no notes on the last two stories so I thought I'd make this one nice and long, first to get it over with JKR owns everything, secondly im glad you like it all the reviews have been muchly appreciated, along with the constructive critism (please keep that coming, it helps so much) so any suggestions that you have are great, leave them as reviews or email me. Hope you like it :O)
THE THIRD CAMP
CHAPTER VIII-- TWO DAYS PREVIOUS AND ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD
Two days previous and on the other side of the world, Viktor Krum was polishing his broomstick. It had never carried two before, but for an Quiddich World Cup quality broom, that seemed like a small feat. He had been planning it for weeks, a picnic in the mountains surrounding Drumstang, away from his parents, the village, the quiddich team, him and Hermione alone.
Alone was all he wanted to be with Hermione but, in the two weeks since she had arrived in Bulgaria, she had overtaken Viktor's usual role as village celebrity. Most of the villagers had never met a foreigner before and Herimone was accepted with open arms, accepted in truth meaning they never let her out of their sight.
"Well?" he heard a voice behind him and wheeling around Viktor knew he couldn't wipe the rare smile off his face.
"Herm-oh-ninny!"
"Her-my-oh-nee, oh never mind," her face broke into a smile to rival Viktor's.
Viktor swung the basket if food over his back, "Are you ready?"
She gave him a sly grin, "Of course." Sliding onto the broomstick Viktor felt her hands wrap around him waist. He smiled to himself as they kicked off into the crisp Bulgarian air, as the current star of the Quiddich world scene, he could have had any girl he wanted, but he was lucky, he had already found her.
----
The broom ride was not as idyllic as Viktor had planned, thought the broomstick flew like a charm. Herimone was unused to riding, and putting a damper on the situation, it had stated to rain. They landed under a tree just as the first crack of lightening split the sky. Hermione sat, blue-lipped and shivering, huddled against the trunk of a great pine. "Here," Viktor peeled off his jacket and passed it to her, "I am very sorry this is not vorking..."
"Oh Viktor," she gave one of her heartwarming smiles, "It's perfect. I like the rain even, in England we get it all the time."
"Incidio," Viktor muttered lazily, and a nearby log burst into flames. "At least ve are varm."
"We'll just ride it out," Herimone shrugged sitting down beside him, looking out over the valley. "Is
Drumstang down there-- sorry, I forgot you weren't supposed to say..."
"No it's all right," he said, "Its over there, on that mountain top, you can't see it from here the clouds are bewitched to hide the peak--"
"D'you like it?" she caught his hand, which was resting on the log. and shyly twined her fingers through his.
"Not as much as Hogwarts," he shrugged noncommittally, trying to suppress the urged to smile.
"You should come to England," she gave him a smile, "More regularly, I mean--"
"I have Quiddich here."
"Honestly!" she rolled her eyes, "You men and Quiddich!"
"Vat?" Viktor pulled away slightly, "You do not like it?'
"No I like it just fine, its only-- oh no--"
Viktor looked at her in alarm, "Vat is it? Did I do something--"
"No," her eyes were wide with unmistakable fear, "look!" Swirling above the clouds on the summit
that was home to Drumstang was a figure made out of smoke, smoke refusing to dissipate in the pelting shields of rain and blinding flashed of lightening. High above Drumstang circled the Dark Mark. Viktor's immediate thought was Herimone, "You have to get out of here--"
"Dumbledore," she said.
"Vat?"
"Professor Dumbledore, we have to tell him--"
"My owl is delivering a letter to Rolad--" Viktor shook his head.
"We have to go!" She looked at him, her brown eyes pleading, "It's the only way!"
"How?" Viktor shook his head, "You cannot apperate to England!"
Hermione fell silent for a few seconds, obviously thinking hard, "Your broom," she said finally.
"Vat? No!"
" Its international quality, isn't it-- and if we added a charm to increase its speed, and one for invisibility, yes! We're not in England so the underage wizardry laws don't apply, and not that it matters for you anyway, and oh I'm just babbling, but--"
Viktor stared at her, "You vant me to fly my broom, vith you on it, to Hogwarts?"
She stared back up at the sky, "Its the Dark Mark, Viktor. We have to stop him before he starts."
Viktor looked at his broom and saw an image he had tried to block from his mind all summer, Cedric in the throws of the Cruciatus Curse, his voice howling with pain, his eyes wide with shock.... and then, hours later, Cedric's body, dead...
