Happy Saturday! I'm so glad you're all digging this story as much as I love writing it. :o) This is officially the chapter I really wanted to get out to y'all this weekend because it's the first one that we really get to see a bit of what makes Viktor and Hermione so sweet together. It's also the first time we meet some of my original characters which I'm super excited for! (Though the next chapter introduces two that have major impacts on our couple!) :o) Which means it'll probably be my last post until next Saturday so I hope you guys like where this ends until next week!

As always, thank you so much for being here and again, I want to thank y'all for the love in the reviews!

Love,

Adrien

Important Note: From now on, anything written like this that isn't a letter will be when the characters are speaking Bulgarian. :o)

Disclaimer: Anything recognizable comes from the sandbox J. K. Rowling created and does not belong to me. The characters you don't recognize though, very much do belong to me. (I decided it was past do for my to bring some of my own toys into one of my very Potter sandcastles.)

Chapter Four: Falling Back in...to the Familiar

"Where should I start?" Hermione asks, swinging her legs on the bar stool Viktor had had her sit on while he made the two of them some tea (her favorite tea, the kind that relaxes her, she notes in the back of her mind).

"Why don't you start where our correspondence stopped?" Viktor suggests, leaning up against the counter as he waits for the water to boil. She didn't know why he was doing things the muggle way or why his family even had a muggle stove in their house when they were a pureblood family.

"Well, I don't have many facts right now. I had to leave in a hurry and didn't have time to really stop and think." Hermione huffs in exasperation, her hand lifting to yank through her hair out of habit.

Viktor catches her hand in his much larger one, stopping hers from running through her hair and squeezing it gently in an attempt to comfort her. "Just tell me what you know, we can figure the rest out together."

An involuntary smile lifts up Hermione's lips as she looks up at the Bulgarian quidditch player. "Thank you Viktor." She squeezes his hand with hers. "All I know is that Dumbledore is the one who ended up with my letters and that he is likely the one who kept me from getting them while I was at Hogwarts. I also know that someone, or multiple people, in the Weasley family kept your letters from me while I was staying with them. I-"

"What is this?" Viktor cuts her off, holding her hand up to his face to get a closer look. "Who did this to you?" She had only seen Viktor this angry a handful of times, all of which had been the result of someone (usually Malfoy) disrespecting her or when she had been placed in the dangerous waters of the Black Lake for the Second Task.

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from last year favored a Blood Quill during her detentions."

"But those are illegal!"

"She didn't much care for rules unless they were her rules you were breaking. Besides it's not the worst scar I got last year." Hermione tugs up the bottom of her shirt so that Viktor can see a piece of the scar she had received from Dolohov.

Viktor's hand reaches out, brushing against the rough skin of her scar as he stares with wide eyes. "How are you alive?"

A tired, slightly hysterical laugh slips through Hermione's lips because that's a question she's asked herself increasingly more often with each year she continued her education at Hogwarts. "It's the Harry factor," she tells the burly man who is holding her more gently than she can ever remember anyone besides him holding her before, her hand unconsciously tracing the mirror resting between the waistband of her jeans and her hip.

A smile tugs at Viktor's lips at the term I'd explained to him so long ago when I had shared a bit of the adventure being best friends with Harry had been. "What's this?" Viktor asks, his fingers covering hers and tracing the edges of the mirror.

"This is how I'm going to stay in contact with my brother, how he'll let me know if he needs help and how I'm going to keep him informed of the plan to get him out of Britain the moment he turns seventeen."

"We. You aren't alone anymore, Mila, I'm with you as long as you'll have me."

"Why are you doing this? Why are you sheltering me when it will put you in danger? When you don't really know me?"

"Because you see me. Not the famous seeker. Not the Triwizard Champion. But Viktor, just Viktor."

"You see me too you know." She cups his cheek softly, rubbing her thumb across the stumble that had grown there. "Not the prodigy or the Brightest Witch of the Age. Not Harry Potter's best friend, the brains of the Golden Trio. Just Hermione."

Viktor smiles, leaning into her hand and closing his eyes as he unconsciously pulls her closer. "I've missed you so much, Mila."

