March: Trials and Tribulations
In the weeks leading up to Draco's trial, Hermione had trouble focusing, even at work, which wasn't like her. She found it particularly distressing not to able to lose herself in research, and found herself going home early each day and hitting the bottle quite hard in order to fall asleep at night. Viktor was back and forth for Quidditch matches. When he was home, she reined in the drinking. When he was away, she didn't bother.
Viktor was supposed to be on a five-day streak of away games when he caught the Snitch extremely early in the last match and came home early in the afternoon instead of that night or even the next day as he normally would.
Hermione was asleep on the sofa in his flat. She stirred when she heard the pop of him Apparating into the parlor.
He muttered an expletive under his breath and went into the kitchen. She was sitting up when he came back out. "What are you doing?" he said, holding up a mostly empty bottle of Ogden's Fire Whiskey.
"What?" she grumbled, pushing her hair back and getting to her feet. "I had a few drinks last night, so what?"
"Given the state of the bin, it was more than a few and more than just last night."
"I can't sleep, all right? If have a few drinks, I fall asleep," she said. Her mouth felt like an ashtray.
He frowned at her. "You have to stop this."
"I just need to get through the trial, okay?"
He shook his head. "No. This has been going on for weeks. I know you think you've been hiding it from me, but I'm not blind, Hermione."
"Just let me get through the bloody trial!" she shouted. She went into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her and cast a locking charm for good measure and then a silencing charm, so she couldn't hear him shouting from the other side of the door. She started the shower.
xXx
Viktor paced in the parlor. He'd tried following her into the bathroom, but she'd locked him out. "You are impossible!" he shouted at the door, but he knew she probably couldn't hear him. She generally followed a locking charm with a silencing spell. He looked around the room. Her clothes were strewn everywhere. An overflowing ashtray was on the coffee table even though he had repeatedly asked her not to smoke inside. Apparently, she had decided that only meant when he was at home. Growling out a few more expletives about her and her habits, he drew his wand and began cleaning the flat. When he was done, he took a seat in the armchair facing the bathroom door and waited for her to emerge. She did about an hour after she went in there. She was wrapped in her bathrobe and was clearly intending to go to their bedroom and change when he called her name. She stopped in the hall, her back to him, and he wondered if she would turn around. To her credit, she did and came and stood before him.
"I'm sorry," she said contritely. "I know you don't like me smoking inside, and I know I've been drinking too much lately. I had intended to clean things up before you got home. I assume you won. You must have caught the Snitch early to be back so soon."
In spite of himself, he smiled. "We did win, although theoretically, the other Seeker could have caught the Snitch early, and I would still be home. But yes, I caught it just twenty minutes into the game." He sighed. "Sit. Please."
She cinched her robe tighter and sat on the sofa across from him. "Thank you for clearing up in here," she said.
He knew what she was doing. She was being conciliatory and polite, and in a minute, she would slip into his lap and distract him from the matter at hand, but today he was not in the mood to be distracted. "I am worried about you."
"You needn't be. I told you, I just need to get through the trial. I'm on edge is all."
"I understand that," Viktor said. "But, this behavior is very bad for you. Every time I leave now, I worry about what I will find when I come home. I cannot take off work to stay with you. I am sorry. I would if I could."
"I know that, but I'm not asking you to. I'll be fine."
He shook his head. "You are not fine."
"But I will be. I just—"
"The trial is not for another week. You cannot go on like this. You need someone to come and stay with you or you need to go stay with someone else until the trial. You need looking after, Hermione, and I cannot do it right now."
She shook her head. "I'm not a child. I don't need to be minded."
"No," he agreed. "You are not a child. You are an adult suffering from very adult problems. You need help."
She shook her head again, but a tear slipped down her cheek.
"I am not trying to upset you. I am only saying you should not be alone right now."
"Who would you have me turn to, Viktor?" She wiped her cheek with the sleeve of her robe. "You are who I have, and as you've already pointed out, you're unavailable."
