Hermione stepped out onto the street of a magical town nestled in a hidden valley and opened her black parasol to shade herself from the harsh sunlight. Despite it being summer, the day was chilly and snow dotted the peaks around them. It was a beautiful area. The buildings were distinct and the important ones were brightly colored, likely so they could be seen in morning fog or snowy days. She kept a brisk pace and walked towards the Quidditch Stadium on the edge of town. Even from here, she could see the Sofia Lions practicing. Though they represented the Capital of Bulgaria, they couldn't actually practice within the city itself, so they were hidden here in Malkasofia. An all magic town hidden in the Rila mountain range to the south. Not a big mountain range, but enough for wixen to work with.

Esperanza must've really loved Viktor to give up her eternal summers for this constant chill.

Taking a deep breath, she walked towards the stadium. The players were there, flying around like birds in the sky. She was glad, she'd hate to try and find his house. Hailing him down at work would be easier than wandering the residential streets and hoping she found his house.

The people in the town noticed her, but nobody stopped her or anything like that.

The doors to the stadium were open. It still looked new and she remembered Viktor saying that the place was kind of dumpy when he was signed on. The Firebolts they had flown at the World Cup three years ago were bought with a loan, but getting into second place won them enough funds to pay for those brooms and fix up the stadium with state of the art training equipment, new seats, a paint job, and gold scoring hoops. She wondered what winning the entire thing would have gotten them as well as if the money came through the government or was collected via World Cup ticket and merchandise sales.

Probably both.

There was a guard standing by the doorway to the stands.

He spoke in Bulgarian and held up a hand. No entry.

Hermione tried to speak, to tell him she was Viktor's friend. The cousin to his fiancée. Her words didn't come. She frowned and sighed. He probably wouldn't have let her in anyway, he probably got a dozen of those a day. She held out her hands and sat down on a bench to wait for her friend. Esperanza wouldn't be here, she and her newly hot pink hair (which was at the top of Witch Weekly's "Hot" List) were on tour.

She sifted through her IMNs and found the one for Harry.

Safe, she wrote and put it away in favor of taking out her Walkman.

There was no way she could sit here with her thoughts for an hour. She turned up her Fleetwood Mac tape and folded her hands in her lap. She wasn't in any immediate danger here. Why would they suspect her of apparating from Scotland to Bulgaria? It wasn't public knowledge that she had apparated to Kauai over the winter holiday.

The guard kept looking at her suspiciously, but as she was not doing anything except sit there, he couldn't kick her out. The sun drifted below the mountain and cast everything in blue shadow, baubles of light filled up the hallway and everything seemed much too soft and gentle.

Soon enough, the doors opened and people with passes filtered out into the corridor. Some were partners to the players, others appeared to be reporters, and there was a gaggle of fans chattering excitedly all with shiny passes around their necks. Either they paid to get there or won a sweepstakes. Hermione tried not to judge, she was sure there were things she'd pay to even get the privilege of watching the practice of. Hell, she would have paid anything to see a Selena concert with a backstage pass.

"THERE HE IS!"

The girls took off like a shot towards the players leaving the changing rooms. Viktor wasn't among them. Hermione furrowed her brow and caught his signature outside the building. She looked out the window and saw him hurrying along. He couldn't run. His feet were too damaged for him to run well, so he was doing a funny little gallop.

She left through the doors and hurried to catch up. She stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled sharply, making him turn around.

"Nia!" he said and stopped so she could catch up. He gave her a huge hug and kissed her cheek. "Are you alright my friend?"

She tried to speak again, but nothing came out. Her throat wasn't sore from fire-breathing and it wasn't the same kind when her stutter hit. Her voice simply seemed… gone.

"I was attacked," she signed.

"I see," he said. "It's alright. You can stay and rest as long as you like. Come."

It wasn't a terribly long walk to get to his house, but it was on a separate road and sort of secluded. Private. The wards against intruders stretched far enough away that he could probably spend time outside his house without worry of paparazzi. The tree-lined path had a gentle ramp leading up to a beautiful house. It was colorfully painted a bright bluish-green and had red and yellow trim along the edges with bright sunflower facades and cerulean shutters. On the porch was a swing and a small table, hanging up was something that looked like a wind chime except instead of bells, there were seven spoons that radiated with magic.

