“You vork too much, Herm-own-ninny.”
Hermione didn’t look up from her notes. “Viktor, please. I’m trying to get the last of this research compiled for my meeting tomorrow. You know I want to make sure all of this perfect.”
“Is always Viktor please,” he muttered softly before his sigh filled the air. “Is years of Viktor please, but never Yes, Viktor.”
She looked up then and saw her husband frowning at the top of the desk. He wasn’t what she would typically call good-looking. His nose was too big for his face and his forehead was too wide even with the black fringe covering it, but she found beauty in the harsh lines and sharp edges. “I’m sorry,” she said softly as she drew her bottom lip into her mouth.
They’d been married for three years and he’d never had a problem with her focus on her work. In fact, he always supported all of her projects and even donated time to work at the various charities she endorsed. In fact, lately, that was about the only time she really got to see him. She’d had several projects that had required her attention and he’d been away at various matches so tonight was the first night they’d actually been home, together, in several weeks.
He looked at her and his lips curved into the crooked smile that had won her heart five years ago when they’d run into one another again at a Quidditch match she’d attended with Ginny, who refused to believe anyone didn’t like Quidditch or enjoyed working on weekends. “Is fine. You vork. I do something else.”
She watched him lift her hand and brush a kiss against her knuckles before he walked out of her study. It wasn’t long before she heard the melody of At Last begin to play from the sitting room. The sultry and sensual voice of Ella Fitzgerald was hard to ignore, as was the memory of this song playing as they’d danced slowly on their first date. Hermione put her pen down on the desk and took off her reading glasses.
Her files were shut and put away before she stood. When she entered into the sitting room, she found him sitting on the sofa, simply staring at the ceiling as his lips moved to the lyrics. She walked to the sofa quietly and held out her hand. “May I have this dance?”
His eyes opened and he raised his head. “You must vork,” he reminded her softly. “Is important to you, that vork, no?”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed quietly. “But you’re more important, Viktor. Dance with me?”
He frowned. “No. I do not vish for you to not do vork that needs done.”
At Last ended and she heard the opening melody to Someone to Watch Over Me, one of her favorites. She took Viktor’s hand and pulled stubbornly until he finally stood up. His large hand moved behind her back to keep her from falling when she lost her balance at his sudden movement. She looked up at him and whispered, “Dance with me.”
Instead of replying, he leaned down and kissed her gently. She moved against him and rested her cheek on his broad chest as they began to slowly move together. She smiled as she sang along. “Although he may not be the man some Girls think of as handsome To my heart he carries the key.” When she felt Viktor’s hands on her back, she felt safe and loved, protected and cherished. Work could wait when she had a man who seemed to think he took second place in her life.
Carries the Key
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