He sighed. "Surely, there must be someone, a coworker, or an old school friend."
She glared at him through more tears. "Please. Unspeakables aren't exactly the chummy sort, and I think you know who my school friends were."
"Perhaps Harry—"
She let out an agonized laugh. "Really? Because I spend so much time with him?"
"Surely, he would not turn you away in a time of need."
She closed her eyes and pressed a hand over her mouth for a long moment. Finally, she said, "And how am I to explain my need Viktor?"
"You could try the truth," he said. "It is not as though Harry is unaware of the trial."
"Of course, he's aware of the trial," she said hotly. "How do you imagine he's spending his nights?"
He frowned at her. "I would rather have you drinking among friends than drinking alone."
"Really, even if one of those friends is Ron?"
His frown deepened. "I was not suggesting you reach out to him."
"They're not separate. I guarantee you Ron is staying with Harry and Ginny right now. Draco almost killed him. I'm guessing Harry and Ginny are trying to hold him together before the trial. You want me to invite myself into that? Is Ginny meant to throw out her brother, so she can watch over me, or are we all to be one big happy family again?" She was crying in earnest now. "How is that supposed to work?"
Viktor sighed and knelt in front of her. "It is not. I am sorry. Forget I said anything." She couldn't stop crying. At a loss for what to do, he picked her up and carried her back to the bedroom. He put her in bed and curled up behind her and held her while she sobbed.
When Hermione had eventually cried herself to sleep, Viktor slipped out of bed and went into the parlor to write a letter to Pietra.
xXx
Two days later, as Viktor was preparing to leave for another set of away games, there was a knock on the door. Hermione answered it to find Pietra standing in the hallway. "Hullo," she said. The two women hugged. "What are you doing here?" Hermione asked.
"Todor is painting a mural in Pleven. I just finished doing a portrait in Ruse, so I thought I would see what you two were up to."
"All right then," Hermione said, smiling. "Come in." She gave Viktor a knowing look as Pietra made her way into the flat.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I must go if I am to make my Portkey in time. I trust you two can manage."
"I think so," Pietra said. "I'll just put my things in the guest room." She headed down the hall.
Hermione turned to Viktor and arched an eyebrow. "Seriously? You got me a childminder?"
He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "She is your friend too. I will return as soon as I can. I will be there for the trial if I can make it." He held up crossed fingers. "We will hope for an early Snitch." He drew his wand and Disapparated.
Pietra came back into the parlor. "So, what would you like to do today?"
"Seeing as how it's Thursday, I should probably go to work."
Pietra raised her eyebrows. "Really? Viktor said you hadn't been going in much."
Hermione sighed and sat down in one of the armchairs. "What did he tell you?"
"Only that you were having a hard time before the trial, and he was worried about you."
"So, he asked you to come look after me while he's away."
"I offered. I can't imagine what it must be like to face your parents' murderer in court."
"I don't know for certain that Draco was the one who murdered them, but he let a werewolf into Hogwarts, almost killed Katie Bell with a cursed object, and almost killed Ron with poisoned mead. Not to mention he cast Imperious on a local publican to force her to help him, so even if he wasn't the one who murdered my parents, I still want him in Azkaban."
"Naturally," Pietra said.
Hermione realized she was twisting the sash of her dressing gown into a tight spiral. She stood. "I should get dressed. I'll be out in a minute."
xXx
Pietra turned out to be just what Hermione needed. She didn't know any of the players in the trial, so she didn't have strong feelings about it. She was happy to listen if Hermione wanted to talk about it, but she never initiated a conversation regarding the trial. Instead, she suggested activities. They spent much of the week in various art galleries and museums, both Muggle and magical. They also spent a lot of time walking along the shore. Pietra hadn't seen much of the English coast so Hermione took her to her favorite spots and they walked, sometimes for hours, despite cold and windy weather. Pietra cast warming charms, while Hermione told her stories of family trips to those same cliffs and beaches and even some stories about camping with Ron and Harry during the war. Pietra listened quietly, only asking the occasional clarifying question.
