"Remember that you and the other champions vill be leading the opening valtz in front of the other schools, Viktor.  Take care not to embarrass me."
     Viktor contemplated Karkaroff's words throughout Christmas day as he was preparing for the ball, and along his walk up to the castle.  He wasn't very nervous about embarrassing his school or his headmaster—he had spoken with Hermione several times since asking her to the ball and was absolutely convinced that she was the most beautiful and intelligent girl he had ever met.  No, what had him on edge tonight was his fear that he would do something stupid and embarrass her in front of the schools.  He had been furiously going through the opening waltz over and over in his private quarters on the ship, and so he was sure he had it down by now, but there were so many other idiotic things he was prone to doing…like pronouncing her beautiful name more horribly than if he had been trying to butcher it.  He had practiced saying it while he was still in his room on the ship while he made last-minute adjustments to his crimson, militaristic uniform and buckled on the fur-lined cape, but he never could seem to get it quite right.
     Viktor finally made it to the entrance of the castle with his fellow Durmstrang's, many of whom immediately left the group to join their dates.  He had wanted to beat Hermione to the entrance hall, which he had done, but rather than giving him more time to calm his nerves as he had hoped it would, it only increased his anticipation.  All of the girls around him were wearing beautiful dresses and had elegantly-styled hair, and the mere thought of seeing Hermione dressed similarly was enough to make his heart start pounding.
     He kept a surly expression on his face so that he didn't seem as nervous as he really was, and in a minute or so, the Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory, approached him with a pretty Asian girl holding onto his arm.  He and Diggory shook hands, and then Diggory introduced him to the girl, Cho Chang. Viktor nodded in a slight bow to her, and then Diggory said:
     "So, Krum, did you," he did a little sarcastic cough, "manage to find anyone among those girls who've been following you around to come with you?"
     Viktor smiled slightly, and was about to explain, but then he glanced up at the wide stairway.
     And he did a double take.
     He knew her the moment their eyes met.  She was a stranger, but familiar.  Impossible, but real.  She was a dream of an angel gliding down the staircase, dressed all in delicate light blue and lavender that clung to her curves and tiny waist, with her light brown hair pulled back in an elegant knot and the loose strands flowing over her shoulder in soft curls.  Her beautiful, honey-colored eyes sought him out in the crowd, and her glossy lips curved in a delicate smile that was just for him.
     Viktor muttered his apology to Diggory, and quickly approached her as she reached the bottom stair.  Despite the boisterous crowd around them, she might have been the only other human being in the room but him for all he knew.  He couldn't take his eyes from her angelic face.  He wanted to say something to her, but, being too awestruck to speak, merely snapped his heels together and bowed.   She glanced down for a moment, one corner of her mouth pulling up in a timidly sweet smile that warmed every place in his heart.  He offered her his arm, and she placed her small hand around it, letting out a nervous but excited little giggle that seemed to express her feelings more perfectly than anyone ever could have with words.
     Viktor had never had a prouder moment in his life than when he, out of all the young men in the room, was the one to have the privilege of leading Hermione into the ballroom before the cheering crowd.  But it was another kind of pride from the way he felt when winning a Quidditch match.  He couldn't quite place his finger on the difference, but he was certain of one thing: he was more elated at that moment than he had ever been before.
     When they reached the dance floor, Viktor, still feeling a little bewildered by how beautiful Hermione looked, turned to her with a bashful smile, and took her delicate hand, placing his other around on her back. She too looked a little shy as she put hers on his shoulder.  The music started a moment later, and Viktor, thanking his lucky stars that he had decided to practice so much, eagerly took the lead.  She made his heart pound with the way she never took her smiling eyes away from his, even when he took her by the waist and lifted her off the ground, spinning around while holding her up in the air.  She blushed a little when her feet reached the floor again.  Viktor continued as they twirled effortlessly around the room, completely lost in her eyes as though all the world was gone. Â
     Viktor had barely noticed, but by this time, the dance floor was filled with couples dancing in unison.  Then, all of the sudden, a much more energetic and raucous strain of music blasted out the dreamy waltz, and with a single roar, the graceful dancers had become a jumping, pulsing crowd, like the audience at a rock concert or partiers at a night club, and Viktor eagerly joined in.
     For a few moments, as he moved to the music, punching the air with his fist, Viktor didn't notice that Hermione was not dancing or jumping at all. When he turned to her again, he saw that she was just glancing around her, looking nervous.
     "Come on, Herm-own-ninny!" he said, not even making an attempt to pronounce her name correctly.  He grabbed her hand and spun her around quickly, first one way, and then back.  She laughed, briefly covering her face with her hands in an embarrassed sort of way, and then seemed to loosen up a bit.  Soon she and Viktor were dancing and laughing and having the time of their lives.
