Cafuné: The act of tenderly running fingers through a loved one's hair.
Viktor arrived in his cottage, thrumming with anticipation. He channeled the feeling and cast a blinding Patronus that soared through the window with his message. He quickly checked for letters, changed into a pair of dark grey denims and a linen shirt, and skipped to the bathroom with a silly grin on his face. A little beard trim, a dab of patchouli and white birch beard oil, and a few hairbrush strokes later he decided that he no longer looked like a horse thief, put on his leather trench coat, and tossed the overnight bag over a shoulder before he realized that he had forgotten something vital. Grabbing a pair of secateurs, he cut six Damask roses from his garden, which he bound together with a hastily transfigured silk ribbon. With the roses shrunk and packed away, he Disapparated.
As he landed on Hogwarts grounds, Viktor felt his stomach drop. It had been too fucking long since he had last seen her. He rushed to the gates, hoping that the giant groundskeeper was aware of his arrival. Instead of a friendly, brown, enormous form, however, he was greeted by billowing black robes, long arms crossed over an imposing chest, and a scowl that almost reduced him to a mumbling eighteen-year-old with a less than passable grasp of English.
"Mr Krum."
"Good evening, Headmaster Snape." Viktor was of two minds whether to attempt an exchange of pleasantries or just wait to be let in. Luckily, the headmaster didn't leave him in limbo for long.
"I think I made it perfectly clear that I need to be informed at least twenty-four hours prior to the arrival of visitors. You, Mr Krum, are no exception, despite what Professor Granger might have led you to believe."
One day, Viktor was going to shove his ITF badge up the Headmaster's prominent nose, push him aside with his left hand and march in without waiting to be chided like an eleven-year-old.
"My apologies, Headmaster, but this is not a social call. I am here on duty and wish to consult with Professor Granger about some new evidence we have on the terrorist attack last week."
One day…
"Very well, although the floral scent rising from your backpack suggests otherwise." He stepped aside, gesturing for Viktor to enter. "I'll thank you to make your way straight to Professor Granger's office without a detour, and to tell her that she is not excused from dinner at the Great Hall."
Once again, Viktor wondered why the British said "thank you" when what they clearly meant was "fuck you". Without commenting further, he hastened towards Hermione's office in the Ravenclaw Tower.
He rapped at the oak door with a brass plate engraved "Professor Hermione Jean Granger''. The door opened as he felt the wards drop. To his surprise, there was no little witch sitting at the cluttered desk, hiding behind stacks of books as usual. Before he had the time to wonder where she was, he heard her voice call his name from her private chambers. As he opened the adjoining door, his heart ached at the beauty of what he saw. Hermione sat cross-legged in front of her fluffy sofa at the far end of the room on the plush rug, dressed in a pair of black leggings and an old, threadbare Quidditch jersey with the number seven, wrangling a pile of essays. Her wand kept her wild hair together, and her sweet little feet were clad with pink bunny slippers. She was utterly devourable.
"Viktor!" she exclaimed, a brilliant smile spreading over her lovely face. "I am so sorry, I got your message, but I didn't expect you so early. I am still not finished with these dratted essays. Oh Merlin, would you give me just two more minutes? I am almost done with this one. Just make yourself comfortable and prepare to be covered with kisses, will you? I am just in the middle of grading this one. Two minutes, one minute. I'll hurry up." She returned to her essay. Viktor chuckled as he put down his bag and removed his coat. Even though he didn't want to wait another minute or two to hold his girlfriend, it was comforting to him that even if they hadn't seen each other for months, most things about her didn't change. As he moved to the coat rack, Hermione warned without lifting her head: "Be careful not to step on Pebbles."
"What is Pebbliaua!" Viktor's question was interrupted by tiny claws digging into his calf. A tiny orange fur ball stuck to his leg, determined to climb its way up. Viktor plucked it, lifting it to get a better look. It was a plain-looking kitten with abundant orange fur and fierce green eyes. It squirmed in his hands, obviously not too keen on being held. Viktor put it down.
"That's Pebbles, she likes to climb. I think she wants you to follow her." The small feline was looking at him full of conviction, her tail pointing up like a flagpole. Letting out a shrill meow, she slipped through the still ajar door to Hermione's office. Viktor followed like an entranced man, barely registering Hermione's laughter. The cat, moving purposefully, retrieved what looked like a toy mouse from behind one of the bookshelves. It was mottled, encrusted with dried cat saliva, had a loose eye and almost ripped-out ear. She left the toy at Viktor's feet, gazing at him intently, almost commanding him to do something about it. Although Viktor was not a cat person, he knew that kittens like to play. Assuming that she wanted the toy to move, he drew his wand and cast an animation spell. The toy twitched, jerked and shot off, the cat arching her back and chasing after. Pleased with himself, Viktor returned to the private chambers only to have another little lady jump at him.
Just as she promised, Hermione was raining kisses all over his face, her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist. Viktor was light-headed with glee. He cradled her thighs with his hands, walked to the sofa, and collapsed on the creamy white cushions with Hermione on top. He took a long look at his girlfriend's face. Like a working man who only realizes how tired he is when he finally sits down to rest, he realized just how much he had missed her in the past three months when he finally held her in his arms. Hermione leaned forward, her perky nose touching his, and her tiny hands stroking his beard.
