1.
Viktor Krum was generally a pleasant enough fellow. A bit surly looking, but he had a rather kind heart and a good outlook on life.

This disposition was not in effect when Viktor was in the Hogwarts Library.

He slouched his way across the carpet, tired as hell but still trying to outshuffle the pack of girls that seemed to be tracking his every move.

Vaguely, he remembered that, in nature, it was not unusual for one gender of a species to preen and make themselves more colourful in order to attract a good mate. However, Viktor was sure that the particular shade of pink splashed across the girls lips was nothing ever found in the great outdoors. He shuddered, and hurriedly made his way behind a large and forbidding stack of Wizarding Law books, pretending to be engrossed in outdated thoughts on Wizarding and Veela marriage.

'Oh, bother,' came a soft voice from across the stacks.

Viktor peeked over the tottering mountain of books to see a short, slim girl with more hair than should be legal reaching for a book that was perched at the very top.

She jumped up and down as quietly as possible, trying not to attract the attention of the vaguely-menacing, bird-like librarian, who was rumoured to keep a switch behind her desk. Viktor chanced a look at the top, and was surprised to see a copy of Tzvetan's Thesis on Morality in the Dark Arts. Viktor had always found this book to be rather interesting, especially when Tzvetan's opinions could be used to counter-weight the dark Wizards where he lived, but most people dismissed it as merely archaic prose.

Which probably means that the words were too big and long for them he mused. Still, it was oddly nice to encounter a female who wasn't trying to attract his attention with horrible colours. Taking a quick glance around, he poked his arm up and tapped the book enough so that it fell over into her hands.

'Great,' she said happily at this sudden turn of fortune, then turned around and headed towards a table in the rear. Viktor hastily circled a few rows on Goblin politics and slid into a nearby table, intrigued by this girl who had no interest in Quidditch, Bulgaria, or bright pink lipstick. He dug a copy of Charms theory from his own bag and started to read, forgetting to watch the girl as he immersed himself in complicated equations.

When he remembered to look up, she was reading through the book at an incredible speed, soaking up all the information she could.

Interesting girl, he thought to himself. A loud squawking noise interrupted his train of thought; the horde of girls were back.

'Kuha lejka,' he muttered to himself. He was strangely happy to see the girl purse her lips at the wild group of girls as they tried to get his attention, tying scarves with his homeland's flag on it. At last, someone who was as annoyed at their stupidity as he was.

He would have to meet this interesting girl soon.

2.

It was a week later, and she still hadn't noticed him, except when he was between her and the herd of cows that insisted on retracing his every move.

He had tried many, many tricks. He had learnt her name from the irritating blonde boy who shadowed him when Viktor walked around the school, pestering him with questions about Durmstrang. It sounded like a cat trying to gargle marbles, but he swore that he would learn it before he tried to speak with her.

'Hernoes-nanny. Herm-nan-nonnies. Harmoninays.'

Damn it. Damn it all to hell.

He had brought plenty of books that he thought might catch her interest. He had pulled a back muscle carrying all fifteen volumes of Väinämöinen's Practical Uses for Impractical Hexes. He had brought himself closer and closer towards her, trying to remain out of eyeshot. Or at least out of scope with the twittering chits that insisted on cluttering up the library.

Nothing. Nothing at all.

This called for drastic measures.

He would get up. He would walk over to her. He would offer her his hands, shake hers, and introduce himself.

He would do it.

He looked up, and saw her shooting the girls a look that should have burnt their robes to a crisp.

He would do it tomorrow.

---

Viktor swung his legs over the edge of the ship, watching the night sky breathe ripples onto the lake. The Giant Squid waved lazily to him as it went out for its nightly laps around the pool of water. Viktor picked invisible lint of his pants as he pondered the predicament he was in.

It was going on two weeks now, and the only things he had gotten from the girl was a polite nod of the head when they passed one another in the Advanced Arithmancy section, and a murmured 'Thank you' when he retrieved a copy of Olaus Borrichius' So You Want to Make a Philosopher's Stone? from the top shelf for her. Other than that, nothing. Nothing at all.

He turned and looked over his shoulder as a classmate, Alex, approached him.

'Viktor,' he said politely, leaning on the railings.

'Vot do you vant, Alex?' Viktor asked wearily, rubbing his eyes. Most of his schoolmates disdained his sudden need to speak English on a regular basis, but Alex was one of the few who either saw the usefulness of it, or simply didn't care.

Alex shrugged, stretching his arms as he looked into the sky. 'You haff been busy, lately? No one ever can find you. Karkaroff was ready to throw a... fit? Vhen ve could not find you yesterday.'

'Po dyavolite,' he swore harshly, glowering at the tree line. 'Vot did he vant?'

'Something about the Yule Ball, I think,' said Alex. 'Vanted to know who you are taking.' Alex turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. 'Who are you taking? I promise I vill not tell Karkaroff, but I am curious.'

