She really was the most beautiful girl that he had ever met. Sure, the Veela from home and his fellow champion, Fleur Delacour were stunning, but Viktor Krum thought that their beauty was fake. They were not as gorgeous as the girl studying across from him. She sighed and closed her book with a loud thunk.
"I'm tired of working," she said, and flashed him a smile.
He carried her books out of the quiet library for her, and they walked together through the warm but empty corridors. He wondered if he should take her hand. No, then I'll drop her books. He wondered where she was taking him; the corridor that she was walking down was unfamiliar. Should I hold her hand when we get there? He wondered if she wanted to hold his hand. I suppose I'll find out...
She took him to a small but beautiful room deep in the castle. Lining the walls (there truly was not one square inch of space left) were hundreds of clocks. Hermione shyly took the books from Viktor's hands and placed them on the floor, a short distance from the pair.
He decided to take her hand. "This room is vunderful."
She seemed reasonably nervous; a blush was definitely crawling up her cheeks. "Time is ticking, Viktor," she breathed. "You won't be here long. You're leaving in a few months, and then I won't get to see you..."
"You vill, I am sure," he said bravely, his heart racing. "You did not hear vhen ve vere at the lake side, you care for your friend –"
He took her other hand as well. They were facing each other, they could feel the others breath on their faces.
" – Vould you like to come to visit me in Bulgaria these next holidays?"
She turned very red, and stammered her answer. "Oh, Viktor, I don't know. I mean, I'd love to, but my family – I hardly see them either..."
Trying to disguise his disappointment, he said "Don't vorry. I understand."
He gave her a kiss to prove that he knew how she felt. But he didn't. He had lied. He only ever felt loved when he was with Hermione, and she was right, soon they would be separated. He would have to go back to Bulgaria, to his family that always expected him to do better; to people who only liked him because he was good at Quidditch. And Triwizard Tournaments, if he won. But he doubted that. The Hogwarts champions were too good.
Stop thinking about the future. Think about now, he told himself.
So he continued to kiss the love of his life, the girl he was prepared to wait a thousand years for. The only girl in the world who liked him for himself. The moment would have been the best of his life, if it weren't for the regular ticking of the clocks around them.
To remind Viktor that love doesn't last.