PROMOT: On a business trip to Bulgaria for the annual International Confederation of Wizards Conclave, Hermione runs into the young wizard who stole a piece of her heart all those years ago.
Disclaimer:Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: This was definitely a challenge trying to write Viktor, but I really hope I did him justice. Thanks to the mods for hosting this fun event in honour of my favourite holiday! Many thanks goes to Quilter Reader, Onecelestialbeing, and Meiri for their quick, last minute help. Lots of thanks goes to articcat621 for her invaluable alpha skills. Last, but definitely not least, buckets of thanks goes to the brilliant Savva for her help in making Viktor and Desislav understandable and her help in making sure I didn't completely bollocks up the Bulgarian. You are an absolute dear.
Friday, 17 March, 2006
Sofia, Bulgaria
Closing Gala of International Confederation of Wizards Annual Conclave
"Vhy are you grinning?"
Viktor glanced at the wizard standing next to him. "I have found best vay to make her leave vith me."
"Vot vay is that?"
"Not take no for answer and just escort her out."
A dark eyebrow rose over an equally dark eye. "You think that vill vork vith her?"
"Yes. She vill not expect such a move from me, so I vill use that surprise to advantage."
The other wizard chuckled, shaking his head. "Vot is phrase… oh, right, your funeral, priyatel."
"But vot better vay to go than beautiful vitch on arm?"
"I see your point." He watched for a moment as the witch in question gave the wizard who had stopped her a pained look as she tried to once again continue on. He clapped Viktor on the shoulder. "Priyatel, now is chance. Želaja ti štastie."
"Mersi, Desi."
Desislav growled. "You know I hate that name."
"Da, but vould you rather I call you Slav?"
"I vould rather Des or Desislav, vhich you already know." Desislav took a friendly swing at Viktor. "Vanker."
Viktor ducked, laughing. "Čao, Des."
"Čao, Viktor. Oospyekh!" Desislav shook his head as he watched Viktor make his way across the room to where the only woman he'd ever loved was still trying to get away from the same wizard.
Desislav watched in fascination as his long-time friend and fellow broom designer not only managed to rescue her from the wizard that had waylaid her, but also observed as the former seeker was soon leading the brunette witch from the closing gala.
"Gospod me ubie!" He smirked. "Lucky bastard."
"Viktor, wait. Where are we going?"
The impish grin he threw at her from over his shoulder put her at ease, but his following comment had her raising an eyebrow.
"Just vait, mila, you vill see in few minutes."
'What is he up to?' Hermione wondered, as she followed Viktor to the bank of fires at the hotel.
"Will I be coming back at all tonight?"
"Nye."
"Then don't you think I need my things?"
"Nye, I had Blaga take your bags to home earlier."
Hermione stopped in her tracks, causing Viktor to pull on her arm as he continued walking. He too stopped when he felt the resistance. "Viktor, why would you do that? What if I don't want to go with you?"
The burly wizard turned to face her. "You vant to know vhy?" At her nod, he continued, "Because, surtse moe, ve have been… vot is phrase? Oh, da, dancing around each other for years." He took a deep breath, a blush stealing across his cheeks. "These past two veeks have reminded me how much I love and care about you."
"Viktor?"
He tugged gently on her hand. "Come. Once at home, I explain rest."
Hermione looked at him, studying him for a moment. After a few silent seconds she nodded her head.
Viktor grinned, gently tugging on her arm as he led her to an empty fireplace. Scooping some floo powder from the box on the mantel, they both stepped into the waiting fireplace.
"Mihov Kŭshtichka!"
Hermione held on tightly as they whirled passed grate after grate, but kept her eyes open to see what fascinating sights lay beyond. Her eyes widened at the sight of a shouting match going on through one grate, she smiled at the sight of three young children sitting together playing a game, but her favourite was the sight of the young crup puppy tugging on its owner's clothing as the young girl was completely engrossed in her book.
Two grates later, they came to a stop. Stepping out of the grate, Hermione took in the newest sight before her. Her jaw dropped.
"You have your library hooked up to the floo network?"
Viktor chuckled, watching ask she started to make her way to the bookshelves before her. "Only for family and those ve bring vith us. Fireplace in front room is for guest use."
Hermione looked over her shoulder at him. "This isn't your parents' library that I remember."
"Nye, this is vhere mama grew up. My dyado and baba left Mihov Kŭshtichka to me as the oldest Mihov vnuk vhen they moved to baba's childhood home a few years ago after her parents passed away."
"So this is where you live now?"
"Da, I vould be happy to show you around later."
