Moody Slavic Man Part 6: Rescuing Her

Author's Note: None of this belongs to me. This story is based on Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J.K. Rowling and will feature "offstage scenes" as well as scenes from the book reinterpreted from Viktor's point of view. (This is a companion piece to "Hermione's Fourth Year".)

Something weird happened when I posted Part 4 and it got posted twice (as Chapters 4 and 5), so I don't think the Author Alert ever went out properly for Part 5. If you haven't read that yet, please go read it first, or what follows will make very little sense. J

Special thanks to Jedi Boadicea and Arabella for talking me through various parts of this chapter. Thanks also to smoke and Vee for helping with the Latin translation. For betareading, I give monstrous thanks once again to Zsenya and Arabella.

Moody Slavic Man

By Elanor Gamgee

Part 6: Rescuing Her

Viktor pushed open the library doors and moved inside. There she was, at a table with Potter and the other boy. All three of them were bent over thick books, and didn't look up at the sound of the door swinging shut behind him. Viktor stood there uncertainly for a moment, wondering whether he should approach her, and then felt the librarian's curious stare upon him. He tore his gaze away from the table and walked quickly over behind a row of bookshelves, where he didn't feel quite so exposed.

Viktor removed a few books from a shelf at his eye level so that he could see her table. She was still bent over a book, running her quill down the page with an absorbed look on her face. He knew that, had he been a bit closer, he would have seen her lips pursed together in concentration.

Viktor sighed inwardly. He knew he shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be bothering her when she was so busy. But he hadn't had a real talk with her in weeks, and today, he had just felt…he needed to check on her. Ever since he had realized that she might have a role in the second task, his Transfiguration practices had been fueled with a new sense of urgency. The task would take place the following morning. He knew that it was unlikely she would be in any real danger, but the thought of her going through anything unpleasant because of his feelings for her left him with a slightly sick sensation. Maybe he had come here today to reassure her…or maybe he had come to reassure himself.

Viktor watched as she shut the book she was holding and got to her feet. She said something to her friends, moved an enormous stack of books to an empty table, and then set off down a row of bookshelves.

Viktor's heart rose. Maybe he would have a chance to talk to her after all. He quietly moved to the end of the aisle and across the back of the library, looking down each row of bookshelves to see if she was there.

He found her in the very back corner of the library, in the Charms section. She was halfway down the aisle, standing on her tiptoes and reaching for a book on the top shelf.

Viktor stepped up behind her and pulled the book from the shelf. She spun around quickly and crashed into him, losing her balance. Instinctively, Viktor grasped her arm to steady her. She looked up at him with a startled expression, then straightened quickly and took a small step backwards.

Viktor let go of her arm reluctantly. It had been an oddly thrilling sensation, having her lean against him like that; it made him think of dancing with her at the Yule Ball.

She was looking at him now, waiting for him to speak, and Viktor struggled for something normal to say. Then he remembered the book in his hand, and offered it to her. "Your book," he said, attempting a smile. He wished, for a moment, that he could handle these sorts of awkward situations the way Pashnik did, with an easy grin and a joke.

"Oh! Thanks!" she said a bit breathlessly, taking the book from him and staring down at it. He wondered briefly at her choice of reading material—Hexes That Perplex Us? What on earth was she studying?—but then he glanced at the top of her head, all that was visible as she continued to look down at the book in her hands, and he remembered why he was here. He had to let her know, somehow, that she was going to be fine—that, no matter what happened the next morning, he would come for her.

But he didn't know how to begin. Finally, he burst out, "I have missed our talks."

She fidgeted slightly, then looked up at him. "Well, you know," she said, "I've been really busy with schoolwork…Ron and Harry too…"

Viktor frowned; this wasn't going the way he'd planned at all. He glanced at the window. It was a bright, clear afternoon. Maybe if he took her for a walk around the lake…maybe if he got her out of this place, then they could really talk.

Viktor took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. "It is a beautiful afternoon," he said, his voice low. "Would you like to go for a walk with me?"

She looked startled, and glanced back along the row of bookshelves—back, Viktor realized, to where her friends were sitting. "Er…no, I'm sorry, I can't. We...I mean, I've got so much work to do, I really can't right now…maybe another time?" Her tone was genuinely apologetic, but Viktor couldn't help frowning. How was he ever going to tell her what he needed to say?

He found himself nodding, saying, "Of course. Another time." He hadn't wanted to say this at all, but he couldn't seem to help giving her whatever she wanted.

She gave him a half-smile. "Well, see you later then," she said, turning away from him. Viktor watched her with a sinking feeling as she went down the aisle and around the corner. How did he ever think he was going to succeed at this task, when he couldn't even tell her what he had come to say? He stood staring at the place where she had disappeared, then turned and made his way along the back wall of the library, emerging from behind the row of bookshelves where he had watched the table earlier. He saw her sitting once again at the table with her friends. He caught her eye and nodded, and received a brief smile in return. In spite of himself, he felt a sudden warmth flow through him at the smile, even though she looked away quickly as Potter spoke up and drew her attention onto himself.

