Consequences
Viktor stayed with Hermione for the rest of the week, which was filled with long silences. They continued to share a bed without touching. Hermione had trouble sleeping, and when she did manage to drop off, she had disturbing dreams. Each day she planned to get something accomplished on the house but often found herself randomly staring out the window at the typical London winter gloom. She often caught Viktor doing the same. She wondered what he was thinking but didn't ask him. Her own thoughts were a jumble of what happened in Amsterdam and what she could have done to avoid it. The list seemed endless as did her self-recrimination. Sometimes, she would just start crying. She thought a lot about smoking with Todor and how nice it would be to reach for some of that oblivion, but heroin wasn't the answer. She knew that, and hated that she even considered it, but it sat like an uncomfortable and persistent itch at the back of her mind. She found wine to be a useful balm for that itch.
On Friday morning, when Hermione got up, Viktor was making breakfast in the kitchen. When she walked in, he was plating eggs and bacon. He'd made coffee and she poured herself a cup instead of bothering with tea. He handed her a plate and they sat down. "I need to finish furnishing my flat," he said.
She looked at him.
"Could you help me with that today?"
She nodded, the prospect of finally leaving the house lifted her spirits. "Of course."
xXx
After breakfast, she took a shower. As she sat at her dressing table to do her hair, Viktor came to stand behind her. "Would you consider doing it like it was done for the ball?"
She looked at him through the mirror. "That's a little elaborate for furniture shopping, don't you think?"
He shrugged. "If it is too much trouble, do not worry about it."
"I'll see what I can do." In the end, she just cast a spell to straighten it and used a bit of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to keep it that way. When she came downstairs, he was pulling on his boots. He looked up at her and smiled. "I like it."
She chuckled. "All right then. Are you ready?"
He stood. "Yes."
They Apparated to Diagon Alley and went to the furniture shop. They managed almost a half an hour of shopping before any photographers showed up. After a few more minutes, Viktor settled on a deep green velvet sofa, two dark purple velvet chairs with matching ottomans, and a copper-topped coffee table for his parlor along with a simple cottage style oak table and chairs for his kitchen. As he paid at the till, Hermione leaned against the counter and let the photographers take their photos. She felt oddly bold. Perhaps, it was the new hairdo or maybe it was the overwhelming sense of nothing left to lose.
Heads held high, she and Viktor went past the photographers to the street where they Apparated to his building. The furniture would be delivered in a few hours, so it was just a matter of waiting. As they stepped into his flat, Viktor took her coat along with his own and put them on hooks by the door. She went into the parlor and stared out of the balcony doors at the street below. No photographers yet. It was starting to rain pretty hard though, so they probably wouldn't bother. Viktor came to stand behind her. He didn't touch her, but she could feel his presence. "Hermione," he said softly. "Can I…? I would like to…" He blew out a nervous breath. "I have missed…"
She turned and kissed him, at first gently and then with more ardor. When he finally pulled back from the kiss, she took his hand and led him to the bedroom. She had missed touching him too. All week, she'd felt sick and dirty, undesirable, but she hadn't felt that way about him. As he gave her hand a happy squeeze, she wondered if he'd felt that way about himself.
xXx
Someone pounding on the front door woke them both from a sound sleep late that afternoon. Having not slept well since they'd returned from Amsterdam, it irritated her to be woken.
Viktor cursed and rolled out of bed, reaching for his trousers. "The furniture is here."
"Oh!" Hermione sat up and reached for her own clothes.
Viktor was buttoning his shirt as he headed out of the room, closing the door behind him. Hermione quickly finished getting dressed, cast a cleaning charm on herself, and waited for the movers to leave before she went into the parlor.
Viktor was looking at the room arrangement. "What do you think?"
"It looks great."
"I still need to do the other spare room, but I think that can wait."
"Yes," she agreed. "This is all you really need."
He sat on the sofa and held out a hand to her. "Come sit."