Hermione opens her mouth to reply, to tell him just how much she has missed him as well, when the mirror begins to vibrate against her side. Her hand immediately grips the mirror, ripping it out of the waistband of her jeans and opening it with concern contorting her features because Harry wasn't supposed to be calling her right now.

"Harry, love, what's the matter? You weren't supposed to call until later tonight." Hermione rushes as soon as her brother's image appears in the mirror.

"I know… I just wanted to make sure you made it to Bulgaria alright. Sorry for worrying you," Harry replies, his fingers grazing the mirror.

"It's alright. I'm just surprised you got away from all the crazies." Hermione smiles, her own fingers touching the mirror in the same place Harry's own hand was.

Harry shoots her a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "I may or may not have thrown a temper tantrum ending with a priceless Black vase shattering against Walburga's portrait before stomping upstairs."

Genuine laughter bubbles in Hermione's chest, quickly flowing from her mouth and bringing soft smiles to the faces of both of the boys watching her.

Then Viktor is joining her conversation with Harry and for the first time, she gets to see the only family she has left truly bonding with the person she still cared about so deeply that it should have scared her, especially after how long it had been...but it didn't.

Her and Viktor just fit so naturally. They had since the moment he had approached her in the library barely a week after his dramatic Hogwarts arrival with the rest of Durmstrang.

He'd started coming to her sanctuary the day after his arrival and, if she were being honest, she was a bit frustrated with the ruckus his fanclub had brought to the one place she could truly find peace in at Hogwarts. She was even more frustrated the day he approached her because he'd interrupted her research into the enchantments on the Triwizard Cup (She'd had a bad feeling since the competition had been announced, her worry for Harry being outweighed only by her worry for the twins when they became fixated on entering and she wanted to be sure their three names wouldn't be slipped in.) but then he'd asked if he could borrow an obscure text that she had check out before she had been distracted by the Goblet of Fire...just for a few moments so that he could check a reference for a project he was working on and then they had fallen into a debate over the accuracy of the text due to its age and the few moments turned into a few minutes which turned into a few hours. Eventually, he realized his groupies had given him a wide berth since he'd sat down with the curly-haired witch and unthinkingly voiced his relief. Which led to her laughter and a quick explanation of her protectiveness of Harry, especially when it came to fangirls who had refused to give him space until she'd throw a few well-placed hexes their way, and an offer for refuge with her whenever he needed it. His immediate response was arranging a meeting for the next day...and the next...and the next...until they were together more than they weren't. Only separating for classes and her need to help Harry.

Being with Viktor had always been easy. But somewhere between now and their last letter, she'd began doubting that fact. At some point, she'd began thinking that he time with him had been viewed largely through rose-colored glasses and skewed by time. But now she knew that everything she remembered was the truth because they so easily fell into their old routine.

After getting off the mirror with Harry, they fell into conversation about everything. His life and hers. Their latest passion projects. Their hopes and dreams and goals.

Hermione isn't sure when she'd fallen asleep but she's very aware when she wakes up because she is in a completely different place. She blinks blearily at the rose colored canopy above her head, confusion and sleep waring in her mind at how she had gotten here for a moment before a fond smile tugs at her lips. Viktor. It's always Viktor. Harry would have laid her down and covered her in a blanket. Ron might have woken her up on a good day. But only Viktor would carry her up the stairs and tuck her into bed.

Tossing her legs out of bed and sitting up, she reaches towards the ceiling to stretch out all her muscles which were a hell of a lot less tense after talking to Viktor all night than they had been since… Well, since the last time she'd been able to talk to Viktor.

A need to check her journal wiggles into her groggy mind, a small tugging in the pit of her stomach saying that there was a new message for her to read even though she and Viktor now shared the same house. Hermione's eyes skim the room, searching for the journal she knew had to be nearby. Another smile tugs at her lips when her eyes land on not only her journal but her mirror and a rose which were stacked on top of the familiar leather-bound book.

Picking up the rose and the mirror, she sets down the mirror beside her before stroking the petals of the flower and placing it down beside her as well so that she can open her journal and read his message.

