CHAPTER UPDATED January 2022

Happy reading :)

Settings, stories, characters are all cannon, set in an AU, from a different POV!

Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes


Chapter Three: Writing To Viktor Krum

Hermione sat huddled at a small wooden table in a shadowed corner of the Library, quill in hand, staring at a blank piece of parchment, caught up in her own world. It was silent in the Library and had been ever since she had entered the third floor corridor an hour earlier. Although she was forbidden from taking out any books unless given written permission by her Master, Hermione had always loved being surrounded by such vast amounts of knowledge. She had once lived for books. She had spent hours poring over their contents, drinking in their precious information, and locking it away inside of herself.

Yet now all she had were momentary glimpses and hidden readings as she fleetingly stole her Master's books. In their younger years she had sat beside him as he completed his homework, looking up information as he required it and cherishing every roll of parchment that the Professors of the school had demanded. This had since waned. As their OWLs approached, he had ensured that he himself completed all of the tasks by himself in order to be as prepared as possible. Nevertheless, she still came to the Library regardless. Even if just to sit by herself and concentrate, to relax, or even to talk to the Librarian, Madam Pince, who did not treat her as inferior, instead sharing her passion for books.

They had first met after Hermione had run there to hide from Master Weasley between the labyrinth - like bookshelves. She couldn't even remember what had happened between them, just what it was the only place she felt safe and out of his reach. As Madam Pince had approached her younger self, small and shaking in the farthest corner that she could find, Hermione had been afraid for the first time since arriving at the school. Despite her underfed vulture-like appearance with her parchment-like skin, sunken cheeks, and shrivelled face with an unflattering hooked-nose, she had smiled kindly. Although her thin body complemented her irritable looking expression, Hermione knew this was all for show. She was merely overprotective of her leather - bound loves and the room in which they were kept and wished to preserve them to the best of her ability.

This was when Hermione had come to know the Library as her place. And now she had come here to write in peace, just as Kevin had suggested. But now there was just one problem. She simply could not think how possibly to begin.

"Dear Viktor? Dearest Viktor? My Vikky? Oh Merlin no!" She mumbled to herself, shaking her head at her own stupidity. She coughed a little and huffed to herself in slight anger. Settling for 'Dear Viktor' she began writing but stopped again. 'What else?' She mused to herself. They had had no contact for many months now, and she was supposed to be confiding her deepest problems to him. 'This is going to be more difficult than I had imagined…'

Tilting her head backwards, she thought back to the moment Viktor had stepped into her life at the very beginning of the previous year, to enter the Triwizard Tournament. Servants and students alike had received special orders that whilst the Drumstrang Institute and the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic were sharing Hogwarts with them, they were to attend to their visitors needs over their Masters. Many of the students had grumbled and moaned viciously between themselves, but never darned to air their views openly in front of their visitors or any members of staff.

She remembered as a great skeletal looking ship had crested the waters of the Great Black Lake, piloted by the boys of Durmstrang, where it would remain anchored for the rest of the year. She had hidden behind both Master Weasley and Master Potter in both awe and fear of the new arrivals. She had heard about them before. This school refused to even accept Muggleborns and the enchantments around the building ensured that they could not come within miles of the Scandinavian grounds. As they had departed the boat, walking through the gathered onlooking students of Hogwarts, someone had shouted from behind her is a shrill voice,

"It's Viktor Krum! The Bulgarian seeker!" People began to shriek, namely girls, pointing towards a tall, thin young man with a curved nose and thick set black eyebrows. Many went scrambling to search for parchment and a quill to get his autograph. None so more than Master Weasley himself who squealed with glee at the sight of him,

"There's no one like Krum! He's like a bird the way he rides the wind! He's more than an athlete... he's an artist!" Her Master had glowed with excitement at the appearance of his hero. As if he had heard him, Viktor had spun his head in the direction of the first cry and stopped walking suddenly. They had locked eyes and she could feel people staring at them both, though Viktor seemed not to notice. He had begun to swiftly walk in their direction, heading straight for them, causing more girls to begin shrieking even louder around them. She remembered how she had blushed as he pushed past Master Weasley and came directly to her. She looked away from him, clad in her long red dress and apron, with her hair stuck out on end and bags under her eyes, barely presentable to anyone. Yet he had still knelt before her and taken her hand, pushing the back to his lips rather passionately. She had flushed brilliantly, staring down at him in amazement, watching him stand up straight and then lead her away, the screaming students now standing still in silence.

