A Complicated Witch
The rest of the summer went by quickly. Hermione was busy at work, spending long hours revamping the Apparition project, but she'd also started a second project related to Quidditch. She was working on a cushioning charm that would cover the bottom of the pitch for the length of the game. The trick was for it to be big enough to cover the entire pitch and yet not so thick as to interfere with play. Trickier still, it had to be simple enough to cast that a couple of stadium employees could do it. It was a complex magical problem, but one that would theoretically prevent a lot of injuries if she could make it work. Of course, she couldn't mention it to Viktor, which was frustrating because she would've liked his input.
As the art show approached, Todor and Pietra came to England to stay with Viktor. Hermione was still at work when they arrived. Viktor got them settled into the guestroom and then Pietra announced that she was going to do some shopping. Viktor and Todor opted to stay at the flat. Shortly after Pietra left, Hermione let herself in. On days she stayed with Viktor she just walked the short distance to his flat from the Ministry. She could hear Viktor and Todor deep in a discussion about politics. She slipped down the hall to Viktor's room to get changed out of the traditional robes she wore to work. As she was walking back into the parlor she heard Viktor say, "That is bollocks and you know it."
"I am just saying the British should have acted sooner," Todor said. "Why was he not hunted down the first time?"
"They thought he was dead," Hermione said, surprising them both as she stepped into the parlor.
Todor raised his eyebrows. "They thought he was dead?" He looked at Viktor. "Really? Such a dangerous wizard and no one bothered to confirm it?"
Hermione's jaw clenched. "Avada Kedavra backfired. Harry lived. There was no way anyone at the time could have known Voldemort wasn't dead."
"But they did not check?" Todor said derisively. "Lazy and stupid and the world suffered for it."
"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, isn't it?" Hermione said.
"It is not hindsight," Todor said angrily. "It is experience. Is it not just like the British to run roughshod over everyone else and then fail at critical moments?"
"Todor, shut up," Viktor growled.
"Oh, really?" Hermione said, the air crackling around her.
"Yes," Todor said, ignoring Viktor. "Your empire has gone soft in its shrinkage. Your education is soft, your power is soft. I doubt any of you, with maybe the exception of Harry Potter, could duel your way out of a paper bag."
Hermione slipped her wand from her pocket. "Try me."
"Please," Todor said derisively. "Do not draw your wand at me little queen. It will not end well for you."
Hermione's wand was up in a flash. There was a small popping sound and Todor disappeared.
"What did you do to him?" Viktor cried. "Where is he?"
Hermione held out her hand and a small white mouse flew into it. She held him up by his tail. "Here he is?" she said.
"You transfigured him?" Viktor said, alarmed.
"I forced him into his Animagus form, actually. How unsurprising that he's a rodent."
"I did not know that was possible?" Viktor said, clearly alarmed. "I do not think he even knows how to transform into his Animagus."
Hermione shrugged. She dropped Todor into an empty glass that was sitting on the kitchen counter.
"Come on," Viktor said. "You have made your point. Put him back."
"I don't think so," she said, still irritated. "Maybe later."
"Hermione!" Viktor said, but she disappeared with a pop. "Shit," he muttered. He looked into the glass where Todor was pawing the smooth sides. "You are an idiot."
Todor squeaked in response.
Hermione reappeared less than an hour later just as Pietra was coming in through the Floo." She plucked Todor from the glass by his tail and held him up for Pietra to see. "Do you want him back the way he was? Because I'm happy to leave him like this. He might be less trouble."
Pietra's eyes went wide. "Possibly true, but I still think I prefer him the other way."
"Suit yourself," Hermione said nonchalantly. She tossed Todor on the sofa and reversed the spell. He reappeared in human form. He ran his hands over himself, staring at Hermione as he did so. "Who are you?" he gasped.
"Thoroughly British," Hermione said, glaring at him.
Pietra turned to Todor. "What did you do?"
"Nothing," Todor said innocently. "We were talking about the war and she took offense."
