The walk into Hogsmeade took less time than Hermione had imagined it would. She had been doing this walk for a year and it had never passed so quickly before. Hermione had been worried about how the conversation would flow between them, but it seemed one benefit of not having much time together recently was they had a lot to catch up on, Viktor was certainly chatty. Hermione wasn't sure where his reputation for being sullen came from, he was always happy enough when she spoke to him.
As they arrived in the bustling village, Hermione followed Viktor's lead until he stopped in front of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. Hermione took in the thick net curtains through the snow-dusted windows, and she felt her heart sink. She knew it was where everyone went for dates, admittedly the choices for students were pretty limited, and they would have attracted too much attention from the ample afternoon crowd in the Three Broomsticks, but she couldn't help but feel… limp. Hermione wistfully considered Viktor's possible reaction to date activities in the Muggle world; she had a suspicion he would love bowling and arcade games.
"Told this was where to go," Viktor said falteringly, some of his ease from the last half an hour beginning to dissipate when faced with her lack of reaction.
Hermione forced a smile on her face, determined to be polite, even if it killed her. "This looks great," she said, with what she hoped wasn't obviously false cheer.
Hermione had never been on a date before, had never had anyone, besides her parents, even plan a meal for her, it wasn't Viktor's fault that the embroidered prison was her idea of hell on earth. As Viktor looked relieved, Hermione resolved that she would get through this experience with good grace, even if suffering in silence wasn't exactly something she was known for.
As Viktor stepped in front of her and gallantly pushed open the heavily lacquered door, a tinkling bell signalled their arrival to the staff within. He stepped back against the inward opening so Hermione could walk through, and when her back grazed against his front in the limited space, she sucked in a breath. Hermione had never felt quite so awkward, she wouldn't have called herself graceful but Viktor made her feel so aware of her body, and his, that her limbs always felt like they were in the wrong place, making her more cumbersome than ever when they were together. Welcome distraction arrived in the form of a matronly witch, clad in an unflattering floral tabard who bustled them to a table in the far corner.
Hermione reached to pull off her warm jacket in reaction to the almost stifling heat of the room; she found that now she was inside the pink dollied dining room her nerves were beginning to ratchet again. As she folded herself into the small chair she felt her planned words die in her throat; the environment was so artificial she didn't know what to say. She threaded her fingers together to stop herself from fidgeting and watched Viktor's eyes sweep over the place with a mildly concerned expression. Hermione saw his mouth twitch several times, but no words were forthcoming, they both seemed to be searching for something, anything, to say, but Hermione was at a complete loss. Should she draw attention to the chintzy curtains? The old floral carpet? Or the ornately patterned plates?
Adding to her discomfort, Hermione was scared to move lest she dislodged some ornament or other, every surface in sight practically groaned under the weight of useless knick-knacks that she was sure all had a place. As the silence became oppressive, the witch who had greeted them at the door appeared again, carrying a loaded tray, offering tea and a selection of cakes and pastries. Hermione wondered whether her timing was just luck, or whether it had arisen from having overseen decades of adolescent awkwardness?
Hermione instantly reached for the teapot as Viktor held the tray up for her to make the first selection, apparently as pleased to have something to do as she was. As she sat up to peer across the tray, she sneezed as the very liberally applied powdered sugar formed a cloud following Viktor's rapid movement. Hermione hurriedly made her choice, averting her face to prevent further sneezing and offered Viktor a shy smile.
"Shall I pour?" she asked hesitantly, and Viktor nodded.
All she had to do now was lift the teapot again and pour the liquid without shaking. Come on Hermione, you can imobolize forty-five rioting Cornish Pixies, you can pour a bloody cup of tea.
"How was morning?" Viktor asked as he selected his own cake, eyeing the delicately iced confection wearily before putting it on one of the ridiculous side plates. Hermione thought to ask him if he often had cake, she knew that Oliver Wood was militant when it came to Quidditch and had often tried to enforce specialised diets on the house team, to improve performance. Suddenly such a question seemed and intrusive, and she forced herself to concentrate and remember what Viktor had already asked.
Hermione let out a sigh of pure relief as she placed the scalding teapot back on the table. "It was fun," she said enthusiastically, possibly letting some of her disbelief colour her tone. She had expected to loathe every minute of shopping, and as it turned out, she would happily repeat the experience. "Ginny and Luna came, we met my mum there."