Viktor scowled and exited the library. He moved down the corridor, toward the castle doors. Now what was he supposed to do? He had been sure that seeing her would alleviate his nerves, but now he only felt worse. He hadn't managed to really talk with her at all. But he knew that her schoolwork was important to her—after all, wasn't that one of the things that had attracted him to her in the first place? But what could be so important today? He felt a small flash of resentment. What had she and her friends been working on, that she couldn't even take a short break to spend some time with him? After all, he had been focused on nothing but preparing for this task, to save her…

Viktor froze on the stone steps outside the castle. Had she been helping Potter? Was that the reason she had been working so hard lately, and had been so eager to get back to her friends?

Viktor shook his head and continued walking, disgusted with himself for thinking such a thing. She would never cheat—he knew that. In fact, he thought with a wince, he sincerely hoped she would never find out about the warning he had received from Karkaroff before the first task. He felt sure she would never approve.

Perhaps it is better that I could not talk to her properly, he thought. Perhaps she would consider even that much cheating…

But that still didn't lessen the sick feeling in his stomach as he thought of her, taken by the merpeople for him to rescue. There had to be a way he could reassure her without saying too much.

He would write to her, he decided as he reached his cabin. He would tell her what he needed to say, without giving away specifics. Yes, that would work.

Viktor pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, and sat down at his desk. The quill hovered over the parchment for several minutes as he thought, and then he finally began writing.

Dear Hermione,

I am writing to tell you that everything will be fine. No matter what happens, I will come for you. Do not worry.

He agonized for a bit over the signature before finally writing

Love,

Viktor

He planned to tell her all those things after the second task anyway, he reasoned. What difference would it make to say that now?

Viktor rolled up the parchment and took it up on deck to the ship's small Owlery, an open pavilion where the owls liked to shelter. He found one of his own owls, a large gray one, and tied the parchment to its leg. "Urgent," he muttered, "Take it right away."

The owl gave him a piercing look, and then took flight. Rather than setting a straight course for the castle, the owl soared up toward the topmast and circled in the breeze. Probably just enjoying stretching its wings, Viktor thought. He could understand that. He thought of his many missed morning flights with a pang, and resolved to get up early and fly the next morning before the task. He was as prepared as he could be. He was ready. Smiling, he pictured himself pulling her from the water, and her looking at him gratefully. He would ask her to visit him in Bulgaria tomorrow. He would tell her exactly how he felt.

*************************************

The water in the lake was murky—Viktor didn't remember it ever being so murky during his practice sessions. But he was doing fine. He had managed the transformation without any problems, and was now slicing through the water towards the center of the lake. He couldn't see any of the other champions anywhere.

A shape loomed up ahead of him, and, as he moved closer, he saw that it was a rock formation that jutted straight up out of the lake bottom like a sword. It was almost like a signpost, except that there were no signs telling him which way to go. Viktor paused, allowing his shark body to sink a bit in the water as he considered. Which way should he go now?

And then he heard it, unmistakable and clear. A voice. Her voice. "Viktor!" she called distantly from his right. "Viktor!"

Viktor sped off to the right of the rock towards the sound. She was there—he had to find her. He cut through the water smoothly, heading directly for the sound drawing him on. Her voice rang through the water, calling his name over and over again.

The sound seemed so close now, yet he didn't see her. Where was she? He turned around frantically, straining the shark's tiny eyes in all directions. And then he looked straight down.

He could just make her out, inside what looked like an enormously deep pit in the lake bottom. She was standing and waving to him, beckoning him wildly. Viktor dived down to her, and saw, as he approached, that two other figures were with her. Her two friends. Of course. They were never far away, it seemed. The two boys were sitting on a rock, chatting unconcernedly and not seeming to even notice that they were underwater.

She beamed at him as he swam down next to her. "You came!" she said delightedly. "I wanted to show you this new spell I learned. It's a love charm." She pulled an enormous book out from her robes and began flipping through the pages.

"Hermione," said Viktor, knowing he was pronouncing it correctly this time. "We need to leave." He didn't know how he managed to speak in the shark's form, but she seemed to understand him. She looked up at him and smiled.

"All right," she said, turning to her friends. "Come on, we're leaving." The two boys stood up and came to stand next to her, looking at Viktor expectantly.

Viktor looked from her to her friends uncertainly. She smiled at him again. "You'll have to take all three of us," she said sweetly.

Viktor reached out his fins and put them around her, but they had become arms now. He lifted her and began swimming. The two boys grabbed his tail as he swam up out of the pit, weighing him down. Involuntary, he jerked, remembered the Grindylow he had encountered in his practice session. One of the boys slipped and floated back down into the pit. She shrieked in his ear. Viktor jerked again, not meaning to—or did he?—and the second boy went spiraling off through the water, back down into the pit.

"No!" she screamed, beating her fists against him. "Go back! We have to go back! I'll miss them the most!" And she tore herself out of his grasp, diving back into the pit toward the boys.

Viktor called out her name, but no matter how many times he tried, he couldn't pronounce it right. She dove without looking back, ignoring his calls, until she was completely lost to his sight.