Late at night, or in the wee hours of the morning, when Pietra was asleep, Hermione would go out on the balcony to smoke and have a drink to calm her nerves. Being outside was a tonic despite the weather. A warming charm always made it bearable.
xXx
The day of the trial Viktor was playing a match in Germany against the Heidelberg Harriers that had started the previous night. His presence at the trial seemed increasingly unlikely.
"Good morning," Pietra said as she came out onto the balcony in her dressing gown. She took in Hermione's appearance. "You didn't go to bed."
"No," Hermione said. "Couldn't sleep."
"You've been out here all night?"
"Essentially, yes."
"Okay. I'll make coffee. What would you like for breakfast?"
Hermione shook her head. "I don't think I can eat."
Pietra looked at the bottle of whiskey on the table next to her. "You should put something on your stomach."
"I might be able to manage a bite or two of toast. Just dry though."
Pietra nodded.
Hermione stood. "I'm going to take a shower." She thought once she was under the spray that she might cry, but she didn't. She didn't feel sad or angry. Mostly she felt nothing and was resigned to that, appreciated it even, but she didn't know how long that would last, especially once she was in the gallery with Harry and Ron and his family and their friends. The couldn't imagine the numbness would hold in all that emotion. She desperately hoped it would. She turned off the shower and got ready. When she stepped out of her bedroom in traditional robes, Pietra cocked her head.
Hermione looked down at her outfit. "What?"
"I don't think I've ever seen you dressed like that."
Hermione shrugged. "I dress like this most days. My office is very traditional."
"Of course." Pietra handed her a cup of coffee. "Your toast is ready. I'm going to go get dressed."
"Thank you. For everything." Hermione took a bite of the toast.
"You're welcome." Pietra smiled and squeezed her arm before going back to the guest room.
The toast might as well have been cardboard in Hermione's mouth. She managed to choke down a bite and then abandoned it as a bad job. She finished her coffee and went back out on the balcony for a cigarette. She'd been smoking a lot lately and reminded herself to cut back once the trial was over. It was a nasty habit, and she knew she should stop. Even though witches and wizards weren't susceptible to the diseases associated with smoking, she knew Viktor didn't like it. She didn't like it either. She didn't like the way it made her clothes or breath smell. She was very self-conscious about the need to brush her teeth more, which made her think of her parents and how disappointed they would be to know she was smoking. Even though her father had smoked, he'd always regretted it. She sighed as she finished her cigarette and cast the spell to make the butt disappear.
"Are you ready?" Pietra asked from the door of the balcony.
"As I'll ever be."
xXx
One of the things the Ministry of Magic did when Shacklebolt took over was to reopen trials to the public in the interest of transparency. As a result, the great hall at the Ministry was crowded when Hermione and Pietra arrived. Hermione had a ticket to the trial, because she was an interested party, but Pietra didn't, so she had to apply for a lottery number for one of the limited seats.
"I'm so sorry," she said to Hermione. "I may not be able to get in with you."
"That's okay. I'll be fine." Hermione didn't exactly feel fine. She felt wooden. She looked around. She could see Ron's red hair above the crowd on the other side of the room. She assumed he was with Harry, but Harry was considerably shorter, so she couldn't see him. She knew they would both get in. Ron, like her, was considered an interested party. And Harry was Harry. She took a deep breath as the tones sounded. Percy Weasley announced that interested parties should take their places in the courtroom. Pietra hugged her. "I'll see you when I can. I'll wait out here if I don't get a seat."
Hermione nodded. "Thank you." She made her way to the door that was glowing with a green light. Ron and Harry were closer to the door than she was, so they were ahead of her. Ron took the first seat on the end of the balcony overlooking the courtroom. Ginny sat next to him and then Harry. When Harry saw Hermione, he spoke to Katie Bell who was sitting next to him and she slid over so Hermione could sit next to Harry.
"Thanks," Hermione said quietly to Katie and sat down, leaving Katie in the other end seat.
