Chapter 2
Hermione left the hospital still in a state of shock, switching from the lime robes to casual muggle clothing with a flick of her wand. Mia's daycare teacher had been surprised to see her, only half an hour after dropping the toddler off. Hermione managed to explain in a dazed manner, leaving after several congratulations from the staff.
Typically on weekends the mother-daughter duo could be found in the library or bookstores, the love of books passing down to Mia. Sometimes they could be found in the muggle grocer store down the block from their house or at the park.
Hermione glanced down, brows lifting in surprise as she scanned the piece of paper. "Bulgaria?"
"Mama? What Borgary?" Mia's head popped up from where she had been watching her own feet splash through puddles.
"It's where Mama's new job is," she spared the two year old a smile, soon distracted by reading the paper over.
"We go?" Mia seemed excited by the prospect, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.
Hermione tucked the paper into her pocket, ruffling Mia's brown curls fondly before tugging them into a discreet alleyway to apparate.
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Hermione and Mia reappeared with a sucking sensation in the main lobby of Hill Crest's Magical Infirmary. The hospital was much smaller than St. Mungo's, with only two floors and five staff including Hermione.
The lobby was a cozy little room, one wall lined with padded chairs and a coffee table covered in wizard magazines and newspapers. Hermione smiled fondly at the sight of The Quibbler laying on it, turning to take in the room fully. Potted plants hung from the ceiling, Anjelica flowers that swayed slowly in dance.
A check-in desk was situated in a small alcove opposite the seating area, a young woman with olive skin and dark hair glancing up as the pair apparated.
"Can I help you?" A confused but friendly smile crossed the witch's face. It was obvious that neither Hermione nor Mia seemed injured or ill.
"Oh, I'm Hermione Granger, I start tomorrow," Hermione explained, gesturing to her daughter shortly after. "This is Mia, my daughter. She wanted to see where I worked."
"Well isn't she adorable," the woman complimented, smiling kindly at the toddler that had hidden herself behind Hermione's leg. Mia had a habit of being reserved around strangers or even people she already knew. Mia had never quite gotten used to Ron, she seemed to sense subconsciously how much he had resented her.
"Thanks." Hermione shifted Mia, scooping her up into her arms.
"Oh, I'm Tansy Weatherworth," Tansy introduced herself sheepishly. "I can't wait to work with you tomorrow," she exclaimed excitedly, looking as if she would say more when suddenly a young man, whose nose had been replaced with an elephant trunk, stumbled in.
"I should probably get out of your hair," Hermione waved to Tansy, hoisting her daughter and heading out into the chilly Bulgarian winter. The village, Skrino, was much smaller than London but had a small-town vibe that Hermione liked immensely.
"Mama we go in?" Mia suddenly tugged on Hermione's hand, pointing at a tiny grocer store with Cyrillic writing on its signs.
"Alright," the young mother agreed, intrigued by the Bulgarian store and allowing her excited two year old to pull her inside.
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Viktor Krum sighed, rolling his neck in an attempt to ease the soreness that had come from back-to-back practices. After the war, Viktor had returned to Quidditch but had moved away from the hustle and bustle of Sofia, the capitol. The Seeker now lived in the quaint village of Skrino where few followed the sport.
Sure, there was still the odd fangirl that tried overzealously to seduce him, sent him panties in the mail or slipped them into his pocket. Sometimes he still got stopped by kids in the streets to sign autographs but other than that his life was quiet. Viktor couldn't help but wonder if he was lacking something at times.
He had had several relationships since the war's end, though none had amounted to much. They were means to an end, ways of releasing tension and Viktor was a young man. He had had needs that those girls could provide. It was when they wanted more that the Seeker skipped out on them.
Viktor found that something was missing with those girls, they weren't the quiet intellectual type that he had come to look for in every girl. His exes didn't have honey locks that were slightly bushy, or hazel eyes, they didn't have that smile that lit up the room.
Viktor shook his head, getting rid of thoughts of Hermione as he pushed open the door to a tiny grocer store not far from his home.