He looked down and saw a book in his hands, the one she had pulled from her robes. The cover was dark and slimy. He wiped away the grime, and read the gilt lettering: Amicitia Amoris Certissima Pars. He stared at it the phrase, sure that he knew what it meant, and yet unable to decipher it.

Viktor sat up in bed with a jolt. The barest hint of dawn was shining in through the portholes. Viktor struggled to hold on to the images in his dream, but they slipped away before he could fix them in his memory. He was left with an inexplicable feeling of unease as he turned over and fell back into a shallow sleep.

**********************************

Viktor eyed the platters of eggs, bacon, and sausage in front of him with disgust. He felt quite certain that he would not be able to eat a thing this morning. He had wakened early to spend some time flying, thinking that it would calm his nerves, but he still felt tense and anxious. This was much worse than any pre-match nerves he had ever experienced playing Quidditch.

"The day has arrived!" sang out a familiar voice, and Pashnik dropped into the chair next to him. Edina was right behind Pashnik, and sat down on his other side. The two of them had been nearly inseparable ever since Pashnik had sent her elaborate bunches of flowers and singing fairies during every one of her classes on Valentine's Day.

Viktor sighed, reminding himself that he really must stop leaving empty seats next to him at the table.

Pashnik leaned over to him conspiratorially. "Nervous?" he said in a mock-serious tone. Viktor merely gave him a look. Pashnik grinned and started piling food on his plate.

Viktor looked at the sausages again, wondering if he could manage to eat one without throwing up. He heard his mother's voice in his head: Viktor, eat! You need your strength! He knew it was true.

At that moment, Edina looked up from the whispered conversation she had been having with Pashnik and said, "Viktor, eat something! You need a good breakfast today."

Viktor stared at her in surprise. She rarely, if ever, spoke to him, so hearing an order like that was especially odd. It was almost as if his mother was speaking to him through Edina.

Edina, however, was holding out a platter to him with an expectant, almost fierce, expression on her face, so Viktor thought it best to take a few slices of toast without complaint. Edina nodded in satisfaction, and Viktor saw Pashnik grinning at her.

Viktor chewed his toast thoughtfully as the two of them returned to their hushed conversation. The noise in the Great Hall was mounting steadily, and there was a palpable excitement in the air. Viktor wished he could share in it.

He looked over at the Gryffindor table, but she wasn't there. Viktor's stomach knotted, though he had known that she wouldn't be there, hadn't he? His eyes swept the length of the Gryffindor table, and he noted with dismay that Potter and the red-haired boy appeared to be absent as well. For some reason, this fact made him uneasy. Something niggled at the back of his brain—what was it?

"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed the Hogwarts Headmaster's voice from the front of the hall. Viktor looked down and realized that the plates had wiped themselves clean. He stuffed the last bit of toast he was holding into his mouth and turned to face Dumbledore with everyone else.

"In a few moments, it will be time for us to go watch the second task of the Triwizard Tournament." A storm of cheering and clapping greeted this announcement. Dumbledore waited for it to subside. "I must now ask the champions to follow Mr. Bagman down to the site of the task. If you would, Mr. Krum, Miss Delacour, Mr. Diggory, Mr. Potter—" Dumbledore's eyes fell on the Gryffindor table, and he frowned slightly. No one else seemed to notice this, as they were too busy applauding the three champions who were making their way to the back of the hall.

Viktor tried to ignore all the people watching him as he approached Mr. Bagman, who was beaming at the three of them. Mr. Bagman led the champions out into the Entrance Hall, talking all the way.

"…this is exciting, isn't it? This is going to be a show, no doubt of that. Now, now, where is Harry?" He stopped and looked around expectantly, as though he thought one of them was hiding Potter in their robes. No one said anything. Fleur Delacour looked around with a haughty smile, while Diggory looked slightly concerned.

Bagman's face fell. "Well," he said, now sounding distracted, "well…I suppose we'll just have to go down there…perhaps he'll turn up…" He turned and led the three of them out through the front doors and down toward the lake. They passed the Durmstrang ship and continued around to where the lake widened. Enormous stands had been set up for the spectators, and Viktor idly wondered what, if anything, the crowd would be able to see during the task. Bagman stopped in front of a gold-draped table with several benches set up next to it.

"I see that none of you are surprised to find yourselves here," said Bagman with a chuckle, looking around at them. "I take it you all worked out the clues in your golden eggs. But I think we will have a surprise for each of you today."

Viktor clenched his jaw, more certain than ever that he had been correct about what had been taken. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair and gave Bagman an indulgent smile. "Meester Bagman, don't be silly. We know what we are doing."

Viktor looked over at Diggory, who was watching the lake with a serious expression. He wondered briefly whether any of the other champions had come to the same conclusion he had.

Bagman took out a large gold pocket watch decorated with a raised wasp on the front and opened it. "The judges and the spectators will be here in a few minutes. We'll go over the instructions before the task starts. Now, where is Mr. Potter?" Bagman wandered off, muttering under his breath.

Fleur Delacour seated herself on one of the benches and idly twirled her wand between her fingers. Diggory looked over at Viktor and grinned.