"Are you okay?" Harry whispered.
She nodded, afraid that if she spoke, it would be obvious that she wasn't. Ginny leaned over Harry and squeezed Hermione's hand. "Come to the Burrow after."
Hermione squeezed back but didn't answer the invitation. She closed her eyes and blew out a slow breath. Ginny sat back and another door opened on the other side of the room to let in the people who'd drawn lottery numbers. Unfortunately, Pietra was not among them. Hermione tried to blank her mind and not think about what might happen, but it was difficult. She could feel someone's eyes on her. She glanced over to see Ron watching her. He looked grim faced, but when she glanced at him, he lifted one corner of his mouth and nodded slightly. She nodded back but then faced front again. The room was called to order and the lights dimmed, leaving only a dais in the center of the room lit. The quiet murmuring of the crowd stopped and a hushed silence descended as members of the Wizengamot filed in and took their seats. The witch they'd voted to make Inquisitor for the trial, took her seat across from the dais. Draco was brought in. He was wearing black formal robes and his hair was cut nicely. He would have looked good if he'd hadn't been so pale and drawn. His right ear was missing its lobe. He sat with his damaged ear toward them. A shiver ran through Hermione as she recalled the bit of flesh in her mouth. She fought back a gag. Harry leaned over and whispered. "Steady."
She nodded but didn't look at him. If she looked at him, the sympathy in his eyes would be her undoing. Percy Weasley stood next to the Inquisitor. He read aloud the crimes Draco was accused of committing. When he got to his actions against Katie, Hermione took her hand and Katie looked at her gratefully. Behind them, Madam Rosmerta let out a brief cry when the Imperious was listed. When Percy read out the bit about poisoning Ron his voice cracked a bit and Harry took Hermione's other hand. She glanced down and realized everyone in the row was holding hands. When Percy read the accusation of the murder of her parents, Hermione closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry and gripped Harry's hand tighter. She felt light-headed and regretted not trying to get down more of the toast. Harry leaned over and whispered. "Not much longer now."
The Inquisitor called for Veritaserum, which was the old way that trials used to be conducted. There was no ridiculous lying and cajoling. The potion was administered, the questions asked, the truth given, and then the sentence was set. Draco didn't even bother with excuses and didn't try to explain his actions. He just mechanically answered yes. When he admitted to killing her parents, a brief cry escaped her lips. Draco looked up at the sound and sneered at her. Hermione quickly pulled her hand from Katie's and put it over her mouth. She dropped Harry's hand and didn't stay for sentencing. She couldn't. She had to get out of that room. Katie seemed to understand and pulled her legs aside to let Hermione out. There was a commotion behind her, but she fled the room as quickly as she could. Unfortunately, when she opened the door to the hallway, a huge crowd of people, many of whom were press, had gathered. Flash bulbs went off. She slid her hand into her wand pocket and touched the warm wood. "Part," she whispered under her breath and people slid to either side in front of her creating a narrow path to the elevators. She hurried through, ignoring the indignant shouts and the continuously flashing bulbs. She didn't see Pietra, but she couldn't wait. She had to get out of the building. The elevator opened in front of her and there was Viktor, still in his Quidditch gear, sweaty and dirty from the game. She ran to him. He held the elevator for her. When she reached him, he cast a wandless spell to make the doors close. She fell against him and he hugged her to him. "Please get me out of here," she sobbed.
"We are going," he said and held her tighter. The elevator dropped them in the main hall. They stepped into the first fireplace they reached to take the Floo to his flat.
The moment they were inside, Hermione hurried out on to the balcony and clung to the rail taking deep calming breaths. Viktor gave her a moment to herself and went to make her a cup of tea. A couple of minutes later, he stepped out on to the balcony and handed her the cup. "Drink this."
Hermione took a sip of the hot, sweet tea. He'd remembered she liked honey and lemon rather than milk and sugar. She smiled at him gratefully. He really was kind.
"What happened?"
