Hey lovelies, I hope you're all having a very happy Saturday. I know it's been a hot minute and I'm sorry I left y'all hanging for so long. My focus hasn't been awesome and it's been a bit hectic around here. Including making the decision to quit the job that I very much loved and figuring out how to catch up on my law school curriculum. I'm still struggling a bit so updates might still be spaced out but it will be updated at least once a month. I really appreciate you being here and hope you enjoy this (slightly longer than usual) chapter!
Love,
Adrien
Disclaimer: I still, sadly, do not own the Potterverse. That belongs to J. K. Rowling. All the new characters you don't recognize though are my brain children and I am very fond of them. :o)
Chapter Nine: 365 Days 365 Ways to Kickass
July
Hermione leans back in her seat, throwing down the (at this point) well-read letter and running both of her hands through her hair as a long suffering sigh escapes her lip.
It would figure that the first time she heard from Professor Snape would be for someone else's benefit with no regard whatsoever for the hell he had to be currently experiencing. That man would probably be on his deathbed before he asked for help for himself. At least this letter showed that he was alive even if he didn't really say anything about himself.
"I take it that that little letter is the reason for today's meeting," Tsveta's slightly amused voice comes from the doorway.
Hermione whips around, quickly rising to her feet to meet not just Bulgaria's Minister of Magic but also Marceau and Nayden.
"Though, I am a bit confused as to what is going on in general," Nayden's warm voice fills the room, naturally louder than the rest of those present in the room from his years on the Quidditch field. Nayden's demeanor often made Hermione wonder if Viktor would be that way in the future. If he would eventually lose his soft spoken nature because he grew so used to projecting across the field.
Marceau throws up a variety of wards that mirror Hermione's regulars with a slightly more dangerous edge before anyone responds to Nayden's statement.
Hermione shoots her mentor a thankful look while Nayden's eyebrows shoot up in a look that is very much like how Marceau's had the first time Hermione had thrown up her own wards for their conversation.
"Both Tsveta and Marceau are completely aware of my story and I know there is much you have assumed based on my being here and Viktor's descriptions but what is going to happen will have an effect on this team. My being here in general, your acceptance of me, will have an effect on this team and I feel like it's only right that you know why. That you get the choice of whether my being here is worth the possible risk it could bring and that you know I will not hold it against you if you no longer want me openly associating with the team outside of my relationship with Viktor," Hermione begins honestly.
Nayden leans back in his seat, concern and surprise twisting together in his features, but he continues to listen. He doesn't cut her off or interrupt in any way, he simply listens with completely open ears which is something Hermione hadn't realized that she truly needed to have this conversation.
Her story is easier to tell this time and she isn't sure if it's because she is disassociating herself from the situation she had been in or if it's because she's coming to terms with the hand she was dealt which honestly worries her. She'd always had a habit of disassociating when her life got too heavy and, despite how unhealthy she knew it was for her (and despite how much she despised the lack of clarity that paired naturally with disassociation), it was an easy thing to fall back into.
She tells Nayden about her boys and the adventures that had nearly slaughtered them year after year. She tells him about the preventable deaths of two people who had always supported her in every endeavor (even when it meant they would be separated from her for more than half the year) and the lies she had uncovered afterward. Finally, she tells him about the plan they had in the makings. The third side they were secretly creating and the sanctuary that Tsveta had offered anyone coming from Britain.
And then she brings up the letter from the first adult that had been on her side. Before she'd had any sort of premonitions of fighting. Before she'd had any plan beyond leaving Headquarters. One of the few people she knew was on her side completely and unconditionally because he shared her reason for being in this fight to begin with: a familial love for their best friends.
And that man had asked her for help saving a boy who Hermione had always believed was smarter than he appeared to be. So Hermione would do her damndest to get the boy to safety.
