Viktor, true to his word, made arrangements to teach her communicative legilimency, which was more a combination of legilimency and occlumency than pure legilimency. They were scheduled to meet that evening to discuss it at length. Hermione had used the day once already to talk to Severus and Draco. She was loath to double back on the holidays for something so unimportant, but figured the day could be used for other things as well.
Namely, getting the inevitable confrontation with Ron out of the way. She knew from his expression that she would be getting an earful later, not that she particularly deserved it. Hermione had long given up on this timeline's Ronald Weasley. Honestly, she had given up on the last timeline's Ron as well, but he had died by that time so it became a moot point. Of course, last-timeline Hermione had been enamored with Draco, although she knew that wasn't going anywhere. She almost wished Draco would forget the whole debacle, but the obliviate wasn't worth the risk (unfortunately).
Shaking those unsatisfactory thoughts off, Hermione got up properly from her classroom camp bed, stretched, and headed back to Gryffindor tower to face the music.
The music, however horrendous, did not disappoint. Ron gave an ugly sneer when he spotted her. "Oh look at that, the traitor arrives. Where were you, Hermione, spending time with dear old Vikky?"
"What the hell do you mean, Ronald?" Hermione asked, and even Harry was surprised by her vulgarity.
Harry took a few steps back, for good measure. He seemed to have already gotten the gist of Ron's feelings – she was sure he had ranted about it the whole night before. "I mean, Hermione, you've become some sort of… loose cow!"
Hermione's eyes bogged out. "Pray tell how you think I'm either loose or a bovine?" She said with a dangerously dark tone. "Ronald, no matter how much jealousy you had that I was Victor's date, it's no reason to take it out on me."
Ron spluttered, and Harry snorted with laughter. She had accurately anticipated his utter horror as seeming to fancy Viktor. It was pretty rare in Wizarding culture, after all, to find an openly gay individual. Especially for a pureblood, the stigma ran almost as deep as it did in the Muggle world. Some such rot about preserving the bloodlines – as if anything could stop the Weasley progeny!
"I'm, I'm not some sort of… nancy boy. But selling yourself to Victor for attention makes you worse than that!"
A hush fell over the common room, and their housemates, who had been pretending not to listen in, were now openly staring at them. "My relationship with Victor," Hermione growled, "Remains none of your business. You have called me loose, you have called me a cow, and now you sink even further by calling me a whore. Well, Ronald, you've said one thing right this evening."
The quiet became deafening over the common room, hanging onto her word. "Someone has become a traitor tonight." And on that note, she glided up the stairs to the girl's dorms, unintentionally looking quite like Severus with her billowing black cloak.
She didn't turn around, not even when Ron got over the shock of what just happened and called up to her. "Hermione! I, I didn't mean it!" She snorted. Of course he didn't mean it. He was a boy with a crush, and they were prone to doing stupid things when they were denied the object of their desire. Fate was a funny one, that was for sure. For instead of Harry and Ron being estranged this year, it was her and Ron, leaving Harry in the middle. Good riddance, if Ron didn't realize what sort of mistakes he made, he was more of a lost cause than she thought.
Hermione tried to slam her door, but it thudded back open with a lot of force. Ginny had blocked it with her foot. "Ginny, I know you love your brother, but I don't know if I can handle a speech about forgiveness right now."
Ginny snorted, and pulled out what was unmistakably two bottles of Butterbeer. "Good, 'cause you won't get one." She handed a bottle to Hermione, who took it gratefully. She could do with something warm. She took a sip, letting the heat wash over her. The drink wasn't alcoholic in the least, but it still had a sort of heat to it that warmed her up.
"Ron's a blasted idiot." Ginny said, taking a swig from her bottle much like one might take a sip of a beer. "And he's got a mad crush on you-" She held up a hand so Hermione wouldn't interrupt. "Not excusing his actions by any means. Honestly it probably makes it worse."
"I know." Hermione said simply.
"You know it makes it worse?" Ginny said, confused. They were now both sitting on Hermione's four-poster, her resting against the headboard and Ginny opposite her.
