Author's Note:

The surgery went well! Cuddling my baby now and writing more scenes for these next few chapters.

Cheers!


HER MR. ROCHESTER

The next hour was a harrowing one for Harry and Ron both.

The boys gave the skull to the adults, and witnesses around them described what happened after the skull cracked...well, Ron's skull.

Because of the Death Eater, everyone in the village was put on high alert and a town-wide curfew was put in place. The Hogwarts students were all rounded up and escorted back to the castle, just an hour earlier than normal.

Professor Jones helped guide them and the other students back to the castle, along with Kingsley Shacklebolt and another Auror. Harry peered through the crowds, trying to find Hermione to give her the wand back, but she wasn't to be found.

"You don't think something happened, do you?" said Ron, fear growing ever-present.

Harry could tell that Ron's worry for Hermione was enough to clear out any residual anger he had for Harry abandoning him. The fear and the adrenaline from the situation died down and Ron was much more back to his old self.

Harry shook his head and used the consoling voice he used all too much when he was trying not to worry. "She's with Krum. She'll be okay. We'll just meet her back up at the castle. She's probably already there, you know. Worrying herself sick over what happened to you, I'll bet."

Ron nodded, looking less queasy, and Harry hoped he was all right.

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

Ron shook his head, but his footsteps were much slower than before, and his face far whiter. The energy it took to take such a long walk after what he had been through was clearly exhausting him.

They got to the Great Hall for dinner with no other mishap though, and the hullabaloo continued. Three times the amount of Order members and Aurors were staking the place out, no doubt akin to the death threat Ron had got.

Ron in particular was being shadowed by two surly Auror guards, which everyone took noticed. Harry was just relieved, as they sat down to eat their food, that they stayed near the double doors, just looking into the room.

"It's all for nothing though," muttered Ron, staring out the windows in the Great Hall. "Damn bastard is long gone."

Savagely, his knife sliced through his roast, and he shoved the not-so-small piece in his mouth.

Ginny watched him, revolted, and he made a face at her.

Harry was more forgiving, however. Watching Ron hold up that shield for that long...it was impressive, really. And it seemed to take a lot out of him. Harry kept watching him for signs of fainting again, but getting some food in him seemed to help Ron more than anything.

At least it was one comfort. Hermione still was off with Krum. And Dumbleodre wasn't there for Harry to talk to him about Ron and Hermione. And none of the teachers were even at the staff table.

Harry stared up at the missing head teachers in dismay. They were all gone. All the teachers he could have told about Voldemort being after his best friends. Even Snape, the bloody git.

Damn, why didn't I tell Dumbledore when I had the chance?

And now that the double-wanded Death Eater had made another appearance, delivering a death threat no less to up the ante, Harry feared what he would do next. Ron was now in twice the amount of danger he'd been in before.

Before Harry could lose himself in the worry again, however, something halted him in his tracks.

A large, half-giant something.

Hagrid strode into the Great Hall, booming, "Quiet! Quiet! I have some news! Summat's happened!

The talking of hundreds of students slowed down, but not enough.

"QUUUIIIIET!"


Finally, they were safe...safe inside the castle wards. Safe on the grounds. Safe within the gates.

Hermione and Viktor slowed down, relieved beyond measure, and Hermione could see the warmly-lit windows from the Great Hall shining forth like a beacon, drawing them near.

"I think ve are safe now. Are you okay? Her-mione? Are you all right?" he said, voice deep in worry, as they walked.

Turning to face him, Hermione was taken aback by how close their faces were, almost touching. Her body was flush up against his and a fire was burning so fiercely in her right now…

The concern for her on his face was evident in his eyes, and all she wanted to do right now was to kiss him.

Kiss him...yes...kiss him...

"Yes...thank you…" she breathed, eyes flitting from his eyes to his mouth.

Viktor leaned in...his mouth almost touching hers...but at the very last second, she lost her courage and turned her head to the side, where he kissed her cheek.

Embarrased, Hermione's cheeks flamed red. "I'm sorry, it's just…"

"No, it's my fault," he apologized.

Seeing her discomfort, Viktor sought to relieve her.

"I see you got my gift for your birthday," he said, eyeing her necklace.

She nodded, and smiled. "It's lovely. I never got to thank you for it."

"It vos nothing," he said, waiving her compliment aside, and reaching over to finger her necklace. "It looks...most admirable on you..."

"It—it wasn't nothing. It makes me wonder what I can give you for your birthday in November," she babbled, keen on transferring the subject back to him.

He smiled at her, dark eyes earnest. "I know vot I vant..."

