Later that morning, Viktor ordered room service for breakfast and Hermione pulled on one of his T-shirts and sat at the small table with her knees up and her feet on the edge of the chair, a cup of tea in one hand, and a piece of bacon in the other.
"So, they're picking us up in a car?" she said, her forehead wrinkling in concern.
"Yes." He smiled when he saw she was wearing one of his team shirts.
"An actual car?"
"Yes. It is charmed but an actual car."
"Why can't I just make us a Portkey? Then we can meet them there."
Viktor shook his head. "Because we are doing it this way."
She sighed and stared into her teacup.
"Stop worrying," he said, bemused. She was such a little control freak.
"It's such a long drive though," she fretted.
"Only five hours. It will give you a chance to get to know Pietra," he said, smiling. He knew that they would fly most of the way cutting the time of the trip by more than half, but given her feelings about flying, he thought it best not to mention that.
She was still fretting as they checked out of the hotel and went to wait at the curb. They didn't have to wait long. Todor pulled up in a gray Lada Granta. Beside him sat a lovely woman with shoulder length wavy brown hair and piercing green eyes. The two got out and the four exchanged greetings. Hermione was introduced to Pietra. Todor seemed very uncomfortable around Hermione with Pietra there. He stuck his hand out awkwardly, and she shook it, as though they were, at best, casual acquaintances. Todor opened the trunk which was cavernous despite the subcompact exterior of the car and Viktor put their luggage inside before they all got in the car.
"Sit up front with me," Todor told Viktor. "Let the women get to know each other in the back."
"Everyone complied with his request, and they set off down the road with Todor carefully navigating the streets through Eus.
"So, what do you do, Hermione?" Pietra asked.
"I work in research and development at the British Ministry of Magic."
"Ah," Pietra said. "That sounds interesting."
"It can be," Hermione said. "How about you?"
"Like Todor, I'm an artist. I paint portraits, but I also do a lot of murals."
"Your English is very good," Hermione said.
"Thank you," Pietra said. "I studied in Britain under Magenta Comstock for a couple of years. Her death was a great loss."
"Yes," Hermione agreed.
They continued chatting about art as Todor drove them out of Eus and into the countryside. When they reached an isolated stretch of road, Todor drew out his wand and cast a spell to hide the car from Muggles as it rose into the air.
Hermione gasped. Viktor glanced back at her and mouthed 'it is okay.'
She shook her head and gripped the seat cushions.
"You don't like to fly?" Pietra asked.
"No. I detest it."
"Well, perhaps we should just drive then," Pietra said to Todor.
"We cannot do that," Todor said. "It will take twice as long. Relax. She will be fine."
"I don't know," Pietra said. "She's turning rather green."
Viktor glanced back at Hermione. "Oh, set down the car."
"Seriously?" Todor said scowling at him.
"Unless you wish her to vomit in here, yes," Viktor said. "It is okay," he said to Hermione. "Hold on. He will land."
A minute later, Todor put the Lada Granta down in a cow pasture.
Hermione had her door open before he was fully stopped, and the moment he did, she was out of the car and leaning against the bumper as she lost her breakfast.
"I am sorry," Viktor said, coming up behind her. "You did fine on the broom the other day."
Hermione wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "That was terrifying. Besides, a broom doesn't fly anything like a car." She flicked her wand and the vomit disappeared.
"We can drive the rest of the way then," Viktor said.
"No. Todor's right, that'll take forever. I've been to Cannes before with my parents. I'll meet you at Volupte, 32 Rue Hoche." She promptly Disapparated.
Viktor sighed and got back into the car. "We'll meet her there," he said without further explanation.
xXx
Viktor found Hermione a few hours later sitting at an outdoor table in front of a café. The remains of her lunch were in front of her and she was sipping a cup of tea as he approached. He sat across from her. "I am sorry. I did not realize flying in the car would make you sick."
She shrugged. "I didn't know either. That's the first time I've ever been in a flying car."