Hermione gave her a look. "No, Ginny. I've known for a while now."
"Hang on- you knew he had a crush on you? How?" She gave Ginny another look, this one so droll that she really needed no words. "Ok, ok, fine. He's one of your best friends and you're a right deal more perceptive than him. Or really any of the other Gryffindors."
"Oh, don't put yourself down, Ginny. You're very perceptive too."
Ginny smiled mischievously. "Maybe I am. I don't think anyone else's noticed that you sneak out more than any other Gryffindor. Not even your own dorm-mates."
Hermione tensed. This, she couldn't possibly have imagined. She was warded, disillusioned, and spelled against sight, sound, or smell. Yet still, Ginny could sense her. "Whatever do you mean?" Hermione said, casually taking a sip of her Butterbeer.
"The portraits like me." She said smugly. "I've learned that smarmying up to them can be dead useful. They're not like ghosts, you know, that are so disconnected from reality that they barely notice what's happening in the castle. They're stuck in the exact same personality and temperament they had when they died. And that means any busy-body from their living years can't help but be a busy-body here. It's in their blood – or paint, I should say."
Hermione hadn't known that, actually, but she did know that wizarding paintings were quite dynamic. "I don't understand where you're going with this, Ginny."
"Oh stop denying it!" Ginny said, angry now. "I thought I was your friend, Hermione. Friends don't keep secrets!"
She grimaced, knowing just too well how hotheaded a slighted Gryffindor could be. "Ginny, I will tell you. I will. But I can't right now."
"An oath?"
"Not quite." Hermione said truthfully. It wasn't a Wizarding oath, in the magically-binding sense. But it was an oath she made to herself, and more importantly to Draco and Severus and the entire cause. She could've just told Ginny she had a time-turner, and been done with it. But she hadn't studied occlumency (not many had, especially at her age) and it was a security risk. At the very least, Dumbledore would be even more suspicious of her. At the worst, Barty Crouch or Poppy Pomphrey or even Viktor Krum could read her thoughts like a book.
"Alright, I won't pry." Ginny said finally. "Cause I trust you not to be doing something stupid, and partially cause of what my brother just did. But I want an answer later, alright?"
Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Ginny."
Ginny took another swig from her Butterbeer. "What are friends for?" She said very cheerfully. But when she thought Hermione wasn't looking, her expression was guarded and suspicious. Hermione knew she would have to be more careful, but there was an easy fix for this.
"Obliviate!" Hermione said very softly. "You will forget that Hermione Granger sneaks out at night. You will forget this confrontation, but you will remember everything else."
Ginny's eyes glazed over for a moment, and she returned to her normal snarky self.
"I'm sorry that my brother's been such a clot to you. I'll go knock some sense into him, if I can."
Hermione looked at her gratefully, trying to keep the guilt from creeping up and settling low in her stomach. "Thanks, Ginny. You're a good friend."
Ginny grinned, hopped up, and took one last swig of her Butterbeer. "Blimey, I didn't realize I had drunk this much."
Hermione didn't know what to say to that, so she just raised her own drink in farewell.
It was with a heavy heart and busy mind that Hermione transfigured her cloak much warmer, left Gryffindor Tower, and trekked out to see Viktor near the Durmstrang ship. Hermione was all too happy to learn a new skill, and perhaps even a new ally. She could see communication via legilimency becoming a very useful skill indeed.
She was a bit confused at the sheer density of legilimens at the school. She knew it was considered a rare ability, along with occlumency, for those not lucky enough to have natural skill had to practice almost constantly to learn. From her studies, she learned that one in twelve grown witches and wizards had the potential for an easy, if painful, way to learn occlumency. One in a hundred was the same for legilimency, and it was something as rare as one in a hundred thousand for a complete natural in either practice.
Severus Snape just happened to be one in a million – a natural legilimens, and someone for whom occlumency came remarkably easily. It was this method he tried to use on Harry to build up his occlumency shields, but Harry was one of the many ungifted in the population. Severus's attacks would've been completely ineffective for Harry, but Severus must've been unaware of that. Maybe Lily Potter had been a quick learner, so he was expecting it to carry genetically?
