Past Present

Hermione pressed her gloved finger into the doorbell and hopped up and down, her breath clouding around her face. "Hurry up, Mum, Dad, we'll freeze out here. The two blocks from the station are the longest two I've ever walked!" Both of them were so cold by now, their teeth chattered.

"Honey! Come on in, you'll catch your death of cold out there! You too, Viktor!" Mrs. Granger propped the door to let them in. "Let me go get you two some towels and hot chocolate or something to warm you up while you get rid of your coats, you're soaked to the skins!" she called, walking out of the small mudroom toward the living room and kitchen.

"Explain to me again why Muggles abandoned nice big hooded cloaks in favor of coats," Viktor muttered, shaking a great flurry of snowflakes out of his dark hair onto the floor. Tiny ice crystals still clung here and there, even in his eyelashes.

"Haven't a clue. Fashion, I suppose. Come on in, we'll get dried out by the fireplace," Hermione said, hanging up her coat.

"I could ..." Viktor began drawing his wand from a pocket, but Hermione shook her head.

"No magic unless you have to. It might sound funny, but it kind of makes Mum and Dad happy to do things the hard way. The Muggle way. It might get us pneumonia, but let them take care of us when they can. She already knows we're soaked to the skin. It would disappoint her to go get towels and hot chocolate and find out we don't need them. Silly I know..." Hermione said in a low voice.

"I understand. Parents," Viktor whispered, putting his wand back.

"Exactly. Parents. Oddest creatures on the planet. Humor 'em," she smiled. "Come on into the living room. I don't know about you, but I can't feel anything in most of my limbs," Hermione said, flapping her arms around her again.

"My legs are numb," Viktor replied, nodding.

"Must be record cold, then, if you admit you're cold," Hermione laughed.

"Ted! Hermione and Viktor are here! Here you go, towels so you can get dried off and there's hot tea and hot chocolate in the kitchen, or there's coffee being brewed, if you prefer it. I wish you had called so we could have come and picked you up," Mrs. Granger said, giving Hermione a quick squeeze.

"It was only two blocks. Would have taken us longer to wait in line and get to a pay phone than to walk considering how crowded the station was, Mum. Might not have been a working pay phone in the entire station anyway. You know they stay broken more than they work," Hermione responded. She and Viktor were vigorously toweling their hair to get the icy water out.

"So, what will you take to drink. Viktor?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Whatever she wants. I do not care, I think, as long as it is not frozen. Thank you for offering," Viktor answered from beneath his towel.

"Hot chocolate, Mum. That would be fine, thanks," Hermione said, brushing her damp hair back from her face.

"Hermione! Come here, glad you finally made it!" Mr. Granger said, grabbing her in a bear hug. "Viktor, welcome back," he said offering a handshake.

"Thank you for allowing me back," Viktor said quietly. Hermione was struck anew by how tall Viktor was. He was well over a head taller than her father.

"Nonsense, glad you could make it. You two get by the fire and get warmed up. The both of you are probably frozen solid. Either of you care for a breakfast? I think your mother's got eggs enough for an omelet in there. I could make one of my famous ham omelets. Of course, they're not famous anywhere outside of this room, but famous all the same. Or did you eat before you left and can't possibly hold it?" Mr. Granger asked, smiling.

"We didn't get to eat before we left, Dad. An omelet sounds pretty good. Make it two, and you have a deal," Hermione said.

"Helen! You do have eggs don't you? Be awful if I've just offered you something I don't have," Mr. Granger confided.

"Of course I do. And ham. Here's your hot chocolate," Mrs. Granger said, handing them each a steaming mug. "You two sit tight and thaw out. Your dad will do the omelets and I need to work on the turkey." They sat in the chairs on either side of the fireplace, steam rising from their mugs and off of their wet shoes.

Finally Hermione broke the silence. "I had the most awful time trying to explain to them what you do... how well known you are. I finally gave up when I tried the Michael Jordan analogy and that fell flat. They're even less into sports than I am, if you can believe it."