He looked back up at the Dark Mark, but he had already made his decision.
----
The countrysides of Serbia, Slovenia, and Yugoslavia passed under them, growing into the forested hills of Hungary and Austria's great Alps. They had to stop once in Munich for food-- theirs was thoroughly waterlogged through and through-- before spending the night outside Zurich. The scenery was beautiful and the company... Viktor could have flown to Jamaica if Hermione was holding onto his waist. Viktor only began to regret his choice on the evening of the second day, they had just passed over Le Harve and were flying over the English Channel when the storm hit.
Storms at sea were bad enough, but storms at sea, while riding through the air on a broomstick were in another league altogether.
"Viktor!" Hermione yelled, her voice whipped away as soon as it reached his ears by the swirling winds and crashing thunder. It was impossible to see, the rain fell in pelting sheets, soaking them both and chilling them to the bone. The wind kept blowing the broom off course. The only time anything was visible was when lightening, in its red hot bolts of fire arched across the sky.
"Vat?" He tried to respond but it was hopeless trying to speak, the sounds of the wind and the thunder drowned out all other noise but nature's fury... except one...
Turning his head around at the unfamiliar noise, Viktor Krum almost fell off his broom. Behind his was one of the Muggle propeller planes heading right towards them. The pilots couldn't see them, due to the invisibility charm he had placed on the broom, but they could damn well feel them when they hit. Krum didn't know the survival rates for those who collided head on with planes, but he doubted it was very high. There was only one thing he could do. As if sensing his thoughts, Hermione's hands tightened about his waist. As the propeller's noise got louder and louder, Viktor fought to hold the broom steady, imagining a glimmer of gold on the angry waves below, and then-- he just dived.
The rain and wind and everything simply faded away as Viktor felt the air rush by him-- felt the wave of
adrenaline that hit him every time he mounted a broomstick, he was on top of the world-- not diving towards hell. The crowds roared-- he saw the snitch before him, lifted his hand off the broomstick, extended his arm...
...and caught a fistful of leaves. They must have been closer to land than he had judged. Hermione's screams filled his ears as, for the first time in his life, Viktor lost control of the broomstick, they flew mindlessly through the forest, hitting branches, spraying leaves, while the storm's fury rocked the air above them, Viktor reached in his jacket for his wand, anything-- there, he had it! He remembered thrusting both arms forward as the ground sped up beneath him, and became the only thing he saw.
----
Black.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, the affordable transport for any stranded with or wizard. I'm Stan, I'll be your conductor tonight--"
Viktor blinked, and opened his eyes as it all washed back to him, along with the aches and pains. The Dark Mark... the storm... Hermione...
To his relief he found her sitting a few paces from him, looking dazed but relatively unhurt.
"You're bleeding," he reached out and touched her cheek, which had been cut open by a passing tree limb.
"I'm fine," she smiled wryly, "So much for the broomstick."
"Blimey! It's Viktor Krum!" said a voice from above him, and for the first time Viktor realized they were being watched. "Ernie-- come here, you have to see this! This is better than Neville, this is! It's Viktor Krum!"
"Vho are you?" Viktor muttered, surprised.
"I'm Stan Shunpike, the conductor here at the Knight Bus, but I play Quiddich too-- chaser, I saw you, at the World Cup last year--"
"What's all the fuss, eh?" A second head popped out of an outrageously purple bus Viktor had just realized was parked two inched from his head.
"It's Viktor Krum!" Stan yelled, overjoyed.
"Honestly!" Hermione leapt up, glaring at the conductor. "We've just ridden on a broomstick all the way from Bulgaria-- flown through a storm over the English Channel, while being chased by a helicopter and had a two-hundred fall hall through a forest, and all you can talk about are Quiddich matches! We're bleeding! We're hurt! Help us!"
Stan blinked furiously, "Er... sorry--"
Hermione glowered, "How about, er... bandage?"
"Actually miss," said Ernie in a self-important tone, "This is the Knight Bus, we give transport to the stranded witch or wizard. You called us anyway."
"We did?" Hermione asked.
"All you do is extend you wand hand," Stan said.
"I did," Viktor sat up slowly, rubbing his head, "Vhen ve fell... Vhere is my broom?"