She was also one for whom the quick method would never work, but Hermione Granger had never shied away from years and years of intensive study. She had studied – in secret – ever since Harry got assigned lessons in fifth year. By the time Draco taught her more formally, she was already in possession of a sizable mind-palace and mental defenses. The well-organized mind was a protected mind, after all.
But Hogwarts, for whatever reason, seemed to have more than their share of occlumens and legilimens. Severus and Albus, she could see. But Poppy, Crouch, and – she suspected – Minerva, not to mention a good portion of the Slytherin students, were all proficient for their age. That wasn't even including Viktor or Karkaroff, Madam Maxime (who had an advantage of being half-giant, making her pretty un-legilimance-able), Septima, Fleur, her twin friends Margot and Anton, and a half-dozen others she hadn't interacted with. That was too many to be natural, or even easy for them to learn. They must have learned like her, painstakingly slowly.
Although, considering the past and future political climates, those occlumens and legilimens were the most useful and dangerous members of society. And the magical portions of WWII still shook the continent, so it made sense that so many members of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were trained in the mind arts. They probably taught electives on them.
She finally reached the ship, where Viktor was waiting patiently. "Hermyon," he said seriously. "I am glad you haff come."
"I wouldn't miss it, Viktor." She said sweetly, and let him kiss her hand. "Where do you want to do this?" She asked a bit awkwardly. Her go-to spot, the Room of Requirements, was currently occupied by past-Hermione and Draco.
"I haff varded a field in the forest," he said smugly. She had the distinct impression that he was showing off. "Come, ve vill speak there."
He cast a low-powered Notice-Me-Not charm, just enough for no one to find them walking into the Forbidden Forest significant, and they went into the woods without event. Hermione was shivering by the time they had trekked far enough for the castle to disappear, replaced by thousands of brown trunks and snowdrifts. "Are you cold, Hermyone?"
Viktor was already taking off his Durmstrang furs, and slinging them around her shoulders. "Thank you, Viktor," she said appreciatively. The moment the furs settled around her, she felt as if the cold had disappeared, replaced by what might as well be a pleasant spring breeze. "These must be enchanted!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's some powerful stuff."
"I did it myself, Hermyone." He said proudly. "Stitched vith runes on the inside, reinforced vith enchantments on the outside." She wanted very much to examine the overcoat, but she was much more fond of the heat it gave off. "Ah, ve haff made it." He pushed aside a branch, brought low with almost a foot of snow, and it revealed a clearing free of snow. In fact, there was a great swath of grass in the clearing, and she could see buds springing up within the circle.
"Wow, when have you had the time to make this, Viktor?" Hermione asked, partially impressed and partially confused by why one would spend so very much time creating a geothermally independent bubble in a magically saturated forest. But it had an advantage, she realized, that it was right outside of Hogwart's own wards. Just far enough that he could jump back in at a sign of danger, but also that he could cast any sort of magic, and anyone could apparate in and out at will. Very clever.
"Vell, once I became school champion, Headmaster Karkaroff told me I vas free to train however I liked. I vould haff to take my Abitur exams – you call them NEWT's, I haff been told – but he thinks they are overrated for me." She was sure Viktor didn't agree, by the look on his face. She remembered him telling her about his parents, and how they always pushed him towards academia. "I created this so my tutors can come to teach me. Karkaroff is… not a teacher I vould like to learn from. And he is the only von here."
She had no idea, the last time around, that Viktor had gone to such lengths to continue his education. And that, at the same time as he was attending weekend Quiddich practices for the Bulgarian team, and preparing for the tournament. She idly wondered if he could possibly have a time-turner as well.
Viktor led her to the clearing, and she felt the wards wash over her as she entered. Suddenly, his lovely enchanted cloak was suffocatingly warm, and she took it off almost immediately. The clearing really was beautifully crafted. Now that she was on the inside, she could see the stone circle that lined the clearing. On the outside, it was hidden by snow, and she had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn't have seen the clearing at all if Viktor hadn't wanted her to.
