So Much About You

It was a beautiful autumn day, about a month later, when Hermione and Thomas Greene walked on to the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. She had mixed feelings about being back at the school, too many memories, but McGonagall had been kind enough to let them test their cushioning charm at Hogwarts. If it worked and resulted in fewer player injuries, the next step would be to take it to the professional pitches.

"Are you ready?" Thomas asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Alright then, pick an end and we'll start casting."

She set off toward one of the sets of goalposts but was shocked to find Ron sitting in the lowest row of seats. His wand was was up and he appeared to be doing some spell casting of his own. "What are you doing?" she called up to him.

"Experimenting with a charm. What are you doing?"

She scowled at him. "Same."

"Go on then. I'm not bothered."

She turned around. Part of her wanted to confront him about the other night, but this was neither the time nor the place. Holding her wand out she looked to see Thomas do the same at the other end of the pitch. He gave the start signal and they began casting the spell that would leave a reactive cushion over the entire bottom of the pitch. It would be unnoticeable unless someone fell on it. After a few minutes of casting, Hermione lowered her wand as did Thomas. They joined each other in the center of the pitch.

"Think it worked?" Thomas asked.

"Only one way to find out." Hermione held out her arms and fell backwards. The cushion reacted, and she landed safely, so she reached into her robes and pulled out a box of various sized eggs from an extendable pocket. "Let's go."

They climbed the steps into the stands. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Ron stood watching them. When they reached the top, Hermione opened the box, and they each took an egg and tossed it on to the pitch. The cushion reacted perfectly. They chose progressively larger eggs until they each held an ostrich egg and launched them at different parts of the pitch at the same time. Then they climbed back down to check their results. Hermione couldn't help noticing that Ron was now leaning on the railing watching them, whatever project he was working on abandoned. Typical, she thought.

She and Thomas collected all the eggs. None were broken or even cracked. They picked up the last one at the end of the pitch where Ron was standing.

Thomas said, "I guess it's time for the real test."

"Right," Hermione said, and reached into her extendable pocket for the broom she'd brought.

"Hang on!" Ron shouted. He put his hand on the railing and swung his legs over, landing on his feet. He jogged over to them. "What are you planning on doing with that?"

"None of your business," Hermione snapped.

"Someone has to fly up and fall from a broom at various heights," Thomas said, ignoring Hermione's irritated glare. "She drew the short straw."

"No way. I'll do it," Ron said, reaching for the broom.

"Absolutely not," Hermione said, holding on.

Ron held tight. "Don't be ridiculous," he said. "You're terrible on a broom."

Hermione frowned. "I think I can manage to fall off one."

"You'll hurt yourself," Ron said.

"No, I won't. The cushion charm works."

"If you made it, I'm sure it does," Ron conceded. "But you don't know how to fall. When I played Quidditch, they taught us how to fall to minimize injuries."

"The cushion will minimize injuries," Hermione argued.

"He's got a point," Thomas interjected. "Falling wrong, even on a cushioned surface can result in injury."

Hermione glared at him furiously, but Thomas only smiled pleasantly back, which impressed the hell out of Ron. Apparently, Unspeakables weren't particularly bothered by the ire of their own kind. "Fine," she said, relinquishing the broom. "Go on then."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Easy," Thomas said. "Just fly up twenty feet and fall and keep doing that every twenty feet until you reach a hundred."

"Alright," Ron said, straddling the broom.

"Be careful," Hermione couldn't help saying.

Ron winked at her. "I'm not worried. I know you can fix anything that might break." He pushed off the ground, flew up twenty feet and dropped off the broom. Hermione felt her heart lurch. It was all she could do not to cast an arresting charm to stop his fall, but the cushion worked, and he bounced up unharmed.

"That's brilliant," Ron said. "Kind of fun actually." He bent to pick up the broom that had fallen next to him and was soon in the air again, this time flying to forty feet before dropping off the broom. It was another success. Hermione winced every time he hit the cushion but was pleased that it kept working. Finally, he flew up to a hundred feet. Without fanfare, he dropped off the broom as he had the other times. The cushion caught him as before, and he bounced back up on to his feet. "Bloody brilliant!" He went to hug Hermione, but she backed away as he approached, knowing what he intended.

