Dinner with Friends
A month passed before there was a break in Viktor's schedule. The four of them decided to meet for dinner at the Leaky Cauldron. Hannah Abbot, who ran the pub and inn, offered them a private room for dinner, so they could eat in peace, and Harry felt like it would be nice for Ginny to have a break from the Three Broomsticks. Unfortunately, when Viktor and Hermione arrived and were shown to the private room where Harry already waited, Ginny wasn't there.
"I'm so sorry," Harry said, standing. "Ginny's night bartender came down with Mumblemumps and she had to fill in. She's really disappointed not to be here."
"I'm sorry she couldn't make it," Hermione said. She was looking forward to seeing Ginny and getting a chance to really talk. They all sat down and a water pitcher floated over and filled their glasses.
"Running your own business seems like a great burden," Viktor commented.
"It can be," Harry said. "But she really loves it. And I have to say, if you want to keep abreast of public sentiment and really know what's going on, being a publican is pretty much the best way to do it."
Hermione chuckled. "So, Ginny keeps tabs for you, while you stay squirreled away at Hogwarts. How convenient."
Harry shrugged. "The kids don't bother about me anymore, which isn't so much the case elsewhere. I still cause a hubbub wherever I go in the magical world. I have to do a glamour charm just to go to the market."
Hermione and Viktor nodded sympathetically. "When we go out it's generally to house parties hosted by friends where we're less likely to be ambushed by the press," she said.
"Or we simply leave England," Viktor said. "Even then sometimes we stay in Muggle hotels or at a private residence."
"Yes, we do that sometimes as well, but I'm more of a homebody. All those years on the run, I suppose," Harry said.
Hermione sighed. "Yes. Sometimes, I still feel like I'm being hunted."
"The press here are relentless," Viktor said.
Harry nodded. "Tell me about it."
Hermione stood. "Excuse me."
When she left the room, Viktor turned to Harry. "I do not understand why the public is so mean to her. They seem to both love her for her accomplishments and hate her for being with me. The things they say…" He shook his head.
Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I think that's just because right after the war people got very caught up in the narrative of her relationship with Ron. You know: met as children, fought side-by-side, their mutual sacrifice so I could finish things with Voldemort, and then their long recovery. The public got caught up in the fairytale of it all and the press kept feeding it with updates."
Viktor frowned. "Yes, well, like many fairytales, there is a grim reality that no one seems willing to talk about."
"How do you—?"
"Sorry about that," Hermione said coming back into the room. "Where were we?"
"We should look at the menus," Viktor said, handing her one. He smiled at Harry. "We are bad about talking and then the waiter comes and we have not chosen our meals."
Harry nodded and opened his own menu, but what he really wanted was for Hermione to go somewhere else so he could find out what Viktor meant by 'grim realities.'
When the waiter came, Hermione ordered shepherd's pie, and Viktor and Harry both got curries. They all ordered Dragon Scale ale to go along with their meals and continued talking while they waited for the food.
Viktor was a lot less brooding than Harry remembered from the Triwizard Tournament, and he regaled them with stories from the current year's Quidditch matches. He wasn't boasting. He told stories of the triumphs of the team as a whole, or funny stories about other players he knew. He was fairly self-effacing when it came to his own accomplishments. Hermione would occasionally comment if she felt that he'd left out one of his significant contributions. Harry, as a big Quidditch fan, enjoyed the conversation very much. It was fun to gain insights into his favorite players. For the most part, Hermione was quiet. If Viktor noticed, he didn't say anything. Like Harry, he did notice her drinking, so when she raised her glass to be refilled by the floating jug for the third time, he leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Make this the last one."
Harry pretended not to notice Hermione glare at Viktor, who sighed and ignored the glare and returned his attention to a story Harry was telling about a fight that had happened at the Three Broomsticks earlier in the week.
As they were getting ready to leave, Harry hugged Hermione and said, "Why don't you two come to our place next time? Dobby can make dinner, and we can relax and enjoy the evening."
"That sounds fantastic," Hermione said.
