sign her potions book.
"I vant to be hero, just like you!" The young girl beamed at Hermione. She was not sure where the girl would go to school, knowing the Durmstrang was boys only, but smoothed the young witch's unruly hair.
"Then you must study and work hard, as I did. That is my greatest advice." She smiled down at the promising young girl.
"You heard the famous vitch, maybe now you vill listen!" Her mother called to her and the girl wished Hermione a goodbye, before running off.
Viktor had delighted in seeing Hermione interact with the young girl. She was so tentative and answered all of the questions the girl had asked. Whereas his fans only wanted an autograph to show their friends, Hermione's fans wanted advice and tips on how to become a great witch.
"They are both so lucky and unlucky." Hermione mused as they left the book shop.
"How so?" He asked, wondering what on earth she could mean.
"Well, there is no war left to fight. They will have fruitful childhoods and educations, whether they play quidditch or study potions. But they have lost their parents, their siblings, their friends. Many will be orphans, just like Harry and although they can rest knowing the war is over, they will still miss those they have lost." Viktor looked over at Hermione and felt his heart ache as he saw her in such pain. Without thinking, he took her hand in his and squeezed it gently.
"Come, ve talk more. Here is my favourite tavern." He gestured towards The Stone Cauldron. She smiled up at him, giddy with the sensation of his hand in hers and smiled a sliver of a grin as he led her and sat her down at a corner table.
Now set up with two frothing butterbeers, Viktor was determined to find out more about what had happened in the war. He had stories of his own and he was willing to share them. But he doubted that she had ever shared her stories with anyone and he knew it would help her enormously to share her burden with another.
"Her-my-ninny. I think we should talk about var. I haff stories, if not not vant talk. You sit, listen. But I think is good to share, vith those you care about." He sent her a small smile and she sighed knowing he was right. She nodded gently, this day going in a completely different direction than she had expected.
"Vhen the var come to Bulgaria, I volunteered to fight. Many people say no, but I know it is right thing to do. I stay here, in Vratsa and protect the people. Vhen they came, the death eaters, I protect the children, like boy and girl ve see. I save most, but one." Hermione saw Viktor struggle and she reached out her hand, grasping his. He looked up at her in shock, then his expression softened and he stroked his thumb against the back of her hand.
"His parents vere on the other side and they thought they knew vhat vas best. My team mate, Ivan, he battle vith the father and vhen he fall, he take the boy too. I saved all but one, protected all but one." Viktor had never told anyone that story. He saw a tear roll down Hermione's cheek and brushed it away with his free hand. She now understood the shy nature of Ivan and the sad glint she would sometimes see come to his eye.
"You did so much, protected so many. You should not be ashamed of your effort, you should be infinitely proud!" Hermione cried softly to him, her voice shaking. He squeezed her hand, swelling with pride that she was proud of him.
"I have pride, I know I do my part. But alvays be the one I could not save." He said mournfully, looking down at their hands.
Hermione knew it was now her turn to share and she felt a wave of terror wash over her. Not even a year had passed since the end of the war and although the world seemed to move on so quickly, she was still somehow stuck in her grief.
"I-I killed in the war." She whispered, looking down at the table, unable to meet Viktor's gaze.
"I used the killing curse on so many, wounded so many. I saw my friends sacrifice themselves, saw so many people die, too many at my own wand." She sighed, remembering almost every face that she had seen lose its light as the person died. Viktor stayed silent, wanting her to continue.
"I know they were on the other side and that such things happen in war, but they had lives, families. How do I know I was not killing innocent people who had been blackmailed by you know who? How will I ever know if I am only a cold blooded killer?" Her speech quickened as she admitted her feelings. She gasped as Viktor brought her hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss to the soft skin there.
"Shhh, Her-my-ninny. Do not vorry, you are safe." He whispered into the palm of her hand. He looked into her eyes and surprisingly, nothing had changed. Hermione thought she might see a glint of disdain once he found out she had killed in the war, but he still looked at her with adoring eyes.
"You are still beautiful, smart girl I see in library so many years ago. You may think no, but I see you, alvays thinking of others, alvays on quest for knowledge. You save us, Her-my-ninny. You and Potter and Veasely, you save us from vorld of evil. You kill people, it happens, that is vhat happens in var. I protect people, trying to save those I loff. You defeat people, saving everyone, those you do not effen know." He spoke animatedly, pleading to her, wanting her to know that he was right. Hermione showed him the briefest of smiles and he knew he had lifted a small part of her burden and he hoped in the future that he could alleviate more of her pain.