I just want to say, please don't expect updates to come this quickly all the time. Right now, life is being kind and my Muse is being even kinder.

I won nothing and make no money and this is not beya'd so please forgive any mistakes.

Chapter 20

"I thank you Cedric for seeing me back to hotel."

"Think nothing of it Viktor," came the other wizards' reply, tacking on with a touch of humor, "I'm just doing my job. Remember, you have to be in Auror custody until at least dawn."

Both wizards looked out over the sky to where the first streaks of red and yellow were flickering over the horizon. "Looks like you time it perfect, Auror Diggory."

Clapping his friend on the shoulder, Cedric said with a grin, "I think more or less, the owners' wife of that fine establishment might be the one with the perfect timing. I thought she was going to brain him with something hard and heavy when she came downstairs well after closing time to discover patrons still in residence."

Viktor chuckled. "Is true. She look meaner than Hungarian Horntail. I vas sorry to cause trouble for poor vizard. Still, I think he thought it vorth it."

"Oh, definitely," Cedric agreed with a nod of his head. "If Fleur had been with us – all the Tri-wizard champions – that fellow probably would have expired on the spot. Hey, thanks for picking up the tab. You really didn't have to, but thanks."

"Bah, no trouble," Viktor argued. "Tickets come vith VIP box and best view of game. Also, he get to meet players of both teams after match. Tickets vorth great deal, so he come out on top. Is how you say?"

"That is the correct usage of that particular idiom," Cedric assured the Seeker.

"Good, good," Krum let out a relieved breath. "I do better vith English, I think. Is hard language to master."

Face screwed up in puzzlement, Cedric asked, "Is it necessary to improve your language skills? I mean, do you really need to given that you travel world-wide with the team and rarely give interviews outside of your own country."

Having arrived at their destination, Viktor stopped and turned to face Cedric. "Is possible I retire soon." Cedric's brows flew high. "Is sport for younger men. Many new faces vith great talent starting to show promise. Is soon time to give them chance for their dream. I have been lucky, but dreams, they change."

"Whoa, wait a second! You're not an ancient, doddering, broken down player," Cedric exclaimed. "You're in your prime, Viktor!"

The Seeker chuckled again. Noting Cedric's annoyed expression, he went on to hurriedly say, "I not make fun of you, my friend. Is just, you say almost exact vords as my Skupi Edno (Dear One)."

Cedric's face cleared. "Really? Well, I guess great minds and all that, and truthfully they don't get much greater than Hermione's."

Quirking a brow, Viktor stated simply, "Is true, vhat you say. She has most brilliant mind. You have much regard for her. This is vhat I am thinking?"

Staring straight into the larger mans' curious eyes, Cedric quantified with great clarity and meaning, "I respect you, Viktor which is why I'm going to come right out and say that not only do I hold Hermione in great regard, I'm attracted to her physically and mentally. I've asked her to accompany me to the Ministry Ball, and she agreed."

"I see," Viktor murmured, not in the least put off by the younger wizards' proclamation. "I understand. I too esteem her greatly. I be just as honest. Since Hogvarts she has been vith me. In Japan. In China. In States. In all places I go." Then, Viktor added with quiet passion, while pointing to his massive chest. "But mostly, she has been vith me here,"

Touched by the depth of his feeling, Cedric admitted to his new friend, "Well, after I asked her, and she accepted, she did tell me that she couldn't offer me any sort of commitment and gave me the opportunity to retract my invitation, which I declined to do."

Nodding, Viktor replied seriously, "Is good ve be clear on this matter. As Harry's Musketeers ve are brothers-in-arms in protection of Skupi Edno (Dear One) and must vork together in harmony for her. I honor vhat you say, but vill not retreat in my intentions. Understand?"

"Sŭvŭrsheno priyatelyu (Perfectly, my friend)," Cedric replied, accent flawless.

Viktor reared back in surprise, and with a pleased smile said, "You speak home tongue! This is pleasing to me! Ve have meal or drink again soon so to speak in native language. You might help vith my grasp of English?"

"I'd enjoy that," Cedric replied, chuckling. "I'm fluent in several languages which is why I often get sent to various countries to their Auror facilities. Sometimes I'm sent on diplomatic missions or in order to gain extra training lessons. Recently, I had a meeting with the Bulgarian Minister."

Looking impressed, Viktor commented with a small smile, "Is high honor to meet vith our Minister. He good vizard but not often vanting to meet vith those outside Bulgaria. He say it necessary evil."