"I missed you, Viktor."
"I missed you too, sweetheart."
"I was so worried about you."
"I know, my dear, I am sorry."
"Harry fire-called an hour ago. You met him in Berlin, right? You can't imagine how envious I was that he has seen you more often lately than I have. I was elated when I got the message that you were coming. You seem fine but…" she cupped his cheek, "Viktor, why did you have to choose a job again that drives me out of my mind with worry? Are you fine?"
"I am fine. I…" shit . "I was so excited to have an excuse to meet you, that I forgot my check-up."
"Oh, we'll go to Madam Pomfrey, she is much better than your ITF medics, for sure."
"It is not…"
"I am sure she won't mind! Since the exams' week started, she has had to deal with more fake ailments than real ones. She might even give you a sugar quill if you behave." She smiled. That smile could disarm the strongest of men. It certainly spelled disaster for Viktor. "Of course, we will go. But you have to eat my sugar quill." She leaned in for a kiss and then stopped.
"Your beard is so long now, there is hardly any space on your face to kiss."
"Oh, I am sure there is plenty." he closed the small distance and locked his lips with hers. Then there were minutes of soft kisses, nibbles, tongues, teeth and moans before Viktor pulled back and ran his thumb over the features he knew so well. Her kisses were everything, but he had to look at her. It had been too long. She had been worried, that much was obvious, but now she was happy, relieved, content. He wanted her never to be any other way.
His moment of calm exploration was interrupted by two thumbs simultaneously grazing his nipples, making him jump.
"Oi, that tickles." She lightly rolled each nipple between her fingers. "Oi!" exclaimed Viktor, laughing and securing both her wrists with one hand.
"Come on, Viktor, I know you like it," she said, grinning mischievously. "You shove them into my mouth every time we have sex."
"Yes, I like it, when we have sex." Viktor raised her hands above her head. "When we are not having sex, it tickles." She kept grinning, the cheeky witch knew, of course. He lightly pinched a nipple over the jersey with his free hand, revelling in the discovery that she was not wearing a bra. He immediately released her, however, when he saw that her face contorted with discomfort.
"Sorry, was it too hard?"
"No, no, it wasn't, even if it was, you know I like it." She leaned to kiss his nose, still straddling him. "It is just that... It is the first day of my period, and they are a bit sensitive."
"Oh… are you in pain?"
"No, no, I have a potion for that. It is just that…" she buried her face in his neck. "Viktor, I am so, so sorry. We haven't seen each other in ages, and who knows when we will see each other again when the world is in this state and just when we have a bit of time for each other I am…"
Viktor had heard enough. He lightly pushed her back and took her chin between his fingers. She was sad. At that moment he hated long-distance relationships, not because they were arduous -every relationship has its moments-, but because she was sad for something like this.
"Hermione…"
"I know, I know, it is a silly thing to say really, but I can't help it. Maybe…" she slowly ground her hips to his groin, "I can still take care of you later."
Viktor grabbed her and stood up, gently dropping her on her feet. "Don't worry about that now, little lady. A certain headmaster has already thanked me to remind you that you are not excused from dinner. We should go to the Great Hall."
"Or what is he going to do? Fire me?" she said with her hands on her hips. "I am so cross with him, it takes me every smidgen of self-control I have not to hex him every time we meet. If he wants to fire me, he can be my guest. Good riddance!"
"What did he do this time?" Hermione and Snape adored each other. That didn't mean that they didn't fight like cats and dogs, though.
"Ah," she waved her hand dismissively. "Same old same old. But you are right, let's go grab a bite before dinner ends. I'll need to change, though." she pulled the jersey over her head and disappeared into the bedroom, regrettably taking her perfect small breasts with her. "Whatever happened to Pebbles?" he heard her say from behind the open wardrobe lid.
"The charm on her toy mouse had expired, so I recharmed it. She is probably still in the office, chasing it."
Hermione emerged after a moment, dressed in her teaching robes. "Recharmed? The toy wasn't charmed." She dipped her hand between the cushions on the sofa, retrieving what looked like a small plastic fishing rod, with a thread dangling loose where the mouse supposedly should have been hanging. "Playing with cats is an art form, you know, you can't just charm objects to move around randomly."
"I don't have much experience with cats." Viktor scratched his head.
"It's OK, I'll just leave the office door ajar so that she can come back in when she is bored. Let's go."
"First things first." Viktor reached for his backpack. Flowers were delivered, kisses were exchanged. Attaching one rose to her robes, Hermione placed the rest in a simple glass vase. The next thing that Viktor retrieved from his backpack was less romantic.
"You know the drill, sweetheart."
"Do we have to do this now?" said Hermione as she took the folder from Viktor.
"Either we do it now, or you can't ask any questions till we return."
"Bugger." Hermione gestured to Viktor to turn around, opened the folder and signed the ITF consultancy contract within on his back without reading. They left through the entrance of her private quarters, which automatically locked and warded.
"Where did you find the cat? Isn't she too small to be separated from her mother?"