"You will always be welcome here, Hermione, no matter what trouble comes our way. I can't speak for my boys, though the majority of them already see you as part of our family so they will likely agree with me, but I will stand with you in whatever way you need me to," Nayden states firmly, his hand grasping Hermione's tightly after she brings up her idea of offering Marcus Flint a spot on their team. "If his contract is ending with the Falcons this term, I would be more than happy to offer him the open position on our team. Especially because having him here would be helpful to you both but also because he has certainly begun making a name for himself in this sport during his trial year."
A relieved smile breaks across Hermione's face as she wraps the older man in a tight hug, her "Thank you!" muffled by the older man's shirt.
"Sometimes doing the right thing requires some assistance and I am more than willing to give a helping hand for those who need it," Nayden responds, a smile coloring his tone as he hugs the young woman back.
The rest of their time together is spent answering all of Nayden's questions and creating a timeline to get Marcus Flint here as inconspicuously and safely as possible. It wasn't long before the three older magicals left the room sooner than Hermione had expected, leaving her to send the confirmation letter for Marcus's safe passage to Professor Snape.
Hermione is just pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment paper when a familiar knocking pattern draws her attention back to the door, her friendly smile dropping at the look of concern on her friend's face.
"Why exactly are so many powerful people coming out of a warded room with my favorite British witch?" Alek asks with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised.
August
Hermione leans against the doorframe to her old bedroom, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she watches Viktor softly hum an unfamiliar tune, gently stroking Vyara's hair as she sleeps against his side.
"Why're you looking at me like that?" Viktor asks, his voice a whisper as he attempts to keep the child on his chest asleep, when he finally notices Hermione's presence.
Hermione walks over to the bed, perching herself on the bed beside Viktor.
Viktor immediately wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her closer so that her back leaned against the headboard like his and her side pressed against his.
"You're going to make an amazing father," Hermione finally replies, resting her head on his shoulder.
"You'll make just as amazing of a mother," Viktor states with the kind of certainty that only he had. The kind that made her believe that she was capable of anything because he believed she could.
"We just have to win a war first," Hermione sighs, a longing tugging in her stomach that seemed to grow stronger every moment she was in Vyara's presence.
"We have all the time in the world, Mila," Viktor whispers softly as he presses a kiss to the side of her head and seemingly unconsciously rubs circles on the temporary contraceptive rune Hermione retraced on her hip at the beginning of each month (first to help her with her period and then to prevent her from becoming a parent before she intended to). "We just have a few things to get done first."
"Sometimes I wish we didn't have to think about anyone else," Hermione admits, guilt quickly overwhelming her want for a child for finally stating the thing that had been in the back of her mind since she'd left Britain.
"It's normal to want normalcy. But it says more about your character that you didn't just drop everything the moment you got out," Viktor states in that same certainty that he had used early. The kind that told her that he truly and honestly thought the world of her despite knowing every side of her. The kind that made her believe in a better future.
"Thank you for always being here, despite everything," Hermione murmurs, turning her head to press a kiss to his shoulder as she shuts her eyes.
"Always, Mila," Viktor replies, resting his head on top of hers.
September
Convincing Bill had been easier than any of them thought both when it came to joining their side and when it came to sending Ginny to Bulgaria. When given the option of a third side, Bill jumped on the chance. He could never join the Deatheaters or stand by while they destroyed the country he loved but he had no respect for how they were handling the war now that he was old enough to fight. He was finally seeing first hand how idiocy and incompetence was leading to the loss of life, how the same idiocy and incompetence had likely led to the deaths of his uncles (who had fostered his passion and need for adventure at every turn despite how much his parents tried to smother it). When he was told about what had happened to GInny, he was furious. He didn't need any convincing whatsoever to take her out of that household and taking her out of Britain all together wasn't that much more of a jump. But he had wanted to send her to France. He hadn't wanted her with people he hardly knew, fighting a war when she wasn't even sixteen.
