Changes were made to the end of chapter 9.
Please review the previous chapter before continuing the following.
Hello everyone! I'm alive! I apologize profusely for the extended time away as well as taking down the previous chapter 10. There was too much information that needed to be dealt with and I felt this had to be added before I continue with the start of Hermione's classes. As for the time away, I believe I wrote 20,000 words just for this one chapter. I was not happy with each outcome to say the least...
Thank you all so much for your continued support, it makes me so honored and happy beyond belief when there are many of you still following this progess before it has the stamp of completion. You all kept me pushing to finish this and I am so grateful for that.
As said above, please read the last chapter. About a month ago I changed the ending to a more elaborate one that will make the beginning of this chapter make much more sense.
Happy reading (:
"What do you mean I can't see him?!" I raged in front of the infirmary, two seconds too late as Sebastian completely disappeared from view at the shut of the door.
Mikhail stood firm. "I mean, miss Granger, that this is unpredictable magic we are meddling with, and you interfering could cost him his life." He snapped back, his hand releasing the door knob that he just pulled shut.
"Interfering?" I scoffed. "Please tell me how my willingness to help is interfering?"
Mikhail's eyes lowered in annoyance under thick, greying brows. "Miss Granger-"
"I was offered some of the most elite positions at the ministry I could've taken straight out of Hogwarts or even before! I tended to major wounds without even a partial hospice setting on the run from death eaters. I worked in the infirmary for nearly a full year taking care of the dying alongside some of St Mungos most qualified mediwitches and wizards. I have overcome more odd magics within a few years than anyone could have in a life time and have had multiple life threatening situations I overcame because of my fluent knowledge in nearly every category you could possibly name. Now let me through!"
"That's enough." Mikhail was final in his tone, swiping the length of his arm through the air as if to dismiss everything I said. "You can't possibly understand this form of magic and that overly cocky attitude will definitely be detrimental in my aid. Now, I have a patient to attend to, or are you going to keep me from going to him?"
I stood silent, staring him down while holding back every retort in my mind that was desperately fighting to get out. Taking in ragged breaths, I begun counting to 10. By the count of 4, Mikhail had swung open the door and disappeared inside with a slam of the oak.
The ends of my hair crackled slightly from the rude gesture, yet as soon as those 10 seconds were up, the temptation to bombarda the door and release my wrath was minimized.
While I still held respect for the mediwizard who took care of me when I was admitted, at the present moment I was ready to hex the life out of him...
Sighing in self-defeat, I rubbed my face, uncaring of the makeup Gabri adorned me with, while hoping to Godrick that Sebastian made a swift recovery.
I wasn't about to contemplate what that possibly could do to me if he did recover... Even as much as my gut clenched and mind screamed for my life.
They called it Preminavane. Only one could bare the ring...
Shaking my head, I cleared the thought. No, I definitely wouldn't think of myself right now. Not when my friend was on the other side of the door, possibly dying.
Yet I needed answers about other things... Looking down at my hand, the golden rings gem still hadn't solidified.
Turning away from the infirmary door, I faced the two forms who were standing behind me quietly, meant to escort me for the time being.
Burke met my eye with a certain stoic look that never changed, even after my outburst that I was beginning to feel embarrassed about. Stubbornly yelling at the mediwizard wasn't the best thing I could've done with the situation, but at least I had the excuse that I was pretty much just handed a key to the damn school. A key that decides to kill off its last barer. I think I'm definitely allowed to freak out a bit.
My other escort was currently clenching his hands together behind his back by the look of his strained forearms. Viktor watched me with a slight open expression, compared to Burkes completely masked face, examining me like I was a whole new person compared to an hour ago.
I attempted to lift a corner of my mouth for him in reassurance that I was still sane... still the Hermione he knew. Yet I didn't even feel confident about it myself. Not when tonight's events brought out the side he never saw in me. And not when I also saw this new, intriguing man Viktor grew into. While we may have kept our core values, there was no denying that the years transformed us both into different people. It just took awhile for me to realize it. Perhaps I was looking too much for his former qualities that emerged when I should be focused on what has changed inside him. What he's become. Yet something deep down inside me feared that I might not like it...
