Fidelity

This is honestly my first fanfiction in a while. Go easy on me. I liked this idea and ta-da, it’s here on Portkey! It’s not the most engrossing plot, but what do you expect out of an author with the penname lemon frump? Honestly. Well… enjoy, nevertheless!

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Chapter 1: Us

They made a statue of us

And put it on a mountain top

Now tourists come and stare at us

Blow bubbles with their gum

Take photographs for fun, for fun…

& & &

There was a constant flutter of nerves and excitement in the stomach of Hermione Jane Granger. The swooping, twisting feeling was accompanied by clammy palms, heart palpitations, and dubious thoughts. Nevertheless, she sat very patiently on a bench in Diagon Alley, watching the breezy autumn scenery.

She observed the shoppers passing her by, which shops they went to and how many bags they exited with; she watched the wind herd along some green and golden leaves across the pavement; she even resorted to counting the specs of lint on the end of her scarf. Everything Miss Granger did while waiting on that bench was out of distraction, albeit a poor form of it.

Frankly, she was going spare by the second. Her fiancé, Viktor Krum, was to show any moment. It had been a long three months since the two had been in the same room, let alone country, and the very last time she had seen him he had proposed. She remembered the evening in exact detail:

She had been a tad bit risky that night. Well, risky for Hermione Granger, which would fare as mildly risky on the Ginny Weasley risk scale. But, point is, she had felt completely like a fool upon arriving at the National Quidditch League Banquet. It was a prestigious social event, with every important Minister and Ministry Officials in the world in attendance, as well as every wizarding celebrity, newspaper and tabloid.

Viktor had invited Hermione, of course, and through her, he had told her she could invite some of her closest friends. Harry, Ginny, Luna and Neville all immediately accepted their invitations, the four excited to be going; though technically Harry was invited anyway. Ron, though, put on a show of reluctance, stating he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be given a charity invite from Viktor Krum (he said the name with disgust).

“Oh, come off it!” Ginny said, giving him a slap on the arm. “You want to go; every Quidditch star in the world will be there! Stop being a moronic prat, Ron!”

Hermione decided that perhaps she should try her best to look her best that night. She made Ginny accompany her to every wizarding gown shop in the country until together they found the perfect getup for her---a satin gown of a dark and lovely maroon color; it made Hermione nervous how deep the dip was in the back… but according to Ginny it “brought out” all of her “assets”. Hermione wasn’t exactly sure if she wanted all of her “assets” brought out, especially when she knew she would be in media pictures, being Viktor Krum’s date and all.

“You look very beautiful, ‘Ermione,” Krum said the moment they met face-to-face. He reached for her hand and brought it to her lips, kissing it gently and sensually, giving Hermione a tingle in spine.

She blushed greatly. “Thank you, Viktor,” she said. She smiled nervously and took his arm when he offered it.

They spent most of the night exclusively in each other’s company. Hermione actually kept count of how many dances they shared and the number totaled at seventeen by the end of the evening. The majority of the rest of the time was spent sitting together chatting; Viktor had so much to say about his recent travels all over the world, and Hermione had much to tell him about her everyday life too. It was the longest and deepest conversation they had ever shared.

“I have never felt for a girl like I feel for you, ‘Ermione,” Krum confessed by the end.

Hermione found herself smiling slightly, eyes fixed on his face. She could not bring herself to look away---she was in utter stun. For the life of her she could not understand why a man of his caliber would ever be interested in her…

…he was handsome, talented, wealthy, famous, debonair, Bulgarian. What he saw in her was anyone’s guess; it truly and utterly boggled her mind when she thought it over.

“Viktor,” she said tensely, clearing her throat. “I have to say… I don’t know what you see in me. I have to wonder if you’re a bit mad for fancying me.”

“No,” he said immediately. He took both of her hands in his and elaborated, “you are smart and beautiful and you make me laugh! I simply do not fancy you; I love you, ‘Ermione.”

She almost lost her dinner. And lunch and breakfast. She also almost ceased breathing and thus passed out, though luckily she managed not to. There was a long pause between the two of which she stared into his eyes and he looked down at her, expectant and waiting.

Hermione did the quickest thinking of her life. She thought of her relationship with Viktor Krum, and she evaluated her feelings as best as she could on such low respiratory levels.

“Oh, Viktor!” she said at last, emotions bursting. She took a leap into his arms and he caught her, and before she realized what she was doing or saying, she was crying, blurting out the response, “I love you too!”

He set her back down on her feet after a few blissful seconds of embracing, and then he was on one knee. Her eyes widened, tears stopping, and she could do nothing but stand as still as a pole with her arms limp at her sides.

It wasn’t long until others had noticed what was happening and there was a complete frenzy. A crowd had formed around them and the media were snapping photographs every millisecond.

