They had spotted Harry Potter and his red-headed friend on their way to the drinks table, both boys looking rather sullen and without their dates. She stopped them to go and say Hello. He decided to leave her to it while he gets their drinks, but not without kissing both her hands first.
He felt high and giddy and he probably looked utterly ridiculous, but he couldn't get enough of kissing her and he wasn't going to stop until she tells him to.
He found Ivanna and her date by the drinks along with that one blond boy that practically clung to Viktor's side for the first few weeks. The blond boy's date, a dark-haired girl that seemed to have somehow gotten her nose permanently stuck in the air, was wearing a pink dress with too many frills. She nudged him when she spotted Viktor approaching.
He ignored them and proceeded to look at the drinks' offered, and then frowned at one particular drink. Who on Earth puts butter in beer?
"I'd recommend that," said the blond boy, picking up a glass and handing it to Viktor. "It's not that great, of course, but it's the best thing they've got in this fleapit."
Viktor accepted the glass from his hand and picked another without uttering a word of thanks. The boy was beginning to sound too much like the Beauxbatons students when they first arrived and he didn't like that very much.
"Durmstrang would've had better options, I'm sure," he added. His grey eyes flickered to the two cups in Viktor's hands and his expression hardened. "I don't think anyone's briefed you on the sort of lot that old fool accepts into this place. Let me start off by telling you that this place is nothing like Durmstrang, where you get proper education with real witches and wizards."
Viktor looked at Ivanna and noticed for the first time since he approached them that she was holding herself rather stiffly by her date, her expression hard and her blue eyes cold. She was wearing a fitting dress of burgundy with a grey fur shawl draped over her arms, and he assumed that she had first looked enticing with her blonde hair curled and her rouged lips and dark eye make-up, but right now she looked as intimidating as she was unapproachable.
He didn't need to ask to know why. She, too, had lost family to dark wizards and blood supremacy.
"That Granger you're with?" said the boy, smirking at the effect his choice of words had on Viktor, who couldn't help but frown at the contempt laced with Hermione's name. "She's a Mudblood, and a beaver-toothed, insufferable know-it-all at that." He practically spat out the rest, making his date shriek with laughter beside him. Ivanna gulped down her drink and grabbed another. "And now that you know–"
"We don't talk like that," said Viktor, his voice low and cautionary and his grip on the cups in his hands hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
Viktor's harsh tone wiped the boy's smile right off his pointed face. The poisonous ideals his father had warned him about seemed to thrive here still despite the school and its Headmaster's reputation, since the boy seemed comfortable enough to use such foul language in the presence of two foreigners.
Viktor turned to Ivanna, who regarded him icily, making him hesitate and really consider his next move. Her date, it appeared, looked unfazed by his friend's choice of words and of how uncomfortable it was making Ivanna. If anything he looked utterly bored with the whole affair and only mildly curious about Viktor and the way he was staring at his date.
"Ivanna, forget Karkaroff," said Viktor, ignoring her date's raised eyebrows. It was very rude of him to start a conversation in a language they didn't understand, but he doesn't like them that much so he doesn't really care if he offends them. If anything, they offended him by uttering such filth in his presence. "I don't know if he did it on purpose, but it's utterly unacceptable and you don't have to put up with it. You're not obligated to–"
"I can take care of myself, thank you!" she snapped, looking like she was more offended at him asking than at the nature of her companions' conversation.
He sighed. "Suit yourself."
He turned around without another word or glance towards her companions. He had no intention of showing off what little influence he had on Karkaroff. He was honestly just trying to help, but if she'd rather grit her teeth and bear with it than accept his aid then so be it. He's not one to force himself on people.
"Where is Herm-own-ninny?" he asked, looking between Harry and his angry-looking friend, confused at the open hostility of the second.
Harry opened his mouth to speak but his red-headed friend beat him to it.
"No idea," he said, looking up at him as if he'd just committed a heinous crime. "Lost her, have you?"
He felt like he was being taunted and his face withdrew back to the usual unfriendliness he reserves for the public. He stopped himself there because he had always prided himself in being above petty squabbles, especially ones he doesn't even know the cause of. Besides that, he had no intention of causing a rift between Hermione and her friends by picking a fight with one.
"Well, if you see her, tell her I have drinks," he said, giving Harry a curt nod and then turning away.