"I liked what I saw." Cedric elaborated by saying, "There was none of this Blood-status bigotry we have here, and I saw werewolves gainfully employed. Why, the only reason I even knew the man was a werewolf is because I over-heard a pal of his mention his furry problem. I asked the man questions and his answers were astonishing! There is no required werewolf registry and no ridiculous fear of becoming infected on anything other than the full moon. It was amazing."

"Very rare to have a verevolf similar to monstrosity known as Greyback. Those who turn vicked are dealt with qwickly so to prevent infection of others. Only 10% of our verevolf population behave in rabid manner. Number decrease yearly."

Cedric was more shocked by this news than he had been when he'd discovered that werewolves were permitted well-paying jobs outside and inside the Bulgarian Ministry. Cedric sputtered, almost embarrassed, "It seems as if our Ministry is woefully behind the times. I mean, I knew that they were, but to hear the actual numbers is mind-blowing." Tentatively he asked, "What is done with the ones who do go, as you say, rabid?"

Instead of answering the question directly, Viktor inquired, sounding ominous, "Vhat vould you normally do vith rabid animal?" Cedric's mouth fell open at the implication. Nodding, Viktor continued in the same tone, "Just so. Alvays it is made certain before putting dangerous beast down. Have not, to my knowledge, been vrong in the investigation. Use Versatium, you see. Those caught injuring or killing are still administered vith Versatium to be sure."

"So," Cedric began haltingly, "It's the ones who choose not to retain any of their humanity that are destroyed?"

"Not alvays," Viktor refuted. "There are those who choose to live as volves, They in packs far from humans. They harm none. Keep to selves. Bother no one. These, ve monitor as safety measure. If all vell, there is no action taken against them. You see?"

Cedric did see. While he was not one to promote killing, he saw the sense in how the Bulgarian government dealt with their werewolf population. Those infected and who wanted to maintain as normal as an existence as possible – bar that one night of the month – were not treated as last-class citizens.

They weren't forced to sign a public register which in turn was used in the hiring process since no one wanted to have a 'filthy beast' working for them. It was conveniently forgotten that the majority bitten, through no fault of their own, had generally been innocent children. Those same children who then grew into adulthood never being able to forget that they were bearing the worst of stigmas while wallowing in jobless poverty.

"There are many differences between our countries," Viktor went on. "In banks, Goblins vork in harmony vith vitches and vizards." Viktor chuckled when Cedric's eyes goggled to the point of hilarity. "Many sentient beings – those who considered beasts in your governments eyes – be valuable allies as vell as friends in home country and in surrounding countries also. Vhereas here, in your lands, I have seen prejudice of blind population vith clear perspective muddied by fear ruling hearts and minds. Is sad."

Cedric couldn't help but agree. "Perhaps I'm working for the wrong Ministry."

"Perhaps," Viktor conceded with a slight upward tick to his lips. "Or, perhaps, you be instrumental in changes to British Ministry."

Cedric laughed that suggestion off by saying, "Not from the Auror Department, I won't."

Viktor shrugged, saying simply, "As I said, dreams change."

This conversation was certainly giving Cedric food for thought. How in Merlin's fuzzy beard had he gone through life to this point without knowing that other countries' views on Goblins, Werewolves and probably various other – as Viktor put it – sentient beings were so diametrically opposed to his own country and Ministry? It was baffling. Had they all been deliberately kept in the dark of the advances in these areas? In what else has their Ministry been lagging so far behind? In comparison, Cedric and his kind were living in the Dark Ages! Maybe he should do some investigating on the matter.

Breaking into Cedric's troubled thoughts, Viktor said, "Has been most enjoyable evening."

"Enjoyable?" Cedric parroted back, incredulous. "You had to listen to a bunch of fatuous refuse about someone you care a great deal for, decked that no-good blighter Ronald Bilius Weasley, my boss was most insistent on arresting you post-haste and you were, eventually, taken into Auror custody. Granted, Auror custody ended up amounting to sitting on a bar-stool drinking in an out-of-the-way bar. Still, it was Auror custody and will go on record as such."

"As I say, most enjoyable," Viktor remarked with a wide grin. "Part vhere punching Veasley, most gratifying part."

"Honestly, if I wouldn't have had to arrest myself afterward, I would have joined you. Thankfully, Harry got him out of there swiftly, otherwise it would have been a close call after taking all of your statements." Shaking his head in dismay, Cedric said, "Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable what that rotten git was saying."

At this point they were drawing a bit of a crowd, many of the milling wizards and witches recognizing the famous Seeker. One little boy grabbed a fistful of his mothers' robes, whispering frantically as he pointed at Viktor. Her eyes skated towards them, her mouth turning into an 'Oh' when she too realized who the wizard was standing not three feet away. With a hopeful expression, the boy broke away and ran toward them.