"Todor and Pietra are back at the hotel. It's a Muggle hotel on a Muggle beach. No press stalking us."
"That sounds nice. They were rather relentless during the Cup."
"Always."
She smiled at him. "They wouldn't be if you weren't so good."
He reached across the table and took her hand, stroking his thumb along hers. "And if I was not dating you."
She shook her head. "No one cares about me in Europe. I rather like that actually."
"More people know who you are than you think," he said.
"Please, it was all about you versus the Vultures. A lot of drama in that."
He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose."
She smiled. "And you won."
He grinned at her. "Yes, I did." He brought her hand to his lips. "Shall we go back to the hotel?"
"All right. I'm done here."
They walked back to the hotel amidst the Muggles, none of whom gave them a second glance.
"Pietra seems nice," Hermione said.
"She is," Viktor agreed.
"Todor seemed…awkward."
"I think part of him worried that she would meet you and somehow know what happened."
"If he doesn't relax, she's going to think something's going on."
"He will settle down," Viktor said. "Ah, this is it."
Hermione looked at the massive hotel. "I thought you said this was a Muggle hotel."
"It is mostly Muggle, but owned by a half-blood, so there are accommodations for us too. There is also an entrance to Magical Cannes in the basement."
"Great," Hermione said.
"Yes, best of both worlds I think." He led her through the lobby to a bank of elevators. "We have the penthouse suite and Pietra and Todor are on the floor below."
"Penthouse suite?" Hermione said, raising her eyebrows at the costly choice.
"We deserve a nice week, yes?" he said as they took the elevator to the top floor.
"I think so," she said, smiling.
"I thought we could have some time to ourselves before dinner."
"Sure," Hermione said.
xXx
The suite was amazing. In addition to the king-sized bed and lavish bathroom, there was a large sitting area, and a private balcony that looked out over the Mediterranean Sea. Hermione was amused to see a large box of bon bons on the coffee table with a congratulatory note from the hotel staff. She went on to the balcony. "This is gorgeous," she said, looking at the view.
Viktor stepped behind her and slid his hands around her waist. "So are you."
She snorted. "Hardly. Clearly you want something."
"Mmm," he murmured against her neck. "What could I want?"
She leaned her head back on his shoulder and kissed him. He slid his hands up to cup her breasts. She broke the kiss and asked, "How private is this balcony?"
"Very, very private," he said as he slid his hands back down only to slide up again, this time under her shirt.
She turned in his arms. "Excellent."
xXx
On the second day, Viktor was surprised to find Hermione at the bar in the suite's lounge fixing Bloody Mary's first thing in the morning. She was barefoot and barelegged wearing a loose-fitting beach cover up.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Fixing drinks," she said without looking up from what she was doing.
"Why? Is it not a little early for that?"
"Normally, yes, but we're going to the beach this morning." She took a taste of the mixture and then poured herself a glass. "Want one?"
"No. What does going to the beach have to do with anything?" Viktor said.
"It's a topless beach."
"You do not like that?"
"It's not that I don't like it. It's just that I'm British."
He cocked his head at her. "What?"
"We can't be partially naked in public sober. It's not done."
"I thought you said you had been to Cannes before."
"I have. With my parents the summer after fifth year. We came for the sun because it helps with cursed scars."
"Were you topless then?" Viktor asked.
"Of course, that was the whole point of coming here."
"Were you drunk then?"
"Of course," Hermione said. "First time I ever drank with my parents."
He laughed. "You were only sixteen."
She finished her drink and poured herself another. "British! Public nudity!"
He shook his head and laughed again. "You do not have to sunbathe, you know."
"I do though," Hermione said more seriously. "The scar on my side still hasn't faded to white and the one under my shoulder blade is raw. Even under a glamour charm to hide them, it's good to have them in the sunshine. It'll draw away more of the dark magic."
He stroked her cheek with his finger tips and leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips. "I will order us some food or you will not be able to walk."