Voicing that last thought, though, earned him a lashing out from both his fiancee and his baby sister (along with a variety of hexes that, in an act of purposeful irony if Hermione knew both women as well as she thought she did, he had taught them both). Hermione understood him wanting to protect Ginny but he didn't understand how personal this was for Ginny.
Yes, Ginny was fighting for her family and friends but more than anything, Ginny was fighting for herself...Voldemort had literally been inside her. He had violated her in such a horrible way that she felt like part of her was broken...like she had lost some part of herself...like his darkness had tainted her, and more than anything, she wanted to take away what he wanted most the way she felt he had taken away the rest of her childhood. Once she had calmed down from her initial rash reaction to attempting to control her, she was able to explain that to him...But he was still reluctant to send her to people he hardly knew. Until Fleur and everyone of his siblings (besides Percy) vouched for Hermione and Fleur alone vouched for Viktor after having gotten so close to him during the TriWizard Tournament.
Once Bill had agreed, it had still taken longer than any of them liked to get Ginny here but she should be here any second now…
"I'm so sorry. I was so horrible to you," are the first words out of Ginny's mouth when she stumbles into view, her milk chocolate gaze connecting instantly with Hermione's whiskey colored eyes.
"I'm sorry. I should have put two and two together. I should have noticed what was going on with you," Hermione apologizes at the same time.
"Can you forgive me?" The question is asked in wobbly unison, the young women's usually strong voices fractured by the pain they'd caused their best friends.
"Of course I can!" Comes the instant reply, in the kind of unison that would make the Weasley twins jealous as the two women meet in the middle, clashing together in an almost violently tight hug.
"I'm so glad you're here," Hermione whispers, holding on to her best (and first) female friend for dear life.
"I want to hear everything," Ginny replies, an undercurrent of excitement lining her voice.
October
Harry and Hermione had shared a bed every Halloween since their first year when Hermione had stumbled down the stairs half asleep because her late night reading had been interrupted by the muffled cries making their way upstairs. Having just cried herself to sleep the night before from a seemingly endless bout of homesickness, she couldn't sit back and let someone cry like that alone...Only, when she got downstairs, she found the boy who had saved her life three hours earlier that day crying his eyes out over the parents he'd never gotten the chance to know.
At the time, she didn't really understand any kind of grief. She hadn't had to experience that yet. So she'd done the only thing she could think to do, the one thing her mum had always done when she didn't know what to say: she hugged Harry with her whole heart.
"I can't lose him too, Mione...He's all I have left of them and...he's the only one here who knows...and understands...Ron and me have what he had with Sirius before everything hit the fan both this time and last..." Harry sobs, his face hidden from view and voice muffled as he clutches the two-way mirror to his chest and buries his face in the blanket Hermione had knitted him for Christmas fourth year after her trial run with the house elf hats.
Hermione was older now, she had that experience now, but there still wasn't anything she could say. Nothing could make this feeling go away...and Hermione was too far away to hold him the way he really needed to be held on a day like today...especially today...the fifteenth anniversary of their deaths, the day her brother had literally lost everything...and the day Dumbledore decided that he should send Remus Lupin back into the dens that had almost cost him his life the last time around.
And Hermione...Hermione couldn't lie and say that everything would be ok because she didn't know if it would. Remus hardly made it last time and last time...and last time the older man had been in a much better mindstate to handle that sort of place.
She didn't know what to do and if there was one thing Hermione truly hated, it was the helpless feeling of not knowing what to do...especially in situations like this where her lack of knowledge left her helpless in comforting her best friend.
Eventually Harry's sobs subsided and his watery gaze claimed Hermione's concerned eyes. "I'm sorry for being like this...I didn't know who else to go to…"
"You've got nothing to be sorry," Hermione's voice is nearly a whisper as she swallows back her own tears. "I just wish there was more I could do. I want so badly to help you but I-I don't know what I can do."
"You being here is enough," Harry replies, touching his side of the mirror.