"That was excellent," Thomas said, thrusting out his hand. Ron shook it, but he only had eyes for Hermione.

"Fantastic idea," Ron said. "How'd you think of that?"

"Viktor took a bad spill at the European Cup. And, you know, Harry broke his wrist second year."

"Right," Ron said. "How is Viktor?"

"Fine. He's been in Wales on away games the past couple of days, but he's home tonight."

"Great," Ron said. "He must be pleased with all this."

"He doesn't know yet," Hermione said. "It hasn't been released, but it should be soon, given today's results."

"Great," Ron repeated, his eyes bored through her like he was searching for something, which made Hermione intensely uncomfortable.

"How is…was her name Ivy?" Hermione asked, trying to be polite, and put the conversation back on him.

"I have no idea," Ron said. "We aren't together anymore. Last I heard, she'd met some Italian bloke and moved to Milan."

"Oh," Hermione said. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Ron shrugged. "I'm not. Good for her."

"Okay then," Hermione said awkwardly. She looked at Thomas. "We should go."

"Righto," Thomas said. He pulled his wand and said to Ron, "Thanks again for all your help." He Disapparated before Ron could respond.

"Hermione—"

She cut him off. "I've got to go. Thanks for your help." She pulled her wand and disappeared.

xXx

When she landed in the alley next to the Ministry, Thomas was waiting for her. "All right there, Granger?" he asked affably.

"I'm fine, but you shouldn't have allowed Ron to test the cushion."

"Why not? He wanted to, and we both knew it worked."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" Thomas asked, as they stepped into the telephone box that would take them down to the Department of Mysteries.

"It was excruciating."

Thomas shook his head. "No, it wasn't. He was fine."

"For me."

Thomas cocked his head. "I don't understand."

"No, you don't." She rested a palm against the side of the elevator to steady herself.

"Hermione," Thomas said gently. "We're partners. We do very dangerous things together. If you have a problem with what happened today, you need to explain it to me. I'm pretty bright, I'll understand."

She closed her eyes. She knew he was right. "At the end of the war, in the final battle, I was injured."

"Yes," Thomas said. "I read about that. You and Weasley both were badly hurt."

"Right," she said. "But I was hurt first. My leg was badly broken. I couldn't get up. I killed the Death Eater that cursed me and it…rattled me. Ron and Harry were fighting in another corridor but their fight found me. One of the Death Eaters cast a curse at me and Ron dove to intercept it. It caught him in the face, a tremendous blow that knocked him unconscious. He fell on top of me. Seeing him fall over and over today was…"

"Excruciating?" Thomas finished for her.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought you were just being stubborn. His reasoning for doing the falling seemed sound to me."

"It was," Hermione admitted. "But seeing him take a fall for me, even one I know won't hurt him…that was very hard to watch."

"I understand. If we're in a situation where I think you're just being stubborn again, I'll make sure to have your motives clear. Fair?"

"Yes. Thank you."

They stepped off the elevator into the Department of Mysteries. Aside from her first week, Hermione didn't think too much about what had happened there fifth year, but she felt tension crawling up her spine as she walked through the black tiled chamber past the Hall of Prophecies and its vast but now far emptier shelves, the Love Room and its Amortentia fountain, and into the Space Room, where her office was. The scar on her chest ached more than usual, but she was fairly certain that was psychosomatic. Thomas followed along behind her. "Are you staying tonight? I was thinking about getting some takeout and settling in. I had a thought about my Time-Turner project while we were at the pitch.

"No, sorry. Viktor and I are meeting friends for dinner. I just need to pick up a couple of things from my office, and then I need to go."

"Next time then. Cheerio," Thomas said and went into his office.

Hermione stepped into her office and glanced at the clock. She was running late. She quickly changed into dress robes and looked in the mirror over the tiny sink in her rooms. She cast the elaborate spells to straighten her hair and followed that up with some Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to hold it and then cast the spell to put it up in a French twist. She looked at the clock again and hurried back to the elevator.

xXx

When she reached the restaurant, Bobo's Italian Café, Viktor was talking to the host. Oliver and several other teammates were waiting outside with their dates. The restaurant was in the Muggle community, but also catered to the magical population. The owner, Bobo, was magical, but had married a Muggle and had a Squib daughter, who had married a Muggle, but then had two magical sons. He kept his restaurant open to both worlds with separate entrances and dining rooms. His daughter managed the Muggle half.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked as she approached Oliver. "I thought you'd all be inside by now."