     *          *          *
Hermione couldn't possibly imagine a more perfect evening.
     She had never met anyone quite like Viktor, who made her feel so comfortable and confident while being so relaxed, or who could make her feel like she was beautiful just by the look in his dark eyes and by the way he held her hand while they danced.  Of course, he was the only guy she'd ever met who actually treated her like a young lady instead of a walking encyclopedia.  It was an incredible feeling, like every time he took her hand to twirl her around he swept her off her feet.
     But, even though they were having so much fun, both of them were soon tired out, and so at the end of the song, Viktor led Hermione by the hand through the other dancers, out to the tables that had been set up for the feast.
     "I vill go get drinks, shall I?" he asked, and then he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
     She stood there for a moment, watching him walk away, and then, letting out another, giddy and very un-Hermione-ish giggle, spun around in a circle. After taking a deep breath, she looked around her, and to her surprise, saw Harry, Ron, and  Padma  Patil sitting a table nearby, watching her. She grinned, and then went and sat next to Harry.
     "Hot, isn't it?" she asked, as he smiled back at her in an unnervingly knowing way.  "Viktor's gone to get drinks. Would you care to join us?"
     Harry looked about ready to accept, but Ron said,
     "No we would not care to join you and Viktor."
     Hermione raised an eyebrow as Ron crossed his arms and turned away, looking sulky. She glanced at Harry, who shrugged, looking a little confused himself.
     "What's got your wand in a knot?"
     "He's a Durmstrang," said Ron with disgust, as though that fact instantly made his point obvious.  "You're...You're fraternizing with the enemy, you are."
     "The enemy?" said Hermione hotly. "Who was it wanting his autograph? And...besides, the whole point of the Tournament is...international, magical cooperation. To make friends."
     "Ron, I haven't got a problem with Krum-" started Harry, who had noticed that more than a few people had started watching them, but Ron cut him off.
     "I think Vicky's got a bit more than friendship on his mind," he spat.
     "Don't call him Vicky!" Hermione practically shouted, but when she had just gotten up to storm across the dance floor, he called out,
     "They get scary when they get older!"
     Hermione turned around, staring at him agape like a fish out of water, her face burning with anger and embarrassment.  She wanted to scream at Ron.  How dare he say something like that?  But there were too many people everywhere, staring at the pair of them, too many people listening and adding to her humiliation, and the words flitted around in her mind, just out of reach.  Clamping her mouth shut against a sob, she spun on her heel and practically fled across the room and out the doors.
     *          *          *
Viktor had made his way to the table at the back of the hall, and grabbed two goblets of foaming butterbeer, but when he reached the spot where he had left her, Viktor frowned, looking around for her.
     "Vare is Herm-own-ninny?" he asked, half to himself.
     "No idea." Hermione's red-haired friend looked up at him. "Lost her, have you?"
     His expression soured with annoyance. "Vell, if you see her, tell her I haff drinks." Â
     Viktor moved through the crowd of dancers, trying to spot Hermione amongst them.  He frowned and continued out of the Great Hall into one of the adjacent courtyards, where he finally found her sitting on a the stone bench set back away from the one of the paths winding through the landscape. She had been facing away from him, and she jumped slightly when she felt him sit next to her, but she only glanced at him for a moment before turning quickly away again.  Viktor was shocked to see that her eyes were full of tears.
     "Herm-own-ninny…vot is the matter?" he asked with concern, holding out one goblet.  She looked down at it but didn't take it, and the destitute expression on her quivering lips was enough to make his heart melt.  "You…you vont me to leafe?"
     She sniffled, shaking her head, and then carefully wiped a tear from her face without smearing her makeup.  Then she sighed and took the glass of foaming butterbeer, cradling it in her hands.  "I'm sorry, Viktor.  It's stupid…."
     "No, no," he said quickly.  "It's all right."  He watched another tear slide despondently down her cheek, and then brushed it away with a gentle hand.  "May I ask vot happened?  It isn't something I haff done?"
     "No of course not," she said, taking a sip from her drink and sniffing again.  "It's just…well, Ron's being a stupid git, that's all."
      "I am sorry," he said simply. Â
     "Oh it's nothing more than I should have expected.  He can be so…."  She trailed off with a sigh.  Then suddenly she kicked off her silver heels.  "These—bloody—shoes!" she exclaimed.  "Oh, I don't know how anyone can tolerate walking around on their toes for so long."