She reddened under his stare, feeling his fingertips graze against her breastbone as he picked up the chain. She was suddenly aware of a tear in her blouse. Greyback must have snagged it with his claws, and she saw how low her button-up blouse went. It was now nowhere near going up to the collar like her dad always told her to keep it.

And then Viktor's gaze hardened looking down at her chest, and she realized with horror what he could now see.

"But vot is—"

"No, don't—"

His fingers made her shirt go down farther over her breastbone, exposing the skin between her breasts.

Hermione's face flushed red and she shrunk back under his grasp and piercing eyes, which were suddenly dark—

"Vot happened to you, Her-mione?" Viktor asked, aghast.

Hermione drew back from the man in front of her in alarm.

She held up the top of her blouse with her hands, embarrassment and self-consciousness invading her, as she tried to cover up her horrible scar.

With trepidation, she looked up at Viktor.

"It happened when D-Dolohov cursed me. In June. I don't feel the after-effects anymore, but the Healers all say that scar won't go away. Please, Viktor, just let it go. It's n-nothing," she stumbled over her words, very aware of his piercing stare.

The hurt in his eyes was indisputable.

"I vould never judge you for something like that, Her-mione," Viktor said, stepping closer, hands up in surrender. "That man is horrible for doing that to you...you must haff been very brave…and you are beautiful still..."

Hermione's eyes widened as he leaned in again. They were stopped under an archway in the courtyard, hidden from the Great Hall windows. Her desire for him kept growing and growing, and she found she could no longer restrain the warm, fuzzily pink aura clouding her brain…

Nor did she want to.

Her lips pressed against his in earnest this time. No longer blushing, no longer feeling embarassed that she was giving in to his attraction. Kissing back with a fervor that went beyond hers, Viktor nevertheless was considerate. In his kissing, in his holding her, how his arms circled up and around her, his fingers exploring, his tongue pressing, pulling her in closer and closer.

Hermione finally broke away from Viktor's kiss.

She was more than ready for that conversation they needed to have. "Viktor—I need to tell you something—"

He nodded, brushing her small rejection aside. "I believe you are right."

"Yes," she said, looking up and smoothing her skirt down. "You're a teacher here now."

"Actually...I'm referee. No 'professor' in front of my name. So the same rules don't quite apply. You are of age, for one thing. And...you are not my student," he said, then hurried on once he realized how that sounded. "But please do not mistake my advances as calculated ones. The vine has gone to my head, I am thinking. I do not vish to make you uncomfortable—"

"You don't!" she said. "It's me. It's just that I..."

Around them, raindrops began falling from roof tile to cobblestone, leaving their heads untouched. The sun had set, it was rather dark. It was then that she noticed how late it was.

"Oh, I really do need to be getting back," she said, turning away. The pink aura whined in her ears at the loss of his close contact. "This was a mistake..."

"Don't," he said, hurt. His arm reached out and grabbed her wrist, jerking her backwards. "Please...I must to tell you how much you are in meaning to me. I came to Hogvarts for you and I must know vot I am to you?"

Hermione bit her lip, and turned around to face him. "Oh, Viktor, you are a great friend. You're kind and you're loyal and you're such a gentleman, but..."

"There...is another?" He guessed.

"Yes," she said, wincing. "There's someone else."

His face darkened. "Veasley?"

The jealousy in his voice was palpable. Hermione turned from him, guilty. But she couldn't end the conversation this way.

"Look, it doesn't matter," she said, turning back to him. "The point is, I can't develop a relationship with you when I have feelings for someone else. It wouldn't be fair to you, nor would it be fair to him."

He studied her. "And he is in knowing of your feelings?"

She drew in a breath, but couldn't tear her eyes away from his. Slowly, she sighed and shook her head.

"Tell him," Viktor implored. "Please. And if he feels the same vay, I vill back avay."

"And...if he doesn't?" she asked him.

He looked down at her. "Then there is reason for you and me. If you vill still haff me..."

She smiled, and kissed his cheek. "Oh, thank you, Viktor! I am sorry...really..."

Viktor held her tightly, burying his face in her hair. They held each other for a moment longer, until he broke away.

He grabbed her hand and they sloshed through the rainy puddles until they got to Hogwarts' doors. They could both see through the higher windows that the entire school was sitting down to dinner, carefree conversations splitting the night, unaware that there was something going on outside at all.

"Thank you, Viktor," she said again as they paused at the bottom of the outside steps. "Thank you for being so great and understanding. And for saving me."

He held her hand briefly. "It vas my pleasure. You vill make him very happy."

On impulse, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek that had nothing to do with the dim pink cloud in her brain that was fading away.

The pink cloud…

Hermione's eyes widened as she finally realized what it meant. As the fuzziness left her brain, Hermione was suddenly filled with clarity.

