Litost: A state of torment created by the sudden sight of one's own misery
Grigori Vassilievich Krumov was not a very busy man. As much as his wife Klara Olsufievna liked to travel, join political campaigns and show off at society events, he preferred to be home, read, tend to his gardens, and occasionally visit or entertain close friends. Though, for a man who never really went anywhere, he was remarkably conversant with high-society gossip.
"Viktor! Dear boy, my sweet little son, welcome, welcome!" Viktor let himself be embraced and kissed affectionately on both cheeks. Being kissed by a bearded man, no matter how much you loved them, was a little ticklish. He wondered why Hermione never complained. Together they walked up the path that led to the manor, the gravel crunching loudly under Viktor's cycling shoes. He offered one arm to his father while he dragged his bike with the other.
"Is your lady wife home?"
"She is not, regrettably. She had a prior engagement which she could not cancel, but will visit you tomorrow. You know your mother." Viktor nodded. He sometimes wondered how much his parents still liked each other. They certainly did not seem to have anything in common any more, now that all the children were away from home, and hardly spent any time together.
"Lunch is ready, I made everything you love. But you must change." He slapped Viktor between the shoulder blades. Grigori was mildly curious and rather open about the non-wizarding world, but drew a line at men wearing shorts. Viktor had shared a similar aversion in the beginning, which he slowly overcame. Still, when he wasn't doing sports, he was also not very keen on displaying his legs (and Perun forbid, his hairy toes). He changed into some of the old clothes that were still in his childhood bedroom before he rejoined his father on the veranda. He inhaled the heady scent of the shkembe chorba, his mouth already watering as he spooned mashed garlic in vinegar into his bowl and reached for a slice of brown bread. He topped his soup with a generous portion of chilli flakes and dug in, almost moaning at the taste. His father made the best shkembe chorba.
"I see you missed my cooking," said Grigori smugly. Viktor smiled and shook his head, not seeing the harm in boasting his ego a little. After a few more hasty spoonfuls, he managed to pace himself a little. Gulping a few sips of water (garlic made thirsty), he leaned back onto his chair.
"May I ask a somewhat odd question?"
"Of course, you may ask anything, I am your father."
"What do you know about Lucius Malfoy?"
Grigori dropped his spoon and also leaned back, wiping his mouth on his napkin. "Well, for starters, he would certainly not eat shkembe chorba, unless you somehow manage to convince him that it is French." Fair enough, thought Viktor. His fault for not properly formulating his questions. He continued to eat, hoping that his father would elaborate without further persuasion. He didn't. For a while they ate in silence, until Viktor's bowl was almost empty.
"More?" asked Grigori, ladle already in the hand. Viktor accepted the second helping without resistance.
"Why are you asking me about Lucius Malfoy out of nowhere?"
"He began teaching in Hogwarts last semester. He and Hermione… they don't get along very well."
"Is that so? Have you met him?"
"I saw him in Hogwarts last Monday when I went to visit Hermione. They had a somewhat passionate argument. I only talked to him briefly."
"How does he look?" Viktor looked at his dear father with a balding head, long, grey, curly beard, and perfectly rounded belly, bless him. OK, his father was a good fifteen years older than Malfoy, so it wasn't fair to compare.
"He looked fine. He doesn't seem to be affected by Hermione's resentment towards him."
"I suppose he is used to people being angry at him by now. I've heard that even his own son hardly talks to him any more."
This is getting interesting, thought Viktor. He still knew about Draco's business, though. Maybe his wife was the go-between? He finished his soup and wiped the bowl clean with a slice of delicious bread.
"Narcissa Malfoy lives in France most of the year. She has a small circle of close friends, but does not attend high-society events."
"Because she doesn't like them, or because she is not invited?"
"That you will have to ask your mother. Probably both. She and her husband fell out of grace after the war, were not welcome or did not feel welcome, and after a while she probably convinced herself that she didn't like such events. In any case, Lucius Malfoy has been busy since the war."