"Is this… a fairy circle?" She asked tentatively. Viktor nodded silently. "Viktor, this is amazing!"
"It is standard fair at Durmstrang," he waved off her praise. "Do not tell Karkaroff – he is qvite paranoid – but ve are located in Svalbard, the most northern island in Norvay. It is considered very small, by mundanes, because ve have put a dozen circles on the land. The biggest one, vith the castle, is spelled to haff four seasons, vhere ve are never too cold. It takes very large amounts of magic, vich is vy Durmstrang takes students from everyvhere. The students bring in the magic, and so long as there are students, the entire valley stays very moderate."
She gaped, both at the information and his willingness to share it with her. And, the part of her that was still impressed by new forms of magic whispered, that fairy circles were real.
"I haff brought you here, Hermyone, for many reasons." Viktor said slowly. "Virst, I vanted to prove to you that ve have a very different upbringing. The fairy circles only touch the surface of these differences. But ve seem to haff similar views, despite this. I haff thought about my actions last night, and I haff decided I vas too reckless in my accusation. Residue from Dark Magic can be from casting or from being cast upon, I am avare."
Hermione kept herself from snorting. It was easy enough to say that in hindsight, when she was clearly in the latter category. "Viktor, I do not blame you for your actions yesterday. In fact, I'm glad you brought it to my attention, so I could fix the issue altogether." She spread her arms out, inviting him to look for any residue.
He stared at her very intently, and finally came in close to her. He pressed his body to hers in a tight hug, and she stiffened. That was the downfall of the charm she used. It was only effective as long as she avoided physical contact with anyone who could detect it. "I see." Was all he said. "This vould vork, you are correct. But it vill keep you from healing, Hermyone."
She moved her head back, which had been stuffed into Viktor's shoulder when he hugged her. "I used rectaponerequae. That can't possibly keep it from healing."
"It vas a spell meant to contain magic, Hermyone, not to dispel it. You vould need a healer to pull something that dark from you." He grimaced, and broke their hug. "Vhatever you have done to yourself vas very foolish, Hermyone, and I vould like to understand this story. But that is not my only reason for bringing you here. I promised to teach you to communicate through legilimency, and I vill."
AN: Sorry guys, this is going to be one doozy of an authors note. Firstly, Rectaponerequae is latin that has been botched beyond belief, but it uses the words right, contain, and small. Together, it can be interpreted as contain in the right small space. It's about as realistic as "Sectumsempera" which means "always cut." Additionally, I know some readers might be upset that Hermione used Ron potentially being gay as an insult in this chapter. Let me just distance myself from this by saying Hermione is using whatever tools she can in her arsenal to embarrass Ron, and her actions do not reflect my own beliefs.
Please continue to tell me what you like, what you'd like to see, and if I've mis-spelled anyone else's names (Viktor and Parvati have taken those hits so far). Does anyone have any feedback on Viktor's accent? I have put way more effort than I thought I would to keep his words consistent to canon.
References: The two methods for learning Occlumency come from The Sinister Man's Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin, which has been considered the hallmark of HP fanfiction by many. It's definitely worth a read, even though it's already 700k words and still running :P. I'm sure many of you have read it, but my dad has not. Dad, if you read my authors notes, you should read HPatPoS. Lord knows I've talked to you about it enough.
Background on Svalbard: Svalbard is a real place, which was a surprise to me (I first read about it in Phillip Pullman's The Golden Compass). It's one of the most northern settlements that is inhabited full-time, and the muggles think it's very small and inhospitable.
Background on Durmstrang: Abitur tests are very similar to A Levels in German university prep. Thanks to hule for the info and spelling! A lot of influence for Durmstrang comes from German and Germanic languages (including Swedish, Norwegian, and Old Norse). The Wizarding World, which moves much slower than the Muggle World in general, kept their linguistic and social ties even as people moved across the continent and created very very different cultures. Durmstrang feeds from the entire Proto-Indo European language tree, but most heavily from the Germanic branches.