"Vill you go to Yule Ball with me?"
Startled, Hermione looked up from her books to find Viktor Krum standing by her table. "I beg your pardon?"
The older boy straightened his shoulders and bowed stiffly. "I vould like to go to Yule Ball with you." His voice was low, out of respect for the library or whether he didn't want anyone to hear, Hermione didn't know. It was also surprisingly soft, with a strong accent and a pleasant rumble...
Hermione's brow furrowed. "Why?"
Krum seemed surprised, and Hermione waited only slightly impatiently as he floundered for words. She knew that speaking a foreign language was a struggle, but he could have prepared what he wanted to say in advance!
"You vork hard," he gestured vaguely at her books. "They say you are intelligent, and a gifted vitch. You do not look at me with...how do you say? Stars in your eyes." He grimaced slightly. "That is rare, after the World Cup." Krum didn't seem to think it a good thing, and Hermione was forcibly reminded of Harry. A grimace stole its way over her own face, and Krum nodded. "You understand. Most others do not. I vould like a date who looks at me like a person, not a celebrity," he stumbled slightly over the word, but recovered when Hermione nodded her understanding. "They say you are intelligent, and I see that you are beautiful, and I vish to ask you before another man does."
Hermione stared at him, startled for the second time. He thought she was beautiful? And that anyone else would want to ask her to the ball? A snort escaped her, but she waved her hand before he could misunderstand.
"I think you're the first person other than my parents to call me beautiful," she explained, blinking when he scowled.
"Then others have no eyes." Snapping to attention, he extended a hand to her. "I vould be honored to haff you as my date."
Looking from his face to his hand, Hermione reached out slowly. She had rather hoped that Ron might- but here stood Krum, who had said more good things about her in five minutes than Ron had in three years, and more sincerely as well, and who wanted nothing more than an intelligent companion who wouldn't act star-struck around him. Smiling, Hermione placed her hand in his. She could do that.
OoOoO
Exhaling shakily, Hermione smoothed down the front of her dress. It was cliché, but looking at herself in the mirror...she really thought she looked like a stranger. She'd have to do something nice for Lavender and Parvati – the two girls had practically leapt at the chance to give her a makeover, and looking at herself now, she couldn't help but think that maybe they had a point. She looked...gorgeous.
Swallowing, Hermione picked up her bag – and her courage – and left her room, careful not to trip on the stairs. It could certainly be considered making an entrance if she came tumbling down the staircase!
Biting her lip when she saw the common room was nearly deserted, Hermione completely missed the stunned looks of the few students there as she hurried out of the tower and to the Great Hall – the champions had to enter first and Hermione didn't want to be late! She'd die of embarrassment if she had to walk in alone, with everyone staring. And forcing Krum to walk in alone..! Hermione wanted to run, but the heels felt cumbersome no matter how small, and she bit back a curse as she stumbled.
"Vnimavam," a low voice said, and she found her hand grasped. "Careful." Viktor Krum stood on the landing she had just reached, and she wondered whether he had been coming to find her. Something must have showed in her face, because he said, "There is time," before tucking her hand into the crook of his arm.
Hermione flushed further and muttered something about not wanting to make him wait, and he shook his head.
"I should haff picked you up, but no one vould give me directions," he scowled, and Hermione bit her lip to contain a giggle. She could just imagine him surrounded by fangirls and fanboys who were more focused on getting his autograph than helping him.
"Don't worry, it's fine," she reassured him, and his tiny smile surprised her into a sincere one of her own. Maybe she'd enjoy this ball.
OoOoO
And she did. The food was good and the conversation even more so; despite the language barrier, Krum was an interesting conversationalist, and the topics they covered were manifold. Not once did the conversation turn to Quidditch.
Having to open the dance floor was nerve-wracking, but Krum had a firm grip and a level gaze, and Hermione found herself smiling as he led her across the floor – well, until she caught sight of Harry and Parvati.
"Vot is it?" Krum asked, having caught her wince, and Hermione quirked a smile.
"Well, Harry only learned this dance a few days ago..." and it shows, she finished the thought, but Krum was giving the other pair an assessing look.
"He is not doing so badly, then," he said, turning his attention back to Hermione. "I vas much vorse ven I learned to dance."
"Really?" Hermione asked, honestly surprised. "You lead so well, though!"
That got a laugh from the Bulgarian, and Hermione realized she'd never seen him laugh before – not that he'd been at the school for long, she chided herself when she felt a rush of accomplishment.
"I vas horrible," Krum chuckled, sweeping her in a wide spin. "I had to practice much to dance a simple valtz vell."
"The practice paid off, then," Hermione shot back, and was rewarded with a grin.
"If the practice brings such praise from such a beautiful voman, I vill haff to practice more!"
Hermione blushed at the compliment, feeling tipsy on laughter and spins and his hands holding her steady. "Perhaps you should," she mumbled, red-faced and not caring, not when she had made her dance partner laugh again and sweep her off across the floor.
OoOoO
It was like a fairytale until Ron confronted her – and Hermione was just about to turn away in furious tears when Viktor brushed past Ron, giving him a glare that had even the brash redhead flinching away. Reaching her, he bowed and held out his arm.
"Allow me to escort you to your tower," he said, his accent stronger with his disgust.
"With pleasure," Hermione said loudly, taking his arm and sweeping out of the hall by his side. With his strong arm under her hand, she didn't stumble despite her blurred vision.
Viktor was silent all the way to the tower, and Hermione was glad for it – she needed the quiet to compose herself, process what had happened and how she had reacted, and decide how to act around Ron the next day. By the time they had reached the tower, she had firmly decided that she wouldn't let Ron ruin her night with his temper, and that she'd give him the cold shoulder until he apologized. Considering how long it had taken him to apologize to Harry for accusing him of entering the tournament on purpose, she thought it might take a while.
"Thank you, Viktor," she said when they reached the tower, letting her hand linger on his arm as she turned with a small smile. "I enjoyed myself tonight. Don't worry about Ron – he's a prat and he has a temper, but he'll come around. Sooner or later," she muttered with an eye roll. Shaking her head, she gave her date another smile. "You've been wonderful, and thank you very much for asking me to the Ball."
"No, thank you for accepting," Viktor demurred, taking her hand and bending to brush a kiss over her knuckle. "I vill see you again soon."
"I'd like that," Hermione smiled, doing her best not to blush.
"Until soon, then," the Bulgarian squeezed her hand with the tiniest smile before releasing it and stepping back. "Good night, Hermione." He sounded out her name slowly, but Hermione beamed when he pronounced it correctly.
"Good night, Viktor!" With a little skip she turned, gave the password, and slipped into the Gryffindor common room. It was with a giddy sense of elation that she climbed into bed that night.
A/N: This is super short and I probably won't write more, but rereading it makes me happy and I thought you might like it, too. If it made you smile, let me know! :)