She sat next to him and he turned to face her. Taking her hands in his, he said, "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"Taking you to Amsterdam. I did not anticipate—"
She squeezed his hands. "Of course, you didn't. That wasn't your fault."
He shook his head. "It was my responsibility. I should have confirmed that Todor was clean before I agreed to see him. Heroin is a terrible master. He has been fighting it for years. I wanted to believe he had finally beaten it."
Hermione stroked his cheek. She could easily see how heroin was so addictive. "Don't be too hard on him. He offered, but I accepted. I didn't ask what it was and that's my fault. I have my own culpability, but some of it wasn't my fault or yours. Did you know there was hash in the brownies the first night?"
Viktor's eyes widened. "No. They did not say."
"I didn't know either until Boyka told me the next day. I had two. It made for a very weird night."
"You did not tell me."
She sighed. "No, because I knew it would upset you, but in hindsight, if I had told you—"
"We would have left the next morning," he said firmly.
"Yes," Hermione said sadly. "I regret so much not telling you. Everything could have been avoided if I'd just said something. Or if I'd gone upstairs with you after you got back from training. There are so many things I wish I'd done differently."
He put his arm around her and she pressed her face against his chest as he held her tight. "It is okay. There is plenty of regret and blame to go around. Do not worry. We will be fine."
She snuggled closer to him. All week she'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to tell her he was leaving and not coming back, but instead, he'd said they'd be fine, and for the first time all week, she felt like that might be true.
xXx
The next day, Hermione popped back to her own place to pick up her mail and change her clothes and pick up a few things to leave at Viktor's. He'd offered her a couple of drawers and a shelf in the bathroom. She'd accepted. She flipped through the mail quickly until she came upon a letter from the ministry. She dropped the rest of the mail and held up the letter. She blew out a nervous breath and opened the envelope. In a minute, she would be an Unspeakable, or she'd have to start looking for another job.
She was an Unspeakable. She squealed with delight and immediately thought to send letters to Ron and Harry. She'd actually picked up a quill before she remembered that they no longer cared what she was doing. She put down the quill. She looked around at the kitchen of her childhood home, which belonged to her now. That was her new normal. There would be no celebratory dinner at the Burrow. She closed her eyes to compose herself. Ron told her to leave, and she hadn't fought it, because she thought it was the best thing to do for both of them. She'd known at the time that it would be hard, but she hadn't realized it would be as hard as it was. She hadn't considered that walking away from Ron meant walking away from her whole life. She pushed a tear off her cheek and went upstairs to collect her things. At least Viktor would care.
He was delighted with the news when she arrived back at his place. He gave her a big hug. "We should celebrate. I have just gotten an invitation to have dinner with my team captain but I can cancel if you would rather go to a nice restaurant. What do you want to do?"
Hermione's first impulse was to say no to both. She wasn't in the mood for the public spectacle that dinner out would be. She wasn't sure she was up for dinner with someone she didn't know either, but it was clear Viktor wanted to go. "We should go to dinner at your team captain's place. That doesn't sound like the sort of thing you should turn down."
He smiled and slid his hands around her waist, "What could we do to celebrate before then?"
She smiled back at him.
He kissed her passionately. "I am thinking I have a good idea."
She chuckled as he took her hand and led her into the bedroom.
xXx
The team captain for Puddlemere United only lived a few blocks from Viktor in Diagon Alley. As they took the tiny elevator up to the flat, it occurred to Hermione that Viktor hadn't told her the captain's name.
"Viktor?" she said, as the elevator door opened. She followed him out.
"Ah," Viktor said. "Apartment 1. We are here." He knocked on the door.
Oliver Wood opened it. "Viktor," he said, thrusting out his hand. "Glad you could make it." Hermione stepped from behind Viktor and Oliver's mouth dropped open. "My goodness, Hermione?"
She smiled. "Hullo, Oliver."
"Oh," Viktor said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "You two know each other?"
"We were both in Gryffindor House at Hogwarts. He graduated at the end of my third year," Hermione explained.