She had accompanied Viktor rather shyly and tentatively to the front of his brigade and then continued up the stone steps and into the castle, not daring to look back as she felt Master Weasley's stare burning into the back of her skull. She had remained with him for most of the year, despite her Master's obvious disapproval, snorting whenever he saw them together and delivering his snide and hurtful comments at any and every opportunity he got.

She had often watched as Viktor had trained for the tasks, taking casual dips into the Black Lake, diving from the stern of the ship and into the freezing cold waters all throughout the winter months and into the summer. Only once had her Master stopped by whilst she had sat in the wind and the snow watching Viktor intently, simply to comment that he hoped the Giant Squid which inhabited the lake would drown him as he submerged.

"Not that he ever really cared," She chuckled at the recollection, "He was just pissed that he couldn't be as lazy as usual." She smiled fondly at the memories of attending the celebratory Yule Ball together as well as the weeks leading up to it. She had taught Viktor the basics of Ballroom and Latin dancing, helped him to study, and they often had lunches and picnics together either in the kitchens or out in the grounds on warmer days.

He brought a warm feeling to her chest when she thought about him, in the same way that Kevin and Justin did, how Carla warmed her when they wiled away their free time together. Hermione felt nothing but love for Viktor, for his kind yet strong nature and his ability to see her as a person, and not as an object. He often professed her beauty, applauded her skills and intelligence, and entertained her with stories and anecdotes of his previous adventures. But she had made it profoundly clear to him that she was not interested in pursuing a relationship with him. Hermione felt too young, too uncomplicated to be engaging such feelings. Though this did not seem to stop him from hinting heavily at her.

True, he made her heart flutter with his flattery, but she felt as though she was just not ready to push herself towards anything more. And then there was…that. The temporarily forgot to breath as she remembered Master Weasley grabbing her from behind and collapsing into her, her stomach knotted tight remembering the chaste kiss he had placed on her cheek. 'Why the hell does it make me feel like that?' Kevin had kissed her cheek and forehead multiple times giving her a warm fuzzy feeling, and Viktor had repeatedly kissed her hand, embarrassing her more than anything. But this had felt entirely new, giving her an almost sickening depression in her chest. She tried not to think about it. It confused her far too much. Giving herself a small shake, she returned to her parchment, finally knowing how to begin.

As her hand moved across the page, she lost herself, as if she were back with him, spending hours talking over everything and nothing, able to be herself and as far away from being a slave as she could be. She vaguely sensed something move behind her but dismissed it in favour of not breaking her writing flow.

"Dearest Viktor? Viktor who?" A vicious voice sounded in her ear, and she shrieked loudly, shooting back in her chair, and crushing the toes of whoever was behind her with a bone crunching crack. They howled in pain, and she received a sharp whack about her head, causing her to turn quickly and return the gesture with every ounce of force that she could muster. She gasped in horror upon seeing who she had just hit and clamped a hand over her fallen jaw, squealing loudly. Piercing the quiet of the library, a faint 'shhh' could be heard coming from Madam Pince somewhere in the never-ending room as Hermione stared back at Master Weasley in shock.

Master Potter and Mistress Weasley were standing a little way back by a rather tall and dusty bookcase, looking at them amusedly, having obviously allowed Master Weasley to take the lead with his slave, having tiptoed his way behind her to peer over her shoulder.

"Master! Oh my! I'm so sorry!" She squeaked loudly, earning yet another plea for silence from the librarian. Dropping her voice to a whisper Hermione fell to her knees in front of him, her head bowed low, "Please forgive me!"