"It's still alive," Hermione held up the broomstick which Viktor hadn't even realized she was holding.
"D'you need us or not?" Stan said sulkily, obvious still smarting from Hermione's telling off.
"Can you take us to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.
"It'll be twenty-one sickles, but for twenty-four you get 'ot chocolate and a toothbrush--"
"Keep your ruddy toothbrush," she snapped as she dug into her pocket for the money.
"Little early to be goin' back to school, miss?" Ernie said as Viktor and Hermione sat down on one of the large brass beds.
"Doesn't 'Arry Potter go to 'Ogwarts?" Stan asked the driver.
"Yep," said Ernie.
Stan turned to Hermione and Viktor, "We had 'Arry Potter on our bus once, sat in the same bed as you
two, he did."
"What a... privilege," Hermione smiled sardonically.
"And now Viktor Krum! Can I 'ave your autograph?"
"Yes..." Viktor said shortly.
Stan pulled out a quill from his front pocket, "Hey Ernie, gimme your paper--" he grabbed the Daily Prophet and thrust it at Viktor. "Please sign along the top, if you would be so good--"
Hermione took a brief look at the paper and then screamed. Grabbing it out of Viktor's hands, she stared at the front page in utter dismay, "Oh no. She broke her promise!" Reading further Hermione's face began to pale, "I can't believe it, how could she do this?"
"Vat?" said Viktor, as bewildered as Stan and Ernie.
"We're not going to Hogwarts anymore--" Hermione snapped, "12 Rivermede Road, Exeter-- and hurry!"
----
Viktor had to autograph Stan's uniform before he'd let them keep the paper, he let them off-- rather reluctantly-- into a growing crowd of reporters that Hermione had feared she would fins, all clustered around Lupin's home.
"I vish you'd tell me vat's going on," Viktor said to Hermione once the outrageously purple bus had disappeared.
"There's no time," she looked at him, and Viktor felt a pang of regret, in a few minutes he would loose his
Herm-oh-ninny to her friends, teachers, parents, and he would have to wait, once again, for that precious alone. Touching her arm gently Viktor leaned forward, his lips touching hers for just the briefest second. before they met again-- in an instant that could last a lifetime, and even as they broke apart he could see the moment reflected in her eyes, feel it in his, "That was my first kiss," he murmured.
"Me too," she gave him one of the smiles he would die for, "Me too."
THE THIRD CAMP
CHAPTER VIII-- TWO DAYS PREVIOUS AND ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD
Two days previous and on the other side of the world, Viktor Krum was polishing his broomstick. It had never carried two before, but for an Quiddich World Cup quality broom, that seemed like a small feat. He had been planning it for weeks, a picnic in the mountains surrounding Drumstang, away from his parents, the village, the quiddich team, him and Hermione alone.
Alone was all he wanted to be with Hermione but, in the two weeks since she had arrived in Bulgaria, she had overtaken Viktor's usual role as village celebrity. Most of the villagers had never met a foreigner before and Herimone was accepted with open arms, accepted in truth meaning they never let her out of their sight.
"Well?" he heard a voice behind him and wheeling around Viktor knew he couldn't wipe the rare smile off his face.
"Herm-oh-ninny!"
"Her-my-oh-nee, oh never mind," her face broke into a smile to rival Viktor's.
Viktor swung the basket if food over his back, "Are you ready?"
She gave him a sly grin, "Of course." Sliding onto the broomstick Viktor felt her hands wrap around him waist. He smiled to himself as they kicked off into the crisp Bulgarian air, as the current star of the Quiddich world scene, he could have had any girl he wanted, but he was lucky, he had already found her.
----
The broom ride was not as idyllic as Viktor had planned, thought the broomstick flew like a charm. Herimone was unused to riding, and putting a damper on the situation, it had stated to rain. They landed under a tree just as the first crack of lightening split the sky. Hermione sat, blue-lipped and shivering, huddled against the trunk of a great pine. "Here," Viktor peeled off his jacket and passed it to her, "I am very sorry this is not vorking..."
"Oh Viktor," she gave one of her heartwarming smiles, "It's perfect. I like the rain even, in England we get it all the time."
"Incidio," Viktor muttered lazily, and a nearby log burst into flames. "At least ve are varm."
"We'll just ride it out," Herimone shrugged sitting down beside him, looking out over the valley. "Is
Drumstang down there-- sorry, I forgot you weren't supposed to say..."
