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Author Note: Mhh…This chapter is not very dark and there is a brief bit of fluff between Viktor and Hermione towards the bottom. I want it known now that I am Wiccan. So, this story and all my others will reflect my religion. If such talk offends you, I apologize, but I am not going to take words I use in my everyday life out of things I write when others are not required to. Alright, everyone understands this? I will not tolerate anybody telling me that it is wrong for me to say the things I do, this happened a lot on my other username. If you really feel the need to tell me why I am damning myself or something of the sort, email me. Do not leave it in a review. My minor rant is over, sorry for taking up your time.

Breaking the Habit

Chapter Two – Heal Me

As Hermione dodged through the crowded streets of Diagon Alley, the only thought racing across her brain was the fear that her boyfriend had seen her. She would not survive two beatings in a single week. The first familiar shop that broke through the barricade in her mind was Triple W, or Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She skidded to a halt before the sickeningly orange store front, before flinging herself in. Despite her loathing of the family's youngest son, she could not help but adore the rest of the clan.

She trusted them, though she would never tell them, or anyone else, about what happened between herself and Ron. To her luck, the shop was extremely crowded and she easily lost herself within the throng of excited bodies. She let out a shaky breath and leaned against a display, rubbing a trembling hand across her face. If she forced herself enough, she could loose herself in the happy chatter of young mischief makers and forget.

She snorted quietly to herself and wrapped her arms loosely around her abdomen. She did not even know if the man she saw was Ron. She simply caught a glimpse of orange hair and let her instincts take over. After a quiet sigh passed from her mouth, she straightened her back before walking up to the counter. One of the twins beamed down to her and she returned it with a weak smile that no where near reached her eyes.

"Hello George, may I use your floo quickly?"

His brow lifted in that trademark smirk. "I'm Fred."

"George..." She said simply, not in the mood to argue with him about his identity.

He muttered to himself how he never knew how exactly she could tell him and his brother apart when even their own mother had difficulty doing it at times, before nodding his acquiescence. "Sure, Ron would get on my case if he ever found out I deprived his precious Hermione of something she so desperately needed."

He saw something like a mixture of loathing and fear flicker across her face before she tightly reigned in her emotions, a forced expression that looked more like a grimace than something happy settling on her lips. She stepped quickly behind the counter and ducked into the backroom. Within seconds she had thrown a small handful of the glittering emerald powder into the flames and called out her destination.

She stepped into the whirling flames and her last sight of the shop was a worried air that lingered on George's features. Her offset balance cancelled all thoughts about that peculiar look and she promptly stumbled once she found herself standing on her own hearth. She drew in a shaky breath, the flecks of ash that had been kicked up upon her arrival sticking to her throat not irritating her, and called out to check if anybody was in her home.

"R-Ron?" She winced inwardly at the stutter, unconsciously shuddering as his name slid around on her tongue leaving a slick, unpleasant oily sensation behind it.

To her extreme relief, no answer came and she gratefully sank into one of the dark red armchairs by her recently cleaned coffee table. Her forehead fell into her open palms as her petite body shook furiously, the animalistic dread that had consumed her since she had been sitting in the café with Viktor began to leave her bones.

"Oh Goddess," she quite suddenly gasped, her head jerking up, "I just left Viktor there! He must think I am such a boorish creature!' She did not understand, however, why she was so utterly concerned with his opinion of her.

True, they had been friends for quite some time, but she had not thought of him for several months until he sat down at her table earlier. She let out a soft groan and pushed his presence out of her mind. She was not in the mood to contemplate the only other man who had ever made her logical heart flutter like that of a brainless schoolgirl, though she refused to admit such information to herself however.

Hermione picked up one of the pots bubbling merrily away at her stove and carried it to the sink. She began to pour the boiling water into a strainer, the cooked pasta hitting the cool plastic of the colander with unpleasant sucking noises. The doorbell suddenly rang and she sloshed the last of the ridiculously hot liquid onto the hand that held the sieve in place.

She squeaked in pain, tears springing to her eyes and she promptly let the metal pot drop into the other side of the divided sink. Not remembering at that moment where she had put her wand, she simply wiped her skin against the nearest kitchen towel before hurrying to the door. Upon pushing it open, she was extremely surprised to find a slightly nervous Viktor Krum.

"Viktor?" She asked, head tilted to the side in a questioning manner.

An affectionate smile spread across his face. "Hermione! I am sorry for barging in on you like this, but…Vhat did you do to your hand?"

She looked down and winced at the angry, dark pink flesh. The burnt area suddenly began to throb in the most unpleasant way and she very nearly moaned from pain. She looked up at him with a gaze that started to glitter with unshed tears, her own weakness appalling to her.

"I was cooking and when the bell rang, it surprised me so I accidentally spilt boiling water on myself."

"Vhere is your vand?" When she simply stared at him blankly, he stepped into the flat and gently pushed her towards the armchair she had vacated a few hours earlier. "Sit, I vill heal it for you."