"Busy with what?"
Grigori drew his heavy oak wand and summoned the book that lay on a chaise lounge on the lawn a few metres away. It was a handsomely bound volume in mahogany leather, maybe 500-600 pages long. "Изготовление волшебных палочек в Средневековой и прединдустриальной Европе", by Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. "He has been writing books?"
"Indeed. He has published over a dozen. He wasn't this prolific before the second wizarding war, which is no surprise I assume, but after the war he dedicated himself to academic work. This is his latest one, came out two weeks ago. I haven't finished it yet, but it will become a classic, I tell you. Textbook quality."
Viktor opened a random page. The book was printed on high quality textured paper in rich, black ink. His father had indulged in a hand-bound premium first edition, likely assuming that it would become a very valuable collectors' piece in a few decades. He turned a few more pages and stopped to admire the detailed illustration of a bisected 12th century wand, signed L.A.M.
"Do you think he writes these books himself?"
"Who else? You mean, if he employs a ghostwriter? I don't think so." He spooned some macerated wild strawberries and blueberries into a glass dish and topped them with a cloud of Chantilly cream before handing the dish to Viktor. "I have several more volumes of his works in the library, you can have a look later. He sometimes has co-authors, but I don't think he is paying someone else to write for him. He has been in and out of Durmstrang frequently in the past years, and I know the two history chairs there very well. They would know if Malfoy was an academic fraud."
"He has been to Durmstrang?"
"Yes, to conduct research, and a few times as a guest lecturer. He has also been invited to sign some of his books. Why are you so surprised? You have been in and out of Durmstrang over the years, too."
"Why does he even bother? Being a teacher is a difficult job. Even Hermione sometimes has enough, and she loves teaching. He is cooped up in Hogwarts, grading homework, when he could be enjoying life in any way he likes."
"I don't know, why does my son who has enough money to buy his lady love a small island still work in a dangerous, laborious job?" Touché. Probably even Lucius Malfoy needs some form of fulfilment in life, thought Viktor. Maybe he was indeed trying to do some form of good?
"And most importantly, why doesn't he buy his lady love a small island? Or something shiny?"
"Not now, father." Viktor finished his berries. "Can you show me the Malfoy books?"
"Fine, fine, let's look at the Malfoy books. You sure are interested in him. Is it really because of one argument?"
Viktor raised from his chair. "I am not sure."
The Krumov Manor library was Grigori's pride and joy. He had a small collection of rather exclusive tomes, which were probably as expensive as the manor itself, but also contemporary works, non-wizarding literature and a few books which were not exactly legal. He was especially fond of architecture, and had a whole section dedicated to large, heavy books full of drawings and photographs. Hermione also often went there when she visited during summer holidays, either borrowing books to read at the cottage or spending an afternoon or two researching and keeping Grigori company. Sometimes when Viktor visited, his father would show him an ancient codex that he managed to acquire, which had a two millimetre larger margin than a later edition he had, making it three times as expensive, or consult him on a book with a particularly strong curse on it that needed to be broken. This time, they went straight to the history section, where books were ordered alphabetically according to their titles. Grigori drew his wand and chanted a spell that reordered them according to author surnames.
