fic: Trying Again for cissasghost
Hey, I may be late, but I give value for money - 1,389 words instead of 500. cissasghost requested Viktor Krum/Hermione Granger, and this is it.
He found her after the wedding reception, crying her eyes out on a secluded park bench in his hometown. She'd always loved the spot, ever since they found it during her first visit to him, and international apparition wasn't hard for a witch of her position. Being a member of the wedding party had forced her into a hideous frilly pink dress, but she'd still looked beautiful to him. Even now her nose matched her dress, the ache in his chest when he looked at her wasn't diminished. It was an old and familiar pain, though, and so he pushed it aside. "Hermione."
"I might've known you'd find me," she said with a sniffle. "You always do when I need you."
"It helps that you come here to me," he said, sitting beside her. "It would be difficult if I was having to chase you during quidditch season."
Dabbing at her eyes with a tissue that was rapidly devolving into shreds, she said, "I shouldn't--"
Viktor shook his head fiercely and took the tissue from her hands, replacing it with a spotless white handkerchief. "It is my choice, is it not? And so you must." She sighed, staring down at the toes of shoes that had been dyed to match her dress, her wild hair tamed into a sleek knot with one curl trailing down to her shoulder. It was starting to slip from its pins and he tucked a strand behind her ear. "It upset you so much, seeing him marry?"
"Oh, Viktor," she sighed, turning to bury her face against his chest and sob. He held her, smoothing his hand over her back and letting her cry for as long as she needed to. "I shouldn't... It's so stupid."
He was only human. "It is, very stupid."
Her sobs stopped for a moment and she laughed. It was only a small chuckle, watery and weak, but it was there, and that was progress. "That's not very nice of you, you know." He shrugged and they sat in silence for several moments, each wrapped in their own thoughts.
At length, in a distant tone, she said, "I love him so much still. It hurts so badly."
"I know," he said, his voice even despite the pain it caused him to hear her say it. He looked away from her, into the infinite sky that he understood so much better than anything down on the ground. "He loves you as well. He is good man," said Viktor, the difficulty of the emotions he was dealing with making his accent stronger. "This woman, he marries her, but he still looks at you, he still wishes for you. You could take him, be happy."
She was so quiet for so long that he thought she was planning how to go about it, and he wondered whether he would be strong enough to help her. "I vill--"
"I left him, you know," Hermione said abruptly. He hadn't known. He had, in fact, thought he knew the opposite, because Hermione had cried herself sick in his arms more than once immediately after her breakup with Ronald Weasley. "Everyone thought it was the other way around because of how soon he took up with Amelia, but he'd never have looked at another woman while we were together. He's just not that kind of man."
Viktor nodded, slowly. It had always struck him as an anomaly in the man's character, and now it made sense. Over the years Viktor had been angry, and bitterly, poisonously jealous and resentful, but he had always respected the other man in Hermione's life, at least until it seemed as if he had been unfaithful. "But, why, if so..."
"Because we were killing each other," Hermione said wistfully. "We fought so much, and he was so unhappy, and I was, too. We loved each other, always, but... We hated each other, too."
She stood and he clasped his hands together so that he wouldn't reach out to her. Pacing in front of him, her skirts billowing around her, she said, "We couldn't keep it up. It had to end, and Ron would never have done it. He's a better person than I am, and so... And so I broke his heart, and then pushed him into mending it with a girl I knew loved him, and was perfect for him."
"Is controlling, what you did. Dictator-like. You know best, and do not ask others." He kept his tone neutral, pointing out a fact rather than accusing her.
"I know," she said softly. "I know, and that's who I am, and now I don't know what to do. I can't... I can't think about it, because it hurts. The one thing I've wanted most in my life, and I utterly fail at it."
"It is difficult, to love," said Viktor, standing and grasping her hands. "I know this."
"Oh, Viktor," she sighed, her face creasing into an unhappy frown. "I'm sorry, I didn't think... You've been my best friend, and it's been so long since you said anything, I thought... I'm sorry."
He shook his head impatiently. "Is not important," he said. "You do not wish to hurt, I know this. I love you, I know you, and me you do not dictator to."