"She is just about old enough to survive on her own, at least she can eat solid food." Hermione sighed. "I found her in one of the alcoves. The poor dear was so cold and hungry, with a gaping wound on her leg. It was heartbreaking. I cared for her without much sleep. Luckily, she is a fighter. That was about the time when you left with Scabior. She hasn't had the time to learn manners from her mother though, she is a walking meowing menace on tiny adorable legs. Not that I can stay angry at her... "
The Great Hall was one of the things that hadn't changed in Hogwarts since Viktor's first visit as a teenager. At the height of dinner time, it was packed with students whose conversations melded into a cloud of hums as they took their seats at the High Table. Viktor looked around as he pulled a seat for Hermione. They sat at the left end of the table. At the other end, Hermione's two teaching assistants were engaged in a lively discussion. The Headmaster and Malfoy Sr. were in the middle like the king and queen on a chess table, likewise engaged in a conversation, albeit a more subtle one. Four other professors were scattered at the table, Viktor recognized the Arithmancer and the Astronomer who had finished eating and had their noses buried in their books. He received glances and curt nods from most of the table, and was glad that they all quickly went back to minding their businesses. Hermione undoubtedly was teeming with questions, and he had no time to engage in idle polite conversation.
"Viktor, try this, it is my vegetarian shepherd's pie. I gave the recipe to the house Elves when students started asking for more vegetarian options." Though she couldn't help being bossy as ever, she at least waited for him to nod and smile before she started spooning the spicy lentils covered with cheesy mashed potatoes onto his plate. He helped himself to some steamed vegetables while he felt a soundproofing charm surround him. The Headmaster glanced in their direction for the briefest of seconds, quickly resuming his conversation with Malfoy.
"So, tell me everything."
"Everything?"
"Everything. Where have you been?"
Viktor gave the account of the past days, Hermione listened. When he finished, neither of them had touched their food, so they took a few minutes to eat in silence. Hermione looked like she was barely noticing what she ate, digesting the information that she had just been fed instead.
"I don't understand." Hermione broke the silence. "What kind of terrorists are these people? Terrorists have an agenda, they serve a cause, a purpose. Ten days since the attack and no one has owned up to it. Maybe it is the Identitarians."
"We have been watching them for a while now. They run camps, but so far they have not done anything other than peaceful protests and lobbying."
"Fucktards!" Hermione stabbed her plate with her fork. "They are still sending me letters about my Charms thesis and every damn paper I have ever published, though with the five brain cells that they have among them, they can't even read and understand the titles. Because how can I stoop so low as to try to explain their incredible, otherworldly, holy magical powers using muggle science? Aren't witches and wizards above physics? They are even distributing pamphlets, I confiscated one in Hogwarts. Hogwarts! How can this be legal?"
"The whole wizarding community has been opening up since the last war. More and more witches and wizards move about in the non-wizarding world, use their methods, read their books. They realize maybe for the first time that magic is not always the only solution or even the best solution to their problems. Parents have a hard time understanding their children. For non-wizards, this generation gap is nothing new, but magical people have always been more conservative. It is evolution, inevitable, but some people are and will always be sceptical to change. You can't just forbid people from expressing their opinion."
"I know, I know… I am just so anxious. Kingsley is rerunning for Minister of Magic, I don't know if you've heard about it." Viktor nodded. "Although I do think that he's been minister way too long, I dislike his rival even more. The obligatory Parzival Blankley," the leader of the Identitarian Movement in Britain had run for minister in the past elections, but hardly got over ten percent of the votes. It didn't stop him from trying, though, and Viktor was aware that the support for him was on the increase. Troubling times for wizarding Britain, indeed. "This time, however, there is a new candidate as well." Hermione dropped her cutlery, glaring daggers at the Headmaster and Malfoy.
"Is he…?"
"No, Draco. I learned it yesterday from Harry. Kingsley is under immense pressure to catch the culprits, otherwise, his chances of being reelected are going to be slim. Even before the attacks, the poll results didn't look so good for him." She sat back, crossing her arms. "Viktor, if it is not a terrorist group, what is it then? Is there a group of people who are turning wizards into squibs just for the heck of it?" Viktor shook his head. He had been pondering the same since the attack. This last piece of information was rather interesting though. He filed it somewhere at the back of his mind.
"Do you think Scabior is involved? Is that how he led you there?"
"Before he received the deal, he had been in Azkaban for six months. He testified under Veritaserum and took a wand oath not to harm me. So, I don't think so." Hermione looked relieved. After all her efforts to have the former Snatcher rehabilitated and reintegrated since the war, she had been immensely disappointed that he couldn't seem to keep out of trouble.
"Come on, let's have some ice cream. Afterwards, we go to Madam Pomfrey, and then you tell me to what I owe the pleasure of your visit. OK? Did I tell you that the Head Elf was the head of the jury? The students insisted that she be present too, after all, she is THE authority on household charms. She was so impressed with the ice cream machine, that yesterday she made an official request to build a larger one for the kitchens." Her eyes lit up as she spoke of her students, as was her wont. Since she moved to Hogwarts a few years ago, Hermione lived for her students. As she eagerly scooped strawberry and chocolate ice cream into her sundae cup, she beamed, and so did Viktor.
"You asked what my favourite is, it's vanilla."