"Here, these are the books written by Lucius Malfoy. I'll leave you to do your research, don't forget to reorder them when you're done." With a pat on the shoulder, Viktor was left alone. He ran his finger along the spines of the books, reading the titles: "Зелья в Средиземноморье бронзового века: от минойской до микенской цивилизации", "Древнеегипетские заклятия для контроля разума и памяти: от периода Нового царства до Эллинистический Египета", "Развитие гендерного равенства в Магическом мире начала 20 века". All titles that Viktor would be interested to read (OK, maybe not potion making, he had never had a knack for that topic). Viktor was no academic, still, he was a little disappointed with himself that he didn't know about Lucius Malfoy's scholarly endeavours. If he was really this successful, perhaps the decision to employ him was not as cronystic as Hermione believed it to be. "Прошлое, настоящее и будущие магии без использования волшебной палочки". The authors were listed as Hakan Inan, Lucius A. Malfoy and Kalevi Salonen. Now, this was interesting. Viktor removed the volume from the shelf. Like the book he had looked at earlier, this one was a luxurious, hand-bound, first edition copy. The first page had the crest of the Durmstrang Institute Press with the date 2004. Viktor sank into a leather armchair and looked at the table of contents. Execration texts, Voces mysticae, curse tablets, ancient amulets… page 588. Viktor turned the pages and started to read the section on amulets. He smiled as he read that many of these objects were made to "protect from witchcraft". Protective, luck-bringing… as he turned the page, he saw an entire section that was dedicated to objects like his mystery evidence.
Tumar or Tomar, from the root "tum" or "tom" meaning "bend" or "fold" in Mongolian, Tungus and early Turkish. There was not a lot on how they were made other than "...focused intent, accompanied by chanting. Seeds found on archaeological sites indicate that sage might have been used to increase focus and attention." It didn't seem like there was more to it than writing words on a piece of paper and folding it. He turned another page and froze. There was a detailed illustration of a triangular Tomar, folded and unfolded. The folding did seem to be rather intricate. Viktor summoned a pen and paper, and copied the pattern. The writing on it was tiny and illegible. His eyes strayed to the caption. "Plea of a witch mother for her child to be protected from harm. The symbol in the lower left corner might have been drawn on the child's body to make the charm personal." Viktor squinted at the figure and saw a small drawing, maybe a tree? He copied this as well. At the same time, he felt a little cheated. Headmaster Inan had not told him any of this. It seemed true that not a lot was known about how these objects were made, but it was not nothing. He could at least have been directed to the book, which the Headmaster himself had written. And… Malfoy. Even if he had not written this part himself, he must at least have read it. Along with anyone else who has this book, Viktor chastised himself. He could not allow Hermione's negative opinion on Lucius Malfoy get to him. He quickly scanned the rest of the section before returning the book to the shelf. As he placed the book into its former slot, he noticed that an English version of the book was also present on the shelf, along with many others.
"Are you still reading, Viktor?" He started, not having heard his father walk in.
"No, I am finished. Why do you have the same books in Russian and in English?"
"Why indeed? It is not like I have a lovely daughter-in-law who loves to read but can't speak a word of Russian, and I would like to please her when she comes to visit. Come on, let's have some coffee." Viktor smiled, at his father's attentiveness to Hermione and his own stupidity for asking such an idiotic question.
That night, as Viktor lay in bed, listening to the rain that fell onto his lawn in dull thuds, his mind wandered from old magic to new magic, from terrorists to scholars, from family to… love. His love. In one week, she would be in his arms. He knew from experience that that last week passed rather slowly, no matter how busy he kept himself. He buried his nose into his pillow, imagining it were the crook of Hermione's neck, and let sleep take him over.
His father had told Viktor that his mother Klara would visit him the next day, but hadn't stated a time. He spent the morning with light cardio exercises and weightlifting, followed by finishing touches on the shaft of his racing broom. When he felt his mother pass through the wards, he was bundling hazel twigs for the broom brush while listening to a 1974 recording of Grieg's Lyric Pieces by Emil Gilels on his porch in the early afternoon sun. Klara gave her son a kiss on the temple before sinking unceremoniously in the opposite chair.
"So, my son, you have been busy?"
"Just as you have." He smirked at his mother. Maybe Viktor was a little biased, but his mother was a very attractive woman. Whatever she got up to in her free time was not his business of course, and he was sure he would not like all the answers he would get, so he didn't ask.
"Well, you know me. Somebody has to be out there, ensuring that our family stays in the spotlight and influential, and since my lord husband and dear children have no interest in doing that, it has to be me."
"Hey, that's unfair! I am so famous that I struggle to keep myself and my family out of the spotlight."
