Viktor offered Hermione his hand as they followed the hunched figure of the hag through the mist-shrouded forest. The crooked trees seemed to loom over them, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers.
"Excuse me," Hermione called out. "Could you please tell us where we're going? I really need to talk to you. I was wondering if you could tell me about the potion you sold me. Did you happen to use Agrippa as a binding agent?"
The hag cackled but didn't slow her pace or turn around.
The old woman was strangely agile for someone her age and hunched frame. She navigated through the forest with ease.
"Always so many questions with you, dearie," the hag croaked. "Patience is a virtue, you know."
Hermione bit her lip, fighting the urge to snap back. She glanced at Viktor, who gave her a reassuring nod. His large fingers squeezed hers, helping soothe her frayed nerves, if only slightly.
What she needed were answers.
They continued their trek through the dense undergrowth, the mist growing thicker with each step. What if this was a trap? What if the hag led them to their doom? What if she was leading Viktor into more trouble? She gripped her wand tightly, her other hand holding onto Viktor's as if he were to vanish into thin air.
After what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, they emerged into a small clearing. In the center stood a dilapidated cottage, its thatched roof sagging and windows dark. The hag shuffled towards the door, pushing it open with a creak.
"Come in, come in," she cackled, disappearing into the gloom.
Hermione hesitated at the threshold, her instincts screaming at her to turn and run. But they had come too far to back down now.
"It is okay, Her-my-oh-knee. I am here, ve do this together, yes?"
She nodded, taking a deep breath, she stepped inside, Viktor right behind her.
The interior of the cottage was a cluttered mess of shelves, jars, and strange artifacts. Bundles of herbs hung from the ceiling, filling the air with a pungent aroma that made Hermione's head swim. The hag busied herself at a large cauldron in the corner, muttering under her breath as she tossed in various ingredients.
"Now then," the hag said, turning to face them with a toothless grin. "I suppose you're here about that little potion, aren't you?"
Hermione nodded, her throat suddenly dry. "Yes, we need to know-"
"Oh, I know exactly what you need to know, dearie," the hag interrupted, a wicked grin on her face. "But first, tell me, how did you enjoy my little concoction?"
Heat flooded Hermione's cheeks as memories of the library flashed through her mind. Viktor's touch, his lips on her skin, the way he had made her feel... She shook her head, trying to focus.
"That's not- I mean, we're here because-"
The hag cackled again, cutting her off. "Oh, don't be shy now! I can see it written all over your face. And his too," she added, nodding towards Viktor. "My potion did its job quite well, I'd say."
What was she on about?
"Your potion? But I thought... I asked for a magic restoration potion."
"Ah, yes," the hag said. "But you see, dearie, I could tell you needed something else entirely. So tense, so wound up. What you really needed was a good tumble between the sheets!"
Hermione gasped, mortification washing over her. She felt Viktor stiffen beside her, his hand coming to rest protectively on her lower back.
"You... you gave me alovepotion?" Hermione sputtered, indignation rising in her chest. "How dare you! That's- that's completely unethical, not to mention illegal!"
The hag shrugged, seemingly unperturbed by Hermione's outrage. "Love potion, lust potion... semantics, really. Besides, it only works if the attraction is mutual." She waved her wand before setting her gaze on Hermione and Viktor. "And if you are here, it clearly worked, did it not? You can't tell me you didn't enjoy yourself."
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. As much as she wanted to deny it, she couldn't. That night with Viktor had been incredible. Earth-shattering, even. She really did feel as though she could breathe after being underwater for so long. But still, the principle of the matter remained.
"That's not the point," she said finally, her voice shaking slightly. "You had no right to make that decision for me!"
"Perhaps not," she conceded. "But sometimes we need a little... nudge in the right direction. And you, my dear, needed more than a nudge. You needed a good shove!" She laughed.
Hermione felt her face burning, torn between embarrassment and simmering anger. She glanced at Viktor, expecting to see disgust or disappointment in his eyes. Instead, she found him scowling at the hag. He squeezed her hand gently.
"A push? You call drugging me a 'push'?"
The hag shrugged, an infuriating smile still playing on her lips. "Call it what you will, my dear. The fact remains that you took the potion, and it worked its magic."
If she had been with Harry and Ron they would have gone off on the hag, but not Viktor. He let her fight her own battles. He didn't speak for her, nor did he lose his temper. But he still stood by her, waiting for her.
"Vot about the tattoos?" Viktor asked, speaking for the first time since they'd entered the cottage.
The hag's eyes lit up with delight. "Ah, yes! The tattoos! Now that was an unexpected bonus, I must say. You see, the potion has a little... side effect when used by virgins. Which, I must admit, I didn't think was possible for a witch your age!"
Hermione felt as though the floor had dropped out from under her. The hag's words echoed in her ears, each one a fresh blow to her already battered dignity. She wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear.
"That's- that's none of your business!" she sputtered, her voice rising an octave. "And what do you mean, 'side effect'?"
The hag cackled, clearly enjoying Hermione's discomfort. "Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, dearie. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Though I must say, I'm surprised a pretty little thing like you hadn't been plucked already."
Hermione bristled at the crude language, but before she could retort, the hag continued.
"As for the side effect, well, it's quite simple really. The potion creates a... bond, you might say, between the virgin and their first partner. Hence the lovely matching tattoos you both now sport."
A bond? What did that mean exactly? And how permanent was it? She glanced down at the tattoo on her wrist, Viktor's name etched into her skin in elegant script.