"Oh, Todor!" Pietra said angrily.
"I am sorry," Todor said, but he said it to Pietra not to Hermione, who rolled her eyes and went out on to Viktor's balcony for a smoke.
"Don't apologize to me," Pietra said. "I think you better apologize to her."
Viktor glared his agreement.
Todor frowned but got up and went outside closing the door behind him. "I am sorry," he said to Hermione's back. "I know you did a lot in the war. I was not referring to you, but to your Ministry."
Hermione let out a soft snort. "I know they weren't perfect, but I didn't see any other countries sending wizards to help. Did Bulgaria send a big contingent and I'm just unaware? Last I checked, all you lot sent were Death Eaters."
Todor blushed. "Yes, well, that was unfortunate."
"Unfortunate, is that what it was?" she said angrily.
"I am an ass," he said. "And I talk too much. I am sorry I offended you. That was not my intention."
Hermione sighed. "When you've fought every day to stay alive, when you've been a pawn in a bigger destiny, when people died around you, it's difficult not to take criticism personally."
"I am sure that is true," Todor said contritely. "I really am sorry."
She nodded. "Thank you. I'm sorry I forced you into your Animagus."
He shrugged and lit a cigarette. "It was an interesting experience. I've never learned to do it and now that I know I would just be a mouse, I doubt I will bother."
Hermione chuckled.
"I had no idea you were that powerful," Todor added, blowing out a long stream of smoke.
She snorted. "You're too impressed by power. I'm a human being, just like you. I'm valuable on that basis alone."
"Of course," he said.
"It's not like I don't understand that mistakes were made," she said. "Some of the Ministry's mistakes cost me dearly. But it's easy to sit in judgement after the fact."
They stood there smoking for a while. Finally, Todor stubbed out the remains of his cigarette and said quietly, "Today makes me even sadder about the baby."
Hermione looked at him, shocked that he would mention it.
"I imagine she would have been extraordinary," he said.
"Yes," Hermione said, and lit another cigarette. "Probably so."
"I am going inside," he said. "I really am sorry for what I said."
She nodded and continued staring at the street below.
xXx
When Hermione finally went back inside, Pietra was saying, "So he's loaning us the penthouse suite for the week and we'd love it if you two could join us."
"Did you hear that?" Viktor asked Hermione.
"Something about a suite," she answered.
"A friend of mine, also a client," Pietra said, "is giving us the use of his penthouse suite in Saint-Tropez for the week when we leave here. Would you like to join us?"
Hermione considered. "I don't know that I could do a whole week, but I could probably manage a few days."
"It would be a nice break before I return to practice," Viktor said.
"Then it's settled," Todor said, heartily.
"Alright," Hermione said. "I'll make us a Portkey."
Pietra and Todor looked at each other and then at Viktor. He smiled. "It is alright. She does it all the time."
"Is that legal?" Pietra asked quietly.
"Yes," Hermione said.
"Just anyone can make a Portkey here?" Todor said in a scandalized voice. "Isn't that dangerous?"
"No, not just anyone is allowed to make Portkeys," Hermione answered testily. "But I am. If it makes you nervous—"
"No, no," Todor said, waving his hands. "If Viktor trusts you, I trust you."
xXx
The night of the presentation and gallery opening, Todor, Pietra, Viktor, and Hermione all walked to the Ministry together. Photographers were waiting to snap photos of everyone arriving and Hermione plastered on her standard smile for having her picture taken. Viktor opened the door for the other two and then ushered Hermione in with his hand at the small of her back. The main hall was already crowded when they arrived. Everyone was milling around waiting for the doors to open to the large conference room that had been converted into a temporary art gallery for the next month. As they strolled through the main hall past the chatty portraits of famous British witches and wizards, Todor suddenly stopped.
He turned to Hermione. "Is that you?"
She sighed. Of course, she knew the painting of her, Ron, and Harry was in the main hall. She passed it every day on her way into work, but for some reason it had escaped her that Todor and Pietra would likely see it and comment.
