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Dear Viktor,
I know this letter probably greets you with great surprise. Years have gone by since last we spoke and in those years so much has changed for us both. I am fortunate enough to have been able to follow you in the headlines as your career kept your life very public. I was, however, saddened to hear of your retirement from quidditch, which is why this letter finds you now, after all this time.
I am reaching out to ask you how you are. How are you handling the loss of your greatest passion, your love, and your career? Over the years there was never a moment you ever truly left my mind. I followed the articles and secretly cheered you on. And now that has all come to a halt. The media is less interested in you and that leaves me wondering: What’s next for Viktor Krum?
I want you to know that while I was distant from you for years—to which I apologize—that I am here for you now. If there is anything you need as you rebuild your life without quidditch I would love to be considered a stepping stone.
~Hermione Granger
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Dear Hermione,
I am pleased to receive a letter from you. No amount of time would change my excitement to hear from you. I am having the good days and the bad days since my retirement. I do not know how much of the story you have heard, but I am with a rare disorder, not being able to play like I used to. That was the reason behind my retirement. I did not get to end my career with quidditch on my own terms, I think that is the hardest part of it all. But I am managing. I am young to retire, these players are having careers later in life and I am feeling robbed, but I am trying to not be upset all the time. Trying to think what is next. But right now, I am taking a break. I have settled into a small cabin in the mountains to spend time to myself, without the questions and cameras.
I have never had a break since I was a boy in Bulgaria. I was always with the training and the quidditch camps, and then I was drafted by Bulgaria before I was even an adult. So, I am taking time to rest, it feels good.
I do not know much about you anymore. You are like a mystery to me. You are like, how do they say it? The one that got away?
I think I would like more of these letters from you. I think having that to look forward to would be nice, help me fill the time. I have so much time now.
-Krum
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Dearest Viktor,
I don’t know where to start when it comes to telling you of my endeavours since we last spoke. I know a lot of my life was public knowledge after the war as I was painted a hero, but I found myself to be a rather private person, so I stopped doing the interviews as soon as I could.
I am content.
I wouldn’t say I have anything of much interest going on right now. I work a desk job that I feel underwhelmed with, but it pays well, and it’s a profession that is needed and helpful, so I should be proud. But I’ll admit, I struggle with feelings of complacency quite often. I wanted so much more. But I think, perhaps, I settled in many ways.
I had heard of your possible illness when your retirement was announced but I can never tell what of the headlines are true and what is fabricated to sell a print.
Are you being taken care of? How are you treating your illness? Is there a cure?
~Hermione Granger
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Dear Hermione,
I am saddened to hear of your feelings of complacency. I always imagined you in some grand role, saving the world—you were always the smartest and bravest person I knew. Have you considered stepping away from your job and starting over? I am learning that it is never too late in life to start fresh—even if you are forced into it.
I wouldn’t say I am being taken care of, because I am not in a position to need care, but I have days that are harder on me than others. You see, I found myself struggling to focus when I was flying—this is not good for seeker—the higher up I got, the harder it was to see. It was something called Virtigo Altitudio. I am mostly ok when I am on my own two feet, but when I fly it is like suction in my ears, and my depth perception is gone. Very scary to be flying top speed and not knowing if you are close to the ground or just suffering from your illness.
Enough about me, you know plenty about me. What about you? Where are you living? Are you happy? Are you still reading the books all the time?
I missed you for years, Hermione. I thought of you. I was happy for you to have found love. But I always was in my head thinking of you and hoping you were well.
-Krum
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Dearest Viktor,
The turnaround time on that last letter was impressive. I was so pleased to have received it so quickly. I have been feeling a little down the last few days and your letter made me smile.
