Alrighty, this is a day early because. 1) I couldn't wait and 2) I'm about to be neck deep in midterm outlines so I probably wouldn't remember tomorrow. Hope y'all like this one and the two new characters (they're honestly some of my favorite originals), I very much appreciate you being here. Happy Friday!

Love,

Adrien

Just a Reminder: Anything written like this that isn't a letter will be when the characters are speaking Bulgarian. :o)

Disclaimer: Anything recognizable comes from the sandbox J. K. Rowling created and does not belong to me. The characters you don't recognize though, very much do belong to me. (I decided it was past do for my to bring some of my own toys into one of my very Potter sandcastles.)

Chapter Five: A Bright Future for a Bright Witch

Hermione looks down at the Floo address that Nayden had given her yesterday, the one that would drop her right into his office so that she didn't have to walk through town by herself if she didn't want to, before stepping into Viktor's fireplace and spinning away.

Today she had brought the rest of the team cookies along with another homemade lunch for Viktor because she thought it was sad that none of their significant others made the time to come visit them for lunch even though Nayden had told her that most of them didn't work. Besides, baking helped keep her busy and it was a nice break from the endless texts she scoured in an attempt to find ideas on getting Harry here undetected...and beating Voldemort...not to mention completing her education.

Hermione brushes the soot from her newly transfigured dress as she makes her way to the pitch at a leisurely pace. Frantic yelling coming from the other end of the tunnel has her picking up her pace, sprinting down the tunnel and out onto the field. Her basket falls to the ground as her eyes take in the figure falling too fast from the sky. Her wand is in her right hand, casting a silent cushioning charm on the ground, while her left hand goes through the motions of the first spell she ever learned, "Wingardium Leviosa!" It's too late to stop him but it slows his impact and the cushioning charm lessens his landing.

She's beside the man moments after he lands, casting spells she'd seen Madame Pomfrey use so many times she'd had them memorized before her first year ended. Wandlessly and silently summoning two potions from her bag, she looks up at the crowd she hadn't realized had gathered around her until this moment. "Does he have any allergies?" She asks, searching the helpless faces of his teammates.

"Just aconite, child," an unfamiliar voice draws her attention to a shorter, less burly man that she had never seen before.

Her eyes take in his healer's robes and widen, her cheeks burning. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to overstep. I just acted." She worries her bottom lip in between her teeth as she stares up at the man who is old enough to be her grandfather.

"No need to apologize, child. Had you not acted, he would be dead right now." He smiles kindly and squats down beside Hermione. "Now what exactly are you wanting to give young Aleksandar?"

"This is similar to Skelegrow in that it regrows bones but unlike Skelegrow, its taste isn't repulsive and it numbs the area of the newly forming bone so that the patient doesn't feel pain as it regrows. For his broken arm." She holds up the first, slightly larger vial before holding up the second, smaller vial. "And this will heal his concussion so he won't have to worry about that when he wakes up."

"Amazing! Are they new? I've never heard of them before." The older man tilts his head to the left, a curious kind of gleam entering his eyes that Hermione is more than familiar with. She and Viktor both get the same one when something they want to look into sparks their interest after all.

"They're my own creation," she admits, blushing once again.

"Have a lot of need for these in your life, young one?" he asks, his eyebrow raised as he hands her the two vials. There's a different kind of curiosity in his eyes now, the kind that takes over when you come across something puzzling. Though their is also a tinge of worry taking softening the curiosity.

"More than you'd ever believe," she replies, a smirk tugging at her lips as all hers and Harry's misadventures flash through her mind's eye. She uncorks the smaller vial first and pours it into the injured man's, Aleksandar's, mouth. Gently massaging his throat, she makes sure he swallows all of the potion before pouring the larger vial into his mouth and repeating the process.

"Have you ever thought about being a healer, young one?" the older man whose name Hermione still doesn't know asks, offering her his hand as he stands up.

"I had but my circumstances changed and I had to drop out of school recently to move here so any career that requires an education will have to wait until I can get everything sorted out back in Britain," Hermione explains, taking his hand and allowing the older man to pull her to her feet.

"If you were willing, I would be proud to call you my apprentice. With your intelligence, I'm sure we can work around your lack of schooling." His gentle grip on her hand is the only thing that keeps her from falling on her ass and he makes her the offer.

Hermione stares at the older man in complete astonishment. "I would… I would be more than willing to be your apprentice!" Before she even comprehends what she is doing, her arms are around the older man's neck and she is crushing him in a hug. "Thank you so much for the opportunity, I promise I won't disappoint you." The young woman pulls away from the older man and holds her hand out to him. "My name is Hermione Granger."