Several tours around the hall and he still couldn't find her. He had already passed the drinks table thrice, and he was almost beginning to recognize some of the faces on the dance floor. He even passed by Poliakoff being instructed to twirl in his spot and swat at imaginary flies by a pale girl that dressed funny, for which he received a very angry swat at the back of his head from Karkaroff followed by a menacing, inhuman hiss that sounded suspiciously like: "stop embarrassing me, you idiot!" eliciting laughter even from those that didn't understand the language.
He felt dread, piercing and sharp, edging closer towards his heart the more he looked. What if she had found the boy she had originally wanted to ask? What if he had whisked her away somewhere far, quiet, and private where their whispers and promises are only for the walls to keep? He had been so sure that he'd won her over, or he was at least beginning to win her over–
A flash of red caught his eyes near the entrance. He instantly recognised the girl with the red hair, her mischievous face now fiery as she marched towards the tables and chairs where some of the dancers sat to catch their breath. Hermione had spoken highly of her the few times she came up in conversation.
He strode towards her as fast as he could without spilling the drinks still clutched in his hands. Her glare snapped up at him but he hardly cared. He had to know, desperately, but the words weren't easy to speak.
"Herm-own-ninny," he managed to say.
"In the courtyard," she said, trudging past him without another word.
He didn't bother looking towards where she was headed. He rushed through the crowd, out the doors, and down the hall where more couples lounged. They thinned considerably and then vanished as he neared his destination, his face stern despite his racing heart and wild imagination conjuring all kinds of unsavory images of his date in the arms of his faceless rival.
He found her alone in the courtyard, pacing by the bench where she first ensnared his senses. She had one hand on her hip holding her heels from their straps and the other massaging her temples. His mysterious rival was nowhere around, but Viktor still wasn't relieved with the sight. She was panting and pacing a little too hurriedly, glowering at the snow scorching her bare feet and muttering to herself. She looked like she had just recovered from a panic attack, except she was more angry than frightened.
He took a deep breath and walked towards her, his steps heavy on the soft snow but not enough to alert her to his presence until he was a foot away. She stopped her pacing and looked at him, first confused and then alarmed.
"I have looked everywhere for you, Herm-own-ninny," he said. He couldn't help the admonishment in his tone, not when she made him panic for a good twenty minutes or so.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Viktor, I didn't– !" she bit her lip, her shame evident on her face. She started pacing again. "I– I needed some air."
He set the drinks on the bench and then stopped her when she came his way again by placing his hands on her shoulders. "Why you did not tell me?"
She shrugged off his hands and scowled at the snow again, seemingly refusing to meet his eyes. "I'm alright, Viktor, I just needed to be alone for a few minutes."
"Why?"
"Oh, for goodness' sake!" she cried, angry and frustrated, whirling away from him and messaging her temples with her fingers again. "I said I'm sorry I left, Viktor, what more do you want? I just needed a few minutes for myself, is that such a bloody hard concept to grasp?!"
He stared at her back, his lips parted slightly, stunned by her sudden outburst. He had left her laughing and beaming, he was sure of it. This beautiful creature that stood before him looked nothing like his date. Something had happened to her while he was gone, he was sure of it. He refused to believe that he was the cause of her misery, not when she had been so happy before he left her.
He saw her shivering, her hands rubbing along her arms furiously to relieve some of the cold. He unfastened his cloak, stepped towards her, draped the heavy material over her shoulders and pinned it in place by keeping his hands over the fabric, causing her to utter a small gasp and stiffen.
"I was worried," he admitted, staring into her smooth curls and the elegant knot, resisting the urge to bury his face in the chestnut locks and beg. "You were gone a long time. I thought–" he swallowed with difficulty, sliding his hands off her shoulders when he was sure the cloak wouldn't slip. "I am not angry you left, Herm-own-ninny. I want you to be happy tonight, so if it will make you happy is ok, I will go. I am happy you said yes, and then you danced and talked with me, but if you don't want you don't have to stay with me."
He was going to kill the bastard that soured her mood and turned her against him, morals and honor be damned.
She turned around then, clutching his cloak tightly around herself, and he quickly dropped his eyes to her feet. They were bare and sunk in snow and turning a darker shade of blue.
