     The first part of the tournament passed very quickly. Viktor had been exhilarated when he had been chosen as the Durmstrang champion, and even the strange circumstance of Harry Potter as the fourth Triwizard Champion could not dampen his spirits.  Three weeks later, Viktor had come away from the First Task—and his harrowing battle with the dragon—nearly unscathed, and head and shoulders in front of the rest.
     He hadn't dared hope that he would be able to remain unnoticed by the Hogwarts students during his stay at their school, especially after being selected as champion, but he didn't think it would be this bad.  He glanced behind him just as he turned a corner, and caught a glimpse of five or six girls following him in what they must have thought was an inconspicuous manner.  As he sped up, trying to escape them, he heard a loud giggle.
     This wasn't the first time he had caught groups of girls following him, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last.  Viktor rolled his eyes and decided that he would just have to ignore them.  Maybe some people, like perhaps the other Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory, would have liked the attention, but he would really rather have been left alone by everyone.  Or at least, almost everyone.
     The Gryffindor girl who had captured his attention several days before seemed to be the only one in the castle who didn't ever notice him. She was so different from any other girl he had ever met. She wasn't like those foolish girls who stalked him wherever he went, who were so air-headed that they hardly seemed to notice anything besides him.  But neither was she cunning like Simone, who had made him want her by just the way she looked at him. She just ignored him, and something about her indifference mesmerized him.
     After several more inquiries, Viktor had found out that she was her fourth year, which meant that she was either fourteen or fifteen.  She was also supposedly the best in her class at every subject, and spent much of the time in the library.
     And so, Viktor had taken to wandering around the library, or sitting in the corner with a stack of books, just to watch her.
     *          *          *
Hermione took a deep breath of the crisp November air as she passed a row of windows that someone had left open.  To her, there was nothing more refreshing in the world than enjoying a cool Saturday morning in late fall when the last leaves were falling off of the trees, and especially when she could enjoy it on the way to the library.
     Of course, she was awfully stressed at the moment, and that marred the pleasant experience somewhat.  She and Harry were lucky enough that they had been able to find a way to combine his flying prowess with her spell-working know-how to allow him to scrape past that dragon, but she'd barely been given a second to breathe before he'd opened that blasted shrieking egg.  She still had no idea what that was all about.  Being outsmarted by an egg—now that was frustrating.  And she didn't even want to keep trying to figure out how Harry's name had come out of the Goblet of Fire in the first place.
     Hermione let out a sigh as she walked through the library doors.  At the moment, she had way too many more immediate concerns to occupy her to keep worrying about Harry's tournament.  She had finished all of her regular homework early, of course, but she still had those three extra-credit essays that she had decided to take on just in case she missed a point or two on one of the required assignments.  Ron had told her she was "mental," as usual, but she preferred to think of herself as well-prepared.  She had responded by telling him that he'd regret not doing the essays when he missed points or even an entire assignment, as he was probably going to do sooner or later.  Ron had just shrugged.
     Well, Ron could be as careless as he liked with his studies, but it wouldn't keep her from trying to get the best grades that she possibly could.  She dumped her books onto her favorite table in the corner.  It wasn't really just her favorite table anymore; it seemed to be her table by unspoken agreement across the entire student body.  She did most likely use the library twice as much as any of the other students, so why shouldn't she get her own table?  She smiled as she ran her hand over the familiar wood, and then sat down, pulling sheets of parchment, a quill, and ink out of her bag.  Oh, how she loved these smells.  She closed her eyes for a moment just to bask in the heavenly aromas before getting to work on her research and essay-writing.
     Sometime later—she never failed to lose track of the hours while she was in her library—Hermione noticed someone standing beside a bookshelf near her table.  Of course they had a right to be there, but whoever it was had been standing in that one spot for a very, very long time, and things like that easily irritated her while she was studying.  She glanced up from her work and met eyes with none other than Viktor Krum.  Yes, he had been watching her.  She gave him a terse smile out of politeness at the same moment that he looked away from her, but when she turned back to her parchment, she found had completely lost her train of thought.  The only thing that registered in her mind as she stared at the blank part of her parchment was the memory of that evening a few days before the champion selection.  She remembered that strange, fluttering feeling she had experienced when he had looked at her then, and how she hadn't been able to hold back a small smile.  What had come over her?
     With her head still lowered, she watched as Krum retreated to the opposite side of the alcove, which wasn't very far away, carrying a small stack of books.  It was probably a coincidence, but he had oriented himself so that he faced her but she couldn't keep an eye on him without noticeably turning her head.  She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, trying not to grind her teeth in aggravation, and directed all of her focus back toward her History of Magic essay.  She was having a terrible time concentrating, however.  Every time she would finally start getting something meaningful accomplished, she would get side-tracked by that memory again.  She didn't think she'd ever seen that look in a boy's eyes before, at least not directed at her.  He looked…bemused?  Was that the right word?  But at the same time he had been smiling, even if just barely.
     Ron's right, you are mental, she thought to herself.  He's Viktor Krum, for the love of Merlin.  He's not paying attention to you, so stop coming up with these crazy fantasies.
     Hermione's eyes widened, and then she smacked her forehead when she realized that she had actually been writing her thoughts down right on her essay.  She must have been more stressed than she realized.
     "You idiot," she muttered, blushing, as she took out her wand and used it to erase his name from the paper.  When she was finished, she looked down at the still half-empty sheet, and shook her head.
     She looked up at the clock, and she frowned.  Had she really been here for over five hours?  This stupid essay was definitely taking way too long.  Sighing and rubbing a hand over her eyes, she stood to pack up her books and parchment, and then shot one more look over at Krum before swinging her heavy bag over her shoulder.  He wasn't looking at her, but she had the strange feeling that he had been only a split-second earlier.  Shaking her head again to get rid of those ridiculous thoughts, she marched back towards the entrance.
     *          *          *
Viktor lowered his book and frowned as he watched the Gryffindor girl leave the library with a frustrated look on her face.  God, but she was beautiful.  He had dreamed about her the night before.  He couldn't recall anything specific, but he did remember seeing her face, and he thought they might have been talking.  He had planned on approaching her today, as he had nearly every day for the past two weeks, and yet here was another opportunity ruined by his cowardice.  He was too shy to confront her while she was in the company of Harry Potter or her red-haired friend, and didn't want risk being overheard while his British fan club was hiding between the bookshelves.  Miraculously, they hadn't found him in the library today, but he still hadn't been able to muster up the courage to talk to her.
He left the library less than two minutes later, as irritated as she had looked.
* * *
A Midwinter Night's Dream by winters_tale
Chapter Endnotes:
"I see you standing here,
But you're so far away.
Starving for your attention,
You don't even know my name.
You're going through so much,
Don't you know that I could be the one
To hold you?
Skillet, "Yours To Hold"