"Nice of him to give us so much information," he said, nodding toward Bagman's retreating back. Viktor nodded in response. Diggory frowned. "I wonder where Harry is, though," he said. "It's weird that he's not here."

Viktor grunted. He didn't much care where Potter was, as long as he wasn't—Viktor felt another prickle of unease, and pushed it away with a frown. He became aware that Diggory was giving him an odd look, and he straightened up and cast around for something to say.

"I heard about the Transfiguration you did during the first task," said Viktor. "I was told that you did well."

Fleur Delacour stopped twirling her wand and flashed a dazzling smile at Diggory. "I heard zat it was vairy impressive," she purred, causing Diggory to turn pink.

"Well, it didn't work as well as it could have," he said to Viktor. "Not like you with the Conjunctivitis Curse—I wish I had thought of that—or Harry on his broomstick…oh look, here they come!" Diggory pointed up toward the castle.

Viktor turned and saw masses of people coming toward the lake. He realized with a jolt that he should be preparing. He stretched his arms high above his head, the way he did before matches, hoping it would help alleviate the sick feeling in his stomach. It didn't.

People were pouring into the stands now, and the sound of the crowd was almost deafening. Viktor saw the judges taking their places at the table with the golden cloth. Karkaroff was eyeing him with an inscrutable expression. Viktor looked away quickly and began taking off his robes. He was wearing his swim trunks underneath.

Viktor could still feel Karkaroff's eyes on him as he folded his robes and placed them on the bench, but a moment later, his attention was diverted by Bagman. The round-faced man hurried forward, muttering something about Potter under his breath, then tapped his throat with his wand, saying "Sonorus!" His voice blared out across the lake, and the crowds in the stands quieted to listen.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Bagman bellowed. "Welcome to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament! Our champions are in for a real challenge today! As you may remember, each champion obtained a golden egg in the first task. Inside each of those eggs was the clue to the second task. Today we will see just how well each champion deciphered the clues and prepared for the task!" The crowd cheered with excitement, and Bagman smiled broadly before going on. "Each champion's task is very specific: to take back what was taken from him or her by the merpeople, the thing that each champion will miss the most. I will now announce what each champion must retrieve."

Viktor shifted slightly. He hadn't realized that Bagman was going to announce this in front of everyone, though he supposed he should have. The man seemed to adore drama of all kinds. Viktor glanced at the other two champions beside him, wondering if they realized what was coming.

"Miss Delacour," Bagman pronounced, "will be attempting to rescue her sister, Gabrielle Delacour." Fleur Delacour stared at Bagman in horror, her earlier composure completely lost. Bagman continued, "Mr. Diggory will be attempting to rescue fellow Hogwarts student Cho Chang." The crowd, which had previously lapsed into a sort of shocked silence, now burst into giggles and catcalls. Diggory, however, was looking at Bagman blankly, as though he didn't believe what he was hearing. "Mr. Krum," Bagman went on, "will be attempting to rescue Hogwarts student Hermione Granger."

Even though he had known it, even though he had figured it out ten days ago, Viktor insides still gave a lurch to hear it announced like that. Viktor nodded and stared down at his wand, trying to ignore the "ooohs" and "awwws" coming from the stands, as well as the piercing look that he knew that Karkaroff was directing at him.

It was something of a relief when Bagman continued. "And Mr. Potter," he said, looking around hopelessly, "if he should decide to join us…er…yes, well, perhaps he'll turn up. Anyway, Mr. Potter will be attempting to rescue fellow Hogwarts student Ronald Weasley." The crowd really did go wild at this, bursting into laughter and even more boisterous catcalls. Bagman raised his hand, and the sound died out. "Right then, well, each champion will have to rescue his or her hostage in—" Viktor cringed at the choice of word. "Oh, I say, what's this?" said Bagman suddenly. "Oh, right-oh, it's Mr. Potter!"

Viktor turned to see Potter sprinting down the wide sloping lawn toward the lake. His robes billowed out behind him, and his hair was sticking up at odd angles. He looked like he had just woken up.

"Quietus," Bagman muttered behind Viktor as Potter came to a stop, splattering mud everywhere.

One of the judges—the one taking Mr. Crouch's place—said something to Potter that Viktor didn't catch. He was too busy trying to figure out why he felt relieved to see Potter there. Viktor frowned to himself. What was wrong with him this morning?

He didn't have time to dwell on it, however, as Bagman was now directing the champions to stand at intervals along the bank. Viktor took a deep breath and held his wand ready. He knew he could do this. He had to.

Bagman tapped his throat with his wand again, saying "Sonorus." His magically magnified voice rang out over the lake once more. "Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One…two…three!"

And the whistle sounded through the cold morning air. The crowd's cheering faded as Viktor plunged into the lake, the icy water clearing his mind immediately. He knew what he had to do, and he was determined to do it.

Viktor swam out a little way, surfaced, and then turned his wand on himself. "Mutare Pistrix!" he said, concentrating with all his might. He held his breath for a moment, then with relief felt the familiar lengthening of his head. He heard gasps coming from the stands, but they faded quickly as he plunged his head back under the water. He tucked his wand into the waistband of his swimming trunks—he had learned, after the incident with the Grindylow, not to let go of it so easily. His legs and arms were snapping to his sides now, smoothing into the shark's sleek body. He had done it.