"Right," Oliver said. "Well, come in you two." He gave Hermione a confused look as she stepped into the flat. "Let me get your coats." He hung them on pegs by the door.
Viktor handed him a bottle of vodka that he'd brought.
"Thanks. Why don't you two have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? Wine, whiskey, beer, pumpkin juice?" He held up the vodka bottle. "Or some of this."
"Wine would be great," Hermione said.
"For me too," Viktor said.
"Red okay?" Oliver asked.
They both nodded before taking a seat on the sofa. It was a large flat, and nicely furnished with an emphasis on Oliver's Scottish roots. There were framed maps of Scotland and the Outer Hebrides on the walls of the parlor. The sofa and two wing chairs were upholstered in a muted black watch plaid.
Oliver stepped out of the kitchen and handed them each a glass of wine before taking a seat in one of the chairs. "Thanks so much for joining me for dinner."
"Thank you for the invitation," Viktor said. He was sitting very straight and Hermione was amused to realize he was nervous.
"I thought it would be nice to get to know you a bit before training starts next week." He looked at Hermione. "I didn't realize you two were together."
She smiled at him. "Not one for reading the paper then, Oliver?"
"Only the sports section."
Viktor took Hermione's hand. "We dated when I was at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament. Then we ran into each other Christmas Eve and—"
"Picked up where we left off," Hermione finished for him.
Viktor smiled at her. "Yes."
"Well, that's great," Oliver said, but his expression had less enthusiasm than his words.
"Did you two know each other well in school?" Viktor asked, clearly trying to suss out the reason for Oliver's strange expression.
"Not really," Oliver said. "Her friend Harry was the Seeker for our house team."
"Ah, yes," Viktor said. "Harry Potter. He was a Triwizard Champion too. I liked him."
"Well, everyone does, don't they?" Oliver said. He looked at Hermione. "I mean Harry, you, and Ron saved the world, right? You're a bona fide war hero."
Hermione could feel herself blush. "I don't feel much like a hero."
"But you are one," Oliver said. "I feel like I should've had Pippa make a fancier dinner."
"Pippa?" Hermione asked.
"My family's house elf," Oliver said. "She was nice enough to come down and make dinner for tonight. Generally, she's at my parent's place in Edinburgh."
"Oh," Hermione said.
"Listen is it true that at the battle of—"
"Oliver," Hermione leaned forward and touched his arm. "I don't mean to be rude, but I don't like to talk about the war."
"Oh," Oliver said. "Oh, of course. Sure. I understand."
"Where's your loo?" Hermione asked.
"Just down the hall on the right," Oliver said.
She stood and went down the hall, forcing herself to walk at a normal pace when all she wanted to do was run. What she really wanted to do was leave, but she couldn't do that either. Oliver was just curious. Everyone was, but she didn't want to talk about the war and even more than that, she didn't want to talk about Ron and Harry. It was too painful. On the other hand, she was Viktor's girlfriend now. He was new to the country, new to the team, and he needed her support. She looked in the bathroom mirror and blew out a slow, calming breath. She could do this. It was just dinner. When she returned to the parlor, Viktor and Oliver were deep in conversation about Quidditch. She smiled at the animation in their faces and took her seat next to Viktor.
Dinner was delicious, although Oliver commented again that he wished he'd known Hermione was coming. Apparently, Viktor had only mentioned that he was bringing his girlfriend but hadn't mentioned her by name.
"You can't just say you're bringing your girlfriend when you're bringing Hermione Granger," Oliver scolded Viktor. "If you're bringing a bloody national treasure, people like to be warned, don't they?"
Hermione blushed and Viktor chuckled and squeezed her hand under the table. "I will not make this mistake again."
Despite Oliver's insistence that dinner wasn't appropriate, Hermione thought the cock-a-leekie soup and tattie scones were delicious. "Pippa is an excellent cook," she told Oliver.