It was a love potion.

She had been drugged.

Immediately, Hermione started pulling away, but Viktor held her fast, eyes wide and innocent, confused.

"Her-mione, vhat—"

"You drugged me. That elfwine...there was a love potion in it...that was why...why…"

"Vhat? A love potion? Her-mione, I vould never…"

"Then where did you get that bottle from?" Hermione hissed, more aghast than she was furious.

"D-Draco Malfoy. He gave it to me as a gift. I-I didn't know...the seal vasn't broken on it, I svear. He sent it to me as a gift. I didn't know…"

Hermione knew at once he was telling the truth, and she remembered all too well the spilt Amortentia that drenched her in Potions class...the secretive look in Malfoy's eye as he hid some…

Did he steal her wand too?

The worry in Viktor's eyes broke through her thoughts of the vile Slytherin and immediately she felt remorse for her actions in accusing Viktor...especially after he saved her life.

"Sshh, it's all right, Viktor...I believe you...I'm sorry, that was rather cruel of me to accuse you like that when I know you could never do something as horrendous as that…"

He nodded, but the hurt there still remained, and Hermione felt horrible.

She smiled sadly. "I really am sorry. Please forgive me? It must have been Malfoy."

Viktor nodded, forgiveness already in his eyes. "I truly am sorry for the part I haff played, my Her-mione. Even if it vas unknovingly. How can I make it up to you?"

Hermione's finger pressed on his lips to shush him. She simply said, "Just tell me good night."

Viktor grinned, a boyish, youthful smile, and Hermione fell in love with him a little bit more. "Good night, my Her-mione."

"Good night...Viktor."

Hermione started up the stairs and put a hand on one of the large, iron-wrought doorknobs. She turned around and saw that Viktor was about to walk back down the path and go to his cabin when he turned around as well.

"Her-mione?" he called.

"Yes?" she said, and paused in opening the door.

"I...haff been to many places for Quidditch. I haff played against many countries, and haff done many things. I haff even met many vitches, the great beauties of these countries their men boast about. And yet..." he stopped. "You, my Her-mione, are the most beautiful of them all."

Hermione stared at him speechlessly as he turned around and walked down the path, into the mist, into the rain, and into the darkness.

"What am I doing?" she whispered.

How long she stood there, she didn't know. All she knew was that Ronald Weasley, her best friend and schoolgirl crush for three years, was standing just inside the door, ignorantly unaware of her feelings. She had no idea if he could ever love her back—would ever love her back, even—while the man that had just confessed his love for her, who had just told her he would be there for her even if she were to love another, who had even gone so far as to say that she—Hermione Jean Granger, Miss Know-It-All—was the most beautiful witch in the world...had just walked away.

Her heart was completely torn in two.

I could love Viktor, she realized for the first time. I really could love him. I could open my heart to him, I could have a future with him, I could become the wife of an international Quidditch player, I could become a part of his family...

But she cringed at the word 'family', seeing instead the Weasleys with all their quirks and red hair and children. She just couldn't imagine not seeing them every summer, not visiting the Burrow every Christmas, not getting presents from them. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley wanted her to be a part of their family so much...she was, in many ways, Mrs. Weasley's second daughter and Ginny's older sister. Even when she had first met them she knew that she always wanted to be a part of their family. Could she give that away?

I have to tell Ron. I have to. I have to know whether there can ever be anything between us. Or everything I'm feeling for Viktor will be uselessly thrown away.

She took a deep breath, and opened the door.

The atmosphere in the entrance hall was so entirely different than outside that she was glad she took that extra breath. Her eyes blinked to get used to the bright lights and her ears dimmed a bit to get used to the sound.

At once, a rush of noise greeted her as dozens of students flooded out of the Great Hall. Many teenagers were tossing a Fanged Frisbee to each other, another group were all singing lustily at the tops of their lungs, something very reminiscent of "Weasley is our King". She furrowed her brow.

"Hermione—there you are—!"

Harry nudged his way towards her. He was grinning. "Did you hear what happened? Oh, but you'll never guess what happened to him in Hogsmeade, Hermione...Ron was attacked—"

"He was what—" she gasped.

"But he's all right! He cast a very good shield—dunno how, I've never even heard of it—" Harry said, and then he told her all about it as quickly and loudly as he could in the din. "Oh, and here is your wand!"

Hermione was dumbfounded. Worry for Ron was ever-present, and a growing feeling of dread gnawed the pit of her stomach. She frantically searched for him in the growing crowd.

Just then, Ginny came over, and Hermione hugged her tight, grateful for her girl best friend.

