The Dinner with Viktor

The Dinner With Viktor "

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: No money is being collected, no infringement intended upon the creative property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books, or Warner Brothers. Also, I really don’t think JKR would write something like this.

AN: This was originally written for FayeValentine00 for the hghpficexchange on LJ. A huge thank you to Heather110483 and Castledown for helping me with the story and everything else.

Ah, and I wrote it before DH. :)

Present day

“I don’t know exactly when I fell in love with her. I could say it was when she suddenly entered mine and Ron’s compartment in the Hogwarts Express looking for a toad. But no, I was too young then. And in the following years, I was too stupid. I was stupid for a long time.”

**

Eleven Months before

“What do you mean a dinner with Viktor?” Ron asked incredulous. I was silent, my eyes unconsciously moving over her body. She'd changed her hair. It wasn't anything hugely noticeable, but I noticed. “What does Vicky want with you?"

“Honestly, Ron!” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “Viktor and I are friends! Why can’t you be more like Harry?”

She looked at me expectantly.
I managed to force a smile.


“Leave her alone, Ron.” I could only hope that didn't sound too much like a grunt.

I had to act as if I didn’t care, but suddenly - I couldn’t understand exactly why- I did care. It was a strange feeling; something I couldn’t quite comprehend.

It wasn’t as if this was the first time that Hermione had been out to dinner with a guy, she’d dated Terry Boot for several months after all. I’d never really cared. Of course, I’d always known that they weren’t right for her. (I mean, come on; Terry Boot?!.)

She deserves the best, you know?

The problem was Viktor. The fact she was about to have a date with Viktor Krum scared me in a way that I can't explain. Hermione and Viktor had a history. Something I had always put to the back of my mind, something I had always considered as considered as innocuous, not important.


I was just fooling myself.

He had come to know Hermione in a way that I simply couldn't, not as her best friend.

They'd dated soon after the war.

He'd been her first.



And I didn’t know exactly why, but that killed me a little.

I don’t know when or how Hermione left the apartment that Ron, she, and I shared to go to this dinner. I had simply excused myself, rambling some kind of apology about a sudden headache, and went to my bedroom.

I didn’t answer when I heard her asking if I was okay.

That was because I wasn’t okay at all.
*
Three days had been passed since the date. She’d never said anything about it, and I hadn’t asked, either.
I had just wanted to forget about this whole Viktor thing. Maybe the dinner had been a disaster, maybe-

Maybe I should be happy for my friend. The problem is that I simply couldn’t- that small selfish part of myself just wouldn’t let me be happy for her.

I was tired in body and spirit when I came home that Friday. I felt some kind of relief when I heard nothing as I stepped inside. Ron had said that he was going to spend the weekend with Luna (really, I didn’t want to know the details). I was happy for Ron. Sooner or later he would become Mr. Lovegood. However, his ‘love weekend’ also meant that it would just be me and her in the apartment.

That thought sent a strange, cold shiver running down my spine. It was ridiculous, I know. Hermione and I had been alone with each other an innumerable amount of times, and it had never been a problem.

Why were things suddenly different?


Heaving a sigh, I walked towards the kitchen to get something to drink when I saw it lying there on the table.
A note from Hermione.
Harry,
I’ve gone to dinner with Viktor.

Love, Hermione

I simply stared at the note, my lips pursed in a thin line as if I was trying to process what those few words meant.
What they meant to me.
Letting the piece of parchment fall down from my shaking hands, I closed my eyes.
To the hell with the water.
“Accio Firewhiskey!”

***

“Ha...” I could barely hear a muffled and distant voice. “Har...” It did sound familiar. My eyes were closed when I felt a soft touch against the skin of my face. “Harry, are you alright?”
My response was just an audible moan as I turned my head towards the unknown hand, kissing it gently.
It did smell good.

It tasted good.

“Harry!” My eyes flew opened as I recognized that voice. And even through my drunken haze I couldn’t help but feel more than a little mortified.


“M’ermione?” I asked, slurring my words as I struggled to regain my wits. Without my glasses, the person attached to the voice was little more than a blur to me.


“Here,” she said, handing me my glasses. “Now, Harry, honestly, what were you thinking, drinking an entire bottle of Firewhiskey?!”


I didn’t answer, I just stared at her. She was beautiful. Not that I’d never thought that she was pretty. She undoubtedly was. But at that moment, somehow, I suddenly noticed just how much of an attractive woman she’d grown to be. Yes, she still had that curly hair, long legs, slim figure. Nothing had really changed- but at same time it had.


I felt like I was looking at her for the first time.

I can still remember my heart beating in a strange rhythm.

I suddenly realized that I was in love with her.


I was in love with Hermione Granger.

“You’re beautiful,” I said quietly, gazing at her.

She blushed but didn’t look away. “You’re drunk, Harry.” I just gave her one of my lopsided grins. “Why did you drink?”


“Do you love Viktor?” I blurted out. I just had to ask. I had to know. Everything was just so confused that-
“Do you love him?” Even inebriated, my voice was clear and serious.


“Harry...” Hermione tried to get up from the couch where both of us sat, but I stopped her by grabbing her hands.


