Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author Note: Oh my Gods, over forty reviews! Thank you all for reviewed, that was amazing! This chapter has the Quidditch World Cup, please excuse me for not doing an in depth coverage over it, but the actual game has little do with the story. It's more the emotions tied in with it, I hope you like it.

Breaking the Habit

Chapter Six – Heaven at the World Cup

Blankets softer than anything she could recall feeling kept her fragile body warm as Hermione slowly roused herself from slumber. Her fingers were curled against her cheek as her eyes opened and she yawned softly, the feeling of contentment something she could not comprehend. Her russet hued curls fluffed around her head in a delicate aura and she let out a yelp when she realized the bed she lay in was not hers. The man unconscious on the sofa on the other side of the room lurched into a sitting position, looking about blurrily. When he saw her, he very nearly fell over himself in his haste to get to her side. Upon recognizing him, she smiled shyly up to him and pulled the blankets up closer around her chest.

"Viktor…Why am I in your house?"

He reached out and gently stroked her hair. "You cried yourself to sleep last night and I couldn't leave you in that place. I took you back with me. I svear I didn't touch you!"

She laughed quietly, amazing at how comfortable she felt around him. "I know you wouldn't. Don't worry, I trust you."

A blush flushed his dark skin and he leapt up from the side of the mattress. He rubbed the back of his neck with a calloused hand before looking around.

He motioned towards the bags scattered on the floor, all of them closed. "I packed your clothes." It was clear by the darkening of that colour that he had brought everything he could find.

"Thank you." She murmured.

"I vill leave you. The bathroom is through that door and my house elf, Miff, vill help you if you need it. I haff to go to practice." He leaned down and brushed his mouth against her forehead.

She watched him walk briskly from the room before she swung her legs out from beneath the heavy duvet. She plucked her robe up from a nearby chair and wrapped it tightly about herself. She felt so out of place amongst the extravagance that seemed to be apart of a Quidditch player's every day life. A soft noise escaped her as those hated feelings of unimportance welled up inside of her. She wrapped her arms around her torso and knelt before one of the more tattered suitcases.

Upon opening it, she quickly found a simply pair of dark jeans and a soft sweater. She bundled the clothes and some fresh undergarments beneath her arm and walked briskly into the bathroom. It was more lavish than even the Head Girl's bathroom back at Hogwarts. Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes and she dropped her armload on the smooth white marble floor. She sunk to her knees, the cold stone sucking the heat from her flesh, and buried her face in her palms. She knew Viktor cared about her, but Ron's words echoed in her head. Nobody wanted damaged goods like her.

Who would? She had been used more times than she cared to remember and someone like Viktor deserved someone sweet and pure, someone whose past was not tainted with darkness like hers was. Salty wetness dripped through the cracks between her fingers and splattered onto the floor as she sobbed quietly, feeling terribly out of place amongst such expense. She truly was worthless and deserved no better than the treatment Ron gave her. Her voice rose in a wail as she voiced her deep unhappiness in the only way her currently one track mind could devise. She never heard a soft pop and did not realize someone entered the room with her until a little hand touched one of her shaking arms.

"Miss shouldn't cry…The Master hates it when you cry."

She drew her blotchy head out of her hands and stared down into the yellow, bulbous hues of a house elf. She sniffled pathetically and wiped her cheeks roughly.

"Are you Miff?" She whispered hoarsely.

"Yes Miss." The remotely female creature squeaked.

"How do you know that about Viktor?"

"Master gets angry after Master finds things out about the Miss. Master said it was because the Miss cries. Why does Miss cry, especially when the Master looks at her like he does?"

Hermione's tragic expression remained just as hopeless. "No matter how Viktor looks at me, I'm still worthless. Why would somebody as wonderful as him want to dirty himself with someone like me? I've been broken more times than I can count; he deserves someone untouched by violence."

"Who would tell Miss something as horrible as that?"

"My boyfriend."

"Then Miss should not listen to the Miss's boyfriend."

"But what he says is true. He's the only person who will always be there for me."

"Where was Miss's Weasel when Miss needed company and got cursed? Wasn't the Master the one who always came for the Miss?"

She sighed sadly, her chocolate hues miserable. "Ron was the one doing the cursing."