Hermione touches her in the same place but all she can think about is the fact that she isn't there. She's here. In a place that was beginning to feel more like home than any place Hermione had ever been in before. Thousands of miles away from her home country and the majority of the people who made up her whole world.
A noise comes from Harry's side of the mirror has the teenage boy scrambling to wipe his eyes.
"I've gotta go," he whispers gruffly.
"I love you," Hermione tells her brother in every way that really matters (including magic).
"Always, Mione," Harry replies, a sad smile playing across his face.
The young witch barely has time to close her compact mirror before the first tears fall and the sobs that she had been swallowing wretched their way out of her chest.
She could count on one hand how many times she had cried like this, like she was completely alone in the world and everything was falling apart around her. But she wasn't alone this time. The arms that wrapped around her waist, the chest that pressed into her back, the repeated whispers of love in every language she knew (and some she didn't) assured her of that.
November
"Est-ce que tu vas bien, mon petit chou?" Marceau's voice breaks Hermione away from her nervous tapping.
"Not as well as I would like to be. I am worried," Hermione replies honestly in the same language, turning her body away from her tome-covered desk and toward the older man.
"About?"
"Professor Lupin making it here just in time for the full moon. I'm afraid for him. Shifting for him isn't like it is for you and Alek. It takes a physical toll on him for the days before and the days after that it doesn't for you both. It's almost like he has fought who he is for so long that his body is attempting to reject his being. Being in a new place has to fuck that up even more. Especially considering he left Tonks who was the one person in the world he had left to lean on."
Marceau doesn't even blink when she pointedly states what she had figured out about him. He doesn't attempt to lie or to coverup his lycanthropy. He just nods and leans back in his own seat, a thoughtful look overtaking his face.
"He can run with Alek and I for the night. The presence of other wolves always eases the transformation. But I do think it would be a good idea for me to speak with him when he gets here. Can you arrange that, mon petit chou?"
"I would really appreciate that. But I worry that he won't listen...he's been alone so long," Hermione's voice lowers with her last sentence, speaking more to herself than anyone else.
"All you can do is offer the branch. He has to be the one to take it," Marceau replies gently, patting Hermione's shoulder softly.
Hermione nods, a slow feeling of defeat filling her being. She had no problem getting up on her soapbox and beating the idea that you can't save everyone into her brother's head but when it came to her own heart...She had a hard time accepting the idea that she couldn't save everyone. Especially when it was someone who had been supporting the people she cared about in his own way from the moment he had entered their lives. But logically...logically she knew: she couldn't save everyone.
December
"You've got too many other things on your plate right now to play matchmaker, let it happen how it happens," Viktor whispers in her ear as his arms slip around her waist.
Hermione leans back into his chest and squeezes his arm softly but her eyes never leave the three people in front of her.
Ginny and Vyara are decorating the Christmas tree Viktor and Hermione had decided to put in the library. They'd decided on two to follow Viktor's family tradition: one for their fancy ornaments and company downstairs and one for fun upstairs. The couple had decided to invite Alek and Vyara over to help themselves and Ginny decorate. After all, little ones always brought a special energy to every holiday.
And Vyara was having a ball with Ginny continually lifting and spinning the little girl around, making quidditch-esqu commentary for every new bobble as the little girl chose a new place to put each piece on the tree.
What had really caught Hermione's attention though was the way Alek's eyes never left her redheaded best friend. How he'd stabbed his finger more than once as he missed the piece of popcorn he was attempting to thread together (a very muggle tradition that Hermione had brought up to the pureblooded wizards with a faraway look on her face-she'd never see her dad cursing under his breath from yet another broken popcorn piece ever again-that had every magical jumping at the idea if only to make her first holiday without her parents great). How his voice softened every time he addressed Ginny, shooting gently probing questions her way every chance he got. How he wasn't alone in his distraction. Because Ginny's eyes continually flickered toward him, a light blush coloring her cheeks every time their gazes connect.