"I'll tell her you said so," he replied. "She's already popped back home. I know she doesn't approve of me living in the flat. She thinks I should live at home until I get married. But who wants to Apparate from Edinburgh to Dorset every day. Can you imagine how tired I'd be after a couple of days of that?"
Hermione nodded. "That does sound a bit extreme, but I don't think Apparition is as taxing for elves."
"No," Viktor said. "It does not seem to be."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I didn't realize your family had a house elf."
"They do not anymore," Viktor said darkly.
"Well," Oliver said. "It's taxing for me and popping from here to Dorset is enough."
"Excuse me," Viktor said. He stood and walked down the hall toward the loo.
Hermione helped Oliver take the bowls and plates into the kitchen. He set his in the sink and turned to take the ones she was holding. "I thought you were with Ron," he said quietly.
She shook her head. "Not since before Christmas."
"I don't understand. What happened?" Oliver asked.
She closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry. She looked at him. "The war left us in pieces. We just couldn't make it work." That seemed like as good an explanation as any and at least it was succinct.
He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that. Viktor seems like a good guy though."
Hermione smiled. "He is."
Oliver smiled back at her. "Good. You deserve to be happy. Dessert?"
"Always."
Oliver got two glass bowls out of the icebox. Hermione got the third and they headed back into the parlor as Viktor was coming back in from the hall.
"Tipsy laird?" Oliver said, holding up one of the dessert dishes.
"Sure," Viktor said. "What is it?"
"It looks like trifle," Hermione said.
"Basically," Oliver said. "It's the Scottish version. We used to have the English version at school, but it's not the same without the cherries and Drambuie."
"Drambuie?" Viktor said.
"A fine Scottish liqueur," Oliver said. "You'll love it. Everyone does."
Viktor looked at Hermione for confirmation. "He's right," she said. "Drambuie is delicious."
"See," Oliver said, handing Viktor a bowl. They ate dessert and talked about anything and everything. After they finished eating, they sat in the parlor in front of the fire and continued their conversation over brandy. Both Oliver and Viktor had grown up in magical homes, so they were both curious about what they saw as Hermione's exotic upbringing. She laughed at some of their questions. She and Viktor hadn't talked much about their childhoods. She knew from their trip to Bulgaria to get his things that life with his parents had been a challenge, but she hadn't shared much about her own family. It was still painful to talk about them, but whether it was the alcohol or the company, it was easier to talk that night. She and Viktor finally walked back to his flat after midnight.
xXx
She took his arm as they walked through the night. She was feeling the effects of all the drinking and didn't feel too steady on her feet.
Viktor smiled as he put his hand over hers on his arm. "I think you are the only witch I have ever dated who was more famous than me."
Hermione snorted. "Oh, please. Catch a few snitches and you'll be right back in the limelight."
He chuckled. "That is not what I meant. It is nice to be with someone who understands the notoriety in their own right, not just because of being with me."
She nodded. "I understand it all right."
"Why do you hate it so much?"
She sighed. "It's not like it is with you. When people see you, they get excited, because you remind them of something good. They saw you play and going to the match was a big deal. They probably went with friends or family and had a great day. Or maybe they wish they could fly like you do. You're very impressive on a broom."
He looked at her and frowned. "You have seen me play?"
She cleared her throat and could feel herself blush. "Yes."
"When?"
"I saw you at the World Cup. A friend had tickets."
"You never said when we were in school!"
"I didn't want you thinking I was some Quidditch fangirl. That's not why I liked you."
He stopped and pulled her to him. "Oh, and why did you like me?"
Her face got hotter. "You were serious and a reader. I liked that you hung out in the library like I did. You're smart. That's very appealing."
"Yes. I was also an older man from an exotic country, and I have a sexy accent." He winked at her.
She laughed. "All true."
He smiled and they continued walking. As they approached his building he said, "So what do you imagine people think when they see you?"
She'd hoped they were done with this conversation. He held open the door to his building and she walked in. "It's different with me. Since the breakup with Ron, I get a lot of dirty looks. Even before that though, I was associated with the war. Those weren't happy days."