She smiled at him. "Thanks."
xXx
As the days went by, Todor seemed to decide that the best way to deal with his nervousness about being around Hermione was to pick at her without ever actually looking at her, especially if they were on the beach. He ribbed her about her Britishness, and often referred to her as Viktor's queen, but there was no malice in it, so she took it in her stride. Pietra, on the other hand, was charming. She and Hermione went shopping, they went sunbathing, and they enjoyed talking to each other. Conversation centered mostly on books, art, and Quidditch with the occasional foray into politics, but Viktor always steered away from that subject for fear that they would get into the war and upset Hermione, but they managed to avoid that pitfall.
xXx
Pietra went shopping and came back with magazines and newspapers, including The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly.
"I have beach reading for tomorrow," she said as she joined the others for lunch. They were having room service in the penthouse.
"Something suitably mindless, I suppose," Todor said.
"I should say, look at this." She tossed them on the table. Witch Weekly was on top and featured a photo of Hermione kissing Viktor as confetti rained over them. She had her fingers in his hair and her legs wrapped around him. The headline was 'Granger's Bulgarian Bon Bon Wins Big at European Cup.' The Daily Prophet was more balanced with their coverage, discussing the entire team and featuring a lot of photos, but the same one that appeared on the cover of Witch Weekly was also in the Prophet albeit smaller, black and white, and in the lower right corner of the spread.
Hermione stared at the image wondering what had possessed her to wrap her legs around him but it was just a natural reaction to the force of him picking her up and spinning her around. She sighed and tossed the magazine aside.
"You're not happy with the photo?" Pietra asked.
"It's not that. It's a great photo, but it's not a moment everyone needs to see."
"I understand how that would be tiresome," Todor said. "Although Viktor has been dealing with this sort of thing since he was seventeen."
"Hermione has been dealing with unwanted publicity since she was fifteen," Viktor said.
Hermione shrugged. "Oh well, it is what it is. What time did you want to go down to the beach?" She knew she had to be blasé about it because it wasn't going to change. The Puddlemere United fans had embraced Viktor as the Bulgarian Bon Bon. During tense moments in games, the fans would chant 'bon bon, bon bon' over and over. When they first started, he thought they were making fun of him, that they weren't accepting him, because he wasn't British, but as the season went on, it became obvious that the fans thought his performance was as sweet as candy, and they loved their Bulgarian Bon Bon.
xXx
Hermione had been worried that they'd have to spend all their time in France with Todor and Pietra, but it didn't work out that way. Each couple had plenty of time to themselves and she and Viktor were able to get back to where they were before she'd lost the baby. By the time they left Cannes, Hermione felt like her world was starting to right itself, and she was fluent in Bulgarian since most of the conversations during the week were in Bulgarian.
When they arrived back in England, a letter from the Department of Mysteries was waiting for her informing her that she had permission to start the testing phase of her Apparition project. Viktor came into the kitchen at her triumphant cry.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I got approval to test my project."
"Fantastic!" he said, giving her a big hug and spinning her around. This time when she wrapped her legs around him there was no press to take a picture and no crowd to stop them from taking it further.
xXx
Viktor had the next two weeks off. He spent his time playing magical golf with his teammates during the day and he and Hermione would go out with them for dinner or to house parties in the evenings. Magical golf was much more dangerous than regular golf, but Viktor was with other talented wizards, so Hermione didn't worry about him too much. She had her hands full at work. The first time she performed the practical magic to test her new model of Apparition the pain was searing. She could do the magic, and the initial test went well, but the personal cost was high. By the end of the day, she didn't have the strength to Apparate, so she took the Floo home. Stumbling out of the fireplace, she sank to her knees clutching her side. She was surprised and embarrassed to find Viktor in the parlor. He dropped the book he'd been reading and hurried to her side.
"Let me see," he said, as he helped her to her feet.
Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm fine."
"Let me see," he insisted and began unbuttoning her robes.
She didn't have the strength to resist him and grimaced when he cursed at the sight of the glowing scars.