Viktor felt a wave of triumph as he plunged forward through the water. Now, he only had to find the mer-village. He had done some research, and had decided that the village must lie far out near the part of the lake that skirted the Forbidden Forest. He headed in that direction, letting the shark's heightened senses guide him through the water.

He swam through what looked like an underwater meadow, filled with some green weed. He could see a few Grindylows moving far below him, but none of them approached. If Viktor still had his tongue, he would have stuck it out at them as he passed overhead. His heart felt lighter than it had all morning.

Viktor continued swimming in a straight line, passing over a wide muddy plain. Here and there glittering stones winked up at him from the much-covered bottom. Schools of silver fish scattered as he approached.

Suddenly a long tentacle came out of nowhere and wrapped around his middle. Viktor found himself being turned this way and that through the water. He caught a glimpse of two enormous green eyes, and knew immediately that he had fallen into the clutches of the giant squid.

Viktor had never seen the creature before, but he had heard about it. Draco Malfoy had held forth for an entire meal about the dangers of the giant squid, warning the Durmstrang students to stay away from it. Supposedly, it had eaten an unfortunate first-year student the year before. At the time, Viktor had been doubtful about these claims, but now, in the creature's grip, he believed every word.

He had to get to his wand, and the only way to do that was to transform back. He focused his concentration as best he could while being spun through the water like a top. Slowly, his back fins turned into feet. Then he could feel his legs emerging, and the change moved up his body with rapid tingle. His stomach and chest were back to normal now, and he could feel his wand in the waistband of his swimming trunks where he had left it. The squid's tentacles were squeezing it against his ribs. He struggled to stop the transformation there, knowing that he would be unable to breathe without the shark's head and gills. Professor McGonagall had told his class that partial Transfiguration was much more difficult once you had managed the full version; it required incredible discipline of thought to picture the transfiguration only until the part you wanted changed had finished, and not the whole thing. It was something like the old saying, "Don't think about pink Erumpents"—once the listener heard this, it was difficult to think of anything else.

Viktor struggled to picture anything else aside from himself turning back to normal. This job was made much easier a moment later, as the squid brought another tentacle to his stomach. Viktor realized suddenly that the thing was tickling him. He writhed in its grasp, trying to get away from the relentless sensation, but the squid held him tightly. Had he been on land relying on his normal manner of breathing, Viktor knew that he would be gasping with laughter. But the shark's gills continued to draw oxygen from the water passing through them, and it was this that allowed Viktor the strength to slide his wand out and point it at the squid.

"Relashio!" he shouted—or at least, he tried to shout it, but all that came out was a small bubble. It had some effect, however, as a jet of water shot out of his wand and hit the tentacle that was tickling him. The squid dropped him--more, it seemed, out of surprise than pain. Viktor kicked hard at the water, attempting to rise up and away from the monstrous creature, but it wrapped another slimy tentacle around his foot. Viktor writhed again as the thing tickled the bottom of his foot. He aimed his wand at the thing's head this time and sent another jet of water at it. The creature shuddered and let go, then it wrapped its long tentacles around its head and floated away through the water. It reminded Viktor of nothing so much as a child pouting after being deprived a favorite plaything.

Viktor quickly swam in the opposite direction until he could no longer see the squid. He stopped and circled in the water, now completely uncertain of where he was. He had no idea which direction he had been heading in before his encounter with the squid, and he knew that was the direction he needed to find again. Below him was the vast muddy plain, with no landmarks to tell him which way to turn. He saw a few Plimpies prowling the lake bottom. One of them was bouncing along, its web-footed legs tied in a knot, and Viktor's heart rose a little. Merpeople were the only ones who dealt with Plimpies in that manner; he couldn't be far from the mer-village now.

But he still had no idea which way to go. He circled uncertainly once more, than randomly chose a direction. He was sure that at least half his time was up, and he had to do something.

A dark shape loomed up ahead. Viktor swam closer to it, an inexplicable flutter in his stomach, and made out a sword-like rocky formation rearing up from the lake bottom. Viktor stared at it, knowing that he had seen it before and wondering where. Had it been pictured in one of the books he had read about the lake? He looked to the left and right of the formation, and, as his eyes fell on the right path, his dream came back to him clearly. Her voice had called to him from that side. This was the way he supposed to go.

Viktor shot forward, heart pounding as the rest of the dream came into sharp focus in his mind. She had been there, with her friends, and he had tried to get her out, but he had failed. Viktor swam faster now, half-expecting to see the pit from his dream ahead of him at any second, but all he saw was a huge rock with paintings of merpeople on it. Diggory was up ahead of him, passing the rock coming from another direction. Diggory saw him, and waved and grinned, his features appearing stretched out because of the Bubble-Head Charm he had employed.