"Not known at all out here. Not that that is a bad thing. Did I tell you about the summer? The block near the Ministry building?" Viktor asked.

"About how easy it was to tell which ones were the wizards because they were the ones doing double takes? You told me you spotted ten. No fair counting the one in the hip waders and bathrobe, though," she laughed.

"To be fair, I haff seen Muggles in worse getups. Especially on the underground," he teased back.

"But not packing wands, I hope. So much for discretion," Hermione mused, taking another sip from her mug.

"Speaking of discretion, do they know about that? Did you tell them or am I going to get an inquisition to rival one of Umbridge's?" Viktor inclined his head at her hand.

"Sure. Mum thought it was a sweet birthday gift. Expect plenty of questions, but not about this," Hermione said, waggling her finger.

"One question."

"Shoot."

"Michael Jordan?"

"Basketball player. Muggle sport. The one and only professional basketball player even I can name. If he walked down the street in most of the Muggle world, he would get about the same reaction you get in most of the wizard world. He might even be asked to sign rubber haddocks, for all I know," she explained.

"Omelets up! Come on in here and get them while they're hot!" Mr. Granger called from the kitchen. As they ate, Mr. and Mrs. Granger made small talk with them. Mostly it was questions for Hermione about school, Harry, Ron, or Ginny. And they asked Viktor about himself. The only uncomfortable moment was when Mrs. Granger asked, "Remind me again, any brothers or sisters back in Bulgaria?"

Hermione cringed inwardly, and Viktor paused for a long moment before answering, "I am the only child my parents haff," without looking up from his plate. The Grangers didn't seem to notice how awkward the answer was, how it had avoided the expected, simple 'yes' or 'no'. Probably take it for poor English, Hermione thought to herself. Her parents were fascinated to discover that English was, in fact, his third language, not just his second. Unlike Umbridge, they were impressed that he was fluent in Russian as well.

The day seemed to rush by. She and her parents exchanged gifts around lunchtime, and she fended off their queries as to why she hadn't brought something for Viktor as well by saying, "We're exchanging gifts later," while leaving out the detail of how much later it would probably be. Like next Christmas, when Umbridge is gone, Hermione thought to herself, packing away the sensible new pair of winter shoes, the book and the jeans and sweater her parents had given her.

After dinner, she went to the guest room and knocked lightly. He wasn't anywhere downstairs. All the other doors were open and the rooms empty. If he wasn't in here, he wasn't in the house. He had slipped off right after they had finished clearing the table. "Viktor? May I come in?" He opened the door in a moment, and she stepped into the room. "Coming downstairs? We're just about to watch a movie. Or are you worn out and don't feel like it? I know you've been busy, would you rather have the rest?" she asked, the concern plain on her face.

"I did not want to intrude," he said softly. "You get so little time..."

"Nonsense. They're asking where you are. All for launching a search party if you weren't hiding out up here. Come on. It's kind of our tradition to watch It's A Wonderful Life during Christmas holiday. It's about the only thing on television on Christmas Eve anyway. It's an old movie in black and white, yet. I want you to come watch it with us," she pleaded.

"Are you sure I will not be in the way?"

"Honestly! I invited you here expecting to actually see you a bit. You could never be in the way. What did you expect? To see my room, eat dinner, and then hide out in here by yourself the rest of the evening? No more questions, I promise. They ran out during dinner. They've got everything but your shoe size by now," she chided gently. "Did you feel like I was intruding when I was at Pavlova?"

"Of course not."

"Well, then, why would you think you're intruding here?"

"Because I am no part of this world. I can visit for a little while and get away with it, but..." he trailed off.

"Every time I come home, I feel more and more like a visitor. Come visit with me and let me have the best of both worlds for a little while," she replied quietly. He gave a short nod of assent and followed her down the stairs to the living room without a word.