Truth is, I have always missed you, too. I have always wondered what our lives would have looked like if I had not been so deeply rooted in the war. You see, I found myself grasping for comfort from Ron and Harry. We were all alone, and scared, and starving while on the run. Harry was like a brother to me, so his love was that of the family sort. But Ron, he and I always danced around with romance. I felt for him deeply, as a friend, and then, when times grew hard, I clung to him as a lover. We married right after the war, as did Harry to his wife, who is also Ronald’s sister, Ginny. It was what a lot of war survivors did, we all married fairly young. War causes people to do things like that: act first, think second.
I found myself in a marriage with someone before either of us had a chance to grow up. And when we did grow up, we realized we had nothing in common. He was loving, and sweet, and silly, but he was not interested in the same things as I. We found ourselves unable to communicate. We found ourselves fighting over petty things because we had never learned how to fight as adults. We were children playing house. So, after three years, and a good fight to stay married, we called it quits and filed for divorce.
But I had lost so much more than just my marriage. I lost the only family I had. Ronald’s family had taken me in, and after the divorce, I realized that without Ron, I was very much alone. I allowed myself to grow all consumed with work. I have done things I am very proud of with my research, and that’s where my focus lies now. But I am starting to grow tired of it. The routines. Wake, work, come home, sleep. Sometimes I go out. But mostly, I keep to myself.
I fear I backed myself into this corner, and I don’t know how to get out.
I hope that wasn’t too much.
On a lighter note, I found some photographs of us from the Yule ball. You were so handsome that night. I still get butterflies when I think of the day you asked me to go with you. You were the first man to pay any attention to me, and you were Viktor Krum!
I think you should know, I find myself blushing at the mere thought of it all.
~Hermione Granger
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Dear Hermione,
I am a selfish man.
I am sorry to hear of your divorce.
But my heart hammers at the idea of these letters growing our affections.
In your first letter, you mentioned that I had lost my love when I lost quidditch, but you were wrong, I lost my love when I lost you.
I have met women along the way. My career kept my options open. I have dated. I have had my fair share of lovers. But I have never felt in my heart, the way you made me feel all those years ago.
In the theme of being honest, I did not wish to hear from a married version of you. I wanted you to be happy, but I lived in constant jealousy of your ex-husband. I met him and I did not approve of him for you.
I am being so honest I fear I might scare you away. But, this is my heart. And I have carried these feelings for so long now, it feels like I am finally being set free.
I do not write to you with the expectation of us rekindling our love. But I would be a fool to not try.
I have not gone a day since I first saw you that I did not think of you. I see you in the fall leaves, the colours a reminder of the way your hair shined gold in the sunlight. I am reminded of you in the ocean’s waves, your power, your strength, so mighty—you always were to me. I am reminded of you in the hot summers, the sweat on my brow, the memory of you gently wiping it away with your thumb on the grounds of Hogwarts. But mostly I am reminded of you with the first snowfall—I am reminded of our first kiss under the mistletoe. You were nervous. I was more nervous than I let on. But when our lips met, our nerves melted away, as the snow would too at the first sign of a warm sunny day.
I lost quidditch. But I can say wholeheartedly, it was not as hard as losing you.
I will leave you with this.
I know this will all come as a lot to unpackage. And if you do not feel the same, that is okay. But please do not let my feelings for you keep you from writing. Your words on parchment, the fine lines of your scrawl, the feminine loops of your letters, the way you sign your name, I don’t know what I would do if you took that away from me now.
-Viktor
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Dearest Viktor,
I had no idea you felt this way after all this time. How was I to ever imagine you, Viktor Krum, could care so dearly for me after all these years.
I am a selfish woman, as you are a selfish man, and must admit that my first letter did, in fact, come to you with the intent of stirring up the old feelings we had for each other all those years ago.
I sent it with hopes that this is what would happen.
I just never imagined you would word it so eloquently.
My knees still shake thinking that somewhere in the world, you are missing me still, and wanting me still.
It’s hard. Divorce has a way of convincing people that they are damaged goods, and maybe I am. I was terrified to tell you of my marriage to Ronald, afraid that you would not want someone who had already taken sacred vows for another man.