"What have they done to you? Were you cursed?" There was a threatening protective edge to his voice.
"Yes," Hermione groaned. "Years ago. You know that. Please, I just need a drink and to sit down." She pulled the top of her robes closed.
Viktor helped her over to one of the chairs. "I'll draw you a bath, stay here." He pulled his wand and disappeared with a pop. He reappeared a moment later, gathered her in his arms and Apparated both of them to the upstairs bathroom. The tub was full of hot water and bubbles. He cast Deliquesco, and she was naked in his arms. He settled her slowly into the hot water, then summoned whiskey and a glass from downstairs and poured her a healthy measure.
"How often does this happen?" he asked as he handed her the drink.
Hermione took a sip before she answered. "Not that often. Mostly I do research. Practical magic is only a small percentage of what I do."
"I don't understand. I've seen you do very powerful magic without a problem."
"Brand new spells are different. You have to weave the underlying magic as you cast it the first time, which is much more difficult than casting an established spell."
Viktor seemed to consider that. "I don't like it. It's too hard on you. You should find a different job."
Hermione took another swallow of whiskey and didn't say anything.
He sighed in frustration and took a seat on the closed toilet lid.
She took another sip of whiskey. "Are you just going to sit there staring at me?"
"Maybe."
"I thought you were playing golf today."
"I was, but Oliver got bitten by a griffin, and we had to take him to St. Mungo's."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Is he okay?"
"He is fine now, but no one felt like going back to finish the game."
"Understandable." She took another drink of whiskey, which was going down easier and easier, and closed her eyes again. "Did I tell you we're invited to a wedding in Ireland next week?"
"And they are only now sending out invitations?"
"No. I got it a while ago. It just slipped my mind."
"But we are going?"
"I can cancel if you like." Seamus and Lavender were getting married, she wasn't bothered if they went or not.
He shrugged. "No need. I like weddings, but speaking of scheduling, I got an owl from Todor and Pietra this morning," Viktor said.
"Oh?"
"Yes, in September, the Ministry is doing a show of Magenta Comstock's work and also the work of some of her best students. Pietra has been invited to bring a piece."
"That's fantastic."
"Apparently, Harry is going to be there."
"All three of us were invited." She swirled a finger through the bubbles.
"You knew?" Viktor asked.
"I didn't know Pietra was invited, but I did know about the event," Hermione clarified.
"Are you going?"
"I haven't decided. People will want photos. I don't know how I feel about having my picture taken with the two of them since that article came out."
Viktor made a non-committal noise. "What about tomorrow night? Will you come for the ceremony to celebrate the team winning the European Cup?"
"Of course," Hermione said, surprised that he felt he had to ask.
"But Ron and Harry are going to be there too, yes?"
"Ron maybe, but not Harry. He's still on his honeymoon. To be honest, I doubt Ron will come either, but even if he does, it doesn't matter. It's an important event for you. I wouldn't miss that."
He smiled at her and moved over to sit on the edge of the tub. "I appreciate that. You do not think people will ask for photos?"
"Of Ron and me? No. They're going to want pictures of the team. Maybe of you and me." She finished her drink, reached over the side of the tub for the bottle, and poured another.
"Then why for the art show?" Viktor asked.
"Because that's a war related event. Harry is presenting a posthumous award to Magenta Comstock on behalf of the Ministry. There are going to be speeches. Whenever there are speeches people want our picture. I don't know why."
He gave her a sad smile and slipped a finger under a stray curl and tucked it behind her ear. "Yes, you do," he said quietly.
She sighed. "Yeah." She took another long drink of whiskey.
"So Todor and Pietra have asked to stay with me. I was hoping you would stay with me too, at least while they are here."
"Sure," she said.