Seeing her mother that morning had been a refresher on her parent's views on sweet things, Hermione couldn't fight back her wince as she felt the sprinkles within the cake she had just bitten into coat her tongue, it had looked relatively innocuous from the outside.
"Did you get dress?" Viktor asked, smiling out of one side of his mouth.
"Yes… I'm still not telling you though," Hermione countered bravely and Viktor laughed. As the noise rang out in the almost empty room, Hermione felt some of her anxiety slip away, the butterflies resident in her stomach quelled their flapping long enough for her to make another attempt at the secret glitter cake.
She was going to try, that's what she had said over lunch, try to push past her artless blundering. Luna had suggested that if she loosened up and didn't over think she would be all right, Hermione wasn't sure how quickly her friend anticipated she could achieve the total personality transplant she had recommended, maybe it was advice to put into practice for another day.
Their idle conversation continued, but Hermione couldn't get settled in the strange surroundings, it was throwing her; she thought that maybe Viktor was pleased with his choice till she looked up to find him subtly frowning at his hands. Hermione lifted herself out of her seat, very slightly, to see over the various pots on the table and noticed Viktor's large hands struggling to move the tiny cutlery. It was the strangest thing she had ever seen. She couldn't blame him for his confusion, what boy of seventeen had ever tried to manipulate what looked like a child's fork covered in pink glitter hearts? As Viktor dropped his knife, again, Hermione bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, and Viktor, apparently aware he now had an audience looked up to find her leaning over as his face became serious. Hermione might have been concerned that she had offended him, had she not known him so well, all that shared time in the library had taught her to look for the playful gleam in his eyes.
"Something is funny Hermione?" he asked lifting a heavy eyebrow.
Hermione shook her head, not trusting herself to speak as a bubble of mirth rose in her throat. Apparently taking her forced stoicism as a challenge, Viktor moved the knife away decidedly and instead picked up the ridiculously small teaspoon, with mouse and cheese motif handle, holding it in a parody of delicacy as he twirled it in his tea. Hermione made a strangled sound before giving into giggles, knocking over an ornamental china bell that Viktor thankfully caught before it hit the floor, though, given the exhalant pile of the carpet, the delicate ornament may have only bounced.
"We never come here again," Viktor said in a dramatic whisper, winking at her conspiratorially.
"That, I can manage," Hermione smiled happily, before reaching towards the tray again. "Cakes are good though," she conceded.
Viktor grinned and leant back in his chair. "Sorry, thought this would be good place," he said.
"It's ok, I've never actually been in here before, so I didn't want to say anything in case I was wholly wrong. It's a bit well… you know," she said, waving her hand to gesture at the room large, "but it was nice to try it."
"Never?… would have," Viktor began before he shook his head, "nevermind."
"Let's just finish our tea and leave?" Hermione suggested, more hint of a question in her tone that she would have liked. She didn't want to go back to the castle, not yet.
"I take you somewhere else?" Viktor replied, his tone was somehow half question, half assertion, but Hermione nodded anyway to make her feelings clear. She refreshed their cups with a great deal more ease now the large teapot was only half full and debated another pastry.
"You were going to tell me about the competition you had at Durmstrang, to come to the Triwizard," she said, offering another topic of conversation. Viktor had brought it up before in passing, and Hermione had found herself curious about it.
Viktor nodded, "Many seventh years wanted to take part, Karkaroff would only take twenty, we had to challenge for space. Five tasks, some thinking, some physical."
He seemed somewhat reticent to talk about it in detail, and so Hermione changed tack. "Wasn't that a massive undertaking for you, what with school and Quidditch and everything else?"
"Da… But, I wanted to come" Viktor confirmed with a shrug.
"Why?" she asked interestedly.
He smiled softly at her, and Hermione felt some of the slumbering butterflies reawakening, Viktor never got irritated by her endless questions the way everyone else did; he indulged her.
"Wanted to come to Britain, wanted to travel, have new experience," he explained.
Viktor selected another cake and after he struggled with the knife for several moments, Hermione took the implement from out of his warm fingers and cut it herself. When she retreated she felt Viktor's warm gaze linger on her and she twisted her hands in her lap.
"Did you know you were coming? When I saw you over the summer, I mean?" She hadn't intended to blurt the question, damn his disarming presence, Hermione had hinted at it before but had never come right out and asked him plainly.
