DISCLAIMER: I am making no money off this, and this site isn't either. This is purely fan-fiction written by a weird person who has absolutely nothing better to do than write this stuff. I don't own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Snape, etc. J.K.R. does.

This is a Viktor Krum/Luna Lovegood piece, and therefore (in that respect) AU. But we're keeping pretty much to canon for the rest of the story. Hope you enjoy!

As Time Goes By

By Anachronistic Anglophile and Pepper Lane

The Tri-Wizard Tournament, with all of its trials and tribulations, had concluded, and the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were assembling to leave. Some grumbled about leaving, others were just tired, but ultimately there was a sense of dissatisfaction and unhappiness in the air. There was the disgruntled suggestion that Harry did not deserve the prize after what had happened, a sentiment shared by many. It was popularly believed that Harry—though he and the other contestants had integrity unparalleled by other past participants—was a cheat and a liar, but others argued that since Hogwarts did lose one of their contestants, it was all right in the end.

Of course, the accusation that The Dark Lord had returned was one that hung heavily over many a disappointed heart. Numerous doubted the feasibility of the accusation, and many were simply confused about it, but those who took Dumbledore and Harry seriously were terrified.

Some, however, had more important things on their minds.

Luna wove her way through the crowd of students in the midst of their farewells; friends embraced each other tearfully, couples calling to each other to write long, long letters over the summer. Her long blond hair streaming behind her in a way that was rather becoming (not that she noticed), she vaguely wandered over to the great shadowy ship of Durmstrang, looking for one particular tall, dark head above the crowd.

"Lunah! Lunah!"

Turning towards the sound, Luna spotted Viktor Krum in the mass of people. He had as happy an expression as he could manage on his face, and she waded over to the tall, dark-haired boy with heavily-knitted eyebrows.

"Hello, Viktor." Her sweet, dreamy voice glowed with friendship as she embraced the boy, her newest and best friend of that year.

"Hello, Lunah."

As romantically aloof as Luna was, she chose not to hear the slight ache in his voice, which betrayed his wish for something beyond friendship. Instead, she smiled and looked at him directly in the eye, in her penetrating way.

"Are you happy to be going home? I know that I would be if I were you."

Viktor nodded his elegant figure, leaning just so slightly towards her.

"I am," he said plaintively, "But also, I am sad."

"Oh," Luna said, and warmly said nothing. She could tell that he wanted to say something that was important to him.

"Lunah," Viktor said, trying to be a smidgen formal, "May I ask of you one question?"

"Of course," Luna said, serene.

Not changing the subject as completely as he seemed, he began to phrase his question by starting with a prelude.

"We have been friends, little Lunah," Krum began, biting the inside of his lip. "You were so good as to come with me to the Yule Ball, and we have had many helpful conversations."

"Like about your dad?" Along with many pureblood boys, Luna had discovered that Krum had a difference in opinion concerning the discrepancies in a diplomatic fashion. In response to her reminder, Krum grimaced but did not turn red in anger.

"I have to thank you, Lunah, for you have helped me understand the ways of my father better than has any friend of his, or even my mother. When I return to my homeland, I will no longer be angry. It is your fault, Lunah, that I vow to put aside my anger. It is, as you said, only the result of his upraising which prejudices him against my Quidditch."

"It may be hard to reconcile, but think about how much he loves you; maybe it will be easier," she consoled him. "But didn't you say you had a question?"

"You wait," he intimated quietly, and appeared to steady himself. "Lunah," he addressed her further, "Though you have helped me, I wish to say: I value you more than for but your helpful self."

She did not understand his slightly garbled syntax.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean to say is this," Viktor began, more urgently. "You are original, Lunah, there are none in the world like you."

"Durmstraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang!" came a military-like call from the crow's nest of the enormous transportation vessel, and all the young men began to rush towards it.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Luna replied, noticing that their time was limited.

Giving up, especially as he was jostled by one or two of his comrades, Krum slipped a gentle kiss on Luna's cheek, and closed her hand around a piece of parchment.

"You are but young, Lunah. Write to me in my homeland."

He kissed her hand in farewell, gave a slight bow, and tore his eyes away from her as he joined his fellow students.

Luna stood and watched impassively as the young Durmstrang men boarded the flying ship. Not knowing if he would see, she raised her hand to briefly wave as the ship closed up and began to rise.

When it had disappeared from sight, Luna sighed. She felt as though she had lost his friendship.

However, she still had his address in Bulgaria. Reasonably optimistic that he would reply, she walked back in the direction of her common-room, already composing a little letter for him in her head.