Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the story. If I did, it wouldn't be called fan fiction.

Chapter 1: Seville

Hermione Granger closed her eyes as cheers and claps filled the air around her. Getting up she walk down the seats to exit the Plaza. She had never been particularly fond of sports or violence or animal abuse so why she decided to watch a bullfight was something not quite clear in her mind. Walking in the building towards the exit she was thankful she had gotten lucky to catch a noon show which meant she had time to go to one of the museums and forget what she had just witnessed. To think she was in Spain because of negotiations to better the House-Elf laws around Europe. Finally finding the door she stood outside and began looking in her bag to find her guide book as some of her things fell over. She cursed silently, bending down to pick them up when another pair of hands tried helping her.

"Thank you, it's to problem really...gracias." she said feeling embarrassed to be causing such a scene.

"Some things do not change, Miss Granger?" said a voice in a heavy accent Hermione had last heard a little over three years ago. She looked up slowly and there he was. He hadn't changed to much since Fleur and Bill's wedding. As they straitened up he stretched his hand with a warm smile that reached his dark eyes. He still had the trim beard she had first seen that day and could not help to think it made him look handsomer than before. He was slightly taller and looked bulkier than she remembered. Or maybe it was that she had never seen him wearing only trousers and a button up shirt with the sleeves pulled up, holding his jacket over his other arm.

"Viktor! My god it has been so long! What are you doing here?" said Hermione as a smile spread on her face taking the book from her Bulgarian friend. She moved close and hugged him tightly confirming that the years of Quidditch training had been rather good for him. He returned her embrace squeezing her as well.

"I haffe a game next veek. Ve haffe been training in their pitch. Manolo, their captain, he vanted us to see their "other" sport." he said moving his head to signal the Plaza they had both just left. Hermione gave a little laugh and looked down, not sure what else to say to him. She had not seen Viktor Krum since the wedding, it now felt like an era had passed, but in reality it had been nothing. At 21 she felt like she had lived a lifetime since then, like if this life was something completely apart from her year on the run. She looked at her watch being surprised it was barely three in the afternoon. Hermione looked up at the Seeker and put her hand on his shoulder.

"We should catch up. I am sure you have some nice stories to tell."

"The same to you Hermy-own-ny" he said offering his arm to her. "There is place to eat not too far, good food and music. My treat." she just answered with a nod as he began walking leading her down the streets. She asked him about his work, he was still a champion, internationally known for his grace on the broom. And at the last World cup he had finally gotten Bulgaria the victory that had escaped them the first time she had ever seen him play. He had since been training and in games around the world.

"And you have built up quite the fanbase along the way from what I have heard." she said with a disapproving look at him but could not hide the humor from her tone. He laughed, a laugh that sounded deep as if it came from deep within him and he looked at her with a cocked eyebrow.

"Are you jealous?" he said and she answered with a laugh. He smiled, he had missed hearing that. "No, to be honest nothing has been too serious. Most vomen only see Krum the Quidditch player, not Krum the man."

"Well they don't know what they are missing." she said, giving him a playful punch on his arm. "But it hasn't stopped you from a few conquests has it?"

The man just laughed again as they kept walking. The day was hot, Hermione pulled out a fan she had gotten as soon as she had arrived and had felt the dry heat. She turned to look at the man walking next to her. Viktor had always been wearing heavy wools or jackets when she had seen him, the cotton shirt looked like an odd choice for him. In his mind he was running a similar examination of her. Hermione's hair was held up in a bun, looking curlier reminding him of the first moment he saw her in the ball. He had been completely out of breath then, just as now when he had spotted her in the crowd. She had become even more beautiful, even as casual as she looked in jeans and a loose shirt. Krum couldn't deny he felt on top of the world at that moment. As long as he didn't look to the arm wrapped around his own he would be fine.

The afternoon appeared to fly by them. As they ate Viktor told her about his travels. He had been around the world, playing in places Hermione could only dream of one day visiting. He had several offers to join other teams but had remained with his original one from Bulgaria, as well as playing in the National team. Apart from telling him about their year on the run, her stories where not nearly as glamorous, going back to school, graduation, and now working in the ministry. As night began to fall he told her of places he visited and the people he had met, of things he had learned. As they walked around the city she talked about its history, both Muggle and magical, of the many moments both had crossed each other. Viktor listened, and at points joined in on her story. As the night had reached its peak they had gone to one of the cities Flamenco bars and now sat in the darkened building, tapas and an open bottle of red wine in front of them.