"No," Viktor affirmed as he tore his eyes away from hers to pick up a napkin. "Durmstrang competition had not started then, but knew after meeting you I would get place," he replied looking at her intently. There was a challenge in his gaze that Hermione wasn't quite ready to answer, though, for the first time, she thought she might want to, soon.
Her skin flushed, and she averted her eyes slightly, Viktor was so transparent about everything, all of her questions got straight answers, and even if he was a little cheeky at times, she found she liked it more often than not. When Hermione risked glancing back up, she discovered that Viktor had made quick work of the doughnut she had cut up and all that remained of the sweet treat was a line of powdered sugar, coating his skin, over the top of his lip.
Hermione asked herself what Ginny would have done in the same situation and immediately cursed herself when the answer came. Her heart pounding she balled up all of her courage and stretched over the overburdened table while Viktor began talking about the library he had at home. As her small hand connected with his surprisingly soft skin, Viktor's voice disappeared. Before Hermione could lose her nerve, she gently brushed the pad of her thumb across the sugar trace, sweeping half over the smooth flesh of his upper lip, not daring to look higher than the bottom of his nose.
"Err sugar," she said, as she pulled back, clumsily holding up her thumb as if to give contributory evidence to a shaky story.
"Thank you," Viktor murmured quietly reaching up to touch his lip himself.
Viktor watched the spreading pink blush that bloomed across Hermione's cheeks with a lot more joy than any of the pinks in the room had caused, he would never have expected her to be as bold as to reach across like that. Secretly he would have loved her to be even bolder but he didn't want to rush her, she had given enough away for him to be sure she hadn't had much male attention yet if any. There was apparently no accounting for the taste of British men. He was happy for their relationship to move at any pace Hermione was comfortable with, as long as it was still moving, and as long as he still got to spend time with her.
When she put her cup down Viktor saw an opening to get them out of there and stood from the uncomfortable seat, quickly moving to hold out her coat behind her while she got up. Viktor thoroughly approved of her outfit. In her jumper and coat, Hermione looked so soft, and he had to concentrate extremely hard to ensure he let the jacket go once she was back in it. Though best intentions aside, he couldn't resist gently sliding his hand under her bouncy curls, his thumb just grazing the nape of her neck as he untucked her hair from inside her collar. He stepped away as he felt her still under his fingers, and sped towards the door in need of cooler air.
Once they were back outside, Hermione directed him to Tomes and Scrolls with a slightly apologetic expression that Viktor ignored as he followed her into the murky store. No proprietor appeared to shepherd them, not that it seemed to matter, Hermione evidently knew her way around the bookshop, and he trailed behind her as she headed to the Transfiguration aisle before running her fingers along the spines, pulling out a red-clad book he recognised.
"You do not want that one," Viktor said decisively. He scanned the higher shelves quickly, the ones she couldn't reach, so must not have seen, and picked up the alternative he was looking for, holding it out to her. "This one much better," he said, happy to have been able to help.
He watched confused as Hermione frowned. "I don't think so, Professor McGonagall said that this was the book I needed for an advanced project," she protested sharply, not taking the book he was proffering.
Viktor dropped his hand back down to his side. "That book is outdated, theories in this one superior."
Hermione crossed her arms, pressing her own chosen volume to her chest as her eyes flashed in warning. "I severely doubt it, and regardless I've read that one," she nodded her head in the direction of the book he was still clutching. "The theories are convoluted and half-baked," she said dismissively.
"You mean you could not follow them?" Viktor pushed, mirroring her folded arm stance.
He bit back a smile as Hermione, no doubt unconsciously, attempted to stand taller, squaring her shoulders and lifting up her chin as her eyes narrowed. Where had his shy girl gone? Viktor leant against the shelf to his side and tried to keep his face impassive as Hermione raged at him, seemingly forgetting about all of her nerves as she speculated loudly over what spending many months in frozen wastelands did to the brain cells of adolescents. It took a long time before Hermione noticed his smiling eyes and she deflated immediately.
"You're laughing at me," she said in a small voice, and Viktor pulled himself away from the shelves to lean down, meeting her eyes.
"No, debating with you, enjoy as much as agreeing with you," he admitted with a wink.
Hermione muttered something under her breath as she walked past him, waving her preferred book challengingly as she headed to the counter. Viktor conceded that it was probably a bad idea to offer to pay and instead moved to stand close behind her as she made her purchase, grinning to himself as he heard her breath hitch when his shadow fell over her. He liked that he could fluster her.
