HP: TSH — Chapter 312 - Extra: Hermione and Krum

Extra: Hermione and Krum

Amid the ruins of Hogwarts, Hermione raised her wand alongside the other witches and wizards and cast Mending Charms. Collapsed walls rose back into place. Shattered glass pulled itself together and sealed, as if time were running in reverse.

She bustled around the castle grounds, moving from one mess to the next. A Gryffindor student stopped her, pointing at Roul, who had been bricked into a wall. "Hermione, what do we do about this?"

"When it comes to a Death Eater like him, there's no reason to be soft."

She blasted the wall open without a second thought, not particularly caring whether Roul caught any of the blast. Then she bound him roughly, stepped over him, and got back to repairing the wall.

She was still working steadily when a conversation drifted into her ears.

"I really didn't expect you to come, Krum." A young man's voice. "Hogwarts doesn't really have anything to do with you, does it?"

Krum's voice was low. "It does."

He paused, then added, "I came to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament. It's a beautiful place." A beat. "War is cruel. It destroys everything beautiful."

Hermione's hand faltered. She couldn't keep working. She called Praeris's name and tilted her head in Krum's direction.

Praeris understood. She waved Hermione off.

The Quidditch pitch.

The battle hadn't reached it. Nothing needed repairing here, and no one else would think to come to the pitch at a time like this.

Hermione and Krum sat in the stands.

Krum sat with his legs apart, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees. "It has been a long time," he said, "since I sat at this angle and looked at a pitch."

"You should be flying," Hermione said. "Why come somewhere you don't belong?"

"There is no place I don't belong." His English was noticeably sharper than she remembered. "Hermione, I have always known you are an extraordinary witch. You defeated him — Voldemort — the same way Dumbledore and wizards from every nation defeated Grindelwald."

"You already know everything," Hermione said. It wasn't a question.

"I know Ana López. I listen to Potterwatch. The match where Loxbury disappeared — I watched the whole thing." Krum nodded slowly. "Hermione, the Muggle-born registration policy — I worried about you. I believed you were doing something important, so I didn't look for you. Didn't want to interfere with your mission. But every day I read the missing persons. The obituaries. And I prayed for you."

Hermione said, without any particular romance in her voice, "You said it's been a long time since you sat at this angle."

Krum looked down and scratched his hair. "I thought it was a long time. Those days without any news of you." A pause. "I was very worried."

Hermione went quiet. She didn't know how to respond to that. She had thought, Krum was a star. So many people adored him. After they broke up, he should have moved on long ago, found other girls, girls who were more straightforward to love. Why was he still fixed on her? Why had he come all the way to Hogwarts?

"Hermione, I understand what you're afraid of." Krum seemed to have worked something out. "You can trust me. You don't need to protect me from the truth. I'm not afraid of war. Have you forgotten? I was a Triwizard champion."

Harry had been here. Fleur had been here. Cedric had been here. What was there that Viktor Krum couldn't do?

"I know you can do it!" Hermione's voice jumped, then she caught herself and brought it back down. "That's exactly the problem. Because I know you can — because you would — that's why I'm more afraid, not less. You're a star, Viktor. Your team is abroad. Your training, your matches, none of it is in Britain. You have no reason to take this kind of risk for me."

"You are here." Krum turned his head and looked at her, each word deliberate. "That is reason enough."

"That's exactly what I mean!" Hermione's voice shook. "Viktor, you make irrational decisions when your feelings are involved. Someone in your family has already died because of this war. How could I let you, how could I let you,"

Krum went still. Then he reached out, moving to put his arm around her, and stopped. "May I? I think you need a hug." His voice was quiet. "You look like you're about to break apart."

"Don't ask!" Hermione glared at him, furious and miserable at once.

So Krum put his arm around her.

"I understand, Hermione." His voice was steady. "I will make decisions that look irrational to you, because of you. But I'm not someone without judgment. I will assess whether I have the ability to do something. Whether I can survive it. I will prepare thoroughly. And if you told me not to come to Britain at all, to support you openly from outside, like Ms. López does, I would understand that too. That is also a way of helping."