'I'm-' Viktor cut himself off. Up until this point, he had not considered taking anyone to the Ball. Truth be told, he wouldn't go if Karkaroff had threatened to hang him by his ankles if he didn't.

'I'm vorking on it,' he said. 'Now go avay, before I pitch you off the ship.'

'Votever,' said Alex, and walked off. Viktor groaned to himself.

Now he really had to talk to her, before Karkaroff got it in his brain to fix him up with some random girl. He'd probably put him up with a seven foot monster with a moustache and immpeccable blood-lines.

Viktor got up and started back to his room, practising the girl's name again.

'Hear-me-non. Hesaymon- no, that is not even close. Harmahneinee.'

Damn.

Viktor made his way towards the table where Hermione was sitting, engrossed in a pamphlet entitled What Every Witch Should Know: Dealing with Veela.

This was it.

Do or die.

Emphasis on the die bit.

Come on, Viktor. You can do this. You are a Quidditch Star. You are a Tri-Wizard Champion.

You can't even pronounce her name yet.

Damn.

Only the perceived threat of Headmaster Karkaroff setting him up with some insane Quidditch harpy forced Viktor's feet towards the girl, who remained happily oblivious to the scowling Bulgarian boy who was slowly but surely destroying the carpet of the library as he shuffled his way over to her.

He managed to loom over her for a full five minutes before she took notice of his presence.

'Um, hi,' she said nervously, watching his face grow into a deeper scowl. Viktor stood there for half a minute before his synapses started firing properly again.

She said hello, idiot! Say something back!

He blinked. 'Hallo.'

Way to sweep her off her feet, Krum.

'Can I help you with something?' she asked. She started to sink into her seat as Krum continued to stare a hole through her forehead.

'Oh,' he mumbled, trying to think up something brilliant and witty to cover up his bad entrance. He pointed at the pamphlet she was holding. 'This pamphlet is no good. Does not cover things like chemical reactions of some people to Veela.'

And now you insult her choice in reading material. Krum- zero, world- five million points. Go find a desk to smash your head into, Krum, you've lost your chance.

He waited for her to say something scathing, or borderline polite to drive him away. Instead, she looked at the pamphlet, then at him, set the pamphlet down, and pulled a seat out with her foot.

'What's it missing?' she asked, her curiosity obvious. 'I did notice it's missing a great deal about the effects of half and quarter-veela on beings like giants and centaurs, but I wasn't aware there were differing reactions due to genetics.'

Krum shook his head slightly, trying to understand everything she said. Taking the seat she had pulled out, he sat down and, carefully choosing his words, began a long-winded explanation on variations between Veela and human chemical balances.

---

'I am so sorry my English is not very good,' said Viktor as they sat on the front steps of Hogwarts. Hermione's Arithmancy class had been canceled, and he had lured her out of the library with promises of a translation of Marius Sarchadjiev's Twenty Ways to Outhex Your Opponents. It was the first time they had spoken since he had talked with her about Veelas, his unwanted harem scaring him off every time he tried to approach her.

'It's fine, Viktor,' she said, smiling. 'I can understand you just fine. Your English is coming along well.'

'If you say so,' he said doubtfully. 'I speak better than blonde boy's friends, the ones who look like big rocks, but I think this does not say much about my English.'

He was rewarded with a loud whoop of laughter, Hermione's cheeks turning bright pink in the cold air. He grinned, a not-so-uncommon occurence these days, and the two of them shared a good chuckle for a moment.

'Viktor?'

He looked at her, brushing his hair out of his eyes. 'Yes?'

She stared at the stone, embarrassment splashing streaks of red on her cheeks. 'What- What's it like to fly? I mean, really fly?'

Viktor looked at her in surprise. 'I thought you haff flown before,' he said carefully.

'Well, kind of,' she said, 'but under extreme circumstances. I've never, you know, just flown.'

Viktor sat back against the stairs, watching his breath flutter by in small white whisps.

'It is hard to explain, but I vill try,' he said eventually, rubbing his jaw.

'It is very free vhen you fly, and you are flying because you vant to. It's never the same, alvays something new, something you haff never done before." Viktor looked up into the sky, as if he could see himself in the air. 'No one can tell you vot to do, vhere to go. It is just you, alone, and it is like you can do anything. It's just, a sort of, rush, I think they call it. Nothing to hold you back, and a whole new vorld to discover.'

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.

'It's like that for me and magic,' Hermione blurted out. Viktor shifted to look at her, nodding for Hermione to continue.

'It might be different for you,' she continued, 'because you've always known magic. It's different for a Muggleborn. Whenever I learn a new spell, or learn something new about this world, it just makes me feel like I'm eleven again, and I've just found out I can do these things, you know? It's never the same thing twice. There's always a new spell to learn, or even to invent. A new use for an old charm, as it were.' She said it all in a rush, and she looked at him fearfully.

Viktor nodded slowly, digesting what she had said. 'But flying is new for everyone,' he said, 'and there is alvays that feeling....'