Viktor seemed to sense her discomfort and slipped his arm around her waist. "Of course, it is," he said.
In the painting all three of them had their wands drawn and they looked intensely heroic in a way that Hermione had never actually felt.
Todor approached the painting and stared at it more closely. "I knew you were friends with Harry Potter, but this would imply…"
The painting version of Hermione put her hands on her hips. "What? What would it imply?"
Todor smiled. "That you were much more involved in the war than I thought."
"Of course, I was involved," painting-Hermione said. "Instrumental some might say."
"Definitely," painting-Harry said.
"We'd be dead without her," painting-Ron added.
"I'm right about that," a voice said from behind them.
"Hullo Ron," Hermione said as she turned to face him. Viktor, Todor, and Pietra turned too.
"How are you?" Ron said in a low intimate voice, as if she weren't standing there with three other people.
"Fine. You remember Viktor," she said tightly.
"I do," Ron said, sticking out his hand. Viktor shook it but his face turned hard.
"And this is Todor Golakov and Pietra Vanev. Pietra was a student of Magenta Comstock's. She has a painting in the show."
"Fantastic," Ron said. "That's impressive."
"Thank you," Pietra said. She tilted her head toward the painting. "I guess we know how you two know each other."
Ron softly snorted. He looked at Hermione. "Did you ever feel as cool as we look in that painting?"
"Not once," Hermione said.
The others chuckled.
"Is Harry here yet?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, but they took him and Ginny in already since he's speaking."
"Of course," Hermione said. She saw Todor and Pietra glance at each other. She would try to get Harry's attention later and introduce them. People loved to meet Harry.
"So, you've known Hermione a long time then?" Pietra said.
Ron smiled warmly. "Since we were eleven-years-old. We met on the train to school first year."
A small, blonde woman walked up carrying two glasses. She handed one to Ron. "They didn't have pumpkin juice, so I just brought you water."
"Thanks," Ron said. "Oh," he turned to the others, "This is Ivy. Ivy this is Todor and Pietra and Viktor and Hermione."
They all shook hands. Ivy was clearly impressed to be shaking hands with Viktor and Hermione. She turned back to Ron and mouthed 'wow' when she was done. He smiled at her.
"What do you do Ivy?" Hermione asked.
"I make pastries at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop," Ivy answered.
"I've had some of their pastries. Delicious," Hermione said.
Ivy smiled broadly. "Thanks."
A photographer approached and Hermione stepped closer to Viktor. He slipped his arm around her waist.
"Can I get a picture of the heroes with their painting?" the photographer asked.
"Not without Harry," Hermione answered quickly.
Ron looked at her. "Seriously? Come on."
Just then tones sounded indicating that everyone could come into the gallery.
"No time," Hermione said, and started for the door. Viktor kept pace with her. Todor and Pietra followed.
"Sorry mate," Ron said to the photographer.
Viktor leaned into her. "Are you alright?" he whispered in her ear.
"I'm fine," she said, but he could feel from the rigid way she held herself that she wasn't.
There was time to walk around the gallery before the ceremony started and Hermione was relieved when Ron and Ivy didn't join them as they looked at the paintings. There was a bar and Todor offered to get them all drinks. Hermione was never so happy to have a glass of wine. She was having a visceral response to Ron's presence and realized she was still very angry at him. She didn't want to be angry. She wanted to be indifferent. She didn't want it to matter anymore, but the idea of standing next to him in front of that painting, with him in all likelihood putting his arm around her, left her cold, and that bothered her more than the anger. He was Ron. Her Ron, or he used to be her Ron. The last couple of times she'd seen him, he'd seemed more like himself, and yet, he'd said nothing about the end of their relationship. There was no acknowledgement, no apology. The last time she saw him all he did was whinge about her smoking. She wondered if he even remembered what happened that last night. She just wanted to go home, but she sipped her wine and looked at the paintings instead.