"Viktor, why did you ask me to the ball?" she asked, her voice irritable still but shaking slightly.
"I know lady shoes hurt but you will loose your toes walking barefoot in the snow, Herm-own-ninny!" he said, shaking his head at her feet, scolding lightly once again as he eased her onto the bench and then got down on one knee before her. The snow melted under his knee and soaked the fabric of his uniform instantly, making him shiver slightly, but he ignored it and grabbed both her feet and placed them on his lap. He then began brushing snow and grass and bits of mud off one foot. "I don't want to hear excuses. I know you smartest witch in Hogwarts, I know you know warming charms."
He took out his wand and tried one on the tiny foot cradled in his hand. The bluish skin flushed instantly and the warmth reached even his hand holding the foot. He couldn't help but smile when she wiggled her toes experimentally, and again he had to resist the urge to kiss each individual toe.
"And I told you why I asked you to ball," he said as he repeated the procedure with the other foot. "I want to know you, because you are smart and beautiful and different. I have met many girls, Herm-own-ninny, and they are all the same. They don't want to talk to Viktor, they want to talk to the fastest Seeker in the world or to the son of Stefan Krum. They care about what I have in my vaults, not about my favorite books or my opinions on charms and curses and ancient runes."
He grabbed the heels dangling from her hands and slipped them onto her feet and clasped the straps above her ankles. "You see me as a man, Herm-own-ninny. You see many small, important things others don't. People here, I notice they give you hard time for being Muggle-born, but you are not allowing them to stop you. You are very strong. You work very hard to be the best but you also help your friends. You are also very brave, and kind, you worry about small creatures like elves that greatest wizards in the world don't think about, and you are so young and you have no resources or support or influence with powerful people but you still work hard to give those creatures a better life and to make other wizards be aware of their mistakes."
He stopped, staring hard at his long fingers still looped loosely around one ankle as her other foot slid back into the ground. "I know I can ask any girl, Herm-own-ninny, but they will never say Yes to Viktor. They will say Yes to Viktor Krum, Seeker and Champion, but with you there is small chance and I was thinking, even if she is saying no, I want to try asking this girl because she will not make me want to leave after three dances."
His head snapped up when he heard her sniffling. Her hands were no longer clutching his cloak but were balled and shaking on her knees, but that didn't matter as much to him as the wet trails her tears were making on her face.
"You are a very confusing girl," he said softly, his eyes widening as she finally released a sob that she had been struggling to keep in her chest. He sighed and covered her fists with his free hand as the thumb of the hand holding her ankle started drawing soothing circles on the soft, warmed skin. "What happened with you?"
"I'm so sorry I yelled at you, Viktor," she hiccupped, freeing a hand to wipe her tears, only it proved to be futile as more tears spilled over. "I'm sorry, I was horrible towards you and I- I- I took my anger at Ron out on you when you've been so, so wonderful!"
"Is ok, Herm-own-ninny, I am not angry– who is Ron?" he asked, interest piqued at hearing the name of a potential culprit.
"He's my friend and he's an idiot!" she said crossly, glaring through her tears.
"Boy with red hair? What did he do?" He suddenly regrets giving in to his pride and not responding to the boy's hostility.
"He said I'm betraying Harry and Hogwarts and fraternizing with the enemy! Can you believe that? Fraternizing with the enemy, as if he wasn't drooling at the prospect of sharing a table with your school!"
"Fraten– what?"
"Fraternizing, it means forming a friendship with someone you're not supposed to," she explained, her face softening a little as she took in his confused expression. "He thinks you're taking advantage of me."
"I was not raised like that," he said, his face darkening. It's true that in the past he had done things with girls that his parents probably wouldn't approve of, but he had never concealed his intentions from those girls nor did he mislead them or force himself on them. He was disgusted, and now more angry than ever at the boy who blatantly accused him of committing such barbaric acts against none other than Hermione. He swiftly got up on his feet, looking towards the entrance to the castle. "I will go talk to him."
"No!" she gasped, grabbing his hand in haste and attempting to pull him back. "Viktor, please don't! It's not worth it, I promise you I'm alright! Ron, he's– he's actually a really big fan of yours–"
"He speaks of my honour when he knows nothing," he said, refusing to look at her pleading face. "He also hurt you, Herm-own-ninny. He is boy now, but soon he will be man and no one is teaching him how, so I have to."