'...like you've discovered a secret that only you know,' Hermione finished. 'It's like a new book.'

'Or a new friend,' said Viktor, without thinking.

'What?" asked Hermione.

'Nothing,' said Viktor quickly.

'Oh,' said Hermione, pointing at a figure in the distance. 'Look, your Headmaster is coming.'

Viktor cursed under his breath. 'Come, let's go back to the library,' he said quietly, holding a hand out for her. 'I vill read translation of the book for you there. It's cold out here for you, I think.'

Hermione looked at him in curiosity, but took his hand and got up, walking next to him as they hurried through the empty halls, back to the security of the Library.

---

'That was fascinating,' said Hermione, her eyes bright. 'I thought the book would be a joke- you have to admit, the title doesn't sound very studious- but Sarchadjiev's thoughts on using alternatives based on basic cleaning charms was rather brilliant.'

'It is very useful, yes,' said Viktor, pleased that he had been able to translate the text as well as he had.

They chatted for a while, but then fell silent, and Viktor's stomach turned cold.

Can't keep her interest on anything besides books. Way to go. Still haven't even tried to say her name. Admit it, you're in over your head.

Viktor sighed heavily without realising, looking at his hands. They had captured many Snitches, turned many pages, but they were shaking harder than then first time he had attempted a Wronski Feint.

'Are you alright, Viktor?'

He watched Hermione's face grow worried from the corner of his eye, and he stiffened his spine. Only get one chance on this deal.

'Hermy-own,' he blurted out, then mentally smacked himself.

Her small, amused laugh only made him blush.

'Viktor,' she said, plucking at his sleeve. 'Viktor,' she said again, more insistently. He turned his face to look at her. 'Viktor, a lot of people can't pronounce my name properly,' she explained. 'It's a mouthful. Doesn't work very well phonetically. Don't worry about it. You'll get it eventually.'


'Vould you go to ball vith me?' he said in one breath, speaking as low and fast as he possibly could.

Hermione blinked. 'I'm sorry,' she said, 'what did you say?'

Viktor gritted his teeth, willing himself not to screw up badly. 'Vould you accompany me to ball, please?'

Hermione made a soft oh noise, letting her fingers untwist themselves from his robes. He stared at the ground, embarrassed beyond all belief. He really had made an ass of himself, this time, thinking she would even consider-

'I would love to,' she said softly, and he looked up to see her smiling.

'I know ve are not knowing one another very vell,' he continued on. 'Ve haff only spoken tvice, and ve are only getting to know vone another, and I still cannot say your name right, but I vill try to get it right before ball, and I vould really like if you could go with me, I think you are very nice and smart and-'

'I said yes,' Hermione interrupted, a real grin exploding on her face. 'In fact, I would be honoured to go with you.'

'Oh, good,' he breathed, relief warring with happiness on his face. 'I have been trying to ask you for long time now, is very hard.'

'Why?' she asked.

'Is always hard to ask pretty girl to dance,' he said honestly. 'Harder vhen the pretty girl is also smart, and even harder vhen you cannot pronounce her name.'

Hermione laughed a little, then turned to look at a gaggle of students who were entering the library.

'I should go,' she said quietly, 'before your fanclub mauls me for being in the same general vicinity as you.'

'You could alvays just turn them into cows or something,' he grunted, a frown re-appearing on his face. 'They vould still sound the same.' Hermione shook her head, but giggled.

'Still,' she said, 'I think it would be best if we didn't talk about this. Not that I'm ashamed to be going with you,' she added hastily, when he opened his mouth, 'but half the girls in my Common Room won't shut up about you, and the boys don't either, for that matter. I wouldn't get any peace at all. Plus, won't everyone be surprised when we show up together?'

Together. That sounded nice.

'Yes,' he said, nodding. 'Also, I do not think many of my classmates vould be happy to know I am going vith Hogvarts student. Especially not pure-blooded one, such a thing is unknown to them. Ve vill keep secret, then.'

'Okay,' said Hermione, looking relieved. 'Tell you what- I'll meet you here before dinner. The library is usually pretty empty then, we can talk about robes and things like that.'

'Alright,' said Viktor. He gathered her books, shoved them into her bag, and helped her put it on.

'I vill see you later, then?' he said.

'It's a date,' she grinned. She didn't seem to notice the faint pink in his cheeks when she said that. She turned around and started to walk away, then looked over her shoulder.

'Thanks for asking me,' she whispered, and Viktor smiled broadly.

'Thank you for going vith me,' he murmured to her back as she left in haste, running for her next class.

Viktor stayed in the library for a while, then picked up his book and started for outside, shuffling along in a rather cheerful fashion as he made his way towards the ship. He ambled down the deck and towards his room, ready for a nap and maybe the beginning of plans for his date to the ball.

He opened his door, expecting nothing but his owl and his bed.

Karkaroff was waiting for him.

'Ve need to talk.'

