Author's Note: Yeah… late, but the heat has been killing me. Thanks for the reviews guys!

"…" – speech

'…' – thoughts

italics – text/sounds/foreign language

Chapter Two

(Diagon Alley, London)

A loud crack signaled Viktor's entrance in Diagon Alley; it had been a while since he had been in England. He had almost forgotten how agreeable the weather was even during the summer. The Seeker was glad that everybody was still so caught up in their celebrations that they didn't pay much attention to him. He found a spot to sit around a large stone fountain and waited patiently for Hermione to arrive. The minutes passed by slowly. What was keeping her? Did she change her mind? Maybe something happened to her? Viktor checked his watch: he was twenty minutes early.

His eyes narrowed in annoyance. 'You're an idiot Viktor.'

The Bulgarian Seeker suddenly felt something tugging on the hem of his robes. He looked down to find a copper haired English girl, not yet in the double digit ages, staring brightly at him.

"Excuse me, sir." Her honey colored eyes shined. "Are you Viktor Krum?"

"Vhy yes I am, little von." He smiled warmly. "Vot is your name?"

"I-I-I'm Sophie." She blushed, disarmed by his smile. "M-m-my daddy tells me that you're a great Seeker. I s-saw you at the World Cup a-and I-I think th-that…"

"Vould you like an autograph?" Viktor interrupted gently, gesturing to her parchment and quill.

"Y-yes please!" Sophie thrust her hands forward.

Viktor stood up, noting that the girl barely went past his knees, knelt beside her and scribbled on her piece of parchment.

Sophie

I hope to see you at the next Quidditch World Cup. Perhaps one day we can play together.

Best Wishes,

Viktor Krum

He kindly handed the parchment and quill back to her and she squealed a "thank you" before running back into the crowd to her father. Viktor smiled at her, it was always refreshing to have a fan approach him for simply an autograph instead of Quidditch lessons or suggestive proposals.

"Aww, how sweet." A teasing voice came from behind him.

Viktor turned to see a pretty brunette witch smiling gently at him.

"It is good to see you again, Her-my-knee." Viktor stood, clicked his heels together, bowed and kissed her hand.

"You've gotten better!" Hermione giggled.

"It could still use some vork…" He said, a little embarrassed.

She squeezed his hand gently. "I like the way you say it."

Viktor felt a twinge of pink go through his cheeks. "Do you haff efferything you need?"

"Uh huh." She gestured to the trunk behind her.

He walked behind her and pulled up the trunk. "It is a little heffy for clothes."

"I would think so; those are my books." Hermione smirked. "This is where my clothes are." She held up a small beaded purse.

"Is very much like you to haff more books than clothes." He raised his eyebrows teasingly. "But I suppose I vill enjoy anything you can vear in that little bag."

"I put a charm on it, Mr. Pervert." She made a face and marched passed him.

"Do you know vare you are going?"

Hermione lowered her gaze and frowned in annoyance. Viktor chuckled and took her hand gently.

"Trust me."

Another crack and they both disappeared and reappeared in a clearing with a single apple tree. Viktor dropped Hermione's trunk beside the tree and gestured for her to sit. She obeyed and watched him curiously while he examined the foliage. Her head tilted to the side as she observed him walk in a circular pattern around the base of the tree. She was about to question him but he nodded his head in satisfaction after his fourth trip around the tree and sat beside her on the trunk. His hand gently curled around her fingers and he held his free hand out toward the tree.

"Accio!"

(Viktor's Residence, Bulgaria)

A ruby red, perfectly ripened apple flew into his open hand and before Hermione could inquire how he did that, she felt a hook just behind her navel yank her upward and her surroundings blurred around her. Her hand clutched the side of her trunk and likened her experience to how it would feel to be inside of a blender. After another minute of spinning, she landed with a thud on the pavement outside of, what appeared to be, a modestly sized community of townhouses in front of acres of empty land. Viktor stood up and took a bite out of the juicy red apple and stared at her pointedly.

"Affle?" He offered during a swallow.

"How did you do that?" She ignored the apple.

"Do vot?" Viktor took another bite.

"Use a Summoning Charm without your wand."

He looked at her curiously. "You do not know how?"

Hermione looked as if he had horribly offended her. "No I don't!" She responded indignantly.

Viktor shrugged and levitated the trunk with his hand. "Vill show you how later. Come inside now."