Viktor walked up at the same time she did. "There was an error with the reservation. They cannot seat a party this large until ten o'clock."

"Bloody hell," Oliver muttered. "I'm starving."

"We could try to go somewhere else," Hermione said.

Viktor shook his head. "On Friday night? We will never get in anywhere with this many people."

Oliver looked at Hermione. "Can't you do something?"

She shook her head. "I don't like to do that."

"Come on," Oliver said.

"What is he talking about?" Viktor asked.

Hermione sighed. "I could ask for Harry's table."

Everyone looked at her with hopeful expressions.

"Fine," she said, and reached up to undo her hair.

"What are you doing?" Viktor said.

"I need to look like me to do this, don't I?"

Viktor was taken aback. "You do look like you."

She frowned at him. "No, I don't." She uttered a simple spell and her hair fell in a cascade of ringlets down her back. She took a deep breath and went inside.

Walking past the host, she went directly to the owner. "Hello, Bobo."

"Hermione!" Bobo hugged her. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm here with Viktor Krum's party. There was a mix up with our reservation, and I was wondering if Harry is using his table."

"It's not Harry's table," Bobo said with a sad smile. "You and Ron have access too. It's the Golden Trio table. I can seat you now."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "I'll go get everyone."

She stepped back outside. "They're seating us."

As they all walked through the restaurant to a private room in the back, heads turned.

"Why did we not just reserve this from the start?" Viktor whispered as they walked.

"You'll see." She stopped before entering the room and gestured everyone else inside ahead of her.

When Viktor first stepped into the room the wall was a mosaic of magical photographs. There were so many it was difficult to pick out a theme, but then he realized they were all from Hogwarts and most especially Gryffindor. When Oliver stepped into the room a photograph of him on his broom and wearing Gryffindor colors expanded to poster-size on one wall.

"Welcome, welcome," Bobo said. "Take a seat and your menus will appear." As everyone began taking their seats, Viktor realized Hermione was still standing outside the room. Bobo hugged her as he left. "It's so good to see you, my dear."

"It's good to see you too," Hermione said, hugging him back. Viktor saw her take a deep breath as Bobo left. When she stepped over the threshold, seven more photographs enlarged and joined Oliver's. Everyone at the table looked up. She cleared her throat. "All the photographs you see here are by Colin Creevey. He was a year below us in Gryffindor House and quite the shutterbug. Bobo was his grandfather. Colin died in the war and Bobo dedicated this room to his hobby. Whenever a Gryffindor that's pictured in any of the photographs comes in, their photos expand. She took her seat and a menu appeared before her, but she'd lost her appetite.

Viktor studied the enlarged photos around the room. He was surprised to see one of him with her. It was taken from a distance and captured a private moment between them. They were down by the lake. The sun was starting to set as he leaned down to kiss her over and over again. He smiled to see how young they both looked and the blush across her cheek as she kissed him back. The next photo was taken in the common room. She and Harry and Ron were sitting around in their pajamas, books open all around them, but they didn't seem to be studying much, since they were all laughing. In another, she was on her own, reading outside. There was another of the three of them walking back from Hogsmeade in the snow. She said something to Ron, and from the expression on her face, Viktor knew she was cross. Ron put snow down the back of her coat and she chased him out of the photo. In another photo, she was surrounded by other students in what looked like some kind of training room. She cast her Patronus and a silver otter danced around her. Her delight at being able to cast it was all over her face. In another training room photo, she and Harry were demonstrating a shield charm. The final photo was another private moment but between her and Ron. He lay in a hospital bed looking sunken-eyed and pale. She was sitting in a chair beside him, but leaned over, so her head and torso rested on the bed next to him. She was asleep. Briefly waking, Ron rested his hand in her hair before closing his eyes again. It was painfully intimate. Viktor noticed Hermione didn't lift her eyes to the wall at all during dinner. She couldn't look at her past, and it worried him.