"But... but why?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain. "Why would the potion do that?"
The hag shrugged, her bony shoulders rising and falling beneath her tattered robes. "Magic works in mysterious ways, dearie. Perhaps it's a way of marking the occasion, so to speak. Or maybe it's just the universe's way of having a laugh at our expense. Who knows. Who cares."
"I care!" protested the young witch.
There had to be more to it than that. She opened her mouth to press for more details, but Viktor spoke first.
"You said the potion only vorks if the attraction is mutual," he said, his deep voice steady and calm. "Vot does that mean?"
The hag's milky eyes twinkled with amusement. "Ah, clever boy! You're right, of course. The potion doesn't create feelings out of thin air. It simply... lowers inhibitions, shall we say? Brings hidden desires to the surface. But only if those desires already exist on both sides."
Hermione's breath caught in her throat as the implications of the hag's words sank in. She risked a glance at Viktor, finding his dark eyes already fixed on her. The intensity of his gaze made her heart skip a beat. Had he really wanted her all this time? And more importantly, had she wanted him?
As if reading her thoughts, the hag chuckled. "Oh yes, dearies. The attraction was there all along. My potion just gave you the little push you needed to act on it. You can thank me later," she added with a wink that made Hermione's cheeks burn even hotter.
"But- but that's not possible," Hermione stammered. "We barely knew each other. We hadn't seen each other in years!"
The hag fixed her with a knowing look. "The heart wants what it wants, dearie. And sometimes, it remembers things the mind has forgotten."
Hermione fell silent, her thoughts in turmoil. She thought back to the Triwizard Tournament, to the shy smiles and stolen glances she and Viktor had shared. The way her heart had fluttered when he'd asked her to the Yule Ball. Had those feelings really lingered all this time, buried beneath layers of denial and rationalization?
"So," Viktor said, breaking the tense silence. "Can you remove the tattoos?"
The hag's expression turned sly. "Oh, I could," she said, drawing out the words. "But the question is, do you really want me to?"
Hermione's head snapped up. "Of course we do!" she exclaimed, perhaps a bit too quickly. "That's why we came all this way, isn't it?"
But even as the words left her mouth, Hermione felt a twinge of uncertainty. Did she really want the tattoo gone? The thought of erasing Viktor's name from her skin filled her with an unexpected sense of loss. There was something about him that brought something out in her that she liked. He made her feel wanted. Craved.
The hag's knowing smile widened. "Are you sure about that, dearie? Because I'm sensing some hesitation."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. She glanced at Viktor, searching his face for any sign of what he was thinking. His expression was unreadable, but there was a softness in his eyes.
"I... I don't know," she admitted finally.
The hag nodded sagely. "Honesty. Good. That's a start." She hobbled over to a cluttered workbench, rummaging through various jars and vials. "Tell you what. I'll make you a deal."
Hermione tensed, instantly wary. "What kind of deal?"
"Nothing too taxing, I assure you," the hag said. "I simply need an ingredient for a potion I'm working on. Fetch it for me, and I'll give you the means to remove the tattoos. If you still want to, that is."
Hermione exchanged a glance with Viktor. He gave a slight nod, leaving the decision up to her. She took a deep breath, weighing their options. On one hand, they had no reason to trust this woman. On the other, what choice did they have?
She couldn't go around walking with Viktor's name on her wrist. People would think she was some crazed fan.
"What kind of ingredient?" she asked cautiously.
The hag's eyes gleamed with triumph. "Just a simple flower, dearie. The Midnight Bloom. It only grows in the heart of the Whispering Woods, and it only blooms at, well, midnight."
Hermione's brow furrowed. "The Whispering Woods? I've never heard of such a place."
"Few have," the hag replied cryptically. "It's a magical forest, hidden from mortal eyes. But I'm sure a clever witch like you can find your way."
Hermione bit her lip, considering. It sounded dangerous, potentially even life-threatening. But wasn't that par for the course in her life by now?
"And if we get this flower for you," she said slowly, "you'll give us the means to remove the tattoos? No tricks?"
The hag placed a hand over her heart in a mockery of sincerity. "Cross my heart and hope to die, dearie. Though I still think you might change your minds about wanting them gone."
Hermione ignored the last comment, turning to Viktor. "What do you think?" she asked softly. "Should we do it?"
Viktor's dark eyes searched her face for a long moment before he nodded. "If this is vot you vant, then ve do it together."
His words sent a warm flutter through Hermione's chest. Together. It was a simple word, but coming from Viktor, it held so much meaning. He was willing to let her decide.
"Alright," she said, turning back to the hag. "We'll do it. Tell us how to find this Whispering Woods."
The hag's face split into a wide, toothless grin. "Excellent!" she cackled, clapping her hands together. "Oh, this will be fun to watch. Now, pay attention, dearies. The path to the Whispering Woods is not an easy one."
As the hag launched into a convoluted explanation involving moonlight, fairy rings, and speaking in riddles to trees, Hermione found her mind wandering. She glanced down at the tattoo on her wrist, tracing Viktor's name with her finger. The idea of removing it no longer filled her with the sense of urgency it once had. Instead, she felt a strange reluctance, as if erasing his name would mean erasing what they had. As if the moment it was gone, he would be gone too and he would take with him the peace he brought her.
She looked up to find Viktor watching her, his expression soft. As their eyes met, Hermione felt a spark of something ignite in her chest. Whatever happened in the Whispering Woods, whatever they decided about the tattoos, one thing was certain: nothing would ever be the same between them again.