"Mister Krum," the boy began, little features shining with hope and wonder, "Can I have your autograph, please sir?"

Giving the lad an indulgent smile, Viktor replied, "I vould, young vizard, only I have nothing in vhich to sign."

The boy's face fell, poor kid looked like he was going to cry. "Hold on there," Cedric exclaimed, patting down his pockets. "I have some parchment and a quill. Aurors always carry them."

"Oh, thank you, Mister Auror, sir," the boy enthused, once again looking thrilled.

Just as Viktor gratefully accepted both items from Cedric, the boys' mum reached his side, saying in a reproachful manner, "You mustn't run off like that!" Turning to Viktor she said, "I'm very sorry, Mister Krum. He's just so fast, you see."

Giving the woman a smile that completely charmed her, he said smoothly, "Is no problem." Looking back down at the boy, Viktor asked, "Vhat is your name?"

"Milton," the boy exclaimed, jumping up and down in excitement.

"Is good name," Viktor remarked while scratching away on the parchment. "Your Mama say, you qwick?"

"Oh yes," Milton went on to say with great gusto. "Mum says I'm faster than a Blast-Ended Skrewt!"

Handing the parchment to Milton, who clutched it to his chest as if it was the greatest of treasures, Viktor informed him with great seriousness, "Is good to be qwick. Must be so to be Seeker. You have broom?" Milton shook his head. "Vait here."

Viktor Apparated and reappeared almost instantaneously holding a broom in his hand. Cedric recognized it as the newest model not even available to the public yet. The boy gasped, eyes widened in wonder. His friend took a moment to shorten its length to the size of a child before handing it over to Milton's mum, who took it with a hand that trembled, eyes suspiciously bright.

"We couldn't possibly," she began brokenly.

"Take," Viktor gently insisted, wrapping her fingers more tightly around the handle with his own. "Vill grow as child grows. Many charms to keep from harm. They disappear as improvement made. Speed too shall increase as skill increase. Understand?"

Almost too overwhelmed to speak, the woman, whispered, "Yes. Thank you."

Throwing himself at Viktor, Milton exclaimed, "Thank you, Mister Krum! I'll be the bestest Seeker ever, I promise!"

"Good, good," Viktor commended the lad, rubbing his palm over the boys' brown curls. With one last squeeze, Milton released the Seeker.

"Come, Milton," his Mum commanded him in a loving tone. "We've taken up enough of Mister Krum's time." With a wave from her son and a nod from his Mum, they went on their way.

"You're really something, Viktor," Cedric said with amused warmth. "No wonder you're a hero to countless boys and girls. Do you answer all your own fan mail too?"

Shaking his head with a chuckle, the older wizard said, "Is important to encourage the young. They the future of this Vorld, are they not? Vhat good is fame if it cannot be used to benefit of others. Is duty to take influence to use for good vhile I still can."

Taking a moment to really look at the Bulgarian, Cedric finally commented with sincerity, "I'm glad we've managed to become friends, Viktor. You are truly a good man. Humble and kind."

Viktor's cheeks reddened at Cedric's praise of his character. "Pfft, I am just me. I may go now, Auror Diggory?"

Forcing his features into a serious demeanor, Cedric stated formally, "Viktor Krum, I hereby release you from Auror custody. I hope such a situation will not arise in the future, or I will be compelled to take you into custody once more."

Clicking his heels and giving a respectful nod, Viktor replied, "I vill do my best, Auror Diggory."

"Whelp, that's all I can ask," was Cedric's breezy response. "I'll be off then. Let's have a drink together again real soon, yeah?"

Viktor gave another nod and with a grin stated truthfully, "I vould velcome it, Cedric." With a short, salute-like wave, Cedric Apparated.

Viktor strode into the entrance of the hotel stopping briefly at the main desk to see if he had any messages. As he made his way to the lift, he rifled through the stack, muttering under his breath at the ridiculous amount of marriage proposals and insulting offers and suggestions of the licentious nature. He made a mental note to inform the hotel staff in charge to divert all owls of unknown origin to the teams' coach.

Luckily, the man was quite adept at weeding out the wheat from the chaff. He'd certainly had enough practice during Viktor's Quidditch tenure. Grimly, he recalled the instance of the tainted chocolates sent to him his first year of national recognition. The entire team had been affected with the exception of himself – he'd been trying to lighten his weight a bit – and the coach. They'd had to forfeit two games until a medi-witch or wizard could be contacted since the team doctor was in no shape to assist having also indulged his sweet tooth.