     Viktor thought she must really be upset since this was the first time he'd ever heard her curse. "Vell, ve haff a saying in Bulgaria, vsyako losho neshto idva, za da bŭde za dobro. Each bad things comes out to be for good." He gave her a sympathetic smile, and she held his gaze for a moment and then laughed a little—at herself, Viktor thought.
     They sat there in silence for several minutes, looking around at the twisting hedges where the little lights were real fairies floating through the air.  Hermione shivered.  The air was crisp and cold, as though it were about to snow, and her dress was light, and left her arms bare.  Feeling more than a little self-conscious, Viktor put his arm around her shoulders, running his hand up and down her arm. She responded to the gesture by drawing closer to him. She took another sip of her drink, set the goblet on the bench next to her, and then wrapped her arms around herself.
     "Your hands are cold," Viktor said quietly, and he took her hands in his, pressing them gently, and then he looked back up at her.  She gave him another one of those adorable little half-smiles, looking down at their entwined hands.
     "Herm-own-ninny?"
     She looked away and smiled, shaking her head slightly.
     "I told you," she said. "It's 'Her-my-oh-nee.'"
     "Vell, I can't say it like that, so you vill haff to be forgiffing me."
     She sighed, laughing a little, but didn't say anything.
     "Herm-own-ninny?" he started again.
     "Yes, Viktor?" she asked, still refraining from laughter.
     "I...I don't think...I'm not sure that I haff told you, but I think that...you look—you are—very beautiful."
     Hermione smiled, blushing and still looking down at his hands.  She loved the way he said it.  It was like she was always beautiful, whether or not she was wearing a fancy dress.
     "Thank you," she said, almost in a whisper.
     After they had finished their drinks, she felt the arm Viktor had around her waist help her up with him as he stood. He steered her up a few steps before two figures emerged from the pillar-flanked entrance to the hedges directly in front of them. Hermione was annoyed to see that it was Malfoy, with Pansy Parkinson clinging to his arm. When she saw Hermione, the grin on her face turned into a frown that spoke hate more clearly than if she had said it.
     "Krum," said Malfoy, "I didn't ex..." He froze when he saw Hermione, his jaw dropping and his eyes widening.  He goggled at her for a few seconds, while Hermione felt the heat rise in her face, but tried to stay as outwardly unconcerned as possible. "Granger! What...?"
     "Vot is..."
     But Malfoy cut across him.
     "What do you think you're doing, Krum? You asked that to the ball?" he asked, looking as disgusted as his tone was disbelieving.
     "Vot is the matter vith..."
     "You must not know what she is."
     Hermione's heart sank. Would Viktor care that her parents were Muggles? Was Durmstrang a place where Muggle-borns were treated with contempt?
     "Vot do you mean, Malfoy?" Viktor said, his eyes narrowing.
     Malfoy let out a short, mirthless laugh.
     "You didn't even ask her?" His gaze fell on Hermione, and he sneered. "She's a dirty Mudblood."
     In an instant, Viktor had grabbed the collar of Malfoy's robes and slammed him back against the pillar. Pansy shrieked, and Hermione cried "Viktor! No!"
     "How dare you!" he snarled, rage pulsing through him.
     "Let me go, you blood traitor!" Malfoy said, looking outraged, and trying to pull off the Bulgarian seeker's hands.
     Viktor whipped out his wand, and held it an inch from Malfoy's throat.
     "If you ever say that to her again, you vill haff me to answer to," he said.  But Hermione ran forwards and grabbed his wand arm.
     "Viktor, don't! You mustn't..."
     He looked down at her, and when he saw her worried face, he reluctantly released the Slytherin.  Hermione tried to pull him away, and after giving Malfoy one last furious glare, he followed.
     "I thought you had proper wizard feeling at Durmstrang!" Malfoy shouted after him.
     "Only the vons vith no human feeling!" Viktor called back, but Hermione pulled him faster towards the entrance hall.
     It wasn't until they reached the deserted Entrance Hall, and the marble staircase leading up into the rest of the castle, that Hermione stopped.
     "Viktor?"
     He turned to her, a scowl still on his face.
     "Viktor, you shouldn't have done that..."
     "He should not haff said that," he said heatedly.
     Hermione sighed, looking down and putting a hand on her arm uncomfortably.
     "He says it all the time," she said quietly, her cheeks turning faintly pink.  Viktor took her hand in his, running his thumb over her small fingers.
     "Vell he von't now if he is knowing vot is good for him," he said, though in a much softer tone.
     She paused, and then said:  "Viktor, I...you can't... I really don't care what he says."
     "I think you do," he said quietly.
     "No, I don't! He's horrible and…and selfish—"
     "Vell I care, then."