When they got back outside the afternoon light was beginning to fade, and reluctantly Viktor realised he was going to have to walk Hermione back to the castle. One thing was for sure, he would have to find time to get to the library that week, their outing hadn't been nearly long enough, though he supposed she had needed to get her dress, that couldn't have been helped. Though he had no desire to stop his gentle teasing, Viktor was secretly pleased Hermione was keeping it a surprise, his imagination had attempted a few ideas over the last couple of days. It was probably for the best, for the maintenance of his academic record, that he didn't entirely know.
When he suggested taking the path home, Hermione agreed, and Viktor swiftly grabbed the book bag out of her hand rather than offering first, anticipating her refusal. Hermione huffed at his presumption but gave up quickly when he ignored her protests. Viktor believed that she was a girl not used to people doing things for her and while independence was admirable, and not to mention attractive, he had been raised to be a gentleman.
They walked closer together than they had on the way out, and the backs of their hands brushed together once, twice, before Viktor slyly moved the bag he was holding to his other side, freeing the hand closest to Hermione which he used to wrap around hers.
Her hand was small, warm and soft, just like her. Standing so close she only came up to his shoulder, and even then that was mainly because of her hair. Hermione didn't say anything when he enveloped her hand, but a couple of moments later she intertwined her cold fingers with his larger ones. It had been far too long since he had held her hand. As their fingers meshed Viktor subtly slowed their pace, not enough, he hoped, to be noticeable, but sufficient to prolong their date a little longer.
"What are your plans after school finishes?" her soft voice asked at the side of him, shaking him from his thoughts.
"Quidditch, full time," he answered immediately, his plans had been fixed for some years.
"Where?" she asked, and Viktor almost got lost in thought again. How strange it was to get lost thinking about someone when you were with them.
Typically, his life and plans were his least favourite topic, excessive questions about himself made Viktor uncomfortable, but never with her, Hermione's intent was always earnest. When girls had asked him about his job before, they were really asking about his prospects, if they asked about his home they were accessing his wealth. Hermione wanted to know his stories, all of the inconsequential threads that made up his life; do you have a pet? What's your favourite season? Where was the most interesting place you have travelled to? She wanted to know more about him; Hermione made him feel like he was more than the sum of a few desirable traits, like a whole person, like a man.
"Have offers but my mother wants me to stay in central Europe," he said as a chill moved through the air, and he stepped closer to Hermione, hoping to shield her from the worst of it. To say that his mother wanted to keep him close was an understatement, when a letter had arrived from the American Quidditch Association she'd nearly had a fit at even the suggestion that he would move that far away. That was one of the difficulties of being an only child, and it was another pressure that Hermione understood.
"What about you?" he asked interested, she hadn't mentioned her career aspirations before.
Hermione bit her lip, looking like she was revealing a secret, "The Ministry."
"Really? You too nice for politics," he teased.
"You don't know me well enough to know that," she asserted primly.
"Might be coming to," Viktor replied, grinning at her brashly.
Hermione glared at him before she seemed to falter and her face moved back to a blank countenance, how long would it be before she felt truly comfortable with him? Viktor enjoyed the flash of defiance she let break through every now and again and he wanted to see more of it; the witch was no pushover.
"Also completing Transfiguration Mastery. My father wants further education, cannot be professional Quidditch player forever," he said with a roll of his eyes, paraphrasing from a very long, very often repeated speech.
Hermione nodded absently while looking up at the darkening sky. "You'll be good at that," she murmured, and when Viktor raised his eyebrows, she paled almost as if she had just realised what she said. "Oh, I may have read over some of your notes while we were studying, your papers on the subject were... err… very insightful."
Viktor sheepishly beamed at her and tried not to show how amused he was at her snooping. Or that he had already known. In fact, he had caught her shuffling through his papers a few times when he was returning from various stacks in the library. He had never wanted to discourage her, so he had managed to draw attention to his return by coughing or stepping louder. In the early days, it had given him hope that Hermione was interested. To have that confirmed as well as her implying she perceived him as intelligent was hugely gratifying.
"So, you'll be travelling all over Europe next year?" she asked, and Viktor ran a thumb carefully over the back of her cold hand. He really should have offered her the gloves he had in his pocket - it was what a gentleman would do - but he couldn't bring himself to lose contact with her skin.
Hermione's tone was hard to read, her voice was muffled under the collar of her thick jumper, but he thought she sounded a little resigned. Viktor was planning on waiting until later in the year to talk about intentions he had, intentions that had already been listed and sent home for his mother's approval, at least the ones appropriate at this stage. But he could suggest things, couldn't he?