Viktor detested the notoriety that came with simply playing a game that he loved and playing it well. It was aggravating that the majority of the population only saw him as the World Renowned Quidditch Star, eager to bask in the glow of his reflected fame. The thought struck him that Harry must know exactly how that feels too, having had to live with his own well-known and much revered moniker. Yes, Harry would understand and sympathize. In many ways, the drawbacks of this life were enough to sully the enormous benefits to a certain degree.

A steaming hot shower and shave later had done Viktor a world of good, and although he'd much rather sink into his comfortable mattress, he knew there was no putting off what it was that he had to do next. Still, he drank three cups of tea and ate a hearty breakfast before walking to his private floo. Grabbing a handful of powder, hesitating slightly before firming his resolve, he called out 'Lavender Brown' before stepping into the green flames.

Viktor hadn't meant to startle the two women, but if the way they'd shrunk back and gasped was any indication, he had. "Apologies. I did not mean to frighten."

Blue eyes wide, Lavender jumped up, exclaiming, "Viktor! They released you!"

Viktor's gaze took in the fact that both women were still in their party dresses although a great deal more rumpled looking and while Astoria still appeared beautifully coiffed, Lavender's hair had partially fallen from it's tight up-do. Thick ropes of honey-blonde hair hung about her face which still held the traces of running make-up along with blotches of high color on her tear-ravaged features.

"Yes," Viktor supplied unnecessarily. "They be most gracious."

Taking her friends' hand to gently pull her back down onto the sofa, Astoria asked, "Is Weasley going to press further charges?"

Giving a non-nonchalant shrug, Viktor answered with an unfeigned disregard to further consequences for his actions. "I care not. Veasley is a vorm crawling on yellow belly getting by on status of Hero!" The last word was spat out with such venom that Lavender flinched.

Clutching harder at her friends' shaking hand, Astoria, remarked, "I agree that his actions are unworthy of the title. Still, how is it after beating the life out of an Auror that you're standing here a mere few hours later? I admit to confusion on this point."

Viktor chose not to inform the ladies that a great deal of that time was spent in a bar with the very same Aurors who arrested him. "They say I vas justified in actions against vorm. Give me less time."

"Justified?" Lavender whispered, horrified. "You put him in St. Mungos, Viktor!"

"He lucky I not put him on Yanus Vard," Viktor bit out angrily.

"Janus Ward," Lavender echoed disbelievingly. "Who are you? I mean, this person in front of me is not the person I've been in a relationship with for almost year! Where is the kind and gentle Viktor that I'm familiar with? Where has he gone?"

Viktor's stony features softened. "I not vant to distress you, Lavender. Last thing I vant, truly. Must try to understand that Veasley say much vile things. I could not allow to continue." He paused before admitting quietly, "I did lose temper, is accurate to say so. It not happen much, but vhen it do, is not pretty."

Lavender wiped away a tear, not quite meeting his gaze, then slowly raised her head and speared him to the spot. "Viktor… I've been to the majority of your games. There have been many occasions where you've come home bloodied and bruised, sometimes with broken limbs or a dislocated shoulder. I've seen you battle it out with your competitors, and how nasty those interactions have gotten. Still, even the rival players you've actively disliked the most, after every game no matter how battered, you've smiled at the opposition, apologized for your over-aggressive behavior and shaken their hands."

"Lav…."

"No, Viktor," she cut in sharply. "Let me finish. I need to say this. I need to try to understand where you're head was when all that went down at the party. I need to!" Viktor nodded.

Biting her lip, eyes bright with emotion, she continued, voice sounding choked, "When I saw you about to punch Ron, I went over there to try to stop it. To hopefully save everyone, especially you, from an embarrassing encounter. Then, I saw your face and I had never, never seen such incalculable fury as I did in that moment. Not toward anyone anywhere. Nowhere, Viktor! Against no one! I don't know what was said, I only saw the aftermath. What I do know is that the Viktor I care for, the Viktor I know… was not present."

A heartbeat passed, then two more before Viktor realized that Lavender had said her piece. "I vas a man possessed, is true. I regret shrugging you off and saying things I said to you. I see now, you trying to help. Nothing you say could have svayed me, Lavender. No one could have stopped me, I vas seeing red, as you say. I only know I must protect and stop slanderous tongue."

"Protect?" Lavender questioned sadly, with a tilt of her head. "That's what you call what you did?"

"Yes," Viktor stated emphatically. "On this I vill not vaver!"

Thinking is was long past time for her to make an exit, Astoria stood, wiped the palms of her hands down the folds of her couture gown, saying into the strained silence, "I'd better be on my way." Lavender also stood. Pulling her friend into a hug, Astoria whispered, "I'm here for you, Lav, so if you need me, floo or owl me. I… I found a vial of Dreamless Sleep in your medicine cabinet and placed it by your bed. Promise me you'll take it after he leaves."

