Monsters

II.

Hermione was crying softly as she sat in the muggle airport, Viktor Krum at her side, staring into space and absentmindedly tossing a snitch charmed to look like a muggle ball. The plane was to leave in half an hour; Krum and his mates had insisted on coming early. They walked around, playing casual pranks on the muggles, while Hermione and Krum sat at a bench with a clear view of the runway.

It was hard, leaving. She wasn't sure when she'd see them again, and she'd gotten used to this wild life in Bulgaria. She sat there and babbled about coming back and what they'd do next visit--all the things they missed, and making up for all the time he'd spent in closed quidditch practice the final week. Krum didn't look at her, much--he watched the muggles, stroked her hand, and every so often took out his snitch, though it frustrated him in its altered state.

Krum's mates, laughing hard at their latest joke and stuffing themselves with muggle food, strolled up to them and chattered in Bulgarian. Krum reddened, and translated: "Boarding call. I suppose you are to leave, now."

Hermione tried not to sob in front of him, but the tears came anyway. One of Krum's mates hugged her ferociously. "Come back soon," he said in his thick accent.

A smaller man also hugged her. He didn't speak any English, so he just nodded his head.

She turned to Viktor. "I suppose this is goodbye," she said.

"I suppose so," he said.

She hugged him tightly.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," he replied.

She picked up her suitcase and walked through the doors to the gate. As she turned around, she noticed that all three men were smiling. She did not notice that the smiles were forced. She waved goodbye a last time, and turned a corner. When she looked back again, they were gone.

Snape looked around at the fifth-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. They were supposedly making Strengthening Solution; no one seemed to have done a passable job. He recalled Potter's attempts at potion-making; by comparison, he wasn't so horrible. The thought of Potter set him scowling again. And that brought him to the thought of Granger, which was worse.

The students took note of his indifference to their work and seemed rather happy about it: Having Professor Snape lost in space was almost as good as if they had someone else for a teacher. Snape paced about the classroom, absently noting the student's mistakes and muttering corrections.

Luna Lovegood's potion was by far the most bizarre. Its vapor was black and its texture bubbly; its surface had a sheen like a mirror. The girl was staring at her own reflection. Snape recalled his own with a shudder; he walked briskly to the window and pulled back the curtain.

There he was again: Heartless Snivellus with the great hooked nose. He looked out across the vast fields to the forest's edge--it was a clear day, and in the distance he could make out the shapes of birds, flying toward the castle.

Herbology was dragging on, and Sprout wasn't in a particularly good mood. In fact, he seemed so sour that the Gryffindors for all their feuding were cheerful by comparison. Hermione had set to work by herself in a separate area of the greenhouse; from where she sat, she could see that Ron and Harry were talking quietly, and Neville was cheering up somewhat as he dug in the dirt.

She sat quietly, thinking about what Snape had said. "Go back to being who you were last term"--how was that even possible?

Hermione stepped off the muggle plane, feeling very out of place. Worse, the flight had been delayed--she'd had no way of conveying the message to Krum, and no way of knowing if he'd bothered to wait up. The muggles around her seemed not even to notice her, and she wondered--not for the first time--if this had been a good idea after all.

And then, she saw him. He was standing at the front of a crowd of people, looking around anxiously. His eyebrows were thick as ever and he looked strikingly handsome--for the first time, Hermione saw exactly what every other girl at Hogwarts had seen in Viktor Krum.

When he saw her, the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a weak smile. He grabbed her in a gentle hug and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"These are my friends," he said, and introduced them in turn. One, Maya, was undeniably pretty--she was a chaser for the team, and evidently one of his oldest friends. Hermione felt slightly jealous and annoyed, wondering why she hadn't been mentioned before--though it didn't take her long to realize why. Maya spoke no English at all, and the boys happily talked to her in their language, leaving Hermione completely in the dark as they led her out of the airport.

Ten minutes into the ride in the car--which had been enchanted, much like those belonging to the Weasleys--Hermione spoke up, tired of being ignored.

"Excuse me," she said to Viktor. "Where are we going?"

"A tavern in the city--it is like your Hog's Head," he replied. Maya said something, and he laughed loudly, beaming at her.

It wasn't, in fact, a bit like the Hog's Head. It was loud, yes, and crowded with wizards and witches--but it was not the same at all. The people were younger; the atmosphere more dangerous--the typical clothing far more risqué. Magic bolts were flying everywhere; some of the wizards were even riding their broomsticks indoors.

Krum led the group out onto the back patio. There, the view of the city was beautiful yet terrible; muggles, unable to see them, walked below laughing and fistfighting, enjoying their night out. Hermione had never been to such a place before; she sat down next to Krum at one of the tables, inching her chair closer to him and staring sullenly out at the cityscape when he failed to notice.

A tray of drinks floated in from the bar and landed in the middle of their table. Krum's friends laughed and took a frothing mug; Krum passed one over to Hermione and took one for himself.

"What is it?" she asked.

Krum laughed. "I don't know the word in English, so I can't help you. It's delicious," he said. "Just try it."

She did. At once it felt like a fireworks display had gone off in her mind; she blinked and nearly gagged at the strength of it. Whatever it was, it was a strong potion. And it seemed, as she drank more, to slow down the time: Maya's giggle lasted several seconds; Krum's words drawled out long and for a moment she imagined she could understand him. Her own movements were slow and graceful; her eyelids were heavy and her smile deep.

What a beautiful city. Everyone here was so different, so happy, so free--and all of this without breaking rules. There were no rules--just friends out on a weekend holiday. The muggle city lights sparkled in her drink and danced in Viktor's eyes.

"We're going to go on to a favorite place of mine," said Viktor, taking her hand in his. "Are you ready?"

She nodded and stood up, blushing.

"What is the matter?" he asked, leaning in close to her.

"I forgot something when I got off at the airport," she said softly.

"What?" he asked with a seductive smile.

"This." Blushing furiously, she kissed him on the cheek.

As she turned her head away, she felt his lips meet hers. He was kissing her, and she knew she would remember this moment forever.

A shadow passed overhead and she looked up. There was an owl sitting on the glass roof, directly above her. Her owl! She looked around; Sprout was busy with Parvati and Lavender, and no one else was looking her way. She snuck over to the wall and opened up a panel; in a soft flurry of feathers her owl landed, and she reached down for the scroll it carried.

She found several, addressed to Viktor Krum. The handwriting was hers and they were still sealed.

Biting her lip, she pulled the scrolls off and stuffed them into her pockets. Underneath the pile--all her notes that she had sent--was one addressed to her, in cramped and foreign handwriting. It was, unmistakeably, the letter she'd been waiting for. With shaking hands she broke the seal; she sat down at her desk to read it.

Dear Hermione,

I am sorry to have to tell you this. Against all of the odds, against what I was sure was true, I do not think we were meant to be. I know what I told you but please understand, you aren't who I thought you were. I expected so much more, and my friends agree--I can't be with a muggleborn.

I'm so sorry that it had to be this way, but I can't bring myself to face you again. I don't want to see you. I lied, Hermione.

Goodbye.

Viktor Krum

There were no words for how she felt, reading that letter. All that mattered was that she read it, and when she was done--and had re-read it six times over, to make sure it was real--she got up quietly, gathered her things, and slunk out of the greenhouse to be alone.