"Just answer the question Granger!" He spat sounding thoroughly annoyed. She looked up at him with an obviously confused look on her face, "And get up!"

"What?" Before he could answer her, his sister interrupted them audaciously, clearing her throat loudly,

"Dearest Viktor," She began in a mocking voice that resembled little of Hermione's, "I do hope that you've been keeping well, it's been so - so here, just the normal hard work. Master Weasley's being a git as usual, not much change from when we last spoke." Hermione's eyes were glued to the floor in front of her and she could feel her Master practically boring a hole into the top of his head with the furious stare he was giving her even as Master Potter stifled a laugh.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to come and stay with you in Bulgaria last summer, my parents needed me at home. But we would love for you to visit us sometime soon." She paused again, Hermione flicked her eyes in the young girl's direction, eyes wide and staring, a deadpan expression glaring back at her. She was unable to move but for a small twitch in the corner of her mouth. Mistress Weasley smirked and continued as Hermione returned her eyes to the floor,

"I've miss spending time with you, you made all of last year much more bearable. Kevin and Justin both send their regards and I know that Carla would love to see you again, if only to relive another of your great Quidditch feats. I know that...you know what? What were you going to write?" The ginger-haired woman stared down at her suspiciously, almost just daring her to answer her back truthfully,

"Oi, Ginny. I'll be doing the interrogating. She's my slave not yours." Cut in Master Weasley, releasing some of his anger upon his own sibling before returning his attention to her. He suddenly knelt to Hermione's still form, breathing heavily and speaking dangerously low,

"Why are you writing to Viktor Krum?" She remained silent, not having the bravery to answer. She felt stupid. It was all innocent and she wasn't breaking any laws. But it was always such a big deal to him, even to mention his name in her Master's presence. He pulled at her face, fingers holding tightly onto her chin, forcing her to look at him, "Why...are you...writing...to Viktor Krum? Is that really so difficult to answer?" She shook her head furiously, despite the restraints placed upon her by his hand, "Answer it then!" He barked,

"He's my friend!" She squeaked back at him, only to have Mistress Weasley scoff at her,

"He's Pureblood! He's not allowed to be friends with people like you. He goes to a school even more prejudice that this one. At least we let you enter the building. What are you, his little whore?"

Hermione shot a look at her, filling it with as much venom as she could, hating her Master's sister at that moment for even being courageous enough to suggest such a thing.

"Don't you dare look at me like that!" Mistress Weasley took a step towards her as if preparing to physically strike her. Yet Master Weasley stepped forward and dragged Hermione to her feet and out of the reach of his sister.

"Leave it. She's mine, I'll deal with her." He spoke to much more calmly than before and this seemed to subdue her slightly. He then rounded upon Hermione, "Go get me food. Now. Take it to my room and wait there."

Hermione breathed deeply, ready to retort and defend herself. But this dissipated after a moment and she decided against it, instead picking up her quill hastily from the table and making a grab for the parchment, but Mistress Weasley held it out of her reach. "NOW Granger!" She flinched as he shouted and turned back to him to give a small bow before running from the three of them and out of sight behind another gargantuan row of books.

~x~x~x~

Kevin stood over a large bucket-like bowl of warm soapy water and several washboards, breathing heavily as he scrubbed his way through a mountain of dirtied clothing that his Mistress had so lovingly presented him with that morning. He had absolutely no idea what she could possibly have been doing, but after all these years had eventually learned not to question it. With a sudden, overly loud crack, Dobby appeared behind him chirping happily in his ear, "Where's Miss Hermione today, Mister Kevin?"

"Probably wiping the arse of that lazy git she calls Master." He spat bitterly, still upset that Hermione had not come to him when he had asked her to the previous day. He knew that given the chance she would have done so. He could only imagine the arduous tasks that Master Weasley would have undoubtedly given her as punishment for being late bringing him food. 'He's such a pig' Kevin though miserably.