"No it's all right," he said, "Its over there, on that mountain top, you can't see it from here the clouds are bewitched to hide the peak--"
"D'you like it?" she caught his hand, which was resting on the log. and shyly twined her fingers through his.
"Not as much as Hogwarts," he shrugged noncommittally, trying to suppress the urged to smile.
"You should come to England," she gave him a smile, "More regularly, I mean--"
"I have Quiddich here."
"Honestly!" she rolled her eyes, "You men and Quiddich!"
"Vat?" Viktor pulled away slightly, "You do not like it?'
"No I like it just fine, its only-- oh no--"
Viktor looked at her in alarm, "Vat is it? Did I do something--"
"No," her eyes were wide with unmistakable fear, "look!" Swirling above the clouds on the summit
that was home to Drumstang was a figure made out of smoke, smoke refusing to dissipate in the pelting shields of rain and blinding flashed of lightening. High above Drumstang circled the Dark Mark. Viktor's immediate thought was Herimone, "You have to get out of here--"
"Dumbledore," she said.
"Vat?"
"Professor Dumbledore, we have to tell him--"
"My owl is delivering a letter to Rolad--" Viktor shook his head.
"We have to go!" She looked at him, her brown eyes pleading, "It's the only way!"
"How?" Viktor shook his head, "You cannot apperate to England!"
Hermione fell silent for a few seconds, obviously thinking hard, "Your broom," she said finally.
"Vat? No!"
" Its international quality, isn't it-- and if we added a charm to increase its speed, and one for invisibility, yes! We're not in England so the underage wizardry laws don't apply, and not that it matters for you anyway, and oh I'm just babbling, but--"
Viktor stared at her, "You vant me to fly my broom, vith you on it, to Hogwarts?"
She stared back up at the sky, "Its the Dark Mark, Viktor. We have to stop him before he starts."
Viktor looked at his broom and saw an image he had tried to block from his mind all summer, Cedric in the throws of the Cruciatus Curse, his voice howling with pain, his eyes wide with shock.... and then, hours later, Cedric's body, dead...
He looked back up at the Dark Mark, but he had already made his decision.
----
The countrysides of Serbia, Slovenia, and Yugoslavia passed under them, growing into the forested hills of Hungary and Austria's great Alps. They had to stop once in Munich for food-- theirs was thoroughly waterlogged through and through-- before spending the night outside Zurich. The scenery was beautiful and the company... Viktor could have flown to Jamaica if Hermione was holding onto his waist. Viktor only began to regret his choice on the evening of the second day, they had just passed over Le Harve and were flying over the English Channel when the storm hit.
Storms at sea were bad enough, but storms at sea, while riding through the air on a broomstick were in another league altogether.
"Viktor!" Hermione yelled, her voice whipped away as soon as it reached his ears by the swirling winds and crashing thunder. It was impossible to see, the rain fell in pelting sheets, soaking them both and chilling them to the bone. The wind kept blowing the broom off course. The only time anything was visible was when lightening, in its red hot bolts of fire arched across the sky.
"Vat?" He tried to respond but it was hopeless trying to speak, the sounds of the wind and the thunder drowned out all other noise but nature's fury... except one...
Turning his head around at the unfamiliar noise, Viktor Krum almost fell off his broom. Behind his was one of the Muggle propeller planes heading right towards them. The pilots couldn't see them, due to the invisibility charm he had placed on the broom, but they could damn well feel them when they hit. Krum didn't know the survival rates for those who collided head on with planes, but he doubted it was very high. There was only one thing he could do. As if sensing his thoughts, Hermione's hands tightened about his waist. As the propeller's noise got louder and louder, Viktor fought to hold the broom steady, imagining a glimmer of gold on the angry waves below, and then-- he just dived.
The rain and wind and everything simply faded away as Viktor felt the air rush by him-- felt the wave of
adrenaline that hit him every time he mounted a broomstick, he was on top of the world-- not diving towards hell. The crowds roared-- he saw the snitch before him, lifted his hand off the broomstick, extended his arm...
...and caught a fistful of leaves. They must have been closer to land than he had judged. Hermione's screams filled his ears as, for the first time in his life, Viktor lost control of the broomstick, they flew mindlessly through the forest, hitting branches, spraying leaves, while the storm's fury rocked the air above them, Viktor reached in his jacket for his wand, anything-- there, he had it! He remembered thrusting both arms forward as the ground sped up beneath him, and became the only thing he saw.