More than anything, Hermione wanted her two friends to be happy. They weren't unhappy alone. Alek loved living in the moment, he adored every second he got to spend with his little girl, and he found genuine satisfaction every day he got to spend on the field. And Ginny...Ginny had grown so much in the last year that Hermione that Hermione couldn't help but sit back and bask in the amazing human being that her best female friend was becoming. She could have let Voldemort and her mother's mettling crush her completely. No one would have thought badly of her if either of those things alone had harmed her growth. But Ginny had grabbed her life with both hands and pushed herself to do her best for herself. In Quidditch, in friendship, in classes. When she wanted something, she went after it. She didn't hold back because she didn't want to regret losing her chance. But they were both lonely. They both loved their lives and their friends but they wanted someone to spend the rest of their lives with. To build their futures and their families with.
January
"Letter from home?" a gruff voice floats her way from the door jam.
Hermione's head shoots up from the letter on the desk in front of her, her fingers freezing where they were running through her hair.
"Sorry," Marcus Flint apologies immediately and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to startle you. The door was open and I wasn't sure how to get your attention."
"It's ok," Hermione replies, giving the older boy a tired smile. "I was just stuck in my own head."
Marcus slowly enters the room, shutting the door behind him and making his way to the chair at the side of her desk that Marceau had brought in after the fourth time he had walked in on someone leaning against her desk as the two of them talked because the only other place to sit in their office beside Marceau's own desk (which none of the younger magicals felt comfortable sitting at without the older man's permission).
"Anything you want to walk through?" Marcus asks, genuine desire to help coloring his tone. "Sometimes it helps talking your thoughts out loud."
Hermione leans back in her seat, watching the older boy in front of her. He really wasn't what she had expected. He was kind and soft spoken. She could count on one hand the number of conversations they'd had since he'd gotten here on one hand but he often came to sit with her while she worked. Sometimes he would bring them both a snack and sometimes he would bring his new playbook to work on memorizing the plays but other times...he would just sit with his head leaned back against the wall and his eyes shut. Like he just needed a moment to himself and she was the closest thing to home he could get in this new place.
She had originally decided to help him as a favor to the man who had done so much for her but he had become a quiet constant in her life and, if she were being honest, she had begun considering him a friend a few months back. Which is something her second year self would have never seen coming.
"It's an update from Professor Snape," Hermione eventually breathes, opening the letter for the upteenth time and handing it to Marcus.
Marcus gently takes the letter from her grasp, his eyes flickering over the older man's familiar script as quickly as he can.
Hermione was grateful that Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy (who's involvement had been another massive surprise when she'd read Professor Snape's first letter about the boy but Professor Snape had promised to explain when they were able to meet in person again and Hermione trusted him) had been able to create the new hidden pockets that easily inserted into both her and Professor Snape's potions bags and worked as smaller sorts of mini-vanishing cabinets so that the two of them could easily exchange messages. The pocket in Hermione's bag was keyed into her blood and the pocket in Professor Snape's bag was keyed into his so that only the two of them could access anything inside. Since they had inserted the pockets into their bags, they had been sending updates at least once a week...but this one...it worried her.
A sharp intake of breath brings Hermione back out of her own thoughts, drawing her attention once again to the Slytherin beside her.
"Did you know she was going to do it?" Marcus's voice comes out so quietly and his familiar gravelly tone so thick that Hermione almost doesn't hear him.
Hermione shakes her head, tears blurring the edges of her vision as her gaze connects with Marcus.
Worry and something Hermione can't identify war in Marcus's eyes as his eyes search Hermione's. "But you're not surprised she did it," he eventually states, his eyebrow cocking up slightly in query.