"Yes," Viktor agreed.
xXx
When they left, Harry Disapparated home. When Ginny returned to Grimmauld Place after midnight, he was still in the parlor.
"Hey, you didn't need to wait up," Ginny said.
He sighed. "I did though. I wanted to talk to you about dinner."
"Oh." Ginny sat down on the other end of the sofa to face him. "Did it not go well?"
"It went fine. Better than I expected actually. I sort of thought it might be awkward, at least at first, but it really wasn't. I guess when I knew Viktor in school he was kind of broody and a little surly, but I think that was mostly due to the circumstances, and you know, he was a teenager then. He was actually a lot of fun tonight."
"And Hermione?"
"Was okay. She was really disappointed you weren't there, and she was kind of quiet but not upset or anything. All in all, it was a good night, if a bit weird to be sitting there with Viktor next to her instead of Ron."
Ginny patted his knee. "I know, luv, I know."
"The thing is when we first sat down we were talking about the issues of dealing with notoriety, and then Hermione got up to use the loo or something, and Viktor commented that he didn't understand the public's love/hate thing with Hermione. I said that, after the war, people had gotten really caught up in the fairytale of her relationship with Ron. Viktor's response was that like most fairytales there was a grim reality underneath that no one wanted to talk about. Except, I really do want to talk about it."
"And?" Ginny said.
"And then Hermione came back, so I couldn't ask him what he meant, but I think it's clear, he knows what happened at the end of their relationship."
"That's not surprising. I mean she had to talk to someone, right?"
"She should've talked to one of us. Or even better, both of us."
Ginny sighed. "Harry, we've been over this. We were dealing with our own problems at the time."
"I would have been there for her, if she'd come to me. She didn't give me the chance."
"I know." She sighed again. "Look, whatever it was that went on between the two of them, we know it was bad. We know he was drinking a lot. We know he wasn't in his right mind. And let's be honest, we both know she wouldn't have left him over something minor. He did something, Harry. Something really bad. Now, I don't know what it was. I don't like to dwell on that too much, because I don't want to be angry at him, and there's nothing to be done about it now anyway. Besides, when she first left, he was in such a state, I was angry at her, which wasn't really fair, but at the time, I felt like she'd just dumped him on us to deal with, and we already had so much on our plate."
"I know. I kind of felt like that too, especially since she didn't bother telling us why."
Ginny squeezed his knee. "Maybe she just couldn't say it. Maybe he cheated on her and she couldn't bring herself to tell us. To her credit, she's never said it publicly either. She's taken a lot of abuse from the press over leaving him and still hasn't said anything. So, I hope Viktor does know, because then at least she's talked to someone."
Harry closed his eyes. He knew Ron had cheated on Hermione at least once, because he'd walked in on him getting a knob job at the Leaky Cauldron. Ron had been three sheets to the wind at the time, and Harry hadn't recognized the witch, but no doubt she was drunk too. After the war, it seemed like everyone was drunk every night. Still, he couldn't think how Hermione would know about that. He'd never said anything, and he couldn't imagine Ron telling her, although, he could be pretty mean when he was drunk, so maybe he did. Maybe it wasn't the first time, although Ron insisted it had only happened that once. Harry looked at Ginny. "I hate this. Viktor is a nice guy, and she seems okay, but I still hate this." The problem was that Ron was better now, back to himself, in some ways better than ever, so it was hard to remember how awful he'd been. He clearly missed Hermione, despite the seemingly endless parade of witches by his side, so it was also hard not to side with him, not to want her to just let go of whatever transgressions he'd made against her in those awful days after the war, but Harry knew that wasn't fair.
"So, you think he did cheat on her then? That's what happened?"
Harry sighed. He couldn't confirm that, he wasn't a hundred percent sure that was what happened between them, and he didn't want to tell Ginny what's he'd seen. He wouldn't betray either one of them, even to Ginny. He shook his head sadly. "I don't know."
Ginny leaned back against the sofa and stared at the ceiling. "What else could it be?"
"I don't know," Harry said again.
"She was so quiet after her parents were murdered."