The property was surrounded by a white picket fence and beautiful flowers and shrubbery. Like something out of a fairytale. The wards shimmered like a bubble, turning the entire place into a picturesque snowglobe.

Viktor unlocked the door.

"Shoes off, please," he said.

The inside was just as warm and inviting as the exterior. Hermione sat down on the bench by the door and unlaced her boots, gasping in surprise when a dog ran up to her and tried to climb into her lap. It was a wiry little thing with white and black fur, three legs, a missing eye, and half a tail that wagged furiously.

"Meatball! We do not jump on guests," Viktor scolded.

"New dog?" Hermione asked.

"Yes." He scooped up the little thing and tipped his head out of the way of puppy kisses. "I found her in dumpster in Sofia. Would you like tour of house?"

"Please."

The house was bigger than she expected. He had a parlor for guests to sit and chat plus a living room that had a radio in the corner, shelves lined with books, and a half-done puzzle on the coffee table. There was a dining room with a long table and ten dark-wood chairs with pink cushions and delicate designs on the back. The kitchen, which had a solarium attached, overlooked a beautiful and productive garden which had three chocolate colored chickens pecking around a coop made out of an old car. Also in the garden were two trees twisted together, one half bearing peaches while the other still had apple blossoms.

"There is interesting story behind that tree," said Viktor. "The original owner planted both side-by-side after building this house for his wife. She loved apples, he loved peaches. He tended them until they became entwined and continued to grow together. I bought house from his son, the place was broken down and not cared for after his mother died. I kept as much of original house as I could when renovating."

"It's beautiful," signed Hermione, admiring the kitchen which was very obviously modeled after the one at the D.R. home with a tiled backsplash and yellow cabinets.

"I bought these tiles from a man in Egypt," said Viktor. "He handcrafts each one. And those chairs are from a carpenter. He was staying at the shelter I opened up, it used to be hotel but they had money problems, so I bought it and converted it to homeless shelter then went and invited homeless in surrounding areas to stay there for free. Bus takes them to jobs. Anyway, he lost his business due to mega-store pricing him out. I bought chairs, now he works out of garage and people buy from him. There is more to see."

He was excited to show his house, but more in the way that he got to talk about the origins of the things and the interesting people who supplied them. Not to brag or prove how rich he was, though it was obvious he had money. He was just very excited to talk about craftspeople.

He showed her the cellar which had a second kitchen plus an extended pantry with non-perishables. There was another room down there with home gym equipment and a recording studio for Esperanza to make demos in.

"Feel free to help yourself to anything in the house," said Viktor, showing her upstairs. "You find it, you eat it. My bedroom is through that door on separate level, this level is guestrooms and office."

Hermione pointed up the staircase spiraling upwards to a trap door.

"That is Esperanza's work room," he said. "She does not like it to be disturbed as she knows I'll be inclined to clean it." He sighed heavily. "That was dark day in the household."

Hermione smiled lightly. Esperanza did have the organized chaos method.

"Feel free to have this room," he said, opening a door. "It has own bathroom and fireplace. You may stay as long as you like."

The room was pretty with a bold yellow, pink, and blue color scheme. The shapes in this room were abstract rather than floral, though a vase of silk Gerber daisies sat on the fireplace mantel. Really the whole house pushed bright and bold, the only soft room being the parlor downstairs. Hermione set her purse down on the bedside table, taking out a blank notebook and pen before hanging her hat up on the row of hooks by the wardrobe.

Viktor looked at his watch. "I have to get to the shelter, but please make yourself at home. I am glad you are here, even if circumstances are not the best."

He turned and headed back downstairs.

"Keep an eye on things, Meatball," she heard him say. "Make sure Nia has company while I am gone."

No wonder Esperanza regretted a five-year touring contract when this was her home. If it were Hermione's, she wasn't sure she'd ever want to leave. It wasn't late at all, though the odd placement of the town plus the trees did make it seem darker for the time it actually was. She tapped the suncatcher hanging in the window before climbing onto the bed. The comforter was plush and probably needed for how chilly it got at this altitude. She didn't get beneath it, she just curled up on her side.