"Please, Viktor, just leave him!" she tightened her grip when he tried to free himself. "Please, do it for me!"
He made the mistake of looking at her when she said that, and combined with her freshly glistening eyes and desperate voice he was disarmed once again.
He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You don't fight fair."
"That's because I don't want to fight in the first place," she said, tugging at his hand. He slacked and allowed her to guide him to the empty space on the bench beside her. She then looped her arms around his and rested her head on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and allowed her warmth to soothe him. "Will you tell me about the house elves of Durmstrang?" she asked quietly.
"It's not a happy story, Herm-own-ninny," he said, taking in the moisture that still clung to her eyelashes.
She slid one hand down his forearm and looped her fingers through his. "Please, I'd like to hear it now."
"If you insist," he said, looking down at their hands resting on his thigh with fondness. "It happened not too long ago, maybe when I was in fourth or fifth year. Karkaroff was having problems with the cooks. I don't remember what it was, but Karkaroff made them too angry and they all left. He decided to bring house elves like he used to have when he was still boy in England. House elves are not native in those parts, but everyone knows they have better magic so no one thought to stop Karkaroff when he bought hundreds of them and moved them to Durmstrang."
She shivered. She drew his cloak tighter around herself with her free hand and snuggled closer to his side. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before continuing.
"Durmstrang castle… it's not warm like Hogwarts. We only light fires for magical purposes. I don't know why, professors say Muggle scientists they come close to those parts to study animals or lands or the climate in the mountains, and too much heat will expose our school to their machines." He scoffed, still struggling to understand that logic after so many years. "Anyway, you know house elves only dress in little clothing, and how they are not allowed to use magic without their master's permission or to accept clothes or complain about the cold. They cannot argue with their master, or show that they are in pain, and the castle is cold even for us students with all our robes and furs."
He took a deep breath, the memory of their small, cold bodies still fresh in his mind. "They all died after staying in the castle for only one day. It was too cold for them."
"That's awful," she gasped, shivering again next to him. He looked at her and saw that she wasn't crying, but her face was still anguished as she stared wide-eyed into the clearing. "That– that horrible, vile man! Did he not think of at least… oh, I don't know, maybe allowing them to light the fires in the kitchens only if he's so afraid of a few Muggle scientists?! Was he at least somewhat remorseful?"
Viktor snorted. "Karkaroff cares only about Karkaroff. He was annoyed they died. He left the same day to employ cooks and made us get rid of all the bodies."
She hesitated, clearly frightened of her question but far too curious to ignore it. "And how did you dispose of the bodies?"
"We were not allowed to bury them, of course," he said, looking away from her again. "Or burn them, as they do with the dead in some of the students' cultures. They are not considered beings, so no one reported it, and the professors were all too proud to touch them so they made us all tie them to heavy rocks and throw them into the ocean." He tightened his hold on her hand only slightly, suddenly afraid that she'd pull away in fear or disgust, accuse him of all sorts of things when he himself was plagued by the creatures' wide, glassy eyes and frozen leathery skins. "That was the first and last time I saw elves outside books."
She didn't run, as he'd expected her to. She remained by his side, holding his hand still, silently looking up at him as he continued to avoid her eyes by keeping his on the snow laden, empty grounds before them.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Viktor," she said after a while. He looked at her and again he wondered what it was he did in a past life to deserve to have her still by his side. "But it just goes to show how fit you are to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. I always thought you were chosen mostly for your physical strength, and while you're not exactly lacking in that department, I'm beginning to believe that the Goblet chose you for strength in character."
"Boys that removed dead elves put their names in the Goblet, too, Herm-own-ninny."
"Yes, but how many of them are willing to talk about it to someone who's already campaigning to put an end to those kinds of practices?" she said, smiling, looking up at him with a kind of admiration that silenced his protests and set his heart alight. "The experience did not silence you, but opened your eyes to the atrocities committed against those poor creatures. You may not have realized it then, but I think subconsciously you knew, or else you would've laughed at me like all the others did." She then sighed and looked down, leaning her cheek against his arm again. "And I just repaid your kindness by ruining the evening."
"Ball is not over," he said, rising to his feet and gently pulling her with him. "We can go back if you want."