“’Ermione Granger, will you marry me?” Viktor Krum asked.

“Oh… oh dear.” It was after that stammering sentence that she fell backwards in a faint, to the sound of shocked gasps from the crowd.

Next, she remembered fighting to have her eyes open, and once succeeding seeing Viktor’s face hovering over her. She sat up with a hand on her forehead, realizing what had happened and feeling humiliation in every fiber of her being.

“Well, will you marry me?” he asked amusedly, smirking.

She blinked a few times and then shook her head. Yes, her head said.

“You will?”

She nodded again. “Yes!” she finally said aloud. “Yes, Viktor, I’ll marry you!”

The throng of people surrounding them cheered and applauded as Krum pulled her to her feet and then kissed her quite ardently. When he released her, Hermione was feeling bemused and very shy in such a spotlight.

All she remembered after that, aside from bidding farewell to Viktor twenty minutes later, was standing in the middle of that crowd of banquet guests and catching the eyes of her friends---Ron looked absolutely torn between disbelief and horror, with his jaw dropped and eyes wider than she’d ever seen them; Luna looked to be pleasantly supportive, clapping and smiling; Neville looked befuddled, as if someone had just given him a complicated mathematical problem to solve; Ginny was cheering loudly, whooping at the air and grinning from ear-to-ear; and Harry… Harry was … not there.

Hermione didn’t realize she left Viktor’s side to look for Harry until she had actually done it. But that didn’t matter, she needed to know the opinion of her best friend. She knew the opinion of everyone else; what did Harry think of her spontaneous acceptance to Viktor Krum’s proposal?

“Harry!” she exclaimed once she spotted him. She hurried over as fast as she could in the heels she was wearing. “Harry,” she said again once she reached him; she put a hand on his shoulder to turn him around, for he was walking away.

“Huh? Oh, hey Hermione!” he said when he turned to face her.

She smiled. “Well? Did you see what happened?”

“I did actually,” he replied. “Congratulations, Mrs. Krum. I never thought you of all witches would accept a marriage proposal out of the left field of a Quidditch Pitch!”

Hermione agreed, but in response she shrugged and continued to smile. “I think a bit of spontaneity is exactly what I need in my life.”

“You always know the answer,” Harry said teasingly, smiling.

“That I do! And the answer to this is… amazing, Harry!” Hermione said happily, nearly bouncing up and down. She settled for moving her arms around in a number of zealous gestures. “My mum is going to be ecstatic; she loves Viktor… almost as much as she’s sixes and sevens over you! Viktor is the first and only man that has ever truly been interested in me; I mean, sure I have had a few other relationships, but none of them have ever quite compared, I don’t think.”

Harry’s brow furrowed and a thin frown formed on his face.

“Oh, Harry, you know what I mean,” Hermione said, hoping she had not hurt his feelings. “We had a very special bond and it was everything I always thought it would be while it lasted, but you broke up with me, and I suppose it was for the better good… I mean I have Viktor now and you have the independence and freedom you wanted.”

Harry slowly nodded, knowing she was right. “Yeah. I’m happy with the way things worked out between us; everything stayed as it was before we, um, happened. Congrats, Hermione. I know Krum makes you happy and he seems to cherish the ground you walk on so I have no choice but to approve.”

Hermione smiled and felt her heart tremor at the truth to which Harry spoke. “He does, doesn’t he?” she said dreamily, eyes twinkling in the moonlight. She looked down at her folded hands in front of her and smiled again, this time more to herself than anyone; Harry remembered when she used to smile that way about him…

“Well, I guess I should go back to spend the last few moments with him,” she said, looking up again.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea; you won’t see him for a while, right?”

“Yes. I won’t see him again until early October… it seems like such a long time from now,” Hermione said with a sinking feeling. She hadn’t thought about the three months she would have to go without Viktor, now after being engaged. Their entire relationship was of the long-distance nature, the two spending long periods of time apart, but now that they were engaged, three months felt like a cruel Azkaban sentence. “I better go say goodbye,” she said sadly.

“Hermione, you’ll be fine. The three months will feel like a week. You know you, you’ll probably be swamped with work and whenever you’re not, Ron and I will distract you with our stupidity,” Harry said, joking.

“Thanks Harry,” she said gratefully. “Well, see you!”

She then turned away and returned to Viktor…

Hermione sighed. She had replayed that evening over and over again in her head for the last three months. She had discussed every single detail over with Ginny and Luna, though she had excluded some bits and pieces of her conversation with Harry from Ginny. The two were long over, but Hermione felt like it would be in bad taste to include such fine points.

“Hey you!”

Her head snapped up and she released a very un-Hermione squeal of excitement when she saw him standing before her. She jumped to her feet and tossed her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“Oh, I’ve missed you insanely!”