Viktor scowled inwardly as Diggory disappeared around the rock. He had been foolish not to use that charm himself. No, instead, he had concentrated only on doing something wildly impressive, something that would get her attention. But no matter how impressive that bit of Transfiguration may be, it wouldn't matter if he didn't find her and get her out of here soon. He had been stupid, really, not to realize the danger of being without his wand under the lake's surface. If he hadn't been so determined to do the shark Transfiguration, perhaps the giant squid wouldn't have held him up so long. But at least he only had the shark's head now, and that seemed to be serving the same purpose as the Bubble-Head Charm. It was too late to change now, at any rate.

Viktor was level with the large rock now, and he could see that the pictures showed spear-carrying merpeople chasing the giant squid. I hope they catch it one day, he thought sourly as he swam past.

Mer-song was filling his ears now, a haunting, lonely sound. He realized with a start that the eerie voices were chanting the song from the egg, with new words added.

"…your time's near gone, so tarry not,

Lest what you seek stays here to rot…"

Viktor tried to ignore the twisting feeling in his stomach and plunged ahead through the gloom, following the sound. He found himself surrounded by crude stone caves. Algae were everywhere. As he swam past, he saw merpeople darting into their stone dwellings and scattering out of his way.

A painful screeching rose up as Viktor entered what looked like the center of the village. Crowds of merpeople were floating all around, and the singing chorus held the central position. A huge statue of a merperson loomed up behind them. It would have been an amazing sight, had Viktor not seen what floated gently against the tail of the stone statue.

There she was, limp and unmoving except for the gentle sway of the water. As he sped toward her, he saw that she was bound tightly against the statue by thick ropes of weed. His heart contracted sharply to see her there, unconscious and helpless, waiting for him to rescue her.

And then he noticed the others. A little blonde girl was bound on one side of her. The red-haired boy was floating below the statue, a few inches from the lake bottom. He looked unconscious as well. Potter was treading water next to the statue, watching Viktor expectantly.

The sight of her two friends there was unexpectedly unnerving, but Viktor swallowed the sour taste that had risen in his mouth and swam straight to her, afire with a new urgency to get her away from this place.

It is not the same, he told himself fiercely, pushing away the lingering memory of his dream. He snapped at the ropes, determined to sever them as quickly as possible, but shark teeth were clearly not designed for this sort of thing.

Viktor jumped as something hit him hard on the shoulder. He turned to see Potter floating directly behind him, holding up a jagged-edge stone. Viktor grabbed the stone and began sawing away at the rope. It was very effective; a few seconds later she was free. Dropping the stone, he seized her around the middle and swam quickly toward the surface. He didn't dare look back, as he half-expected to feel Potter and the red-haired boy grabbing his feet, as they had grabbed the shark's tail in his dream. But he felt nothing of the sort, and the odd twisting in his stomach abated somewhat as the light from the surface became visible. He heaved her up the last few feet and her head broke the surface. He followed a moment later, his ears filled with the riotous sounds of the crowd.

He trod water, watching her face anxiously. She was definitely breathing—he could feel her warm breath against his face. But her eyes were still closed and her face was oddly slack. Viktor shifted to keep his grip on her, and, as he did so, her eyes snapped open. She stared straight ahead of her at the packed stands for a moment, then turned her head to face him.

Immediately she began screaming and pushing at his chest, the way she had done in his dream. Viktor's first instinct was to hold on more tightly to her, so that she couldn't fall away into the dark water. She screamed louder and struggled in his grasp, staring at his face, and Viktor realized that she was shocked because of his shark head. Immediately he let go. She pushed herself backward, staring at him in horror, and some of the teachers pulled her out of the lake.

Viktor swam to the shallows and emerged from the water as the school nurse wrapped her—Hermione, he told himself, though he wondered if he was even pronouncing it correctly in his head—in a thick blanket. This thought brought his dream back to him once more, but he pushed it away as he pulled out his wand and muttered "Finite Incantatum." He felt the chilly air in his lungs as the shark's head gave way to his own, less impressive one. He thought mournfully of how he had expected her to be impressed and astounded by his Transfiguration prowess. That had certainly not turned out as he had intended.

"Come with me, we'll get you warmed up now," said the nurse's voice behind him. He followed her over to the bench near the judges' table. Diggory and a dark-haired girl were sitting at one end, wrapped in blankets and beaming at one another. And there she was, further along the bench, wrapped in her blanket and looking at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. The nurse pushed him down beside her and draped a blanket around his shoulders.

"Drink it!" the nurse ordered, pushing mugs of Pepper-Up Potion into their hands. "It will warm you up." Viktor sipped at his, watching as his companion drank steadily. He felt a tug of guilt; it was his fault, really, that she was in this situation in the first place. He hoped that the cold air wouldn't make her ill.

She drained her cup, steam pouring from her ears, and handed it to the nurse, who nodded approvingly. Viktor finished his quickly and did the same. He watched the nurse move off down the bench to check on Diggory and the other girl. This was his chance. Maybe things hadn't gone quite as he had hoped so far, but the fact remained that he had rescued her from the merpeople. Besides, it was no use hiding his feelings now, now that Bagman had announced that she was the thing he would miss the most. The time for hesitation was past. It was time to say the things he had wanted to say to her on Valentine's Day, and he would never have a better chance than he did right now, while everyone else was absorbed in watching the rest of the task.

