Hermione Granger frowned as she caught sight of her mother peering through the blinds of the front window for the third time in as many minutes.
"Mum, is everything alright?"
"I think someone's watching the house," Mrs. Granger murmured.
Mr. Granger's brow furrowed at the reply. He sat the newspaper he had been reading aside and joined his wife at the window. "Hrm. I believe you're correct, darling."
Hermione and her parents had returned from Australia less than a week ago. After regaining their memories and learning the reason behind their being obliviated, her parents' paranoia was understandable. Who wouldn't feel that way upon being told they had been targeted by a fanatical group of magical supremacists? She knew there would be an adjustment period, that they wouldn't be able to resume to their normal lives without consequence.
"I'm sure it's nothing," she soothed. "Remember, there are protective enchantments surrounding the house. Unless accompanied by someone that actually resides here, the house will go unnoticed."
"You certain about that, poppet?" her father dubiously asked.
This was followed by an exclamation from her mother. "Oh, he's heading up the walk!"
At hearing this, Hermione's eyes widened in shock. Skepticism was forgotten as she sprang into action, withdrawing her wand and hurrying to the entryway. She braced herself for a confrontation while attempting to make sense of the situation. How could someone be approaching their home? This should not be possible. As far as she could tell, her wards had not been breached.
"He's alone?" she questioned.
"Yes." Mr. Granger squinted, taking in the stranger's appearance. "Tall, slender bloke with pale skin and dark hair. A bit grim in the face."
"Sweetheart, maybe you should call for backup," her mother anxiously suggested. "Harry, perhaps? Or Ron?"
Harry was currently staying at the Burrow. If she called Harry, Ron would undoubtedly find out and tag along. And, she really did not want to deal with Ron. He was probably still in a snit regarding her refusal to enter a serious relationship. A logical decision, in her opinion, considering they had just fought a war and were mourning the deaths of numerous friends and loved ones. Shared trauma was not conducive to a healthy relationship, after all.
Fact is, there was not enough time for help to arrive anyway.
"It's fine, mum," Hermione said as she leveled her wand at the door. She would not allow any threat pass the threshold of her home.
"He's carrying something. What's he carrying?"
"My word, could that be...?"
Hermione wondered at what had captured her parents' attention, but dared not shift her focus from the door. Wartime instincts at the fore, she was prepared to fight. The intruder would reach them in a matter of seconds. She began to silently count. One one thousand... two one thousand... three one thousand... four one thousand... then, instead of the anticipated assault, there was a polite knock.
It was at this point that she saw her parents had vacated their post at the window and made their way to the entry as well. She noted that they seemed to have done an about-face, their apprehension replaced by an inexplicable calm. A small, secretive smile even played on her mother's lips.
Another knock resounded.
"You going to answer that, poppet?" Mr. Granger had a twinkle in his eyes that would have put Professor Dumbledore to shame.
Hermione was very confused. "Mum? Dad?"
"Don't you trust your own spellcasting? You did say that the house wouldn't be noticed by anyone that wasn't in the company of a resident, if you recall."
She stated the obvious. "But, we're all here..."
"Are we?" Mrs. Granger prodded.
When there was yet another knock, Hermione kept her wand poised and cautiously advanced. Her heart beat rapidly as she neared the door. She now grasped her mother's meaning, though she could not accept what was hinted at to be true. She had been devastated by the loss of him...
She warily looked into the peephole and was startled at the identity of the person standing outside her home. A gasp escaped her.
"Quit dilly-dallying, Hermione," Mrs. Granger teasingly reprimanded. "It's bad manners to make a guest wait on the stoop!"
Lowering her wand, she used her free hand to unsteadily release the latch. She timidly eased the door open, struggling to control her nerves in the process. Then, for the first time in almost a year, she met the dark, soulful gaze of Viktor Krum.
Relief stole across his austere features upon seeing her. She registered how his entire demeanor softened in her presence, his usual rigidity dissipating, and a wave of nostalgia struck. How often had she witnessed this same reaction during her fourth year at Hogwarts?