She smiled. "I'd like that very much, thank you."
Neither moved towards the entrance. They remained standing close to each other. Viktor raised their hands and kissed the back of hers again, smiling against her skin, and she reached up with her free hand to brush a stray lock of hair that fell over his forehead. Her fingers felt soft and warm against his skin as the tips caressed his cheekbone and her thumb brushed the corner of his mouth. He turned his head slightly and placed a kiss on her palm, and keeping a watch on any kind of disapproval on her face, he gently removed her hand from his cheek and leaned forward to claim her lips with his own.
"Snape's doing carriage checks!" a giggly feminine voice broke through their bubble. Viktor turned, struggling with all his might not to glare at the source of interruption, and he saw a disheveled pale girl with dark hair dragging behind her an equally disheveled, grinning boy. "I suggest you find another spot, because they looked like they were making their way back through here!"
"Thanks," muttered Hermione, looking down at her feet and blushing madly.
"Your headmaster was there, too," added the boy, more to Viktor than Hermione, as they both disappeared into the entrance.
Viktor groaned inwardly, glaring towards where the couple disappeared despite it being originally intended for Karkaroff. He was so close!
"I think we should go in," said Hermione after the couple's giggles faded indoors.
He nodded. He offered her his arm and she accepted.
"Karkaroff ruins everything," he said dejectedly once they were inside.
"I think you meant Snape," she said, laughing as she removed his cloak from her shoulders and passed it back to him.
"No, Karkaroff, I'm sure, but I am now thinking that he is maybe in love with your potions master."
"What made you say that?"
He shrugged. "He is always talking about him and saying nice things, and Karkaroff doesn't say nice things about anyone. He is also always looking for him, and at ball he was sitting next to pretty Arithmancy professor but he did not even dance with her, and now we find him looking into carriages with this Snape professor."
"I would agree with you but I think that Snape might be incapable of love," she said, grinning.
"So is Karkaroff, but look at them now. They will make horrible match, but at least they will leave us alone, yes?"
She laughed then, as genuinely as she did before he left her, and everything felt right again. He felt optimistic even though he didn't get to kiss her like he wanted to, because at least now he knows that she's beginning to see him as more than just her library companion and that's all he could ask for.
When they entered the ballroom again they found that the lights were dimmed and the music playing slowed. Not many couples remained on the dance floor, as most were already either somewhere outside trying to have a private moment or catching their breath on the tables and chairs or near the drinks and snack bars. Viktor thought that she might not want to dance in such close proximity to him, at least not in plain sight when there weren't as many dancers covering them, so he thought he'd take them to an empty table but she surprised him by leading him towards the dance floor.
They danced for the rest of the evening, hardly talking but comfortable in each other's embrace, and they remained that way until the music stopped and the orchestra started packing away their instruments to signal the end. It was then they noticed that those few who remained indoors were already headed outside.
They stayed quiet as they followed the rest, her hand still on his arm, until they reached the point where they were to part ways. He took her hands and kissed them one last time.
"You made me very happy tonight," he said, smiling down at her. "Thank you, Herm-own-ninny, for saying Yes."
"I had an amazing night myself," she said, smiling a little tiredly and blushing faintly. She then stepped into his arms and wrapped hers around his waist. "You were absolutely wonderful, Viktor. Thank you for taking me."
He wrapped his arms around her and held her closer, tucking her head under his chin and closing his eyes, savoring the moment as much as he could. He had always thought that, should he ever come to holding her as close as he did right now, his heart would be breaking a few ribs in an attempt to escape, but his nerves were not in their normal frantic state whenever she looks his way or smiles nor were they as calm as they'd normally be when he's busy doing some mundane everyday chore. He felt at peace, comforted more so than he ever was when flying, and nothing's ever felt like home before and he never wants to let her go.
"Herm-own-ninny," he said, pulling back a little to look at her face. "Can I… can I see you again? After tonight, I would like to see you again if possible."
"Of course, Viktor," she said, smiling warmly. "You know where to find me. You don't need an excuse to come talk to me, you're more than welcome to join me if you ever feel like it."
"Thank you," he said, brushing a few stray curls from her face before bending down and placing a kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight, Herm-own-ninny."
"Goodnight, Viktor."
A/N: See you next year :) Happy Holidays!
