Viktor sat at the bar at the post-match party. He stared into his drink as he contemplated the decision that he had made. He would never be a Durmstrang student again. His education was complete. This thought scared him. All he had ever known was a life of education. He had lived and breathed Durmstrang for years and leaving that would not be easy.
He couldn't think of Hermione. Every time her sweet face flashed in his mind, it was set in stone. He should have told her. A day or two would have been acceptable, but a whole week was too long to keep such a secret. She had done everything she could to help him, despite all of the challenges in her own life. Only a little rain and he crumbled. She was stronger than him, and he knew that. She had seen and done things that he could not imagine and it had made her tough and resilient.
Viktor was convinced that Hermione was going to be gone, with all of her things, when he eventually went home. That was why he stuck around and enjoyed the company of his team mates. But he was never having fun, not really. Because at the back of his mind, he had a worry, a deep worry, that the one person he truly cared about was going to be gone.
Hermione had stayed up as long as she could. She had cooked herself dinner, after Chigvintsev left. She ate alone and after dinner, she curled up with a book on the sofa and read until her eyes fell closed and the book slipped through her fingers.
Finally, in the early hours of the morning, Viktor apparated home. To his surprise, there were no bags by the door, none of his family heirlooms had been smashed in a fit of anger. Everything seemed as it was. When he saw her, laid out on the sofa, one arm extended to a book that had been long forgotten, he felt the air leave his lungs. He looked down at her sweet, peaceful face and felt his eyes water. She hadn't left. He had judged her too harshly. It didn't matter what she said, if she screamed that she hated him when she awoke. She waited for him all night, not going to bed. She was too good for him, he had abused the love she had for him. He hung his head in shame and went to shower and change.
Hermione awoke to the smell of cooking bacon. Viktor was in the kitchen, but he looked tired and worn.
"What time did you get in?" She asked, her voice croaky.
"Too late." He replied simply. He was ashamed.
"I waited up, but it got so late that I, well." She gestured to the sofa.
"You didn't have to stay up for me." He was being defensive. He just wanted this whole situation to go away. Hermione felt attacked, she was unsure what was going on. He should be the one apologising.
Both were silent for a minute or two, but then Hermione remembered her news that she wanted to tell Viktor.
"You will never believe what Chigvintsev told me yesterday!" She began, trying to lift the mood of the room.
"Vhat?" Viktor asked.
"I am going to Hogwarts, for the Triwizard Tournament." Viktor froze. This was not the reaction that Hermione was hoping for. Her face slowly fell as the seconds went by, silent.
"Are you being serious?" He turned, his attention leaving the bacon now.
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" She asked, shocked.
"There is no vay you can compete." He shook his head. It was too dangerous for Hermione to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. She had already suffered from injuries, she was not fit to compete.
"Oh, so just because I have a limp I can't compete. Well I am sure I could cast you into the ground if I wanted." She was offended. She had helped defeat you-know-who and now she wasn't fit to face a few witches and wizards her age? She was deeply offended.
"I am sure you can." He replied, wanting to end the conversation.
Hermione took a moment to cool off and prepare her response.
"Well, someone has to go. Seen as you decided to leave Durmstrang and not tell anyone." Viktor sighed. He had no response.
"I am sorry." He replied, hoping that it would make it all better.
"For what? For keeping it from me? For keeping it from Chigvintsev? For then staying out all night because you didn't want to have this conversation?" Her voice rose until she was shouting, all passion and tears.
"And can you blame me?" He asked her and that was the last straw. She understood now. He needed to be on his own. He had made it obvious that, at the moment, he did not want her around. Fine, she would give him his space.
Viktor heard a commotion upstairs and wondered what on earth was going on, with Hermione stood in front of him.
"I thought you would support me, as I have always supported you. If you had told me about leaving Durmstrang, I would have supported you. I am going to Hogwarts next month and I am going to put my name into the Goblet of Fire. If you don't agree with that, then you don't have to watch me do it." Her voice wobbled, tears running down her face..
"Vhat are you talking about?" Viktor sighed, bringing a hand up to his face.