'Ve need to talk.'

Viktor's heart plummeted into his stomach, taking a sharp left-turn and lodging somewhere in his lower intestine.

Karkaroff waved impatiently for him to come in. Viktor shuffled nervously towards him, flinching slightly when his Headmaster waved the door shut.

'Sit, Viktor,' he said, in what he must have thought to be a friendly, fatherly voice. A part of Viktor sighed; he already had a father, and Karkaroff was about as paternal as a praying mantis. Looked like one too, now that he thought about it.

'So,' said Karkaroff, stroking his beard. Viktor made a mental note to shave before meeting Hermione later.

'I haff not seen you in a vhile,' continued Karkaroff. 'You haff been running around Hogvarts, I hear? Vhy is that?'

'Is cold on ship,' muttered Viktor, then immediately cursed himself. This is Hogwarts, idiot, this is spring-time weather where you come from!

Karkaroff raised an eyebrow, but chose to let the comment pass. 'So, you are exploring school, then? Getting to know it better?'

In ways you can't begin to imagine, Viktor thought, trying to repress the urge to swing Karkaroff out the window of his cabin. The Giant Squid had looked rather hungry...

'Viktor,' said Karkaroff again, a little more impatiently. 'Who are you taking to ball?'

'Vot?' asked Viktor incredulously. He was expecting questions about Dumbledore, whom Karkaroff seemed unusually interested in, or the mad-man who taught their Defence class, or even the Tournament. Why the hell....

Oh, shit.

Viktor clenched his fists. Karkaroff was trying to set him up with someone, he just knew it. He did it all the time. 'Ve must preserve the blood-lines, Viktor, and you are close to royalty these days,', Karkaroff had told him.

Viktor was not particularly interested in royalty, girls following him because he played Quidditch, or blood-lines. The only thing he was currently interested in was his bed (which Karkaroff was sitting on), his owl (who looked ready to rip Karkaroff's hair off), and a certain frazzled fourth-year with a big smile and bigger brains.

'I know a nice girl who is a year below you,' said Karkaroff airily, as if it were of no great importance. 'Very pretty, slim, and she is distant relative of Romanovs. She votched you at Quidditch Cup, thought you vere spectacular.'

Viktor gave an almighty grunt in response. 'If I vanted vapid idiot, I could haff asked blonde-boy's friend,' he muttered to himself. Karkaroff affected not to notice.

'Or,' he said, 'you could ask that nice girl from Slytherin, the von with long black hair and cat.'

Viktor looked at him incredulously. 'You mean the one named Millicent? No, I think not, she looks like she has eaten rocks for breakfast since she vos three. She vould probably punch me in the face if I asked her, and I haff broken my nose enough times already.'

'Viktor,' growled Karkaroff, throwing his hands in the air, 'there are many pretty girls here. Hogvarts, Durmstrang, even Beauxbatons. Many know you from Quidditch. Slytherin, I think, has many pretty girls. Vot do you vant from von?'

Bushy hair, high intelligence, good sense of humour, and a name impossible to pronounce. Why? Viktor bit his tongue before he accidently let loose his plans for the ball. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, Viktor chose to say nothing, but let his features settle back into the scowl that normally resided there.

'Viktor,' wheedled Karkaroff, 'you must haff someone in mind.'

'Yes,' said Viktor tersely. 'I thought I vould ask Giant Squid. She is very nice and probably dances vell. Or maybe I vill take Snape, you seem to like him enough.'

Karkaroff turned an odd shade of green, pushed Viktor aside, and stomped out the door.

---

Viktor hovered around Grooming Your Grindylow: How To Tame Your Wilder Pets, looking around nervously for a short figure with big, brown locks.

'Viktor?'

He jumped half a kilometer into the air before he realised it was Hermione standing behind him, a bemused look on her face.

'Don't worry,' she said dryly, 'I'm not interested in your autograph.'

'You startled me,' he said brusquely, trying to retain some dignity.

'Only a little,' she smirked. 'Come on, let's go sit in the back.'

She led him to a small cubbyhole in the wall, just big enough for both of them to sit down in. They settled down, taking far too much time making space and smoothing out invisible wrinkles in their clothing. After a while, they stopped fidgeting, and stared at the empty space in front of them.

'So,' said Hermione after a while, breaking the awkward silence. 'What colour are your robes?'

'Red, dark,' said Viktor, lacing his fingers together.

'Oh,' she said. 'Okay.'

Fidget. Fidget. Damn. Where had the easy-going conversation gone?

'D'you like blue?' she asked suddenly. 'It's my favourite colour, and I have blue robes. Should I put my hair up? Oh, how tall are you, do I need to wear flats or heels? I'll have to get something for my hair.... is blue okay? Really? Because I can always charm it another colour. Heels, or flats? Should I wear my hair up or down? What do you like better? Curly or straight? Maybe I need to get my robes hemmed... oh, bother, I wasn't planning on going to the ball, I don't know what I have to do."

