Chapter Nineteen
Silence, Mudblood!
No! Please! NO!
Hermione's eyes flew open as she jolted awake. Trying to will herself to stop shaking, Hermione lay perfectly still and waited for the lingering panic of her nightmare to fade away. It took several minutes but finally her racing heart slowed back down to its normal steady rhythm. Confident enough that she wasn't going to blow up the first thing shadow she saw, Hermione sat up enough to take in her surroundings. At first glance the half asleep witch felt her panic shot back up. None of this was familiar! She wasn't at her apartment!
Hermione leapt up from the couch she seemed to have been sleeping on and made a grab for her wand. In her haste though she forgot to completely remove the blanket wrapped around her feet, and thus ended up in a tangled up heap on the beige rug beneath a near by coffee table. A loud crash also followed. Hermione suspected she may have knocked over a lamp by accident.
Not seconds later Hermione felt the floor rumble with the sounds of someone running. She didn't even have time to get up before a pair of bare feet appeared next to her head. Hermione followed the line of sight upwards and realized that the bare feet were attached to a pair of pajama pant clad legs. And the pajama pant clad legs were attached to a very concerned looking red head.
"Hermione, are you alright?"
The confused witch shook her head a few times to allow her brain to finish waking up. "George?"
"Yeah, who else?" he said helping her up off the floor.
Hermione stared at him blankly as last night suddenly came flooding back to her. George had apparated them back to his place so she could calm down before going home. There was a considerably large amount of more crying, all of it from her, and a long time spent curled up on the very couch she'd slept on. The mug of tea he had prepared for her shortly after they got here last night was still sitting on the coffee table, having long since gone cold. George hadn't pressed her for answers about when she was so upset, nor did he do anything but simply wrap his arms around her while she cried. Not a gesture Hermione would expected from someone like George Weasley. The last thing she remembered was him stroking her hair as she leaned against him for comfort. Hermione blushed vividly. Had she fallen asleep on his chest? Surely not.
Hermione abruptly realized she hadn't answered George and he was looking more concerned by the second at her lack of response.
"I'm sorry," she chuckled and ran a hand through her hair. She dreaded looking in the mirror. It undoubtedly looked horrifying tight now. "I'm always a bit disoriented in the mornings. Especially when I wake up in strange places."
"Oh believe me, I remember," George grinned. "I was about to come wake you but couldn't figure out which way would be safest. I only have one bookshelf and would prefer it not smashed."
Hermione groaned, "You're not going to let me live that down are you?"
"Not for awhile no," he winked and put an arm around her shoulder. "Come on, I made some breakfast."
"You can cook?" she replied as George steered her into the kitchen.
George frowned momentarily, "What? You think I survive on care packages from Mum?"
"The thought had crossed my mind, yes."
George snorted in mock indignation, "Just for that you don't get to have any of the fabulous bacon I made."
Hermione laughed as she took a seat, "Aw, I'm sorry. I take it back."
"Nope, sorry. I'm offended now. No bacon for you."
"Are your delicate senses too offended to allow me a cup of coffee?"
George pretended to mull the thought over for a few minutes. "I suppose not, but I expect to be properly adored for it," he teased and quickly retrieved a mug filled to the brim with the hot beverage. Hermione reached for it greedily and frowned when he kept it just out of her reach. The red head grinned and leaned down. "Well?"
"Well what?" she frowned, casting longing looks at the dark brown ambrosia.
"Where's my thank you?" he asked and tapped the side of his cheek.
Hermione's cheeks heated up again and she laughed nervously. Oh well, couldn't possibly embarrass herself any further than she already had. Leaning forward she pressed her lips quickly to George's cheek, giggling slightly when his morning stubble tickled her nose. George winked back and smoothly handed her the mug.
"You truly are incorrigible, George," she grinned sheepishly and carefully sipped at the steaming brown liquid.
"Again, charmingly persistent," he replied and turned back to plate the bacon and eggs. "Besides, I deserve at least one kiss. Not that I minded you drooling on my chest after you fell asleep last night but I usually reserve that sort of privilege for a third or forth date. For you though I'll make an exception."
Hermione nearly choked on the coffee as her face went flaming red, "I do NOT drool!"
