Author's Note: I'm very pleased, and very grateful that so many of you liked the first chapter, and that quite a few of you expressed your understanding for what I was trying to convey in my author's note. The story will be explained in later chapters, don't worry, but it will be complicated and filled with realistic (hopefully) drama, obviously. Here is chapter two! Hope you like it!
Chapter Two
The Ice is Getting Thinner
"Vhat is your problem being?"
I've been staring out the window of our cab as it drives through rainy London, feeling confused and angry, but as Viktor's low, rumbling voice interrupts the quiet stillness of the car, I turn and look at him. The question isn't angry or gruff, but it isn't exactly caring and worried either. Basically, he just wants to start a conversation and my silence seems a good enough way for him. In the light of the passing cars I can see him staring at me quietly, plainly. He's not annoyed or angry, just there, asking me a question.
Giving him a tired smile, I say, "Nothing. I'm fine."
He stays silent and faces forward, watching the road as the buildings pass us by.
"Did you have fun at the party?" I ask.
He rolls his eyes just a little, not so much at me, but at the idea of the party, "It vas not that great."
No. It wasn't.
After sitting on the floor of the Fitzer's bathroom for a good fifteen minutes, I managed to clean myself up, regain my composure, and get back into the crowd of partygoers. I found Viktor talking with some of his teammates, checking out the veelas, and laughing raucously. He didn't call me over, so I walked passed him and worked on avoiding Ginny and Harry all night. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I circulated around the room, keeping Ginny's bright red hair in sight, and went the opposite direction of it.
Well, my technique worked until dinner, when everyone was seated around one massive table in the dining room. And, as if the night couldn't get any more difficult, diagonally across from Viktor and I, sat Ginny and Harry.
Viktor leaned in and whispered to me, "You vere not telling me Harry and that girl would be here."
"I didn't know," I whispered back, turning to see Harry looking at us, his mouth in a straight line, just like the look I had received from him on my wedding day.
Mrs. Fitzer nearly cheered, "Isn't this wonderful? We have so many alumni from the same Hogwarts years, all here tonight."
The only thought that crossed my mind when she said that was, Merlin.
"That's right," Mr. Fitzer interjected. "Ginny, you, Harry, and Viktor's wife were all in the same year."
Ginny smiled softly, "Well, Harry and Hermione were in the same year with my brother, Ron. I was a year younger, but we all got on really well."
"Hermione? I didn't know you were friends with Harry and Ginny in school," Mrs. Fitzer looked at me in wonder.
I had only ever met the woman three or four times in my life, so I didn't see why she would have known Harry, Ginny, and I had been friends. Nodding my head, I smiled wanly, hoping the conversation would shift from this dangerous topic.
Oliver took a sip of his wine and then said, "Are you kidding Mrs. F?" he chuckled. "Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were downright inseparable."
"Hermione Granger?" another woman, one on the Puddlemore United team, echoed. "You mean from Rita Skeeter's articles? Harry Potter's Secret Heartache!" she giggled drunkenly. "I used to love those articles- You two were so cute!"
Harry spoke up, his voice slightly terse, "We weren't dating."
An awkward silence drifted over the table.
And then the woman said, "Even so- Those articles were a hoot to follow!" her eyes brightened, as if she had just realized something else. "And Viktor was in one of them too, because he and Hermione were involved!"
Chuckling wavered across the table and I ground my teeth together, digging the handle of my fork into my palm.
"What an insane turn of events! You and Viktor being married now!" she added shrilly.
Ginny muttered, "Yeah, insane," as if the topic was tiring.
And it was. I didn't want to talk about my fourth year involvement with Viktor, or the rumors that had been passed around about Harry and I. Even when Viktor and I were dating as adults, I got accusations from him, asking if I liked Harry, if we had ever been together. I can't imagine what he's going to say now, when we get home. Although he hasn't mentioned anything yet.
Did you sneak off vith Harry and kiss in the bathroom vile I vasn't looking?
Yes, right between panic attacks.