"It vould be foolish to stand in you vay Hermy-own-ny." he said with a smirk taking a drink from his glass as she laughed.

"You always overestimate me Viktor." she said as she nodded softly moving her glass slightly as the wine swished in it. She put it down when she felt his hand on hers.

"I vould think,by know you vould haf seen I speak the truth. I am not the only one to think so."

Hermione just looked up at him with a soft smile on her lips. There was something about Viktor that never made her feel like she had to prove herself. Something effortless, natural. A warmth when he looked at her that no one else seemed to match...Hermione sat up straighter and mentally chastised herself. She was in no position to be thinking this kind of things. She took another drink from her glass and set it down. Viktor was just looking at her, lips stretched in a soft smile. Just as said lips parted to talk the strum of a guitar and the cheers of the other patrons startled them as music filled the bar. Hermione watched as some began clapping in time with the music. A young woman stood and began dancing, her skirt twirling. Little by little some of the other customers stood, pairing up and joining. Hemrione just looked at them, feeling almost as if this was some kind of spell that was pulling her in. Somehow Viktor stood up and offered his hand.

"Could I haff this dance?" he said doing a playful little bow.

"I don't know how to dance this Viktor...I'll look foolish."

"Neither do I"

Hermione looked back at the pairs dancing; they were a bit farther away. Well, they would be fools together. She took his hand and he pulled her close, his hand resting on the small of her back. She placed hers on his arm and felt his broad shoulders envelop her. The man who had been playing began singing with a sad voice. For a moment she felt fifteen again, in the middle of the Great Hall as the Yule Ball started. It almost felt like no time had passed since their last dance. They began moving letting the music guide their movements even if they did not know how to follow. He smiled and a giggle escaped from her lips. Then the chorus was sung, both smiles seem to slowly dim. For a moment she felt like all the air had left her. The words made her swallow hard. From the look on his eyes she could tell Viktor understood it just as well as her. She felt him breath hard when she moved closer to him. His movements became confident as he led her. Everything else faded, they where alone in the darkened room holding on as the words entranced them. Hermione felt her heart beat faster and faster, threatening to escape from her chest. Viktor pulled her closer; she felt his whole body tremble. As the chorus sang once more she saw his black eyes mist ever so slightly. The pleadings of the song felt like they were reading every word from the Bulgarians heart. She felt as in a dream, as if this dance could last forever. His stare was on hers, unwavering. Their bodies felt warm against each other, black eyes speaking words that had been kept silent so long. Her eyes were lost, her head was spinning. There was only them. Closer still they stopped moving, holding each other tightly, lips locked and arms embracing one another. They awoke from their mutual dream when they heard claps and the music was gone. They didn't turn to look at the people cheering them. Still looking at one another Viktor only broke their connection to look for some money in his pocket, setting it on the table. They exited the bar hands held tightly. Hermione's mind was whirl. She tried to understand what was happening to her. She still felt Viktors kiss on her lips, the feel of his body against her own. Before she could stop herself she felt herself dissppareting, pulling Viktor with herself.

Where she ended up she had no idea but he seemed to know. The room surrounding them was elegant, decorated with wood paneling and gold. The training uniform left on a pile at the foot of the large bed confirmed her suspicions of this being his room. Viktor was taking deep breaths as he looked at her. He moved close his hand still holding tightly to hers. Hermione had not been able to breathe properly since the dance either. She just stared up at him.

"Stop me." he said in a voice so deep it seemed like he was having trouble forming full thoughts. He grabbed her other hand and pulled her close. "Po dyavolite Herm-" The man was cut off by Hermione placing her hands on his face and pulling him into a deep kiss.

A new story this is only the beginning. The last line Viktor says is Bulgarian for "Dammit". The dance was written inspired by a real sevillana song, which you can listened to here. It's in Spanish but if anyone wants a translation they can ask by PM. Hope you all enjoy it.