Adverting my gaze with a troubled breath, I watched the candles lining the hall, flickering like a beckoning to my next intended destination.
The slam of the heavy door behind us shook the walls of Igor Karkaroff's office and gave me a fright along with my spiked nerves.
While Viktor had left to attend to the students, Burke had accompanied me with a very less-than-pleased-about-it demeanor.
As I sat down in the adjacent chair to Karkaroff's, he poured two glasses of whiskey, then took the commanders chair himself, swinging his legs over the side in a casual display while a polar opposite Karkaroff begun pacing frantically, stomping around and angrily muttering even worse than I had earlier.
"Igor! Come now, don't wear the floors out." Burke reprimanded, holding out the crystal glass once again to Karkaroff who continued to shake his head while angrily marching.
The Dark Arts professor across from me sighed dramatically. "Don't mind him, Miss Granger." He then slid the glass of untouched whiskey before me. "Here. It might as well be put to good use if the idiot man behind me won't appreciate a good year."
I winced at the offer, recalling the taste of hard liquor back at the pub with Viktor... If anything I should've been revolted by the smell alone, yet a force drove my hands to clutch the base, taking a sip that was just as bad as last time. Holding my breath as if it would ease the taste and pain, I took two more small gulps before shoving it away.
"What did you mean when you said Sebastian is already dead?" I asked after clearing my throat from the sting. Many questions attacked my mind like starving crows, yet that particular one had perplexed me the most.
Burke shook his head, letting out a breath. "That's for another time. Preferably when you're more aquatinted with our traditions and school rules."
Karkaroff grumbled a barley audible agreement similar to a gorilla before continuing his pace.
"What I can discuss with you is that ring." Burke motioned, looking slightly intrigued in contrast to his normal stony and careless demeanor. "That is a rarity that only one or two people will ever bare within a century. Though Sebastian should have fallen to his death by your replacement just as Vulchanova did when Munter cursed the line, it will be interesting to see if he will continue to hold the onyx. Which could be why that ring of yours is still taking its time with setting."
"So... It could still possibly change?" I questioned, biting back the millions of questions I'd need to ask Sebastian if he really did wake from the infirmary... My heart dropped at the thought of him possibly dying because of me.
He looked thoughtful as he considered his next words. "It's very unlikely. The school itself chooses its predecessor and it's students houses. You've already peeked Durmstrangs interest and once you've burdened a ring, there's normally no going back."
I raised a skeptic brow. "Normally?"
"Yes, normally. It's possible for students houses to change, but only after drastic, life changing circumstances that causes a need for them to change dorms and nearby peers. The school is forgiving and flexible before its students, but I'm afraid you're permanently in this situation unless you change Durmstrangs metaphorical 'mind' about you."
An inanimate stone building... Having control... Over my life... I groaned audibly as suddenly a daunting thought of spending the rest of my years here in Norway plagued my mind... Tied to something I never asked for.
"No, there has to be another way." I almost pleaded. "Why can't Headmaster Karkaroff take over? He's already in charge!"
Burke shook his head, glancing briefly over his shoulder at the man. "Igor is a... Steward, if you will. He technically acts as the headmaster and controls the student body by ministry decree, but Durmstrang does not respond to him like your past Headmaster Dumbledore had with Hogwarts. Everything involving the school itself must now be run by you or it will not function as intended, even as much as we've tried in the past."
I started to feel sick. Yet... "Surely Sebastian can still wield his own ring when he wakes?" I suggested.
Burke shrugged composedly. "We'll find out."
Suddenly Karkaroff stopped in his steps as if he finally caught wind of our conversation, reaching across the table to grab the entire bottle of whiskey instead of a glass. "Ve can also hope."
He chugged a portion before wiping his mouth and falling into the nearest chair at the bar. "Sebastian has all the ropes already. Handing them off in the middle of dealing vith the Canadian twinkle toes of magic? Ve might as vell tie my hands behind my back now!" His eyes shifted toward Burke, his large ring filed hands gesturing with him as he spoke. "Dimetrius vill surely come through, but not without the result of a long string of court dates and visitors from the ministry."
Dimetrius... Krum...?
