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.'