Lavender squeezed Astoria tighter before releasing her without saying a word. When Astoria turned back toward Viktor, he had the urn of floo powder in his hands offering it up to her. With a murmured thanks and a commiserating pat to Viktor's shoulder, Astoria was gone.

Neither of the two left behind, seemed interested in breaking the heavy silence. Viktor fidgeted nervously, seating himself on a chair only after Lavender sank back into the sofa. Finally, when it became too much, Viktor spoke. "I am sorry to have hurt you. Such vas not my intent, please believe me."

Swallowing hard, Lavender replied so softly that Viktor had to strain to hear. "I do believe you… but knowing that doesn't make it hurt less.

Slightly exasperated, Viktor exclaimed, "Hurting you, I regret much. To cause you pain causes ache in me. Regarding gormless vorm, I cannot apologize for something I not regret! Not. At. All. To say otherwise to please you, vould be a lie to both of us. This I cannot do, vould be wrong."

Blinking rapidly, desperately trying to keep more tears at bay, Lavender finally managed to say, "It's not only the way you gave Ron a thorough thrashing, Viktor. Although what you said to me at the party when I approached you did bother and stun me… it's why you lost control the way that you did that's weighing on my heart so heavily."

Even knowing that this particular conversation was inevitable, Viktor was reluctant to have it now simply because there was already so many volatile emotions in play. Initially, he'd come here to apologize for his recalcitrant behavior toward her the evening before. It was also true, prior to the red-headed idiot stumbling amongst them at the Zabini's, his intent after returning from the party was to explain to her that he would be staying at the hotel with the rest of his team for the remainder of his visit. However, in light of the disastrous proceedings at the ill-fated social function, he hadn't planned on delving too deeply into the status of their current relationship this morning. Apparently, Lavender's thoughts on this matter differed from his own.

"Ever since you met up with Hermione, things have been different between us." Pausing to collect herself, taking a deep breath, Lavender then went on to finish her thoughts. "You haven't spent the night in ages, and I had hoped that was because you were too tired or something similar."

Clenching her hands tightly in her lap, voice shaking, she continued, "I've tried very hard not to think that she was the reason for these alterations in our usual routine. Then, last night, you came to her defense so vehemently, and I… I knew, knew... that she must have something to do with all these changes. Tell me I'm wrong, Viktor."

To say that Viktor was gutted would have been an understatement. She knew the truth yet her eyes practically begged him to deny her allegations. When they'd met nearly a year ago, Viktor had been vacationing with his parents in the south of France. He had not recognized her from her Fourth Year at Hogwarts, having been totally focused then on the charmingly delightful, Hermione Granger. Lavender had not been surprised at not being remembered from her school days, smiling ruefully when he'd told her in his broken English that he did not recall meeting her, knowing full well where his attention had been focused back then.

They'd spent a few days in each other's company which finally led to a night together, it was both an unexpected and pleasurable surprise. Viktor didn't think that either of them had intended for it to happen, but there had been a definite and immediate mutual attraction. Viktor spent the last few days of his vacation alternating between his parents and Lavender. She hadn't met his parents during that trip since Viktor was of the impression that what they shared was more of a holiday fling, and nothing more.

Viktor had gone back to traveling with his team and Lavender had gone back to whatever it was that she did. Several months later their paths had crossed again. It was at a bar where Viktor and his team-mates had been celebrating their latest win. Lavender had come with a girlfriend who'd been dealing with a recent break-up. Said girlfriend had left with Slavko who had a thing for Venetian-haired beauties. According to Slavko, the witch in question had moves that he, in his vast experience, had never come across before. Afterward, for what seemed like forever, Slavko would bemoan that fact that their game schedule did not allow for a repeat performance.

That night, once again, he and Lavender had ended up sleeping together. She'd never asked for anything and had no apparent expectations other than having satisfying sex and companionable company. Viktor found this inordinately appealing considering all the witches who threw themselves at him to no avail, had wild expectations that he had no intentions of fulfilling. Those sort of women, he avoided like the Dragon Pox. Being with Lavender had been like a much needed breathe of fresh air. With her, there had been no demands and no expectations.

Several pleasurable encounters later, Viktor began to receive letters from Lavender while out and about with the team. Initially, he did not respond, not wanting to give hope where there was none. Viktor was a solitary soul, enjoying his forays into the physical, but basically preferred his books and a select few people versus socializing at large gatherings such as the Zabini affair. Yet, Lavender's letters had been different from other so-called fan letters. She hadn't professed undying love, offer marriage or something equally distasteful. Hers had been entertaining and humorous, Viktor had found himself laughing out loud numerous times.