----
Black.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, the affordable transport for any stranded with or wizard. I'm Stan, I'll be your conductor tonight--"
Viktor blinked, and opened his eyes as it all washed back to him, along with the aches and pains. The Dark Mark... the storm... Hermione...
To his relief he found her sitting a few paces from him, looking dazed but relatively unhurt.
"You're bleeding," he reached out and touched her cheek, which had been cut open by a passing tree limb.
"I'm fine," she smiled wryly, "So much for the broomstick."
"Blimey! It's Viktor Krum!" said a voice from above him, and for the first time Viktor realized they were being watched. "Ernie-- come here, you have to see this! This is better than Neville, this is! It's Viktor Krum!"
"Vho are you?" Viktor muttered, surprised.
"I'm Stan Shunpike, the conductor here at the Knight Bus, but I play Quiddich too-- chaser, I saw you, at the World Cup last year--"
"What's all the fuss, eh?" A second head popped out of an outrageously purple bus Viktor had just realized was parked two inched from his head.
"It's Viktor Krum!" Stan yelled, overjoyed.
"Honestly!" Hermione leapt up, glaring at the conductor. "We've just ridden on a broomstick all the way from Bulgaria-- flown through a storm over the English Channel, while being chased by a helicopter and had a two-hundred fall hall through a forest, and all you can talk about are Quiddich matches! We're bleeding! We're hurt! Help us!"
Stan blinked furiously, "Er... sorry--"
Hermione glowered, "How about, er... bandage?"
"Actually miss," said Ernie in a self-important tone, "This is the Knight Bus, we give transport to the stranded witch or wizard. You called us anyway."
"We did?" Hermione asked.
"All you do is extend you wand hand," Stan said.
"I did," Viktor sat up slowly, rubbing his head, "Vhen ve fell... Vhere is my broom?"
"It's still alive," Hermione held up the broomstick which Viktor hadn't even realized she was holding.
"D'you need us or not?" Stan said sulkily, obvious still smarting from Hermione's telling off.
"Can you take us to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.
"It'll be twenty-one sickles, but for twenty-four you get 'ot chocolate and a toothbrush--"
"Keep your ruddy toothbrush," she snapped as she dug into her pocket for the money.
"Little early to be goin' back to school, miss?" Ernie said as Viktor and Hermione sat down on one of the large brass beds.
"Doesn't 'Arry Potter go to 'Ogwarts?" Stan asked the driver.
"Yep," said Ernie.
Stan turned to Hermione and Viktor, "We had 'Arry Potter on our bus once, sat in the same bed as you
two, he did."
"What a... privilege," Hermione smiled sardonically.
"And now Viktor Krum! Can I 'ave your autograph?"
"Yes..." Viktor said shortly.
Stan pulled out a quill from his front pocket, "Hey Ernie, gimme your paper--" he grabbed the Daily Prophet and thrust it at Viktor. "Please sign along the top, if you would be so good--"
Hermione took a brief look at the paper and then screamed. Grabbing it out of Viktor's hands, she stared at the front page in utter dismay, "Oh no. She broke her promise!" Reading further Hermione's face began to pale, "I can't believe it, how could she do this?"
"Vat?" said Viktor, as bewildered as Stan and Ernie.
"We're not going to Hogwarts anymore--" Hermione snapped, "12 Rivermede Road, Exeter-- and hurry!"
----
Viktor had to autograph Stan's uniform before he'd let them keep the paper, he let them off-- rather reluctantly-- into a growing crowd of reporters that Hermione had feared she would fins, all clustered around Lupin's home.
"I vish you'd tell me vat's going on," Viktor said to Hermione once the outrageously purple bus had disappeared.
"There's no time," she looked at him, and Viktor felt a pang of regret, in a few minutes he would loose his
Herm-oh-ninny to her friends, teachers, parents, and he would have to wait, once again, for that precious alone. Touching her arm gently Viktor leaned forward, his lips touching hers for just the briefest second. before they met again-- in an instant that could last a lifetime, and even as they broke apart he could see the moment reflected in her eyes, feel it in his, "That was my first kiss," he murmured.
"Me too," she gave him one of the smiles he would die for, "Me too."