When they reached Pietra's painting, Hermione was impressed. It was a large landscape of magical Sophia. The spell work was excellent. A breeze moved realistically through the street as people moved about their daily business. "It's beautiful," Hermione said.
"Thank you," Pietra said. "It's an early piece. My current work is a bit more sophisticated, but they wanted pieces that reflected work under Magenta, so they chose this one.
Todor kissed her cheek. "So talented."
Pietra smiled at him.
The tones chimed again and people began taking their seats. The ceremony was about to begin. Ron and Ivy were seated three rows ahead of Hermione and she found herself distracted while the Minister of Magic spoke of Magenta Comstock's significant contributions to magical culture. Ron was slouched a bit in his seat and he had his arm casually across Ivy's shoulders. She couldn't help wondering what had happened to the Amazonian goddess from the wedding. Was Ron just dating whoever came along now? How nice for him that he could date whoever he wanted and still be referred to as a hero in the paper, but now that she was dating someone new, she was a fickle tart. If they were Muggles, she'd assume it was sexism, but there wasn't a lot of sexism in a world where witches were every bit as powerful as wizards, so she knew it was about blood status, although with the fall of Voldemort no one would dream of saying so openly. Ron looked like he'd just gotten a haircut, probably because he knew there would be pictures taken today. He still had the beard and that looked freshly trimmed as well. She thought about all the times she'd cast the spells to cut his hair. She wondered who did that now. Ginny maybe. She doubted he did it himself. She scolded herself for thinking about Ron's hair and drew her attention back to the Minister's speech but he was finished and Harry was taking the podium.
Harry gave a moving speech about the importance of people like Magenta Comstock during the war and how significant their stands were in the face of overwhelming prejudice and violence. He said she gave people hope during those dark days. He presented a statuette to her daughter on behalf of the Ministry of Magic and everyone clapped. Hermione had heard it all before. They'd done dozens of events like this since the end of the war. She'd helped Harry write the first version of his speech and he'd just modified it for different recipients over the years. Hermione knew symbolic gestures and recognition were important to people, but her preference would be to never attend another event like this, but she'd be damned if she wasn't going to show up for events she had every right to attend just because some trashy magazine liked to paint her as a trollop. She was a hero whether she felt like one or not and she wouldn't have that taken away from her no matter how uncomfortable the attention made her feel. The ceremony concluded and Hermione returned her attention to the podium where the Minister of Magic was requesting her presence as well as Ron's. She sighed and Viktor squeezed her hand. "Go be a hero," he whispered in her ear.
She kissed his cheek and stood. She and Ron made their way to the front of the room where they stood with Harry and Magenta Comstock's daughter and the Minister of Magic and had their picture taken. Hermione made sure to keep Harry and the others between her and Ron. She knew she was being petty, but she didn't want to touch Ron and she didn't want him touching her. If he couldn't do the decent thing and at least acknowledge what happened between them then she didn't want him putting his arm around her for a photo like they were still friends.
There was a wine and cheese reception after the event and everyone continued milling around looking at the paintings. People kept approaching them to ask for photos. They always complied because they all understood that this was part of being who they were. Several times she caught Ron staring at her. His expression was hard to read. Eventually, Viktor brought Todor and Pietra over and she introduced them to Harry and Ginny. They were clearly thrilled at the opportunity to meet Harry and Hermione was glad she could make it happen for them. It was another hour before the crowd thinned out enough that they could leave.
As they walked back to Viktor's flat, Hermione could feel the weight of the event and seeing Ron starting to lift. Pietra and Todor kept up a steady chatter about the event, about meeting Harry, about Magenta Comstock, about questions Pietra got about her painting. It was all very festive. Viktor had his arm around Hermione's shoulders. He knew the night had been draining for her and that she probably wished that Todor and Pietra weren't going back to the flat with them, so when they reached the flat, he pronounced that he was exhausted and needed to turn in early if they were going to Saint-Tropez the next day. Hermione agreed and the two of them went to bed.
When Viktor closed the door behind them he heard Hermione utter "Impreturb."
