Chapter 26

A knock sounded on Hermione's office door. She put down the parchment she was reading and called to invite the guest in. Harry stepped through the door. She grinned at him. "I didn't know you would be in the office today!"

"We're testing some folks today, to see if they've got what it takes to be Aurors," he answered. "Stand up; I promised somebody I'd give her aunt a hug for her."

She stood and hugged him, flinching again. She was beginning to think hugging was overrated. Hopefully the bruises would go away soon. Harry gave her a questioning glance, but didn't say anything as he took the seat across from her desk.

"I haven't heard from you since we left the other night. You didn't go home, did you?"

"No, I didn't."

"Have you been home since? Ron didn't come in today, or call. His supervisor asked Author where he was, since you weren't in yet, but he didn't know."

"I don't know either, Harry; I haven't been home but for a few minutes. I haven't been staying there. I suppose the alcohol could be getting to be too much."

"Would you like me to go check on him?"

"No, Harry, thank you, but I'll go home after work and see if he's there. I suppose it's my responsibility, after all."

He gave her a serious look. "You know, pretty much everyone thinks you ought to just leave him. Even Molly, and she doesn't even know about the women."

All she could think was that none of them knew the worst of it.

When she stepped inside that afternoon, she barely recognized the cramped apartment she had tried so hard to make homey. Bottles and trash were everywhere, and the smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the air, along with a musty smell that made her think of nasty sex. Lavender was passed out on the couch, but Ron was nowhere to be found.

She went to her office and discovered that every drawer of her desk had been pulled out and dumped on the floor. Her vision turned red. This was her private space! As she was sorting through her things, she heard the front door open. She stepped out of the room to find Ron carrying a thirty-pack to the kitchen.

"How dare you go through my desk!"

"Oh, look, my sweet little wife, come home from her big bad boyfriend's house. Not even a kiss for me, apparently."

She whirled, too furious to bother fighting with him. She gathered up her papers from work and packed them neatly in her briefcase. A shadow fell over her, and she stood to find Ron in the doorway.

"I was looking for those silly love notes, like you used to write me. I'm sure you have some from him; he seems like that type." When she didn't answer, he went on to say, "The son of a bitch broke my nose; are you pleased?"

"Quite pleased," she answered curtly and went back to sorting her papers.

"What the hell did I do to deserve that?"

She looked at him, amazed that he could be so stupid, or so in denial. She turned and raised her shirt to show him the patchwork pattern across her lower back. All he said was, "Well, that's different. I can do what I want to you."

"No, Ron, you can't." She pushed past him out of the room, out of the apartment, and Apparated back to Izbor.

Viktor was shelving books for his mother at her shop. The petite dynamo snuck up behind him, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

"Mama! Don't scare me like that!" he scolded her in Bulgarian.

"I didn't do anything unusual. Your head was in the clouds."

He was guilty as charged. He grinned at her and picked up a few more books, sliding them into place.

"You look so happy lately, Vitya; happier than I remember you being in years. Vhat has happened?"

"Mama…" he drawled, not wanting to mention Hermione, knowing what her reaction would be. She put her hand on his arm, pulling him around to face her.

"It's that girl, isn't it? Herm…ah…Mrs. Granger. The married girl."

He'd never been able to lie convincingly to his mother. Well, not unless there was at least a glimmer of truth in the matter, like when he'd said he was showing Hermione around. He knew he would never be able to deny his feelings for her to his mother.

He sighed. "Yes."

"She has been here again?"

"She's stayed at my house the past two nights."

"She is leaving her husband?"

Was she? Viktor didn't think so, but she kept coming back to him. He hoped, oh, how he hoped. He didn't even know if she would be back tonight; he had been afraid to ask, afraid she'd say no.

"You are not answering me, so she must not be leaving him. You know better than to have married girls in your bed! I suppose I should be grateful you aren't parading her around Izbor with the ring sparkling on her hand."

He was growing impatient with this conversation. His mother didn't know Hermione's situation, and she didn't understand the depth of his feelings. He wasn't willing to tell her either, not at this moment in time. "Thank you for your advice, Mama, but I will keep my married women wherever I'd like them to be."

Her face turned red and her eyes shot daggers. "Viktor Krum! You had better not—"

"Mama," he said, calmly, "there are things going on that you don't know anything about, things that are not my business to tell you. Just accept that, and accept that I am a grown man and I can do anything I want to. And don't you dare say anything to her! That isn't your place! Please?"

She sighed and smiled sadly, raising her hand to cup his cheek. "If she makes you happy, Vitya, I am happy for you, but I don't want to see you hurt again."

"She does. And I am beginning to feel like this time with her is worth it, even if I wind up hurting again when it's over."

Mama Krum watched Viktor leave that day with love and concern in her eyes. For her boy's sake, she hoped that English girl had good sense.