"Where are they?" she said from his left—the first thing he had heard her say since emerging from the water. "What's taking them so long? Do you think they've been attacked?" She was staring out anxiously over the lake.

Viktor followed her gaze with a frown. "They were coming right behind us," he said. He glanced over at the judges' table to see Karkaroff watching him, eyes cold and hard. Viktor looked away quickly, and determinedly seized one of her hands, pulling her further along the bench out of earshot of the others. She gave him a startled look.

He looked back at her and took a deep breath. This was it. "Hermione," he said softly, still holding her hand in his own. He was acutely aware of the wisps of steam still coming out of his ears from the Pepper-Up Potion, but he plunged ahead anyway. "I was wondering...if you are not doing anything this summer...if you might like to come visit me in Bulgaria."

She stared at him for a long moment, not saying anything. This silence made him inexplicably nervous, and he looked down at their hands as he went on. "I want you to know that I have never felt this way about any other girl..." But this wasn't what he really wanted to say, and he knew it. Say it, he told himself. He looked up at her again, drawing his strength from her warm brown eyes. He took another deep breath. "Hermione, I love you."

But a sudden roar from the crowd drowned out these words, and he wasn't even sure if she heard them. She whipped around to face the lake, pulling her hand from his, and Viktor felt suddenly empty. He turned shakily and saw that Fleur Delacour was being pulled from the lake, sobbing hysterically. The Beauxbatons headmistress ran forward and carried her over to the bench, but Fleur immediately tried to go back to the water, screaming all the time, "Gabrielle! Gabrielle!". Madame Maxime seized the girl around the waist and kept her forcibly from going back to the water.

"Where's Harry?" said an anxious voice from his left, and Viktor turned to see her staring out over the lake, a worried expression on her face and her hands twisting in her lap. A water-beetle was lodged in her hair, but he had no desire to tell her so at the moment. Would she be this worried over him?, he wondered. Or would it always be Potter who came first in her mind?

Out in the middle of the lake, a number of green heads appeared, with a black one at their center. A moment later, two more heads emerged from the water. Next to him, he heard an enormous sigh of relief. But Viktor didn't even want to turn his head now. He watched as Potter was pulled from the water and led over to the bench. The nurse pushed him down on her other side and made him drink some potion.

"Harry, well done!" she was saying. "You did it, you found out how, all by yourself!" Viktor wondered for a moment what she was talking about, but he realized suddenly that he must have been right about her not helping Potter. A sudden warmth spread through him; he did know her, after all.

"You have a water-beetle in your hair, Hermione," he said, putting his hand on her back and interrupting her conversation with Potter.

She glanced at him and brushed the bug away quickly, then continued to talk to Potter. Viktor frowned to himself. It was nearly impossible to talk to her when she was around her friends. Especially Potter. Viktor fell into a sulky silence as he waited for the scores to be announced.

**************************

Viktor stared at the ceiling of the hospital wing. The nurse had insisted that all of the champions and the hostages—Viktor still found himself wincing at the word, even now that the task was over—come here as soon as the scores had been announced. She had insisted on dry clothes and one last checkup before she would allow them to join the other students for lunch.

Third. He had come in third in the task, with only forty points. The only person who had received fewer points had been Fleur Delacour, and she had not even retrieved her sister. "An incomplete form of Transfiguration,' Bagman had said. Viktor should have protested, he knew. He should have told them that he had managed the complete change, and why it hadn't worked as well. But that would be the sort of thing Karkaroff would do. And besides, thought Viktor, looking over at the curly-haired figure in the bed to his right, the score is not what really matters anyway.

Potter had come in ahead of him, of course. Potter had gotten extra points for making sure that everyone made it to the surface safely. He hadn't gotten full marks though—Viktor felt sure that Karkaroff had been the reason behind that.

Viktor wondered briefly if he should have waited down there too. He had to admit that he had been more than relieved to leave Potter and the red-haired boy there at the bottom of the lake. She had certainly seemed impressed enough by Potter's actions. Viktor had tried to talk to her again after the scores had been announced, but she hadn't stopped clapping for Potter long enough to listen. So he had followed her in silence as she chattered with her friends on the way up to the hospital wing.

"You may go, dear," said the nurse to the figure in the bed next to him, and he turned his head to see her sitting up with a smile. She wasn't looking at him, however; she was looking in the direction of Potter and the red-haired boy, who were standing by the door, waiting for her.

"Come on! Lunch has already started. I'm starving!" said the red-haired boy.

"You make it sound as if you were the one doing all the work, instead of sleeping," she replied in a tone of easy familiarity.

Viktor stared at her as she got up off the bed. Was she really going to leave, just like that, without saying a word to him? Hadn't she heard anything he had said to her by the lake?

Their eyes met as she stood, and she froze for a moment. Then she turned to her friends and said, "You two go on. I'll meet you down there." Her tone was casual, but Viktor could see her hands tugging unnecessarily at her robes. Viktor smiled to himself as the two boys left. Perhaps he had a chance after all.