The house elf gently patted her bicep, a surprisingly motherly expression on its little face. "Miff will leave the Miss now. If Miss needs anything, call for Miff and Miff will come." It snapped its fingers and it disappeared in a small pop of displaced air.

Hermione blinked slowly as she stared at the spot where Miff had been. Before she dissolved back into confused tears, the thought that perhaps Ron was actually the wrong, messed up, and unwanted one.

Hermione dragged a hairbrush through her magically dried curls, glad that she had used the potion waiting in the shower for her. It had taken much of the frizz from her hair and let it fall in loose waves down her back. She set the brush down with a clank and turned around. It was hard to hide from a woman looking into a mirror. Her gaze drifted up to Viktor's face, an uncertain smile on his lips. She stayed where she was and tried to keep the emotions from earlier in the bathroom to shine in her eyes.

Somehow, time had flown by and the day of the Quidditch World Cup arrived. She had not left his house since he brought here there in the dead of night, loathe to leave the safety it offered. He, several times, attempted to convince her to sit in the Owner's Box along with the rest of the player's significant others, but she had declined each time. She was unsure of how she felt as being referred to as a 'significant other', though a little thrill of delight went through her each time she heard it.

"You are ready?" He offered his hand to her.

She nodded and slipped her fingers into his offered palm, a wave of acceptance washing over her at his touch. Despite her treacherous thoughts, she could not deny the way she felt about this tall Bulgarian.

"Yes."

They strolled through his house until they reached the back garden, the rich aroma of blossoming flowers momentarily calming the racing of her heart. Her eyes fluttered closed as she filled her lungs with the soothing smell and when she opened them, a gentle flush coloured her face. Viktor watched her with a deep affection shining in her eyes, it far stronger than any of the weak feeling Ron has shown for her. That blessed warmth beat away her uncertainty and for a brief second the proud, brave, self confident girl that had been beaten out of her returned.

When he looked at her like that, the horrors of her past melted away and she felt precious. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, her arms slipping around his neck. She heard him quietly whisper the spell for apparation and closed her hues quickly, the blurring of colour always nauseating. When she opened them, they were in a small room that clearly had been set up to receive apparating visitors. She drew out of his hold and brushed imaginary pieces of lint from the front of her casual, muggle clothing.

"You haff your tickets?"

She nodded. "They are in my back pocket. And…" She held up a hand as he opened his mouth to speak. "I do remember where we are meeting afterwards, I have not forgotten so please don't worry. I also know that if I find myself in any sort of trouble I simply have to scream to the security wizard you had posted extremely close to my seat." She smiled tenderly, before taking several steps towards the exit. "Good luck, Viktor."

"Don't I get something for good luck?"

She laughed nervously and moved closer to him. He gently took her hands in his and she sweetly pressed her mouth against his, chastely kissing him. She felt him shift nearer to her and when the delicious heat of him washed over her, she melted against his chest. No matter what happened in her past, his simple touch could make her forget everything. His velvety tongue brushed against her lower lip and her mouth opened enough for it to be admitted. A soft noise that could only be described as a purr rose up in her as their tongues tangled and he ravenously swallowed the sound, dragging her closer still. Her arms snaked around his neck as her body fit like the perfect glove to his, a delighted shiver running down her spine. When one of his hands began to slip beneath the soft fabric of her t-shirt, she pulled away from him with a slightly bashful expression on her face.

"Good luck." She whispered again, though she was not quite sure he heard her.

His glance seemed fixated on her kiss swollen lips and the colour that had risen in her cheeks. He shook his head quickly, as if to rid himself momentarily of some thought, before smiling lovingly down upon her visage.

"I vill vin the Vorld Cup because of that."

Her sweet laughter rang throughout the room as she hugged him tightly, unable to help herself. Around Viktor, she felt so accepted and free. It was like the past year and a half had never happened. Ron never brought his hand up against her; he had never ruined the memories of the time of her life that was supposed to be the best. He buried his face in the fragrant cloud of her hair before she stepped out of his embrace.

"You should go. I'll see you after the game, okay?"

He nodded and they walked with their fingers tangled together. Upon stepping out of the door, he squeezed her hand before they parted and went their own separate ways. Hermione drifted through the sudden crowds, lost in a haze of delight. She let the mindless group carry her towards the stairs leading to some of the higher seats. A security wizard asked for her ticket and she absently brandished the stiff piece of paper. She moved on after he grunted her in, drifting happily up towards her seat.