But know this, I married him knowing my love for him was faulty because no woman should walk the aisle in a wedding gown with the wonder of another man locked deep in her heart—and for that, I will forever be apologizing to Ronald, because I knew, that day, our wedding day, that no matter how much I loved him, he did not have my heart wholly.
And now, that is done, that chapter of my life is closed, he has remarried and has a child on the way—and I can finally be free to admit that it was always you, Viktor. It was always you.
Do you think less of me now? Knowing how awful of a person I was to Ronald? The games I played for years. The faking it. The emotional infidelity I went to bed with each night lying next to him, wondering where you were, who you were with, and if I would ever find myself in your arms again.
Can you ever forgive me for being such a horrible wife to the man who stole me from you?
~Hermione Granger
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Dear Hermione,
Your honestly is both like a knife to my chest and a breath of fresh air at the same time. I hated reading about your marriage, both out of jealousy and sadness. I found myself wishing I would have tried harder, fought harder for you.
Maybe if I had not let you go so easily, I could have saved you from years of hurt, and emotional distress.
I do not find myself in a position to forgive you, as I do not think you did anything wrong. Life comes in seasons, and your ex was just that—a season. He is happy now. You letting him go was the best thing you could have done, and the ultimate act of repentance in my honest opinion.
Thank you for your honesty.
I am a selfish man indeed because while you poured your heart out of your marital sorrows, I read joyfully knowing you thought of me in your darkest hours.
I am a selfish, selfish man, and wish you here, now, next to me. I would show you all the things I have dreamt of doing to you.
I do not know how much longer these letters will suffice. I need you. I need you like I need air. Knowing you feel the same has robbed me of my regular pleasures. Food is without taste, sleep is restless, the ocean is bleak, you are the only thing I want.
Come to me. Christmas is near. Come, let me kiss you again under the mistletoe as I did so many years ago. Let me kiss away your nerves and bring back light to our dim worlds.
-Viktor
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Dearest Viktor,
Okay.
~Hermione
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Dear Hermione,
What is this? Okay? What does this mean?
-Viktor
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Dearest Viktor,
Sorry. I got overly excited. It means yes, yes, I will come to you. I have two weeks off for holiday. I will come! I will come! I will come!
That is if you were serious. I sent the letter in a frenzy of emotions. I didn’t think it through. Maybe you also spoke out of turn? Maybe you are regretting inviting me? Please do not feel abashed to resend the invitation.
~Hermione
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Get your ass to Bulgaria!
-Krum
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Dearest Viktor,
It has been arranged. I will arrive on Christmas Eve; my ass will be in tow as well.
~Hermione Granger
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Dear Hermione,
I am counting the days. I am filled with nerves and anticipation. What if I am not as you remembered? What if I do not please your eyes anymore?
I am feeling suddenly very unsure that I will be enough. I am just me, just Viktor now. I am not a famous athlete, does this take away the appeal like it did to so many other women?
-Krum
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Dearest Viktor,
We are in the home stretch, I will be there soon, and lay all your worries to rest.
I never cared about you being a quidditch player. So, I also don’t care about you not being a quidditch player.
All I need is you, and your grouchy, yet mild manor.
I haven’t spent Christmas with anyone in years—I didn’t realize how sad that is until now.
Thank you for saving me from another sad holiday alone.
~ Hermione Granger
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Dear Hermione,
I have spent the last few holidays alone as well.
This year, we break that tradition and start something new, something that will always be ours.
My house is small and modest, but I got a tree and I have decorated it with many lights. You will look beautiful with the glow of Christmas on your naked body. I hope that is not too forward. But I plan to undress you slowly and take you apart with my mouth, and hands and…
Get here and I will show you.
-Krum
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Viktor Krum! How dare you send me such a letter knowing damn well we still have days between.
I long for all those things.
I long for you.
~Hermione