Chapter 14: It's Not You, It's Me.....



The door bell rang. Hermoine tried to ignore it. She moved the chess piece into position.

"Check, Patrice."

"Well played, Hermoine. Better go get the door."

"Don't touch the board until I get back."

"I won't," Patrice replied with a little laugh. "I'm not a cheater you know."

Hermoine opened the door. She let out a little gasp in disbelief.

"Viktor!" cried Hermoine excitedly. "I thought you weren't going to be here until tomorrow!"

"I vasn't going to," he replied softly. "May I come in, Her-mo-ninny?"

"Of course you can! Sorry, I guess you just through me off." Hermoine stepped aside, and let Viktor in.

Viktor smiled at her, his eyes meeting hers. Hermoine felt a lump in her throat. She could tell something was wrong.

"What's wrong Viktor? Are your mum and dad alright?"

"Every-vone's fine, Her-mo-ninny," he replied gruffly. He blushed, and started over again. "I have never met any-vone like you, Her-mo-ninny," he told her. Hermoine felt her stomach sink. "The thing is, Her-mo-ninny, that, vell, I am not in love vith you. Not anymore. I-" he stopped, and looked her over. "I have come to say goodbye. And, I vant you to know, it is not anything you did. It is me."

Hermoine blinked stupidly at him for a moment. She wanted to feel angry at him. She couldn't though.

"I see," she replied emotionlessly. She wondered why she was not more upset. It occurred to her that she must have known this was coming. After all, they were worlds apart.

"I hope ve can still be friends," Viktor continued softly. "I vill write you."

"Sure," she replied distantly, still in her thoughts. "That would be great."

"Goodbye, my Her-mo-ninny." He kissed her on the cheek. Hermoine felt a twinge of anger surface, then it was gone. "You are a good kid, Her-mo-ninny. Don't change."

Viktor wrapped his scarf around his neck with a flourish, and stepped back outside. Hermoine watched numbly as he got into the car with his father. Another man that Hermoine had never seen before was driving. Viktor slid in next to a pretty girl. The girl kissed him, and not in a friendly way. Hermoine felt anger rise up as the car drove away, and the girl snuggled into Viktor.

Hermoine stepped back, and slammed the door. There were clean dishes in the dish rack. Hermoine grabbed the dry pots and began to slam them about as she threw them into the right cupboards.

"You okay, Hermoine?" asked a soft voice. Hermoine spun around. Patrice stood there, looking concerned. Hermoine had forgotten all about the other girl.

"I'm fine," she spat, more venom in her voice then she had meant. Hermoine slammed another pot away.

"Don't lie, Hermoine," Patrice replied, taking the pot out of Hermoine's hands. "You're not fine. If you don't talk about it, you might smash your pots to bits." Hermoine let out a bitter laugh. Patrice took hold of her wrist. "Hermoine, snap out of it. The jerk wasn't worth it! Celebrity always gets to people. Forget about that loser!"

Hermoine dropped her gaze. She could feel tears building in her eyes. She didn't want to cry in front of Patrice, but suddenly, she just couldn't help it.

"Patrice, he was my first love," Hermoine sobbed. She threw her arms around Patrice, and sobbed into her shoulder. Patrice returned the hug.

"It hurts now, but one day you'll be sitting in your house next to your husband, thinking how lucky you are, and you won't even remember Krum."

Hermoine didn't know how long she had been crying for, when Patrice lead her to the couch.

"Listen, I'll get us some tea. Two sugars, right?" Hermoine shook her head.

"One sugar. But we haven't any sugar. Just sweetener. I'll take two of those, though." Patrice smiled, and patted the top of Hermoine's head.

"It'll be okay, Hermoine."

"I know," Hermoine replied quietly. "But why did he have to move on right away?"

"Because he's a jerk." Hermoine smiled slightly.

"I guess Ron's first impression of him was right then," she murmured to herself. She heard clanging, and sat up. "Patrice? You okay?"

"Fine!" came the reply. "But I could use some help. Where d'you keep your tea?"

Hermoine stuck her head into the kitchen. Patrice stood in the middle of a pile of pots. One had landed on her head, and she wore it like a hat. Patrice grinned. Hermoine couldn't help but laugh.

"I'll give you a hand. Patrice you are totally helpless in the kitchen!"

"Not totally!" her friend protested. "I managed to boil the water." Hermoine laughed again, and Patrice joined her. The two of them put the pots away, as Patrice told Hermoine about her first breakup. Hermoine found herself laughing harder, and by the end of the day she had completely forgotten about Viktor Krum.