"You were essential in bringing about the end of the war. Those were happy days."
She nodded as she pushed the elevator call button. "Maybe for other people."
Viktor arched an eyebrow at her. "You didn't want the war to end?"
"Of course, I did. I just wasn't prepared for what it would cost me." The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside. "I lost everything that mattered," she said softly.
Viktor took her in his arms and held her tight. "I know. Me too, but we will rebuild. We have jobs now and each other. We will make new friends, build a new life. People will stop caring that you and Ron are not together. You will see. It will be fine."
She nodded against his chest and hoped he was right.
The elevator doors opened and they went into his flat. As Hermione was removing her heels, she said, "Listen, I'm sorry about earlier."
"About what?" Viktor said, as he took off his jacket.
"Asking about the elf. It seemed to upset you."
He hung up his jacket and sat down on the sofa. "It is alright. I told you my father gambles."
"Yes," Hermione said, sitting next to him.
"At one point, he was a very successful Beater with the Vrasta Vultures as well as on the national team. We lived in a big house and had an elf and many nice things, but eventually he gambled it all away. I was very upset about Mila. We were close. She basically raised me."
She bit back a comment about the horror of gambling away a house elf like it was furniture.
"I bought the house they live in now and provide them with a monthly income. As I told you before, my father resents this."
"I'm sorry."
Viktor shrugged. "I used to have a large flat in the city that I shared with Nikolina, but I sold it after the war. Too many memories. Although, moving in with my parents was stupid. Not good for any of us." He took her hand. "You were close with your parents, yes?"
She nodded. "They were always very supportive. Frightened for me sometimes, but they understood why I was doing what I was doing."
He touched her cheek. "They must have been very proud."
Her smiled saddened. "Yeah." She stood. "I'm going to get changed."
xXx
On Monday Morning, Viktor left for training and Hermione left for the Ministry of Magic. She was paired with Thomas Greene and he spent the week initiating her into life in the Department of Mysteries. She was allowed to tell any adult she trusted what she did for a living, but she wasn't allowed to mention anyone she worked with. If asked by others what she did for a living she could say 'research and development' at the Ministry. That wasn't really a lie since most of what the Department of Mysteries did fell into research and development, it just happened to be in very powerful magic that was denied to the actual Department of Research and Development. Thomas gave her a thorough overview of all the current projects in place including his own. She was expected to come up with her own project by the end of the first month. He also showed Hermione to her rooms. Each of the Unspeakables had their own office which included a small bedroom with a single bed and a tiny lavatory with a toilet, sink, and shower. Some projects, Thomas explained, required continuous oversight. He told her that Unspeakables set their own schedules, often worked long hours, and then when a project was completed, or a phase of it was completed, they took time off to recharge and come back with new ideas. Hermione thought that sounded like the perfect way to work.
When she explained it all to Viktor he seemed less enthusiastic about the hours. "Do you really want to sleep at work?"
"It's not like it will be every night. Besides isn't that what you do when you have a string of away games?"
He sighed. "I suppose. Speaking of games, our first match is on Saturday in Wales against the Caerphilly Catapults. Will you come?"
She kissed him. "Of course."
xXx
Hermione was tired Saturday morning when she took a Portkey to Wales. She'd had a long week of twelve-hour days in the Department of Mysteries trying to familiarize herself with all the current projects and racking her brain trying to think of a project of her own. The other Unspeakables were brilliant, innovative, eccentric, and creative. Just being around them made her feel dull, staid, plain, and boring. Thomas had told her everyone felt that way at first and that she just had to get comfortable in freeing her mind to be open to all the possibilities in the magic around her. He'd asked her when she had performed her most creative moments of magic and she realized it had usually happened when her life was threatened, but that didn't seem like a reasonable course of action for moving forward, so she'd spent most of the week trying to open up, which hadn't been easy. Viktor would have a few days off after the game, so she thought she'd discuss it with him.