"I don't think you could ever disappoint me, young one. My name is Marceau Angelov." He grips her hand in a firm handshake and her eyes widen once again because that name is familiar. She can't even count how many articles she had read by him, how many breakthroughs he had made, and he wanted her to be his apprentice. She hadn't even known he was a team healer now! "You can come in tomorrow morning at six to start your apprenticeship but, for now, I think you and your young man should head home. I think Coach Petrov will agree with me when I say that all of you should head home for today and spend some time with your loved ones." Marceau flicks his wand and Aleksandar's body is hovering in the air. "I'm going to take my leave now and contact Aleksandar's family. I will see you all tomorrow." The crowd of players silently parted for their healer and teammate.

A strong hand grips her shoulder and she turns to see Nayden's tear filled eyes and grateful smile. "Thank you," he whispers before crushing her in a tight hug. "You heard Healer Angelov! I don't want to see any of you until tomorrow morning!" Nayden calls out after pulling away from Hermione and before leaving the pitch in the same direction as Marceau and Aleksandar.

After Nayden's leave, each of the players pulled Hermione into their arms and offered their thanks until (finally) a familiar set of arms is crushing her to his chest she is breathing in Viktor's scent.

"You are absolutely amazing, Mila. I feel like I don't tell you that enough," Viktor murmurs, his voice rough with tears.

"You tell me that everyday," Hermione's voice is muffled by Viktor's uniform but he hears her clearly enough.

"And I'll keep telling you until you believe me," Viktor laughs, pulling away just far enough to kiss the top of her head.

Hermione grins sheepishly up at him before changing the subject. "Let's go home."

Viktor shoots her a goofy smile before wrapping his arm around her waist and leading her off the pitch.

The rest of their night is quiet. Both teens lost in their own thoughts. Winky refuses to let them do anything, spoiling them with their favorite foods and making sure the two magicals are comfortable.

When they separate to sleep for the evening, there is a tense pause.

Viktor's eyes lock with hers and Hermione holds his gaze.

More than anything she wants him to kiss her.

Sure, she could do the Gryffindor thing and kiss him but what if that changed everything?

What if he didn't feel the same way?

Ten tense heartbeats later, Hermione rises to her toes and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

In return, Viktor gently squeezes her hip and gives her the smile that she knows is only for her before both teens close their doors for the evening.

Hermione sleeps peacefully like she had every night since he'd given her sanctuary, the alarm charm on her wand pulling her away from pleasant dreams with just enough time to get ready for her first day.

A quick shower later has her making her way down the stairs, dressed in a comfortably transfigured cotton dress and her favorite boots.

"Good morning, Mila," Viktor greets her with a kiss to the crown of her head and a mug of tea pressed to her hands.

"Good morning," Hermione replies, smiling up at him before taking a sip of her tea.

A loud pop makes both magicals jump as a familiar fiery elf makes her appearance. Her large eyes never leaving the basket in her hands as she checks over its contents for what Hermione has no doubt is at least the third time.

"Winky has made master and mistress lunch. Make sure yous both eat it all or Winky will be most displeased," Winky states, giving both teens a warning look as she places the basket on the counter in front of them.

"Good morning to you too, Miss Winky," Viktor laughs, smiling at the little elf.

Hermione rolls her eyes at the man beside her though her smile mirrors Viktors, "Thank you, Miss Winky. We appreciate you very much."

"Yous is most welcome but yous must be getting going. Can't be late on your first day," Winky replies, gently corralling the two magicals to the floo.

Hermione and Viktor both allow the elf to push them on their way, Hermione slinging her dragonhide bag over her shoulder as Viktor picks up both his duffle bag and their picnic basket.

They barely get to say goodbye on the other side of the floo before Hermione is whisked into the medical wing by Marceau and Viktor is taken to the locker room by Nayden.

And then Hermione is on her own, surrounded by mountains of paperwork as Marceau makes a variety of floo calls on her behalf.

"I hear you're the person I have to thank for both my speedy recovery and the fact that I recovered at all," a masculine voice pulls Hermione's attention away from the paperwork Marceau had her filling out in order to patent her completed potions which she didn't have that many of because she had been spending the majority of her time (the last two years in particular) working on a new form of the Polyjuice Potion that didn't take an entire month to brew, didn't require an absurd amount of rare ingredients, and didn't taste like goblin piss. But she did have five (including the two she'd used the day before to heal Aleksandar)…mostly because potions was the only practical magic she could do in the summer time without the ministry coming after her.

"You don't have to thank me, I was just doing what anyone would do. I'm so glad to see you've recovered well." Hermione grins, rising from her seat and walking toward the man whose raven hair reminds her of Harry but whose icy eyes and height remind her of Ron. "I'm Hermione Granger." She offers her hand to the man in front of her.