Claws clacked on the hardwood floors and thumped on the rugs. Meatball, despite only having one back leg, managed to jump onto the bed and curl up in the crook of her leg. Hermione sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

~o0o~

Three days after she arrived, she was minding the stew Viktor was simmering since that morning. He asked her to stir it every hour, so she was and had decided to make bread as well to pass the time. Her cooking knowledge from Hogwarts amazingly hadn't left her, though she had made a bit too much and was now taking loaf after loaf out of the oven until the kitchen table was covered with cooling bread. Thankfully, he had another fifty pound sack of flour in the pantry.

The door opened.

"Something smells good," said Viktor, announcing himself in the process. He entered the kitchen as Hermione was taking another tray out of the oven. "Ah, I see you are opening bakery."

Hermione smiled sheepishly and looked over his shoulder to see Fleur. She had a suitcase in hand and a medical mask covering her face. Her normally shiny hair seemed lank and lackluster.

Hermione set the tray down and ran over to give her a hug.

"Allô, Nia," said Fleur. "I did not realize you were here."

Hermione shrugged. "Keep my head down. You?"

Fleur tipped her head. "Your voice."

"She is not talking right now," said Viktor. "I think we only need one loaf of bread for dinner, but I can take the rest of these to the other kitchen. They look beautiful and smell delicious."

"Thank you."

Hermione placed the last batch of bread into the AGA. She had spent ten minutes trying to figure out how to preheat when she realized it was already on. It was always on. Her first four loaves had been tossed out to the compost heap.

"I am just going to give Fleur a tour," said Viktor. "I told you tonight was my turn to host potluck, yes?"

He might've told her, but she didn't remember. Either way, she knew now so she nodded.

"Good. Everyone will be here in two hours. Can you do me favor and feed Meatball?"

Hermione nodded and did that as well as pack up the loaves of bread while Fleur got the grand tour of the house. Viktor came back down.

"I will be right back," he said, picking up the box and leaving to take it to the hotel.

Hermione nodded and went to the living room to get back to her book. Fleur came down, still wearing the mask, and sat next to her. Hermione picked up her notebook and handed it to Fleur.

"Are you O.K.?"

Her friend read it and sighed. "Everyone is treating me different and I could not stand it. So I showed up and Viktor said I could stay as long as I like. He is such a good man."

Hermione nodded in agreement and wrote another note. "How long?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe when I get used to my face," she said. "I still do not know how the werewolf blood will effect my veela blood and here is safe. I have cousins here who could take me in and I actually arrived to reach out to them, but Viktor spotted me first and thought I was here to see him. I could not correct him. His house is—"

She cut herself off and winced, hovering her hands over her face.

"If the mask hurts, take it off," Hermione jotted.

Fleur hesitated and removed it, tucking it away in her pocket. The scars had healed quite a bit more, but there were still sections that looked raw and were bandaged. Hermione brushed her fringe back and smiled, writing out another message.

"Bad ass."

Fleur smiled half-heartedly and leaned against her. "You have to say that, you are my maid of honor. Though I worry if Bill will change his mind."

"Then you'll have dodged a bullet because you are worth more than a man who only loves your exterior."

"Your handwriting is terrible," said Fleur. She sighed and cuddled closer. "Thank you. I know I may not be yours, but you are my best friend, Nia."

Hermione squeezed her hand. She still valued Fleur as a close friend. She just couldn't tell her what she had done. She refused to tell anyone. Not even her own family. She couldn't tell them.

Viktor entered the house. "They were very happy with the bread. Thank you for baking today, Nia."

"No problem," Hermione waved.

Fleur put her mask back on when guests started arriving. Viktor hosted a potluck for his friends once a month and that happened to be this evening. They were on the Quidditch and Dance teams, but also some were members of S.A.M.B. Viktor was a wonderful host, making sure there were snacks and drinks set out while they waited for everyone to arrive.