He arched an eyebrow at her. "You want me to make you scream?"
She gave him a weary smile and nodded.
"I think I can manage that," he said, pulling his shirt over his head and reaching for her.
For the first time since she lost the baby, Viktor was playful in bed, teasing her, winding her up, and leaving her on the edge, until she was panting and squirming beneath his ministrations. He did in fact make her scream, leaving her body sated and her mind blissfully empty. She fell asleep sweaty, sticky, and exhausted.
xXx
The next morning, Hermione made the Portkey to Saint-Tropez and the four of them went on to the roof of Viktor's building to activate it. Hermione set it to go in one minute and they all took hold of an old umbrella. Seconds later she felt the familiar pull behind her navel and they were off.
The penthouse suite in the big historic hotel in Saint-Tropez turned out to be amazing. The view of the Mediterranean was spectacular and the accommodations were incredible. Each couple had their own bedroom off a central lounge and kitchen combination with a large balcony overlooking the sea. It felt more like a large flat than a hotel room. The first day was spent doing some shopping and otherwise settling in for the week. That night they grilled steaks for dinner and sat out on the balcony drinking wine. They talked about nothing of consequence mostly because both Todor and Hermione were unusually quiet. Hermione turned in early, still tired and sore from the last few weeks of exceptionally long days at the Department of Mysteries. Todor kept nodding off in his chair until finally Pietra sent him to bed. When Todor left, Viktor poured himself another glass of wine and sat back down.
"Hermione seems really tired," Pietra said.
Viktor nodded. "She has had some very long days at work lately."
"What does she do again?" Pietra asked.
"Research and development," Viktor answered automatically.
"Yes, but what does that mean?" Pietra said.
Viktor looked at her and sighed. "Honestly, I do not know exactly. I know she has a lot of control over her schedule and her projects. I know she has a lot of leeway to do things like make Portkeys. And I know that sometimes her work takes a terrible physical toll, but she does it anyway."
Pietra's brow wrinkled with concern. "That doesn't sound good."
"It is not, but what can I do? She keeps her own council concerning these things."
"That must be difficult for you," Pietra said sympathetically.
"It can be. I wish she would find a different job."
They sat sipping their wine for a while and watching the sunlight fade along the water.
"You two seem close," Pietra said.
"Yes," Viktor said. "We have known each other a long time."
Pietra arched an eyebrow at him. "Are you in love Viktor?"
He grunted at her. "Love. That is a little word that means too many things."
"You know what I mean," Pietra said. "Are you thinking about the future?"
He shrugged. "Planning for the future did not work for me before. I think it is best to just take things as they come."
"Oh please," she said.
"What about you then?" Viktor said, turning the tables. "You are back with Todor. Are you thinking about the future?"
She sighed. "Touché."
He chuckled, but then got quiet again. "She is a complicated witch."
"Too complicated?"
He shook his head. "I do not know."
"She certainly has a hot temper," Pietra said.
"Not really," Viktor said defensively. "But she does have buttons that should not be pushed."
"And Todor pushed one?" Pietra said.
"Yes. I told him not to bring up the war around her."
"Ah," Pietra said. "The war."
"Yes," he said quietly.
"I suppose you read that article."
He huffed derisively. "Please, the press says a lot of garbage, especially that Skeeter woman. She made ridiculous claims about Harry, Hermione, and me when I was at Hogwarts."
"I'm sure," Pietra said. "But at the very least, she was involved with that ginger we met yesterday."
"Yes," Viktor said grimly.
"Did you see how he was staring at her?" she said.
"Yes," he said.
"That doesn't concern you?"
"No. He was unkind to her."
Pietra raised her eyebrows. "He must be very brave."
"I do not know the whole story," Viktor said. "I cannot see her going back to him though."
"I don't know, Viktor. There's a lot of history there."
"I know." He sighed. "But she and I have our own history."
"At least she seems mostly clean now," Pietra commented.
Viktor looked at her.