"You are doing too good a job. Becoming a stakeholder in every major newspaper in Europe is clever, but you are hardly in the news any more."
"I do give a few interviews and have a few photos taken every year. It is good for the charities. But I won't have paparazzi at my neck, and I can't have my MLE career become gossip fodder. I won't have them bothering Hermione, either. Still, I am famous enough. Go nag at your other children."
"Which one? My older son, the family man who spends all his time with his four kids? Or my little daughter, rising star of wand-making, the most ambitious witch in the world who doesn't take shit from anyone? Do you think she is suited to politics?
Viktor secured the bundle with a string and rose from his seat. "She is not. Would you like a drink?"
"Would I? What do you have?"
Before Viktor could answer, he felt the wards shift. It was… wait, what?
"Hello Viktor, hello Klara, sorry to show up unannounced."
Hermione stood there on the lawn, Nyepi's cage in one hand, a cat carrier box in the other, and a suitcase floating behind her. She looked at Viktor and Klara, wide-eyed and trembling like a cornered mouse. Viktor froze, his mouth open. Luckily, his mother was a lot more level-headed than he was. With a few consecutive spells, she let the uneasy animals out of their cages and lowered the suitcase to the ground. Draping an arm around Hermione's shoulders, she guided her to a chair.
"Viktor, whiskey. Now!"
On her command, Viktor snapped out of his trance and ran to grab a bottle of single malt (well, the only bottle he had), a bottle of water and four tumblers. He poured his mother and Hermione a few fingers of whisky and two glasses of water. Klara snatched the whisky glass from his hand and slid it between Hermione's fingers. "Drink, sweet girl."
"I… I…"
"Ssh, first drink. Calm down, then we talk."
Hermione nodded and downed the whole glass in a few swigs. Viktor would normally have paced her, but this didn't seem like the time. Klara removed the glass from her clutch and handed it to Viktor to be refilled. This time, Hermione took only one sip and closed her eyes, teeth digging into her plump lower lip. Klara gave her a few more minutes to compose herself, removed the glass from her hands and placed it on the table. Viktor watched silently as his mother pulled his girlfriend towards herself, pressed her head on her chest, gently rocking back and forth while murmuring soothing Bulgarian words into her hair. Inwardly, he begged Hermione to say something, anything. She did try to start a sentence a few times, but her attempts were smothered by sobs. It was only a some minutes later that she extracted herself from Klara's arms, dropping a kiss to her cheek with a weak smile.
"I need to use the bathroom, be back in a minute." With that, she hastily disappeared into the cottage. Klara gave Viktor a "What on earth is this about?" look. Viktor put his hands up in the air. He had a vague idea, but no desire to speculate further. When Hermione re-emerged a few minutes later, colour had returned to her cheeks and she was no longer shaking.
"I am sorry I worried you both."
"No, no, baby, don't apologize." Klara stroked Hermione's cheek with her fingers.
"We haven't seen each other in a while, how have you been?" asked Hermione, obviously not wanting to talk about whatever was troubling her yet. She engaged Klara in some small talk, which Viktor barely listened to. After ten-fifteen minutes, Klara stood up.
"Well, this has been a nice surprise, but as much as I'd love to stay longer, I am also required to see my husband, at least from time to time."
"You don't have to leave, I mean, I really didn't want to disturb…"
"Don't be silly, how can you disturb? This is your home. Still, I must take my leave. Take care of each other, little love bugs." With that, she Disapparated, and Viktor was left with Hermione, whose eyes were fixed on a dandelion on the lawn.
"I quit my job."
Viktor's eyebrows rose of their own accord. "Love?"
"I… I couldn't handle it any more, Viktor. He was there, all the time, talking to students, talking to professors, walking… no, not walking, fucking floating around like he owns the place."
"You quit because of Malfoy?" This was surreal. Hermione lived to teach. Surely she would not quit her beloved job because of Lucius Malfoy?