But once the nurse had declared him fit to leave, and she had followed him out into the corridor, he found that he didn't know what to say. What could he say, really, that hadn't already been said? And it had been hard enough to bring those things up the first time—how on earth was he supposed to do it again? The two of them walked along corridors and down staircases wrapped in an awkward silence, and Viktor felt his chance slipping away as they got nearer and nearer to the Great Hall. He had to do something.

Finally, on the first floor, he steeled himself and turned to face her. "I meant what I said earlier," he said, his voice lower than he had intended. She stopped and turned to face him slowly, trepidation in her eyes. Viktor knew they couldn't stay here, in the middle of the corridor. He grasped her hand and pulled her into an empty classroom.

He turned to face her again, taking a deep breath. "We were interrupted earlier. I wanted to know if you would like to come to Bulgaria this summer?" He stared into her face, feeling suddenly that his ability to breathe might be dependent upon her response.

She looked away. "I don't know," she said. "I don't know if my parents would let me."

Viktor nodded impatiently, knowing that this was not the point. "But if they agree," he said, "would you want to come?" He searched her face, as though this would give him the answer he wanted to hear.

"Well," she said, still not looking at him, her voice unusually high-pitched, "I'm sure it would be a fascinating place to visit, and learn about the history..."

Viktor frowned. She still didn't seem to understand. Or was she being deliberately dense? He couldn't tell. "I would like to show my country to you," he said slowly. "I would like my family to meet you." He looked into her face, waiting for her to look at him, not daring to hope about what he might see there when she did.

Finally she looked up at him, her eyes uncertain, and she gasped sharply as their eyes met. This gave him a small measure of hope, and he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, as he had longed to do so often in the library. Her eyes softened as they continued to look into his.

"You are very special, Hermione," he said softly. "When I saw you at the bottom of the lake, unconscious, I was frightened. I would never let anything happen to you."

He took a step closer, drawn forward by the new expression on her face, one he had only ever imagined seeing there before. Surely this had to be a dream. He moved his hands up her arms and rested them lightly on her shoulders, then bent forward to kiss her.

Before their lips met, however, she turned her head sharply and took a step backward. "I'm sorry…I can't…" she murmured.

Viktor also took a step backward, his hands falling back to his sides. He stared at her, unable to keep the hurt from showing on his face. He didn't know what to say. He had thought…

"Viktor," she said shakily, "I'm sorry...I didn't mean..." She took a deep breath. "Look, I really like spending time with you, but...this is too much for me. You're so much older than I am...I'm not ready for this."

Viktor stared at her, seeing for the first time a fourteen-year-old girl in front of him. He had known that he was older than she was, of course, but he had never realized that this had bothered her. "I am sorry," he said. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable, Hermione." He frowned as he mangled her name again.

She smiled up at him awkwardly. "It's alright," she said, and Viktor knew it wasn't. He stared at her, struggling for something to say. She looked back at him, seeming as lost for words as he was.

A long moment passed. Then a noise from the corridor outside told him that the other champions were on their way down to lunch. He heard a child's voice speaking very quickly in French.

"Come on, we're missing lunch," she said. Viktor looked at her again, but she wasn't meeting his eyes now. He felt that he should say something else. He didn't want to leave now, didn't want to leave things like this. But she was exiting the classroom, and he had no choice but to follow her.

They made their way down to the Great Hall in silence, an almost physical sense of awkwardness hanging in the air between them. They went through the heavy doors and stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at one another. Viktor had no idea what to say. He didn't know how to improve the situation, and neither, apparently, did she.

"See you later," she finally said, a note of forced cheer in her tone. Viktor nodded, overwhelmed by a wave of sudden disappointment, and turned toward the Slytherin table.

He took a seat at the far end of the table, aware of the eyes of half the hall on him. He tried to ignore the looks as he piled potatoes on his plate. He did this more to have something to do than because he was really hungry; despite the fact that he had barely eaten any breakfast and had spent over an hour in the lake, Viktor felt quite certain that he wouldn't be able to eat a bite. In fact, he felt rather as if he was going to be sick at any moment.

"Where's your lovely lady?" crowed Pashnik, coming up behind Viktor and tugging on the back of his robes. "Shouldn't you go sit near her? Don't you miss her?"

"Go to hell, Pashnik," Viktor snapped, pushing the smaller boy away roughly. Pashnik stared at him for a moment in surprise, then grinned and, "Love does strange things to the mind." Viktor reddened and glared at him as he returned to his seat next to Edina. A few of the Slytherins laughed, though some of the others were giving Viktor disgusted looks.

Viktor looked up at the enchanted ceiling and clenched his jaw. The ceiling showed an overcast sky, which seemed perfectly appropriate somehow. He looked over at the Gryffindor table and found her sitting with her friends, looking more subdued than normal.

Feeling a piercing gaze upon him, Viktor glanced up at the head table. Karkaroff was staring at him with the same cold expression he had worn by the lake. Now, however, Viktor could see that the look held more than a hint of malice in it. He looked quickly back down at his plate, wishing intensely that he could be anywhere but here, that he could be anyone but himself.

Author's Note: The inscription on the book in Viktor's dream, "Amicitia Amoris Certissima Pars," translates roughly to "Friendship is the truer part of love."