"Is it? There you go." she handed him a cup and cancelled the soundproofing charm. As they tucked into their ice creams in comfortable silence, Snape and Malfoy stood up and left.
"You hardly see one without the other these days," Hermione's voice making this seemingly simple remark was bitter, "at least he keeps Severus out of my hair, so I can do pretty much whatever I want."
"Couldn't you always?" Viktor had always had the impression that Hermione had the Headmaster wrapped around her finger.
"No, not really. We usually had to compromise." She said the last word like it was some dark spell. "Are you finished?"
Viktor popped the last bit of his wafer roll into his mouth and stood up. Hogwarts dinner as usual had made him sluggish. They leisurely walked to the infirmary, mostly in silence, bar some idle chit-chat. Students were eyeing them and making whispered remarks, some more discreet than others but all failing to go unnoticed. A few of them even tried to tail him and Hermione for a few steps before they lost courage. Hermione ignored them, and so did he.
It turned out that Hermione was right, the Hogwarts matron was indeed pleased to have something else to treat than a fake stomach ache. More than happy, in fact. She stripped Viktor naked with a swish of her wand and stuck him into a heat chamber with a tiny towel around his waist. "There there, young man, we'll get you nice and warm to increase the blood flow and help your muscles relax. You just sit there nice and cosy for fifteen minutes, will you?" The question was, of course, rhetorical; by the time she finished speaking, the door of his toasty prison was already shut. Having studied in Durmstrang and played Quidditch in Russia, Viktor knew the benefits of a sauna and had one in his cottage garden. He did prefer the heat of a natural wood fire to the oddly penetrant magical heat, though, and he would usually not use one on a full stomach. In an attempt to keep at least a bit cool, he sat on the ground on his haunches instead of the bank and listened to Madam Pomfrey and Hermione chatter about the students and exam period while sweating buckets. He was released a while later, flushed and dripping, quickly dried, dressed and awarded with a bottle of mineral water, a few potion vials, and a coconut-flavoured sugar quill for his cooperation. Hermione didn't even bother to suppress a giggle as they made their way back to her quarters. Viktor scanned the periphery for students and, seeing that there were none, gave her round, yielding bum cheek a squeeze over her robes. This made her giggle louder, even as she swatted his hand. He couldn't wait to be in private so that he could give her a proper punishment.
Unfortunately, the jolly atmosphere did not last long. As they turned a corner, Hermione stopped dead in her tracks and her eyes grew dark. Some ten meters away, Snape and Malfoy were engaged in a conversation. They were not audible, and their body languages betrayed no context.
"Why are they still here? They left dinner ages ago."
"I didn't know that teachers had a curfew," remarked Viktor in an attempt to lighten the mood that lay leaden around them. It didn't work. It did dawn on him however that he had never taken a good look at the elder Malfoy before. Viktor also came from an old wizarding family, but his family had never shared social circles with Voldemort's supporters. An obscure light from the window illuminated Lucius Malfoy like a well-placed spotlight, and Viktor took a moment to scrutinize him. His hair was fair, almost like the Scandinavians with whom Viktor had gone to school, which was odd considering his French origins. His features were smooth, free of wrinkles, but unnaturally so, as if he never made any facial expressions, never laughed, never frowned. His pale eyes had an indeterminate colour. He stood straight and proud, his broad shoulders accentuated by his black velvet coat. He had smallish hands for his height, one clutched a cane with an eerie looking head, inlaid with an occasionally sparkling green stone. He was certainly not a man you could walk by without noticing.
"Viktor, are you ogling old Malfoy?"
"He is a beautiful man. He doesn't look old at all."
"He probably has a hideous self-portrait in his attic."
Yes! He knew this one. Ever since he first met Hermione, Viktor had been catching up on his non-wizarding literature. Whenever he caught one of her literary references, he felt like he had won a prize.
"So you think it is Dorian Grey's dark magic?"
"Nah, I doubt that he can pull that kind of magic off. Or anything more than firing hexes at children, for that matter," said Hermione, almost sneering. "What surely does help is to have a Potions Master as your best friend." Viktor had to picture the dour Headmaster standing behind his cauldron, brow misty, brewing skincare products for his best friend with a slight smile on his face. Fucking adorable.
"Come on," he put a hand around Hermione's shoulder, giving it a light nudge. "Let's go back to your rooms." Hermione nodded and picked up a pace so fast that Viktor didn't have to keep his strides short so that she could keep up with him. As they neared the two men, though, she slowed down, as if she didn't want to make the impression that she was running away. She squared her shoulders and put a hand in her pocket, where Viktor was sure she was holding her wand.
"Gentlemen." She greeted coolly. Viktor said nothing but gave two brief nods in greeting.
"Ah, Professor Granger, I was just telling the Headmaster that I'd be more than happy to take over your ten pm patrol, as you have company."
"Why, thank you, Professor Malfoy," she replied in the same cold tone as before. "Except, I have not asked for your insincere charity, nor do I have any use for it, so please, kindly go try to sell your façade to someone willing to buy it, thank you very much. Your help is not needed."