She was seated with friends and family of the Quidditch team in great seats. She was right on the rail where she could see all of the action. It occurred to her that Harry, Ron, and Ginny would love these seats, but then Viktor flew out with the rest of Puddlemere United and thoughts of her old life slipped away.
The game was tense. Puddlemere United were down by seventy points when Viktor caught sight of the Snitch. The Caerphilly Catapults' Seeker saw it too and the chase to catch it while the Beaters tried to stop them was harrowing. Hermione was on her feet screaming with the rest of the fans. When Viktor's fingers closed over the Snitch as he pulled up and barrel rolled to avoid a Bludger, Hermione's arms shot into the air. The announcer called the game for Puddlemere United and a third of the stadium went wild, while the rest groaned. Viktor flew a victory lap around the stadium, caught sight of Hermione, and flew in close to her, leaned over his broom and gave her a big kiss. Even with her eyes closed she could see all the camera flashes going off. Oh well, she thought, in for a penny... When they parted, he gave her a big grin and winked at her before he flew off to rejoin the rest of the team.
Hermione followed the others down to where they would wait for the team to come out of the locker room. As they stood around chatting, Hermione realized that she was experiencing regular adult life. People who weren't pressured to save the world stood around chatting while they waited for their loved ones and then they went out to dinner or perhaps to a party. She smiled. Regular life wasn't so bad.
Most of the team went out to dinner together, some of the couples with children declined, but everyone else was soon piled around a long table in a private room at an inn on the street in Cardiff that corresponded to Diagon Alley in London. Toward the end of dinner, the coach announced that there would be a party at her place.
xXx
After a week of long hours and stress over measuring up at work, Hermione had a strong desire to forget about work and relax. She and Viktor danced and drank champagne and generally enjoyed themselves all night. It was well after midnight when they stumbled laughing out of the Floo and over to the sofa at her place. Viktor kissed her rather sloppily and she pulled away.
"Wait, come back," he said, reaching for her as she stood.
She stepped out of his reach, suddenly anxious about how much he'd had to drink. The adrenaline pushed back her own buzz. She felt nervous and sober.
"What is wrong?" Viktor said, sitting back against the cushions.
She shook her head. "Nothing. I just…why don't I make us some tea."
"At this hour?" Viktor said, confused as he watched her hurry from the room. He stood and followed her. "Hermione?" he said, as he stepped into the kitchen. She was about to flick her wand at the kettle but turned when he said her name. When she glanced nervously at the table, and adjusted her grip on her wand, he realized what the problem was. "Hey," he said, holding up his palms. "I have had a few drinks, but I am not so drunk that I would hurt you. I will never be that drunk."
She blinked at him and tried to hold herself together, biting her lip to keep from crying.
Viktor slowly approached her and gently put his arms around her. "You are safe with me. It is okay."
She pressed her forehead against his chest. "No, it's not."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She shook her head.
"Do you still want a cup of tea?"
She shook her head again.
"We will go to bed then, yes?"
She leaned back, wiped her face with her hands, and nodded. "Okay."
He took her hand and led her upstairs.
She went into the bathroom and Viktor stripped and put on a fresh pair of boxers before slipping into bed. When Hermione came back into the bedroom, she was wearing a short cotton gown and slipped in beside him on her back before saying "Nox" to put out the lamp. Viktor rolled toward her on his side. "You know you can tell me anything. I will not repeat it."
"I know," she said softly.
"It is not good that you do not talk about this."
"You're probably right, but I'm not going to."
He sighed. "I am sorry I drank so much tonight."
"You're fine," she said. "It's not about you. It's my hang up, not yours."
"Hang up?" he said, confused by the term.
"Issue, problem. It's about me. You didn't do anything wrong. You're not even that drunk."
He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I am still sorry."
"Don't be," she said, rolling toward him. "I had a really good time tonight. It was nice to get out of my head for a bit and have fun."
"Out of your head?" he said, confused again by her turn of phrase.