Burke scoffed. "Come now, we mustn't draw any conclusions. Involving Dimetrius will only bring enemies and put more power in his hands. We need only show Felix that Miss Granger is well and capable of handling meager tasks just as Sebastian had." Burke advised. "And according to her records, she will be more than capable."
Karkaroff responded with a sigh, yet after a moment, nodded in agreement. "Yes, she's capable alright. I just hope the ministry vill overlook the fact that she's a muggle born girl."
I only felt a bit offended by the truth, yet silently took that into consideration if it came down to it...
"She also needs proper knowledge and training." Burke added, glancing toward me in a calculative manner.
"What can I do?" I asked, wanting to sound on board for the sake of the thousands of students and staff who rely on the school, when in reality, my entire being was ready to make a run for it.
"For now?" Karkaroff quietly considered my question. "Prepare your classes. Dimetrius can at least keep the ministry in the blind vhile ve vork... Ve owe you at least a veek to get acquainted vith your new surroundings and professors. In the meantime, I advise you not to listen to any gut instincts you may suddenly have... It vould also be unwise to remove the ring until it's completely set in the onyx stone." He warned.
I nodded in understanding, glancing down at the swirling black smoke within the gem, like poison through water. Yet what could a ring possibly do?
Karkaroff sighed. "I think that's enough for one night..." He then turned. "William, I need you to take a trip to the ministry and procure Vulchanova's ring... Ve'll have to sort her the old fashioned vay."
A repeated pounding noise filled the air of the lowest floor in Durmstrang, echoing in the vaulted combat room repeatedly from below.
"Vhat an odd day." Natalia Valentinov noted in a drab tone, sitting atop the tallest mat in the room, nearly a story high, pointing her new shoes as she swung golden and sculpted legs.
Glancing away from the stiletto beauties, her mouth puckered into a pout as Viktor ignored her comment, continuously impacting the large red sand bag in front of him with wrapped hands.
While normally watching him in action was a pleasure in itself, his forceful punches and ragged breathing was making him appear to be less than his masterfully composed self. Everything about his slack form and scrappy footwork told her that his mind was elsewhere. Replacing his proud, proper form with instinct and brute force.
Somethings got him riled... She thought, smoothing out her pleated skirt before standing swiftly, looking down at the height as if it were nothing. In one motion, she leaped from the platform in a risky manner, catching the hanging rope that swung a yard away from where she had stood.
Lowering herself down a few feet, she managed a safe height before letting go completely, landing on her feet with total ease, only glancing down to make sure her heels survived.
"Are you still upset about me being here?" She asked in their native tongue, already knowing the answer. Viktor was never one to openly confess his true thoughts about her, but ever since they were kids, she knew he merely tolerated her for the sake of their family's ties.
The way he ignored her most of their lives outside of public was upsetting to say the least. For years after the age of 14, she doted upon him, dressing herself in the best robes her father could pay for to gain his interest, yet the only time he ever acknowledged her effort was when she once wore shoes with the scales of his favorite dragon by coincidence. Yet it wasn't about how they looked on her, but rather a lesson on the beasts flying capability, being one of the fastest in the world, and how he wished she wouldn't buy from poachers.
Nothing really changed over the years.
Though this evening he seemed even more agitated than usual. For once it was more than just herself causing a slight rile from him... Though she was unsure of what it could be.
"You are free to do as you like, miss Valentinov." He simply muttered, his large arm retreating before hitting his target once again, making the heavy bag fly.
She rolled her eyes at the formality. It was no use getting him to call her by her first name though, and she wasn't about to ask once again that he call her Natalia.
Instead, she picked up one of the large staffs sitting in a neat row by her feet, weighing it in her hand with a grin suited for a cat. "Quit beating up the inanimate bag and teach me to spar, Professor Krum." She suggested playfully, hitting him with the end of the staff in a soft blow.
He sighed, letting her whack him with the wooden staff once more before catching the end swiftly in his large hand.
"You're already proficient in sparring." He replied, shutting down her attempt to get him to interact with her.
A red manicured hand went to her hip. "I haven't had any practice since Ivano was in town. I'm rusty." She pleaded in a fake innocence, holding in a smile as he reacted with a scowl to her mention of his uncle.
