Flinch

Flinch

Hermione grabbed her wand from the dresser and ran it through her hair, drying and straightening her dark brown locks with each stroke. After her short hair was dry and straight, she began applying her makeup.

Viktor was shuffling around behind her and she occasionally caught a glimpse of his form in her mirror. She smiled as he muttered in his native tongue, the look on his face more than her primitive Bulgarian telling her he was looking for something and damn frustrated that it hadn't turned up in front of his eyes.

"Lost something?" she asked with a grin.

He looked up, catching her eye in the mirror.

"My green tie," he replied with a grunt.

She laughed. "You probably left it in the kitchen after you made me choose which tie you should wear."

He smiled. "Oh." He walked to Hermione, kissed her head in thanks and headed out of their bedroom.

Hermione fingered her engagement ring for a moment, a smile on her face. She loved Viktor so much and still, even after being engaged for the last three months, couldn't believe they were getting married. She loved everything about him, including his bad memory.

When she thought of her fiancé downstairs, who was probably at the moment struggling to knot his tie, her smile instantly faded. Her mind's eye immediately turned the green of Viktor's tie to another green, one that often haunted her dreams.

The green of Harry's eyes.

It had been five long years since she had last seen Harry, since the three of them had been together in the one room. It felt like a lifetime ago now. But then Harry died and less than a month later she and Ron broke up and her life as she knew it was over.

She fled, not able to deal with her grief. She ran as far as she could, to the other side of the world, though she would have gone further if it were possible. Viktor followed her. Ron didn't.

Viktor had tracked her down, all the way to Australia. He was the last person in the world she expected to see when she opened her door, and her reaction was a combination of laughter and tears. She almost collapsed in her doorway but using his seeker reflexes, he caught and held her as she cried.

After over a year of visits, Viktor suggested that she return home. Hermione refused to leave. No one in Melbourne knew anything about her; no one even knew her real name as she would always introduce herself as Jane, and the last thing she wanted was to be around people who reminded her of her loss, or worse still, asked her questions about it. But Viktor could be persuasive when he wanted. They compromised; she returned with him to Europe. Hermione stayed in his country home in Bulgaria, alone for the most part while he was off working with his Quidditch team. But the fact he was there for her, if not in person than in spirit, was more of a comfort than Hermione would admit. And then, nearly three years after their reunion, they gave in to their feelings for each other. And they hadn't looked back since.

They now lived in Stroud. They moved there a year ago, after Puddlemere United threw bucket loads of money at Viktor to get him to join their team. He accepted, on the one condition that he be allowed to play with Bulgaria in the Quidditch World Cup. Hermione had nothing to do with her old life anymore; she never saw her old school friends or Order members. She had cut and run, not being able to deal. She had made a few new friends, mainly the girlfriends and wives of Viktor's teammates, though most of them considered her to be a recluse. She didn't mind, mainly because she knew they had a point. But her new friends could never understand the trauma she had experienced in her life and that forging new friendships was hard, because she could never in her heart replace her two best friends.

Harry and Ron. She avoided thinking about them as much as possible. It was too painful. When she thought about them, sobs and screams inevitably followed, and her heart would break just a tiny bit.

"Are you okay?" Viktor asked, startling her from her thoughts.

Hermione turned and nodded at him, smiling brightly.

"Are you sure?" he asked, kneeling in front of her and placing a hand on hers.

"I'm sure. We had better get going or we'll be late. Just give me a minute to finish getting ready."

He nodded. "I'll meet you downstairs," he said, briefly kissing her on the lips and leaving her to her devices.

Hermione watched him walk out the door. She stared at the empty doorway, not really seeing anything as her vision became clouded by her tears. She blinked, and two tears cascaded down her cheeks. She let out a shaky breath and swiped at her cheeks. Taking a deep breath, she finished getting ready, pulling on some shoes and grabbing her bag.

She went downstairs to find Viktor pacing the lounge room. He smiled when he saw her, stepping forward and taking her hand.

"You look beautiful," he said.

"Thanks," she blushed, secretly loving how he could still make her feel so young and special, even after all this time together. "You don't look too shabby yourself. No wonder I agreed to marry you. Who could resist such a handsome man?"

He grinned, leaning down and kissing her. She responded instantly, deepening the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he encircled his arms around her and pushed her closer to him.

They reluctantly separated, breathing heavily.

"Damn," Viktor muttered, pressing his forehead to hers. "Vhy did you haff to do that? Now I just vant to take you upstairs and never leave the house again."

"Come on," she replied with a grin, stepping out of his embrace. "The sooner we go, the sooner we can come home."

She winked and he grinned at her. Then they Apparated away, hand in hand.

When they rematerialized in front of Casey's house, it was clear the party was already in full swing. There were plenty of people milling around, flashing lights and music blaring from inside the house. Viktor and Hermione made their way inside, giving smiles to the people they vaguely recognized.

After a brief search, they found Casey and Lucas in the lounge. Hugs and kisses were exchanged.

"Happy birthday, Case," Hermione enthused, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small, wrapped present.