It was only after he'd been badly injured during a game against the Caerphilly Catapults, that Viktor had both the time and the inclination to respond to her letters. It had been a scattered correspondence at first with stops and starts and no real information enclosed within their contents. Little blurbs on the various teams and the games that they had participated in. Certain moves on his broom. What he'd learned from all the players and coaches that he'd studied extensively and how that information had furthered his career in countless ways. He hadn't been comfortable exposing his private life, not to anyone on such short acquaintance. Surprisingly, Lavender seemed okay with that, never pushing or prying for more than he was willing to give.

When he'd recovered enough to return to playing Quidditch, the letters continued. He did not keep Lavender's letters, the way he did Hermione's. Those, he carried with him always, re-reading them over and over again when time allowed. He continually marveled at their content, for even as a young girl, Hermione had knowledge beyond her years. The rounded, childish script grew more mature as she did, but the letters stopped shortly at the end of her Sixth Year. Viktor knew the cause of this silence and took to praying every day to all the deities known to Wizarding-kind that she would come through the War safe and unharmed.

After he'd learned of her triumph over the Dark Wizard, Viktor had contemplated taking up his quill again to resume their correspondence, but then thought better of the idea. By this point, tales of Hermione's last year, or so, had been reaching his ears. He wasn't sure how accurate those tales had been, but he'd thought it best to give her time to rest and recuperate after her ordeal.

Not long after that decision had been made, word of her relationship with the Weasley boy had started making the rounds in all the newspapers. Again, Viktor had been unsure of the truth of these articles, so he'd reached out to an acquaintance in Britain who had then conformed the reports. The irrefutable knowledge of this romantic relationship tore at Viktor's heart because he knew that their time, and the sharing of their lives through more letters, had come to an end.

For years afterward, Viktor, lamented his lost opportunity. His team-mates had noticed his lack of joking, lack of smiles, his waning interest in all things he'd once taken enjoyment from; correctly surmising that somewhere along the way, his heart had been broken. Eventually the deep hurt had faded to a dull ache. Life did, after all, go on.

Being a man, Viktor had had his fair share of casual liaisons over the next few years, but he was always honest with them by informing them that any sort of long-term relationship was not in the exploding snap cards. He'd made a habit of choosing witches who understood his conditions, were amiable to them, and those who he could rely on to be circumspect regarding their dealings together. Never once had his intimate encounters ever made the pages of any paper, unlike Weasley's exploits.

After years of intermittent encounters with Lavender, just over eight months ago, they had decided to become more exclusive. The words weren't spoken, but the meaning had been implied. Normally, he would be with a witch for nothing remotely close to anything other than the physical component. Slowly, with Lavender, it had become different. It had become more. Because of that, it did not set well with him to enjoy the company of other witches while continuing to be with her. So, from the time they'd starting seeing each other on a regular basis, he'd stopped sleeping with other women. Gradually, they'd built a tentative relationship of sorts. It was light and uncomplicated as well as fulfilling in a multitude of ways.

Viktor had found a comfortable companionship with Lavender. It had eased an emptiness inside of himself that he knew existed but had barely acknowledged. They'd managed to keep their relationship under the press' radar since they had only been seen out and about infrequently due to his Quidditch schedule. That horrendous Skeeter woman had figured it out, but a hefty bribe from the team manager put paid to those potential stories. In essence, their relationship was not widely known. The occasional public appearance, such as last evenings. To the untrained eye, it had looked like nothing more than a cavalier outing between two people who were casual about each other.

Then, several weeks ago, while playing in Albania. Viktor read of Weasley's scandalous behavior toward Hermione. That knowledge had a surge of feeling charging through him that could only be described as a mixture of abundant pity for her plight along with a stirring of hope. That stab of hope had been quickly followed by anger toward himself at experiencing such anticipation in the face of Hermione's grievous public pain. After what Viktor considered a respectable passage of time, he'd sent an owl suggesting they meet at a Muggle coffee shop. To his great delight, she'd sent a response stating she would be pleased to have coffee with him at a cafe of his choosing.

When she'd entered the cafe, his first thought was that she had matured into a breathtakingly beautiful woman. At fifteen, the promise of such beauty standing before him, had now been realized. When she'd taken his hands, smiling affectionately at him, Viktor had savored the genuine warmth of her greeting. On closer inspection, it had distressed him to note that Hermione's loveliness had been marred by a peaked, paleness with an underlying sadness which had lent her features a pained poignancy.