Viktor's eyes rose to new and perilous heights as Hermione prattled on. He had no knowledge of the things girls did to get ready for fancy events, and he wasn't quite sure he wanted to.

'You do not haff to do all that,' Viktor said after a while, Hermione finally stopping to breathe. 'You could go like this, I vould still think you look better than other girls at the dance.'

Hermione looked at him so bewilderingly that Viktor was sure he had said something wrong. He frantically backtracked, trying to figure out his offense, when she smiled at him and rested her hand lightly on his knee.

'Thank you, Viktor,' she said quietly, and his heart hammered. 'I just... I don't know a lot about dances, that's all.'

'Vell,' he said in relief, 'that is two of us, I think. I try to avoid such things. They are... loud and crazy.'

Hermione looked overwhelmingly relieved that she wasn't the only person unfamiliar with the ritualistic and awkward motions of dances.

'Well,' she said, all business again, 'we've got the robe issue sorted out, and I'll worry about my hair and shoes. Is there anything else?'

'Is there any vay to get out of this?' asked Viktor plaintively. 'I am very glad to be going vith you, but I am thinking that I do not like dances very much. Everyone smiles, and then hides knives behind their backs. I haff heard girls talk at them before.'

'I hate to be the one who shines the light on this, Viktor,' Hermione murmured, valiantly trying to smother her smirk, 'but most girls act like that the majority of the time, dances or no.'

Viktor looked horrified. 'But you are not like this, Hermy-own.' He immediately kicked himself for mangling her name again.

Hermione smiled. 'I'm not most girls,' she said, laughing.

'Thank votever God vatches over me for that,' muttered Viktor darkly. 'I haff nightmares that ve go to ball, and then you make mooing noises like other girls.'

Hermione stuffed her fist in her mouth, trying not to laugh too loudly. 'No, I promise I will not moo, Viktor. Nor will I moon, pretend I know anything about Quidditch, or ask you for your hand in marriage, or get an autograph.'

Viktor grinned, relieved. 'And I vill not... vell, I do not think I could ever do anything insulting towards you, so nevermind.' Hermione beamed at him, and Viktor felt like he had broken the record for fastest Snitch caught.

'Oh, time for dinner,' said Hermione suddenly. 'I have to go.' She squeezed Viktor's knee. 'I'll meet you here tomorrow, okay?'

'Okay,' said Viktor happily. 'Haff good time eating, I vill see you later.'

'I'm sure I'll enjoy my thrice-daily performance of Ron imitating a vacuum cleaner,' she said darkly, getting up and gathering her things. She ran off, and Viktor just shook his head.

What the hell was a vacuum cleaner?

---

Viktor brushed his hands nervously over his coat, checking his reflection for the umpteenth time. His mirror cursed at him, shouting something about the dangers of vanity. Viktor made a very rude gesture towards the mirror, who said something equally rude in reply before Viktor was elbowed out of the way by a classmate.

'You look very nice, Viktor,' came a coy voice. Viktor rolled his eyes into the back of his head.

'You are looking nice too, Stanka,' he said quickly, before making his way out of the room. Like an overgrown turkey buzzard.

He and Hermione had only gotten a few chances to talk between the time he had asked her and tonight, hurriedly discussing their plans; where they would meet, and so forth. It was all very cloak-and-dagger; Hermione commented that she felt like an operative of MI6. That had merely confused Viktor, but the general feeling of harassment between them was leaving both of them on edge.

Viktor looked around in a nonchalant manner. When he saw that Karkaroff was busy dressing down a student for wrinkled robes, and that everyone else was fighting for the mirror, he slipped out silently, shambling like mad to escape the ship. He made it undetected to the castle, awkwardly running up the stairs. He finally sat in a darkened corner near the entrance to the Great Hall.

Students began to emerge, first in a steady trickle, then in short bursts, and finally en masse, a sea of eager hormones surging like salmon to their spawning ground. All the while, Viktor sat in his corner. When Hermione did not emerge, he began to grow nervous. Had she forgotten? Changed her mind? Found a better date? Went with-

'Viktor?'

Viktor climbed halfway up the wall. He turned around to see Hermione swathed in shadow, looking very pale and nervous.

'I vish you vould stop stop sneaking up on me,' he grouched good-naturedly. Hermione broke into titters, a nervous grin blooming on her face.

'Sorry,' she whispered. 'I thought you would have heard me.'

'Over the stampede?' he asked, jerking a thumb over to the teeming mass of students. 'I vouldn't have heard a herd of dragons diving into castle valls over that.'

'I suppose so,' she said. She looked at her feet, her shoulders twitching.

'Are you okay?' he asked worriedly. 'You look like you haff swallowed an ashwinder egg.'

'Just kind of scared,' she said quietly. 'I've never really gotten dressed up for Hogwarts before.'

'Vell,' said Viktor slowly, cautiously. 'Come, let me see you. Your head is pretty as ever, I am sure the rest of you is fine, too.'