She smiled a bit at that. "No, you're right, you don't let me dictate to you, even when you should."
"Dictate, not dictator. I will remember next time," he said, then raised her hands to his lips. "You will say next that it is not fair, that I must not want you, for you are broken, and do not want to break me."
"Perhaps you know me a little too well," Hermione said wryly. "I couldn't possibly--"
"It is my heart to risk," said Viktor. "If you feel nothing, can never feel for me at all, I will accept, but... But I wish, more than anything for you to try."
"Viktor, I can't... I can't make any promises. I don't want to come to you out of fear of being alone, to make you feel like an also-ran. Surely you must understand," she said, looking at him imploringly.
"I do not know this, also-ran, but I know--" He broke off and grimaced, gathering his thoughts so he could communicate in a language that still occasionally gave him difficulties. "I understand, you want to follow logical course. Intelligent course. I know this, as I know that I have loved you many years, and will love you many more."
She looked down at where he still held her hands and frowned, biting her lip. "Maybe in a few months, when--"
"No," he said firmly. "You know now. Do not give me hope if there is none that exists; I wish for a chance, to try, not for cruelty."
"Who's the dictator now?" she said wryly. "This is perilously like an ultimatum, you know. And don't tell me you don't know what that means, I happen to be aware of the extent of your vocabulary."
He shrugged, feeling entirely calm despite the feeling that his future life lay in the balance. "Perhaps, it may be so. I still would like--"
"Yes," she blurted out, dropping his hands and taking a step back. "Yes, but we have to go slowly. And I can't promise anything, except that I'll always be honest with you. But... Yes."
Wanting to make sure, he said, "You will try to love me? We will try to be together?"
Hermione nodded, stepping towards him and leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips. "I don't have to stand on tiptoe," she said bemusedly. He raised his eyebrows in question and she shook her head. "I like it. I like kissing you."
And she did it again, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him tightly. His hands went to her hair, destroying the last remnants of her fussy wedding hairstyle, and he kissed her back with all the passion he could muster, trying to let her know that she'd been hurt, that she was cautious, and that he didn't mind. He didn't mind because he intended to be her last love, as Ron had been her first, and because he knew she would help him make it last forever.
He found her after the wedding reception, crying her eyes out on a secluded park bench in his hometown. She'd always loved the spot, ever since they found it during her first visit to him, and international apparition wasn't hard for a witch of her position. Being a member of the wedding party had forced her into a hideous frilly pink dress, but she'd still looked beautiful to him. Even now her nose matched her dress, the ache in his chest when he looked at her wasn't diminished. It was an old and familiar pain, though, and so he pushed it aside. "Hermione."
"I might've known you'd find me," she said with a sniffle. "You always do when I need you."
"It helps that you come here to me," he said, sitting beside her. "It would be difficult if I was having to chase you during quidditch season."
Dabbing at her eyes with a tissue that was rapidly devolving into shreds, she said, "I shouldn't--"
Viktor shook his head fiercely and took the tissue from her hands, replacing it with a spotless white handkerchief. "It is my choice, is it not? And so you must." She sighed, staring down at the toes of shoes that had been dyed to match her dress, her wild hair tamed into a sleek knot with one curl trailing down to her shoulder. It was starting to slip from its pins and he tucked a strand behind her ear. "It upset you so much, seeing him marry?"
"Oh, Viktor," she sighed, turning to bury her face against his chest and sob. He held her, smoothing his hand over her back and letting her cry for as long as she needed to. "I shouldn't... It's so stupid."
He was only human. "It is, very stupid."
Her sobs stopped for a moment and she laughed. It was only a small chuckle, watery and weak, but it was there, and that was progress. "That's not very nice of you, you know." He shrugged and they sat in silence for several moments, each wrapped in their own thoughts.
At length, in a distant tone, she said, "I love him so much still. It hurts so badly."
"I know," he said, his voice even despite the pain it caused him to hear her say it. He looked away from her, into the infinite sky that he understood so much better than anything down on the ground. "He loves you as well. He is good man," said Viktor, the difficulty of the emotions he was dealing with making his accent stronger. "This woman, he marries her, but he still looks at you, he still wishes for you. You could take him, be happy."