When dinner was over, Viktor and Hermione were the last to leave the room. He stopped at the image of them kissing by the lake. "I have never seen this photograph. I like it. Do you think I could get a copy?"

For the first time all night, Hermione looked at the wall and stared intently at the photograph of her fifteen-year-old self with a then eighteen-year-old Viktor. "I'll ask Bobo."

Bobo came into the room then. "You enjoyed your evening?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "Everything was delicious, as always."

"Good, good," the older wizard said, rubbing his hands together. "I'm so glad."

"Bobo," Hermione said. "Would it be possible for me to get a copy of this photo?"

Bobo nodded. "Of course, of course. I will send it to you tomorrow."

"Thank you," she said and kissed his cheek.

"Have a wonderful evening," he said in response.

Viktor followed her out into the night. They walked the three blocks back to his flat in silence but holding hands. A light rain started to fall. Hermione didn't bother to cast a charm to keep them dry, so Viktor did.

When they finally returned to his flat, he took her cloak and hung it on the rack by the door. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Without answering, she went into the kitchen and got a bottle of Ogden's and poured herself a stiff drink.

"Hermione?"

She swallowed some of her drink and said, "He had no right to take most of those photos."

"What?"

"Colin, he was such a little voyeur. You should see what happens when Harry walks into that room. There must be forty pictures of him that expand and pop out. I don't know if Colin was practicing being paparazzi or if he was in love with Harry. Of course, we can't ask him because he's dead, the little perv." Tears filled her eyes. She swallowed more whiskey. "What was he doing taking that picture of us by the lake? He never sold it to the Prophet, so what was the point?"

Viktor shook his head. "I do not know. Perhaps he was like Todor and photos were how he made sense of the world."

Hermione looked at him. "How does a photo of you and me having a snog make sense of Colin's world?"

Viktor shrugged.

"They were just kids, Colin and Dennis. Murdered, and for what? They were born to non-magical parents. As if that was anyone's fault. Senseless, just senseless slaughter. There are so few of us, why were we killing each other? It was just hastening our own demise."

"I know," Viktor said.

She poured more whiskey in her glass. Viktor opened his mouth to suggest she rethink that but then closed it. He watched her drink for a moment. "That photo of you and Ron—"

"Oh, please," she said in frustration. "Don't get weird or jealous about that—"

"I am not. I was wondering when it was taken. It could not have been after the war because you are not injured."

She sighed. "Sorry, right, you're not the jealous sort. It was sixth year. He'd been poisoned. Harry's quick thinking saved him with a bezoar, but he was quite ill for a while."

"And you stayed with him?"

"Madam Pomphrey wouldn't let me, so I left when visiting hours were over and then snuck back in, slept there all night, and then snuck out in the morning. I couldn't stand the thought of him in there alone and vulnerable."

"You were a very good girlfriend," Viktor said, smiling at her.

"I wasn't his girlfriend then."

Viktor raised his eyebrows.

"We didn't get together until months later." She shook her head. "It was complicated."

"Oh," Viktor said. "I assumed you were dating before that."

Hermione let out a soft snort. "What dating? We never dated. We were friends, and then we were lovers. There was a war on and we were wanted fugitives. After the war we were recovering. Then we moved in together and things fell apart. There was no dating."

"That's too bad." He smiled at her. "You are a good date, interesting and up for anything. He missed out."

She shrugged. "Somehow, I doubt he sees it that way."

Viktor took the whiskey glass from her and set it on the counter. "Then he is an idiot."

Hermione smiled as he leaned in for a kiss. Viktor was right. Ron was an idiot. When he broke the kiss, he smiled at her. "You have a birthday soon, yes?"

"I guess I do." She'd forgotten all about her birthday.

"Twenty-one, right?"

She nodded. "There's no need to make a fuss though."

"As it happens, Greece is thinking of putting together a Quidditch team. I have been asked to speak to the coach and tour their training facility. We could combine that with your birthday and do a tour."

"Really?" Hermione said, delighted. "That sounds fun."

"Good. I will make arrangements then. Do you want it to be just us or should I invite anyone else?"