"Hermione, this is highly inappropriate…"
"Don't Hermione me, Headmaster." Her voice was still cool and calm, but Viktor could see that she was trembling. Angry Hermione keeping calm was scary. Viktor almost found himself wishing that she would snap and start yelling. She was, moreover, still clutching her wand. "You brought this criminal into Hogwarts, and although I had little choice but to accept his presence here, I have no obligation to be cordial to him."
"He is not a criminal…"
"Of course he is not, he has never been tried, has he?" Hermione did not seem to consider Malfoy a worthy conversation partner, she ignored him completely as he stood and watched, his feathers not even slightly ruffled. "His comrades are in Azkaban, suffering the consequences of their wrongdoings, but poor Lucius…," she was now visibly shaking. Viktor longed desperately to hold her, but he didn't want her to look weak. "He was so weak, so misguided, wandless, only caring for his wife and son, who could blame him? He had, after all, suffered as much in the hands of that madman as anyone else, hadn't he?"
"Hermione!"
"Don't. Don't say my name. Don't even look at me. How could you? How could you let this living, breathing, walking personification of everything I have been teaching my students to fight against be here? So that they learn that if you are rich, if you are influential, if you are pure , you can get away with murder? That consequences are only for the poor and the weak? For the underdogs?"
"Hermione!" He bellowed out, his deep voice echoing in the corridor. Malfoy cast a silencing charm, which Hermione cancelled with a wave of her wand. "I have nothing to hide from anyone, least of all my students. Do you know why? Because I am right."
"This is neither the time nor place for this discussion. I have told you the reasons why Lucius was hired for this post, and they are not, as you so put it, cronyistic. The appointment was approved by the Board of Governors…"
"Your reasons… what were they again? Ah yes, he did not require remuneration. How charitable. How selfless. What is next? Shall we ask Dolohov to teach DADA? I am sure he would do it for free, too, if it gets him out of Azkaban."
"You know it is not the same!" Snape's patience seemed to run out, his hands were curled into tight fists. He of course would not do anything. Still, Viktor could not help his hand wandering to his wand.
"Professor Granger, I am more than aware that you resent me for what happened to you in my manor, and I deeply reg…"
"It is not about me!" Hermione screamed, this time shaking for real. Curious students that had gathered at either end of the corridor were shooed away by two professors that Viktor could not make out, and he was sure that silencing charms had been cast around them. "For the love of everything under the sun, you don't get it, do you? I knew that you were a rubbish Death Eater and failed pretty much at everything you attempted, but I never took you for actually dense. It is not me. It is you. It is everything you stand for. You, Mr Malfoy, are a relic of bygone times that should be displayed in a museum as a testimony to everything that used to be wrong with the wizarding world. If we take away your money, and your manor, and your title, what are you? Nothing!" Hermione poured out her resentment for Malfoy desperately, like a man drinking a vial of dragon bile and expecting his opponent to die because of it. She trembled, flushed, her eyes were red and glassy. Malfoy, on the other hand, remained perfectly poised, nonchalant, not a single strand of hair out of place.
"Since I have started in Hogwarts, Professor Granger, I have been meting out apology after apology. To no avail, it seems. Tell me, what do you expect me to do? I cannot undo anything that has been done."
"What should I do, he asks. Very simple. Go to the Aurors, surrender yourself. Confess your crimes, and I will fight with tooth and nail for you to get a fair trial, as I did with all of your kind. Pay your debt to society. Then come back to Hogwarts, and teach. I will be the first to welcome you at the gates."
"My debt to society is paid, Professor…"
"Yeah? Unlike what the name suggests, Mr Malfoy, debt to society can not be paid in cash. You can't just…"
"Hermione, this ends here, now." Snape put his hand on Hermione's shoulder, Viktor twitched, but a split second later, said hand was slapped away by Hermione. Viktor gritted his teeth, desperately wishing that this argument would end without him having to interfere.
"I have hired Lucius, and I am under no obligation to have your approval for my decision in this matter. You are implicating a man, a professor of Hogwarts, to be a criminal when you have no proof…"
"No proof. No proof? Is that so, Severus? You think I am implicating an innocent man of crimes he did not commit?" If she had sounded irate before, now she was genuinely hurt.
"What I am saying is…"
She raised her hand. "I have heard enough."
"For gods' sake, woman, let me finish…" She shook her head and walked away. Viktor longed to run after her, take her in his arms and comfort her, but he knew that she would need some space to cool down. Snape also left promptly, albeit in the opposite direction to Hermione, practically smouldering with rage. So he stood there in the dimly lit, deserted corridor with the object of his beloved's ire. It was very awkward, but Viktor had been in the company of stuck-up purebloods too often to be unsettled by his presence.
"How are your esteemed parents, Mr Krumov?" Malfoy broke the silence moments later.
"They pray for your good health, Mr Malfoy," he replied formally.
"Severus told me that you are investigating the recent attack. Terrible event really, quite unsettling. Is it true that the victims have been rendered squibs permanently?"
"It has been only ten days since the attack, Mr Malfoy, it is too early to speak of permanency."
"Of course, of course. We must keep hoping. Draco's potions company has been working on a cure. I have heard that they have made quite good progress already." Leave it to a Malfoy to turn a crisis into opportunity, thought Viktor, but said nothing.