The witch glared at the trunk, annoyed that it would follow Viktor's commands when he didn't have a wand and it would only do what she wanted to when she used her wand. Even after school she seemed to have a complex about being outdone when it came to her magical education. Viktor did have three years more experience, she tried to reason with herself and she had missed her seventh year at Hogwarts, so it was completely understandable that Viktor would be a little more advanced. All that logic didn't stop her from swearing to buy a load of new spell books the second she got a change though.

"This vill be your —," Viktor's eyebrows quirked up. "Is there something wrong?"

Hermione's face had screwed up in annoyance during her mental berating of her lack of magical education.

"Huh?" She quickly smiled. "Oh, nothing. What were you saying?"

"Er… this vill be your room." He said, using his hand to introduce the room. "Vill giff you rest of tour after you haff gotten settled."

Hermione walked into the room with a bit of disappointment in her eyes. It was, in fact, a beautiful room. The burgundy carpet matched the bed sheets and curtains and was soft and plushy between her toes while the bed frame, dressers, nightstand and door were crafted with a fine oak finish, as if they were all made in a set. The walls and ceiling were a clean white and two sliding mirrors, which occupied one wall, hid a large closet. Beautiful, simply beautiful but she had held a small hope in her heart that she would be sharing a bed with Viktor, after all, hadn't they been intimate enough in the past for them to share a bed? The witch shook her head ridiculously; she was being insanely presumptuous. It has been years since they've seen each other and what right did she have to expect such a thing? He could have found someone else already; it's not like someone as famous and handsome as he was would just wait for her and he obviously has his pick of women. Viktor must have seen her eyes darken a bit and voiced his concern.

"There is something you are not liking?" The Bulgarian wizard frowned.

"No, it's wonderful." Hermione smiled placidly. "I just wanted to finish the tour now; I have plenty of time to get settled; I hope."

"Ah, off course." Viktor lowered Hermione's trunk to the foot of the bed and lead her across the hall.

"This is…" He paused for a moment, trying to grasp at a word. "…toilet room vith bathtub for you."

"Just for me?"

He nodded and pointed down the T-shaped hallway. "My room is to the right; has own toi- er… bathroom." He suddenly remembered the correct term.

Viktor snarled internally, immediately regretting that he hadn't practiced speaking English in the last four years. He felt the same way he had felt when he first started learning it: stupid. It has always left a bitter taste in his mouth, but knowing that Hermione understood him made it so much sweeter. Although all of her letters allowed him to wrap his brain around the language, his tongue still fumbled with the words and he sometimes confused concepts. The Seeker was grateful for Hermione's gentle corrections and patience for his learning curve.

"And to the left?" Hermione queried.

"Room for Quidditch."

"Oh?"

The witch walked down the hall and entered the room. Awe and admiration suddenly bloomed in her chest. She wasn't the biggest Quidditch fan but even she could tell that the amount of shimmering gold and silver cups reflecting off of her eyes was incredibly impressive. Some of the medals and cups had inscriptions in Cyrillic but she assumed they said the same as the rest: Viktor Krum, Quidditch - something or other with a sentence below his title describing his amazing skill in that particular game. She took a particularly well polished trophy from one of the stands and stared at it appreciatively.

"That von is my favorite." Viktor smiled over her shoulder.

"It is? Why?" Hermione responded quizzically, staring at the number 2 engraved among the foreign symbols. "Doesn't this say you've won second place?"

"Yes." He responded, impressed. "You know how to read it?"

"No…" She smiled in embarrassment. "…but this number two kind of gives it away."

"Oh?" The burly Bulgarian raised his eyebrows innocently. "Vould haff thought they vould use Cyrillic numbers…"

"You're right…" She frowned. "I wonder why… hey!"

Viktor felt his spine stiffen slightly. "Vot?"

"You forgot to tell me why this one is your favorite."

"Did not forget." He smiled slyly. "Come, tour is incomplete."

"Why don't you want to tell me?" Hermione's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Vill tell you later."

"I didn't know you were the type to keep secrets." Her lips twitched slightly. "Especially with something like this..."

"Not secret; just something I vill tell you later."

"Like your magic tricks?"

Viktor sighed. "Can tell you reason now, and not teach you magic or vill tell you later, and teach you magic. Vhich vould you like?" Victory sparkled in his eyes.

"Fine," She returned the trophy to its original spot. "I can wait."

As curious as she was, Hermione wasn't one to risk missing out on a chance to improve her magical talent. They left the trophy room and Viktor directed her to the kitchen, then the living room before taking her to the backyard, which seemed to stretch a mile in each direction.