Dobby sighed heavily and Kevin could feel him staring at him. Putting a small spindly hand upon his leg he squeaked, "Mister Kevin must not worry, Miss Hermione is a brave girl. She will not suffer him unnecessarily." Kevin looked down and gave him a weak smile. In fairness Dobby was right. He had spent much of his time feeling sorry for Hermione in her younger years as she crumbled under Master Weasley's cruelty. But after her last year being free of him, she appeared to have developed an attitude to her that he had been unaware she could possess. A sassiness that occasionally reared its head when she forgot her status within the school. He found it rather amusing on occasion, until he remembered that her insubordination would usually have unpleasant consequences.

Kevin had once mused at her decision to remain within the school. He had a relatively amicable time within its walls, especially in comparison to her. And from what he could tell, her only reason for staying was the want and need to expose the cruelty going on within the school to the outside world and for Carla, though the latter point was perhaps even more vague. He sometimes tried to imagine what hold Carla had over the situation, and perhaps that hold extended further, perhaps even to himself.

'Would she stay for me though?' He thought acrimoniously, then giving himself a small shake for his stupidity. Dobby suddenly jumped high and squealed causing him to spasm slightly, "Look! Look Mister Kevin! For Miss Hermione's birthday!" He ran to a small curtain at the back of the kitchen, opened it and pulled out a small bundle. The elf held up a long red and gold scarf and matching hat, looking proudly at them as though he had carefully and lovingly knitted them himself.

"They're amazing Dobby," He looked at the elf kindly, seeing how excited he was to soon be able to present them to Hermione, "Want to see what I've got for her?" Dobby nodded eagerly causing Kevin to grin manically. He had found her the perfect present and he knew it. Taking his hands from the water and drying them upon his apron, he led the elf over to the fireplace, and stood inside, both allowing themselves to be swept up in a great whirl of deep blue flames.

There was a great pop and they both stumbled from the fireplace inside of Ravenclaw Tower. Stepping out into the large, midnight coloured, circular room, Kevin hurried over to one of the bronze drapes that hung loosely around the walls and pulled it forwards. Hidden behind it there was a small, half sized door which he opened gently and allowed Dobby to wander through, out onto a small patch of concealed grass. It was sheltered, the ceiling painted with luminescent stars like the Common Room, bringing a soothing and comforting state of relaxation to anyone who entered.

Dobby looked around and then up at him quizzically, but he just smiled and nodded towards a cluster of small trees, and up into the intertwined branches. From behind the vibrant foliage, two large yellow eyes peered back at the two of them causing Dobby to back away slightly, almost falling over his own long feet. "He's been here since the start of term; I bought him at Diagon Alley from the Magical Menagerie. The proprietor said he'd been there ages because nobody wanted him, but he seems really intelligent, kind of fitting for Hermione."

With that, a very big, bandy-legged, ginger-coloured feline creature jumped onto the grass below, raising its squashed head towards them, looking as if he had run headlong into a brick wall. He flicked his bottlebrush tail towards them, and knelt low to the ground, spying a small cluster of spiders trickling past. "He's either a very big cat or quite a small tiger." Dobby chuckled at him, and he looked down to the elf, a little confused,

"He's half - Kneazle Mister Kevin!"

"Kneazle?" Kevin stared at the animal suspiciously, beginning to regret his purchase. He was now even more confused about what he had bought than before.

"A cat-like creature that has the ability to simply sense suspicious or unfriendly individuals." Dobby continued and Kevin nodded at the information, a sense of relief washing over him,

"That would generally explain the aggressiveness and intelligence." The feline leapt forward suddenly, scattering the cluster of spiders in all directions. It selected the smallest and chased the frightened arachnid frantically as it weaved and scuttled away from the playful outstretched paws trying to ensnare it, clearly terrified for its life.

~x~x~x~

Hermione sat huddled in front of Master Weasley's bed, resting her back against the wood and allowing the heater to warm her feet gently. She pondered her situation thoughtfully. She would certainly try to write to Viktor again, perhaps with a little more stealth next time around and away from prying eyes. She huffed heavily, 'He's taking ages. Where the hell is he? I just want to get this over with'. She had resigned herself to not crying in front of him, she would not give him the satisfaction.

