Snippets

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hermione takes a swig from her bottle of butterbeer, multi-tasking by cradling her niece in one arm and her bottle in the other.

"Thank you for taking this trip with me, Ginny," Hermione smiles, thanking her friend for probably the eighth time since their portkey this morning.

Ginny rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Stop thanking me, 'Mione. You know as well as I do that this is more for me than for you," Ginny chuckles, reaching forward and plucking her daughter out of Hermione's arms.

Hermione shrugs, feeling somewhat guilty because Ginny is probably correct in her statement.

"The match is more for you. Seeing Victor is more for me," Hermione compromises, following the crowd into the stadium but veering off and hiking up the stairs towards the seats which correspond with the tickets Victor sent to her.

In his letter which accompanied the tickets, Victor had explained that these tickets were for seats in the family and friends box for Bulgaria. According to Victor, the box is situated directly behind the sideline where the team's coach– a.k.a Victor– will be.

Hermione, followed by Ginny and Lily, finally arrive at their seats after what feels to Hermione like an absolute eon of walking up stairs. Immediately upon her arrival, Hermione is greeted by one of her oldest friends flying right up to the barrier between the seats and the open air of the quidditch pitch.

"Her-min-e!" Victor shouts in an attempt to catch Hermione's attention, as if the presence of Victor Krum could possibly go unnoticed.

Victor, atop his broom, flies as close to the barrier as he can and waves Hermione over to him with a broad smile across his face.

Hermione taps Ginny's hand, silently letting her know that she'll meet her at their seats and heads forward toward Victor.

Victor sidles up next to the barrier and opens his arms to pull Hermione into a tight hug. Hermione wraps her arms around Victor as well as she can while leaning over the barrier and hugs him back tightly.

"Finally," Victor laughs, pressing a kiss to the side of Hermione's head before he releases her and allows her to stand back upright in her box.

"I'm sorry that it's taken so long, Victor," Hermione apologizes, meeting her friend's eye with a frown.

"You are here now, Min," Victor smiles and it reminds Hermione of the fact that she absolutely does not deserve such a forgiving friend like him. "And win or lose, you will let me take you out for dinner."

Hermione glances back over her shoulder to where Ginny and Lily have found their seats before turning her attention back to Victor.

"I'm here with a friend," Hermione explains, gesturing back to Ginny and Lily. "Ginny Potter and my niece, Lily."

Victor shakes his head with a smile on his face.

"Then I will take you and Mrs. Potter and her daughter out for dinner."

Hermione smiles and leans forward to plant a kiss on Victor's cheek, increasingly grateful for her continued friendship with him.

"What did I ever do to deserve such a friend as you?" Hermione gushes, beaming brightly at Victor.

"You did not care that I was famous."

Hermione finishes off the final swig of her second butterbeer as Ginny continues her lecture that she has been on for the previous six and a half minutes.

"All I'm saying, 'Mione, is that I don't believe you," Ginny smirks, hoisting Lily up against her chest and patting her back gently.

"You don't believe me about Victor or about Draco?" Hermione scoffs, rolling her eyes and slumping back in her stadium chair.

"Either of them," Ginny responds, twisting in her seat to face Hermione directly. "I don't believe that you didn't hook up with Draco when you two disappeared from the gala, and I don't believe that you don't realize the way that Victor still looks at you."

Hermione exhales and rubs her palm against her forehead.

"I told you what happened with Draco. He brought me up to his office and we talked– and he told me that we couldn't be friends anymore. And before you ask, no, I haven't heard from him since," Hermione states, wishing that Ginny– her professional quidditch player friend– would just pay attention to the game rather than what did or did not happen in that room at the gala. "And Victor doesn't look at me in any special way. We are friends. We have both long since moved on from our brief relationship well over a decade ago."

Ginny doesn't respond immediately. To Hermione, she almost looks as if she is daydreaming before she shakes her head violently and bursts into laughter.

"Sorry, 'Mione, I was just picturing you and Draco holed up in his office while there was a whole gala going on downstairs. Did you guys pull down the blinds on his office door or just risk it?"

Hermione sighs.

"Stop picturing things. We didn't need to pull down the blinds because we were both fully dressed the entire time."

Ginny waves her hand as if dismissing Hermione's statement.

"Look, all I'm saying, 'Mione, is that there are two bloody fit wizards who look at you like you hung the stars, and yet you're just friends with both of them."

In this moment, Hermione's mouth works faster than her brain does, and she realizes her mistake almost immediately.

"Victor and I are just friends," Hermione yelps, exasperated. She realizes belatedly that she decidedly does not make that statement regarding Draco.

"Right, but you and Draco aren't?" Ginny asks, immediately following up her own question with a response. "Oh, right. You and Draco are not friends, right?"

Hermione sighs again, wishing that she had bought a third butterbeer.

"I can't tell you what happened, Gin," Hermione breathes, biting her lower lip. "It's personal."

Ginny narrows her eyes in thought for a moment before she responds.

"More or less personal than the vision of you two shagging against a wall?"

Hermione crosses her arms over her chest and eyes Ginny pointedly.

"Gin."

Hermione, Ginny and Lily arrive home from Bulgaria in the evening, the day following the quidditch match. Their portkey from Bulgaria had taken them to the Ministry, from where they floo'd back to 12 Grimmauld Place.

Upon their arrival in Ginny's parlor, the trio are greeted by the bouncing bodies of the remainder of Ginny Weasley-Potter's children.

"Mum!" Albus shouts, throwing his arms around his mother's waist. "I missed you!"

Ginny chuckles lightly but rubs the back of her son's head gently all the same.

"I was gone for one night," she states, shaking her head but smiling brightly down at her child.