"Yes, will be travelling all over Europe," Viktor confirmed
"Oh," Hermione said so quietly he almost didn't hear her.
"When we meet in library this week should we move to section near maps?" he asked lightly, and Hermione looked up, her eyebrows pulled together in a bewildered frown that made her look adorable, and Viktor had the sudden desire to run his hand across her forehead, smoothing the line that had appeared.
"Why would we need the Geography section?" she asked perplexed.
"Oh, you do not need?" he baited lightly.
"Viktor, I, what?"
"You seem to have forgotten Scotland is in Europe."
A small smile pulled at Hermione's lips before it fell away again she stared straight ahead. "There aren't any Quidditch teams in Scotland though," she said in a small voice.
"Oh?" Viktor inquired, knowing her well enough by then to fully appreciate just how little she knew about the sport.
"I may have, I may have checked," she admitted, obviously embarrassed, heat rose up her neck as she bit down on her lip.
Viktor stopped her when he could sense her growing discomfort, he pulled on her hand as they came to a halt just before the Hogwarts gates. He shot a surreptitious glance around them to check they weren't overlooked before he pulled her against him, folding his arms around her shoulders. He heard her squeak slightly before, after a couple of moments pause, she hesitantly moved her arms from down by her sides to coil around his waist inside his coat, her hands fisting into the back of his thick knit jumper. Viktor couldn't recall a time he had ever felt such warmth before, such a sense of belonging as he did then, standing as he was, in the middle of a freezing path, in early December, with a girl that probably weighed about the same as the coat he was wearing, wrapped around his centre.
"No, no Quidditch teams here Hermione… But other things, important things."
By the time Viktor had dropped Hermione off at the main door of the castle the dinner sitting had been and gone and all seemed quiet. As he turned to say a final goodbye, Hermione looked contemplative before she unexpectedly rushed forward and pulled her arms around his neck, engulfing him in another hug, this one being the first she had initiated.
"Thank you for a lovely afternoon," she sighed into his ear, her wild curls tickling against his chilled cheek. "Next time I get to pick the place," she teased, and he shifted his head to lay a quick kiss on her cheek.
"Next time," he confirmed, wrapping his arms around her slim waist and squeezing slightly, fighting the urge to pick her up and carry her off with him. When she let go he had to drag himself back to the ship, Viktor was sure the vessel perched on the Black Lake had ever looked so cold and unwelcoming as it did now.
When he made it back to his dorm, shaking off the residual snow that had coated his brow, Mikhail pointed out an envelope lying on his bed. "It came while you were gone."
Recognising the distinctly considered script, Viktor pulled the parchment open as he took off his boots. The letter was, as expected, from his mother, who was even more enthused to hear about Hermione than he had expected. While he had been home for the summer she had mentioned, as she would call it (he would say nagged) that he had yet to bring home a girl he was serious about. Viktor reminded her that he had never brought any girl home, serious or not which had made her far from happy.
Viktor scanned the letter to pick up all of the usual news and sighed at the number of mentions Hermione gained through the short missive. His mother intimated some reservations about Hermione's age, though she did not echo the headmaster's warning about being a gentleman, she knew the boy she had raised. There was no word in the whole letter relating to Hermione's descent, other than a short line asking if she had she any understanding of pureblood ways? Viktor had a feeling he knew exactly the ways his mother was referring to, Muggle-born or not, Hermione was fifteen, such conversations were a way off, for now at least.
Viktor was stunned when his mother later suggested that he make an introduction while his parents were in Scotland for the final task. He had anticipated they would wait for him to propose a meeting. He had given clear indications of his regard for Hermione and a possible visit when the school year ended, but he hadn't said more than that, maybe he had betrayed more of his feelings than he intended? As he scanned the letter he came to a section about Karkaroff; watch him Viktor, he made several mistakes as a young man, mistakes that had a significant bearing on the man he became. He frowned.
"What's wrong," Mikhail asked.
"Nothing it's from my mother," Viktor replied, tucking the letter into his secure box, he would tell his friends about it later; he didn't want talk of the headmaster to ruin his good mood.
"So how did it go?" Filip demanded, leaning on the edge of his bed. Viktor was amazed he had gone so long without asking, he assumed it must have been killing Filip to keep quiet while he read his letter.