She had changed into her Hogwarts robes, expecting to be sent upon duties as punishment for even attempting to correspond with the seeker. She sat fiddling with her Gryffindor tie, thinking how best to possibly explain away her situation. The door swung open and in came Carla, bustling about with a large pile of clothes and happily humming to herself.

"Oh, Hermione! Didn't see you there, how's it...Hermione? What's wrong?" She looked at her over the top of her glasses and then placed the clothes on top of Master Potter's bed. Removing her own Gryffindor tie and black jumper, she knelt next to her friend.

"Same old. Master of the Year caught me writing a letter to Viktor and his bitch of a sister took it off me." Carla huffed and pushed her glasses up her nose,

"That family is horrendous sometimes! It's a wonder you're still here, it took a lot less for Xena, Maria and Serena to leave Hogwarts, especially after all Maria said about us sticking together. I do miss them..." She trailed off sadly, clearly thinking of the last time they had seen each other just as Hermione did.

She and Carla had stood at the platform, staring at a single occupied window of the Hogwarts Express, sadly waving to the three girls that had decided their time had ended at Hogwarts, destined for home. The remaining two had wept alongside one another that night, in mourning for their friend's departure, seeing their strength having so easily failed after all but a year of their captivity.

Carla had little options when it came to remaining at Hogwarts. She had no family and the only home she had known was crowded with unwanted and unruly children who bullied her relentlessly. She had divulged this information to Hermione after a few weeks of their first meeting, and it had saddened her to think that during Carla's short life she had not had anywhere to call her home for more than a few months at a time, no company and even less love given to her. As bad as the school seemed, Hermione had the distinct impression that it was favourable to her life in the Muggle world.

They sat, side by side, in a rather uncomfortable silence until Carla spoke, "What will you do?"

"Just wait for what I get. I suppose I'll deserve it, or so he will tell me. Merlin knows what he'll do to me when he gets back though. I've given up guessing, he's been very creative in the past with it." She stared down at her lap in a sunken and disappointed stillness.

"Hmm, I hope he's not too harsh. I'm so lucky to have Master Harry you know. Harsh at first, but he's lovely really, once you get to know him." Carla said fondly, smiling to herself.

"I wish I could say the same..." Carla sighed heavily and then stood up, moving away from her. Going over to the screen between the nearest two beds she began changing into her leisurely Gryffindor uniform,

"Master Harry's insisting I go with him to dinner today," She came out, busy tying her golden apron around herself. Hermione stood and frowned at her,

"Why are you getting changed then?" She moved over to begin smoothing down Master Weasley's bed, ridding it of even the smallest of crinkles.

"I like to be comfortable, even if it's just for a while. It won't take me long to get back into my robes. What are you gonna do in the meantime while I'm away?" Carla quizzed,

"Sit and be punished?"

"Don't you usually bend for that...?" She smirked dirtily and pushed her bottom out suggestively as a few moments passed between them,

"Oh...Carla!" Hermione picked up a pillow and threw it at her friend, a discreet smile gracing her lips. She always knew how to lighten the situation when Hermione needed it, "That is disgusting! There is no way I'm letting that arse anywhere near-"

"Your arse?" She chuckled,

"Carla!" Hermione gasped and threw yet another pillow in her direction, hitting her full in the face and causing her to topple backwards, heavily flopping onto Master Potter's bed. They giggled wildly, Carla taking Master Potter's pillow and beating her back as Hermione flew at her shrieking playfully and pulling a further pillow from the bed. They rolled about the floor together in a tangled mess, whacking and pummelling each other with the soft pillows, giggling constantly, ignoring the volume of their cries, lost in a childish oblivion.

~x~x~x~

They push the door open casually to find their slaves seemingly so engrossed in chasing and wrestling one another, that they failed to notice the two of them walk in. The boys stood half - open mouthed staring at their oblivious servants, who had apparently forgotten their duties and their status.

Harry shook his head reproachfully as Carla gave Hermione an almighty whack about the head, first causing the pillow to explode, sending mountains of feathers cascading about the room and secondly throwing Hermione's head forwards, causing it to connect sharply with one of the posts of Dean's bed.