"Yes… no… oh man, it is complicated," She lifted her head to meet his eyes. "We were at the end-of-term staff meeting, and… it was about something silly, I think, about an ongoing bet among the Gryffindors about the best N.E.W.T. scores of the year or something. At one point Malfoy said "typical Gryffindor", and I reminded him, as calmly as I could, mind you, that we don't use that kind of segregating language any more. Then he said something like, "Of course, since you changed the sorting system, the Houses have no identity any more.". I reminded him that changing the sorting system was a mutual decision taken by the whole staff because the House of Slytherin, his house, was dying. Children, small children, were being treated like Death Eaters just because they got sorted into Slytherin by some tatty old hat. The year before the sorting system was changed, there were just two new pupils in the Slytherin house. Two! The rest were removed from the school by their parents, who feared that their children would be ostracized and bullied. No child will be bullied if I have anything to say about it." She slammed her hand on the table with such a force that a tumbler fell sideways. She picked it up and resumed her rant. "We argued some more, and he told me… he told me how having my way was more important to me than doing the right thing. He said I should be educating the children, but instead have been indoctrinating them. That I was blindly dragging the school down a path that I thought was right, without even considering if it was really the best for the pupils and their future. He said I didn't have an ounce of self-criticism that a scientist, as I claim to be, should possess, and if I would for a second stop and think, I would see that under the guise of modernization, I have divested Hogwarts of its identity." Viktor listened, nodding. Hermione was incredibly popular in wizarding Britain and had been one of the faces of the new, diverse, progressive British wizarding world. Malfoy would not dare to take any action against her openly and ruin his already bad reputation further. Still, he knew what to say to hit Hermione exactly where her insecurities were.
"The Headmaster did not like this, at all. He dismissed the meeting, warning the other professors that this conversation will never be mentioned to anyone. Then he ripped me and Malfoy a new one. He said that if we did not learn to be professional and collegial, he would not hesitate to take disciplinarian action, and that we should take the summer break to consider our behaviour…" She pulled her legs to her chest and joined her hands beneath her knees. "He then told me to leave and Malfoy to remain behind. I went to my office, and did… I don't even know what I did. After a while, Malfoy dropped by and apologized."
"Well, that's a good thing, no? I am sure it wasn't easy for him."
"I am sure it was, even someone as obtuse as I am could see that he wasn't sincere. He said he was looking forward to improving our relationship in the next term. And I couldn't do it. I couldn't face working with him for another year. Or another minute. I had all my reports and grades ready anyway, I called Amandine and Thomas and told them that I was leaving. I handed Amandine my resignation letter and told her to give it to the Headmaster when I am gone. That was yesterday evening, he must have got it by now. Oh bugger, he will be looking for me."
"Don't worry, you don't have to face him." Viktor had ways of keeping people away from his property and girlfriend, even Severus-fucking-superwizard-Snape.
"Well, I will have to though, eventually…"
"You will have all the time you need. He is a reasonable man, he will not force you to see him if you don't want to." Viktor was a little alarmed by how easily he lied to his girlfriend. He didn't care, he could not have her worrying about Snape on top of everything else.
"You are probably right, as usual." She moved from her chair to Viktor's lap. They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the birds nervously chirping around. The air was warm and heavy with the scent of roses and honeysuckle.
"After I finished packing, I came straight here. My parents don't expect me till next week, and I couldn't tell them yet."
"It is OK sweetheart, you are here now. We will deal with everything later." Hermione lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him, her almond eyes soft and misty.
"Thank you, Viktor. For being there. For being my love, my friend, my brother." Viktor captured each tear that rolled down the blotched cheeks with his lips. "For being my safe haven where I can seek refuge. I don't know what I would do without you."
"Of course I am here, my love. Of course, I am your safe haven, and you may hide here whenever you wish. But… that is not what ships are made for, is it?" Hermione smiled, wiping her wet cheeks with her palms. "I just need some time." Viktor kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her runny nose, and her coral lips. She tasted salty and sweet, familiar and new, happy and sad… she tasted like love.