Viktor dropped back onto his bed, letting his head hit the pillow. "Perfect; she is just, perfect."
Mikhail made a loud gagging sound and Filip hit him with his pillow.
Hermione spent the next few days floating around on air. Pure, blissful air. She had enjoyed a relaxing Sunday morning, languishing in her dorm clad in pyjamas, updating Luna and Ginny on how her date went. Hermione was amused to no end that she, the non-sporting one, had been the one to teach them the expression post-match analysis.
She had again delighted when it became apparent that she had managed to make Ginny impressed with her when she explained how she had wiped the powdered sugar off Viktor's mouth and initiated the second embrace at the end the night, the lithe redhead had leapt forward so quickly she almost knocked Luna off the bed, placing her hands on either side of Hermione's face. "My little baby is all grown up and liking a boy," she sang, and the girls collapsed in fits of giggles.
The violent action disturbed the Fireball that had been resting on Hermione's tummy. Luna had brought him along with her when she appeared again that morning 'for a visit'. The tiny creature aggressively snorted at Ginny before stomping his way up Hermione's body and tangling himself in her hair. He seemed to view her unruly curls as some kind of dragon bedding and promptly fell asleep snoring gently in her ear, something Hermione found strangely pleasant.
Everything was going fine, brilliant even; that should have been her first clue that a significant irritant was on its way.
At lunch, Hermione was furiously re-editing her Arithmancy equations parchment, barely taking any notice of the comings and goings around her. Professor Vector had looked over her recent work that morning and suggested a different method for tabulated time differentials that Hermione had found incredibly exciting, and she was attempting to weave in the changes while it was still fresh in her mind. As she got lost halfway down the page, Harry and Ron dropped into the seats in front of her, and she mumbled her 'hellos' while counting on her fingers and wishing she had remembered to bring a bloody calculator to school. Hermione had reasoned that something battery and solar powered shouldn't be affected by magic. Maybe she could get her dad to send one? It would make life so much easier.
The boys were muttering unhappily, but Hermione wasn't paying attention, well, not until Ron turned to her. "Say, Hermione, you're a girl," he began.
She huffed at the interruption and resolutely remained looking at her parchment as she replied in a crisp tone, "Excellent observation Ronald," before crossing through a few numbers and looking back at her notes.
"You can come with one of us then," he announced resolved.
"Come with you to what?" she moaned indignantly continuing to ruffle through her stack of parchments. There had definitely been something she needed to remember about excessive use of the number three. What had it been again? Was it that you could only use it before the second time change or…
"The ball, Hermione," Ron said, stretching out the words as if she were particularly slow and her head finally snapped up as she was wrenched away from her work.
"I can't," Hermione replied quickly, feeling slightly panicked. She didn't want to tell them about Viktor, she had been unsure of Luna's reaction but she was damn near certain of Ron's, and she had no desire to make a spectacle of herself in the Great Hall.
"Of course you can, come on, you can go with one of us, or we could all go together," Ron insisted and then turned to Harry as if the conversation was over.
"I said I couldn't Ron," Hermione said again, setting her jaw, "I'm… I'm already going with someone."
Ron looked back at her as Harry glanced between them. "No your not," he said incredulous, "you said no to Neville, so who else asked?"
Hermione filed away wondering how he had got that bit of information and thought back to when she had questioned whether or not she liked Ron earlier in the year, deep down she knew she had been holding onto those feelings until pretty recently. That had been before this term. Things with Viktor were new, slightly fragile and uncertain, but he treated her in a way she realised she deserved to be treated. Even if he wasn't her happy ever after he had taught her about respect, about the way she should be treated, a lesson she should have already known.
"I'm going with someone, that's all you need to know," Hermione asserted firmly, and Ron scoffed.
It was then that Hermione realised how many people were listening in, and not just on the Gryffindor table. She felt embarrassment begin to heat her face as she tried her best to look unaffected. This was the reaction she had been expecting when she told the girls; she saw that the faces turned in their direction were as disbelieving as Ron's.
"You don't have to believe me," Hermione professed, but her voice was weaker than she would have liked.
Harry, apparently sensing the atmosphere shift, intervened. "Look if Hermione says she's going with someone, she is alright," he said firmly with a pointed look around them that had the desired effect, everyone went back to focus on their plates again.
Ron opened his mouth, no doubt to continue but Ginny had drawn her wand.
"One. More. Word," she warned before sidling up closer to Hermione on the bench and whispering in her ear. "I can't wait to see his face."