"You really don't have to. It is around here, somewhere."

Their eyes met and his shown with uncontained warmth, something she was unused to being directed at her. "I vant to help you." That simple phrase held an amazing amount of genuine emotion.

It caused her to sit without pausing to think about her actions. He knelt in front of her and gently cradled her injured limb in his palm, which fit together near perfectly. As he worked quickly, his thumb absently rubbed against the smooth skin of her inner wrist, completely distracting her from paying attention to the spells he used.

Her mind branched away from the world around her as she instantly began to think about the life she could have led if she had not succumbed to Ron's 'affections'. The only romantic attention she could recall receiving had been from the man before her and her boyfriend, their ways of treating her, even in the beginning, were drastically different. Viktor's shyness and peculiar attraction to someone as common as herself had intrigued her. Ron, on the other hand, once he realized that he was liked her, had acted completely self confident and expected that she would go to him when he got around to asking.

It ashamed her, but he was correct. There had been little physical attraction on her part towards him, but due to her phobia of being alone, she leapt at the chance of having a significant other. Sure, the first six months or so of their relationship once they graduated had been idyllic, but once they spent that day at the Potter's, she lived in constant terror. How different everything could have turned out if she simply had chosen another person in Ron's role.

A voice she thought to be dead, whispered softly in her mind. 'It doesn't have to be this way. You're only twenty, your life is no where near over. Choose someone else…Someone like Viktor.'

'If I even try to break up with Ron, my life will end very quickly. He's an auror; he would find a way to blame my untimely death on some rogue Death Eater.'

'Viktor would protect you.'

'Against a fully trained auror? While I would be touched at the gesture, he would never survive. He is probably all ready married. He is a big star and he must be twenty four now. Somebody already won the proverbial lottery and got him. I am ceasing this conversation with myself.'

She realized quite suddenly that they were staring at each other and he had long since finished healing her burn. A faint flush coloured her unhealthily pale cheeks a soft pink, yet she could not bring herself to pull her hand away from his. It felt somehow, right. This was the sensation that was missing when Ron touched her, at least whenever they came in contact with each other and he was not hurting her. She noticed that in the few seconds she had been attacked by mental cobwebs, his eyes had drifted to her exposed forearm.

Earlier, when she had been pouring the pasta and hot water into the strainer, she had pushed her long sleeves up past her elbows to keep from getting them wet. She had forgotten to unroll them somewhere between burning herself and opening the door. Several pearly scars ran along the length of her inner arm, magical remnants of some of the curses Ron had used her as a test subject for. No matter how many different charms she used while studying to be a medi-witch had been able to make them disappear.

The curse left distinct marks.

The skin had turned a grey hue and was raised, puckered. Only aurors used the curse, she was not sure how they regulated use of it, but it would not work if another attempted to speak it. All throughout the wizarding newspapers earlier that year, reporters had raved about this wonderful new spell that could mark dark wizards and witches. A picture of a captured Death Eater with the peculiar blemish had been included in the vast majority of the articles so that these marked individuals could be identified by the general public. His brow furrowed and it was clear, he recognized them but simply could not place them. Hermione jerked her hand out of his grasp and quickly pushed her sleeves down to cover herself, unconsciously clearing her throat nervously.

"Th-Thank you for helping me Viktor."

He shook his head quickly to clear his head before letting an easy smile flush his face as he looked up at her. "You have no need to thank me. It vos the least I could do for you."

She threw a momentary glance at the clock on the coffee table that she could just see over Viktor's shoulder; trying her best to ignore the apparent tenderness in his voice. "I know that it is early, but I was fixing myself dinner when you arrived. I made more than enough to feed two people…" She had no idea why she was inviting him to eat with her.

Her common sense screamed at her to kick him out of her apartment as soon as she could, just incase Ron popped in without first checking that she was home. Yet, some stubborn and much downtrodden part of her yearned for the company of someone she instinctively knew would never harm her. She was weak, her boyfriend surely told her that enough, and she gave into that little voice that cried for love.

Perhaps Viktor could not give her the type of attention that she truly craved, but any company would be better than that of her abusive significant other. She desperately wanted to distrust everyone, yet she could not help but have faith in the Bulgarian watching her with such want in his dark eyes. A rare smile tugged her lips up slightly at the corners, it bringing some light into her normally deadened hues.

While he was surprised at her offer, he answered quickly. "I vould like to dine vith you. Vhat are ve eating?"

"Pasta." She murmured softly, suddenly shyer that she remembered being in quite some time. "I actually need to go finish it; you can stay here or come with me to the kitchen…" She rose and began to walk, he following close behind.

A tiny thrill of excitement ran through her at defying Ron and, unbeknownst to her conscious mind, that spark of rebelliousness rooted somewhere deep within her soul. Strength came to her and slowly, it would nurture her back to life.

Thank you all so much for reviewing. It is food for a writer's soul. The more people who review, the faster I will update.

Blessed Be

Ame