"Invite Pietra and Todor if you like." Hermione's attention had already shifted to the day's post.

"I could ask them, of course, but I was thinking perhaps you might like to ask Harry and his wife."

Hermione looked up from the letter she was looking at. "What? No. I don't think so."

"Why not? I thought you wanted to reconnect."

"I can't ask them."

"Why not?" Viktor asked.

"Because we've never even been out to dinner with them as a couple. I can't ask them to vacation with us."

Viktor shrugged. "Why? I know Harry. I am sure his wife is nice. What is the problem? We will get a big suite or completely different rooms, whatever you prefer."

Hermione sighed. "Look, it's kind of you to offer, but no. It's too weird. Ginny is Ron's sister." She shook her head. "Invite Todor and Pietra. We have a good time with them."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "All right but perhaps we should invite Harry and his wife to dinner."

"Sure." She knew she wouldn't do that. Having Harry and Ginny over for dinner at Viktor's flat would be too weird and even weirder to have them over to her parents' place. The last time Ginny had been there had been to help clean up after Hermione's parents were murdered and the last time Harry had been there was disastrous. As much as she hated the thought, it was probably best to just let go. They were still going to see each other at public events. Perhaps that was enough. It was clear to her that she would never be able to normalize things with Ron. He seemed to want to pretend that she'd left him for no reason, and that she was just being difficult about the whole thing. Part of her wondered if he'd forgotten that whole last night. Maybe he had, but surely, he hadn't forgotten the entirety of the last few months of their relationship. The situation built over time, even if he blanked out that last horrible night, he should still know why she left, so he was being willfully obtuse about the whole thing. It made her furious and hurt her deeply that he refused to apologize. If he didn't want to tell anyone else what had happened between them, that was his business, but to act toward her as though he'd done nothing to drive her away was inexcusable. He'd told her to go. She shook her head. It all still felt so raw. There was no way she could get through a dinner much less a vacation with Harry and Ginny without blurting out the truth, and she didn't want to do that. She returned her attention to the mail.

Viktor sighed. "I will leave that up to you then. I will send a letter to Todor and Pietra about Greece."

"That sounds good." A letter caught her eye. "Speaking of Todor and Pietra." She held up the elaborate envelope. "I bet I know what this is."

Viktor grinned and reached for the envelope that was addressed to both of them. "Finally." He opened the invitation and held it up for Hermione to see. "They're getting married next October."

She smiled back at him. "I'll clear my calendar."

"This has been a long time coming," Viktor said. "I'm so happy for them."

Hermione nodded. "Me too."

xXx

The next morning when the owls arrived with the post, Hermione noticed a large envelope from Bobo. She opened it to find a copy of the photo of her and Viktor. He had already left for work, but he'd be pleased to see it when he got home. She thought about their conversation last night and how casual he'd been about her relationship with Ron. He didn't appear to have a jealous bone in his body. She sighed. How different from Ron.

When Bobo had first put the private room together, he'd invited the three of them to come to dinner on the house. Harry had brought Ginny and the four of them had gone out for their first real date after the war. When the pictures originally popped out, there were so many of Harry that the one of her and Viktor got lost in the shuffle so no one noticed it at first, but as dinner went on, Ron noticed. He'd actually dropped his fork. Hermione had tried to play it off, but she knew he was fuming inside. When they finally made it back to their flat over his brothers' shop, he let loose, shouting at her about her sneaking around as though the photo had been taken last week and not years ago when they weren't even a couple. She'd let him rant, recognizing that it had more to do with how disoriented he still was from his injuries and less to do with the photo. In retrospect, perhaps that hadn't been the right choice. Maybe she should have argued with him and told him what a prat he was being, because once he'd ranted himself out, he'd stormed down to the pub, where he spent most nights after that. She shook her head to clear away the memories. There was no sense going over the past. What was done, was done.

xXx

Three weeks later, Hermione stood on the terrace of a villa on a Greek island in the Mediterranean. The ocean was azure blue and the air was still warm even in October. The island was owned by the wizard who was putting together the new Greek Quidditch team, and Viktor and Hermione had it all to themselves until Todor and Pietra arrived.

Viktor came outside and handed her a gin and tonic. "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful."