"I am ever so sorry that you had to witness this… scene," Malfoy broke the silence again, gazing into the direction that Hermione had disappeared into. "Professor Granger and I have not been on the best of terms during my tenure in Hogwarts." Understatement of the year, Viktor thought.
"Speaking of which, I should go see her. Mr Malfoy."
"Mr Krumov."
Standing in front of Hermione's private quarters, Viktor prepared himself to see her cry. Although she had been prone to turning on the waterworks in her teenage years, she hardly ever cried any more since the war ended. He felt almost heartbroken. On many occasions, when he held her close, he had wanted to promise that he would never let anything happen to her, but he could not bring himself to make a promise that he knew he could not keep. Life was not like that, you could not just stick your loved ones under an impermeable charm and keep them safe from the world outside. He sighed, knocked briefly and walked in.
Hermione was not crying, in fact, she looked rather calm. She was standing in front of an open window, curls swaying softly in the wind. It was still light outside, the sky was clear, the wind cool and crisp. Viktor closed the door behind him and walked to the window, letting the evening breeze blow through his hair, still not touching her. Although he longed to comfort her, he let her take her time and make the first move if she wished to be held.
"Viktor?"
"Hermione?"
She shook her head as if she had changed her mind about what she wanted to say. Instead, she bent to close the window, it was getting quite cool. "As lovely as it is to have you here, you didn't come here only to see me, right? You said you have a puzzle for me? I have been dying to find out what it is and can wait no longer. Come on, where is it?"
Viktor smiled. "It is in your hand."
"My hand?"
"Yes," he said, laying her small, puffy hand into his with the palm facing upwards. "Here is your puzzle." Hermione did look puzzled. Good. He drew a line in the middle of her palm with his finger. "This is the river Danube. On this side," he touched one side of her palm, "there is a little lamb. And on this side..." he touched the other side. "...is her mother. The Danube is too wide to jump over, too fast to swim, and too deep to walk. How can the little lamb reach her mother?"
Hermione looked at him quizzically and seeing that he was serious, she stared at her hand for a moment as he drew his finger up and down the imaginary river. She pondered for a moment, her expressive eyebrows knitted, lips pursed. "I don't know… she didn't swim?"
"No, too fast."
"Did she build a bridge?"
"The lamb?"
"Yeah, no, sorry… I have no idea." She surrendered after a few minutes. "What's the answer?"
"I don't know," said Viktor, her hand still in his. "I just like holding your hand."
"Viktor!" she pulled him down to slide her arms up around his neck, laughing. Viktor laughed too, his arms full of his soft little girlfriend. "My hands are yours to hold whenever you want, you don't need cheesy pick-up lines for that."
"Hmm…" Viktor hummed but said nothing more. They held each other for a few blissful moments until she was completely relaxed and the knot in Viktor's chest dissolved. He took her hand, directing her to the sofa. "Now, a real puzzle." He grabbed his backpack from where it lay on the ground, retrieved the evidence box, and expanded it to full size.
"Oh, evidence, how exciting!" She grabbed the box, and Viktor grabbed her wrist. "Don't open it."
"I wasn't going to, silly." She almost rolled her eyes. "I do know that magical objects can be dangerous. What's in it, then?"
"I don't know."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, an expression that Viktor could not master, despite trying desperately in his younger years. "Is this another pick-up manoeuvre, Viktor?"
"I wish…" Viktor went ahead to give an account of the meeting in Berlin. Hermione listened with eyes wide open, cheeks flushed with excitement. "So it is a charm that prevents one from wanting to know what that object is, describe it, or take a photo. I have…" she hesitated for a moment, eyes wandering around the room. "This…is...fascinating." She leaned back, cuddling the box on her lap. She looked at it intently, lips murmuring something Viktor couldn't understand. She placed both her hands on the box, playing a meterless rhythm, and kept murmuring. Viktor's heart soared. He knew he had come to the right person.
"OK."
"OK?"
"OK. We will start by examining the situation, then we will make a list of possible actions and brainstorm." She put the box on the round glass coffee table, taking a block and pencil instead. She drew the box, with a big question mark in it. Viktor laughed and kissed the top of her head, because how could he not? "Wait, I can't do this without tea. She ran to her little kitchen. "Do you want anything?" Viktor shook his head, smiling. After some minutes, she was back with a steaming mug and settled back into her place, hardly able to contain herself. "Now, where were we? We have a box, and if we open it we will be under the charm." She put down "Can not open" as the first list item. "The exact wording that the ladies used was "I don't want to know", right?"
"When we asked them what was inside? Yes."
"I think, then, that it is no ordinary object. They said they didn't want to know, which implies that they don't know what it is. If it was something familiar, like a rubber duck, for example, they would have said something like "I can't tell you." So whatever it is, it is probably not easily identifiable just by looking."
"I guess you could be right, yes."
"But they were unharmed, not cursed or anything, so the object in itself is not dangerous." Viktor nodded, and she scribbled "Unfamiliar, not dangerous." She almost chewed the end of the pencil, a habit she was trying to quit, but stopped herself in time. "The box is not very big, do you know if they shrank the evidence?"