"I am going to go. You need your space to be a bachelor, now that you have your new life here. Please, enjoy it. You're a great athlete, Viktor. You'll go far." She gave him one last smile, before walking to the bottom of the staircase, picking up her suitcase, and apparating out of Viktor's home.
The bacon had burnt. Viktor stared at the space she had apparated from. Was that it? Had she really left him? It hit him then, how large his ego had grown to think that she would never leave. She had left her glass blowing equipment, but nothing else remained of her in the house. It was now Viktor that smashed plates and glasses, and anything he could find. He screamed at the top of his lungs, then slid down the wall, his head in his hands, and allowed himself to cry.
Chigvintsev was less shocked than he thought he should have been when he opened the door to Hermione. She stood with a suitcase in her hand and a deflated look on her face. He did not say anything, he just stepped aside and allowed her in.
Hermione was relieved that Chigvintsev had allowed her into his home. She was unsure where else she would go if he would not have her. He made them each a cup of tea and then sat with her, until she was ready to talk.
"He doesn't want me to compete." She began and Chigvintsev nodded. He was shocked that Viktor had taken such a stance, but he was not surprised now that she had left.
"He needs to be alone right now. When he's ready, we can talk. But until then, I can not live under his roof." She sighed. She felt like a failure. She was sure another woman would be able to keep him through this time, but she was not that woman. Chigvintsev placed a hand over her's.
"You are velcome to stay as long as you like." He smiled down at her and she felt a weight leave her shoulders.
"Thank you."
Viktor had sat in the same spot for hours. But, after a while, he didn't see the point in sitting, surrounded by broken pots and pans. So he cleaned, until the kitchen was beautiful. Hermione would come back, she just needed a few days, he thought to himself. She wouldn't leave, she cared about him and he was sure that she would drop this idea of competing at Hogwarts and return to Durmstrang and all would be well again.
But Hermione had no plans of going back to Viktor or letting go of her goals. She was going to Hogwarts and she was going to give Viktor his space, plain and simple.
Training began almost immediately. With them living in the same house, it was easier for Chigvintsev to train Hermione, ready for the Triwizard Tournament. Now, they practiced combat, and it seemed Hermione was a little rusty. She was above average, but she felt that her skills were not what they were in the war. Her new goal was to train up to be as powerful as she was before. Working so hard helped keep her mind off of Viktor, and anything that did that was a good thing for Hermione.
Viktor refused to go into Hermione's room. He couldn't. The wound was sore now, open and fresh. She had left him, because he was not giving her what she needed.
"I thought you would support me." He remembered her saying. He let his head fall into his hands. He had managed to start something amazing with one of the most talented witches in the world and he had ruined it, he had let her get away.
Days turned into weeks and Viktor had the slow but sure realisation that Hermione wasn't going to be coming back. He went to training in the morning and he always hoped, everyday, that she would be there for him when he went home. Everyday he was disappointed.
The boys on the team had started to notice that Viktor was not himself. Hermione had managed to keep it out of the papers and Viktor was glad of that. It was not until one day, Andre plucked up enough courage to ask him:
"Viktor, what is up with you lately? You're not yourself." Viktor laughed to himself, he was shocked that it had taken him so long to ask. But then, he sobered and sighed.
"Her-my-knee left me." Saying it out loud made it so much more real and Viktor had to fight to stop himself from shedding a tear.
"When?" Andre was shocked.
"A few weeks ago?" Andre let his shock show on his face.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?" He asked and Viktor shrugged his shoulders.
"What help would it have done." Andre shook his head, disagreeing with Viktor.
"Why did she leave?" He tried his luck by asking.
"Because I didn't tell her I was coming to play here permanently." Andre saw a theme in what Viktor was saying. It seemed he had a problem with communication. But he wasn't sure there was much that he could do for his friend.
Viktor hoped, once again, that Hermione would be waiting for him at home. But instead, he returned to her glass blowing equipment gone, the last remnants of her in the house. He sat down on his sofa, he closed his eyes, and he stayed there until the next morning.