"Your English really has improved," Hermione said, a sharp edge in her voice. "Not pretending you can't understand anymore?"

"I listen to Potterwatch," Krum said, with a trace of innocence. "For several months now."

"At least let me do something. For you. For Hogwarts." He said it simply, then suddenly stood up. In front of her, somewhat stiffly, he turned in a slow circle. "See. No need to worry. I fought in the defense of Hogwarts, and I am still standing here in front of you. I didn't die. I won't die." A brief pause. "I should be good for a few more decades at least."

Hermione covered her face and cried.

Krum crouched down immediately and wrapped both arms around her.

To say she wasn't afraid would have been a lie. The weight she was carrying had grown too heavy to hide.

She had wanted to protect her parents. She had wanted to keep Krum from being dragged down because of her. But Krum had thrown away every consideration of his own bright future and walked straight to her anyway. What if something had happened to him? Hermione couldn't even let herself think about it.

Through everything he had done, Krum showed her that her fear was unfounded. He could take care of himself. He could stand beside her.

After Hogwarts was rebuilt, Hermione sat her N.E.W.T. exams. At the same time, Krum traveled to Australia, where he had agreed to appear as a special guest at a Quidditch match.

Dear Hermione,

It is autumn in Australia now, though Hamilton is still rather warm. I found your father and mother at the Great Barrier Reef. They are doing well.

Your mother seems to take notice of every teenage girl who passes by. Your father cut his foot on a reef, but he bandaged it himself and refused my help. He said he is a dentist and more qualified than I am. (Laughs.)

...

By now, you should be sitting your N.E.W.T. exams. I believe you will pass and do brilliantly, and I also believe you will want to know how your mum and dad are getting on.

Please forgive me for taking it upon myself to approach them. But I did not use any magic on your father. I am not skilled with healing spells or potions.

After her last exam, Hermione received the letter by owl. She stood there not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"I thought you'd be furious." Ron gesticulated dramatically, pulling a face. "That man is far too much!"

Hermione shot him a look, still caught between laughing and crying. "He must have gone up to them because he saw my dad was injured."

"Ah, the putrid smell of young love," Ron said, then turned to Harry. "And you! Harry!"

"Oh look," Harry said. "Lavender's here."

Ron immediately started smoothing down his clothes, turned around, and found no one there. He spun back with a furious, humiliated expression and launched himself at Harry.

When he finally sat up, dusty and disheveled, Hermione said sweetly, "Good evening, Lavender!"

"Knock it off, Hermione!" Ron looked up in irritation and found himself staring directly at Lavender's beaming face.

"Good evening, Hermione!" Lavender said.

For the graduation ball, Krum insisted on coming to Hogwarts as Hermione's partner.

"During the Triwizard Tournament, you danced with me," he said. "For the graduation ball, it should also be me. Shouldn't it?"

After the ceremony, Hermione and Krum traveled to Australia together to restore her parents' memories.

Mr. Granger was astonished. He recognized the tall, broad-shouldered young man, he had seen him before, and had even remarked at the time that he hadn't expected a Bulgarian's English to be so good. The much greater surprise was that the person who had taught him English turned out to be his own daughter.

Not long after, Hermione walked into the Ministry of Magic without any difficulty and took her first step toward the goal she had carried for years: the House-Elf Reform Act.

It was not going to be easy.

The first obstacle was her personal life. Tabloids and minor publications swarmed her like bees scenting honey, and Hermione found them impossible to shake.

The graduation ball photograph was the worst of it, her and Krum, dancing together, printed large and bold across the papers. The name they gave her: rumored girlfriend of Quidditch star Krum.

"They can't see a single thing I actually do!" Hermione laughed out of sheer frustration. "They only care about who I'm dating!"

"Might as well get used to it now," Ron said, spreading his hands with a resigned shrug. "Think about it, our old title was 'friends of Harry Potter, the Chosen One.' Right, Harry?"

Harry raised both hands. "Hey. Leave me out of this."