"I'm not," Hermione sighs softly. "Tonks is loyal above all else. When she loves, she throws herself into it entirely. She gives more chances than she probably should and she does everything in her power to protect them...We have a major hole in our side right now in our lack of support from those on the dark side. Tonks saw that and Tonks saw that she could fill that. So as scared as I am for my friend, I am not surprised that she chose to help fill the hole for the side that is doing everything it can to protect the people she cares about most."
"But pretending to renounce her muggle heritage. To pretend to go against her own nature...to pretend to turn her back on her family and embrace the supposed purity of her blood...won't that...won't that break her?"
"I hope not...The Malfoys have vouched for her and taken her under their wing because they, and the Lestranges, are the last connections to the Black line and she has the quiet support of Professor Snape...But it's a risk. It's going to hurt her in ways that I don't think she wants to think about...in ways that none of us can even really recognize right now...But it is her choice. All I can do is hope that her hardheadedness will get her through this."
Marcus slowly nods once Hermione has finished her speech, the unidentifiable emotion hardening in his eyes as he gives the younger with a grim smile.
February
"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, Mila?" Viktor queries as the two magicals rotate slowly on the beachside bar's makeshift dance floor.
They were in Romania for Valentine's Day. Viktor had surprised her earlier that day, literally whisking her away as he wrapped his arms around her and activated a portkey at the end of their work day.
She hadn't been familiar with where they had landed but Viktor had explained that they were going to be in Romania for a few days both to collect some rare potions ingredients that grew on the Romanian Coast (which he thought may be helpful to Hermione's attempts at potions experimentations) and to spend some time alone together because they hadn't really been alone together since before Ginny had moved in with them and they both needed a break from all the wartime preparations.
When she'd asked about clothes and luggage, Viktor had shown her the shrunken bags Winky had smuggled into Hermione's ever present expandable satchel.
All Hermione had been able to do was smile and shake her head because Viktor really did think of everything when it came to taking care of her...Especially when it came to keeping her from overworking herself. Which was ironic because their relationship had really bloomed fourth year when she had kept him from overworking himself during the tournament.
"Only about a million times, love," Hermione laughs, smiling into his shoulder.
"Well, you look gorgeous tonight," he chuckles, kissing the top of her head.
"You look just as handsome," she replies, kissing his shoulder.
Viktor hums noncommonically and Hermione rolls her eyes, shaking her head softly. For as many compliments as that man gave her, he never could take one himself. But that didn't stop her from giving them to him.
"Hermione?" A vaguely familiar voice calls from her right, drawing both magicals' attention to a quickly approaching figure.
Both Viktor and Hermione's hands hover over their still hidden wands as they pull just enough apart to be able to move quickly if necessary before Hermione freezes, her head cocking to the side because this is someone she recognizes. He isn't likely to be a threat but he also isn't exactly a friend...at least not yet.
"Hi, Charlie."
March
The clattering of her mirror on the bedside table pulls Hermione away from a, for once, pleasant dream. A soft groan falls from her lips without consent as she rolls away from Viktor, snatches the mirror from the table, scoops Viktor's jersey from floor, and slips the fabric over her head as she pads out the door as quietly as she can.
As soon as the door closes, her mirror is opened.
"What's going on?" Hermione whispers urgently as she makes her way to the library.
"Is this how you're going to greet me every time I call you? Because it really isn't all that friendly." Harry's voice is tired but there is a levity to his tone that hasn't been there for a long time.
"I'm sorry. Would you like me to start over?" Hermione drawls, her tone dripping with enough sarcasm to make even Professor Snape proud, as a tired smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "Hi, Harry. It's so good to hear from you. May I ask why you called me in the middle of the night, drawing me out of my nice, warm bed?"
Harry snorts, his eyes sparkling with silent laughter. "Much better… And for once, I'm actually calling you with good news. I figure it's just something you might want to think about before our call tomorrow afternoon."