He smiled at her. "Good."
xXx
A week later Hermione was crossing Seamus' parents' lush green lawn to the stairway that led down to the water. It was a lovely summer day with a light breeze blowing off the ocean, which was keeping it from being too hot. She was relieved to get out from under the tent and into the open. Viktor was stopped for an autograph, but she knew he'd catch up. It was possible she'd had too much to drink for this time of day, but it wasn't her fault it was a daytime wedding. She thought it was tacky to serve lunch instead of dinner, and having a dozen bridesmaids and groomsmen was ridiculous, and having all of them give a speech was excruciating to sit through. At least some things never changed. Lavender was just as repugnant as always. Her wedding dress was so ornate she looked like the wedding cake. Hermione snorted and made her way carefully down the wooden stairs to the water. It wouldn't do to trip and she was none too steady on her feet at the moment. At least she hadn't been seated across from Ron at lunch so there was no need to listen to his latest date prattle on about whatever rubbish she did. She made her way to the end of the pier and leaned on the railing to stare out at the water. She was exhausted. She'd been testing her plan for map-based Apparition all week and despite the fact that she and Thomas and four other Unspeakables could do it, the others could not. The department pulled the plug, citing that the process was simply too dangerous to be released to the general public, so she was back to square one. She sighed and closed her eyes. The Apparition problem vexed her. There had to be a better way to do it.
xXx
Harry poured himself another cup of punch and looked around the lawn. Seamus's parents' house had such beautiful green grass it wasn't hard to see why Ireland was called the Emerald Isle. He sipped his punch, enjoying the summer breeze, and looked over at Ginny laughing with Fred and George. Trouble, he thought, the whole lot of them, which made him smile. He still couldn't believe his luck at having such a fabulous witch for a wife.
He noticed Ron's date was standing talking with Hannah Abbott, but he couldn't remember her name? Cindy, Sally, something, whatever. It didn't matter. He'd probably never see her again. Actually, he hadn't seen Ron for a while. He looked over the lawn. It was usually pretty easy to spot Ron, since he generally stood a head or more above most of the crowd. Harry didn't see him, so he walked down to where the tent was set up. There was still a crowd congratulating Seamus and Lavender on their nuptials, but Ron wasn't among them.
Past the tent was a wooden walkway leading down to the dock where Seamus' father kept his boat. Ron was leaning against the railing, staring out at sea. Harry joined him at the rail and saw that it wasn't the ocean that had captured Ron's attention. Hermione stood at the end of the pier, smoking a cigarette and staring off at the horizon.
Ron acknowledged Harry's presence by saying, "She smokes now?"
Harry shrugged. "I guess."
"Did you ever think when we were kids that you would see Hermione Granger standing on a pier drunk and smoking a fag?"
"What makes you think she's drunk?"
Ron scowled. "I watched her walk down there if you could call it walking."
"Have you talked to her?" Harry asked.
"Only to say hello when she and Viktor arrived. I hate that slimy Bulgarian git. I can't believe he's got her smoking."
"I don't know that the smoking is his doing. Viktor doesn't smoke."
Ron glared at him.
"Or maybe he does," Harry said, backpedaling. "And I've just never seen him do it."
As if on cue, Viktor appeared at the top of the stairs leading down to the pier. If he saw Ron and Harry, he didn't acknowledge them. He had two glasses of wine in his hands as he walked toward Hermione.
xXx
Hermione watched as a flock of seagulls landed on the water in front of her.
"I brought you wine," Viktor said as he walked up and joined her at the rail. He handed her a glass.
She took a long drink. "You're a god among men, anyone ever tell you that?"
"Only when I am on a broom," he said with a smile. "Or in the bedroom."
She chuckled and leaned against him. He draped his arm over her shoulders.
xXx
At the top of the stairs, Ron shook his head angrily. "Doesn't he realize she's had enough?"
"Why do you do this to yourself?" Harry asked. "There's a pretty girl over there waiting for you."
Ron shook his head. "I don't know why I brought her. She's intolerable."
"More intolerable than standing here glaring at Viktor and Hermione?"
Ron turned his gaze back to them. "Yes."