She shook her head. "They got to the charge of murdering my parents and he said yes and then sneered at me in that same awful petty way he used to look at me in school, as if killing my parents was just another schoolyard dispute." She shook her head again. "I had to get out of there."
There was a knock on the door.
"If it's some vulture from the press, I have nothing to say," Hermione said.
"Of course." He answered the door to Pietra.
She followed him out onto the balcony. "I saw you come out of the courtroom but I couldn't get to you. Then when you left with Viktor, I stayed to hear the verdict."
"And?" Hermione asked.
"Life in Azkaban. Wand destroyed."
Hermione felt her knees go week and the teacup slipped from her hand. Ever the seeker, Viktor caught it before it hit the ground. With his other hand he caught Hermione under the arm. "Come sit down."
xXx
Ron heard Hermione's anguished cry in the courtroom and saw her hurry out. He went after her, but when she parted the crowd, the path closed behind her, and he had to struggle through them to get to her. He wondered what spell she'd used. He needed to learn that one. He could see the woman he'd met at the Magenta Comstock event last year struggling to get to Hermione as well. She must not have been able to get a ticket inside. Just as Ron was about to break out of the crowd, he heard the elevator doors open and there stood Viktor.
"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "That fucking guy."
Hermione's friend who'd been struggling against the crowd had made her way next to him. She gave him an odd look. He ignored her and turned around to go back into the courtroom, but when he reached the door, he didn't go in. What was the point? Draco was guilty. They were going to send him to Azkaban, if not for life, for a long time. He'd hoped to offer some comfort to Hermione. Maybe even hug her, but that was probably a long shot. As soon as he saw all the reporters standing around with cameras, he knew she'd never hug him. Still, he wanted to speak to her. He remembered her sitting next to his bed when he awoke from being poisoned. Prior to that he'd been such a prat to her, and she'd been, at first, hurt and then pretty nasty back, but when he'd opened his eyes, the look of utter relief on her face had told him all had been forgiven. He'd wanted her to be his girl right then, but of course, there was Lavender to be dealt with, and that took him way longer than it should have. Finally, that summer, they'd gotten on the same page, and Hermione was his, well and truly his. That had been the only good thing about the war and being on the run: Hermione warm in his bed at night. But now she kept Viktor's bed warm. The number of women sharing Ron's bed didn't matter. They weren't the right woman, which wasn't to say some of them weren't great. Some of them were lovely and kind and smart and funny. Maybe he could have even loved some of them, but he didn't let them stay long enough for that. He didn't want someone new. He wanted to fix what he'd broken. He wanted the life he was meant to have, not some cobbled together life that he'd stuck together with broken pieces and alternate parts. He and Hermione belonged together. He knew that, felt it deep in his bones. He just didn't understand why she persisted in staying with Viktor. He couldn't fathom what sort of hold Viktor had on her that would make her stay. It didn't make sense. She belonged with Ron. They were fated to be together, so he couldn't understand her stubborn resistance to working things out.
The courtroom doors opened, and people began pouring into the hall. Harry and Ginny found him, and then the rest of the family began gathering around them. "Let's go home," his mother announced. "This is a cause worth celebrating." Ron dutifully followed everyone to the main hall to take the Floo back to the Burrow even though he didn't feel much like a party. He'd heard Ginny ask Hermione to come back to the Burrow too, but since Viktor had shown up, he doubted she would bother. He wondered how she would spend her evening and whether she felt like celebrating. He doubted she would. After all, Draco going to Azkaban wasn't going to bring her parents back. He thought about the night they'd found them, how the parlor had been awash in blood. She'd called the police on the telething, and Harry had stayed to help her deal with them, because Ron and Ginny didn't exist in the Muggle world, and their presence would have raised too many questions. He remembered her thundering silence upon their return to the Burrow. The following week he still hadn't recovered enough to do magic, but he'd gone to help clean her parents' house anyway. He'd felt useless. The others made quick work of it with their wands, while he took the rubbish bins to the curb.