She slipped the paper into her pocket before she slipped into her chair, a smile unseen for years lighting up her face. She suddenly felt alive. No longer did the yelling of the countless thousands in the stadium irritate her, but helped her spirit fly. She brushed a finger against her still moderately swollen lower lip and another of those delicious trembles went through her. The very idea that Viktor could feel strongly for her was enough to boost her courage to disobey Ronald. She clasped her hands loosely in her lap as she bit back a girlish, purely feminine giggle of delight.

How could she deny the utter contentment welling up from the very base of her soul when she even thought about the Bulgarian who touched her cheek and looked at her so tenderly? A booming voice jerked her from her musings and she realized with a clench of her heart, that the game was due to start. Instant worry for her precious Bulgarian choked her and, despite her joy, nausea settled in the pit of her stomach.

The announcer belted out the names of the Italian team, she did not pay attention to them in her anxiousness to see Viktor fly across the field. The Italian's mascots, several crooning sirens drifting about their side of the stadium, slowly ceased their enchanting singing as the crowds fell almost silent as the man speaking to all present cleared his throat expectantly. She held her breath in expectation, waiting for a single name to be called.

"…and their Seeker, KRUM!" She rose to her feet like much of those present, screaming her lungs out.

She heard several girls behind her whisper how attractive the Bulgarian Seeker was, especially when he was pulled up on the large magical screen. Sudden, fierce jealousy whipped up inside of her and she bit back the urge to whip around to growl to the girls that Viktor was hers. Her own emotions surprised her and she pressed a hand against her chest, trying to calm that raging torrent. She rapidly forgot about it as she lost herself in the fast paced action of the match, watching in a breathless mix of nerves and excitement.

At one point, he dived sharply towards the earth and plummeted as if he had lost the ability to fly. A true wail of horror erupted from her mouth, the high pitch tone seeming to rise above the gasps of the spectators. Almost as if he heard her, Viktor's head momentarily shot up and his dark eyes searched the faceless masses for someone, before pulling out of the fall. Her pulse did not drop down from a dangerously high rate for some time after that particular terror.

The game was over before it barely started, or so it seemed. Viktor caught sight of a glint of gold and he shot off in the direction of that illusive ball. The Italian Seeker was hot on his tail, though he stopped following when he caught sight of the two dangerous leather Bludgers speeding perpendicular to each other. Viktor, too absorbed in winning, did not see them until they were almost upon him. He apparently lost all ability of rational thought for he flung his broom into overdrive and increased his speed.

People rose to their feet, hollering for the world famous Seeker. Hermione's world narrowed down to a tiny point, the cone centered on the small figure zooming towards something nobody else could see. Just when it seemed like he would be crushed between the two furious balls, he soared upwards, holding his fist victoriously in the air. A bubble of unbelievable elation consumed her and she let out a pleased screech. The noise trailed off when one of the security wizards lightly tapped her shoulder.

"Miss, you are to come with me."

"Why?"

A glint of laughter shone in his eyes. "Your boyfriend asks it. He is the one who made sure you were as close as possible to someone in security."

"Oh…" She shook her head, unable to hid the affection gleaming on her lips. "Lead the way then."

He led her through a secret exit, one reserved for employees and volunteers, the ringing cheer of the crowd following them. "KRUM! KRUM! KRUM!"

The security wizard left her in an empty room that looked remotely like the Gryffindor Common Room, though only in the general layout of the furniture. She stood nervously fidgeting with the hem of the shirt, tugging on a loose thread. The yelling from above had hardly died away when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and she was pulled tightly against a man's chest. The soft smell of soap mixed with a musk she would recognize anyway. She twisted around in Viktor's arms, deep delight sparkling on her face. Instead of kissing him like he so clearly expected, her hand flew up and connected sharply with his cheek. He looked surprised, especially when he saw her suddenly furious expression.

"You almost got yourself killed! I almost had a heart attack!" He seemed ready to apologize, but was abruptly silenced when she smashed her mouth against his.

She could never be truly angry with him and he knew through the fervent desperation in their kiss that she had merely been worried out of her mind. He held her close against him, reveling in the feel of her lithe form pressed against his. It truly was heaven when she was in his arms.

Mhh…The longest one so far, so please tell me what you think!

Blessed Be

Ame