"Tell that to the wet spot on my shirt."
"George!"
George laughed, "I'm just teasing, Mione. You didn't drool on me."
Hermione sighed in exasperation but returned to her coffee.
"You just sweated through one corner of your mouth in a neat circular pattern on my night shirt."
"GEORGE!"
… ~ … ~ …
Sally stared out of the large window in her living room, watching the snow silently fall from the sky. It was a beautiful but frigid morning which saw the blonde unwilling to get out of her warm fluffy bathrobe anytime soon. That, and judging from the past two days, attempting to put on real clothing of any kind seemed to be a useless endeavor anyway. Hugging herself around the middle, Sally thought back to Friday night and wondered how on earth she had gotten to here? How did dinner and a few drinks turn into this? Not that she was complaining exactly, it had been an amazing weekend but in hindsight the whole thing had been a very, very, VERY bad idea. Was she that starved for companionship that she was willing to put her entire career and the fate of two young children on the line? Ms. Granger had dealt with enough custody cases before for Sally to be all to well aware of how badly a father getting caught up in a relationship like this could ruin his chances of being granted custody at all.
And yet when Viktor kissed her at the door on Friday night every rational thought the blonde witch ever possessed up till that point had completely left her mind. Sally rubbed her temple with one hand trying to fight off the head ache that threatened to plague her.
Strong warm arms suddenly wrapped themselves around her waist, and soft lips on her neck put her less than pleasant thoughts to a screeching halt.
"Knut for thoughts?" the Bulgarian behind her murmured into her hair.
"That I am so fired when Miss Granger finds out about this," Sally said before thinking better of it.
Viktor sighed and turned Sally around to face him.
"Herm-own-ninny vould not begrudge you for finding happiness," he said, brushing a wayward blond lock of hair behind her ear.
Sally stepped back and leaned against the wall, "Question is did I actually find happiness or did I find a great weekend and a quick goodbye?" she asked.
Viktor re-closed the space between them and pulled her back into his arms, "I am not half-vay man, Sally. I do not have, as you say 'good veekends und quick goodbyes'. This is not sumting I do ever. Now if you do not vish to continue, I vill respect that und we pretend this never happened. But if you do vish to continue, then I am villing to as vell. Very much villing. You are not much like most vomen I meet in Quidditch business. This I like."
A hesitant smile tugged at Sally's lips. She settled back into his arms and sighed. "I'm not saying no," she said softly. "But do you think we can pick this back up after the case is over? You can't afford to be caught in a scandal. Not with your kids on the line. I'm not worth it."
"Und you saying this right now is vhat makes you vorth it," he smiled and kissed her softly. "But yes, is true. Vaiting till case is over is best."
Sally sighed in relief. "Thank you."
"This 'vaiting' though... must it start now?"
The blonde witch grinned mischievously and ran a finger down Viktor's stubble covered jaw, "I see no reason for it to begin any sooner than it must, so no."
Viktor's already dark eyes grew darker and he descended on Sally for a deep and hungry kiss as he pulled greedily at the knot of her bathrobe belt.
Sally moaned softly as the handsome Bulgarian moved to her neck, both of them blissfully unaware of their audience. On a roof top across the road from the window, a camouflaged figure sat crouched down so as not to be noticed. A smug smile tugged at the man's lips and he raised the object in his hands to his eyes. The rapid clicking of a camera was lost in the sounds of the busy streets below.
… ~ … ~ …
"Alright, alright! I take it back you don't drool!" George laughed as he rubbed the spot on his arm where Hermione had just punched. "Ow! You punch like a guy."
"Hidden talent," she snorted and picked up her coat. "So uh, thank you again for last night, and breakfast. I really appreciated it."
"Any time."
"I suppose I'll see you later then."
"Wait," George said as Hermione reached for the handle of the front door. "Would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow?"
An automatic refusal halted on Hermione's tongue and she stopped for a moment. After everything he had done for her last night, it really was the least she could do in return. Smiling, Hermione pressed another quick kiss to George's cheek before ducking out the door.
"Twelve thirty!" She called while quickly hopping down the stairs. "Don't be late."
A/N: Told ya I was pumped for another chapter! Short and sweet yes, but here none the less ;) R&R!
~Chupip