"No getting out of it!" Ron held up the paper. "Look at this. The things they print."

The rumors around Hermione were endless. Her supposed relationship with Harry during their time on the run. (Ron: Where was I in all of this?! Hermione: You stormed off in a rage, remember? Ron: I came back!) Her relationship with Krum. Rumors about her and every male politician she had ever been in the same room with.

"You should ask Praeris," Harry said, sharp as ever. "I've never heard a single rumor about Stuart."

Praeris's response was simple. "You didn't spend money, Hermione."

"That's wrong!" Hermione said, furious. "Why should we pay for things we never did?"

Stella laughed outright. "Exactly right, why should we? Oh, but you know how it is. The glamour we have is only on the surface. Standing where we stand, how many more mouths do we have to feed than any man in our position? A man's scandal is called charm. A woman's becomes depravity. Ridiculous."

"At least we have each other." Stella winked at Praeris. "And we have Draco and Uncle Lucius to thank, well, their money. Granger, don't let those people get to you. Some of those mouthpieces will change their tune for a handful of Galleons."

Hermione looked at Stella, then at Praeris, and said in flat exasperation, "All you're doing is feeding their appetite. It's a little now. Later they'll want more."

"True," Praeris said, perfectly calm. "Some people are unruly. Sometimes they need to be reminded of their place."

"Hermione, everyone on this path makes their own choice. Some choose to blend in with the world and do what good they can within narrow limits. Some refuse to go along with the rot and set out to change things entirely. Your choice is the harder one. But it's also the one most likely to matter." She held Hermione's gaze. "We are looking forward to what you'll do."

Hermione said quietly, "I was wrong."

"Hmm?" Praeris and Stella looked at each other.

"Viktor and I broke up again." Hermione shook her head. "I convinced myself that Viktor's fame was too bright, that it was drowning out everything I was trying to build for myself. We had a terrible fight. I thought ending things would solve the problem, at least for a while. Once I'd made a real name for myself, who could deny my ability then?"

"But I was completely wrong." Her voice was steady now, and certain. "My goal has always been to change the rules. That means being attacked is part of it, it's inevitable. The moment I give ground to one wave of public pressure, I've surrendered to the very system I'm trying to dismantle. I'd just be another player in this dirty game, forever at its mercy. And those same rules would go on holding back every woman who comes after me. If I can't even stand firm against this, how am I supposed to liberate house-elves?"

Praeris's eyes lit up. She glanced over at Stella. Stella caught the look, rolled her eyes slightly, and kept stirring her coffee. A few seconds passed. Then she said, "Granger. I respect that kind of nerve. If you ever need anything, my door is open."

Honestly, Stella was thoroughly tired of managing gossipmongers herself. If Hermione could actually change something, she and Praeris were willing to help.

It was only much later that Hermione learned Stella Stuart's secret boyfriend at the time had been Marcus Flint. A similar trap, a similar fight. That was what made them allies.

Hermione found Krum and told him everything, what had happened, what she wanted, what she believed in. "You once told me I could trust you. That I didn't need to hide things from you." She looked at him. "Is that still true?"

"It's still true," Krum said.

He understood her choices completely. He knew this brilliant witch was fighting a greater war than most people would ever see, and he had chosen, with his eyes open, to give ground and give support where she needed it.

It wasn't an easy thing to endure. He sometimes complained about how rarely they saw each other, but that was all it was, words. In practice, Krum stood by Hermione without wavering. He coached her on handling reporters. Sometimes he used his international standing to speak in her favor, publicly, as an old friend who had known her for years.

Years later, Hermione succeeded Stella Stuart as Minister for Magic, her reputation built on ability no one could question and a record that spoke for itself. She pushed through the House-Elf Liberation Policy and watched it pass into the history of magic.

The papers still covered her relationship with Krum.

But the headline had changed.

No longer: Big star Krum and his rumored girlfriend.

Now: Minister for Magic Hermione Granger, and her partner, renowned Quidditch star Viktor Krum.

➤ Next: Extra: The Later Praeris Prince