Hermione sat in front of the large double paned window and looked out at the expanse of white. She'd been in Bulgaria for two weeks visiting Viktor. Ever since fourth year, they'd been close; writing letters and mailing almost too intimate birthday cards. But Hermione was 31 now and divorced. Viktor had retired from playing almost three years ago. Maybe like in her favorite book Persuasion, they were in the right time and space for romance now.
Viktor came up behind her, holding two mugs of mulled wine.
"It's really coming down. I don't think we'll be able to do the tour of the town I promised." He mused, taking a sip of his wine. There had to be a full meter of snow outside already and it showed no sign of slowing down.
Hermione took the mug he offered to her and lightly sniffed the rising , cloves, and star anise were the main spices she smelt also the fruitiness of the wine. She took a sip, not noticing as the red liquid stained her lips.
The petite woman leaned against the athletic build of her man, still strong from daily training as a coach instead of a player. They watched it snow for a long while, just the hiss and pop of the fire and a record of muggle holiday music playing in the background,
Hermione turned to face VIktor, reaching her free hand up to grasp the back of his head and pull him into a tender kiss.