The veela Bily, Rositsa, and Pavla arrived accompanied by two Swan Maidens Rayna and Ivan, and two vampires Rabil and Ivet. Plus some of his Quidditch teammates. The Captain and lead Chaser Petya, Chasers Alexandra and Minko, and Beaters Russi and Vanya.

"If I may introduce you to some very close friends of mine," said Viktor. "This is Fleur and Nia. Nia is the founder of S.A.M.B."

"Fleur!" said Bily, going over and hugging her tightly. "It's so good to see you again. Are you feeling alright? What's that mask for?"

Fleur winced. "I had a run-in with a dark wizard, but I did it to save my fiancé. I… I needed some time away from it all."

"Ah," she looked at Nia. "And why are you here?"

"Nia is my Maid of Honor, she is here for moral support."

Hermione turned her notebook around rather than let Fleur cover for her. "I have assassins after me and Viktor's place is safe."

"Oh!" breathed Rabil. "Is it due to S.A.M.B.? These things do make waves, I've seen organizations like yours rise and fall for centuries. Though yours has done a lot in a short amount of time."

"Rabblerouser," she scrawled.

"I remember you!" said Petya. "You were at the World Cup. You interrupted the ceremony to get an autograph for your brother."

"Cousin."

"I don't remember you being mute."

"Well, she was hit with curse before coming here," said Viktor. "But she communicates just fine with sign and a notebook."

The bell rang and he furrowed his brow, drawing his wand before answering the door. "Damyan? Why are you here?"

"I heard you had some lady friends visiting and thought I would drop by and give them a proper welcome."

Viktor hummed. "Nia is deathly allergic to roses, do not bring those inside my house. The wine is fine. Fleur is engaged."

Damyan walked into the room and the reactions ranged from annoyance to barely tolerated. So he was that type. He spotted the two of them and the disappointment was palpable.

"Well join the party then," said Fleur. "We don't bite. Well, Nia does but she's had her shots."

Hermione grinned toothily. Viktor laughed.

"Well, now that everyone is here, let us eat," he said.

The M.B.s chatted with Hermione. Well, they talked and she listened. She liked listening more than talking these days and they were pretty cool people. Fleur grew more comfortable once everyone stopped staring at her face.

"While you're here, you should attend S.A.M.B. meeting," said Ivan after they had finished eating and were chit-chatting before games. "The others would really like to meet woman who set things off."

"I'd be honored," she wrote.

"Hey, Viktor, what does Esperanza think of you bringing two women into your home while she's not here?" asked Damyan.

Eyes rolled and Hermione realized this was a guy who liked causing problems. And he only showed up tonight to flirt with what he assumed would be single, beautiful young women. Viktor frowned.

"She wishes she could be here to greet them," he said. "I don't think I like what you're implying."

"Well, no one will believe you're sleeping with that one," he pointed to Fleur. "But this one is good looking." He looked at Hermione and tipped her chin up. "Very good looking."

She bit him. She was sick of men preying on her insecurities and fragility. He jumped back and cursed, clutching his hand.

"She bit me!" he squawked.

"Well, you were warned," said Bily.

He said something in Bulgarian that was probably very insulting. Viktor stood up.

"You are no longer welcome in my house," he said firmly. "I do not appreciate you speaking of my friends that way. I will show you to the door."

Damyan raged at him and Petya stood to back Viktor up. Hermione didn't regret biting him. He got in her space and now he wouldn't put his hands near her again. She shook her head and flipped open her notebook.

"I apologize for that," said Viktor. "If the evening is not ruined, perhaps we can play some games."

Hermione turned her notebook around. "Not your fault. I like games."

Everyone agreed to a game and they ended up playing Pictionary since Hermione wouldn't be able to participate in Taboo. She wasn't the best artist, but it wasn't about being a good artist, it was about having fun.

Why was she having fun? She shouldn't be having fun. She got someone killed. Why was she pretending nothing was wrong? Why was she messing around baking bread and playing games when she should be doing research on stopping Voldemort?

"Nia?"

She blinked, realizing she had sunk to her knees and Viktor was looking at her concerned.