The Seeker wandered the aisles, not paying much attention but knowing he needed to find the aisle dish soap was kept in. His house elf, Nin, had mentioned they were running low this morning. Viktor had the inkling that if he didn't buy some soon she would use her own wages to procure some.
Viktor had just reached the aisle, not paying attention to the young woman at the end, when she turned and something about her bronze locks caught his attention.
Hermione was different from the last he had seen her, something he had expected given it had been nearly five years since they had last been together. She was taller with a more reserved air, not shy per say but solemn with some unidentifiable weight. Her hair was no longer as bushy, albeit a bit frizzy, falling in thick ringlets to her waist. Her face had lost its childhood roundness, taking on mature angles while her body had filled out into a woman's.
It was then that she glanced up, hazel eyes locking on him and her brows drawing in slightly with confusion and hope. Viktor worried for half a second that she wouldn't recognize him.
He had just opened his mouth to say something, to ask her if she had forgotten him so easily, when her body slammed into his, arms clutched around his torso in a bone crushing hug that he gladly returned.
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Hermione had often wondered of where and what Viktor was up to, every now and again she would see news of his Quidditch career in The Daily Prophet. His picture had always given her a small shock but it was nothing to seeing him in person.
Hermione had figured the two would likely never see each other again, him living in Bulgaria and she in Britain. Viktor was a fond memory, one she couldn't seem to forget, and despite what they might have had; Hermione tried to move on with her life. She couldn't pine after him forever, she had had Ron and a war and now Mia.
Merlin, he's tall, was the first thing to cross her mind upon seeing him in the tiny grocer store. Viktor had grown quite a bit since their last encounter. He had always been a bit hunched in the shoulders, duck footed in the way that only those comfortable in the sky could be. Viktor had been lanky during her fourth year but he was no longer so, he had become a man.
In place of gawky teenage disposition was a confident air, probably an effect of the two feet he had grown and the abundance of sheer muscle. His features were the same but aged; his nose still hooked from taking a Bludger too many to the face, his lips still held in that ever present indifference. His features had always been sharp, many would find them too much so, but to Hermione they had always been attractive in a manly, rugged sort of way.
Before she knew what she was doing, the young witch had crossed the aisle and had flung herself into him, hugging what she could reach of him.
"Viktor, I can't believe, I don't," Hermione stumbled in her eagerness, pulling back to beam up at him excitedly.
"Herm-own-ninny, you need to take a breath," Viktor chastised, the mispronunciation of her name sending a small thrill though her. It had been too long since she had heard her name that way.
Hermione took in a deep breath, releasing it dramatically to make Viktor chuckle. "It's been too long. I've missed you," Hermione admitted softly, honestly. She twisted her fingers nervously, afraid she was revealing too much.
They had lost contact in the war, knowing it was dangerous to keep a relationship with Voldemort out for blood. The knowledge didn't stop Hermione from missing him, nor did it keep her from getting her hopes up every time an owl arrived for her; only to be disappointed when it bore no mail from her Bulgarian.
"I haff missed you too," Viktor smiled, reaching out to stop her wringing hands.
"How hav-" Hermione was cut off by the pitter patter of Mia's tiny converse as she toddled over, having been browsing the colorful bottles lining the shelf. Viktor hadn't seemed to take notice of her quite yet, no doubt unable to see the small girl behind the shopping cart.
"Mama, what this? Can I try?" Mia held out a bottle of Bulgarian soda, grape flavored if Hermione was still able to read Cyrillic correctly.
"That is soda, and no, you definitely don't need this," Hermione crouched next to Mia, extracting the bottle from her hands gently.
"It pretty," Mia pointed to the display of glass bottles containing different flavors of soda.
"It is," Hermione laughed lightly at her daughter's antics. She stood, realizing that Viktor was staring down at the mini-Hermione with shock.
"Viktor," Hermione caught his attention with a sheepish smile, twisting the bottle of soda nervously in her hands, "this is my daughter, Mia."