"Standard procedure is to secure the items in a box, and then shrink the box together with the contents. This is the original size of the box. It is the smallest that we have, twenty cm3."
Hermione noted down another list item, "small". "How much does the box weigh?"
"I am not sure, to be honest. Maybe one hundred grams?" Hermione ran to the kitchen, returning with her kitchen scale. "One hundred and thirty-five grams," She wrote down. "So it is quite small and light. She tried to shake the box and listen, but no sound came.
"They are padded."
"Ah." she put the box down and leaned back once more. "This is what we have till now. It is not much, is it? Still, it is a start." Viktor leaned in to kiss her cheek.
"Hey, we are working!" She gave him a peck on the cheek even as she admonished him. "Now, we need a list of potential courses of action." She drew a line under the first list. "Can we open this box remotely?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like if it were in another room, with the door closed? If we could do that, we could install a camcorder in a separate room, open the box with the door closed, and watch the recording later."
"Ah, no, I am afraid not. The boxes record the fingerprints of the persons that open them and the date, time, and identity of the opener are immediately recorded. If it is an unauthorized person, they will not open. You can't open them remotely."
"Damn. What if you open it with your eyes closed? Would the charm still work?"
"I don't know, I would rather not risk it."
"We can find a Guinea pig to try."
"Guinea pig?"
"Like, a test person, who is not working on the case. Even if they are charmed, it won't be so bad."
"We could try," said Viktor, while Hermione entered the first item to the new list. "What else… ah, we could get a CT scan!" She seemed particularly pleased with this solution. Viktor waited for her to elaborate.
"Computed tomography. It is a device that records the images of thin sections of objects and later reconstructs them into a three-dimensional image. It is normally used for medical diagnostics, but museums also use them to investigate old objects non-invasively. The good thing is, you don't only see the surface, but also what is below the surface." She was writing frantically. "The problem would normally be finding a device…" she grinned.
"But?"
"But, since a few weeks, my parents are back in the UK, and they are very well acquainted with at least one radiologist." She was bubbling with excitement. "I think this is our best shot. In the meanwhile, I wish I could say that I will do some research on the charm…" She sighed and dropped her head on Viktor's shoulder, "but I have to get through this exam period first. Afterwards, I am all yours." Viktor put an arm around her shoulders. In the past decade, magical law enforcement had made great efforts to introduce non-wizarding technology into their portfolio, with great success too, but there were still many techniques that were not accessible to them yet. A witch like Hermione, brilliant, well-educated and with a foot in either world, was invaluable to the new wizarding world.
His train of thought was interrupted when Hermione stirred. "I will write a note to my parents. You know, phones still do not work in Hogwarts, it is such a pain. Now I can owl them and visit them, but when they were in Sierra Leone, I could only talk to them every three weeks or so." Now that the Grangers were rich, successful, had secured a good pension for themselves, and a good inheritance for their daughter, they often volunteered for Doctors Without Borders, another non-wizarding invention that Viktor admired. Witches and wizards tended to live in their little bubbles, the fledgeling Pact of the Wizarding Peoples being the only international wizarding alliance ever. "When should I say that you will visit them, Viktor?"
"First thing tomorrow morning."
"You are leaving so soon?" Viktor nodded. "You have work to do, and so do I. But once I catch the bad guys," he put his hands under her armpits, causing her to drop her block and pencil, lifted her off of the ground and swirled her around with his arms fully extended, ignoring her shrieks, "we will have all summer." He put her gently on the floor, whereupon she went on her tiptoes and kissed his chin over his beard. "Mmm," she said, nuzzling him, "Pine? It smells so fresh."
"It is birch and patchouli."
"It suits you." She sat down to finish her note, folded it, and slid it into a small envelope. "Evey?"
A house Elf in a paisley dress appeared with a pop. "Miss Hermione wishes?"
"Evey, would you please take this envelope to Nyepi in the owlery, to be delivered to my parents?"
"Gladly, Miss Hermione!" she disappeared.
"Well, this was a rather pleasant distraction." Hermione cooed. "I wonder what we can do with our free time now…" as her small hand sneaked between the folds of Viktor's shirt, they were both startled with a knock on the door. Hermione nervously glanced at the clock over the door, which, rather than showing the time, displayed who was standing in front of the door. Lucky for both of them, it was not the surly Headmaster with unfinished business, but instead, Hermione's Charms teaching assistant. Hermione waved her wand to open the door. "Come in, Amandine."
"Hello, Hermione, hello Viktor, nice to see you again." Amandine de Sainte-Colombe was a Swiss Beauxbatons graduate who was about to finish the last year of her Charms mastery under Hermione's supervision. She was taller and a lot curvier than Hermione, her hair, eyebrows, even eyes and sometimes skin were charmed a different colour every time Viktor saw her. This time, she had brown eyes and short, pastel-pink hair which clashed with her green cloak but looked oddly pleasant at the same time.
"Nice to see you, too, won't you come in?"
"No no, I came to say that I will do your ten pm rounds, Hermione, it starts in ten minutes."
"Amandine, you are such a lifesaver, I totally forgot about it!" Hermione said, covering her face with her hands.
"Ah, it's nothing," Amandine replied, waving her hand dismissively. "Good night, you both."
