When Viktor had envisioned 'all of the family's considerable resources', he had not meant his mother going to Hogwarts.

"I know you may be a little displeased with me—"

"A little?"

"—but when I read the stars, my involvement provided the best outcome."

"I don't care if Lady Magic herself came into existence and spoke to you personally!" He shouted at the fireplace, where his mother's visage was currently etched into the hot coals.

She was completely unrepentant. "The stars told me, Viktor. The stars."

He scrubbed a hand over his face. "You have got to be kidding me. Mother, the stars are one of the least reliable instruments. You've told me they're notoriously inconsistent to use as a predictive tool."

"Most of the time." Casually, she shrugged a shoulder. "But Viktor, darling, you forget—I'm Milena Krum."

"Yes, I know that," he snapped. "You're one of the foremost diviners in the world. But that doesn't mean you can't be wrong! And besides, I don't think Hermione places much stock in these kinds of things."

Milena made a considering face. "She did seem to be a bit dubious about Divination when we spoke. What did she call it? Ah, that's right—I think the word she used was mundane."

Viktor groaned.

"Have no fear," his infuriating, meddling, troublesome mother continued cheerfully, "once I get the Divination curriculum whipped into shape she'll see the error of her ways!"

Just when he thought he couldn't get any more horrified, he was proven wrong. "Curriculum? As in, teaching curriculum?"

"Ah, yes." Her expression turned vaguely guilty. "I may have, hrm, taken over that role for the semester. The stars foretold of her imminent departure and I just knew it was a calling to take her place!"

"So you just went to Hogwarts?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Well," she hedged, "I may have sent a letter first offering my services, but I followed shortly thereafter. Very shortly. And just like I was told when I read the numbers that morning during breakfast, Dumbledore was quite happy to see me. Ergo, I am now a welcome and valued member of the Hogwarts staff who can aid your star on her way to finding you." Her tone was triumphant.

"Absolutely not!" Viktor wanted to reach through and shake his mother. While she could be impetuous and flighty at times, she always had the best of intentions with her actions. But this...this was his life, and his star—his only star, his fated one—and he didn't want any meddling.

"This is between me and Hermione," he told her, "and I don't want you involved in any way. Couldn't you just leave and go back to Bulgaria? Don't you have other work you should be doing? Fulfilling our family obligations, or, or," he cast about for something else, "consulting work?"

"Oh, Nevena is perfectly capable of seeing to my duties for a few months," Milena said airily. "It's why we've paid her an enormous salary for the last thirty years to be our retainer. Besides, Calista has become more confident as she's gotten her feet under her, so I think she'll be fine handling the things that Nevena can't."

Viktor thought Calista, his brother's wife of a few years, had fewer brain cells than a flabberghasted leech, but if his mother said she was capable, then he trusted her. After all, Viktor didn't particularly understand the society-minded witch, so it could be he was underestimating her skills.

"Regardless of their capabilities," he said, "I find it hard to believe that you've simply gone on vacation from the familial duties. The house will be rather upset."

"The house has survived my absence before and it will most certainly do so again," his mother told him, unconcerned.

"The last time you were gone longer than a week, the kitchen disappeared, the piano wouldn't stop playing a funeral elegy, and all the fireplaces stopped working. I don't know if I would call that surviving—I for one would not like to experience that again!"

"It will all work out, I'm sure of it," his mother said firmly. "Trust me, Viktor. I know what I'm doing."

o-O-o

"You." Hermione Granger poked a very angry finger in his chest, her hair literally crackling she was so irritated. "How dare you send your mother to spy on me!"

"Hello to you too," he responded, taking a hold of her hand and kissing the top of her extremely pointy, bony finger that was likely going to leave a bruise. "How was your day?"

She seethed with anger as he failed to rise to the bait, and he wondered if her hair would actually electrocute him if he touched it.

Eh, best not test that one.

"My day?" she asked. "My day? Let's just put it like this: if I have to hear one more thing about how great you are or be around one more person who discusses you, I'll—I'll-"

Greatly entertained, he asked, "You'll…?"

The jinx she shot at him point blank was extremely unpleasant but not, he thought as he stared at the perpetually dusky sky, completely unwarranted. "Ow."

"Drat," he heard her murmur. "Now I'm having a stirring of conscience."

Moments later he and her hair, which was slightly less terrifying looking, loomed over at him. "Don't be such a baby," she snapped even as she ran her eyes over him and held out a hand to pull him to his feet. "It was a class one jinx."

He rubbed his chest. "Shot point blank. But—" he held up a hand to forestall any further arguing, "it doesn't matter. Look, about my mother—she went on her own without telling me. I floo-called her today when my brother told me she'd given all her work to my sister-in-law, and she admitted it." Wryly, he said, "I yelled. A lot."

Hermione jabbed her hand into her pocket. "So you didn't send her?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm rather mad myself. I'm not going to send my mother to do my work for me."

"Well," she said tartly, "that's one point in your favour. But Viktor?"

She took something out of her pocket and slapped it into his hand. "Try again. Oh, and stop sending me letters with your direction on them. Actually, stop sending me letters full stop. That would be something I enjoyed most thoroughly. Thank you and goodbye."

With that, she disappeared, leaving him with his first courting gift (which the much-beloved A Pureblood's Guide to Courting Right had recommended) sitting heavily in his hand.

"Would you stop doing that?" he yelled at the empty air, frustrated that she kept disappearing without letting him get a word in edgewise. Obviously it was to no effect since she had already left, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "All I wanted to do was talk. Is that really too much to ask?"

AN: I would like to note this story is complete balderdash that I enjoy writing when I take breaks from working on Hunting Shadows, and thus has no set posting schedule except for "I finished it, I edited it, and my alpha reader approved it". (Aka pls don't anticipate quick updates like this frequently lmao) That being said, hope you enjoy this melodramatic ridiculousness!