After what she was now referring to as the 'incident' at lunch, Hermione had gone to hide in the library after dinner, not wanting to face the common room. Ron's words had made her speculate about Viktor's desire for privacy, they had never had a conversation as to whether their meeting up was a secret, and she had certainly not made it an open concern of the school, but what if he was embarrassed by her?
Hermione tried pushed the negative thoughts away; she knew Viktor better than that, he had told his friends about her, taken her on a date, and asked her to the most significant event there was ever likely to be while she was at Hogwarts. She needed to stop this; a lovely thing was happening, and she wanted to enjoy it.
Hermione settled herself at their table; reasoning that she might as well do some work while she was hiding but was stopped as chairs were pulled out either side of her in tandem. At the sight of the Weasley twins, Hermione put down her quill and sat back in her chair, prepared for whatever hijinks were about to occur.
"Evening Granger," Fred began, spinning the back of the chair in his grasp and turning it so he could lounge on it backwards.
"We do hope you are well," George chimed in from the other side, leaning back and kicking his long legs out ahead of himself.
"We tried to find you in the common room-"
"-But you were hiding."
"Studying," Hermione protested snappishly.
"Hiding," they countered at the same time.
"So, we thought we would come to you," Fred continued, looking over her notes and picking up her quill to insert a comma, correctly, damn him.
George sighed, "Once again we find ourselves apologising for our little brother."
"If it weren't for the red hair and freckles we would suspect he had been picked up from the lost and found box."
"He has none of the Weasley charm - that I'm sure you would agree - is prevalent in the rest of us in abundance," George said with a comically fast waggle of his eyebrows. Hermione felt her lips quirk despite her best efforts to remain on her guard.
"Anyway, don't let him get to you right?" Fred insisted.
"Right," she agreed softly.
"So, customary opening apology out of the way-" George continued with a wave of the hand.
"-Who are you going with?" Fred pressed.
"You can tell us," George asserted.
"You believe me?" Hermione blurted and then felt a bit silly.
"Of course," Fred insisted.
"Making it up isn't your style-"
"-And you're a crap liar," George interjected, and Fred nodded in agreement, Hermione couldn't help the narrowing of her eyes.
"Either way-"
"-You're telling the truth."
"So who is it?" Fred pressed again.
"I'd really rather not say," Hermione pleaded, not sure how long she would hold up against their questioning, the fact that there was two of them, and they were so in tune with each other, always made her feel as if she were on the brink of tripping up.
It was at the exact moment that Fred began to make an elaborate speech - that had an air of evident prep work - that Viktor rounded the corner and took in the scene in front of him, tilting his head slightly. "Hermione, I come back?" he offered pointing towards the exit.
"No, no Viktor it's fine," Hermione replied doing her damndest not to blush, "the twins were just leaving, weren't you?" she asked with a forceful look in both of their directions.
Their shocked faces were an absolute picture, and both remained stock still for several moments staring up at Viktor wide-eyed. George shook it off first, looking from Viktor to Hermione several times before he looked at his twin.
"No way," he whispered in total wonderment.
"Yes, way," Hermione confirmed self-consciously.
"This is absolutely," Fred began, still looking a little shell-shocked.
But George was already getting to his feet, "Utterly priceless," he mumbled excitedly.
George standing seemed to revive his twin, and Fred looked at her with a genuinely devious smirk on his face. "Granger, you are an absolute diamond," he said, delighted.
"I wonder if we can get dad's wizarding camera in time?" George asked rubbing his hands together in apparent glee.
Hermione shook her head as they walked off, and Viktor walked over to sit down next to her.
"What did I miss?"
"Nothing much, their Ron's brother's, my friend, you remember?" at Viktor's nod, she continued. "Ron asked about the ball today, I said I was going with someone, a few people didn't believe me. The twins, Fred and George," she explained, gesturing in the direction they had just departed in, "they were just trying to work out who it was and well, you turning the corner like that, I think they know now."
Hermione searched his face for some sign of discomfort, but there was nothing in his eyes to indicate alarm. "Everyone will know when you walk in with me," Viktor shrugged, and began pulling out his books without a care in the world.
Hermione's heart swelled at his relaxed assertion, and she gave herself a couple of moments to recover before she pulled out her notes from earlier. "Viktor, could I get your opinion on this?"
They spent the next half an hour with their heads almost pressed together, quietly debating the correct way to solve the equation.