"I wouldn't know what to do without them," said Hermione, closing the door. Hermione taught both Charms and Muggle Studies, and relied heavily on her two assistants.
"A good team is essential to success, sweetheart. You chose well."
"I was lucky." They held each other again. "Now, where were we?"
"Before I do anything else, I need a shower. I am still sticky from the magic sauna." He pulled Hermione's blouse over her head and unclasped her bra.
"And why, pray tell, are you undressing me Mr Krumov, when it is you who needs a shower?" She swiftly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it down his arms.
"Because, Miss Granger," he bent down, buried his nose in the crook of her neck, and sniffled mockingly, "you stink."
His insolence was awarded with a sharp smack on his behind, and giggles. Tossing her over a shoulder, once again ignoring her shrieks and peals of laughter, he carried her to the bathroom where they finished undressing, washed, kissed and held each other under the running water. Afterwards, Viktor wrapped Hermione in one of her enormous fluffy towels and carried her to bed, where they sat cross-legged. He tried to brush out her mane, and Hermione did the same with him, voicing her envy for his much more manageable hair. "Would you like me to wear my Snoopy nightie?" Viktor smiled and wondered why he could never remember that name. He watched her dress in her yellow cotton underwear and the knee-length nightdress he loved so much. She dried her still dripping hair with a drying charm, curling it back up and undoing Viktor's handiwork. Viktor did not find it in him to waste their few precious moments together with lamenting that he had to leave her tomorrow already. This was after all stolen time, and he relished it.
"Are you ready for bed, Viktor?" She waved her wand to dry his hair too, tickling him slightly.
"Yes, I am. You won't work any more today, will you?"
"Actually I should but…" she crawled under the duvet, Viktor followed. They snuggled in the middle, but even before she turned the lights off, Hermione sat back up.
"Have you seen Pebbles?"
This question displeased Viktor greatly, as it meant that his girlfriend was no longer in his arms. When Hermione grabbed her wand and walked to her office, he no longer had a good reason to stay in bed and followed suit.
"Oh, Pebbles, you… demon cat!" The small feline was sitting on Hermione's chair, looking quite pleased with herself. The office looked like a tornado had passed through it, papers and pens scattered, a vase and two picture frames broken on the ground, an inkwell knocked over, leaving a large, dark blotch on the carpet. The toy mouse was still whizzing around frantically. Viktor raised a hand to cancel the charm, desperately hoping that they wouldn't be up cleaning this mess for an hour. Hermione looked rather calm, though. After shooing the cat into her private quarters, she smugly raised her wand. "I learned this from the house Elves. Watch." She slashed the air with her wand horizontally five times from right to left and started drawing Linear A runes in the air in rapid succession. Viktor caught the word "evening" but before he could make sense out of what he saw, the spell was complete. The inkwell flew back, the blotch that was exuded from the carpet flew back in before the cap closed. The vase flew back to its place on the small coffee table in one piece. Papers rearranged themselves. In a few seconds, the office looked pretty much the same as it did when Viktor first saw it that evening. He had never seen anything like that before.
"What witchcraft is this?"
"I charmed my office so that it kind of… records, I suppose? Every fifteen minutes, it registers the positions and states of the objects inside. I just reset it to five pm. Anything that wasn't there at that time collects in the corner." She kneeled and picked up the toy mouse. Viktor had no words, he just gaped.
"It is a neat trick, isn't it?"
Viktor was flabbergasted. "You learned it from the house Elves?"
"Yeah, they are awesome."
"Do house Elves use runic magic?"
"No, not exactly, I mean, they don't need it, their methods are so different to ours. The spell that they use is different, but the result is similar. I needed to tweak around for a while to achieve this. I can even use it to restore letters and documents to a previous version if I mess something up during work. It does need a lot of preparation, though." She showed him all the runes carved around the ceiling, glowing faintly. "You can't just walk into any old room and perform it."
"Too bad," mused Viktor, "I can imagine a few cases where it could be quite useful for investigating crime scenes."
"That's not possible, I am afraid. But I do have a new defensive spell that could be very useful! It renders the opponent…" Viktor shushed her with a thumb pressed on her lips. "You know I can't use just any spell on people." Hermione looked mildly annoyed.
"I know, I know, any spell used by ITF officers on duty has to be previously registered and approved by an international committee bla bla bla. So boring."
"Would you rather I gut people in self-defence?"
"No! I mean, I understand why it makes sense, I guess, I just don't understand what harm can come from learning."
"Learning is dangerous, because your spells are irresistible, just like the witch that invents them." He scooped her up into his arms and walked back to her private quarters, closing the office door with his foot. "Besides, I have to be up early tomorrow. Whatever that incredible new spell is, I am sure it can wait till next time, when I am not standing naked in the middle of your office at night." A few moments later they snuggled up again and Viktor revelled in the delicious heat that seeped from Hermione's skin.
"Viktor?"
"Hmm?"
"You being naked in my office."
"Yeah?"
"We should repeat that sometime."
Viktor laid his cheek on top of her head. "Whenever you wish, my love. Say the word, and I'll be naked immediately." He felt her smile and kiss his collarbone.
"Good night, Viktor."
"Sleep well."