Hermione swallowed visibly, took a deep breath, and walked into the light.

Viktor blinked, taking her in from head to toe.

'What?' she asked nervously. 'Is it that bad? Is the colour wrong? Oh, it's my hair, isn't it? I should go and change it to-'

'I cannot believe you vere vorried, Hermy-own,' he breathed. 'You look very beautiful. Very much beautiful.'

Hermione blushed, her hands flickering over her blue robes. 'You think so?'

'I know so,' he said. 'I am pretty sure I haff seen every girl valk in already, and you are still much prettier than all of them. Much so.'

This seemed to stiffen Hermione's spine. 'You look handsome, Viktor,' she said softly. She walked over to him, brushing her hands over his chest. He hoped that she couldn't feel his heart beating like a pair of bludger bats.

'You really do,' she continued. 'And I'm glad I'm going to the ball with you.'

Viktor broke into an unabashed, boyish grin, then offered his arm. 'Let's go around the back vay,' he said. 'Ve can make ultimate grand entrance, and I can show off my beautiful partner.' Hermione flushed in a rather pleased fashion, and nodded her head.

'Let's do it, then,' she said, with more bravery than she felt.

'Into the Great Hall,' said Viktor, leading her forward.

'Into the lion's den,' she muttered. She held her head high, straightened her back, and together, they swept into the Great Hall.

'Are your classmates staring at us?'

'I think that everyvone is staring at us.'

'This is really weird.'

'This is very boring.'

'Any chance of escape?'

'If you think you can fight off your Head of House, yes.'

Hermione sighed and clutched Viktor's arm a little harder. He tried to walk smoothly, concentrating on not falling over as they walked towards the Great Hall, heads held high and hearts thumping. Viktor scowled at the looming crowd, muttering very fiercely as he tried to stare down any boy who appeared to get a little too interested in Hermione. For her part, she was simply trying to stamp down the urge to turn and run like hell. She toyed with a little piece of paper.

‘Vot is that for, Hermy-own?’

Hermione looked startled. ‘What? Oh, the paper? It’s in case I have an idea. I keep a pen with me too, in case I need to write anything down.’

The silence reigned.

'Haff I told you that you are looking very nice tonight, Hermy-own?'

'Hermione,' she said absent-mindedly, patting his hand. 'And yes, thank you, but feel free to say it more than once.'

They moved quickly and in silence. Hermione finally seemed to gain her bearings and walked with pride, twining her arm firmly with Viktor's. Her smile was still nervous, but Viktor could feel Hermione steel herself.

'Don't vorry about vot they say,' he whispered from the side of his mouth, his gentle tone contradicting his surly look. 'Oh look,' he continued, 'there is your friend, Harry Potter.' He motioned with his elbow.

Hermione turned her head and raised her hand as they came to a stop. 'Hi, Harry! Hi, Parvati!' She didn't appear to notice that Harry's jaw was hanging and his date Parvati was staring. Viktor smirked as the annoying blonde boy walked by and was rendered speechless. His date, the girl with the snout, gaped.

'Vot a hideous dress,' Viktor commented, glancing over at Pansy's frilly pink dress.

'She looks like she dumped glue all over herself and went wild in a room full of pink tissue paper,' said Hermione, wrinkling her nose.

'Haff I also mentioned that I am very happy that you did not vear anything pink or frilly?' Hermione stared straight ahead as they started forward, but Viktor noted the small smile on her face.

'Oh, isn't that your friend too?' asked Viktor as a tall red-haired boy walked by.

'Yes,' said Hermione, raising an eyebrow as Ron marched by, apparently not noticing Hermione. Viktor didn't know how it was possible- how could you not notice how pretty Hermione looked?

Hermione's Head of House called for the Champions to get in line. Viktor clutched at Hermione's hand, making sure she was really there with him. She smiled reassuringly at him, and they moved to the head of the line.

Do not do anything stupid, Viktor.

Right. Easier said than done.

Do not do anything to embarrass Hermione. Like pronounce her name wrong.

Viktor sighed.

---

'Hogvarts food is very good,' said Viktor as he began to eat. Hermione nodded vaguely, staring at her plate. 'Are you okay?'

'Just kind of nervous,' whispered Hermione. 'Everyone's looking at me.'

'As vell they should,' said Viktor, wiping his mouth. 'You are looking beautiful.'

Hermione blushed.

'So,' said Viktor as the silence got uncomfortable. 'Haff you read the notes I wrote for you?'

'Oh, yes!' said Hermione excitedly, and Viktor was slightly taken aback at how fast she began to chatter.

'Hermy-own,' he said, breaking into her train of thought involving dragon's blood and boot-cleaners, 'I am very sorry, but I am not being able to keep up vith you vhen you talk this fast.'

'Oh, sorry Viktor,' she said, flushing. 'It's just that your translation was perfect! Thank you so much, by the way, I really appreciate it, and...'