"Sometimes, I have a hard time getting my mind to be quiet. Dancing is one of the things that does that for me. The drinking doesn't hurt either."
He smiled. "You are a good dancer."
She smiled back. "So are you."
"What else quiets your mind?"
Her smile widened and she ran her hand over his chest. "Well…"
He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her. This time, she kissed him back.
xXx
The next few weeks flew by. Hermione continued at the Ministry. The work in the Department of Mysteries was fascinating and the freedom and resources that came with being an Unspeakable was tremendous. She was floored by the sheer amount of magic she was allowed to do without oversight. After a week of essentially playing with the possibilities and all the resources available, she had settled into her first project.
Viktor was having a good season. Puddlemere United was up four to one when the team left to start a two-week tour of European away games. It was the first time Hermione had been left on her own for a significant length of time since she'd started dating him. It was also the first time she hadn't attended his games, but her project was reaching a critical stage and she didn't want to leave.
Initially, she thought the anxiety of being on her own was making her sick. She was working too much and not sleeping enough, and her meals had been hit or miss, but on the third day that she woke up nauseous, she started to question the cause. She realized she hadn't had a period in a while, but that wasn't unusual. Her periods had always been erratic and had only gotten worse during the war when she often went without adequate nutrition. She knew that she and Viktor were always very careful about the charm, but she didn't recall anyone casting it in Amsterdam, and she knew neither she nor Ron cast it the last night they were together.
She wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet, watching the contents of her stomach swirl away from her. She held out her hand as she walked through the bedroom and her wand flew into it. She went downstairs to the study and pulled out a medical spell book. She flipped to the reproduction section and taught herself the spell to see if she was pregnant. It was a simple spell, a basic incantation and a slight flip of the wrist with the wand directed at her belly. Her wand glowed green and she sat down hard on her desk chair. She pressed her hands to her face. Oh, what have I done? With an overwhelming sense of shame, she realized she had no idea who the father was. The realization sent her running to the powder room to be sick again. When she was done, she sat on the floor with tears steadily streaming down her face.
Her mind was racing. If it was Ron's, there was no way she would be able to pass off a red-headed child as anything but his, and if it was Ron's, it would definitely have red hair. All the Weasley children did, all the way back through the entire line. It was part of their magic. She couldn't go back to Ron now, even if he'd have her. She couldn't live with him if he was still drinking like he was and she wouldn't bring a child into that mess either, but she couldn't keep their child away from him and his family either. She wouldn't even want to, but she wasn't sure how it would work. Part of her thought perhaps a child could be her way home, but she quickly brushed that thought aside. It wouldn't be that easy. And then there was Viktor. She couldn't imagine that they could raise Ron's child together. But if it was Viktor's child, that wouldn't be so bad. Viktor was kind and they got along well. It was still early days, but things were good. Maybe they could make it work. They hadn't really talked about the future. They'd only been dating a couple of months, but maybe it would be okay, but then there was Todor. It couldn't be Todor's. It could be, but it couldn't be. That would be…that would be impossible. She thought of Todor with his curly black hair and blue eyes. She remembered him sliding inside her. She shook her head. It couldn't be Todor.