"Vhen vas that?" He asked with a slight edge to his voice.
She shrugged nonchalantly. "Three months ago I believe. He asked about you, you know." Her cat eyes glanced up in gleeful slits.
Suddenly, like a viper to its prey, his arm struck the boxing bag with power, causing the chain to rattle harshly.
Her tongue clicked as her petite frame leaned against the staff she held in her right hand. "Still feel that way, huh?" Her thoughts went back a year or two for a brief moment, recalling the last time she saw Viktor with his father Dimetrius and uncle Ivano. The brothers were beaming with Viktor's previous success, yet Viktor on the other hand... Despite everything... "They're still family you know..." she reminded him with a slight hope he would finally see things their way for even a second.
Viktor suddenly stopped his swinging, staring ahead with clouded eyes for a brief moment before fluidly taking off the black wraps around his fists. "Feel free to stay as long as you like." He threw his equipment to the floor. "Lock up after you're done." He bit out, turning his back in a fluid manner.
She sighed, feeling a slight twinge of guilt for pushing his buttons as her gold eyes followed him as he moved swiftly into his office, only to pick up his cloak that draped over his revealing black tank top and sweat pants. Without so much as another glance her way, he ascended the stairs, leaving her standing there until the sound of the heavy door slamming announced his leave.
Ivano will not be pleased with my report...
Viktor stood in front of his classroom door for a brief moment, rubbing his temples as if he could clear his mind of the entire day.
Although it hadn't been Valentinov that truly bothered him, he couldn't stand a moment more with her. If only Karkaroff would have listened to him when he was choosing the newest transfiguration professor...
Taking in a slow breath, he shook the thought then begun to tread back to his room for a much needed nights rest. That is, until he heard the faintest sound in a distant hall.
Oh laĭna... what now? He swore under his breath, already regretting his decision to investigate. Whatever boy was out of bed at this hour would get to clean the entire gym if he so much as keeps him from another minute of rest.
Especially if it were anyone from his quidditch teams...
Taking brisk yet silent paces, Viktor rounded corners with a swift speed, trying to find whomever was awake before they could get away with a misdeed or flee away from punishment.
Finally finding the noise, he crept up behind what appeared to be a rather young boy, cloaked and staggering in the hall. A trailing scent of whiskey behind him.
Viktor shook his head in disbelief. Definitely warrants a full afternoon of both scrubbing the mats and maybe a lap around the lake... if he was lucky.
As soon as he was a good pace or two away, suddenly the boy turned, a low song on his mouth as he did a clumsy, humorous circle.
With a mighty hiccup and a near stumble, the hood slid down the students head and wild hair peeked out from underneath in long brown curls.
Viktor skidded to a halt as they turned round once more, finally realizing this was no student of his stumbling around in the halls...
Glazed over chestnut brown eyes, as warm as summer, first focused on Viktor's feet before gazing all the way up to meet his full stare. Her cheeks, already tinged peek from the chilled halls and booze, became a tinge darker as her full lips stopped playing the little song she sung to herself.
His heart warmed at how loose her hair was, like it used to be when he first laid eyes on her. Strands hung high in the air and over her cheeks as a goofy smile played on her face.
"Shhh." She whispered, breaking the scilence, taking wobbly steps toward him with a finger on her lips. "They're trying to find me."
Viktor blinked, attempting to move his thoughts from the way she suddenly braced herself against him for support. The tantalizing scent of honey and whiskey radiated off her along with a warmth even through their coats.
"Who's trying to find you?" Viktor asked, extremely confused and concerned at the sight of her intoxicated. It wasn't like Hermione to have been drinking... or at least he thought.
"They were told to take me back to my room, but I don't like the small one right now. Tried to take away my cloak and put me in bed." She muttered something incoherent then shook her head.
Viktor frowned. "The small one?"
"Shhhh..." she said, suddenly listening to the silent halls.
If had she really heard anything, either he was way too preoccupied with keeping her from falling or stumbling some more in the hall, or her hearing was superhuman because he hadn't noticed a single sound. Between the two of them, he would've caught the first hint of noise even if she were sober and fully focused. After another moment of intense scilence, she hiccuped loudly and seemed to have forgotten what she was listening for. Instead, her interest shifted. Heavy eyes lifted, searching the depths of his own, taking away the very air from his lungs before her thick lashes lowered.
