a/n: Goblet of Fire and I have a love/hate relationship. However, one of my favorite characters has always been Viktor Krum and I've wanted to write him from Hermione's point of view for years. So... hopefully this goes well?
Warning & Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Harry Potter and I also do not own e. e. cummings' work. I gave Hermione the age of 15, almost 16, because of her use of the Time Turner.
–
'i carry your heart'
'here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart.'
-e. e. cummings.
–
She's logical above all else- some days at Hogwarts were so overwhelming that logic was her only comfort. Even after she hands in the Time Turner and drops three classes, life still never seems to slow down. She knows that logically she shouldn't always feel so worn down, like an old stone being weathered away by the thrash of a relentless sea, but time traveling stretched her much too thin.
Though logic is her serenity, there are some nights in her dormitory when she wakes from nightmares of the World Cup and sobs quietly. She hates being so vulnerable in a world she tries so desperately to prove she belongs in- through mind and heart, because she deserves her place in this school. Still, the thought that such evil could contaminate the hearts of any human being terrifies her.
At fifteen years old her best friend's name is pulled out of the Goblet of Fire, his face fills with horror and fear and she knows that Harry would never have asked for this. It disgusts her that her housemates are excited to have themselves represented- didn't any of these people understand what this meant? No. Because they were too jealous, too emotional, not using logic. Ron is the worst of the lot, gaze stony and ears red as he marches up the staircase to his dormitory.
She spends more time in the library when Harry and Ron stop talking, stubbornly refusing to take part in their male thick headedness. There are many nights she's forced to put a silencing charm around her table because of the groups of giggling girls watching the famous Quidditch player sitting two tables away from her.
Viktor Krum is not what she expected- granted she had never know he existed before that summer, and yet, he seemed to be nothing of what she anticipated. He's quiet for the most part, his shoulders hunching over thick volumes written in foreign languages. He reads quickly and ignores the gaggle of onlookers, his eyes flicking up to meet hers twice.
She feels something stir in her stomach and logically she knows it's not possible for there to be butterflies inside her body, but her heart begs to differ.
–
It starts off small.
Viktor Krum spends several nights at his table, two away from her common spot, books piled around him and scrawling notes ceaselessly. She wonders if he's having to do homework; the idea of an international Quidditch star doing homework is almost silly. She shakes her head though, because it's pointless to wonder about these things. He may sit only five feet away but she would never speak to him; she wasn't completely sure he was even fluent in English.
Sometimes she brings books that remind her of home to the quiet spaces to read between homework assignments. Hermione finds herself missing home more often than she thought she would. Living at Hogwarts could get terribly lonely when your two best friends seemed unlikely to stop sending passive-aggressive signals at each other.
It's a stormy Tuesday night when she comes into the library and finds Viktor Krum sitting on the other side of her table. She's automatically irritated by this because that is her space and now the giggling idiots will be even worse. She sighs in frustration and he glances up at her curiously.
"I can leave if you vould like? I have already cast the silencing spell." He says cautiously and Hermione doesn't really know how to react to these words.
"Oh, no. You were here first, in any case I don't think you're a very loud studier." She smiles kindly, ducking her face to dig in her bag so he won't see her cheeks flare.
Viktor Krum gives her a half smile, his eyes fixated on her in a way that makes her pulse rush and palms sweat. She decides to sit down before she manages to faint and distracts herself by pulling out her school books.
"You have many classes?" He asks, seemingly unable to help himself, eyeing the stack of books that has partially obstructed his view of her.
She looks up at him in surprise, "Oh, not really. It looks like a lot but some of these are just for light reading." Her answer doesn't seem to surprise the Durmstrang student. He turns back to his own books and leaves her to read up on the Goblin wars in peace.
–
Their pattern continued every night, as Harry and Ron were back to pretending they had never fought and Hermione was left to her own devices. He was always waiting in the library, every night, and his dark hair was getting long enough to cover his eyes.
"Your friend flies very vell." He spoke upon her sitting in front of him, eyes roving her face with the same curious expression as always.
She tilts her head to the side, "I suppose he does, I don't know a terrible lot about Quidditch, really. But Harry did always seem to be the best flyer on the team." She pauses from pulling out her parchment and catches the surprised look on his handsome face.
"You do not enjoy Quidditch?" He asks and she pulls an unpleasant expression for forgetting that he's an international star in the very sport she has no interest in.
"Oh, um, I enjoy watching it, I was at the World Cup over the summer and it was really fun, but brooms and I do not... get along." She admits wearily and is surprised to hear his quiet laugh and raises her eyebrow in query.
He shoots her a small smile, "I had vondered vhy you did not have me sign something in lipstick." His words cause her to laugh too, until her sides hurt.
"Because I'm not some mindless fangirl, though you are a very good player. I'm sorry about your nose." She replies when they stop laughing and he gives her another surprised look.
"You noticed my nose?" He asks, to which she nods and explains, "I was in the top box when you came in, I was afraid you were going to faint from blood loss." Her words cause his expression to shift to a quiet contemplation.
"You are a very unique voman, Hermy-own." She rolls her eyes but doesn't bother trying to correct him for the millionth time and just gives him a small smile.
They settle into their work and during some rather complex Charms work she reaches up to pull her uncontrollable hair back, a few strands fall from her grasp and she doesn't bother, but Viktor's warm fingers reach up to push them out of her face and she looks up, his dark, round eyes focused purely on her.
She doesn't sleep at all that night.