His heart had immediately gone out to her. It had been an impulse to address Hermione by the nickname born at Hogwarts. Viktor had felt triumphant when it had the glorious effect of widening her smile and adding delightful color to her cheeks. It wasn't long before her demeanor had become more animated, eyes bright and sparkling, reminding him once more of the girl who had stolen his heart all those years ago. To Viktor, it had been more exhilarating than winning the World Cup.

It was unfair to Lavender, finding such immeasurable joy in Hermione's presence. Of that fact, Viktor had been keenly aware. Still, there had been no stopping the indescribable thrill that had wracked his body at the mere touch of her hands as they clasped his own. The welcoming, warm scent of vanilla had wafted to his nose, tickling his senses; making him hyper-aware of yesteryear, Back to a time when he'd had the privilege of caressing the soft, silky expanse of skin which had often carried that very same scent. Even her luxurious curling mane was as fragrant as the days of yore, when he used to bury his face in their splendid, untamed depths. With that simple touch, with that same simple scent, it had all come back to him in like a tidal wave.

Viktor had loved her then with the love of a wizard on the brink of manhood. She would not have been his first partner of the flesh, but she would have been his last. Their coming together would have been in love and not to just sate the clamoring need of simple sexual desire. Although, to say that they hadn't had that in droves, would have been a vast understatement. Physically, they had been more than a match. Her response to his lovemaking had almost driven him to take her innocence on several heated occasions.

Still, Viktor was far from obtuse, knowing that while she had held his beating, trembling heart in the palm of her hand, the same could not be said of hers. So, when she mistakenly thought he hadn't thought her pretty enough, or cared for her enough to be her first lover, he had gently and with great sorrow informed her that the reverse was true. He had not wanted there to be any regret on her part between them, so he had loved her as much as he could without taking that final step.

In that cafe, they had spoken to each other easily and without the awkward pauses which generally occurred when people had been parted by years. Their exchanges had been seamless and filled with unfeigned interest in each other's' life events. When he'd told her of his meeting with Headmistress McGonagall, her palpable excitement and the brillance in her honey-colored eyes had him almost breathless. Clearly, she'd been pleased at the prospect of his possible proximity by teaching at Hogwarts.

Viktor had told no one, save Hermione and his coach, of his potential change in occupation. It was a relatively newly acquired idea on his part. It had been chance that had led to the Headmistress contacting him on the subject of becoming the Potions Professor. If Viktor had believed in such things, he would have said that the Headmistress of Hogwarts had seer-like qualities. Since he did not, he would say that her invitation had been serendipitous. It would bear serious thinking on, and Viktor planned to do just that.

His emotions when it came to Lavender were similar, but not on the same par as those he held for Hermione. The former was charming, having been brought up on the social niceties. Even so, there was none of the snootiness in Lavender that often came from being a Pure-Blood. Though cool in her charm, it was genuine, whereas almost always the charm of a Pure-Blood was smarmy at best.

Hermione had charm as well, but hers was of a more natural bent. Warm, instead of cool politeness, although, it had to be said that Lavender was warm-hearted when it came to those she cared about. Still, Hermione had, from the very start of his association with her, drawn him in with her shy, deeply felt, earnest charisma and her stunningly voracious intellect and thirst for knowledge. All of these things ran through his mind as he prepared a reply to her query.

"Lavender," Viktor began quietly but with great depth of emotion. "I am not a man of many words. I had hoped ve discuss this topic at later time. Events from last night vill only serve to make this discussion troubling to us both. However, if it is your vish to discuss now, then ve discuss now."

When Lavender had told Astoria that she knew should just go ahead ask Viktor about Hermione Granger, but that she was too afraid to because of what the answer might be, she had been telling her friend the absolute truth. Yet, here she was, instigating the very discussion she was absolutely petrified of having. Last night had been the motivating factor although, ever since Viktor had met Hermione for coffee, terrifying thoughts of them were never too far away.

Perhaps she was being an idiot for wanting answers just hours after the incident. Perhaps she should wait until things were more settled and tempers were more… well… more tempered. Maybe… maybe she should wait. She wanted to say, 'yes, let's wait,' but those words did not come out of her mouth simply because she had been put in Gryffindor House for a very valid reason.

"I don't think it's possible to put off this particular conversation until a better time." Lavender informed the man sitting in the chair opposite her. There was a suspicion in her head, that there never would be a better time. Not for her, at least. Not if this was going to go in the direction she feared it would. Taking the Minotaur by the horns, she asked, "Is there something going on between you and Hermione Granger?"