She'd moved through life like a zombie after that. Prior to their deaths, she'd been getting better, healing from her wounds, and making plans for the future. She'd tried to keep his spirits up about his condition. She'd been playful and sexy and had kept him from slipping completely into the abyss from his lack of recovery. After her parents were killed, she fell headlong into that abyss, bypassing him on her way down. He couldn't catch her, couldn't even slow her descent. All he could do was watch her fall. Then they were both in the hole, and he'd resented that she couldn't help him anymore, so he'd made it worse. He'd made everything so much worse, because he was shit. No wonder she stayed with Viktor. Viktor wasn't shit. Viktor was the kind of man who showed up still dirty from a match to be there for his woman. Ron knew then that his willingness to show up was the hold Viktor had over Hermione. He wanted to go to her and tell her that he would show up. That he was better now. He wasn't sick or weak. He was strong. He was the man he used to be before he got hurt. He was better even than that man. Better than the man she fell in love with. He was a strong wizard, a smart business man, and he had money. He could take care of her. He could be there. If only she would let him.
xXx
Hermione changed into jeans and a heavy jumper and went back outside. Since the war, she liked to be outside as much as possible. The balcony was the best thing about Viktor's flat. He was starving and exhausted from the long match in Germany. Pietra made cheese sandwiches and a salad for dinner. Viktor ate four sandwiches and a big bowl of salad before going to take a shower. Hermione came in to eat but only took a couple of bites of her salad before getting a glass of wine and going back out on the balcony. She sat staring at the hustle and bustle in the alley. She could hear Pietra cleaning the kitchen and then talking to Viktor when he got out of the shower. They spoke in low tones that she couldn't make out. She finished her wine and continued watching people move about below her on the street. No one else seemed effected by the day's events, but then that had always been her experience. No matter what personal nightmare she might be going through, life went on around her unabated. Life goes on, she thought. How grim. She thought about sitting next to Ron's bed when he'd been poisoned. She'd been so hurt when he took up with Lavender, and the bulk of that year had been so awful, that she couldn't imagine that things could possibly get worse between them, but there she sat. They had never been further apart. It seemed impossible that this was how things had turned out. Viktor stepped out on to the balcony.
"Hermione, come to bed, it is getting late," he said.
She looked up and realized it had gotten dark. She stood and picked up her empty wine glass. "I'm not sleepy, but you look knackered. Go to bed. I'll come in later."
He put his hands around her waist and drew her to him. "Are you sure? You have been out here all day. I could help you sleep."
She smiled and kissed him softly on the lips. "I appreciate the offer, but I need some time to process everything. I promise I won't smoke in the house. I'm going to have another glass of wine, but that'll be it for tonight. Okay?"
"I'm not trying to nag you. I worry."
"I know." She ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry I've worried you. I'll pull it together. I promise."
"I have ten days off," he said. "Let's go somewhere warmer."
She kissed him again. "Sure. We'll talk about it in the morning."
"All right. Do not be up too late."
"Is Pietra still awake?" Hermione asked.
"No, she already went to bed. She has to leave early in the morning."
"I'll just sit out here for a little longer."
He kissed her forehead and went inside. She followed him, got another glass of wine and returned to the balcony. She thought about Ginny's invitation to come to the Burrow after the trial. It wasn't that late. Everyone was probably still up. It would be nice to see the family, to be with people who really understood the depths of what Draco had done. She could go for a little while. If it was awkward, she could just come back.
xXx
Hermione Apparated to the orchard on a rise behind the house. The family were all in the back garden. A big fire was going and they were all sitting around drinking and talking. Her feet were cold and wet, and she realized she'd Apparated without shoes again. She looked down and sighed and cast a wandless non-verbal warming charm. The sound of laughter floated up to her. She felt good just seeing the Weasley's happy and healthy even if she couldn't quite make herself join them. She lit a cigarette and leaned against an apple tree.
She was startled a few minutes later when Harry appeared next to her.