She was so quiet for so long that he thought she was planning how to go about it, and he wondered whether he would be strong enough to help her. "I vill--"
"I left him, you know," Hermione said abruptly. He hadn't known. He had, in fact, thought he knew the opposite, because Hermione had cried herself sick in his arms more than once immediately after her breakup with Ronald Weasley. "Everyone thought it was the other way around because of how soon he took up with Amelia, but he'd never have looked at another woman while we were together. He's just not that kind of man."
Viktor nodded, slowly. It had always struck him as an anomaly in the man's character, and now it made sense. Over the years Viktor had been angry, and bitterly, poisonously jealous and resentful, but he had always respected the other man in Hermione's life, at least until it seemed as if he had been unfaithful. "But, why, if so..."
"Because we were killing each other," Hermione said wistfully. "We fought so much, and he was so unhappy, and I was, too. We loved each other, always, but... We hated each other, too."
She stood and he clasped his hands together so that he wouldn't reach out to her. Pacing in front of him, her skirts billowing around her, she said, "We couldn't keep it up. It had to end, and Ron would never have done it. He's a better person than I am, and so... And so I broke his heart, and then pushed him into mending it with a girl I knew loved him, and was perfect for him."
"Is controlling, what you did. Dictator-like. You know best, and do not ask others." He kept his tone neutral, pointing out a fact rather than accusing her.
"I know," she said softly. "I know, and that's who I am, and now I don't know what to do. I can't... I can't think about it, because it hurts. The one thing I've wanted most in my life, and I utterly fail at it."
"It is difficult, to love," said Viktor, standing and grasping her hands. "I know this."
"Oh, Viktor," she sighed, her face creasing into an unhappy frown. "I'm sorry, I didn't think... You've been my best friend, and it's been so long since you said anything, I thought... I'm sorry."
He shook his head impatiently. "Is not important," he said. "You do not wish to hurt, I know this. I love you, I know you, and me you do not dictator to."
She smiled a bit at that. "No, you're right, you don't let me dictate to you, even when you should."
"Dictate, not dictator. I will remember next time," he said, then raised her hands to his lips. "You will say next that it is not fair, that I must not want you, for you are broken, and do not want to break me."
"Perhaps you know me a little too well," Hermione said wryly. "I couldn't possibly--"
"It is my heart to risk," said Viktor. "If you feel nothing, can never feel for me at all, I will accept, but... But I wish, more than anything for you to try."
"Viktor, I can't... I can't make any promises. I don't want to come to you out of fear of being alone, to make you feel like an also-ran. Surely you must understand," she said, looking at him imploringly.
"I do not know this, also-ran, but I know--" He broke off and grimaced, gathering his thoughts so he could communicate in a language that still occasionally gave him difficulties. "I understand, you want to follow logical course. Intelligent course. I know this, as I know that I have loved you many years, and will love you many more."
She looked down at where he still held her hands and frowned, biting her lip. "Maybe in a few months, when--"
"No," he said firmly. "You know now. Do not give me hope if there is none that exists; I wish for a chance, to try, not for cruelty."
"Who's the dictator now?" she said wryly. "This is perilously like an ultimatum, you know. And don't tell me you don't know what that means, I happen to be aware of the extent of your vocabulary."
He shrugged, feeling entirely calm despite the feeling that his future life lay in the balance. "Perhaps, it may be so. I still would like--"
"Yes," she blurted out, dropping his hands and taking a step back. "Yes, but we have to go slowly. And I can't promise anything, except that I'll always be honest with you. But... Yes."
Wanting to make sure, he said, "You will try to love me? We will try to be together?"
Hermione nodded, stepping towards him and leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips. "I don't have to stand on tiptoe," she said bemusedly. He raised his eyebrows in question and she shook her head. "I like it. I like kissing you."
And she did it again, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him tightly. His hands went to her hair, destroying the last remnants of her fussy wedding hairstyle, and he kissed her back with all the passion he could muster, trying to let her know that she'd been hurt, that she was cautious, and that he didn't mind. He didn't mind because he intended to be her last love, as Ron had been her first, and because he knew she would help him make it last forever.