"I noticed that Todor is often awkward around her. I asked him about it. He told me that they smoked together in Amsterdam. You know how hard it is for an addict to be around other addicts. I'm surprised it doesn't bother her. Although, she clearly still drinks."
"She was never really an addict," Viktor said. "She smoked a few times that weekend but not before or since."
Pietra raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Still, I guess she reminds him."
"I guess," Viktor said.
"Why is it never easy?" Pietra said.
"I do not know," Viktor replied. "But it never is."
xXx
The next morning, Hermione was up early making coffee. She was surprised when Todor came in from the hallway.
"I thought I was the only one awake," she said.
"No," Todor said. "I have been down to the docks. I found a fishing tour. We could all go."
Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so." She found another cup and poured him some coffee.
"You do not like boats either?"
"I like boats fine. I just don't want to go fishing."
"You do not have to fish. You can sunbathe."
"I'd rather sunbathe on the beach."
"Me too," Pietra said, coming into the kitchen.
"So, neither of you want to go fishing?" Todor said with a mildly hurt expression on his face.
Pietra leaned over and kissed his cheek. "No darling."
"Who is going fishing?" Viktor said, coming into the room scratching his head. Hermione smiled to see him all rumpled from sleep.
"I guess just you and me," Todor said with resignation.
"What time?" Viktor asked.
"We need to be there at nine," Todor said.
Viktor looked at the clock. "That soon?"
"Come on," Todor said. "Go get cleaned up. I will make breakfast."
Viktor grimaced. "Do us all a favor and just order it."
Pietra and Hermione laughed. Todor shrugged and picked up the magical menu for room service.
xXx
After breakfast, Todor and Viktor headed to the docks and Pietra and Hermione went down to the beach. Hermione still wasn't entirely comfortable with topless sunbathing, but it was a private beach and the hotel had an outdoor bar and attentive staff. She got settled on to a chaise lounge. Pietra got out some magazines and started flipping through them, while Hermione pulled a book from the tote she'd brought down to the beach. A waiter came over and took their drink orders and was soon back with a Mai Tai for Pietra and a Zombie for Hermione. The drink was strong and Hermione was tired. She slipped off the sarong she was wearing and stretched out. The sun was so warm and the chaise was so comfortable, that she fell sound asleep.
xXx
Viktor could not have been more irritated with Todor. He couldn't remember the right dock, so by the time they got where they were supposed to be, the boat was gone.
When they got back to the hotel, the women were already on the beach, so they quickly changed and headed down. Viktor figured at least they could salvage the rest of their day. Todor was ahead of him as they walked the path down to the sand. Hermione's chaise lounge was closest to the path and Viktor heard Todor gasp and saw him lean over her.
"What happened here?" Todor said, reaching out his hand to Hermione's side.
"Don't," Viktor said, but it was too late.
Todor touched the thick pink scar that ran along Hermione's side and she woke furious. She grabbed his hand, her eyes flashing.
"I'm sorry," Todor whispered, his eyes wide. "Please do not hurt me."
Pietra stirred next to her and Hermione shoved Todor's hand away from her. She grabbed the sarong and wrapped it around her.
Missing what had just happened, Pietra yawned. "Why are you back so soon?"
"We missed the boat," Viktor said.
"What?" Pietra said, opening her eyes.
"My fault," Todor said.
Pietra snorted. "Typical."
"I know," Todor said contritely.
"I'm going back inside," Hermione said.
Viktor followed a couple of paces behind her. He could feel the rage rolling off her. When they reached the hotel, he expected her to explode in a steady stream of invectives against Todor, but she remained silent and got in the shower instead. He thought to join her, but she'd locked the door. He sighed and went back into the lounge and got a beer out of the refrigerator. He could see Todor out on the balcony and joined him.
"Hey," Todor said, as Viktor stepped outside.
Viktor grunted a greeting at him and went to stand beside him at the railing.
"Pietra is taking a shower," Todor said.
"So is Hermione. What the hell were you thinking?"
"I barely touched her," Todor said.