“Do you love Viktor?” I dared to ask again. “Please, answer me, do you love him?”
“No.”


I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

“But why did you go on a date with him?” My hands were still gripping hers tightly, her warmth suffusing into my skin, giving me this confidence that until now I hadn’t known existed.

“It wasn’t a date, Harry,” she answered me, with a small smile playing over her lips.
Now I was confused. “B-But you two went dinner...twice.”


“Yes, Harry, dinner,” she said, “Not a date.”


“I-”


“Viktor is getting married. That’s why he wanted to have dinner. Today I met his fiancée.”


“Oh.” I felt like the biggest idiot that the world had ever seen.


“And I’m very happy for him,” she answered my unspoken question.


“Harry?” she asked after a few minutes of silence. “Why did you sound so upset about this thing with Viktor? I’ve noticed that since I said I would have dinner with him you’ve barely spoken with me. And tonight...you never drink.” The last part was spoken like an accusation.


Merlin, what I was supposed to say? I didn’t know the answer myself.

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly, “I guess I was afraid to lose my best friend.” Best friend. Never in my life had those two words seemed so wrong.

I looked at Hermione and for a second I thought that I saw a glint of sadness and disappointment in her eyes, but that was promptly transformed into a not so natural smile.

“Well, I must be going to bed,” she began to ramble, “you should go too. Maybe you should drink that Sobriety Potion, you know? Oh well-” She began to get up.

“Hermione.” My voice sounded husky from my own ears. “I lied.”


“Oh.” She looked down, her cheeks flushing. “Y-You are drunk...”


I smiled. “Yes, but in a way, I've never been more sober.”



She looked up at me, biting nervously at her bottom lip. “Harry...”



I placed a hand gently on her cheek, caressing it with the lightest touch, my fingers only just brushing the skin. “I was stupid for such a long time, Hermione,” I whispered, “I was so blind, hiding myself behind our friendship that I couldn’t see- I couldn’t understand that something was there for a long time. When you go out with those blokes, when you dated Boot- I didn’t say anything, but I knew they weren’t right for you. I knew I didn’t like to see you with them. I just couldn’t be honest enough with myself to realize, to admit why I didn’t like it.”


"Harry ..."

"I just realized today, Hermione. Or three days ago. Doesn’t matter.” I closed my eyes briefly, opening them again a moment later. “Maybe I’m just about to fool myself. But I don’t think that I care.” I smiled and brought my other hand to her face, cupping it. How I could have been so stupid, so blind?

Her eyes were shinning with unshed tears, her lips trembling slightly. For once in my life I could see she that was unable to say anything.

Maybe, just maybe there was hope.

“I love you, Hermione Granger,” I finally said those words, “I'm in love with you.”

There was no taking it back. If she didn’t feel the same way then I’d just have to live with her rejection, and pray that we could at least still be friends.

Hermione looked at me for what seemed like forever before she gave me a small tearing smile. “Idem.”



I blinked twice as I heard that simple word. I just looked at her, and she must have sensed my confusion.



“For a long time,” she whispered, and I could see tears in her eyes. “For a long time.”



I leaned down towards her and began to place soft kisses on her face; my lips came away wet with her tears. I felt her closing her eyes as my lips began to travel across her cheeks, tracing her jaw line.

And then our lips finally met, and I could taste her mouth. I wanted to devour her- but I wanted to be gentle.
I moaned as she grabbed my hair and pulled me closer.



We finally broke the kiss for air, but remained close, holding each other, our lips barely touching.


“I love you. I love you. I love you.” I repeated over and over, my eyes never letting go of hers.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” Her voice was barely audible. “But I always kept saying myself that it was only a silly a dream- that you would never...at least not with someone like me.” My heart nearly broke as I heard those words. I opened my mouth to reply, but she silenced me, placing a finger on my lips. “I watched you with those athletic, pretty, sexy girls...and- and I looked at myself. I'm just a bookworm. I’m not saying that I consider myself ugly. I know I’m not ugly. But I also know I’m not a beauty. I just tried to be there with you- in anything you wanted, even if this meant that you would never look at me.”


“I’m sorry it took me so long,” I replied against her mouth. I wanted to repeat and repeat how much of an idiot I have been, how much I was sorry, but I didn’t know if it would be enough.


I just had to show her.


“I love you,” I said, simply, and captured her lips once more.

*
We didn’t make love that night. I was still a little drunk and I didn’t want her to think (even if it was only for second) that it was only the alcohol talking.


“Hermione?” I asked her quietly as soon as I entered the kitchen, in the next day.


She was drinking a cup tea and reading something I don’t recall. “Hi,” she replied in a whisper without taking her eyes from her reading.


I heaved a sigh. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.
‘Stupid Potter and his damned hormones! She hates me now’, I thought.
Without saying a word, I take a seat and began to serve myself my some coffee. I had taken a Muggle painkiller for the hangover and really wasn’t in mood for tea.


I was about to drink my coffee when she spoke again. “D-Did you mean that?”

I turned at her sharply, resting my cup on the table. “W-What?”