Hermione's eyebrows shoot up but she doesn't say anything in response as she quickly slips into the library and sits on the loveseat near the fire. Honestly, she was debating changing his moniker to the-boy-who-lived-to-dramatically-draw-shit-out. He'd always been a cheeky fucker but his antics had escalated since he and Ron had gotten together. At least they had with her, she had no idea about how he acted around people that didn't know him these days.
"When Ron snuck out for his induction into the Order tonight, Neville came up to me," Harry tells Hermione. "He really is more observant than anyone gives him credit for. He caught us sneaking out that first year, he snuck out with us last year, and this year...he's been keeping tabs on Ron and I. At first he thought it was just us hiding our relationship, which he completely understood considering the current climate in our world and he wanted it to be our choice to open up when we were ready, but then he started noticing some of our other ticks and he figured out that we were up to something. That we were in contact with you and...in his words...he wants to be a part of whatever the hell we're starting because following air-headed old fools had cost him a childhood with his parents to first go around and the three of us had never let him down."
Hermione lets out a low whistle, leaning back in her seat.
The boys had been keeping tabs on students this year but they hadn't planned to ask any actual students to join their side until the end of the school year. Things had a habit of coming out at Hogwarts and this third side they were creating needed to stay underwraps until it was time to make their debut. But they couldn't ignore this...and if there was anything Hermione Granger knew about Neville Longbottom, it was that she could trust that boy with her life.
April
"This was a major risk," Professor Snape growls, his robes whipping around him dramatically as he enters the clearing.
"If it could save your life later, I honestly don't care," Hermione snaps back, the ferocity of her tone matching that of the older man's, before she takes a deep breath and forces herself to soften her tone. "Intent matters. For this to have its best chance, both Marceau and I agree that the blood needs to be given freely by the person the portkey is keyed to and that the person taking the blood has to do so with the sole purpose of protecting the person whose blood they are taking."
"It's a major risk for something that is in no way a necessity," the older man replies, his voice softening as much as his voice ever did.
"I'd rather risk getting caught now and create something you never end up using than risk you losing your life later because you have no way of escaping. Whether it's because of a lack of a wand or magical depletion. This portkey could save your life and I will do everything I can to make sure you get out of this alive, end of story," Hermione states with an air of finality.
Professor Snape huffs but his eyes soften even further at her words, a flash of recognition flaring through his dark gaze, as he pushes up his sleeve on his right arm.
"Besides," Hermione continues as she busies herself with drawing the older man's blood. "Both Voldemort and Dumbledore think you are in Romania picking up potions ingredients that Charlie has smuggled out of the sanctuary. They have no idea that Charlie has joined a third side. They have no idea that a third side even exists yet. We've been careful about that."
"But both sides are tracking you, Hermione, and you haven't exactly been keeping a low profile."
"But every article posted about me has shown me in Bulgaria. Apprenticing with a potions master who is based with the best ranking Bulgarian quidditch team. A team that has always kept their training underwraps and won't be traveling for a match for at least another month. Why would anyone expect me to be anywhere but Bulgaria right now?"
Professor Snape's right eyes cocks up, a smirk tugging at his lips as he drawls, "From blackmailing bugs in a jar to using the media to your actual advantage. That's quite the learning curve."
"I've been told on more than one occasion that I have a scarily steep learning curve especially when I have the support of people who are extremely familiar with molding the media to their advantage, like my quidditch family and a magical politician."
May
A throat clearing makes the three werewolves and Hermione's heads snap toward the library's entryway.
"Winky says if you four don't sit down for at least one meal today, she will make it so that none of you are allowed in a room alone together for at least a week and I have to say that I agree with her," Viktor states, glancing pointedly at the barely touched sandwiches still sitting on each of their plates from lunch time.
"Vyara and I are on their side as well so the eight of us are evenly tied opinion wise," Ginny adds, her Bulgarian slightly stilted but much more discernible than it had been when she began learning the language, as she leans against the door jam opposite of Viktor with the toddler on her hip.