Viktor smiled slightly and shook his head, leaning his head on his hand and listening to her talk animatedly. After a while, the conversation turned. Viktor purposefully kept his back to Karkaroff, who was attempting the world's first Silenco via pure telepathy.

'What's Durmstrang like, Viktor?' asked Hermione, turning to face him fully. 'I've never even seen real pictures, I'm sure it's loads more interesting than Hogwarts.'

'I don't know about that,' said Viktor thoughtfully. 'Hogvarts, I think, is very nice. It's a big castle. Vell, ve haff a castle also, not as big as this, I am thinking. Ve just haff four floors, and the fire are lit only for magical purposes. But ve haff grounds larger than these-- though in vinter, ve haff very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying everyday, over the lakes and mountains--'

'Now, now, Viktor!'

Viktor rolled his eyes into the back of his head. Hermione ducked her head and giggled as Viktor's face got darker, looking positively mutinous as Karkaroff tried to steer their conversation off-course.

'I vould rather she be there than you, old man,' muttered Viktor. Hermione choked on a sip of juice. They both stared at their laps, willing themselves NOT to burst into laughter as Dumbledore began to talk merrily of magically-appearing chamber pots.

'Hermy-own-'

'Viktor,' she said patiently, putting her hand on his. 'It's Hermione.'

'Hermy-own.'

'Her-my-oh-nee,' she said slowly. Viktor took a deep breath.

'Herm-own-ninny...'

Hermione grinned, looking over Viktor's head at her friend, Harry.

---

'Oh, no,' murmured Hermione. 'It's not too late to make a break for it, is it?'

'I am thinking the Beauxbatons voman vould run us over if ve tried,' said Viktor, standing up and offering Hermione his hand. 'Just von dance or two, and then ve can get out of here.' He stopped and looked at Hermione questioningly when she gripped his hand tightly.

'I- I'm scared, Viktor,' she said under her breath. 'I really don't know how to dance, and I know I'm going to make a fool out of myself in front of all these people, and then I'll have to leave school, and you'll have to smuggle me into Durmstrang or something, and I'll fail, and never have a real job, and-'

'Herm-own-ninny,' said Viktor, breaking into her tirade. 'I am not looking good vhen I dance, either, more like a flobbervorm on firevhiskey and less like human, but ve haff to. And, vhile I vould very much like to be bringing you back to Durmstrang vith me, I am thinking you underestimate yourself. You haff been very graceful all night. Haff some faith in yourself, Herm-own-ninny.'

Hermione stared at him for a moment blankly. Slowly, but surely, her grip on his hand relaxed until they were barely touching. She allowed herself to be half-steered, half-dragged towards the center of the room. He rushed her past Harry and positioned her, showing her where to put her hands.

'Viktor,' she said softly as the group began to ready themselves.

'Herm-own-ninny,' he answered. He lifted a hand and brushed a curl off her face. 'Remember, there is first time for everything. This is first time for both of us, to be dancing together. First time. Like- like-'

'Magic,' she finished breathily, looking up at him from beneath a fringe of lashes. 'Or flying.'

'Yes,' he said quietly. 'And, I am thinking ve haff done very well in both.'

The music began. Hermione took a deep breath.

---

Years afterwards. Viktor still couldn't quite remember what had happened during that first dance. All he remembered was the feeling of floating.

---

‘Did I step on your foots, Herm-own-ninny?’

‘Feet,’ she automatically corrected, ‘and no. I’m just tired.’

‘I vos going too fast?’ he asked anxiously. Hermione laughed and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.

‘Not at all, Viktor, that was a lot of fun. I’m just thirsty.’ She fanned her face and smiled up at him. ‘D’you mind if I go sit with my friends for a minute?’

‘Not a problem,’ said Viktor, smiling broadly. ‘I vill go fetch us drinks, okay?’

‘Sounds good,’ she said, hurrying off to join her friends. Viktor shuffled his way towards the punch bowl, elbowing a particularly annoying Beauxbatons boy in the nose as he poured his and Hermione’s drinks.

When he went back to find her, she was gone, and her red-haired friend was not very helpful at all.

---

Viktor stomped all over the castle, looking for Hermione. Not wanting to call out to her, he settled for making his way through the lower floor, managing to get lost twice and lock himself into a room with a highly annoying poltergeist at least three times.

‘Vare is she?’ he muttered to himself. A sharp hiccup caught his attention, and he turned around to see his date sitting with a chubby boy with blonde hair in her House and year.

‘Why is he being such a jerk, Neville?’ sniffled Hermione, snuffling into a large white kerchief.

‘I dunno, Hermione, you know him better than I do.’ Viktor paled. What had he done to offend Hermione? He slid down against the wall, keeping himself in the shadows as he eaves-dropped.

‘You’re a boy,’ hiccoughed Hermione, looking at the boy, Neville. ‘What did I do wrong?’

Wrong?