"You changed." She murmured, suddenly reaching out a hand, taking a fist full of his cloak. He followed her gaze to his training gear, somehow wishing he wore something a little nicer. "Why aren't you a seeker?" She asked, appearing to be slightly saddened by the thought.
His jaw set at the unexpected question... the one that burdened him the most. "It's unimportant. I don't think you'll want to hear-"
"Tell me." She cut in. Her tone demanding.
Viktor breathed in. He hadn't told a single soul what had happened. Even the journalists that stalked him couldn't get the information. Even his mother.
He focused on her waiting gaze. Something about her unwavering curiosity both scared and intrigued him. She would give all the journalists he ever met a run for their money. And so what if he told her? She would only forget I'm the morning.
His gaze set on the stone ground as he recalled one of the many past letters he turned to ash. All from the same man.
"Around two years ago my father asked me to stand by his side in his business. He did not imagine I vould decline... thought it would be an honor I looked forward to. So in order to get me to reconsider, he destroyed my teams chances. Used his influence and threatened all sponsors and bets. I decided to vithdraw my title for the sake of my mates. He vouldn't of had mercy for any of them as long as I held my ground."
A memory of his last game haunted his thoughts. He had won the game, he was so sure of it. The snitch lay in his hand, just as golden and glorious as every time he caught it. Yet it hadn't been them who took home the real gold... his father saw to that. Along with a few unexplained injuries and a missing coach no more than a day later...
Hermione's mouth puckered into a pout. "Awful." She muttered, suddenly wrapping both her arms around his torso in a firm squeeze, catching him in surprise. "You were a good seeker..." She sighed against his chest with a heavy heart. "I could have been good at something too..."
His entire being once again fell at the thought of her newest fate. The idea of her being confined to the dreary castle, perhaps even longer than he would be, troubled him immensly. Returning her embrace, he looked down upon Hermione, deciding he would use any amount of power he still had to help her leave this place after she finished off the school year. If he wasn't able to change his own destiny, he would do so for a friend.
His brow instantly furrowed. Friend...
She sighed into his arms, quickly letting herself disappear into both his cloak and her own hair as the minutes ticked by.
It wasn't long until her form begun to slouch, resting further into him as her breathing became longer and even. Yet her arms remained locked around him without any falter.
Smiling down at the sleepy little drunk, he gently scooped her up with ease, her slender arms moving from his waist to wrap around his neck as her heavy head fell against his shoulder.
No... he sighed with a conflicted heart... not a friend. Nothing beyond that either. He wouldn't allow her to become that close to him again. Not when there were eyes on him everywhere. Empty threats toward him were merely bothersome, but if anyone targeted her...
His lips set into a straight line. He wouldn't be so careless anymore. Not when she held power now.
Not when she was, as of today, officially his student.
Carrying her back to her room in a slow pace, he quietly placed her down under her sheets, trying his best not to wake the two on the other bed. Harry and Miss Delacour were spread out sideways, still in their clothes in contorted positions. As if they fell asleep waiting for her return.
The small one... Viktor nearly chuckled aloud as he realized she had meant Miss Delacour. They must had given up on finding her and waited here instead. He was glad she had two people who cared for her with her at least. She would be in good hands without him. Yet he couldn't help but linger a moment more.
His eyes unwillingly glinted at her slumbering form with careful, hidden thoughts. A long calloused hand reached down, moving a spindly curl that crossed her brow away from her eyes, admiring the gentle plains of her face that became sculpted over the years along with a few knicks and scars atop her cheek bone and chin.
It wasn't long until he forced his demeanor back into stoic normalcy, turning away from the girl with a near anger that welled within him for a million reasons he couldn't think about without going slightly mad. His next intention was to reach the door without another thought on the girl, yet he mistakingly looked back, getting the slightest glimpse from the corner of his level gaze of her curling up with his jacket he leant her the prior night, before shutting down completely, closing the door behind him.
*takes in a deep breath* oh my Salazar Slitherin, that was a difficult chapter to write.
Lend me your thoughts! xo