"If you don't want to be noticed, you might want to put out the cigarette." He winked at her.
Hermione felt her face go hot as she stubbed out the cigarette against the trunk of the tree she'd been leaning against. "Good tip," she said with false levity.
"Are you going to join us?"
"Were you sent up here to fetch me?"
"No," he answered honestly. "I saw you and said I was going to the toilet. I Apparated from there."
"Ah," Hermione said.
"Why are you up here instead of down there? You were invited," Harry said.
"I know. I just…it looks like everyone is drinking."
"Draco just got sent to Azkaban. Of course, everyone is drinking," Harry said.
"Right…well…I don't…"
"He's not drunk if that's what you're getting at," Harry said. "He's a had a couple of glasses of ale. That's it."
She shook her head. "I'd rather not deal with him when he's been drinking."
Harry looked exasperated. "But you've been drinking. I can smell it on your breath."
She felt herself blush again and was grateful they were standing in the dark. "Yes, but I don't…"
"Don't what?" Harry asked.
"Nothing. Thanks for coming to check on me. I just needed to…" She shook her head. "I should go." She drew her wand.
"Don't," Harry said but she was gone.
xXx
Hermione went back to Viktor's flat. Apparating on to the balcony, she let herself in quietly, but Pietra was standing in the kitchen drinking a glass of water.
"Where did you go?" Pietra asked.
Hermione opened her mouth to lie, but then answered honestly. "To the Burrow."
"Where?"
"Ron's family's home. Harry and Ginny were there."
"Oh," Pietra said, clearly unsure of how to respond.
"I didn't go in. I just…" She shook her head. "It was a stupid thing to do."
"It's not stupid to want to be with people who've been through what you've been through. I think that's natural. I'm sure there are things they understand, because they experienced them with you, that Viktor or I couldn't comprehend."
Hermione sighed and sat down on one of the barstools facing Pietra. "Maybe, but Ron was there, so I didn't—I talked to Harry briefly. That's all."
Pietra glanced at the bedroom where Viktor was sleeping. "Your ex seems…"
"What?"
"He seemed to want to talk to you today. Like me, he couldn't get to you before you left."
"Ah," Hermione said. "He probably just wanted to see if I was okay, not off the deep end or anything. He was there when I found my parents. It's fair to say I didn't take it well.
"Who could?"
"Right, well, as you can imagine, I wasn't okay for a long time after that. I'm sure he just wanted to make sure I wasn't alone."
Pietra nodded. "I'm so sorry you've been through all this."
"You lost your parents too. A lot of people lost loved ones. I'm not unique in that."
"No, but my parents died fighting for a cause we all believed in. Your parents were Muggles, innocent bystanders to a war they had nothing to do with."
"Yes, except they produced me, and I had rather a lot to do with the war, so I'm sure the Death Eaters saw them as anything but innocent."
"To be sure," Pietra said.
"I was foolish. I should have moved them to safety, but when I suggested it, they wouldn't hear it. I think they just couldn't wrap their minds around the danger. You know?"
"It must have seemed improbable to a couple of Muggles," Pietra said.
"Yes. I think that's it exactly. But I still let them decide, which was stupid. They were my parents, and I was used to them making decisions, but in that case, I should have forced the issue. Obliviated them if necessary, but I didn't, and it got them killed. Draco may have murdered them, but I made it easy for him by letting them continue as though the war didn't happen. It took me a long time to learn to live with that decision."
"I'm sure," Pietra said sympathetically. "But you got through it."
Hermione smiled at her. "Yes. I got through it. And here I am."
Pietra reached across the bar and squeezed her hand. "And I, for one, am very happy about that."
"Thanks," Hermione smiled at her. "I'm exhausted. I'm going to go to bed."
"Good," Pietra said. "Me too."