"Understandable."
"Of course, I didn't mean it wasn't. I'm not sure how I would have survived something like that. I just meant, she was so quiet, it was hard to know what she was thinking. She kind of disappeared into the Ministry, and even when she was home, it was like she was invisible."
Harry nodded. "I should have talked to her more. I should have tried harder. Ron was in no fit state to help her. Why wasn't I there for her? Bloody hell."
Ginny shook her head and frowned at him. "You did help them. You provided most of their recovery care when they finally left St. Mungo's and came to the Burrow."
"But after her parents were murdered, I didn't try to draw her out. I should have talked to her more."
"You died and then you came back. That wasn't an insignificant thing to go through. You weren't in anymore of a fit state to talk her through what happened than Ron was. If anyone should have tried harder with her, it was me."
"But you had your hands full with me," Harry said.
"Right. Everyone had their hands full with injuries, funerals, and rebuilding. She fell through the cracks. It was no one's fault what happened. It just happened, and she coped. Look at where she is now. Two major magical accomplishments in less than two years and living with an International Quidditch star, who's a nice guy. I know you're sad Hermione isn't with Ron, and I know Ron's sad about that. I am too, but she's come out of this okay. You've got to let this play out the way it plays out, because there's nothing you can do to change any of it anyway."
"I just wish I'd done more for her at the time."
"That's not fair. Don't judge what you did then based on how you feel now. You did the best you could. We were all just hanging on after the war, and we survived. That's a win all around in my book."
Harry looked at her and smiled. She was so beautiful and so fierce when she defended him even to himself. "I love you so much."
She smiled at him. "I love you too."
xXx
When Viktor and Hermione returned home, he said, "I think that went well."
"Yes, me too. But I'm sorry Ginny couldn't be there. You'd really like her."
"I am sure I would."
"I was afraid dinner would be awkward, but it really wasn't." Hermione released the charms holding her hair up.
"No. It was fun."
She nodded and went to get ready for bed. Viktor watched her go and thought about their evening. He liked Harry, and he had every confidence that he would like his wife too. He was surprised that Hermione hadn't reached out to them sooner. Perhaps since they broke the ice, she would in the future.
xXx
The next day, Hermione lay on the exam table while Healer Krastevich cast another spell on the scar on her side.
"I think that's it for today," the healer said, pocketing her wand. She held out a hand to help Hermione sit up. "How does it feel?"
"Good."
"Excellent. Let's make it three weeks before your next appointment," Krastevich said.
Hermione smiled. "All right then. Um…"
"Was there something else?"
"I have a medical question, or maybe it's more of a magical question, a friend asked me, and I don't know the answer, and I'm not sure how to go about finding it."
"Ask."
"Well, this friend, has an ex that she was very close to at one point, and even though they've been apart for over a year, she's kind of…connected to him."
"In what way?"
"She always knows when he's nearby even if she can't see him."
"Huh," Krastevich said. "That's an unusual connection. Did one of them do something to precipitate it?"
Hermione cleared her throat and looked away. She said that one time she shared her magic with him.
"Oh. That's a serious bonding ritual."
"She didn't know that at the time."
"It's how people used to marry before the modern spells came in to play."
"Right. Again, she didn't know that at the time. What she wants to know is whether it can be reversed."
"It can. But it takes hours and both parties have to be together. It's also rather painful."
"Oh," Hermione said, crestfallen. She couldn't imagine even broaching the subject with Ron, not that it sounded like anything she wanted to experience anyway. "That probably wouldn't be possible then. Thanks anyway."
Krastevich looked at her, her brow wrinkled in concern. "She should still consider it. Old magical bonds don't break or ease over time. She'll be connected to him for the rest of her life.