"How do you have such a big yard when you have neighbors?"

"Buy land from neighbors. It is very good for Quidditch practice."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're spoiled?"

"Vitch Veekly says so effery vonce in avhile."

"Well I'm inclined to agree with them this time."

"Perhaps you should get settled now?" He interjected with mock annoyance. "I vill make lunch vhile you unpack."

"You can cook?" Hermione stared at him disbelievingly.

"I…" The Bulgarian wizard hesitated for a moment. "I vill do votever I can."

She shot him a look of pure amusement and returned to her room to unpack. Hermione opened her trunk and pulled out stack after stack of thick heavy reference and spell books. She transfigured her trunk into a fine oak bookcase to match the rest of the furniture. After she deposited her books into the bookcase, she was pleased to find that she had two extra shelves for the new books she planned to buy. The witch stared at the small beaded bag lying on the bed and frowned. She wasn't in the mood to unpack, but it was so unlike her to leave something unfinished. But then again, it was unlike her to decide to leave Britain so suddenly and run off to Bulgaria.

'It wasn't a sudden decision was it?' She bit her lip nervously. 'This was something you've been planning for a while, hasn't it?'

Hermione shook her head of her thoughts and stood up firmly. She walked out of the room without looking at the unpacked bag once, but couldn't help but give just a little worried glance back at the door she had closed behind her. The witch's feet stepped lightly along the hardwood floor, following the path into the kitchen, to see how Viktor was faring. Hermione arrived to find Viktor pointing his wand to a pot of water on the stove.

"Incendio!"

"Viktor!" Hermione shrieked suddenly when the pot burst into flames. "Aguamenti!" A shower of water shot from her wand and subdued the flames almost instantly.

Viktor stared angrily at the pot and Hermione looked at him disbelievingly. "Is this how you cook?"

"That vos… just an accident." He continued to glare at the pot, as if it was somehow its fault.

"What's this?" Hermione picked up a piece of parchment full of Cyrillic writing.

"Oh… uhh…" Viktor blushed lighly. "Just directions to make gyuvetch."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Is that right?" Not at all sure if whatever he had mentioned was edible. "Where did you get it?"

"From my mother." He glanced over her shoulder.

Hermione looked horrified. 'Was his mother right behind me?'

She turned and was relieved to find a picture of a dark haired woman smiling gently at her.

"This is your mother?" Hermione said in awe. "She's beautiful."

The woman in the portrait laughed softly. "Vhy thank you darling. I see my Vitya has chosen vell."

Before Hermione could question the portrait's remark, Viktor quickly interrupted. "That is enough, maika."

Hermione took a step back to avoid blocking Viktor's view of his mother as they began arguing in Bulgarian. Actually, it was more Viktor arguing, and his mother would smile innocently and placidly respond with a few well chosen words. Hermione was starting to feel a bit awkward standing between two people conversing in a language in which she had no understanding. The situation ended with Viktor grabbing the photograph, and with incredible difficulty, gently pressed the framed picture face down on the countertop; his eyes narrowed and frustration grew steadily in his expression.

"Are you…" Hermione broke the silence with her timid question. "… alright?"

"Am fine." He couldn't quite keep the growl out of his voice. "Maika… My mother was just being… like my mother."

"Do you often have rows with your mother like that?"

"Only vhen she mentions certain things."

"Like what?"

"She…" His cheeks flushed suddenly. "…vishes very much to see me… married."

"Oh." Hermione's cheeks matched his, understanding what his mother meant. "Why does she want you to get married so soon? You're only 21…"

"Perhaps it is different vith Muggles…" Viktor explained. "… for most vizards and vitches, it is more common to be married around this age. Also, my brother has announced his engagement a few veeks ago."

"Oh… how old is your brother?"

"Tventy-fiff." Viktor shuddered suddenly. "Mother in picture has probably told real mother that I haff brought home fiancé. Whole family has been prodding me to find vife; they think it is simple because I am famous."

Hermione giggled. "I suppose it is more difficult for famous people, but Harry did okay finding someone…"

"It is very difficult." He said a bit crossly.

The British witch smiled gently. "I was just kidding." Her gaze lowered a bit. "Love is probably the hardest thing to find, even for a Seeker."

'Not as hard as you would think…'

End of Chapter Two

Author's Note: I would've made this longer, but I think it would've spiraled out of control a little bit.