“I’ve missed you as well, ‘Ermione,” Viktor said into her mane of thick hair.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and pulled back to look him in the eye. “The last three months have been torture, you know. My mum is bursting to see you again! I’ve been dreading that, honestly, because I know she’s going to be that embarrassing.”

Viktor laughed. “Your mother was a lovely woman. When can we have dinner?”

“I suppose tonight would be fine… if you don’t already have plans?” Hermione said hopefully.

“How can I say no to such a beautiful face even if I did have plans?” he asked, beaming.

“Oh, Viktor!” Hermione said excitedly. She laced her hand with his and together they set off, the autumn wind blowing around them.

&&&

It was only seven in the morning when Hermione was thumping on the door to Ginny’s flat. Blinking groggily and scratching her head, Ginny answered the door to find Hermione standing out in the hall.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing here this early? You know I don’t get up for another three to four hours,” Ginny said, yawning.

Hermione skirted right past Ginny, forcing her way into her apartment. There was a panicked aura about her that early morning, from the way she paced the length of Ginny’s fireplace to her armchair to the way she yanked the scarf off from around her neck and began fidgeting with it.

“Okay, all right, I get it; what’s wrong?” Ginny asked with an exasperated sigh. She flopped down onto her comfy, though anciently old Weasley sofa and gave her friend her undivided attention.

Hermione paced a bit more, stopped abruptly, thought for a second or two, and then finally settled on sitting down herself. She dropped to the edge of the armchair across from Ginny, hands clasped in her lap.

“Oh, Hermione, what could it be? I thought you’d be with Viktor right about now; you two are engaged and you’ve been separated for how long?” Ginny said with emphasis.

A blush spread over Hermione’s cheeks. “No, sorry to disappoint, but we only spent yesterday evening with my parents. Mum thinks he’s amazing; dad… dad just thinks. But that’s beside the point---Ginny, I’m here because I feel as if I am having a severe nervous breakdown about this whole, erm, impending event!”

“Impending event, huh? What a way to describe your engagement, a.k.a. your future marriage!” Ginny said.

“Yes, I know. Of course I love Viktor very, very dearly; don’t you doubt that. Only, what exactly does he see in me? We are complete and total opposites, from complete opposite sides of the spectrum, and… I can’t help but wonder how long can it work? Last night was,” Hermione said in explanation, a dream expression crossing her face at her mention of last night. She cleared her throat and returned to reality. “All I could think about as I sat at my parent’s dinner table directly across from Viktor was that, he was it, Ginny. He’s the man I plan on spending the rest of my life with; the man I’m planning on having children with, and even planning on growing old together. It brought a warm feeling to my insides, it truly did. But… what if, you know, just what if my plan does not go accordingly? Then what?”

“Hermione,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes, “you can say that about any plan!”

“But this is marriage, Ginny. It’s sacred and it’s supposed to be till death. It is probably the biggest decision of my life,” Hermione said, petrified. “I cannot believe I said yes to his proposal so impulsively! That’s not like me at all. What was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking. Who knows if he’ll realize one day that he can do better! And he can really—“

“Oh, shut up!” Ginny snapped irritably. She changed her position on the sofa to a sitting one. “Hermione, it’s three months into your engagement and you’re thinking about this now?”

“For the past three months all I’ve been able to think about has been how much I missed him; how happy I always am when he’s around, and how he… he gives me this feeling I don’t get with anyone else, not in a long time, anyway. But---well, it’s a bit silly---but now that he’s back… reality is sinking in,” Hermione said despondently.

“You’re just going to have to get over your insecurities,” Ginny said tactlessly.

Hermione frowned. “That’ll take a century!”

“A century I unfortunately don’t have---sorry, Hermione, but you’re just going to have to sort this mess out in the hall, because I’m about to fall back asleep any moment!” Ginny said, standing. She walked over and grabbed Hermione’s arm, pulling her all the way over to the front door. She opened it and gave Hermione a push out into the hall. “Really, love, you know you’re about as good as a sister to me,” Ginny said quickly, “but this little Weasley needs her beauty sleep! Maybe you can go rationalize this with Ron or Harry; I’m sure they’ll love this kind of stuff.”

“But---but, Ginny,” Hermione said hopefully.

“Can’t talk; must sleep. Bye!”

And with that, the door slammed in Hermione’s face.

Hermione instinctively lifted her hand to knock again, but then she thought better of it. Sighing and admitting defeat, she turned and left the building of Ginny’s flat, her insecurities as troublesome as ever.

& & &

“Hey,” Harry said, popping his head around the corner of her cubicle, “got a minute? Or hour, preferably.”

Hermione beamed with relief and nodded fervently. She sat at her desk at the office of the Daily Prophet, her desk virtually nonexistent under the stacks and stacks of paper and parchment on it. It was obvious she was swamped with work and needed a break.