     She looked up into his face. His eyes were soft, and his expression was tender. He smiled slightly, and then raised her hands and kissed first one, and then the other.
     "Vill you be alright?" he asked, touching her face, and looking intently into her eyes.
     She felt the color rising in her cheeks again, but held his gaze.
     "Yes, Viktor, don't be silly, of course..."
     "Vell then, perhaps...von more dance, if you like?"
     "Oh...yes, I would," she said, keeping her voice natural, though he could easily tell how pleased she was from the way her eyes sparkled. Smiling, Viktor tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and then he led her into the Great Hall.
     The hall was much emptier than before, with only a few couples on the dance floor. They walked to the center of the room and, smiling, Viktor held her hand and spun her once before taking her in his arms.  His smile broadened when he saw that her cheeks were pink again.  She slid her hands onto his shoulders, biting her lip as though trying to keep from smiling too much, but when he lowered his head closer to her level, raising an eyebrow at her, she let out another giggle.  Viktor laughed too, pulling her closer while still moving to the music. Something warm bubbled up inside him where her head touched his chest. Â
     "By the way," she murmured contentedly, "you look very dashing tonight."
     Viktor moved his hand to the place between her neck and shoulder, squeezing very slightly. Â
     "Thank you, Herm-own-ninny."
     Her bare back felt softer than velvet beneath his palm as he slid his hand back down to her waist, and the feel of her skin made him shiver slightly.  He didn't even try to suppress his grin as he gazed about him, wondering how on earth he had managed to be the luckiest guy in the room, and how on earth he got to dance with the most beautiful, smartest, and most wonderful girl at the ball.
     "Viktor," Hermione said after a few minutes, still resting against him.
     "Hmm?"
     "The music's stopped."
     He realized she was right, although he had still been dancing slowly.  He stopped, trying not to seem embarrassed, and Hermione took a step back, looking a little sheepish herself.
     "I think you've had a bit too much butterbeer," she said, shaking a finger at him but unable to keep the laughter out of her voice.
     "Oh no, you had very much more than I did," he retorted.  "Venever I saw you, you vere holding a new glass."
     Her mouth dropped open and she swatted his arm.  "That's not true!" she said with a laugh.  "I only had...maybe...four?"
     Viktor shook his head in mock disappointment.  "Oh Hermy-own...I mean Herm-own-ninny....  You haff got to vatch this problem off yours."  He took her hand and put it around his arm to lead her away from the floor.
     Hermione let the whole thing—both his butterbeer comment and his horrible mispronunciation of her name—slide, and instead of saying anything, just leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked.  He stood up a little straighter, not able to keep a spring out of his step.  Just as they were exiting the front doors, Viktor saw a red-headed girl in a pink dress give Hermione a suggestive smile, and he heard the tiniest giggle from Hermione as they passed her.
     Viktor led her to the wide marble stairway, and he thought she seemed rather reluctant when she let go of his arm.
     "Thank you so much for…for a perfect evening, Viktor," she said sincerely, fidgeting with her hands.
     "Not at all, it vos both an honor and a pleasure to be vith you tonight."  The words sounded a little formal to him, but they made her smile nonetheless.  "Perhaps, if you like, Herm-own-ninny, ve could spend more time together again this veek?"
     She gave him one of her endearingly shy, lop-sided smiles.  "Yes, I would like that."
     She smiled when he took her hand, but then he made a bold decision, and instead of kissing her hand again, he leaned forward to press his lips to her cheek.  "Vell then, I shall see you soon.  Leka nosht, bonbonche," he breathed beside her ear, and then took a step back and bowed deeply, turned on his heel, and headed to the entrance.
     *          *          *
Hermione watched Viktor dreamily as he walked out through the doors with his headmaster and the rest of the Durmstrang students.  She had no idea what a bonbonche was, but he had said it very tenderly, and that was all that mattered.  She lifted a hand to touch the still-burning place on her cheek where he'd kissed her, smiling dazedly at the now empty doorway.  After a few more seconds, she spun around much too quickly on one foot and nearly fell over, but even making such a complete fool of herself in front of the few people remaining in the Entrance Hall couldn't wipe that ridiculous grin from her face, and with a sigh, she turned and walked up the marble stairs.
* * *
A Midwinter Night's Dream by winters_tale
Chapter Endnotes:
"You're in my arms,
And all the world is calm,
The music playing on for only two.
So close together,
And when I'm with you,
So close to feeling alive...
So close was waiting, waiting here with you
And now forever I know,
All that I wanted was to hold you
So close..."
~Jon McLaughlin, "So Close"