Harry sighed and leaned against the railing facing the party instead of the pier. He hoped Ginny would see him and come rescue him and insist that Ron go with them.
"Percy says she's always at the Ministry."
"Yeah?"
"He says she seems more like herself there. She doesn't wear her hair straight and up in that stupid bun, and she's always working."
"That does sound like our Hermione," Harry said wistfully.
"Right," Ron grumbled, pointing down the pier. "So, who the hell is that?"
Harry turned around to see Hermione finish her glass of wine and light another cigarette. "I don't know, mate."
"I hate this," Ron said.
"I know." Harry sympathized but there didn't seem like much anyone could do about it. Hermione was a grown woman; she could do whatever she wanted. They were all grown now. It was hard to imagine, that after everything they'd been through, this was how things had turned out. No wonder Ron had such a hard time accepting it. Harry couldn't believe it himself. "You should talk to her," he said.
Ron shook his head. "I can't."
"Why?"
"I just can't."
Harry put his hand on Ron's shoulder.
"How am I ever going to set this right?" Ron asked, his voice cracking.
Harry shook his head. "I don't know, but it would be great if you could."
Just then, a man walked to the top of the stairs and shouted that there was an owl for Viktor. Harry could see Viktor say something to Hermione and she made a gesture for him to go. He gave her a quick kiss before hurrying up the stairs and following the messenger. Ron looked at Harry.
"Go. No time like the present."
Ron hurried down the stairs toward Hermione. Harry glanced after him for a moment and then went back to the party. He wished Ron the best of luck, but he couldn't bear to watch.
xXx
Shortly after Viktor left, Hermione felt Ron approach. "Hello, Ron," she said without turning around.
"Hermione," Ron said.
She lit another fag. "What brings you out to the pier?" She caught herself slurring ever so slightly.
"I saw you from up top. You smoke now?"
She turned around and glared at him. "You came all the way down here to complain about my smoking?"
"It doesn't seem like you."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Really?" She took a deep drag on the cigarette.
"I'm just saying." He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets.
She blew out a long stream of smoke. What's he on about now? What's he want from me? "I can never win with you, can I?"
"How's that?" Ron said.
"You're a bore, Hermione. Lighten up, Hermione. Why do you have to be such a drag, Hermione?" She mimicked his accent perfectly. She could tell by the look on his face that it stung.
His mouth dropped open as if he were going to say something.
She stared at him for a moment, waiting for the comeback. When there wasn't one, she pushed past him to leave. He grabbed her arm and the touch of his skin against hers shot through her like lightening. It was the first time he'd touched her since the breakup and the audacity of it filled her with fury.
"Let go, Ron," she growled and the air around them crackled with electricity. "Or you'll find I have far worse to throw at you than a few canaries."
He dropped her arm and stepped back, visibly shaken. She stormed up the stairs in a palpable fury.
xXx
Ron's anger drowned in the onslaught of Hermione's. He watched her storm off and felt weak and shaken. He leaned against the railing to catch his breath. At least she was still angry, she wasn't indifferent, which meant she still cared. Despite her obvious anger, he knew she felt the charge when they touched. He could see it in her eyes. The bond between them pulsed hard for a moment. He ached to touch her again. He wasn't sure how, and he didn't know when, but he was going to get her back. They were meant to be together; he knew that. How he was going to make that happen was just a matter of strategy. He was good at strategy. He just needed a plan.
xXx
Viktor was coming back across the lawn toward the pier when Hermione reached the top of the stairs. She didn't ask him, didn't even slow down, she just grabbed his arm and Disapparated them both back to London. It was a dangerous move to side-along, more dangerous without warning the other person, extremely dangerous drunk, but she took it in her stride without so much as a misstep. If there was one thing she could do backwards and forwards, in any state, at any time, it was Apparition. Viktor was wide-eyed and pale when they reappeared in her parlor.
"Sorry," Hermione mumbled. "I just couldn't be there anymore."
He rubbed a hand across his mouth but didn't say anything.
