Inell's Fanfiction Archive

Paris in the springtime was traditionally a very romantic experience. At least, that’s what the guidebooks claimed. Hermione had been there three days and hadn’t seen anything very romantic at all. The flowers agitated her allergies, it was ridiculously crowded, and her hotel room was tinier than most conference hotel rooms, which was really saying something. Since tomorrow was Ron’s youngest child’s birthday, though, she’d been forced away from her notes and work out into the streets of Paris so she could buy something suitably appropriate for a five year old boy who would be quite devastated if Aunty ‘mione didn’t send a gift.

She was browsing the window of a Muggle toy store when she thought she heard someone say her name. It was ridiculous, of course, because she didn’t know anyone in Paris and the other attendees of the conference called her Ms. Granger, usually inflicting the name with a snide ‘thirty-five and still single, huh?’ tone. However, when she heard it again, much closer, she turned to look over her shoulder. Her frown of annoyance at being disturbed faded into a look of surprise.

He was older, obviously, as was she, but he was still tall, striking, and handsome in the way that made her tummy flutter and her heart race. It was like the last dozen years hadn’t happened, like she was twenty-two and had another chance before she made a choice that would linger in her mind despite not having too many regrets. She couldn’t help the gentle smile that crossed her lips as she said, “Hello, Viktor.”

******************

It was too much. He was too much. He wanted too much. She knew she couldn’t give him what he needed, but she selfishly kept him as long as she could. It was finally time to let him go, though. When he told her the news about his job, about moving to Berlin to coach a pro team, she was pleased for him, excited that he had this chance, but she knew she couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear. She’d just received a promotion, after all, and there were actually people starting to listen to her ideas about improvements in the department. The legislation she wanted put into place to protect the rights of magical creatures was so important to her, it’s why she’d joined the Ministry in the first place, and she couldn’t just give it all up to move.

The look in his eyes when she smiled and told him congratulations nearly killed her. He knew, just like that. He always understood her so well, even after years apart, and she hadn’t even had to say the word because it just took looking at her for him to know. For a moment, she thought (hoped) he’d fight her or that he’d demand she actually talk about this. Instead, he sighed and smiled sadly, obviously knowing that he’d gained a new profession yet lost her at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she went to him. It was all she could say, even if it sounded flat and weak to her own ears. She told herself that he had a choice, too, and it was apparent that his career meant more than staying with her, but it wasn’t a logical argument because she was merely an assistant to an assistant with lofty ideas while he’d worked for years to get a chance at coaching. There was a temptation to suggest a long distance relationship, yet she couldn’t because she’d never seen one successful, and she didn’t want them to end with fighting and hatred. She loved him too much for that.

“Shh, Hermyonee.” He kissed her softly and pulled her closer. “Ve vill haff no tears. I loff you.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered, hating that that wasn’t enough. She held him as he lowered her to the bed and blinked away tears when he moved his hands over her body. His rough palms cupped her breasts as he settled over her, and she touched him everywhere she could reach.

If she closed her eyes, she could describe his body. It had been fourteen months since they’d met again, after all, and she knew every scar, freckle, and curve by memory. Knowing this was the last chance she’d have to ever touch him made her desperate to feel him, and she didn’t want to let him go when he raised up to reach between them. He nipped at her lip when he eased a finger inside her, stroking her as he kissed her languidly, and he brushed away her tears when he eased inside her.

It was slow and gentle at first but, soon, it became more urgent as he thrust harder and faster, touching her all over as they lost themselves one more time. He breathed her name in a sigh when he came, holding her tight as he spilled inside her. She shuddered soon after, tightening around him as she fell over the edge. He kissed her face, neck, and breasts as she trembled, and he didn’t pull out of her until sunlight began to fill the room.

She watched him gather his things and kissed him when he leaned down, holding onto his shoulders until he moved her hands and brushed his lips against her forehead. He left, the door shutting quietly behind him, and she finally let herself cry.

******************

“You look vell, Hermyonee.”

She shook her head slightly, pushing away memories as she shook his hand. He pulled her against him, hugging her tight in a way that was so familiar even after all these years. She lingered too long, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. When she pulled back, she smiled up at him. “You look well, too.”

There was silence for a moment before he laughed. “Ve are haffing awkvard silence now, no? Vot brings you to Paris?”

She laughed softly and tucked her hair behind her ear in a nervous habit. “Work,” she explained, letting the word sink between them, always between them, it seemed. “And you?”

“Vork,” he murmured, running his hands through his hair before he bit his bottom lip. He smiled wryly. “I haff been flying instructor at Beauxbaton for last eight years. Children are not as difficult as professional players. I haff hopes that I vas not spoiled vhiny brat ven I play like those I coached.”

“You’re a teacher?”

“You are surprised?”

“No. Yes. I mean, well, a little.”

“Vhy is it surprise?”

“I don’t know. You always loved professional Quidditch and didn’t particularly love children. I didn’t realize you could speak French.”

“I vill tell you secret, Hermyonee. I do not speak better French than English, but I haff learned vords for ‘Listen’ and ‘Do’.”

She looked at him and giggled before she bit her lip. “You never wrote me. I---I thought you’d write.”

“Vhy must I write? You did not write, either. I thought you vere glad to be, how you say, rid of me? You say often it vas too much, I remember, and I vant you to be happy,” he said simply. He reached out his hand and tucked her hair behind her ear before he caressed her cheek. “Are you happy?”

“Yes,” she lied before she dropped her glance and sighed. “Not really. It’s been a long time since I’ve truly felt happy.”

“I thought I vas happy once since I left, but it did not last. She vas not you, and she did not understand me as vell as you did,” he said quietly as he touched her chin and urged her to look up again. “Ve vere difforced many years ago, but I haff two children that are vorth mistake of marrying her. I care for them as she did not vant them at all. They are reason I come to this store and meet you again after so many years.”

“You were married? And you have children?” She shifted and glanced at the window of the toy shop. “I have my job. I no longer work at the Ministry. I couldn’t tolerate their ways and the politics. I work for an organization that protects the rights of magical creatures and all magical citizens. It’s challenging but I can actually help make differences instead of being part of the problem.”

He studied her face for a moment before he asked, “Are you in Paris often?”

“I travel occasionally and do a lot of work from home or on site,” she murmured, turning her attention back to him. “I’m in Paris for a week at a conference on the rights of dark creatures.”

“Vould you like to haff dinner vit me and children tonight?” He smiled. “I am good cook, say children, though I haff problem vit burning things sometimes. I vill not burn dinner tonight. I haff missed you, Hermyonee.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted softly, trying to figure out what he was asking and what it meant.

“You are thinking too much still. It is just dinner. For now. Ve vill vait and see vot happens, maybe?”

“Yes. I mean, dinner would be nice,” she said, smiling shyly as she felt fifteen instead of thirty-five.

“Great.” He smiled and nodded towards the toy store. “Ve vill shop and then ve go eat.”

“Okay. I have to buy something for my nephew’s birthday tomorrow anyway.”

He moved his hand to rest on the small of her back as they walked to the door. She shivered slightly and smiled hopefully when he leaned down and whispered against her ear. “They say that Paris in springtime is for loffers. Perhaps ve vill find out truth in that claim, Hermyonee.”

End