"I feel so much better now." she said, stretching. Viktor took the opportunity to suck her right nipple over her t-shirt, leaving a wet patch and causing her to giggle. "Do you have anything to eat? I am starving. I shouldn't have had that whiskey over an empty stomach…" She rubbed her tummy with a pout. Viktor put her on the opposite chair, quickly tossed some stuff together in the kitchen, and came back with a tall glass.
"That looks like a milkshake. Is it milkshake?" Hermione sipped through the glass straw. "It is delicious! What is it?" She kept on sipping.
"Almond milk, oats, peanut butter, chocolate powder and ice cubes blended together. Do you like it?" Hermione nodded, ditching the straw and swallowing the whole thing down in big gulps.
"One more, please?" Viktor laughed, and prepared another shake. When he came back, Hermione was calling her cat.
"Thank you so much! I was famished. I need to find Pebbles, she is too little to be wandering around. Do you know how to ward the garden so that she can't get out?"
"Hermione, I am the one who taught you how to set wards. Of course, I know. As for the cat, you forget again that you are a witch." He wandlessly summoned the small cat, which dug her tiny nails into his forearm, not amused.
"You should not have done that! What if she hit something on the way?"
"She wouldn't have, she was on the peach tree and couldn't get down. There was nothing in her way."
"Peach tree? The one back there? How did you see her from here?"
"I don't know, maybe I am good at seeing small yellow things in the air." He handed the small feline to Hermione and healed the scratches on his arms. The moment she was placed on the ground, the cat darted off again. Viktor picked up a few orange hairs from his clothes. "You can go unpack already. I will feed these to the wards, so that if your cat gets near them, she will be swallowed whole." Hermione punched him in the stomach, and he let her land the blow, taking the punishment for his cruel joke like a man.
Later, as they cooked dinner, Viktor finally told Hermione the story of his visit to Durmstrang, the omnipotent protection charm, and the book he found in his father's library. He wanted to distract her, but more than that, he needed her help. With the witness statements and murder case waiting on his desk, he wouldn't have much time to invest in uncovering the mystery of the bundle.
"I think after we devour this beauty," Hermione said, pulling the grilled vegetable and ricotta lasagne out of the oven, "...we should involve in a little experimental archaeology."
"And with devour this beauty you mean…" Viktor waited for her to place the hot dish onto the stovetop, moved her hair to the side and lightly scraped his teeth against her neck, eliciting a tiny gasp. Encouraged by her reaction, he wrapped his arms around her waist and latched onto the crook of her neck.
"Viktor… if you think I am so hungry that I won't fuck you before dinner, you are wrong."
"Mmh, I love to be wrong. It is my favourite," he whispered to her ear, catching the tender pink earlobe between his teeth. His dainty girlfriend retaliated by grabbing him by the wrist, dragging him to the bedroom and pushing him onto the bed. Lasagne had to cool down a bit, anyway.
"What is experimental archaeology?" Viktor finished the last bite of his lasagne and took a last sip of cold, crisp Riesling.
"You first generate a hypothesis based on your archaeological findings, and then you test the hypothesis by recreating or approximating the situation. This way, you try to find out whether a certain process could really have taken place in the past the way you envision it today."
"So, we try to recreate the amulet by writing things on a piece of paper and folding it?"
"Well, the evidence so far tells us that this is more or less what they did, right? I don't see what harm can come from trying. Worst case, it won't work."
"Or, the magic will interpret it differently and something else will happen," Viktor remarked, recalling the words of his Headmaster about how this kind of magic is unpredictable. They cleared the table and moved to the sofa. Hermione poured herself another glass of wine, Viktor took a bottle of mineral water instead. He rarely indulged in a second glass.
"Magic is not a sentient being that can interpret things." She took a block and pencil, just like she did earlier that week in Hogwarts. "We can start with something safe. Let's see… shall we try to make you blond?"
