A/N: I will finish this story so help me god! Thanks for your continued support! Viktor lives somewhere in the Rhodofe mountains and his ancestral home is a loosely based on a combination of the tsarevets fortress and the Ravidanovo castle for those interested in a visual. 3 more chapters to go. Let me know what you want to see.
Sebastian and Rosalind Granger shared a knowing glance over their daughter's head as she bit her lip. The book in her lax grip was disguised as a mundane textbook, and as they both knew it took something of great significance to keep Hermione's mind off scholarly pursuits. Rosalind suppressed a smile as the book slowly descended to her lap as Hermione stared out the train window at the flickering European countryside. Rosalind was quietly relieved at Hermione's request to visit a friend in Bulgaria much to Sebastian's chagrin. Their daughter had been… subdued since then end of the school year. Every year it seemed, she kept them at more of a distance. While Rosalind remembered her own teenage years enough to know that parents only ever received short and highly edited versions of events, she still felt unsettled by the darkness that had settled over Hermione. Thus her blinding smile at the positive response was well worth the quietly strained argument Rosalind and Sebastian had.
The speakers on the train chimed. "Now approaching Sofia". Sebastian immediately jumped up to get their suitcases down while Hermione put away her neglected book with haste. Rosalind smiled softly at her daughter, who's returning smile was wide if a little bemused. The train pulled into the station and came to a stop. "Ready to rumble?" Sebastian asked grinning widely. Rosalind rolled her eyes and Hermione groaned softly at her father's cheesy behaviour.
Rosalind hooked her arm through Sebastian's, steering him away from where their daughter had disappeared. All children grew up, and moved out of their parents shadows. It was natural. What was hard was seeing Hermione disappear where they could not follow, into a world that they did not understand. Rosalind rested her head against Sebastian's shoulder, and he squeezed her hand.
"He seemed nice enough, I suppose," Sebastian grudgingly emitted. Rosalind slapped him on the arm, pulling away to look at her husband.
"You know very well the poor boy was the epitome of charm, no thanks to you, Sebastian."
Sebastian turned to his wife. "Hermione is my only daughter and I have been looking forward to terrorising her potential boyfriends for years."
Rosalind remembered Hermione saying Viktor was a professional athlete and thought of the sharp look he had made even in casual clothes then to her adorably gangly husband in khaki cargo pants. "Yes, love. I'm sure he'll be having nightmares about you."
Sebastian nodded with faux gravity. "As he should." He didn't quite manage to keep the smile of his face however.
Rosalind steered her husband towards a cute cafe she had spied on their way to dropping Hermione off, feeling quite content.
Hermione took Viktor's arm, feeling a touch embarrassed about her rather unseemly haste in leaving her parents. She was as always, grateful for her parents trust in her, she has truthfuly expected a bigger fight from her parents about the stay, but after some Thankfully both her parents had seemed to like Viktor, though Hermione had seen her father put on his stern Your-child-has-4-cavities-stop-feeding-them-so-much-sugar face, when he got a closer look at Viktor.
He cut a very fine figure in jeans and a dark Muggle shirt. He turned to Hermione, giving her one of his small smiles that made her heart feel like it was trying to beat out of her chest. He pulled her off the main street into a discreet alley, he turned to her. "Ready?" He asked, smiling. Hermione smiled back, her heart pounding with nerves and excitement. "Of course," she replied, tightening her grip on his arm. Then, with a crack, they apparated away from the capital.
The squeezing pressure of apparition abruptly released them. Hermione stumbled but Viktor caught her easily. Clear, blue sky greeted her, broken by sharp green covered mountains. Hermione was relieved he hadn't apparated them directly into his home so she didn't disgrace herself immediately in front of his family.
Once Hermione was steady, Viktor put a hand on her lower back, and gestured to the north. "Welcome to my home, I hope you will enjoy your time here. My family is looking forward to meeting you." Viktor said. Hermione felt a flutter of nerves at the reminded of his family, but before the feeling could overwhelm her, her eyes caught on the building ahead of them. On top of a hill embraced by old stone walls was a castle. The black conical towers were reminiscent of Hogwarts, but where Hogwarts looked like a traditional British castle that housed magicians, Viktor's home looked like it had been pulled from the pages of a fairytale. Two thin towers topped with black peaks pierced the blue sky. The body of the castle was dotted with tiny arched windows. The symmetry of the building gave it a more whimsical feeling that the eccentric configuration of Hogwarts - this seemed like a magical place that made sense to Hermione. She loved it, immediately.
She turned to Viktor, sure her expression betrayed everything. "Your home is very beautiful," she told him. Summoning some of her famous Gryffindor courage she headed for the arched entrance.
Hermione pulled her head out of the book she was reading, yawning. She stretched her legs suddenly aware of how stiff they were. The background noise of Viktor's quill scratching at parchment stilled as he threw her an indulgent look over his work. Hermione had been pleased to learn he was continuing to study Transfiguration despite having graduated. As he had told her, the average career span for a professional Quidditch player was quite short, but magic was forever. Hermione quietly cast tempus, which revealed the time to be just shy of 9pm.