"Right." Hermione knew, bond or not, she'd be connected to Ron for the rest of her life anyway.
xXx
Ron stood outside St. Mungo's staring at the entrance. On the outside it looked to be the long-closed department store, Purge and Dowse, Ltd. He didn't want to go in. He hadn't been inside since he was finally released from the hospital after the war, and the idea of going in now left him vaguely nauseated. Perversely, the scar along his jaw was killing him. He had no idea why. Some days it just hurt more than others. The pain was always a dull roar in the back of his mind, but most of the time he could ignore it. Today was not one of those days. Hermione had said this procedure hurt, but it worked. He sighed and stepped through a display window in the front of the old store. She'd never steered him wrong before.
The welcome witch was delighted to meet him and happily told him he needed to go to the fourth floor.
"I'm not staying," Ron said with some alarm.
"Of course not," the witch said warmly. "But that's the floor that deals with curses, hexes and other magically induced damage. You'll be treated as an outpatient. Don't worry, Mr. Weasley."
"Oh. Right then. I'll just go up."
She smiled encouragingly.
He took the elevator and had a moment of panic when he came out on the fourth floor to its rows of beds and healers moving about in their lime green robes. He'd spent months there after the war. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that Hermione had said that, although the treatment hurt, it only took ten minutes. He could do anything for ten minutes. Then he could leave. No problem. No problem at all, only his feet wouldn't move.
"Ron Weasley?" a young healer said. She was lovely. She had long curly blonde hair that reminded him so much of Hermione's that he wanted to sink his hands into it. She was the right height too.
He couldn't help smiling at her. "That's me."
"This way," she said.
He followed her happily, trying to determine the shape of her beneath those lime green robes, but traditional wizarding robes made that all but impossible. It was fun to try though.
"I'm Michelle Cabrera," she said, as they walked down the hall. "I'm studying under Healer Bryant."
"You're a student? When did you graduate?"
"Last June," she said, smiling.
"Ravenclaw?" Ron guessed.
Her smile broadened. "Yes."
He took a risk. "Top of your class?"
She stopped and cocked her head at him. "Yes. How did you know?"
"Just something about you," Ron said warmly. Talking to her reminded him even more of Hermione. She just emanated clever.
She shook her head, smiling. "Okay. This is the treatment room." She opened the door to a small room with a narrow, raised bed in the center. "Since we'll be working on your jaw, it's not necessary for you to change clothes. Just lie down and relax. Healer Bryant will be with you in a moment. Do you mind if I stay for the procedure? It's okay if you don't want me too."
"You can stay. I wouldn't want to interfere with your education."
There was that smile again. "Thanks."
"No problem."
A few minutes later, when Healer Bryant cast the first spell on his scar, Ron regretted telling Michelle she could stay. The pain was intense, and he was trying not to show it. The healer put some kind of gel potion on his hands and began to work his fingers around the scar.
"Try and relax," Healer Bryant said. "I know it hurts."
"It's all right," Ron said through clenched teeth. "Maybe just ease up a bit."
"I'm barely touching you, Mr. Weasley."
"Seriously? It feels like you're trying to pull my jawbone through my skin."
"Can you go a bit longer?"
"Yeah," Ron said, conscious that Michelle was studiously watching the procedure.
The healer cast another spell and then resumed working on the scar for another minute. Finally, he cast a third spell. "That's us done for the day."
Ron sat up and was shocked to realized how much better his jaw felt. He ran his fingers along the scar. His beard was sticky with gel. "That's amazing."
"Yes. It'll take more sessions, but we should be able to make it permanently much less painful."
"Wow," Ron said. "I wish I'd come in sooner."
The healer nodded. "Me too, but I certainly understand your reticence to come back here. Now that you've done this, perhaps you could convince Miss Granger to come in."
"Actually, she convinced me. She's having her scar treated privately."
"Ah," the healer said. "Well, good. As long as someone is seeing to it."
"How many sessions do you think we'll need?"
"Probably ten, maybe a few more. We'll assess as we go." The healer thrust out his hand and Ron shook it. "I'll see you next week then. Michelle will make your appointment." He turned to his young assistant. "Cast a cleaning charm on his beard. He doesn't want to go out with it all sticky."
"Yes, sir," Michelle said, drawing her wand.
Ron smiled as she cast the cleaning charm. He might actually enjoy the next ten weeks.