"Aaaah! The nose Carla! The nose!" Hot red liquid began to spurt instantly from her nostrils, trailing to her chin and dripping down her neck and onto her clothes, lightly splattering the floor in front of her.

"Oh my Merlin, Hermione! I'm so sorry! Here let me see it," She dropped the ripped pillow and ran to her friend's side, pulling her head back forcefully and trying to stem the flow, "You really need the Hospital Wing Hermione, Madam Pomfrey could sort this easily."

"Are you kidthing?" Hermione said, sounding muffled and blocked as her nose was squeezed hard by her friend, "Thewth no way, Mather Weathley wouldn't wet me." She was trying to shove her away with little success,

"Of course, he'll let you Hermione! He's not completely heartless!" Carla tried to drag her to her feet and then sat her upon Ron's bed whilst still holding her nose and pushing her backwards. Ron flushed a little at their comments. Carla was right, he wouldn't just let her continue to bleed all over the place, that would be ridiculous. And disgusting. He could feel Harry's eyes piercing him with an unspoken question, do they involve themselves or slip back out of the room unseen?

"You're tho lucky…Mather Potter ith much kinder." Carla looked sadly at her friend and Ron glared at Hermione. How could she stand there praising Harry? His jealousy over Harry's popularity was threatening to raise its ugly head again, so he swallowed hard to push it back down and tried desperately to ignore it. It looked as though the blood from Hermione's nose had begun to slow, barely anymore liquid leaking from the orifice,

"Oh Hermione. What a total dickhead...We should just run off and magic ourselves away and..." Yet she was cut off as Harry barked at them suddenly. The two girls jumped exaggeratedly, and it took every ounce of Ron's strength not to do the same.

"Well funnily enough, you bloody well can't!" His voice was clear and threatening, his arms tightly folded across his chest and glaring at them.

Carla seemed to panic, "Master Harry!" She quickly stood and spun around hurriedly, proceeding to knock Hermione hard in the nose again, causing her to cry out in pain as it made an agonisingly loud crunch,

"Carla! The nose!" She screeched as it began bleeding abundantly once more, dripping all over the bed sheets, tears coating her eyes once more. She seemed to pause momentarily, seemingly trying to control herself as she squeezed her eyes shut and scrunched up the rest of her face in apparent anguish. A small knot grew inside Ron's stomach as he looked at her pitifully, feeling as though he should probably be doing something to rectify the situation.

"Oh Hermione, I'm so sorry!" She made a move towards her again in an attempt to help, but stopped as Harry spoke clearly once more, in a deep and commanding voice,

"Stop! Go get cleaned up," Nodding towards his servant and referring to her blood covered hands and arms, "And then you go, and you wait for me by the Great Hall. NOW!" She shuffled towards him quickly, head held low, bowing as she went. She darted to the screen in between their beds and retrieved her Hogwarts robes before dashing out of the door, giving Hermione a fleeting look before exiting.

"And you'll be cleaning this later!" He shouted after her, nodding to Ron and then following her in a large huff, slamming the door behind him, causing the walls to reverberate around them. Ron was a little shocked at Harry's outburst but had a strange feeling that it had been deliberate. They had after all been discussing how perfect he was and how so far from it Ron was. Ron inwardly grinned at his best friend trying to show that he too could be a tyrant if he wanted, if only to make Ron seem a little less monstrous. But now he had to deal with her, and the mess she was currently sat in, inwardly sighing as he moved towards her.

~x~x~x~

Hermione waited, still spluttering a little, face filled with blood and feathers, hot liquid dribbling all over her. She felt an idiot and as Master Weasley glared at her she groaned inwardly. He moved suddenly towards his bed and sat beside her roughly. She squirmed in discomfort before finally making a rushed move to flop in front of him, bowing as low as she could, barely breathing, trying the ignore the stream of blood still cascading gradually from her nose and the stuffy feeling she was left with as it steadily began to clot. She heard him abruptly move away from her and open a draw before returning, sounding as though he had placed something very large and very heavy upon his lap.