"I'd like that, thank you." Trailing her fingers along the spines of the books before her as she read the titles, Hermione asked about the young girl she saw with her puppy.
"That vas Penka, Desislav's neice, vith Ognyan trying to distract her. I vould be happy to introduce you, she vould love to meet fellow reader."
"I'd like that." Hermione smiled as she continued to look over titles that she could only guess what they said. "Viktor, your collection is stunning. I wish I could understand what most of these mean since they're in Cyrillic and my understanding of the Cyrillic alphabet is very limited."
Stepping up behind her, he placed his right hand over her own as it stopped on a well-known book. Her eyes widened at the letters she understood. "Is that what I think it is?"
He pulled the book from the shelf and bringing his left arm around her shoulder, he showed her the cover. "Da."
Hermione sighed, brushing her fingers against the cover as a smile graced her lips. "What I wouldn't give to be able to read Anna Karenina in its original Russian rather than English. The same can be said for the rest of the great masterpieces of Russian literature."
"You vill one day." He eased the old book back into its resting place.
Hermione turned in his arms. "Will you teach me?"
Viktor smiled. "Of course, love." He pulled his left hand back to brush a wayward curl behind her ear.
Her smile dimmed for but a moment before she asked the one question that had been at the back of her mind since before they left the hotel. "Viktor, what exactly did you mean when you said these last two weeks reminded you of how much you love and care about me?"
Viktor closed his eyes and was silent for a few moments as he collected his thoughts. Opening his eyes, he stared straight into Hermione dark brown orbs. "I never stopped,mila..." Victor stumbled, wanting to say this one correctly. Taking a deep breath, he tried again, "I have never stopped loving you, Hermione," making a special effort to pronounce her name correctly.
Watching Hermione's eyes light up as his effort paid off, he knew that even if everything else he had to say was complete gibberish and in Bulgarian, she wouldn't care.
He kissed her forehead. "Even though ve vere only child at the time, I knew you vere the one for me. But then ve vere separated by the miles, school, var, quidditch, and other romances. I lost count of how many failed romances I have because no other vitch could compare to you."
Hermione's eyes began to water as she started to realise that maybe the reason all of her previous relationships failed was not because of a frigid heart as one wizard callously described it, but because her heart already belong to another. And it looked like her luck in love was about to change.
Saturday, 18 March, 2006
Somewhere along the Bulgarian Black Sea Coast, approximately 70 km northeast of Burgas, Bulgaria
Stretching, Hermione arched her back, feeling her joints pop and her muscles ache in protest of such movement. She moaned in bliss, she hadn't felt this good in ages.
"If you keep moaning and stretching like that ve vill never make it out of this bed."
Hermione smiled as Viktor's gravelly voice and quidditch roughened fingers caressed her skin. She opened her eyes, taking in the sight of the handsome wizard lying next to her. Not much had changed for the Bulgarian wizard in the years they had been apart. He still was not as graceful on the ground as he was in the air and his hooked nose and dark hair were his most prominent features, but he was a much more confident wizard in his own skin. Realising that there was a woman, whether witch or Muggle she knew not, in his past that brought out this confidence in him bugged her a little, but at the same time she was thankful for it. Thankful because if he didn't have the confidence he did now, then she very well may have been on her way home to England and her somewhat mundane life rather than lying in bed with the one wizard who stole her heart all those years ago.
She reached up and brushed her fingers first over his eyebrows, then down over his nose, coming to a stop against the lips she had gotten to know very well the night before.
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"Vith you, surste moe? Never." Viktor quickly moved from lying next to her to covering her smaller frame with his own larger one. He grinned down at her. "Vould you like me to show you again how a vizard should have his vitch?"
Hermione hummed, thinking over his question. "Hmmm, you know I love learning, Viktor." She smirked at him as she ran her fingers through his dark locks. "I think I need some more practice."
"I like that idea." He closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against hers. Viktor growled when Hermione nipped at his lower lip. "Mina."
"And you're mine."
AN: Glossary of Bulgarian words
priyatel = friend, Želaja ti štastie = good luck, informal, Mersi = thank you, informal, Desislav = glory, Čao = goodbye, informal, Oospyekh! = Good luck!, Gospod me ubie! = I'll be damned!, mila = sweet, nye = no, Blaga = female form of Blagoy which means 'sweet, pleasant, blessed', surtse moe = my heart, Mihov = means 'son of Miho' which is a diminutive of Mihail (Michael), Kŭshtichka = cottage, Penka = feminine diminutive of Petar (Peter), Ognyan = fiery, dyado = grandfather, baba = grandmother, vnuk = grandchild, Mina = mine