‘Maybe Ron’s just having a mood,’ said Neville uncertainly. Viktor exhaled sharply; Hermione wasn’t talking about him.

‘He’s being so mean to because I went to the dance with Viktor and not him,’ hissed Hermione. ‘Serves him right for not asking me until so late.’

Viktor’s heart did a sort of wormy crawl down his spine. Is that why she had gone with him?

‘Is that why you went with Viktor? Just because he asked? Or to make Ron mad?’

‘Yes,’ said Hermione bitterly, and Viktor felt his heart slowly break apart. ‘Well, no. Yes and no?’ Viktor looked at his feet, forcing himself to look at his feet.

‘I knew it would make Ron mad,’ she said, staring at the ceiling. ‘But that’s not why I went with Viktor. I like Viktor. He’s really nice to me. He translated these really difficult books for me, Neville! He talks to me like I’m his equal. I love talking to him. He makes me feel special. And Ron has no reason to be mean to him because Viktor worked up the guts to ask me! It’s not my fault Ron didn’t notice I’m not a girl! And it’s not my fault I like Viktor! I mean, well, maybe it is, but whatever. I went with Viktor, and he’s been nice, and I’m glad I went with him. I don’t have to make excuses for being attracted to someone.’

Hermione got to her feet, kerchief forgotten. ‘I have to go find Viktor,’ she said resolutely. ‘I feel like dancing again. Ron can go sulk by himself.’

Hermione strode towards the doors to the Great Hall. Viktor waited a few moments before scuttling in after her. Without a word, he offered his arm, and they swept onto the dance floor.

---

‘I had very good time, Herm-own-ninny,’ said Viktor, escorting her out of the Great Hall.

‘I did too, Viktor,’ she said, sighing. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and Viktor tried to quell the iron butterflies in his stomach. ‘You’re a really good dancer, you know that?’

‘Only because I haff such a good partner,’ said Viktor, looking down at Hermione and smiling. She grinned back at him, and they walked the corridors for a while, just enjoying themselves as they trailed across the school.

‘I have to leave soon,’ she said after a while, looking sadly at Viktor’s watch.

‘I should be going too,’ Viktor said reluctantly. ‘Karkaroff, he vill vant my head for talking about Durmstrang.’

‘He’s a little high-strung, isn’t he?’ she asked rhetorically. They chuckled, and then she sighed again. ‘I wish the night was a bit longer. This was so much fun.’

Viktor looked at his free hand, watching it flex as he tried to work up the nerve to tell her what he had been thinking all night.

‘Vell,’ he said slowly, ‘maybe there can be other times?’

‘Hmmm?’ she said, looking up at him. ‘Other times?’

‘I am meaning,’ he said carefully, ‘that maybe ve can go out other times? If you like, I mean. To- vot did you call it?- Hogsmeade? Or maybe over summer. My home is very nice, I think maybe you will like it.’ Viktor stared at his shoes. ‘I vould very much like to be going out vith you again.’

Hermione was very quiet for a long time, and soon only the steady clip-clop of their shoes and the whisk of Hermione’s robes filled the gap between them. Understanding, Viktor began to steer her back towards the Gryffindor Tower, leading her up the stairs to the Common Room.

They reached the top, and stood there for a while, neither moving first.

‘Well,’ said Hermione.

‘Vell,’ said Viktor.

‘Oh, aren’t you two so cute?’ chirruped a syrupy voice, and Viktor turned to scowl at a portrait of a very fat woman who was incredibly drunk.

‘Way to ruin the mood,’ muttered Hermione. She looked up at Viktor, then down at his feet, and to his surprise, slid her hands into his.

‘Thank you, Viktor,’ she said softly. ‘Everything was perfect tonight.’ She smiled beatifically, and Viktor’s lungs suddenly began to pump faster. Hermione’s face was coming much closer, and suddenly, their noses bumped, and their lips touched.

---

Oddly enough, Viktor could never remember much about their first kiss, either. Although apparently, he did it right, because she came back for a second, third, and fourth kiss.

---

Hermione brushed one last kiss on his cheek. ‘You’d better go,’ she said, ‘before Karkaroff completely loses it.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Viktor. He took her hand and held it to his lips. Hermione beamed. Just then, the portrait door opened, and a very tall, very angry, and very freckled boy stood before them. He opened his mouth, presumably to yell at them both. Hermione grabbed Viktor’s hand and began ushering him towards the staircase, patting her dress.

‘Go!’ she hissed. She fiddled behind her dress for a moment, then clasped his hand with both of hers. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Viktor tottered down the stairs, torn between happiness and irritation. Who did the red-haired boy think he was? Viktor ran his hand through his hair, only to be surprised by something dry and wrinkled in his hand. He brought it to his face.

Hermione had been writing a note behind her back.

Viktor- Hogsmeade weekend soon. Meet me in the teahouse? Hermione.

And suddenly, Viktor knew everything was going to be okay.

Fin.

Some text taken from GOF, US Edition.