Viktor was silent for a moment, then replied, sounding grave, "I have not been unfaithful to you. I svear on my vand."

Cocking her blond head to side, Lavender commented with an assurance born of a woman's intuition. "Perhaps not in body, Viktor. I believe you on that score."

Looking him square in the eye with an intensity that was slightly unnerving, Lavender continued with her explanation. "Infidelity needn't be only of a physical nature. For most witches, there's something worse. I emphasize most because it depends on the witches' nature as to whether or not it's true, but to most, emotional infidelity is far more detrimental and ruinous than cheating of a sexual nature."

"I see," Viktor responded slowly, feeling wretched.

"Do you," Lavender asked, face dejected, but her voice had a cold, hollowness to it. "I've had hours to think on this with Astoria as a sounding board. I've always known that Hermione was special to you. It was obvious to just about everyone except Hermione, that you were half-way in love with her during the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"Is partly true, vhat you say," Viktor acknowledged, features grim. "I not vant to hurt you by saying these things, but must say them. Is time." Taking a deep breath, he continued as compassionately as he could. "I vas not partly in love with Hermoninny." Lavender didn't bat an eye at his dreadful pronunciation. "I vas loving her, even then, vith whole heart."

Lavender began to visibly quiver, something inside tearing asunder. "And, now," she managed to force the question out through lips that trembled slightly.

Viktor reached for Lavender's hand, placing her small, smooth fingers atop his upturned palm, the opposite one covering hers so that it was sandwiched between both of his hands. In a way, Lavender was grateful for his warmth seeping into her freezing digits, making them feel less numb. She only wished he could do the same to her heart which, was now, nothing but a tight ball of fractured ice.

Speaking softly, Viktor asked, "Have vords of love ever passed between us?" Numb to the bone, Lavender wordlessly shook her head.

"Our time together has been remarkable in many vays. You brought much joy to me. I thank you for that. As I say before, is not my intention to vound you further. You are brave. You are!" Viktor emphasized when she snorted derisively.

"I say I vould have vaited for this talk til all calms down. Now that ve are here, I see that I vas frightened. I acted in cowardly fashion. This erroneous of me. I am humbled by your fearless bravery. I am mortified that I not have courage sooner to converse on this matter. I am most sincerely sorry, Lavender. I not ask for forgiveness now, for I deserve none. I hope someday, you vill pardon my vrong-doings to you, but understand if you are not able."

Lavender's entire body shook with the intensity of her weeping. Though her shoulders heaved and her face was drenched, tears falling fast and furious, the blue eyes which stared back at him were filled to the brim with indomitable pride. Viktor was abashed anew, for here was a woman of high caliber and immense character. There was a wizard out there somewhere, he was sure, who would be her match in every way. Someone who would love and cherish her the way that she deserved. The way that he had not been able to.

Stiffening her spine in a way that Viktor couldn't help but admire, Lavender stated simply, "I believe that it's time for you to go." Rising from the sofa, head held high, with the poise of a queen, she said, "Please see yourself out."

Viktor stood, snapped his boots together, bowed low over the hand he still had, brushing his lips lightly over her knuckles, he murmured, "May the Gods bless you in all vays possible." Her fingers flexed around his in acknowledgment. With quiet intensity, he added, "Good-bye, Lavender."

For a moment her poised facade cracked slightly, showing the vulnerable woman beneath, only to be repaired just as quickly, her fine features impassive and coolly polite once more. "May the Gods bless you in all ways possible," she replied, with polite intonation, just like any other properly brought up witch. No sooner was Viktor's broad back disappearing through the bright flames of the floo, than Lavender was whispering brokenly, "Good-bye, Viktor."

As you all know by now, the first alternate ending will be Viktor's.

This chapter was tough to write. I hated doing what I did to Lavender, but take comfort in knowing that good things will come her way eventually. So, please don't blast me in the comments on how this chapter ended.

We've all been let down by someone we loved. I was involved with a man who I eventually thought I would marry. We dated on and off for three years and we did speak of marriage. It did not work out, and I was beyond devastated. I cried when I woke up in the morning, I cried sporadically during the day and I cried myself to sleep every night for a long, long time. In retrospect, he had done the right thing because his last words to me were, "I don't think I can love you as unconditionally as you can love me."

He was honest, it was brutal, but he had the courage to be honest. Now, I know it never would have worked out between us because what he really meant was, if you could change things about you to be what I want them to be, maybe I could love you unconditionally. He either knew I wouldn't change myself, or didn't want to ask me to change myself. Either way, I applaud his courage many years after the fact.

I applaud Lavender's courage and dignity. She's going to be okay, folks.

Thanks for reading!