–
When McGonagall announces the Yule Ball, Hermione is about one hundred percent sure that she'll spend that night in the library or common room. She doesn't mind because it means she'll get a comfy armchair to study in. She listens to the girls around her fret about dress robes and dates and what boys they want to ask them and she rolls her eyes.
Hermione's not really one for fantasies and daydreams anyway, though as she watches Viktor Krum enter the Great Hall that night, she feels her heart do a small flip and sighs. His eyes glance up to where she's sitting from the Slytherin table and he shoots her a wide grin as he grabs a piece of veal. She really can't help smiling back.
When she reaches the library that night she turns the corner to their table to find it empty. Her heart thuds to a halt and she doesn't understand why she's so upset- he's probably just busy, but it's the first night she's been alone in weeks and weeks.
She pulls her chair out in melancholy, noticing a piece of parchment that falls to the floor. Curiously she bends to pick it up and unfolds the paper carefully.
'no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you'
Written beneath the poem are only eight words:
Vill you go to the ball vith me?
She smiles because he's left his accent in the writing so she cannot mistake this note was for her. Viktor Krum wanted to take her to the ball in front of the entire school, all those girls that wanted him to ask them and it was her he did ask. And in the most perfect way she could imagine.
Her eyes glance over at the sight of a familiar body sliding into the seat across from her. He looks like he might be having a slight anxiety attack.
"How on earth did you know about e. e. cummings?" She asks, her entire brain forgetting what logic even was as he gazed at her.
"My mother. She is Muggleborn and vould read me his vorks as a boy." He offers quietly, still looking as though he might throw up at any second. "And you have his book in your bag." He glanced down at the aforementioned object in nervousness.
Before she can control it, her face has broken into a wide smile, "Yes, of course I'll go with you." He lets out a relieved sigh and she thinks it must be an alternate universe she's living in where Viktor Krum was worried that she would say no.
"I vanted to ask you on a date ven I first saw you." He says hesitantly and her mouth opens only slightly at the admission.
"Well, I'm glad you did ask me." She whispers kindly, after a moment, cautiously wrapping her fingers around the warmth of his palm. His fingers squeeze her own and she wonders if they could just sit like that for the rest of forever.
–
The night of the ball approaches much faster than she had expected, her entire body turning into a ball of nervous energy. Ginny spends the entire day leading up to the ball flitting around Hermione, dragging brushes through unruly curls and patting light foundation onto her soft skin.
"Oh, Merlin, I can't wait to see his face when he sees you!" Ginny squeals in happiness and Hermione chuckles nervously back. She is very thankful she trusted the youngest Weasley with her secret because it was killing her to keep it by herself.
"Let's just hope I don't fall down the staircase, that'd be a real impression." She says in partial humor, but mostly she's quite worried she's going to make a fool of herself.
Ginny had suggested that she leave around ten minutes before most of the house would as to avoid being seen by too many people and Hermione had fully agreed to this plan and so she and Viktor were meeting a tad bit early.
She nearly falls over twice on her way to the grand staircase, but manages to stay upright and eventually reaches the top of the stairs. She peaks around the corner and sees him standing patiently, his eyes looking up the stairs for her. He looks more handsome than she could have imagined and as she makes her way down she focuses on his face. Upon realizing that she's approaching him his eyes brighten and he sends her a reassuring smile before extending his hand and taking her own.
"Merlin, I thought I was going to fall." She breathes upon being safely next to him, his warm arm lightly wrapped around her waist.
"I vould not let that happen, Hermy-own." He says confidently and she laughs softly, "You are very beautiful all the time, but even more tonight." His compliment stains her cheeks with a deep red blush and she laces her fingers through his.
"You're not so bad, yourself." She breathes back, leaning against him in the ever growing mob in the entrance hall.
–
It's as she's dancing with Viktor when she realizes something extremely important. His arms are firm around her, keeping her close to him as all the jealous fangirls look on with anger and jealousy, but she doesn't notice anyone but him.
Viktor makes her feel like a princess.
Hermione's logical above all else and she's never allowed herself to daydream about a perfect fairytale or love stories, because really girls like Hermione don't get love stories. But Viktor liked her without her hair being straight and shiny, he liked that she wanted to read everything in the library and that still wouldn't be enough. He liked that she didn't like broomsticks and that she treated him like a human being and not a god.
The warmth in her chest spreads and as Viktor walks her up to her dormitory that night she's still fuming over her fight with Ron in the Great Hall. They reach the Fat Lady and she looks up at him, all thoughts of Ron banished from her mind. Sometimes she doesn't know how he can manage to make her feel like the only girl in the entire world with one look.
"You are a very good dancer, Herm-own-ninny." He whispers and she rolls her eyes because she's probably the worst dancer in the world.
"Well, I think having a good partner has something to do with that." She whispers back, watching as his face grows closer to her own.
His lips aren't a surprise, because this seems a long time coming, but Viktor is warm and comfortable and his lips taste like Butterbeer. She wonders if he knows that she's almost sixteen and has never been kissed and then she thinks this would be quite the story to tell when she's old and gray. Mostly, she doesn't think, though, because when his lips hit hers all logic goes out the window and she is left with just him.
She has a blazing row with Ron in the middle of the common room but nothing can dampen her spirits as she goes up to her bed and hums to herself as she readies for bed.
She knows there will be a lot of questions in the days to come but she also knows that Viktor will be waiting at their table in the library every evening and that's good enough for her.