"The Greek team was very grateful for my help. This was their owner's way of saying thanks."

"It's a good way." Hermione smiled at him before sipping her drink.

"I think so too."

She sighed contentedly and decided to change the subject. She needed to talk to him about the Quidditch pitch cushion. She wasn't sure why she'd put it off, she'd been free to talk about it for a few days. "Viktor, about Quidditch..."

He raised his eyebrows.

"There's something I should tell you."

He looked at her expectantly.

"Remember when I said I had a second project at work, a smaller project?"

"Yes."

"Right, well, I completed it, and I've been given permission to release it under my own name since it's not really within the scope of the Department of Mysteries. Anyway, I've got a meeting with the International Quidditch Association board next week."

His eyes went wide. "What is the project?"

"It's a cushion."

Viktor cocked his head. "A cushion?"

She smiled at him. "Yes. It's a reactive cushion that covers the entire pitch, so that if a player falls off a broom the cushion will help prevent injuries."

He frowned. "How thick is it? Won't that prevent tactics like the Wronski Feint?"

"No. I know that's one of your signature moves, so I designed it to only be a few millimeters thick unless contact is actually made."

"It's been tested?"

"Yes. They've been using it at Hogwarts for the last three weeks, and they're thrilled with it. I'll be meeting the IQA board at the school Quidditch pitch so they can see it in action. I expect they'll like it. It should save them a lot of Galleons in injuries."

"And you're sure it won't interfere with games?" Viktor said skeptically.

"It shouldn't, but I'm sure they'll want to do a trial run with a professional team. I was rather hoping that would be Puddlemere United."

Viktor's eyes widened. "Um…"

"Just during practice to start. Pros play a lot differently than kids or club teams do. You're the real test."

He took a deep breath. "I suppose I could ask the coach."

She slipped her hand under his T-shirt and up his chest. "I'd really appreciate that."

He gave her slow smile. "How much would you appreciate it?"

She smiled back at him. "Very much."

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her.

xXx

Hermione woke at four o'clock the next morning. What had started on the terrace had finished in bed and they'd both fallen asleep by eight o'clock. Viktor was still sound asleep next to her. He'd had a grueling practice schedule lately and really needed the break. She slipped out of bed as quietly as she could and held out her hand for her dressing gown and wand. They both came sailing at her as she stepped out of the room closing the door behind her. The villa was an open floor plan with a central great room that encompassed the kitchen, dining room, and living area that was surrounded by four bedrooms each with ensuite bathrooms. The kitchen was separated from the living and dining areas by a long bar. The living area opened on to the terrace which was wider than the house and overlooked the sea. She didn't want to risk waking Viktor by taking a shower, so she cast a cleaning charm instead and went into the kitchen to make tea. It was still dark outside, so she took candles along with some parchment and a quill to work at the kitchen table until Viktor got up. She'd dreamed about Apparition, and had some ideas she wanted to record before they slipped away from her.

xXx

Viktor found her there a few hours later. The sun was coming up and the parchment was full of long columns of Arithmancy as well as extensive notes. He stepped behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders as he leaned over and looked at the parchment. "Are you working? We are on holiday."

She set down her quill and rolled up the parchment. "It's nothing. I just had some ideas I wanted to get down on paper."

He sat down next to her. "That is a lot of math. Is this about that Apparition trick with the map?"

She frowned at him. "The map trick you've never seen me do?"

He smiled at her. "Yes, that one."

She pursed her lips and looked at him for a moment. "No. I didn't get permission to pursue that. It's too difficult."

"I do not understand. I saw you do it."

"No, you didn't," she said with a frown. "But even if you did, only about half of us could do it. All Unspeakables have to be able to perform a piece of practical magic for it to get approval to move forward."

"Oh. You are very powerful then."

"We're all very powerful, but we each have aspects of magic that we're particularly good at. I'm very gifted at Apparition for example, but not that great at other things."

"Like what?"

She sighed. "Well, you know I'm bad on a broom."

"Right," he said, "but what else? It seems to me that you can do anything you like."

"No. I'm not great at Legilimency. I can manage it a bit, but I have a hard time interpreting what I see. I'm a little better at Occlumency, but again, not great."