It was a few moments before he moved again, taking her gently by the chin and lifting her face up towards him. She could see a thick book resting open on his lap, a wand in his hand as he stared down at the pages, apparently thinking hard. She quickly closed her eyes and moved her head down again, fearing what would happen if she dared to witness the magic he was undoubtedly about to perform. It was thought, by some, that Muggleborns could only steal magic from other witches and wizards, and she didn't want anybody to be falsely accusing her of anything.

"Look at me. And don't breathe a word of this to anyone." He muttered, and she cautiously lifted her head, staring directly into his brilliantly clear eyes. He suddenly aimed his wand into her face, and fear gripped her chest. It must have been evident in her expression because he pursed his lips tightly and took hold of her shoulder to steady her slightly. Waving his wand over her shuddering body he muttered lightly,

"Episkey," followed by "Tergeo." She felt her nose stop bleeding immediately and click back into its rightful place with minimal pain. A warm water-like wash fell over her face and then her entire body, steadily removing the blood that had stained all it had touched. She opened her eyes wide, in awe of the simple spell, staring up at him, but her Master simply continued looking down at the book and make various flicking movements with his wand. She pulled away from his hands once more and sat back into herself; look intently at the wooden floor and debating what to say to him. He had fixed her face and cleaned her up. He hadn't shouted at her.

"I'm sorry," She choked out hoarsely, the words sticking in her throat, feeling that it would be in both of their interest to just apologise, regardless of whether she felt the need to give one or not.

"For Merlin's sake, when will you learn Hermione?" She looked at him, staring feebly as he snapped the book shut with a loud clap, moving to place in back into one of his drawers and storing his wand into his back pocket. He had a sad look in his eyes, a pitiful look, filled with remorse for her. "You're going to have to clean this up you know that don't you?"

She felt heavily uncomfortable to be around him, trying to shift away from him slightly and nodding hurriedly at the same time. He shuffled back into the centre of his bed, picking up the plate of food from his bedside table that Hermione had brought him earlier, biting into an apple and chewing it thoughtfully. He paused and then looked at her awkwardly, "Err...apple?" He held out the half-eaten fruit to her, and she looked at it, incredibly confused,

"Um...No...Thank you." She struggled out, eyeing his hand as he then tapped the bed beside him with the other. Looking behind her to first check that he wasn't beckoning someone else, she gingerly got to her feet, sitting lightly beside him. She twitched uneasily, and he held the apple out to her again. She shook her head, trying to look everywhere but at him.

"Why were you writing to him?" He asked suddenly, causing her even more distress than before. She gave him a long silence, trying to think how to phrase what she was about to say properly. It felt ridiculous having to justify her need to talk to her friends, but she was careful when responding to him,

"It's nice to have someone to talk to that's not too close to you physically."

"What is he your emotional support owl or something?" Master Weasley cut in quickly,

"Well…Yes. He's a good listener and always knows what to say." They fell into silence once more. Clearly not knowing what else to do, he held the apple out to her yet again, causing her to give a small chuckle,

"I don't want your stupid apple you idiot!" She said laughing, but stopped suddenly, realising what she had said. The smile faltered from her face quickly as she waited to be reprimanded.

Yet he abruptly stood, leaving the apple and the rest of the food behind, and making stealthily for the door. He stood rigidly with his hand on the door handle, clasping it tightly. He seemed to be considering what to say to her next,

"You have the rest. I don't want it." He seemed to settle for, turning the handle.

"Ron!" Hermione cried out suddenly, standing and taking a step towards him. She watched him freeze, seemingly not daring to turn around to face her. "I mean...Master...I..." She felt a little confused with herself, feeling stupid for daring to use his name, even more stupid for not knowing why she had. As she momentarily pondered herself, she realised that she couldn't recall the last time she had used his name but guessed that it couldn't have been in front of him, or he would have made sure that she remembered it.