Harry and I exchanged a brief glance. And immediately he managed to steer the topic towards quidditch at Hogwarts, making me wonder if he could see the desperation and pathetic anxiety in my eyes. Viktor was stiff and silent throughout the remainder of the meal, and ignored me for the rest of the night. I managed to keep away from Harry and Ginny after that by starting random conversations with people I didn't know, asking them questions about their lives that they would happily enthrall me with. And when Viktor finally told me it was time to leave I slipped out without saying goodbye to anyone other than the hosts and one or two storytellers.
So now we're in the cab, pulling up in front of the rundown flat for our portkey. After we've paid, ascended the stairs, and find our way into the dark, empty room, Viktor slams the door. I jump a little, startled. I thought he was in a better mood, but when I see his angry eyes and clenched fists, I realize that he isn't, that I've made a mistake. The effects of Harry and Ginny being at the party, and the conversation at dinner, have all made him angry again, not necessarily at me, but, angry in general.
"I vould haf liked for you to haf been telling me that they vere going to be there," he says gruffly, pushing past me.
I turn and am nearly trotting at his heels to reach the portkey with him, afraid he'll take it when it's time, leaving me here, alone. I say, "I didn't know they would be there- If I had known I would have told you."
"Vould you haf?" he glares at me.
I wouldn't have gone in the first place.
I nod, "Of course."
He snorts a little, huffing, and makes a grab for the portkey, which I follow quickly. Before I know it, I'm being pulled and pushed, back on my way to Bulgaria, back home.
AA
The following afternoon, after Viktor has left the house for the day to do some training, I take a walk along the beach, only a few meters from our house. I've got one of Viktor's dog, Vip, the only living creature in the house that seems to like me, with me. With the waves occasionally lapping at my feet, and the wind brushing against my face, I almost feel content, like everything is okay. And then I catch a glimpse of the house, huge and taunting from where it stands, and I'm jolted back into reality, nearly gasping for air in the anxiety that swarms me. Half the day has gone by, and I haven't been able to shake this strange, anxious and excited feeling. It's not a good feeling, not the kind of excitement that makes you smile, the kind that leaves you upset and on edge. I can't figure it out- It's almost as if I'm waiting for something.
But, I don't expect anything that my brain is edging towards.
Yes. I saw Harry and Ginny yesterday. That doesn't mean all of my old friends are going to start getting in touch with me. It was a chance meeting, that's it, not a precursor for my life opening up again. I'm being stupid. I'm not going to receive any owls to visit them in England, or to come over and see the house and the beach- I'm being so foolish. Nothing is going to change.
This realization makes the hopelessness creep up, as if there was ever a possibility for change.
Vip barks at me, jumping back and forth from his hind legs to all fours.
I throw the damp piece of driftwood in my hand, as far as I can manage to throw it, and he chases it, kicking up sand as he does so.
Turning slightly, I peer over the water, wandering if I can see other countries from here. Could I swim if I wanted to? Not even when I had the strength to get up in the morning, could I manage that. I sigh. It would be nice to get away, to be on my own, to be able to relax, and to be myself, to do what I wanted. Tears sting behind my eyes, before I can talk them away. My throat aches deeply, but I swallow, shut my eyes. This is ridiculous, I tell myself. Why are you crying?
The dog reaches me again, prancing around me with the wood in his mouth, hoping I'll take it.
I grab it from his mouth, saying, "Are you my only friend now?" he doesn't answer, so I throw the wood again, and he's off.
I've succumbed to talking to the dog. The fact is almost painful.
What would I do if Harry or Ginny or Ron owled me? Would I go to England and visit? Would I invite them here if Viktor said it was okay? Would I dive into their lives again? Probably not. But if I could, I would try. And if I could run away I'd get a small studio flat in London, and I'd work with books or arguments, I smile. I could be a lawyer, or a librarian. I shake my head. What is the point of daydreaming? I mean, I don't want to run away. Somewhere, deep, deep down, I love Viktor. I don't know why I still do, but it's true.
It's strange, but I keep asking myself how it's possible. And I still don't know the answer.