Hermione gasped as she saw Viktor's home for the first time. She had to admit, it was not exactly what she had expected. It was an old log cabin, backing onto the shores of the black sea. She thought Viktor would have a sleek, modern house with minimal design and sharp edges. But instead the house was quaint, made entirely of a dark wood that she couldn't place. They apparated right outside of the front door. Viktor led her into the lounge and kicked off his boots, prompting her to do the same. The house was warm, and Hermione felt her cheeks burn from the heat. In the lounge sat a large ocher sofa, adorned with a patchwork throw across it's back and by the homey fireplace sat a large leather armchair. To Hermione's surprise, the cabin was decorated with many photographs, covering a single wall by the entrance to the adjoined kitchen.
"I take bag to room, you make self comfortable." Viktor prompted and she took this time to gaze at each photograph that hung on the wall. There was an image of Viktor with a man that Hermione recognised as Viktor's Father and another man that Hermione could not pinpoint. They all stood, looking austere and mean, in shades of black and grey. She then noticed a technicolor picture of Viktor with a friend that she remembered from Hogwarts. They smiled and cheered, arms wrapped around one another at what Hermione thought must have been their graduation from Durmstrang. Hermione felt herself blush as the image of Viktor winked at her as he beamed and she couldn't help thinking how handsome he looked when he smiled. She sighed seeing a picture of the moment that Viktor dropped his name into the Goblet of Fire and wondered if this was still a fond memory for him. He looked so determined and she remembered seeing him that very day, the first time he had really looked at her. There was of course one of Viktor flying in the world cup and Hermione remembered that event as well, the first time she had seen him play.
"I keep more personal ones in bedroom." Hermione turned as she heard Viktor enter the room again.
"May I see them?" She asked, rather boldly and Viktor nodded, taking her hand and leading her to his bedroom.
The room was warm, with burgundy and gold sheets adorning the larch cherrywood bed. The windows on either side of room were covered by thick deep red curtains and the carpet was a deep blood red. The cream walls were littered with pictures and certificates. Hermione took her time, reading each certificate. Most were for Quidditch, naturally. However, one caught her eye that she had not expected to see. Viktor had graduated the top of his year, scoring the highest marks and receiving the best recommendations from the teachers. Hermione turned to him as he blushed a deep shade of scarlet.
"I never knew you were so studious." She praised him and he simply bowed his head in response. The photographs in Viktor's bedroom were different to those he had in his main room. He had one of his Mother, stood in the kitchen, the sun shining in and casting her in a golden glow. One of himself when he was a child, obviously struggling to sit still for so long, which made Hermione chuckle. Then there was one, that she guessed had not been taken very long ago, where a very young child sat on Viktor's knee as they laughed.
"Is my nephew." He explained and Hermione nodded, remembering seeing the man in the other photograph that she now knew must have been his brother. Hermione gasped as she saw the final three pictures. They were the closest to his bed and the first was the image that Hermione had gifted to him. It warmed her heart that he had placed it in his bedroom, amongst his most intimate photographs. The second was an image of the two of them, sat in the Hogwarts library, holding hands and whispering to one another. Hermione felt a watery smile escape her as she watched herself smile and giggle.
"The little blonde boy take this for me." Viktor explained and Hermione thought of little Colin Creevey and her smile faltered, thinking at his tragic end. The final picture, the one closest to his bed was an image of Hermione, that could have only been taken a week ago, holding a dozen red roses. She cut the ends and arranged them in the picture, smiling at the delicious scent of the flowers and running her fingers along their velvety petals. She had never remembered anyone taking such a picture and she couldn't remember a time that she saw a camera anywhere.
"This is my favourite. I ask Blaguna to set up camera in camouflage." Hermione turned herself, resting her head against his chest, shaking it softly, chuckling at the mischievous nature of the woman.
"I wish I had so many wonderful photographs. Most of mine were lost in the war. The only ones that survived were the ones I placed in Gringotts. Viktor sighed, knowing how lucky he was that he had so many tokens of fond memories and how grateful he should be that he saved so many precious items during the war.
"Come, I vill cook for you." He cooed to her, not beginning to comprehend the kind of day she had experienced.
Hermione curled up on the sofa whilst Viktor cooked. He had enchanted the fire to burn without giving off any heat and Hermione looked into the flames and thought of all her pictures that had been burned at Hogwarts. There was the image of her Ron and Harry in first year that she had always wanted to keep. Harry also had the image and Hermione had asked many times for a copy but had never received one. There was an image of her with the Weasley twins. She remembered their funny expressions in the picture and laughed with a tear stained smile, wishing she still had that image. There was a rather funny one from fourth year of Hermione and Ginny getting ready for the Yule ball. Ginny pulled on Hermione's hair and they laughed together. There were so many more that flitted through her mind that she wished she could have kept, her picture with Neville, a rather steel faced Snape posing beside her after she won a potions competition and so many more. They were all memories, some of people who were gone and she wished she could look upon them just one last time. As she stared into the flames, she felt a kind of haze come over her as she was lulled into deep sleep.