"Sure." It was not that Viktor didn't care if he was blond or not, he was just rather sure that it wouldn't work.
"I wish, with all my being, that my boyfriend Viktor Krumov would turn blond." She read out loud as she wrote, folded the paper as it was folded in the illustration, and waited.
Nothing happened.
"Well, this was rather anti-climactic…"
They tried a few different things, but nothing worked. Viktor was getting tired, he wasn't looking forward to Monday morning and was hoping for a second round of love-making before sleep, preferably one where he would get to do something else than just lie down and enjoy.
"Sweet witch, shall we continue this another time?"
"What? Oh, of course. You have to work tomorrow, right? And, I would very much like another round before sleep, if you are amenable?" She cupped his crotch with an innocent smile on her face that contrasted her lewd gesture deliciously.
"I guess I could be persuaded…"
Later, as they lay in bed, Viktor had been on the verge of falling asleep a few times, each time being roused by Hermione stirring or turning.
"What is wrong, sweetheart? Can't you sleep?"
"I… I will miss the Graduation. It would have been the last chance for me to see my seventh year students, and now they won't even have a graduation photo with me. I left without saying goodbye to any of my students. They will be so disappointed..." The last words were muffled as she buried her face into her pillow. She had made a decision, a brave one, maybe a right one, but a rash one nonetheless. Now that her emotions finally cooled down a bit, the consequences of her decision were finally dawning on her. Viktor's heart ached. He had wanted this, wanted her, here, in his bed. Living with him, sharing his life… but not like this. He should have been more careful what he wished for. He pulled her to himself.
"You can still go back for the ceremony. There is time."
"I can't… I can't face it. Severus will try to persuade me to come back, and maybe he will succeed. But I can't go back, not any more."
"Maybe the summer break will change your mind? We can think of alternative "dealing with Malfoy" strategies. My mother can help, she is good at handling people like him."
"No, it is not… it is not just Malfoy. I mean, I do believe that he should not be let anywhere near children, and I will die on that hill. I have been at the receiving end of his curses when I was fifteen! How can anyone trust him? But, the worst thing is… I think he was right. Right about me."
"Don't let him get to you, Hermione. He is good at this, and you have been a pain in his ass all term." He held her just a little closer, yet, she felt distant.
"It wouldn't get to me this much if there wasn't some truth in it. I should have been educating the children, giving them the opportunity to become themselves, the best person they can become, to unfold their potential… but I have been imposing my world view onto them. Yes, they have petitioned to reduce animal products in Hogwarts, but only after I taught them about the horrors of factory farming. Is paper and pen really better than quill and parchment? One needs to cut down trees to make paper, but quills and parchment are made from waste. I have encouraged them to cast their spells in English, but I never considered that this would damage their connection to their ancestry. I just wanted them to learn faster and easier, but is that really all there is to it? And yes, I taught them that virginity is a social construct, that masturbation is nothing to be embarrassed about, that consent is important… but isn't it what their parents are there for? Is it really my place? I have even been bossing Severus around and nagging him to improve lab safety in the Potions classroom, and he, bless him, took my advice… How would I have reacted if he interfered with the way I do my teaching? I am sure I would have snapped at him. I am bossy, I think my way is better than everyone else's, and I never even stop to think if it is really the case. I have been stepping all over the Board of Governors and Severus to pass the school reforms that I thought Hogwarts needed. I think myself above everyone else. I am not suitable for being a teacher."
The last words were mere whispers into his chest where she had laid her forehead. Viktor could not help but sigh. The things that Malfoy had said indeed seemed to have hit a sore spot. "You are being too hard on yourself."
"I am…"
"Ssh…" He breathed into her hair, before he gently pushed her back, just enough so that he could look at her. "You had your turn, now it is mine. You taught your students that it is important to source food responsibly. That reducing the consumption of animal products is good for the environment. I don't see anything wrong with this. What they do with this information is their decision. You did not tell them to stop eating meat or using parchment, right? They used the information you gave them, and decided for themselves."