Dear Mila,

I wish I hadn't had to leave you alone on your first day here but you were very insistent last night that I not miss practice and you're right, we have all the time in the world now that you are here with me. You're welcome to anything in the house if you want to stay in for the day but I will also give you Floo instructions and a map before signing off this note so that you can go into town if you wish. I was also hoping that you would be willing to meet me for lunch at noon? Now that you are here, I find myself never wanting to leave your side. I have missed you, Mila. I understand if you wish to stay in for today or if you wake too late to come because we were up so late last night though.

A extremely detailed map of an unfamiliar city (Hermione didn't even want to think about how long he had spent sketching that out for her or how early he had to get up to do it.) and an unfamiliar Floo address follow his words just as he promised before he goes back into his note.

I look forward to seeing you tonight even if you cannot come to lunch today and I hope that you like the rose I left for you this morning.

With Love,

Viktor

Hermione reaches for her wand under her pillow then looks at her hand in surprise when her wand brushes her palm. She had only mentioned once in an offhand comment that she had been sleeping with her wand under her pillow since the incident with the basilisk in her second year because she wanted to be prepared next time something came for her. And she had been every time. The fact that he remembered that though made Hermione feel incredibly safe.

Flicking her wrist with a silent spell (one of only three spells she could currently do wandless despite her endless attempts at learning wandless magic), a large grin pulls her lips up when the numbers appear in the air. 9:00 AM. Plenty of time to get ready and find her way to the stadium to meet Viktor for lunch. Her second silent spell has a quill flying toward her hand for her quick reply.

Dear Viktor,

Thank you for the map and the Floo address, I hadn't even thought about asking you about that yet. The flower was a beautiful surprise as well, I love it.

I would love to meet you for lunch, I have missed you too. I'll be at the stadium at noon.

With Love,

Hermione

Closing the book and scooping both her mirror and her rose into her arms, she places all three things onto her night stand before murmuring a spell that has her bed making itself as she walks to the bathroom connected to her room, leaving the connecting door open so she can hear if Harry tries to call her as turns on the shower and waits for the water to heat up. Normally she would take a bath and read a book but if she did that, she wouldn't have time to make the thank you picnic she wanted to surprise Viktor with at lunch as a throwback to the random picnics they would go on during their time at Hogwarts as a way to get away from all his crazy fans and all the people who thought she was just using him and Harry.

She steps under the spray and lets the water wash away the stress from the last few days and the anxiety she felt with the boy she had always protected so far away. For now, they are safe. For now, she can breathe. For now, she can just be. She doesn't remember the last time she was able to do that. If she had ever really been able to do that.

The last of the suds wash down the drain and Hermione shuts off the shower. She wandlessly summons her wand and charms herself dry before wrapping herself in a towel and walking out to her closet where she had placed the few clothes she owned last night while she and Viktor talked.

Her gaze drifts to the nicest things she owned. Two of three dresses she had owned since she stomped her foot and told her mum dresses were impractical at six years old, the other of which (her Yule Ball gown to be precise) had burned with her childhood home. They were both given to her by Sirius for her sixteenth (really her seventeenth because of the time turner) birthday. One was deep maroon and made out of the finest silk Hermione had ever felt. The rippling fabric stopped exactly at her knees and the neck of the dress dropped low in the back, giving a daring view of her back because a young woman as beautiful and courageous as her deserved to have a dress just as beautiful and daring for those special occasions according to Sirius. The second was a simple, very muggle, sleeveless denim dress the had a brown leather belt around her waist, a folded collar, and buttons running all the way down the middle of it. He'd given this one to her because a girl a gorgeous as she was on the inside deserved to feel equally as beautiful on the outside every day. She had never worn them, never felt worthy of wearing such beautiful things as shallow as that sounds, and now she felt horrible because she had never let Sirius see her wear either of them. She would never get the chance to tell him how grateful she was that someone saw past her perceived confidence, saw the insecurities that she felt everyday despite her abilities and intelligence.