"You should not have touched her at all," Viktor said furiously, but kept his voice low. "You are lucky you still have a hand. If Pietra had not been right there, I shudder to think what would have happened."
"I was just so shocked to see those scars. What the hell? She didn't have that when I got her from the hospital."
"She did, but she automatically glamours over them. It's second nature. She does it all the time, but the charm wears off if she falls asleep," Viktor said.
"The one on her side is so big? What happened to her?" Todor asked.
"I do not know. She does not talk about them."
"All this time you have been with her and she has not told you?"
Viktor shook his head. "No."
xXx
Hermione didn't emerge from their bedroom until late that night. Viktor respected her clear desire to be alone and stayed out of the room. He and Todor and Pietra were sitting around the fire pit after dinner having drinks on the balcony when Hermione finally made an appearance. He was surprised to see her in a bikini with a sarong wrapped around her waist. The outfit in and of itself wasn't that unusual given that Pietra was dressed in much the same way, as were women all over the hotel. The surprising part was that she hadn't bothered with the charm to cover the scars. She stepped out on the balcony, poured herself a martini from the pitcher on the side table next to Viktor and went to stand at the railing. She drank the martini without comment and no one said anything to her. The other three just kept glancing to Hermione and then back at each other. Pietra who hadn't seen them earlier was wide-eyed. Finally, when Hermione had finished her drink, she came back to the fire pit, poured herself another, and took a seat beside Viktor.
Todor and Pietra glanced at Viktor. Hermione sipped her drink.
Finally, Todor broke the silence. "What happened to you?"
Viktor's mouth dropped open in shock, but Hermione rested a cool hand on his knee. "It's alright." He looked at her and she gave him a sad smile.
"The one on my chest," she began, "happened fifth year…" She talked for the next half hour about battles, bad decisions, and heroic rescues. It was a tale of blood and loyalty, sacrifice and loss. When she was done, Pietra was crying. Todor just sat with his mouth open. Viktor sat silent beside her, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.
"I understand why the scars are there. I do not understand why the one on your side is so big. Should it not have shrunk more by now like the one on your chest?" Todor asked, trying to wrap his head around everything she'd told them.
"It was casting the shield charm and holding it for so long. The curse left a gaping wound but funneling all the magic with a wound like that, let's just say I wouldn't recommend it." Hermione said.
"Does it still hurt?" Pietra asked. "It looks like it still hurts. So, does the one on your back."
Hermione shrugged. "They all hurt some. Cursed scars always do, but I've gotten used to it, like background noise." She stood. "I haven't eaten since breakfast. I'm going to go scrounge up something in the kitchen."
Viktor got up and said to Todor and Pietra, "I'm going to go scramble her some eggs. She's a terrible cook. The only dishes she cooks well serve at least ten people." He went inside.
xXx
Hermione ate eggs and toast at the bar in the kitchen while Todor and Pietra remained outside quietly talking. Hermione looked at Viktor who had flicked his wand to clean up the kitchen. He was sweet. She sighed. "Viktor."
He turned around. "Yes."
"You might want to sleep in one of the extra bedrooms tonight."
His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "You are angry with me?"
"No, of course not, but…"
"But what?"
"I'm likely to have nightmares tonight…of the screaming, wand-in-hand variety," she said quietly. "It's best if I sequester myself in the room behind a muffling charm. I can take one of the other bedrooms if you prefer."
"You have had nightmares in bed with me before. I have always managed."
"Not that kind. I don't want to hurt you."
He frowned. "Did you ever hurt Ron?"
She blinked at him, startled at the question. He never brought up Ron. "No, but—"
"Then why would you hurt me?" Viktor asked gently.
"Because Ron belonged in the context of the dream. He was part of what happened. It was comforting to wake up and see him alive and well. I'm just worried I might mistake you…"
"For a Death Eater?"
She nodded and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "Some of them were—"
"Eastern European," he finished for her.
She nodded again. "I just don't want to be asleep and half out of my mind with fear and accidentally hurt you."