She wasn't even sure of what she had intended to say to him on this occasion and the silence that filled the air was thick as he now turned slowly to look at her, a bewildered and shocked look on his face. Deciding not to say anything she hurriedly made her way towards him, and he took a step backwards, colliding with the door as she moved onto her tiptoes and slipped her arms around his neck. Dragging him towards her she rested her chin upon his shoulder and felt him stiffen at her embrace.

Hermione guessed that he was unsure of how to respond. She wasn't even sure of how she should react, or what she should do now, feeling awkward and foolish. They had been warring for five years now and he had taken full advantage of having her as his slave during that time. He had spent the entire time berating her, attempting to anger her, or outright causing her public humiliation. But now she felt the need to thank him for helping her, struggling to get the words out. The internal battle within herself between reason and emotion seemed to cease and she released him. This seemed to free him from his stony trance, and he spontaneously reciprocated by placing his arms around her tiny waist and giving her a quick squeeze in return.

But she still pulled away again, red faced and blushing, finally able to muster him a muttered, "Thank you…For helping…" Waiting for him to make the next move. She regretted her actions instantly. He would likely explode at her and compounded with all that had already happened that day it would likely be volatile, and she internally braced for it. Yet he simply turned abruptly and left. She was alone with only the faint rays of sunshine still filtering in through the window, glossing over her icy skin and warming her cold face of confusion.

~x~x~x~

It was always cold in Viktor's quarters, particularly in the dead of winter, and today was no exception. As he walked into his spacious, circular room he threw off his long fur cloak and furry hat, and sat, still in his blood - red robes, at a wide wooden desk, fingering the unopened letter he had spent hours constructing.

Durmstrang was smaller than Hogwarts had been, being only four stories high, the largest rooms upon the topmost floor, one of which Viktor had inhabited for many years. It was cold and dark, lit only by soft candlelight, barely illuminating the deep shadows of the large bed and various chests of draws and wardrobes. The intricately carved marble fire in the room was lit only for specific magical purposes or in great times of need.

As he lent backwards in his chair, resting on the back two legs, and looking out of a frosted window, his eyes drifted idly into the castle's extensive grounds. From where he sat, he could see a large river that led from a tall, not - so - distant mountain. It spread through a vast forest and out towards an ocean, which lapped lazily against the rock faces and could occasionally, upon a quite night, be heard blissfully washing over itself. Upon the opposite side of the old fortress lay two great lakes, blacker than the night sky, even in the summer when light flooded the castle for the first time in months, allowing the students to safely fly their broomsticks for hours on ends around the grounds.

He looked over to his bed thinking of the hours he'd spent there thinking about her. About his Hermione. Rereading her letters over and over. She had not written to him in months, and he was desperate to hear from her, even more desperate to see her, and to be with her. He had relished in the time that they had spent together, angered by how her Master had treated her, and enraged that she could not have accompanied him back to his home where he could have cared for her and made her comfortable.

He had always had issues with her Master, that Ron Weasley, the weird one who had pestered for his autograph and then shunned and slated him as he removed Hermione from him. Then dribbling over the girls from Beauxbaton, even taking to half-stalking Viktor's fellow competitor of the Triwizard Tournament, the beautiful and elegant, blond-haired Fleur Delacour. He had screamed at her in the corridor, begging her to go with him to the Yule Ball, much to her embarrassment and his glee. Their relationship had later been sealed as Hermione had joined Viktor to the same ball, despite Muggleborns being forbidden and exempt from invite. He had insisted upon it to his headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, reasoning that it would show that Durmstrang could be just as inclusive towards the slaves as Hogwarts was.

He had loved when she came to see him compete in the tasks, though was often jealous of the support she had shown her friends Master, Harry Potter. True their relationship was suspicious, but Viktor was entirely sure that it was purely platonic. Both were fully aware of their positions and the nature of their status. Not that he cared in the slightest. He wanted to share his world with her. The laws were different in Bulgaria, even though the prejudice remained the same. She could make a new life with him, with more freedom and the chance to be happy. He was determined to take Hermione away from Hogwarts, forever.


Japan's Arc Angel x