"Hermy-own-ninny," he breathlessly greeted.
"Viktor," she responded in kind.
"I apologize for visiting your home vithout an invitation," he prefaced.
"You're always welcome," she countered in a rush.
There was movement in the cradle of Viktor's arms. Breaking eye contact, Hermione glanced down and had to blink away tears. Her beloved half-Kneazle was in the midst of wresting himself loose from Viktor's hold. Once his task had been accomplished, the feline leaped at her.
Hermione came close to buckling from the weight of the large, ginger familiar. Maintaining her balance, she hugged him tight. "Oh, Crooks! You're okay! I thought the worst!"
Crookshanks purred.
"I tried to bring him sooner," Viktor divulged. "However, you ver not here. Potter said you ver out of the country."
"You spoke with Harry?"
"And Ronald, ven I stopped by the Veasleys'," he elaborated. "I fear Ronald vos upset ven Crookshanks objected to being left there, preferring to remain vith me in Bulgaria until you got home."
"Neither of them mentioned it," Hermione muttered.
Viktor's mouth curved upwards. "The blame lies vith me. I vonted to surprise you."
"I'm definitely surprised," she acknowledged. "Grateful, too."
He dismissed her gratitude. "There's no need. Crookshanks has been a good companion these past months."
"Months?"
"He's been vith me since the Delacour-Veasley nuptials," Viktor admitted. "I spotted him ven the Burrow vos under attack. Ve apparated to safety together."
Hermione affectionately kissed the top of Crookshanks' squashed head. "In all that chaos, you went out of your way to save him..."
"Of course," he declared. "You luff him, I couldn't leave him behind."
"You're absolutely wonderful," she praised.
"As are you," he reciprocated with complete sincerity. "I've missed you, Hermy-own-ninny."
Her cheeks reddened. "And I you, Viktor. I promise to be a better correspondent in the future."
"I realize you couldn't write due to the danger. I'm just glad the danger has passed and you're unharmed." His forehead creased in concern and he gave her a careful onceover. "You are unharmed?"
"I'm mending," she honestly revealed. "Plenty suffered more than me, so I can't complain."
"Who suffered more isn't relevant," Viktor gently rebuked. "If you have complaints... if you vont to share vith someone... you should do so. Don't keep it to yourself. And, not to be forward, but I'm at your disposal should you vish it."
Crookshanks mewed in agreement.
He unabashedly continued, "Votever you decide, I'm eager to restart our correspondence ven you're ready. Your letters are special to me."
Hermione sent him a warm smile. "Thank you, Viktor. I may take you up on that offer."
"Ven you've sufficiently recovered, I may even press my luck and ask you to dinner," he jested with an underlying seriousness. "Clearly this vill merely be a ruse so that I can visit vith Crookshanks, as I vill hate to be separated from him for too long."
Her blush reemerged, not believing his ruse in the least. "Clearly."
Mrs. Granger, who had apparently been eavesdropping, chose that moment to interrupt. "Hermione, where are your manners? Invite your friend inside. Ask him to dinner."
Mr. Granger chimed in. "We insist. Crookshanks is quite discerning, so we want to meet the chap he found suitable enough to bring home."
"I'm fairly positive Viktor brought Crookshanks home, not the other way around," she dryly remarked.
"You underestimate Crookshanks," Mr. Granger lightly scolded, as if their present circumstance was owed to the machinations of her familiar.
Hermione's eyes briefly shut in embarrassment.
The half-Kneazle proceeded to jump from her arms and enter the house, intent on reuniting with her parents now that he had heard them. His bottlebrush tail haughtily swayed back and forth as he went.
"Forgive my rudeness, Mr. Krum. Would you like to come in and join Crookshanks... and the rest of us... for dinner?" Hermione inquired.
Viktor grinned broadly. "If it isn't an imposition then yes, Miss Granger, I vould like to join you all for dinner. Especially Crookshanks."