After an anxious round of introductions to Viktor's parents and grandparent (during which Hermione could not relax regardless of the open friendliness she received), Viktor had led her to the library. It had exceeded her expectations, and she suspected Viktor of downplaying the library's breadth when he had brought it up to her during their planning. It was a beautiful room, with wide windows towards the front with reading nooks and comfy couches, with magical faux windows towards the book, Viktor had explained, to protect the more rare volumes. Hermione's hands had been itching for a book almost as soon as she had stepped in, and Viktor had been more than happy to indulge her. Contrary to popular opinion, it hadn't been Hermione's presence that had lured Viktor to Hogwart's library - she had merely been a happy bonus he had informed her.
Hermione currently had her feet tucked under her in a well-used armchair, a Charms book in her lap Viktor had helpfully used a translation spell on, which Hermione had immediately demanded to be taught. Viktor had been sat opposite, with a similarly worn with use armchair and a desk in front of him. Between them, was tea and delicious Bulgarian honey biscuits. Hermione has unashamed eaten three in quick succession and Viktor's blatant admiration had roused a fresh round of blushing in her.
Magical lighting, to Hermione's eternal annoyance was far more for mood lighting than practicality, but she took a moment to admire the way the light carved Viktor's face into light and shadow and seemed to catch and warm his dark eyes. Hermione's breath caught a little and Viktor opened his mouth. Whatever he was about to say was abruptly interrupted by an enormous yawn. Hermione threw a hand up to cover her mouth but was deeply embarrassed. Most of her travel today had been of the mundane variety and was therefore contributing to her tiredness.
"Bored of the books already?" He asked, teasing smile made sharp by the shadows. Hermione immediately jumped to protest but was cut off by another yawn. Viktor's laugh was deep and warm, and Hermione's face heated further with embarrassment.
Viktor stoop up gracefully and offered her a hand. "I'll show you to your room, so you can rest," He said, smiling softly at her. Hermione was quite sure she would never grow tired of Viktor's smiles - they changed his face so completely from severe to soft so quickly and their relative rarity only made her prize them more. "Thanks," she replied, slipping her hand into his warm one and he pulled her to her feet. She swayed a little, feet numb at first and Viktor put a steadying hand on her hip. She felt the warmth of his touch all the way to her toes, and allowed him to propel her gently towards the door. He took her hand and tucked it into his elbow with a dramatic flourish. Hermione mock scoffed at him. Viktor's grin widened to show a flash of his teeth and that he was not fooled. The dentist's daughter in Hermione noted his good teeth, while teenage Hermione was struggling to quell the beating of her heart.
It seemed a matter of moments before she was at her door, the castle had a similar sentience to Hogwarts and less mischievousness so it endeavoured to make life easier for its inhabitants (a habit Hermione only half-wished Hogwart's staircase could have been imbued with). Hermione reluctantly pulled her hand out of his arm, Viktor caught it before it could drop to her side and pressed it to his lips. The pressure of his lips, and the warmth of his breath on her knuckles was a brief fleeting moment but Hermione felt it in excruciating detail. Something about being in his home, a place he suited so well, a place Hermione found herself wanting desperately to feel at home in made everything feel so much more acute. "Good night," Hermione said, her voice soft.
He brushed a stray curl of her face, warm fingers brushing her cheek. "Good night Hermione, sweet dreams," Viktor said. With that, he left the way they had come, presumably returning to his study. Hermione's cheek felt cold and her right hand's knuckles burned with the memory of his mouth. Hermione wasn't sure how it was possible to feel so hot and cold at once. She opened the door to her room half in a daze, shucked off her clothes and pulled on pyjamas on autopilot and all but fell into the bed.
Several mornings later, Hermione was once again woken by gentle tapping at the window. A blurry human shape hovered by the window. "I'm coming," Hermione called, pushing off the covers and heading to the bathroom. Viktor presumably continued to do laps of the grounds. After multiple entreaties to join him flying, all of which Hermione had turned down, although with less and less conviction, she usually joined him of a morning as he did his routine. Ostensibly for the fresh air, in truth, for the view.
Hermione was not embarrassed by wanting to watch Viktor fly, after all she had given up the pretence of reading after only two mornings. He had spent his ritual laps whipping past Hermione at such speed her heart would leap up into he mouth. Once he had her lulled into a false sense of security by making more leisurely laps he roped her into releasing the snitch for him to practice as he couldn't cajole or tease her into getting on a broom herself to join him. Hermione watched with half fascination and terror as he whizzed through the air chasing a golden blur with acrobatic feats thrown in just to make Hermione gasp. And, Hermione thought wryly, because she insisted on checking him over for injuries after his more hair-raising manoeuvres, a demand he happily consented to.