"Aleksandar Bachvarov but you can call me Alek." He grins, showing a large gap in between his front teeth and a dimple in both cheeks as he grips her hand in a firm shake just moments before tugging her into a tight hug. For some reason his hug feels familiar to her, like he's hugged her a thousand times even though she knows for a fact that she has never met this man before. He smells like the earth and old book pages…so similar to Professor Lupin that it's almost frightening… and Marceau now that she's thinking about it…

"Shouldn't you be at practice Aleksandar?" Marceau's voice makes the two of them split apart quickly, like two kids caught chatting during study hall…which they kind of were considering she was supposed to be working on her paperwork and he was supposed to be at practice.

"Just wanted to thank Miss Granger here before heading that way Healer Angelov," Alek states, grinning at the older man a bit sheepishly. "I'll be on my way now." He nods to both Hermione and Marceau before heading toward the door.

"Oh! Will you take these down to the others with you? I was going to send them with Viktor after we had lunch but I might as well send them with you now so that everyone can enjoy them at lunch instead of after practice." Hermione holds out the container of cookies she had brought with her yesterday but never gotten the chance to give the boys, the ones she'd placed in her bag last night so she wouldn't forget them come morning.

Alek grins widely and takes the container from her hands. "Thank you, Miss Granger. You better watch out though, you keep treating us like this and we'll never let you leave."

Hermione laughs. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind for next time. And you can call me Hermione, you know."

"Have a good day, Hermione."

"You as well, Alek."

"How is your paperwork going?" Marceau asks, pulling up a chair next to the desk he had set up next to his own for Hermione to work at.

"Really well, I'm just finishing up my last one now and then they'll be ready to send off," Hermione replies, smiling brightly at the older man as she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Magnificent because I have found a way for you to complete your schooling and officially become my apprentice!" Marceau exclaims, grinning as he pages through Hermione's completed forms.

"You did? How?" The smile that stretches across Hermione's cheeks hurts but it doesn't it doesn't matter because a big part of her hadn't thought she'd have a future, she'd thought Voldemort and Dumbledore had destroyed that or at least delayed it.

"You don't live as long as me without making a few connections, mon petit chou." Marceau grins, leaning back against his desk. The French endearment surprises Hermione even though it probably shouldn't considering his very French first name. "I called in a favor from an old friend and, after hearing your story, you can take the Bulgarian form of your British NEWTS either this month in two weeks or next month. I would honestly prefer that you take them earlier so that we can get you training as soon as possible but if you don't feel you're ready yet, we can wait until next month. If you so choose, you may also be given political asylum here in Bulgaria so that your British government cannot claim you a criminal or whatever other lie they can come up with in an attempt to get you back where you are not safe."

Hermione sinks down into her seat, running her fingers through her mane as relief and disbelief war in her mind. "Why have you done so much for me when you don't know me?" Hermione asks, genuine curiosity melting her milk chocolate eyes.

A soft, wistful smile tugs at Marceau's lips. "Because you remind me of someone I knew a long time ago. She was brilliant, more intelligent and inventive than I could ever hope to be, but no one will ever know her brilliance because she was never given a chance. However, she was born in a time when women were viewed as nothing more than home keepers to a family that wasn't willing to take the financial risk of sending her to school. She searched her entire life for someone who would take her under their wing as their apprentice and teach her but no one was willing to take the risk. I was too young then to help her and she was gone by the time I was a master in my own right with the ability to take her on as an apprentice. It's been eighty years and you're the only person I've met who's worth taking a risk on since Anelia."

"What happened to her?" Hermione asks, trying to blink away the tears that are blurring her vision.

"She fell in love with a wonderful woman named Éléonore who wanted to show her the world. They were going to run away together, to try and find somewhere more accepting of their love because neither of them wanted to hide something they knew deep in their souls to be right. I was helping them get their new visas together so they could leave without a trace and no one but me would ever be able to find them. Only, they never showed up the night they were meant to pick up their papers. Anelia's sister, Tsveta, told their parents that Anelia was planning to run away. Tsveta thought they would understand, that they would support Anelia. The night Éléonore and Anelia planned to leave, Anelia was given a choice: she could either leave Éléonore and marry me, the man she had been betrothed to since birth, or she could stand and fight with Éléonore. Anelia, of course, chose to fight. The two of them managed to take out more than half of the wizards Anelia's parents had brought in to 'take care of' them before Anelia took a fatal hit for Éléonore and Éléonore fell trying to protect her wounded lover. I was too late to help either of them."

The tears now streaming down Hermione's cheeks prevent her from seeing that Marceau also has tears dripping from his chin but she pulls him into a hug anyway. "I am so sorry for your friend."