While Hermione and Ginny were walking back to their hotel after their dinner with Victor the night previous, Ginny had confided in Hermione that she has been considering stepping away from quidditch– professionally, at least. She said that since being on maternity leave that the time that she has spent with her children has been invaluable. She even said that she plans to discuss it with Harry, but Hermione knows that Harry will be happy with whatever choice makes his wife happy.

"Come on, Mum and Aunt 'Mione! Dinner is ready!" James grumbles from behind his younger brother.

Hermione and Ginny exchange a look. As far as the two of them were aware, they would be scrounging up dinner when they returned, so to hear that it has already been prepared is a shock– a pleasant shock, but a shock nonetheless.

When Hermione and Ginny, along with Lily, Albus and James return to the kitchen, Hermione is surprised to see that it is not just Harry who is waiting for them. Ron, Padma and Priya are also gathered around the dining table.

"We haven't had a family dinner in a while," Harry shrugs, pushing his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose.

Hermione takes a seat beside Padma and holds her hands out for her friend to pass her niece to her. She takes Priya into her hands and cradles her against her chest similarly to how Ginny is still holding Lily.

Dinner begins and conversation flows easily. Hermione finds herself grateful in this moment for her friends– her found family. Without her parents– and especially in light of her… illness– she has had to learn to rely on those who show up for her. Harry, Ron, Ginny and Padma have continued to show up for her every day in one way or another since she told them about her visions. They continued to care for her even after she told them that she was having visions about Draco Malfoy.

This fact is why Hermione decides to broach her next subject with her family after dinner, once the two older children have trotted off to their rooms to play after sitting still at the dinner table patiently throughout the meal.

"I'm going to ask Healer Greengrass to continue my treatment," Hermione states, a finality in her voice, as she rests both of her forearms on the table in front of her after passing Priya across the table to her father.

Hermione's heart beats loudly in her ears for a moment as she watches every pair of eyes around her widen to the size of saucers.

"I'm sorry. The treatment that fried your brain and incapacitated you for a week? You want to get back on that broom?" Ginny questions, incredulously.

"I have to," Hermione sighs, averting her eyes from her friends' and staring at a rogue carrot which somehow escaped Albus' plate and is still sitting in the center of the table.

Hermione has considered this carefully. She knows that she is taking a massive risk, but she believes that in this case, the ends will justify the means.

"Hermione, honey, are you certain about this?" Padma asks, as usual, breaking out her Healer voice for this conversation.

Hermione nods, looking to her left at her friend.

"I am. I-I can't live like this anymore," Hermione frowns as a slight burning sensation pricks her sinuses and tears spring to her eyes. "The visions. They're still happening– nearly daily. I can't keep watching the vision-version of myself be in love with him when he ended our friendship just a couple of weeks ago at the gala."

From across the table, Ron scoffs– loudly.

"So, this is about Malfoy. You want to risk another coma– because of Malfoy," he states, blatantly rolling his eyes at Hermione. "I warned you. I told you that trusting him was a mistake."

Hermione barely registers how it happens, but in the next moment, she is standing and her chair is clattering to the floor behind her.

"Trusting him was not a mistake, Ronald! He's a good man. You don't even know him!"

Hermione isn't quite sure where this outburst has come from but it is clear that it surprises at least three out of the four adults surrounding her. On the face of one Ginevra Weasley-Potter, though, is a look of pure self-satisfaction.

"Oh, Merlin," Ron snarks. "You like him. You've gone and fallen for the bloody Death Eater!"

Hermione opens her mouth to retort, but Harry cuts in first.

"That's enough, Ron," Harry's voice booms uncharacteristically. "You don't get input into who Hermione likes anymore. Sorry, Padma."

Hermione shifts her eyes slightly to her left, angling for a response from her aforementioned friend. Hermione always feels somewhat uncomfortable when her prior relationship with Ron is brought up around Padma, but the dark-haired witch always seems to take it in stride. She seems to be confident and comfortable in her marriage to Ron, and Hermione admires that.

"Don't be. I agree with you on this," Padma replies to Harry, shrugging her shoulders. "Harry's right, dear. None of us get a say in Hermione's romantic prospects except for her. Though, if we did, Healer Malfoy would have my vote."

Ginny nods in agreement.

"Mine too," the redheaded witch concurs.

Hermione notices, from across the table, that Harry seems at war within himself for a moment before he, too, speaks.

"And mine."

Hermione doesn't know what to think or how to respond in this situation. Every one of her friends who, at one time in the not-so distant past, would've been outraged at the thought of Draco Malfoy (or any of Voldemort's sympathizers, really) are now casting their votes in favor of him– and by extension, the possibility of Hermione having feelings for him. If Hermione didn't already feel like her life has become somewhat paradoxical, she would've been certain that she was dreaming in this moment.

Now, Hermione supposes that she needs only to decide if she would, too, cast her vote for Draco– and she isn't really surprised when her first instinct is undoubtedly yes.

Hi, friends! Happy Tuesday! (:

Y'all! We broke 100 followers on this fic just this morning! How exciting is that! Thank you all so much for following and supporting, and if you haven't followed this fic, this is your reminder to do so! (:

Also, I just noticed while I was uploading this chapter, I have over 70 documents uploaded to this account at the moment, which makes sense based on the amount of multi-chapter fics I've written lately, but my goodness! That's a lot! Especially when I consider the fact that I really only started writing regularly again a little over a year ago. That's wild to me. If you've read all 70 of those one-shots/chapters of my multi-chapters, props to you. That's amazing! :P

If you're interested, this Friday I will be uploading a short one-shot (Fremione) that I am actually really happy with. There's a lesson in it and I really like the way it turned out. So, check that out when it goes live if you're interested. (:

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