No Mistletoe Required

Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of JK Rowling and her assigns.

They were playing Wizard's Chess when Viktor and the boys came back in. “You have not killed each other,” said Viktor with a smile.

“No, unless you count the drubbing I'm getting at this. Ron was always better at this sort of strategy than I am.”

Severus replied, “It's because you don't concentrate on just the game. You've been looking out the window at a certain famous Quidditch player the whole time.”

Hermione blushed.

“Come on lads, let's see if we can put together a bit of a snack from what your mum left in the kitchen.”

“She's my gran,” said Teddy.

“Yes, she is. Come along, then.”

Viktor sat next to Hermione. “Yu were watching?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have hope that you feel something for me?”

She nodded. She definitely felt something.

“I haff—have—said that when the time is right, you are the only witch I can marry. Do you feel anything like that for me?” His voice started to sound strange as he asked, “Vhen time is right, vould yu consider marriage vith me?”

Her mind was full of so many things. She'd spent the last several days wondering why he'd never kissed her again. She'd just spoken more candidly with her father than at any time since the day he had told her about the circumstances of her birth. She had Viktor to thank for this opportunity to clear the air. She'd seen Viktor filled with rage, but on her behalf. She could only guess at the intensity of his feeling, and she knew what was budding within herself.

“I think... probably... yes.”

* * * * *

“Is good family.”

Viktor hadn't spoken since they left Andromeda's doorstep. They were now standing on the lawn in front of the castle at Hogwarts. Hermione looked at him and said, “It's a bit of a strange family, such a mishmash with his daughter, her grandson, and their common children.”

“They love you, in vay.”

She thought of the warm hug Severus had given her just before they left and the way he'd whispered. “Acceptable at the very least,” referring back to their conversation about grading her life. For once, she recognized it as loving teasing. She'd also truly accepted that he was as awkward showing his emotions as she was with him. She'd been able to answer. “I mean to get an Outstanding on the N.E.W.T.” and he had laughed along with her. Andromeda was as she'd always been, warm and kind. She was as motherly as Hermione wanted, but somehow knew when to back off. Raising Tonks must have taught her much about young women.

Coming out of her thoughts, she answered, “Yes, I do believe they love me very much.”

“It is good to have family like that. They look after us when we need them.”

Hermione remembered how after she'd gotten through Ron's funeral, she'd gone back to her house and just sat in the kitchen. At some point Severus and Andromeda had come and found her there. She'd awoken in the guest bedroom of Andromeda's cottage, warm and comfortable in body. Andromeda had shooed everyone away including herself, only coming to bring trays of foods Hermione had found herself eating.

Eventually, Hermione had started crying, and at the next meal her stepmother put the tray down and sat on the bed. She'd held Hermione for probably an hour and cried along with her, murmuring, “I know, love; I know.” Later, Hermione would realize that of all the people who might have comforted her, Andromeda was one who did indeed understand the loss of a husband. Over the next days and weeks, Hermione had cried herself out and slowly returned to the world around her. At some point, she'd regained the feeling of incompatibility around her father, and she'd left. Now she recalled the hurt look in his eyes when she'd awkwardly said her goodbye.

“You're right. In some strange way, they've been the family I need.”

* * * * *

Hermione watched Viktor wince as he came into lunch one day and remembered him mentioning injuries and scars. “Are you hurt?”

“Is old injury.”

“What happened?”

“I am young Qvidditch player. I try Vronski Feint for first time in competition. I see stars as other seeker catches snitch.”

“You fell hard enough to have a concussion?”

“And dislocate shoulder. Was healed, but today vhen student catches me off guard vith hex...”

“Why don't we go to the infirmary, then, and fix it?”

He looked at her with surprise. “You take me to Mediwitch?”

“Oh, no, Poppy's here at lunch. I think I know what to do. Sometimes Ron came home hurt, you know.” She realized that the memory didn't feel the same way it once had. She had learned a skill over the years, and now she could use it to help Viktor. It only made sense.

She walked him to a far corner of the Hospital Wing. He resisted taking his shirt off, but she held her ground. “I have to see it in order to know for sure that I have the right potions and spells in mind.”

He finally acquiesced, and she ran her fingertips over his shoulder. She could see how he'd been hurt today, but also found another ugly scar.

“What the bludger did they do to you here?”

“Is for protecting younger student from others—you say bully?”

“Yes, they're called bullies, but how could they get away with leaving such a mark?”

“Is from professor.” His lips became set and his eyes hardened. She was not going to hear any more of this story today.

Hermione sat down at that. She looked at the bottles she had gathered and busied herself with dosages. “What sort of place was Durmstrang, anyway?”

“Wery hard, but best magical education in Europe. I am prepared for anything.” His eyes dared her to say otherwise.

“I imagine you are well prepared. I just wish...” She put her fingertips over his mouth so that he couldn't interrupt her and then handed him his medicines in quick succession to keep him quiet... “I wish you didn't have to be hurt. You must have suffered so much.”

She gently touched his shoulder again, searching for the best spot to say the spell that would make the potions work fastest. She tapped his shoulder with her wand and said the spell. Then she watched his eyes to see if it worked. His face quickly relaxed, letting her know that it had.

She sat down and summoned a lunch for them both to eat in the infirmary and then realized that she had the bare chest of a very well-built wizard in her view. For a moment, she simply stared. Then she realized Viktor was talking to her.

She shook her head. “I'm sorry, Viktor, what were you saying?”

He chuckled in a way that made her toes curl. “I say, lunch looks better than flies you are likely to catch vith your mouth open like this.”

She laughed at herself a bit self-consciously as he put his shirt back on. Did he think she was some sort of idiot, or that he was like those girls who threw themselves at him because he was a Quidditch star? She ate whatever was in front of her and listened to him explain exactly what he'd done wrong in obtaining the injury she had just healed.

After they finished and sent the dishes back to the kitchen, he put his hand over hers. “T'a-Thank you,” he said, clearly working to say it perfectly. His eyes were full of feeling.

“For what?”

“For healing.”

“I just gave you potions and spells I got from elsewhere.”

“No, Hermyown, yu giff me more. Yu show kindness to me, not to superstar. Yu show compassion, not pity for schoolboy. Yu heal me.”

“I—you—you do the same for me, you know. Taking up with my father like that. No one has ever taken my side when talking to him before. Ron just avoided him as much as possible; I always have, too. And you've helped me see Ron's death differently, to grow past my grief and the rut I'd gotten into. So thank you, Viktor.”

They were walking back through the infirmary, and Viktor stopped. He leaned down and kissed her. As she remarked later to Crookshanks, there wasn't a speck of mistletoe to be found. He must have kissed her because he really wanted to do it.

A/N: Thank you to Blue Artemis for beta reading and support.