Viktor Krum approached the girl standing on the deck, watching the sea funnel move around the ship. She was the only one here, everyone else had turned in long ago. "Rozalija." He said, coming to stand beside her, looking out at the strange whirlpool around them. "What is bothering you, dushteryá?"

"There's no wind." Rozalija said, gesturing to the great bubble of air and magic, protecting them from the water surrounding them. "It's so still, so silent."

The former seeker leaned into the railing a bit more, understanding what she meant. "Is that all?"

"Ne, Tate." The girl confessed, nervously. "What if I fail? What if I bring dishonour on Durmstrang? I don't want to disappoint everyone. I don't want to...what if they hate me?"

Viktor knew that it was the truth, or part of it. He slung an arm around his daughter's shoulders. "When I came to compete in the Triwizard Tournament, I felt the same things." He laughed when she gave him a look that said she didn't quite believe him. "I did! It was very different from Quidditch, and my Highmaster was not as forgiving as yours." He teased.

Rozalija rolled her eyes at her father, who was still in his usual Highmaster robes."What did you do?"

"Sneezed." Viktor said, completely seriously. "Karkaroff was convinced I had a caught a cold at the World Cup."

Rozalija found herself laughing despite the nerves coiling in her stomach. She knew it was true, Viktor always sneezed when he was nervous. "No cold." She assured him.

Viktor sighed. "You will be fine, Roza. I know you will represent Durmstrang with honour, self-discipline, skill, strength, and courage, and you will support your partner."

"Or Hugo." Rozalija whispered.

"Or Hugo." Viktor agreed, just as quietly. "Either way, I am proud of you, dushteryá."

"Thank you, Tate." Rozalija said softly.

Hermione Granger-Weasley was nervous as she ran over her checklist for the event that was being held. "Are you sure you have all the wards updated, Harry?" She asked her best friend and Hogwarts Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. "You of all people know how dangerous this tournament is."

"Yes, I double-checked all the safeguards, Hermione." Harry said with a laugh at the frazzled Transfiguration professor. "And you know the European Interschool Tournament isn't the same as the Triwizard, what with teams and all."

Hermione gave a humph of displeasure. The European Interschool Tournament was in its' second year. It was a competition much like the Triwizard Tournament, but many people competed, in teams of two, with one student chosen from another school, both to encourage international magical cooperation, and to mitigate some of the risks. In the inaugural year Beauxbatons had hosted and a team consisting of one of their students and one from Durmstrang had won, leaving Hogwarts to host the next, to theoretically give it 'home pitch advantage,' as Ron put it. "Not by much."

"Cheer up, Hermione." Harry said, bumping her shoulder. "They'll be here soon. You don't want to be channelling Madam Pince when they arrive."

Hermione forced herself to take a deep breath and relax at that. "Minerva would be fairly cross at me if I offended them right off, wouldn't she?" She wanted to explain to Harry why she was nervous, but she was too afraid. She didn't want Harry to choose between her and Ron. He had proven too many times that he would take Ron's side. It wasn't that he didn't know that the couple had been on rocky ground for years, but he had a blinding kind of optimism that Ron and Hermione were just meant to be and that everything could be worked out. She didn't have the heart to tell him that if magical divorces were possible they would have been long over. She'd like to think that she wouldn't have entered into a marriage with one foot already out, but if she were honest with herself, she would have been far less likely to rush into marriage in the post-war world if she had known magical marriage bonds were impossible to dissolve. She had allowed herself to get caught up in relief and excitement and large gestures from her husband, and as a result, everyone had suffered.

Taking a breath she nodded to Harry and they all headed to the courtyards to meet the delegations of the other schools. It reminded Hermione strongly of her fourth year as she saw the Hogwarts students excitedly peering around them, waiting for the visitors to arrive. The oohs and ahhs of the children amused her as the great powder-blue carriage of Beauxbatons flew into view, and landed with a thump and a creak of wheels as the Abraxans neighed.

Hagrid smoothed his hair last minute as the doors opened and the students of Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons gracefully stepped out into the courtyard, followed by the indomitable Madame Maxime. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the reunion. Hagrid waited for breaks to be able to see her, so for him, Hogwarts hosting this tournament was a dream come true.

The arrival of the great ship of Durmstrang in the lake made Hermione's stomach swoop despite telling herself that she was not as bad as Hagrid. It had been several years since she had seen Viktor, as each time she visited she found it harder to leave. It was not something she was proud of, and so, even though it hurt, she stopped. Viktor deserved to move on, and she had made her choice. It wasn't fair to anyone when she ran back to him for comfort, frustrated, angry, lonely or just tired. He deserved better than that. That, however, did not stop her stomach from tangling up when he walked off the great ship, Highmaster's Staff in hand.

Merlin, he looked like he hadn't aged a day from the last time they had said goodbye, and she had put on twenty pounds. Not that it mattered, because nothing was going to happen. Soul mates or not, she had to do the right thing.

Her sharp eyes saw dark grey eyes search out her son, and her heart ached at the sight of the girl with her hair bound back tightly, with just a few tendrils trying to escape.

She always tried to do the right thing.

She often failed.