Disclaimer: Only in my wildest dreams do I own Harry Potter and everything associated with it. Unfortunately, this is reality not my dreams and I am not J.K. Rowling.

A/N: This is my first fic, so please be nice.

Chapter 1- A Letter from Harry

"Her-mo-ninny, there is an owl for you," Viktor's voice boomed through the ancestral home of the Russian Wizarding family Krum. Although he had tried for years to master the English language he still hadn't grasped the correct way to pronounce the name of his "beloved."

"Why is it that you always feel that you have to yell? I was only in the next room Viktor." Hermione asked, knowing she would get no response. The owl fluttered over to her and nipped at her finger sweetly, she looked up for the first time to really see the messenger. "Hedwig!" the beautiful snowy crest puffed with pride at the recognition and the owl held stock still after extending her leg so that Hermione might relieve her of the attached letter. Hedwig could only mean one thing, this letter was from one of her dearest friends, Harry Potter. She opened the letter and read:

Dear Hermione,
How are you? I trust that your summer is going well. Since I hadn't heard from you I thought that I should check to see if I was still going to be visiting you next week. I hope to see you soon.
Love, Harry

"Oh dear, I'd completely forgotten that Harry was coming to visit. I never used to forget things like that." Hermione said. "What?" Viktor asked in accented though perfect English. "I thought that you could never forget anything my little dove." Viktor smiled but it did not reach his eyes. He then turned back to the television set. Since becoming involved with Hermione he had become addicted to the muggle pastime of watching television, so called 'reality' shows in particular. There was not a day that had gone by since the beginning of her visit that Hermione hadn't seriously regretted introducing it to him.

She sighed internally and picked up a pen to send word to Harry that she and Viktor were happily awaiting his arrival. She finished and sealed the letter and attached it to Hedwig's leg then the graceful snowy owl sailed silently out into the warm inviting evening and out of sight. Her stomach rumbled and she made her way to the kitchen.

Since Hermione still seriously disapproved of the use of house elves she went about preparing her own snack. A hindrance that most witches and wizards had learned to avoid one way or another was housework. But it seemed like a great waste of time and energy to Hermione to find a magical solution to every little problem in life. After all she was muggleborn and for the first ten years of her life she hadn't known magic at all. She began to hum to herself as she sliced a ripe pear and removed the skin. Next she took out a large block of cheddar cheese and forced a large dull knife through it producing a slab a bit thicker than she'd intended to. "Damn." she muttered as she reduced the slab to more manageable pieces with a sharp knife.

When Viktor had finished reading the last of his novel, he sat up and stretched. "Her-mo-ninny? Are you there?" he asked as he opened the door and nearly stepped on Crookshanks. The large ginger cat was not at all amused at the prospect of being treated like a common carpet, but to Viktor's apparent surprise the cat did not hiss. Crookshanks leapt deftly out of the way of the young wizard. The hair on the back of Viktor's neck rose as he passed the cat; this sensation was accompanied by a chill. Viktor turned on his heel to confront the cat, "Stop that you stupid animal," Viktor hissed. Crookshanks fixed Viktor with a penetrating yellow gaze and let out a low grumbling "RRRROOOOO," which sounded suspiciously like a "no" to Viktor's ears. "Get out of here, go and catch some mice," he said. The ginger frame of the enormous cat went rigid. If it were to be a battle of wits or wills no self-respecting cat would dare lose to a mere wizard. As Viktor walked away he resigned himself to the idea that he would have to get used to the odd prickling feeling at the back of his neck for as long as Hermione was staying with him.

Viktor continued down the long dark corridor, making no more noise than the most efficient of house elves. He saw the light coming from beneath the kitchen door. He pushed open the door and carefully avoided the loose floorboard that creaks when trod upon. Had this been an ordinary day, Hermione would have been alerted to his presence by any number of factors, not the least of which the draft which raked the flames on the candles in the wall sconce nearest her. But this was no ordinary day and she was deep in thought about what could have come over her that would cause her to forget Harry's visit. Surely Viktor could not set compulsions on her that would make her forget other men altogether? No. That is absurd, but then how long since she'd thought of Harry or Ron or even the beautiful viper that is Dra... She made a strangled noise in her throat as she dropped the small sharp knife she'd been holding the blade caught in the palm of her hand. A strong arm reached from behind her and covered her mouth. Another arm seized her about her waist and pulled her upright, and close to the body of the assailant. She nearly panicked, when she felt the man's erection at the small of her back then he spoke, "You know what I vood like to do my little dove?"

"Viktor are you trying to scare the life out of me?" she asked, "I nearly had this blade in your ribs." At this she indicated the knife that bore her blood, not his on its tip. Viktor did not take his attention away from Hermione's warm body. His hands began to wander as they pleased, over her breasts and under her robes. She attempted to free herself from his embrace to bandage her hand but was unsuccessful. The groping grew more insistent and she knew that there would be only one way to appease him. He cleared the table with a flick of his wand as he tore Hermione from her robes. He ravaged her with such passion she felt it likely never to be the object of a lust to equal this again.

After Viktor had finished he threw her robes at her and stalked up to his bedchamber naked and alone without so much as a backward glance at Hermione. She pulled her robes on hastily and set off for her suite at a run. Once inside she flung herself down onto her bed and began to sob softly. An instant later a large furry ginger pillow presented its self for her to cry into.