Usually, Viktor left out a spare broom for her, in case she got a fit of Gryffindor daring, he had told her, but this morning, it was missing. Stranger still, Viktor was usually attempting to break his brooms sped limit when she slipped out of the garden entrance, yet he was merely making leisurely laps this morning, his feet almost skimming the grass sparkling with morning dew. When he saw her making her way down the steps to the grass he smiled mischievously at her. Hermione's heart leapt in what she told herself was fear, as he dismounted and headed for her. There was a little morning mist weaving between the grass and it stuck to her trousers wetly.
"Morning," Hermione said, her voice soft and a little rough with sleep.
"Good morning," Viktor replied, his voice warm and a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.
He was still holding the broom and made no motion to continue his training and Hermione's heart beat a little faster.
"You will leave tomorrow, so as a parting gift I would ask that you fly with me," Viktor said softly. "I promise not to drop you," he added, smirking. Hermione gaped at him. He had made some small mention of parting gifts being a Bulgarian pureblood tradition and Hermione had rather shyly asked his grandmother to help make his favourite honey cakes as a gift. It had never crossed her mind that he would ask for her to fly as a gift! Then Hermione's intial shock faded and her brain processed his little addition.
"Drop me!" she bleated! She hedged a step away from him.
Viktor caught her had gently, "No, no, I promise not to drop you. You are very safe if you fly with me. And I will use a featherweight charm on you just in case." He was quietly insistent, though the teasing light in his eye was dimming a little and she knew if she stood firm he would not push her. And the truth was, she didn't trust the broom. She looked at Viktor, who was looking back at her steadily. Then she looked at the broom and blinked. It wasn't the sleek, expensive looking broom he usually used for practice but a much more ordinary looking broom. Clearly, he had downgraded to a normal model for her. Hermione's instinctive refusal died a slow death.
Then gathering he nerve before she could overthink it, she nodded at him. Viktor's answering smile was wide and joyous, and all but the last of Hermione's reserve slipped away. Viktor easily mounted the broom and held out a hand to her. Hermione called on her Gryffindor courage and took his hand and mounted the broom. Immediately, she slipped towards Viktor's greater weight and ended up pressed against his chest. He was warm and solid behind her, much, much preferable to the sensation of empty air. Hermione felt the watery sensation of his magic rolling over her as he cast the Featherweight charm.
Then he put his arms around her grip the broom handle and Hermione was compressed quite pleasantly. She felt far safer than she ever had on a broom before, and before too much heat could creep into her cheeks at the feel of his strong arms around her, Viktor kicked off.
Against her will, Hermione emitted a small 'eep' of fear as they left the ground, her whole body tensing, her hold on the broom turned into a death grip as they floated nonsensically off the ground. She gasped as Viktor pressed a kiss to her cheek, distracting her as he leaned forward to skilfully get them moving. The flew sedately forward, and when they turned without incident and had made one small and calm lap of the lawn, Hermione lessened her white-knuckle grip on the broom and relaxed a little in Victor's arms. After a few more laps of this, Hermione was as relaxed as if she were sitting on the ground watching him - which was a relative state of relaxed, but far more than she had expected to feel.
Viktor pressed another kiss to her cheek, and then against common sense, attempted to press one into the feral mess of her hair, before picking up speed a little until they were at a jogging pace and a respectable 5 metres in the air.
"Now, time for the loop de loop." Viktor said, and laughed when she slapped his thigh. Instead of a daring stunt like she had half-feared. Viktor brought them lower, in tightening spirals and figures of eight as the sun crested the tops of the bordering trees. Hermione was giggling by the time the landed with soft impact. Viktor straightened out of his forward posture but made no move to dismount. Hermione had a pleasant warmth swimming in her blood that had very little to do with the fresh air and exercise and everything to do with the young man behind her.
"Not so bad as you feared?" He asked, softly. He tried to sound breezy but she could hear the thread of anxiety.
"It was lovely, thank you," Hermione said, swinging a leg over and turning to face him now they were safely on the ground. Then, with one of her occasional spurts of recklessness she surged forward and kissed him. She felt a half a seconds relief that she hadn't missed his mouth, then a second of anxiety as his lips remained still. Suddenly, he was kissing her back, with a slow kind of passion, the belied the heat behind it.
They pulled away after a moment both breathless, Hermione all but sitting in his lap as much as the broom would allow. Viktor looked her face over for a long moment, his dark eyes intense, before he glanced back up at the house. With a rueful smile, he dismounted and offered Hermione a hand.
"Breakfast?" he asked. She took his hand, her mouth tingling pleasurably, and nodded.
"I'd love a cup of tea, to be honest," Hermione admitted. Viktor immediately sketched a bow as the climbed the steps, leaving the broom propped against the wall for later. "As the lady commands," he responded with mock seriousness.
Hermione smiled back at him, feeling lighter than she could ever remember feeling.