"I can't believe it!" said Hermione. "I'm so glad your brother is all right, Ginny. But wait till I tell you two what happened—"

"Hermione, why'd you missed dinner?" said Harry.

"Yeah, where were you?" asked Ginny, suspiciously. "Oh, have you heard the news?"

"What news?" she said, confused, searching the crowd for Ron. Gratefully she pocketed her missing wand, determined not to ever let it get stolen again. Now to just find Crookshanks...

"Hagrid's just told us," Harry said, grinning. "There was a battle at Gringotts—Death Eaters tried to break in. But they were all caught! Mr. Weasley was doing some shopping, and he—well, he got them all! Ten Death Eaters sent to Azkaban because of him!"

"But—Harry, that's wonderful!" she said, grinning.

"I know...Ron's ecstatic, he's over there now, telling everyone how his dad did it..."

Harry kept talking, but Hermione was no longer paying attention. She had caught sight of Ron. He was at the bottom of the staircase, talking jovially to a number of seventh-years. She started pushing her way towards him, eyes glued to him.

She was going to do it—now was the best time—

But in front of her eyes, Hermione saw Lavender Brown got there first.

Instead of Hermione, it was Lavender who threw her arms around Ron. He was all too ecstatic. Their lips found each other's and, right in front of Hermione, they started making out.

At once, catcalls and wolf-howls split the air as every eye in the entrance hall turned to look. Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away as Ron's hands inched lower down Lavender's back, as her roommate tousled her best friend's hair in her effort to obtain more of him in that one kiss. Their bodies shoved against each other, their lips locked, eyes closed—

And then, of a sudden, Ron opened his eyes and paused, mid-kiss, as he saw Hermione behind Lavender.

For one heart-breaking second, they stared at each other. Hermione couldn't read the look she saw in his eyes, but also could not mask the stunned expression she had in her own.

Before either of them could react, Colin Creevey walked up right next to her, raised his famed Muggle camera and took a picture of Ron and Lavender. The flash went off, Ron blinked, and Hermione came to her senses.

The flash kept going off in her mind's eye as she turned around and fled.

The crowd proved to be no obstacle for her this time—they simply parted.

She couldn't hear the whistles and jeering and shouting anymore.

She could barely make out Ginny's white face or her gasp as she saw Hermione running away.

She hardly heard Harry say her name as she moved past him.

She simply opened the great double doors, and took off into the growing darkness.

Out into the night.


Harry would never in his life forget the look of heartwrenching grief that he saw on Hermione's face as she fled past him.

"Oh no," he heard Ginny whisper in dismay. "How could he do that to her…"

"He didn't see her," said Harry, trying to stand up for his best friend. "He didn't know."

"She was going to tell him, wasn't she?"

"Yes...I do believe she was…"

"Well, shite."


Hermione ran through the pouring rain, down the path she had just come up. She thought she would be hurt, seeing that kiss. She thought she would be furious or crying or devastated. But the rain falling on her didn't feel cold at all.

She was numb. And one name kept echoing in her mind.

Viktor.

She saw him long before she realized it was him. He was walking back to his cabin beside the beech tree that she now thought of as hers, Harry's, and Ron's. His shoulders were hunched over, his dark cloak hung on him limply, his hands were shoved in his pockets...and he was staring down at the puddles beneath his feet as the raindrops hit the surface of the water. He cut quite the miserable, daunting figure...

But to her, he was beautiful.

He was her Heathcliff, her Mr. Rochester, her Mr. Darcy.

Her Viktor.

"Viktor!" she cried, running up to him. "Viktor!"

He turned around suddenly, and saw her standing there under the beech tree, sopping wet.

"Her-mione! But it is raining—you're shivering—"

"Did you mean it?" she asked, looking up at him. "Did you mean what you said?"

There was a pause as he slowly walked towards her. "I meant every vord," he said strongly.

"Then, yes," she whispered.

His dark eyes slowly glimmered as he realized what she meant.

"Are you sure?" he said.

"Y-yes," she said, faltering as Ron's eyes suddenly appeared in front of her. She replaced this image with the one she now vividly had of him kissing Lavender. Her voice grew stronger. "I'm positive."

Viktor smiled, and took her face in his hands, a look she couldn't place in his black eyes. "I vill make you very happy, my Her-mione. You vill not regret this."

She nodded. "I know."

And so it was that Viktor Krum lowered his head to kiss her. His lips were soft and soundless, reminding her very much of the quiet rain falling on them now, and she melted in his arms.

He could feel her embracing him, giving in to him, igniting this sudden burst of passion within them. And all at once, his lips opened up, his tongue entered her mouth, their bodies started touching, their skin started tingling...

And Hermione Jean Granger was not afraid.