Chapter 3

Her daughter?

Almost immediately, Viktor knew that this was not Ron Weasley's child. The young girl lacked the vivid red hair that all Weasleys sported, lacked any of his features truly from what he could tell. The child was a small carbon copy of Hermione with silkier hair that fell in baby curls, a cherubic face, and surprisingly steel eyes. They lacked the hardness such metal was renowned for but it was evident that of all the looks bestowed upon Mia by Hermione, she lacked her mother's hazel eyes.

Whose child is she then? Viktor could not recall seeing anything in The Daily Prophet about Hermione dating any other male wizards, though perhaps it was simply that she kept under the radar. Whomever the man was, Viktor reckoned that he was a lucky bastard.

"She's beautiful, I am sure you and your husband are very happy," Viktor smiled, glancing at the bashful child, whom was staring up at him silently as if to evaluate him.

The sound of glass breaking brought him out of it, Hermione crouching down with a curse to stop Mia from attempting to 'help' clean up the dropped soda.

"I'm sorry, so klutzy, so stupid.." Hermione trailed off, mumbling under her breath as straightened with her daughter in her arms.

"It is an accident, Herm-own-ninny. You are not stupid," Viktor argued, brows furrowing at the way she seemed to belittle herself for such a simple accident.

Mia chose that moment to speak, startling both adults with her words. "Are you my Daddy?"

Viktor glanced to Hermione, whose face was burning a scarlet shade. So she is single then.

"I can not say I have the honor. I am Viktor, a friend of your Mum," he corrected, smiling at the child gently ,who to Hermione's disbelief, smiled back childishly.

"Would you care to join me, I could show you the sights?"

Hermione debated the question internally, going with him meant reminiscing which wasn't something she cared to do often these days. Refusing meant parting ways, something she was even more reluctant to do.

"Alright," Hermione agreed hesitantly, momentarily stunned by the beaming smile he turned on her and the overjoyed expression on Mia's face.

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Viktor had insisted upon paying the grocer's manager for the soda, given they were in a muggle store and could not simply use a Reparo spell to fix it. Hermione had tried to rebuff his offer, finally giving in out of exasperation.

Skrino was a charmingly small town, beautiful nonetheless; even in winter. They found themselves in a large library, nearly deserted in the snowy afternoon. The children's section proved to be complete with a play area which Mia dashed into without glancing back.

Hermione settled into a chair nearby to keep an eye on her, nearly forgetting Viktor was there as she relaxed in such a familiar atmosphere.

Small talk soon gave way to more serious subjects, and eventually the war. It was a touchy subject for Hermione, given her torture and attack alongside the deaths of so many loved ones.

"I think the thing I felt most was…alone," Hermione admitted, in response to Viktor's questioning about how she had felt about her part in the war effort.

"Vhy vould you feel alone?" Viktor's brows crinkled as if confused by the statement.

"There's a lot you don't know about the consequences of war, Viktor," Hermione admitted, glancing towards Mia.

No one had truly understood why she kept Mia, none except for Molly Weasley. When the truth came out, there has been so many people making her offers. Offers to help, to have Mia adopted out, to make appointments for abortion, no one had really realized that it was something Hermione had to figure out on her own. There had been too much death, too much pain. It all rested on whether or not Hermione had been able to look past Mia's origins and love her regardless. How had anyone thought she was capable of killing an innocent child?

Molly had understood, had held Hermione when she sobbed, listened when she needed advice or just someone to rant to. Molly hadn't tried to press her into a decision, she had allowed Hermione to make it while supporting whatever she would choose.

"I think I can keep up," Viktor commented, the words might have sounded cocky coming from anyone else. With Viktor, they sounded sympathetic, sincere.

"I lost my parents." It was a start at the very least. The tip of her iceberg of baggage.

"I am sorry," Viktor reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it soothingly. "I lost my father," he admitted, quieter than before.

Hermione said nothing, squeezing his hand back empathetically, no words needed to communicate their mutual grief.

"You are still the same girl, Herm-own-ninny. Var did not harden your heart," Viktor whispered, searching her face for some sign he was right.

"I'm not. I'm not the girl you knew in the Triwizard Tournament," Hermione insisted. Their relationship had been balanced on the tip of a needle point, ending the moment he went back to Durmstrang though they kept in touch.

"Things change," Hermione gestured to Mia who was playing gleefully, unknowing of the solemn conversation taking place only a table away.

"You sound as if you are saying goodbye," Viktor's hand gripped her own more firmly, as if to keep her anchored there. "I do not care if you have a daughter, Herm-own-ninny, I am not that kind of man," Viktor reprimanded, a tone of slight offense coloring his words.

Hermione's lips parted, as if to say something more, when a small curly head appeared next to his elbow. Viktor turned, glancing down at Mia with a kind smile. Before he could say anything to her, the child surprised him once more.

"Don't make Mama sad. Don't like when she sad," Mia mumbled reproachfully. "She get sad at night," she tacked on.

Glancing at Hermione, who would not meet his eyes, Viktor returned to Mia. "Vhy is she sad, malûk?"

"Mama see t'ings in her dreams that make her sad, she cry," Mia stared at her mother with big, round eyes, looking as if she might burst into tears herself.

Hermione said nothing, reaching out and pulling the toddler into her lap with a sniff, holding the tiny frame close in comfort. Mia turned, burrowing into the embrace and burying her face in the crook of Hermione's neck. The display was endearing but Viktor was concerned about what Mia had said. Why was Hermione having nightmares? Who or what caused them?

"I should get her home," Hermione whispered, Mia had fallen asleep in that position. Nodding, Viktor helped her up, before she could go he grabbed her arm gently.

"Please, Herm-own-ninny. Say you vill see me again. I vant to help, let me be your friend," he pleaded, fervently hoping she would say yes.

A surge of relief reached him as Hermione nodded, a guarded look creeping into her eyes. Hopefully with time, he could help remove that look.