And it was only a few minutes later that the two best friends were sitting outside of a Muggle bistro not very far off from the Prophet office, eating lunch and enjoying the other’s company.

“Did you see that article in Galleon Gazette?” Harry asked with a hint of amusement. “They’ve written another article about the night of the World Quidditch League Banquet. They can’t seem to get enough of you two.”

“Yes, I know,” Hermione said, blushing. “I’ve seen it. I look horrible in the pictures, and it’s an added horror that they’ve even managed to mention in detail my fainting.”

Harry chuckled. “It isn’t that big of a deal, Hermione. You’ll be remembered.”

“Oh, nice!” Hermione retorted. “Look at you, you filthy hypocrite! You are the last one to talk, saying, ‘at least you’ll be remembered’. Think that every time you’ve been gabbed about endlessly in the press.”

“See, I’m a special case,” Harry said, smirking.

“Right. Well, I’m a reporter, thank you, I know how these matters work. My fainting after the ever-so charming and desired Viktor Krum proposed to me is only fuel to every witch and wizard out there who thinks I am not suited for him; that I’m not even worthy to breathe the same air as him,” Hermione said. She allowed her voice to tremble a little, blushing afterward with embarrassment.

“Keep being insecure, Hermione,” Harry told her sarcastically, “and everything will be positively peachy---smashing even.”

Hermione made a face and then looked down at her plate. She knew she was exposing her insecurities a lot more freely lately and that it became very annoying to those around her, but she only spoke the truth. She was not used to such open scrutiny; most of the Bulgarian press openly disapproved of Krum’s choice in choosing Hermione Granger, an, according to them, “massively plain and boringly studious girl”, to marry when he could marry a lovely, clever and beautiful Bulgarian woman.

“You don’t understand, Harry,” she said quietly, feeling as if she wanted to cry. “I’m scared.”

It was Harry’s turn to make a face: he scowled.

“Sure, be irritated,” Hermione said emotionally, “but you came to me today! You wanted to spend time with me, Harry. You know I’ve been under tremendous stress lately, from a number of outlets! I’m trying to deal with everything and sort it out.”

“Hermione, there is always going to be something to be scared of, but you need to either take the risk or play it safe; no one can make the decision for you,” Harry explained. “You’re letting your insecurity make you scared.”

“What if one morning I wake up and find the bed empty?” she asked, finally allowing a few tears release. She grabbed the napkin cloth and rubbed it against her eyes furiously. “What if I just wake up and find he’s gone, he’s left me? How long can it be before he listens to them and just… goes?”

“If he’s as decent as you’ve always said, he won’t,” Harry answered awkwardly.

“I’ve always said you’re more than decent and look what happened,” Hermione remarked bitterly, unable to resist. She sighed, deciding to steer the conversation away from the subject she had lightly touched upon. A few more tears leaked out of her eyes. “I only want for my marriage to last until the end, the very end… old age and death. I don’t want to be left before that.”

“Well, it’s a risk you’re going to have to take, isn’t it?” Harry asked simply, shrugging. He took another large drink of his limeade and began swirling the fancy umbrella straw around in his glass. A long and tense silence fell upon the two, in which Hermione finally controlled her emotions and stopped crying, and in which Harry built up the courage to say what he felt needed to be clarified. “I don’t want you to think it was because of you,” he said vaguely.

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. He continued on.

“It wasn’t because of you. I hate that you were left with that. It was because I was a foolish prat who felt like everything was tangled and a mess. I needed to extricate myself from that,” he said without looking at her, but staring at his glass as he continued to swirl the umbrella straw in it. “We were a lot younger… it was after the war ended and everything was just… confusing; I was grasping for some control. I wanted to be free of Harry Potter and all he entails.”

With a sound of disgust, Hermione couldn’t contain her reply. “Please, Harry, I really don’t care for your explanation about it. You weren’t foolish, the times were. Our relationship was merely solace after a time of tragic chaos. I wanted to feel valued and so did you; our relationship did its job and it ended---for the best.”

Harry nodded in agreement, but said nothing. He continued to look at his glass as he swirled the straw some more.

Hermione checked her wristwatch, smiled, and then stood. “I better go. If I don’t have my latest article on Murphy’s desk by four, I will be unemployed!”

“Yeah, all right. Are you coming over tomorrow night? You can bring Viktor too, though Ron will be livid,” Harry said, grinning up at her sideways.

Hermione grinned in return and replied, “all the more reason to bring him!”

She turned away with that grin on her face and left. Once she was gone, Harry had nothing to do, still, but to stare at his glass of limeade, continually swirling the fancy umbrella around. Hermione was trying to make him feel better, like always…

…the times were foolish, true---but, honestly, so was he.

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Reviews would be nice! I’d like to read your opinions!