"Goodnight then." Hermione went back to the bedroom she shared with Viktor. She felt hyper aware of all the little things that had changed in her life. As she slipped naked into bed, she considered that she never used to sleep naked. In school, she shared a dorm with other girls, so she slept in a gown or pajamas. On the run with Harry and Ron, she slept in a T-shirt and underwear with her jeans and boots next to the bed in case something happened during the night. It was so cold in the tent sometimes, even with Ron in bed with her, that she would sleep in long underwear and a jumper. It was difficult conducting any kind of sexual relationship in a tent with Harry so close. They didn't want to be rude, so they were virtually silent, and often mostly dressed, when making love. A silencing charm wasn't terribly effective in a tent, so they were quiet out of respect for Harry's feelings, since he was stuck out on his own without Ginny. She remembered the first time Viktor had made her cry out during sex, how decadent and wrong it had felt to vocalize those sensations. Years of being quiet in bed to avoid detection had created a kind of kink in her sexuality that Viktor had worked hard to unravel. "If I can't hear you," he had said, "how do I know if you are enjoying yourself. Do not hold back. Let go."
So, she'd let go. She'd let go of so many things in recent years that she barely recognized herself sometimes, but she didn't regret letting go of the silence. Sex was better out loud. She rolled over and looked at Viktor sleeping next to her. He was a good lover, better than Ron in many ways, but perhaps that wasn't fair. When she was sleeping with Ron, neither of them had much in the way of sexual experience, so they'd fumbled around together to figure out what worked for them, and the circumstances had been less than ideal. Viktor had had plenty of other lovers before she came along and he was clearly a man who took pride in all of his physical prowess, not just his Quidditch skills. Given the number of women who regularly appeared by Ron's side in the gossip column, Hermione assumed he'd expanded his sexual horizons significantly during the past year, but then, she supposed she had too. She had more sexual experience at this point than she had ever intended, but there was nothing to be done about that, and it was best not to dwell. She rolled onto her back again and stared at the ceiling. She couldn't help but wonder if Viktor was her last lover. At one time, she'd thought Ron was the only man she'd ever be with. Ron was meant to be her first and her last, but now she lay next to Viktor, and she couldn't help wondering whether he was her future as well as her present. If Viktor suddenly professed his undying love, she wasn't sure how she'd respond. She'd never had to think about that when she was with Ron. She grew to love him over time until he filled all the empty places inside her, and there was no question, no doubt. Maybe that was all she needed with Viktor, more time, only there was a problem. When she was honest with herself, which she avoided most of the time, she knew Ron still filled all those places. Despite her best efforts to avoid him, despite never letting him touch her, never talking to him alone, he was there, inside her, always.
She pushed the back of her head into the pillow and berated herself for her stupidity. Ron certainly seemed to have moved on. He was so casual any time they saw each other that she could only assume that her presence wasn't a big deal to him. Sure, he didn't seem to ever want Viktor around, but that was an old jealousy, not a new one. Besides, some men were territorial that way, or so she'd heard. She sighed again and stared at the ceiling. She wished she could be as blasé about seeing him as he was about seeing her, but instead, confronted with the possibility, her stomach twisted in knots and her heart ached while her brain insisted on replaying every aspect of their relationship in which she could have made different choices and had a better outcome. If only she hadn't been so depressed. If only he hadn't been so sick. If only, if only, if only…
She looked at Viktor again. She liked him. She really liked him and respected him. Viktor was a very good man, but somewhere in the depths of her soul, she knew he wasn't her man. She wasn't sure why he stayed. She was certain he wasn't in love with her and never had been. At best, she thought he found her intriguing, difficult, a challenge that he could rise to, but that wasn't love. She knew enough about the world to know that love was not enough, that there had to be more to make a relationship work, but love was important, and she and Viktor didn't have it. Still, the thought of leaving him left her cold. The idea of going back to that big old house in London was too much to contemplate. She wasn't strong enough for that and might never be. Instead, she was resigned to the fact that one day Viktor would leave her, or as he did at the end of last year, simply put her out of the house for some unbearable blunder on her part. She wasn't sure when it was, but their relationship had an expiration date, then again, maybe they all did.