“D-Did you mean that?” she repeated. “Did you mean what you said? T-That you a-are.”
I smiled widely at her.

“Y-You aren’t just saying because you were drunk – and...”

I stood up from my seat and went towards Hermione, kneeling by her side. “I meant every word,” I said, taking her hands into mine. “T-The alcohol only gave me...courage.” I looked straightly into her brown eyes. “And you? D-Did you...”


“With all my heart. With all my heart,” she whispered back just before our lips touched.

*

Three months had passed and Hermione and I were having the time of our lives. Yeah yeah, I know, I sound like a big sap- but what can I do?

I love this woman.

But back to the point, Three months had passed since the ‘dinner with Viktor.’ We were sharing the same bedroom at that point, but nothing too specific about our ‘situation’ had been discussed. All I really wanted in all honesty was to marry her, but I was afraid that she would think it was too soon, too sudden.

I just didn’t know how much time I could wait before I began to call her Mrs. Potter.

Yeah, I was doomed.


So there I was, lying in our (our I just love the sound of that) bed, musing to myself, when Hermione suddenly jumped up from the bed and ran towards the bathroom.

She’d been having some stomach issues since the week before. I’d thought that it was probably just a bug that had been going around.



Gingerly, I got up from the bed and went to the bathroom door. My heart nearly broke when I heard the sound of her throwing up.

“Hermione, love,” I asked through the door, “are you alright?”



Her answer was some kind of grunt and then I heard her casting some spell I had never heard before. Prega something.

“Hermione?” I asked again.

However this time her answer wasn’t a grunt, but an angst sob.



Without even thinking, I just opened the door and hurried inside.



Hermione was on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, rocking back and forth. She had tears on her beautiful eyes.



I felt a lump in my throat.


“Love?” I asked again, kneeling by her side, wrapping my arms around her body. “What happened, sweetie?”
She buried her face against my chest and began to sob, her words incoherent as she struggled to get them out.

“Sorry, love, but I can’t understand you.”

She looked up at me then, lips trembling, her eyes puffy and red. “I-I’m sorry, Harry,” she said between sobs, “I-I swear I didn’t mean it...”


Okay, I was confused.

“Hermione, luv, I’m not understanding,” I said, gently stroking her hair. “I just know you would never do anything wrong. Please, just tell me what happened.”

She took a deep breath, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

“I’m pregnant, Harry.”

At that moment no words seemed to come to my mind. Actually I think my brain simply shut down.

I was going to be a dad.

A father.


Oh god.


OH god!


OH GOD!


“A-Are you certain?” It was the only intelligent thing I managed to say.
She just nodded.
I closed my eyes and pursed my lips, sighing deeply. I wish I could have cried in joy, “I’m gonna to be a daddy!”, but I couldn’t. I didn’t.


Yes, I was going to be a father. And that thought simply terrified me. I loved Hermione with all my heart- and yes I planned to- someday- have my own family but- but what if I couldn’t manage? What if I wasn’t a father figure?


Father figure. Actually, what father figure did I have? What was my model family. Uncle Vernon? The Dursleys?


I just wished I could say to her that everything could be alright.


“H-Harry?” I opened my eyes and looked at her uncertain expression. “A-are you angry?”

I gave her a tiny smile. “No,” I replied, “I’m just...surprised.”


Hermione looked hard at me, and then stood up from the floor walking back to the bedroom. I did the same.

It was clear that she was trying to control herself.



“Hermio-”

“I won’t get rid of it, you know!” she suddenly said. I simply stared at her. Get rid of it? What the hell she was talking about?



“Herm-”



“Maybe it would be better if I moved out,” she continued, ignoring me completely. “If-if you don’t want t-this b-baby I-I...”



What?!



“Whoa! Whoa!” I cried, stopping her. “Who says I don’t this baby? My baby.”
Hermione looked down, without saying a word.

I stepped closer to her and put a finger under her chin, lifting her face. We were eye to eye. “I-I am just surprised, Hermione,” I said quietly, “I’m surprised and scared- scared to death. I know nothing about babies, about being a parent. B-But this doesn’t mean that I don’t want to try.”

Hermione smiled a little. “I’m scared too, Harry.” She leaned in and wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her head against my chest. “But I know you’ll be a wonderful father.”

I didn’t say anything. We stayed there, in silence, for what it seemed to be like forever.
My doubts and fears didn’t go away. I think, perhaps, they never will.

Oh, and two days later I asked her to be my wife.
We got married a month after that.

**
Present Day

“So, it was like that that your mummy and I finally got together.”


“Oh, Harry! Telling him about our ‘getting together’ once again? He’s only one month old.”


“Yeah, but he had to know how his daddy decided to not be blind and stupid anymore.” He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling against her neck. “Umm...you smell good.”


“Thank you, Mr. Potter.” She giggled.


“You’re welcome, Mrs. Potter.” He kissed her earlobe. “You know, sweet, I never thanked Krum.”

“Viktor? What for?”


“For asking you to dinner.”


The End

AN:

References: The ‘Idem’ bit was inspired by the movie ‘Ghost’.