"I guess…"
"Next point. In what language does Amandine cast her spells?"
"French, sometimes Latin."
"In what language do I cast my spells?"
"You are rather good at wordless spells."
"Hermione…"
"OK, OK, Russian, mostly?"
"So, why shouldn't your students cast their spells in English? Who knows, maybe their parents will also start casting their spells in English. To those who want to be able to read old texts, one can teach proper Latin."
"That is exactly what I thought!" She exclaimed, her little fists lightly pressing into his chest. She was slowly coming back to him.
"About sex education… you know how many wizarding families send their kids to school without teaching them… how do you say… the birds and the bees?" Hermione giggled. "You are a teacher, you educate them. Education is so much more than learning how to cast spells and cook potions. You can't leave it to the mercy of the parents. Your parents are open and progressive, but many others are very bad at this kind of thing. Maybe they will be angry at you for teaching "dirty things" to their kids, but when the kids grow up, they will be more comfortable talking to their children about sex. If no one teaches them, they will grow up thinking that it is bad to talk about these things, just like their parents did."
"Hmm…" Her breathing was a lot calmer now, and she seemed to relax.
"And the rest of the reforms… Have I told you that the Durmstrang Headmaster is very impressed by you?"
"He is?"
"Yes, he told me. "She is a force of nature," he said. The world is changing, the wizarding world is changing, too. Hogwarts needs to adapt, or it will lag behind even more. Decisions needed to be taken, and you were there to drive these decisions. The Headmaster is still relatively young, but he has never been anywhere else than Hogwarts. He doesn't know what else is possible. You gave them new blood, showed them another way of doing things. And yes, maybe you also gave them a little kick in the butt every so often. So what? Whatever decision was taken, you did not do it alone. You are not that strong, sweetheart."
"I do boss people around."
"Of course you do, but your influence is not so great that people will always do what you say." She was not so happy with that statement, but Viktor ignored it. "Ever since you were a tiny little thing, you have been running. For Harry, Ron, then war, then rebuilding, then your studies, always going, never looking back. Since I met you, you have been taking one important decision after the other. Of course, every decision brings a consequence, and that forces you to take another decision… sometimes it is good to stop. Just be. Or even do what you do now, doubt yourself. It is a good thing, to doubt yourself, your decisions. If Voldemort doubted himself a little, we would all have been spared a lot of trouble." Hermione laughed against his chest, fingernails lightly digging into his skin. "If you want, I will come to the ceremony with you. I will stand next to you all the time, and if the Headmaster bothers you, I will scowl at him."
"You can scowl."
"I can. Even better than Headmaster Snape".
"I am not sure about that."
"Take me with you, and you will see."
"Viktor, you are trying to save the future of the British wizarding population. You have no time for this."
"So what?"
"The case is your priority now. My problems aren't as important."
"They are to me."
"Viktor…"
"Sshh…" They lay quietly for a few moments.
"Let's make a deal. I will help you with your problem, and you help me with the case?"
Hermione did not answer, she was already asleep.
Изготовление волшебных палочек в Средневековой и прединдустриальной Европе: Wand Making in the Medieval and Early Modern Europe
Зелья в Средиземноморье бронзового века: от минойской до микенской цивилизации: Potion Making in Bronze Age Mediterranean Civilizations: From Minoa to Mycenae
Древнеегипетские заклятия для контроля разума и памяти: от периода Нового царства до Эллинистический Египета: Mind and Memory Control Spells in Ancient Egypt: From the New Kingdom to the Roman Period
Развитие гендерного равенства в Магическом мире начала 20 века: Evolution of Gender Equality in the early 20th Century Magical World
Прошлое, настоящее и будущие магии без [использования] волшебной палочки: The Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow of Wandless Magic
The Observer Effect will take a two-week break after this chapter, and be back on the 23rd of September. If you manage to catch up with the chapters in the meanwhile, I would be very happy to receive feedback!