She got up and went into the study to comb through her old photo albums for a picture of Ron, when she found one, she brought it into the kitchen and opened the newspaper to the sports section which had a picture of Viktor in a story about Puddlemere United's change of fortune with him as Seeker. She set Ron's picture next to Viktor's and checked the spell book for the appropriate spell to determine paternity. Like the pregnancy spell, it was fairly simple. She cast "Revelio Paternitas" and nothing happened. One of the pictures should have glowed green. She checked the spell in the book and cast it again. Nothing happened. An icy chill went through her. She Disapparated to Viktor's flat and went into his study where he kept his photo albums. As she was flipping through one, looking for a picture of Todor, she had an even more terrifying thought. She couldn't remember if she'd had sex with Filip. Most of the evening was a blur. She didn't think she had, but she couldn't really remember. She'd woken the next morning on the floor between Viktor and Todor, so she'd assumed she'd only been with them, but now she wasn't so sure. Another wave of nausea hit and she had to run to the toilet. There was nothing left on her stomach so she just stood in Viktor's bathroom dry heaving. When she was able to stop, she went into Viktor's kitchen and made herself a cup of weak tea and drank it with a couple of digestive biscuits. She didn't feel so bad with something on her stomach, so she went back into the study and cast Revelio Paternitas again. The picture of Todor glowed green. She actually felt a sense of relief. At least it wasn't Filip. Of course, once that feeling passed, she was still stuck with the reality of Todor, a drug addict she barely knew, as the father. For a panicked moment, she considered not telling Viktor that Todor was the father. After all, they weren't just best friends, Todor was Viktor's cousin. They bore a passing resemblance to one another. She shook her head. She couldn't do that. She had to be honest, no matter what the outcome. She wondered if Viktor would want her to have an abortion. Then she wondered if maybe that's just what she should do. If she did, maybe she shouldn't say anything to anyone. She sat on Viktor's sofa and pulled her knees up to her chest. She desperately wanted her mother right then. She needed advice and comfort, but even if she wanted to try talking to Molly or Ginny, it would mean explaining how she found herself in that situation and she couldn't face that. In the end, it came down to a handful of options: have an abortion and tell no one, tell Viktor and ask what he thought she should do, or have the baby despite what Viktor thought.
She needed to walk. Unfortunately, she'd Apparated to Viktor's flat in her dressing gown. She Apparated back to her parents' house, changed, and went out the front door into Muggle London. She walked for hours. By the time she got home, she felt frozen to the core, but she knew what she was going to do.
Viktor wouldn't be home for a few more days, so she went back to work and tried not to think about the baby, but it was hard not to when she woke up sick every morning. She made an appointment with a healer for the following week. She wondered fleetingly if Viktor would still be in her life by the time the appointment rolled around. The thought of doing this on her own made her stomach twist, but the idea of not doing it felt even worse. She'd always assumed she'd have children, but of course, she'd never thought it would be under these circumstances. Still, she wasn't going to destroy an opportunity to have a family again. She couldn't. She had a good job, a place to live, she could afford childcare. It would be hard. She knew it would be hard, but she'd done difficult things before. Of course, people would assume the child was Viktor's. She wasn't sure how they would handle that. He wouldn't want to be seen as abandoning a child. She closed her eyes. The scandal would be monumental. She could only imagine the field day Witch Weekly would have. It exhausted her to even contemplate it, but she'd been through scandals before and survived. She could keep a stiff upper lip when she needed to and she was definitely going to need to.
xXx
When Viktor came home from his away games, she didn't say anything about the baby. He was so happy to be home and they'd won all but one of the matches, so she didn't want to bring him down. He had a few days off before training started again, so she took time off to be with him. The first night he was back they went to a house party on the Cornish coast. To Muggles the house looked like a ruined castle, just an outline on the ground that they could walk over, but to the magical community all the walls were still in place and it was fantastic. The main hall had a balcony that ran all the way around it and led to all the upstairs bedrooms. Downstairs was the big open hall and off of that were the kitchen, what used to be the armory, and various other rooms. The hall had been emptied of all its furniture and was being used as a dance floor for the party. Hermione was surprised to hear Muggle music mixed in with the Weird Sisters and other magical groups. Then she saw that Dean Thomas was the DJ and she understood. She and Dean had often talked about Muggle music in the common room of Gryffindor tower. Seeing him brought a smile to her face until she realized that, if Dean were there, other Gryffindors from their year might be as well. She scanned the crowded room but didn't see Ron or Harry. Perhaps Dean was just the DJ and didn't live in the house. Viktor had said ten people lived in the castle, but he only knew his teammate. He grabbed her hand and led her out on to the dance floor. Thankfully, her nausea always subsided by late morning, and it felt good to dance and let go of her cares for a while.
