This is a one-shot inspired by the photo seen in the cover image. It is obviously noncanon (Romione fans, don't kill me) and just something I felt the need to write. Hope you enjoy.

Write to me, Hermione.

It's been three years since I've seen Viktor Krum.

Three years since Hogwarts hosted the Triwizard Tournament, three years since he asked me to the Yule Ball, three years since we danced the night away together.

Growing up is rather strange. I used to think that Viktor and I had the potential to be something more, but time and distance were not in our favor. Letters could only convey so much.

And then last year happened. Seeing Ron with Lavender led to feelings I'd rarely experienced before.

Anger. Grief. Jealousy.

But if it's Ron that I want, why am I desperately searching the crowds for Viktor's dark eyes?

Fleur invited him to the wedding; I know she did. He's got to be here somewhere.

"Hermione, Harry and Ron are looking for you. Something about needing a spell for bowties."

I turn my head, coming face-to-face with a smiling Ginny.

"Boys," I say, shaking my head in a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

"Tell me about it," she answers, rolling her eyes playfully. "Waiting for someone?"

Blood rushes to my cheeks. "Viktor," I admit, a sheepish grin on my lips.

Ginny stifles a laugh. "Knew it. You might want to look to your left. I'll be inside."

Instinctively, my gaze darts toward the aforementioned direction. I'm faintly aware of Ginny's footsteps receding when the air is knocked out of my lungs.

Viktor is standing on the other side of the wedding tent, staring right back at me.

He's even more handsome than I remember, having grown a bit of a beard and looking dapper in a black suit.

I break away first, willing myself not to blush as he makes his way over to me.

"Hermione," he murmurs, a familiar lilt to his voice. "You look lovely."

"Not so bad yourself," I manage to muster, flashing a smile. "You got my name right."

Viktor chuckles, a deep sound that is positively contagious. "I've had three years to practice. You've been well, I hope?"

"Very, thank you. It's good to see you." The words are out of my mouth before I even register them. Flustered, I peek up at Viktor through my lashes.

"Likewise," he says, never taking his eyes off me. "Would you care to dance?"

"I'd love to," I respond, beaming as he offers his arm and escorts me to the dance floor.

We sway to the beat just as we did all those years ago, perfectly in step with one another. I'm amazed by how comfortable I feel with him.

The music slows just as I sneak a glance up at Viktor, only to find him already watching me. "What?" I ask reflexively. "Something on my face?"

His lips quirk up then, regarding me for a moment before he whispers something so soft that even I can't catch it.

"Sorry?"

"I said, you wrote to me," he repeats. His tone is one of awe, as if he didn't expect me to keep my promise to do so.

Viktor lifts me into the air, and in that instant, I feel as if I am on top of the world. After he sets me back onto my feet, I'm grinning from ear to ear.

"Of course I did," I whisper, drawing him close to me. "Of course I did."