He considered it for a moment. "No," he said. "You are formidable but you are my lover. We sleep together. I will take my chances. I can defend myself if necessary." She closed her eyes and he put his arms around her. "You are wound up, come let me unwind you." She pressed her forehead against his shoulder and he kissed the top of her head before leading her into the bedroom.
xXx
She wasn't wrong about the nightmares. At two o'clock in the morning she woke screaming Ron's name, Viktor rolled off the bed shouting "Lumos!"
Hermione was on her feet, wild-eyed and panting with her wand gripped tightly in one hand and the other pressed against the scar on her side.
Viktor called her name and she looked at him, glassy-eyed and unseeing. "It is Viktor, Hermione. I will not hurt you. Please do not hurt me."
She seemed to focus then and put her wand down on the nightstand. She trembled as Viktor crawled across the bed toward her. "You are alright," he said soothingly. She nodded but remained standing. He got out of bed and got their dressing gowns, settling hers across her shoulders. "Come," he said. She put her arms through the sleeves of the robe and followed him. "I will make you some tea," he said.
"I'd rather have whiskey if it's all the same to you," Hermione said. She held out her hand and a pack of cigarettes flew across the room. She set one between her lips with trembling hands and lit it with a snap as she crossed the room to go out on the balcony. Viktor brought her two fingers of whiskey neat.
She stood at the railing, looking out at the inky blackness of the sea in the moonlight. Viktor stood next to her and sipped his own drink. "What did you leave out of the story?" he asked.
She looked at him and then took a sip of her drink before saying, "I initially cast the shield charm, because when Ron and Harry got to me, a Death Eater cast a curse at me and Ron dove to intercept it. He saved my life, but it split his face open along his jaw. I could see the bone and there was so much blood. I cast the spell to protect Ron and Harry was able to get behind it and keep fighting until the Aurors arrived. Ron came to just before they got there and was helping Harry. When I finally passed out and dropped the shield, Ron grabbed me and Disapparated, but in his condition the outlay of magic to get us both to St. Mungos cost him dearly. He was in and out of consciousness for a few days and then fell into a coma for weeks. It took ages for his magic to be fully restored."
"Ah," Viktor said.
"The curse did a lot of damage to him. It was a long and painful recovery."
"For both of you," Viktor said.
"Yes," Hermione said. "For both of us. I was on blood-replenishing potion for a long time."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said, putting his arm around her.
"Me too." She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the railing and put her face in her hands. "I'm just so exhausted."
Viktor took her arm. "Come sit down." He led her over to the fire pit and they sat down on the sofa. He lay back against the pillows and she snuggled against him. "You are working too much."
She let out a soft snort. "What are you talking about? We're on vacation."
"After weeks of sixteen-hour days for you. And you're planning to leave early."
"I have two projects going right now," Hermione protested. "I need to get back to them."
"I thought you told me Unspeakables only work one project at a time."
"Usually, yes," she said. "But one of my projects is long-term, it'll likely be another year or two before it's finished. The other is much simpler. A few months and it should be done."
"And so, they said you could not take the whole week?" Viktor asked pointedly.
"No. It doesn't work like that. I set my own schedule," she said quietly.
"Ah, so you can stay and get some real rest."
She sighed.
"You need to learn to pace yourself and take breaks," Viktor said. "Or you will burn out. I have seen this happen to athletes. They over train, over party, spend too much time with teammates. It is not healthy and eventually it affects their game. This can happen to you as well. You push too hard."
Hermione knew he was right. She did push too hard. She always had, but when she was in school Ron and Harry were there to pull her away and make her take breaks. Ever since she'd found out she was a witch and that there was a whole world where she belonged but never knew about, she'd felt like she was playing catchup. She still felt that way even though she knew that it wasn't true anymore. "Alright. I'll stay."
He smiled and hugged her to him. "Good," he said. "Want to go back to bed?"
"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to sit out here and look at the stars for a while."
Viktor kissed the top of her head. "That sounds good."