"Thanks, sweetie," Casey replied, taking the proffered package. "How are you?"

"Yeah, good. Yourself? Feeling old?" she asked with a grin.

Casey laughed. "Yup. The big three-oh. It's all downhill from here."

"Hey, it's not that bad," Lucas protested.

Casey rolled her eyes. "He says that now. Let's just pretend I haven't heard you complain about your age a million times before, shall we?" she grinned.

Lucas laughed. "Yup, sounds good."

"Come on, Hermione, let's go grab a drink and leave the men to talk their sport, like I know they are dying to." Casey grabbed Hermione's hand and began leading her away, Hermione barely having time to give Viktor a smile before being taken to the makeshift bar.

The girls ordered a drink, a Screwdriver for Casey and a red wine for Hermione, and took a seat on the couch. They chatted amiably for about an hour, before Casey had to 'do the right thing' and mingle amongst her guests.

Hermione watched her go. She spotted some other friends and joined them. Hermione talked to them for a while before deciding to go and find Viktor. But first, another drink was in order.

She stood at the bar, waiting patiently for the bartender, who was clearly overworked. There were a few people on either side of her, ordering drinks, or waiting like herself to get the barman's attention. Pieces of conversation flittered around her, going in one ear and out the other. Until...

"Guess who I saw in the other room?"

"Who?"

"Ron Weasley!"

Hermione flinched. She was hearing things. She must have been. Please, she silently pleaded to whoever was listening, please let me be hearing things.

"Really?"

"Yup. He's here with whats-her-name ... Allie."

"Is he as cute in real life as he is in the paper?"

Hermione could listen no more. A kind of blind shock had passed over her as she slowly backed away from the bar.

He couldn't be here. He just couldn't. He belonged to her old life, the one she left behind a million years ago, and his being here would throw everything out of balance. She stumbled blindly, not caring who she bumped into along the way. She didn't want to go, but she found herself walking into the sitting room.

She spotted him in an instant. His back was to her, but never could she forget that shape, that stance, that flaming red hair. He laughed at a joke made by one of the small group of people he was standing with, and Hermione physically had to grip the doorway to keep from falling.

And then, for God knows what reason, he turned. He saw her. Their eyes met and Hermione thought she would be physically ill. The blood drained from her face and she gripped the doorway even tighter.

Ron was clearly as shocked as Hermione to find themselves standing in the same room. After a few beats, he went to step forward, but before he could get any closer to her, Hermione turned and hurried away from him, as quickly as humanly possible given how weak she felt at that moment. She stumbled around, gripping her stomach, looking for Viktor.

Relief flooded her when she saw him in the corner with Lucas, talking animatedly. She went straight to him, reaching out to him like he was her lifeline. Which was exactly what he was.

"Viktor," he said, her voice broken.

He looked at her and his smile instantly disappeared. "Vot is it?" he asked, placing his hands on her arms. "Are you okay?"

"Viktor," she pleaded, not being able to say anything else.

Viktor turned to Lucas. "I haff to take her home."

Lucas nodded, concern for Hermione shining from her face. Viktor wrapped his arms around Hermione and she gripped the lapels of his jacket, clinging on for dear life. They apparated straight to their bedroom.

Hermione instantly extracted herself from his arms and hurried to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She just made it to the sink before she was violently retched.

All of Hermione's unresolved feelings towards Ron, all the hate and joy and bitterness and desire and disappointment and love, came flooding back to her. She felt like she couldn't breathe, her body becoming wreaked with sobs as she sunk to the floor.

"Hermione?" came Viktor's concerned voice, muffled through the bathroom door.

He wouldn't come in unless she said it was okay. He was good like that. He knew when to give her some space and when to barge in. He knew how she liked her tea and he offered his coat to her when she was cold. He gave her flowers on their first proper date and got down on bended knee to propose. He told her he loved her every day and he made her smile even when she was sad or angry. She loved him so much.

Hermione waited until the sobs abated before crawling along the floor and opening the door. Viktor immediately crouched down to her level and threw his arms around her.

Hermione clung desperately to him, silent tears streaking down her cheeks. Viktor picked her up off the floor and carried her over to their bed. He lay her down gently and she curled up on her side, shaking slightly. He removed her shoes then kicked off his own and shed his jacket and lay down beside her. He opened his arm for her and she instantly breached the gap between them and went into his arms.

Hermione loved Viktor more than ever as she cried in his arms over Ron. He didn't ask what was wrong, didn't press for details. He knew she would tell him when she was ready and that all that mattered was that she knew he was there for her. So he kissed her head and told her he loved her and ran his hand up and down her back in comforting motions and whispered soothing words.

Seeing Ron had been a shock to the system, no doubt about it. Hermione knew she wasn't over what happened with them, and that perhaps she never would be. But she also knew she loved Viktor with everything she had left.

Eventually, exhaustion overwhelmed Hermione. But before she fell asleep, she murmured, "I love you, Viktor."

The last thing Hermione heard before sleep claimed her was a whispered, "I loff you more."