"I think I should take you to see Healer," he said. "You say you don't know what curse you were hit with?"

"Correct."

He nodded. "There is 24-hour clinic in town. Everyone, I am sorry to kick you out, but I think I should make sure Nia isn't suffering delayed effects from unknown curse."

"Sure, Viktor," said Bily. "I'll be by tomorrow to check on my cousin, is that okay?"

"Yes, it's fine," he said. "Sorry I cannot see you out. Nia, wait here, I will get your cloak."

She stayed as she was. The M.B.s murmured goodbyes to her and filed out. Fleur stayed by her side, keeping an eye on her in case something happened. Meatball was leaning heavily against her. Animals always had a sense about these sort of things.

"Okay," said Viktor. "I have some shoes for you, too."

She pulled the cloak and shoes on and he led her out of the house and side-alonged with her to the clinic in town. It was nice to actually know where it was than be told of a secret location. The staff knew who Viktor was on sight. His fame or the fact that Quidditch players ended up in the hospital more than any other professional athlete was a toss-up.

Hermione paid no attention as Viktor talked to the greeter witch. The waiting room was entirely empty, but she still had to sit down to fill out a chart. Once that was returned, she was called back almost immediately. Unlike St. Mungo's, they had private examination rooms.

A Healer came in and introduced herself as Dr. Georgieva and Viktor spoke. Even if Hermione did speak Bulgarian, she wouldn't actually be able to speak it now would she?

"Alright," said Dr. Georgieva in English. "I'm just going to run some tests. Mr. Zdravkov, you can stay if Miss Sanchez is alright with it. They're non-invasive, very quick."

Hermione nodded and kept very still as the tests were run.

"You have a very dark curse in your eye—"

"That is old," said Viktor. "Nearly three years."

"I see. And the hands?"

"Same incident."

"Broken bones?"

"Past incidences."

"These remnants of an ancient curse?"

"Broken when she was five but members of family have very bad luck three months after birth month."

"I see…" Dr. Georgieva tapped her fingers to her cheek. "How are you even alive, Miss Sanchez?"

Hermione scribbled out a response. "My patronus is a cockroach."

Viktor snorted and shook his head. "Does any of that explain why she can no longer speak? It has been days."

"Well, my diagnosis shows that she should probably be a permanent patient in a hospital," said Dr. Georgieva. "What led up to her being attacked?"

Hermione pursed her lips and looked down at her lap while Viktor briefly explained the attack and that they were specifically out to kill her.

"I see… Then the inability to speak must be psychosomatic."

"What does that mean?" asked Viktor. "That it is all in her head?"

"Not exactly. It is when all other symptoms have been ignored, so mind just flips switches trying to get body to pay attention. It means that something is wrong that may not be immediately clear. I think it is result of trauma to both mind and body. Has she ever done this before?"

"She stutters," said Viktor.

Hermione jotted down another note. "That started about the time I lost my mother."

The woman muttered under her breath in disbelief and shook her head. "I recommend finding good mind healer and taking things slow. Are you Curse-Breaker?"

"She is student," said Viktor.

"Dropped out," Hermione added. "No school will take me. Liability."

"I cannot imagine why," said the Healer. "As it stands, there is nothing I can do except prescribe sleeping potions if you are having night terrors."

Hermione bit her lips. How would that effect Esperanza when she came home? Sleeping Draughts weren't like Morpheus Potions, though they were in the same vein.

"I'll let her think on it and we will reach out if they are needed," said Viktor.

"Of course. Any other concerns?"

"Well, she collapsed, that's why I brought her in."

"She likely had a panic attack," said Dr. Georgieva. "No two attacks look the same. There are some non-magic medications we can put her on for that, and while I am qualified as a Mind Healer, that would require a much longer diagnosis. Would that be alright, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shook her head. She didn't want to talk to a mind healer, she'd be admitted for sure.

"I see. Thank you."

The Healer nodded. "Make sure she takes it slow. Do not try to excite her or startle her."

"Understood."

Hermione wanted to laugh. If only this woman knew what sort of life she led, then she would know that something like that wouldn't be possible for a long time, if ever.