Summary: Harry Potter falls during the Battle of Hogwarts. For Viktor Krum, no sacrifice is too great to ensure Hermione Granger's safety in the aftermath. Warning: Character deaths. Drabble series. WIP.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is (c) J.K. Rowling and various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books in association with Warner Bros. Entertainment.

UNWAVERING DEVOTION

14

"You're staring," Hermione accused.

Viktor could not deny the truth of the statement.

She fretfully carded her fingers through her hair. "Does it look that bad?"

"No, no." This he could deny. "You look stunning."

In Viktor's absence, Hermione had styled her hair into a short, flattering cut that accentuated her delicate features. He took in her large brown eyes, high cheek bones and pert nose that were dusted with freckles, and bow-shaped lips. The cut showcased what Viktor already knew; she was beautiful. It was a beauty that many missed because they were too distracted by her forthright personality and onetime wild mane.

Viktor never missed a thing when it came to Hermione.

"You remind me of a samodiva that I saw in a picture book as a child," he reminisced.

"A samodiva?"

"A voodland fairy," he explained. "Any man who gazes upon a samodiva instantly falls in love. They are said to become infatuated and incapable of thinking of anything else, forever seeking and relentlessly chasing after the samodiva, their unrequited love..."

Hermione's brows knit. "That sounds like a horrible fate."

Viktor was discomfited by the sudden kinship he felt to these lovelorn men. With a shake of the head, he feigned a smile. "Yes."

She was oblivious to his inner turmoil. "So, did everything go smoothly at the Ministry?"

"At the Ministry?" he stipulated. "Yes, everything vent smoothly. The portkey vill be available tomorrow morning at half past seven."

Hermione caught the specification and gave him a considering look. "You're not telling me something."

Viktor uneasily rubbed at the back of his neck. "After I left the Ministry, I had a run-in with Dolohov."

She whitened at the revelation, eyes frantically scanning him for any sign of injury. "You're unhurt?"

"Yes, Hermy-own-ninny," he reassured. "There vere no curses thrown... at least not at me."

"What do you mean?"

Viktor moved nearer and she did not resist when he encircled her with his arms.

Hermione buried her face in his broad chest, causing her next words to be muffled. "You're making me anxious. Was someone else hurt?"

"No," he soothed. "No one vos hurt today."

"Thank goodness."

Viktor figured the best approach was to be direct. "Shtastie moe, ve need to talk about the curse Dolohov hit you vith in your fifth year."

She startled. "Wh... why? It happened a long time ago."

"You said it yourself, Dolohov is obsessed about your having survived the curse. It's imperative that ve understand the curse and vot motivates this obsession."

He could sense her reluctance to discuss Dolohov and the curse, but she acquiesced. "I don't know what the curse was, it was nonverbal. We assumed it was of his own creation. All I can recollect is the slash of his wand and a streak of purple flame, then nothing. I woke up in the infirmary in immense pain and was told that I was lucky to be alive. There was a great deal of internal damage and the only reason I survived was because the curse's incantation hadn't been spoken. I had to take ten potions a day and was on bedrest for weeks..."

Viktor strengthened his hold. "You didn't share this in your letters."

"I didn't want to worry you," she weakly defended.

"You think I didn't vorry anyvay? Every day that ve vere apart?" he pressed, unable to keep the censure from his tone. "And in the future, vill I have to vonder if you are hiding things from me, important things, so I von't vorry?"

"Oh, no, Viktor. I promise-"

"Yes, promise me, Hermy-own-ninny," Viktor interjected. "Promise me there vill be no other secrets. Promise me and I vill believe..."

She met his eyes, completely genuine. "I promise."

"You could have died," he choked.

"But I didn't," she consoled, eyes now glistening.

Viktor felt awful making her relive the trauma, but could not let his sentimentality overrule his sensibility. "Did Dolohov's curse have any long-term effects?"

"It aches on occasion and there's a scar..."

He noted how she trailed off, as if she was going to say more but couldn't bring herself to speak the words.

"No secrets, Hermy-own-ninny. Remember?"

"I don't know for sure..."

"But you suspect..."

"It's just conjecture on my part," she hedged.

"Tell me anyvay," Viktor stubbornly insisted.

Hermione sagged in defeat. "Have you ever heard of a Horcrux?"

TO BE CONTINUED