"Is that all? Three things?"

She snapped her fingers and a cigarette appeared, which she lit with another snap. "There are other things I've never tried doing because they're associated with the dark arts."

Viktor leaned back in his chair. "What about charms?"

She blew out a long stream of smoke. "I've yet to come across a charm I can't do."

He smiled. "And transfiguration?"

"Same."

"How many languages do you speak?" he asked.

"Fluently? Four. You?"

"Seven. What about potions? You seem to make most of them rather than buy them."

"I'm good at potions, but more through study rather than any kind of innate affinity for the subject. Had things not worked out with the Department of Mysteries, I doubt I would have gone for potioneer. I've never created a potion. I've always used a recipe. I mostly make my own, because I can, and it's so expensive to buy them."

"Very thrifty. What would you have done?"

"I'm not sure, but probably the Ministry's regular Research and Development Department."

"Really? There is a lot of money to be made in charmed objects."

"I know, but money isn't much of a motivator for me. I think I'd get bored doing that kind of work long term."

He paused and thought for a minute. "Did you even get to graduate?"

McGonagall allowed me to complete my studies in the hospital while I recovered. She was very kind and brought me books and administered the exams for me. What's with the quiz?"

He shrugged. "I sometimes feel like I do not know so much about you."

Hermione was taken aback. "What do you mean? We talk all the time."

"About things, not so much about us."

"Okay."

He rested a hand on hers. "That is not a complaint. Only an observation."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

He squeezed her hand and leaned forward. "All I am saying is that we do not talk much about the past or the future. Always it is right now."

"What's wrong with living in the moment?" Hermione asked, starting to get irritated. "I don't want to be bogged down in the past, and who knows what the future holds? We're here right now. Why can't that be enough?"

He gave her a sad smile and kissed her hand. "It is enough. Forget I said anything." He went back inside.

Hermione watched him go and sighed. She didn't understand what he wanted from her. They were having fun. The beginning of their relationship had been so traumatic, she was enjoying the relative calm of just being in the moment, but he clearly wanted more. She stubbed out her cigarette and went back inside. "Viktor?"

He looked up from making coffee.

"It's never been my intention to make you feel like I'm hiding anything or avoiding anything."

"I know," he said. "But you work so much and you cannot talk about it. If you cannot talk about work, and you do not talk about the past or the future…" He shrugged.

She sat down on one of the barstools. "I have talked to you about the past. You know how I got the scars and I answered the questions you and Oliver asked about my childhood. I've talked about the war with you. What more do you want from me?"

He sighed and leaned over the counter toward her. "Just conversation."

She sighed. There they were in that lovely home overlooking the ocean and it wasn't enough for him. "Look, I may not have engaged in a lot of girl talk when I was at school, but one thing I do remember is that you're not supposed to talk about your ex."

Viktor smiled. "I am not asking you to tell me about your relationship with Ron. I do not care about that."

"You don't understand, it's impossible to talk about anything significant that happened to me in the last decade without talking about Ron. Ron and Harry were my best friends. We did most things together. Significant things and little things. Everything. I can't talk about me without talking about them."

Viktor cocked his head and looked at her with obvious disbelief. "Everything?"

"We met on the train to school the first day. Our first year, I made Polyjuice potion for them. I set a teacher's cloak on fire for them."

The alarm on Viktor's face was comical. "You did not!"

"I did. I also corrected all their homework and studied with them every day, and in turn they dragged me away from my books for fresh air and sunshine and made me laugh. When Harry's destiny became our destiny, it gave me a sense of purpose. My story is their story. Their story is mine. It's impossible to separate. I suppose I could tell you about vacations with my parents, but it's hard to talk about them too. I'm not deliberately holding anything back. It's just not easy."

He rubbed a hand down his face. "And the future?"

"What future? Are we guaranteed a future? From what I've seen of life, it's a waste of time to plan too far ahead. Every time I've felt like I was on solid footing the rug got pulled out from under me. I can't think about the future right now. All I can manage is today and maybe as far out as a month from now. Anything more just seems pointless." He gave her a sympathetic smile and she wanted to punch him in the face. She didn't need his pity. "I'm going to get in the shower."

He nodded. "Okay."