She grabs the denim dress and lays it on her bed. Today is a new chapter. Today she will be the young woman Sirius had always seen her as. Today she would be the person she wanted to be. Turning back to her wardrobe, she spots the crème cardigan Professor Lupin had given her for the same birthday despite her protests that he shouldn't be spending money on her which follows her dress onto the bed. Her favorite brown boots (which she doesn't think it's a coincidence that they match the belt on her dress knowing Sirius) get tossed onto the floor next to the bed before she throws her towel over the wardrobe door and pulls on her favorite set of underwear. She quickly slips on the dress and buttons it by hand instead of charming it closed then shrugs on the cardigan before wrapping the belt around her waist and cinching both articles of clothing to her waist like her mum does every day…did. Like her mum did every day for as long as Hermione could remember. Like she probably did the day she died because Dumbledore didn't listen.

Hermione tugs on her boots before heading downstairs with her leather pouch (now charmed to match the rest of her outfit) slung across her body and her body and both the mirror and her journal tucked safely inside.

"May I help Miss Mione?" A small voice squeaks as soon as she enters the kitchen.

"Hello Miss Winky, how are you?" Hermione questions, squatting down to the same level as the elf she hadn't seen in ages but that Viktor had admitted to bonding to when they were speaking last night. He had become fond of the little elf and despised her treatment so he had offered her a home with him before he left.

"Winky is very well, Miss. Is Miss hungry? Would Miss like Winky to make Miss breakfast?"

"Actually, I was planning to make Viktor and I a picnic for lunch today. Would you like to help me with that?"

"Winky would love to Miss!"

The two spend the next hour putting together a picnic of all Viktor's favorite foods before Hermione is flooing into town and slowly making her way through the unfamiliar city toward the quidditch pitch.

The smell of cigarette smoke burns her nose moments before a voice draws her attention, "Is there something I can help you with, Miss?"

Hermione turns toward the voice, her hand stealthily going to where her wand is hidden by the cardigan, tucked in between her waist and her belt. Her eyes take in the hulking man around the same height as Viktor but much older, his hair still thick and dark but greying around the edges. Crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and wrinkles around his mouth tell her that he is a man of many smiles. The logo on his robes tell her that he is connected to Viktor's team. "Yes, actually. Do have any idea where I could wait to meet one of the players for lunch? My name is Hermione Granger and I have plans to meet Viktor today." The Bulgarian feels a bit rough to her but she hopes it gets her point across.

"Intelligence that matches your beauty just as Viktor described! He did not tell us you spoke our language, Miss Granger. My name is Nayden Petrov, I am Viktor's coach. It is nice to finally meet you, we have all heard so much about you." The hulking man grins, displaying a dimple in each cheek as he crushes the smaller woman in a hug.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well," Hermione replies, smiling up at the older man even though her cheeks flare red knowing Viktor has spoken about her. "Please call me Hermione."

"Only if you call me Nayden. Now how about I show you to young Viktor, I think we can call lunch a little early today." The older man holds out his arm and begins leading her into the stadium as soon as her hand finds the crook of his elbow.

"Oh, you don't have to do that. I'm perfectly fine with waiting, I don't want to interrupt your practice."

"Nonsense! It's not every day that a beautiful young lady comes baring a lovely picnic for one of our boys. Viktor's teammates will be jealous that it's him you're here for, their partner's rarely ever come down to the pitch to meet for lunch," Nayden brushes away her concerns. "My apologies for the loudness," the older man tells her once they are on the field before putting his fingers to his lips and letting out a shrill whistle.

Around twenty burly figures come barreling toward Hermione and Nayden but only one captures Hermione's attention and draws a smile on her lips: the familiar figure hurtling down from the highest height. A grin breaks out across Viktor's face the moment he sees her and he speeds up, dropping to the ground even more quickly and screeching to a stop next to the rest of his teammates.

"Boys, I'd like you to meet the lovely Hermione Granger. I expect we'll be seeing a lot of her in the foreseeable future. She is here to take Krum out to lunch so the rest of you have him to thank for your early break today. Now, let's let these two get on to their lunch. Be back in two hours or we'll be running extra laps after practice!"

Viktor was at my side, tucking my hair behind my ear, before any of his teammates had moved. "Hello, Mila."

"Hi."