Hermione glances at the three men around her, each of which look just as harried as she felt. She hadn't realized it was that late and they hadn't either based on their varying expressions of disbelief. Werewolves were known to have more strength and stamina than average humans especially near the full moon so they'd been looking into using werewolf hair to create a sort strengthening-pepperup potion hybrid for those on their side. They were, however, running into an issue of lack of information when it came to the effects of using werewolf hair from those who accepted their nature versus those who fought their nature.
June
"You've got this," Viktor whispers in her ear, his left hand rubbing soothing circles on the small of her back as they pause outside the door to Tvesta's office. The original plan had been to finalize the plan to save Harry come his birthday and to finally introduce Viktor to the Minister of Magic that had been so helpful to Hermione through this entire process but the call she had gotten the night before changed everything.
Hermione gives Viktor a tight smile before pecking him softly on the lips and pushing open the door.
The cheery array of voices that greet them as they come through makes Hermione realize that they are the last to arrive.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet the man who made it possible for me to meet this amazing witch," Tvesta approaches Viktor, her hand outstretched.
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Minister," Viktor replies, clasping her hand in a quick handshake.
"Tvesta, please," the older woman suggests with an easy smile.
"Viktor." The younger wizard gives Tvesta a smile that anyone else would see as easy but Hermione can see the tension in his stance and the fact that it doesn't meet his eyes.
"Is everything alright, mon petit chou?" Marceau voices, bringing all attention to Hermione as everyone begins settling around the table.
Viktor's hand on Hermione's back is the only thing keeping Hermione steady, just as his arms had been the only thing holding her together when she got the news late last night, as she takes a deep breath.
"Albus Dumbledore is dead...We knew he was dying from an unknown curse and that he had asked Severus Snape to kill him in place of the young boy who Voldemort assigned to kill him. Professor Snape did exactly as he asked, gaining even more trust from Voldemort and ensuring that someone will be there to protect the students next school year even if it means he lost his in with The Order. This is all what we planned for even though we didn't know when it would occur...But...but before Dumbledore died, he revealed to both Harry Potter and Professor Snape that Voldemort has created multiple horcruxes. We don't know how many as of this point in time but we do know that two have been destroyed, an heirloom ring from the wizarding side of Voldemort's family destroyed by Dumbledore and a journal destroyed by Harry in his second year...we know from Harry that a third lies in the locket of Slytherin that was stolen by someone with the initials R.A.B...and we know from Professor Snape…" Hermione switches from Bulgarian to English as the words get caught in her throat and her tears finally overwhelm her vision. "...we know from Professor Snape that...that Harry...that there is a horcrux currently living in Harry."
Hermione's words are met with tense silence as tears stream down the younger woman's face.
Harry had been her entire world since she was eleven years old. He was her brother in every way that truly mattered and she would do anything to make sure he survived. She'd always done everything she could to give him his best chance...but for once...Hermione wasn't sure that was enough...
July
"Marry me?" Viktor's voice cuts through the jumbled muttering currently escaping Hermione's lips as she triple checks her dragonhide bag, making the curly-haired witch freeze almost comically.
"What?" The word comes out in a breathless woosh as Hermione slowly turns the entirety of her attention to the man behind her...the man who was now kneeling on the library floor, an unfamiliar ring pinched carefully in between his fingers.
"Marry me? So we have something to look forward to after all of this," Viktor repeats and elaborates with such certainty that Hermione couldn't doubt his stance even if she wanted to.
The proposal wasn't flowery. It wasn't long and drawn out. And, if Hermione was being honest, it didn't need to be. She had spent every day she'd known him finding new ways to fall in love with this man. He understood her in a way that no one before him ever had. He knew exactly when she needed speeches and exactly when a short sentence was more than enough. His every action showed her what she meant to him. It was the little things he did that showed her that she was his everything. And Hermione...Hermione loved him more than anything.
Which is why the only answer she could have ever given him was:
"Yes!"