A/N: thank you to everyone reading, reviewing and adding to lists, the lovely feedback is incredibly motivating. Part One was only supposed to be ten chapters, but as we are just getting Christmas at Chapter 7, it is fairly clear that it will be a bit longer than that. The Yule Ball will be covered in be the next Chapter.

Viktor, Filip and Mikhail were sat in a sort of circle, in various states of concentration, the golden egg from the first task of the TriWizard tournament resting on the ground between them. No one had spoken for over five minutes; they had exhausted so many possible lines of inquiry that they could no longer be bothered to articulate anything unless they were sure they were onto something. Viktor allowed his head to drop onto the hand resting against his kneecap and yawned animatedly. "How can this be so difficult?" he moaned.

"It's not," Mikhail answered quickly, as he leant forward and swept up the egg before transferring it from hand to hand, hoping the movement would shake up his stale thoughts. "We're just not thinking about it the right way."

He stilled the egg in his grasp and pinched the clasp at the top. As the golden metal cracked open the deafening noise made them all jump, it didn't matter how many times they listened to it, the screeching that burst from the egg made Viktor start. The grating sound was a hideous reminder that they didn't yet have a solution.

"There must be something in that noise I'm supposed to understand," Viktor said once the egg had closed again.

"Translation charm?" Filip suggested, tiredly rubbing a hand over his face.

"Tried it," Mikhail and Viktor answered at the same time.

"But why would it need to be so loud?" Mikhail pondered putting the egg back down on the floor.

Something sparked in Viktor's mind, Mikhail was onto something it was all out thinking in the right way, or rather, asking the right questions. He sat up straighter, picking up the egg, "There must be a reason," he muttered, more to himself than the others.

"What about something that inhibits the sound?" Filip proposed, trying his best to be helpful.

"Putting something over it? Or putting it in something?" Mikhail offered.

"I tried burying it under clothes, but the noise just came through," Viktor replied, still looking at the egg contemplatively.

Filip reached for one of the discarded books that littered their dorm, "Something denser? Sand or…."

"Water," Viktor exclaimed, leaping up and running into the bathroom, his friends hot on his heels. He filled the large bath immediately, running both taps. When the tub was half filled, he dipped the egg under the surface and then hesitantly opened the clasp to hear… nothing.

"Well, it certainly kerbs the sound," Filip commented dryly, none of them was willing to get excited quite yet. This process had already taken them weeks, and they'd had a few 'breakthroughs' that eventually turned out to be nothing.

"I think you're going to have to stick your head under" Mikhail advised.

Viktor nodded before ripping off his shirt and submerging his head and shoulders under the surface of the water. After dragging his head out and shouting his delight to his friends he got back to the task at hand. As soon as his ears broke the surface, he could hear clear words, sung to him like music playing to a haunting melody. It took five attempts at immersing himself and shouting out what he heard until they had a full clue.

Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching ponder this;
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour, the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.

"Underwater… for an hour?" Filip said, confirming what they were all thinking. Viktor swiped a towel as he sat down on his bed, drying his hair. They had figured out the secret of the egg, but now he had a new problem.

"Bubblehead charm?" Filip tried again.

"Bit uninventive," Mikhail countered, and Viktor sighed, it would have been the easiest thing to do, but he knew Mihail was right, easy wasn't going to cut it, he would have to do more to win. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that he wanted to do more to impress Hermione more than he cared about the judges and Viktor fought to keep the guilty look off his face.

"I will have to think on it," he said, pulling on a jumper and settling back on the bed, he would start drawing up a plan for his options tomorrow; his brain was wiped after looking at the egg for so long.

Mikhail, who was still reviewing the parchment with the clue looked over to him. "What do you think the bit about 'taking what you'll sorely miss' means?"

Viktor shrugged. "An object, maybe my broom? Who knows."

The Yule Ball was fast approaching, and it seemed to be the topic of conversation on everyone's lips inside the walls of the castle. Viktor was finding he couldn't go anywhere on the grounds without seeing some terrified looking boy approaching a potential date, or overhearing the endless conversation on possible attire. Typically, Viktor would have been irritated by all of the mindless chatter, but on this occasion, he couldn't hold back own is excitement. He had figured out the egg and was way on top of his homework, so he allowed his mind to wander to the upcoming event. He had asked Hermione for her dress colour a few nights before; she had eyed him sceptically, but he had been firm in the face her evident of suspicion and said it was for the flowers he was getting. She had shyly grinned at him, and with some reluctance divulged that her dress was blue, but gave no more detail than that, she wouldn't even go as far as to name the hue, in any case, his dreams got slightly more specific after that.

Two weeks before the ball all of the Durmstrang boys were called into the large hall onboard ship after dinner for a 'talk' with the headmaster. As they had done countless times before the students stood in their designated spaces not having to wait long before Karkaroff filed through them to stand at the front. The headmaster drew himself up, taking off his fur hat and coat and placing his hands inside his trouser pockets, if you didn't know him well you may have said his demeanour appeared relaxed, none of the boys in front of him would have shared in that delusion.

As Karkaroff paced in front of them, the well-trodden boards creaked under his feet. "Am I correct in assuming that as I made it an edict, you have all selected appropriate dates for the ball?"

"Yes, sir," came the resounding reply.

"Good," he came to a stop and eyed them all intensely, "you are all of age now, men in our world, most of you will be looking at marriage agreements in the next couple of years."

Mikhail scoffed, so low he probably would have been undetected, were it not for how quiet the room was. Karkaroff snapped his eyes to him, but there was a curve to his lip that indicated his amusement. "Yes, even you Mikhail, I have no doubt your Father will impress upon you the benefits of a life outside of purely academic pursuits." Filip just about suppressed his laughter and Viktor fought his urge to roll his eyes at the situation.

The headmaster resumed his pacing, "I will remind you that we are visiting this school, and we have a reputation to uphold, you will be on your best behaviour. If I catch any of you so much as thinking of misbehaving, the letter I will send home to your parents will be the least of your worries. If you disgrace this school, or me, I will take steps to ensure that the organ that will no doubt have taken the place of your brain, will be rendered incapacitated. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir," came the fierce, slightly terrified response.

The headmaster exited the room, bidding them a curt 'good evening' and the assembled boys had a swift, reassuring feel inside their trouser pockets before following in his wake.

Viktor jogged over the snow-dusted grounds, speeding up to get some much-needed warmth into his legs, he had charmed his shoes to make the bases stickier after a near miss the day before. The castle looked pleasant early in the morning before its inhabitants had woken up. It was strange being here, in Scotland, for Christmas. Usually, he would spend the Holidays at home. It was a hard thing for his mother; she was already struggling with the idea he would be gone for long periods next year, without having him absent from the holidays too.

He still had to tell her about the house he was planning on buying; Viktor had resolved he would need his own place once he had selected a team, something that would be more convenient for the training ground. He still had to make a decision on his future; he didn't have long left now, but Viktor wanted to ensure he had taken all of the factors into consideration. He was unsure if the curly-haired witch, likely still asleep in her tower, would have an impact on his choice. He had no guarantees that their relationship, such as it was, would continue past this year, or even post the ball, this could be just a holiday romance, something Hermione would forget about as soon as his ship faded from her view. Viktor's feelings were becoming much more certain; he somehow doubted she would disappear from his mind so quickly, though it was the imprints he was beginning to feel in his heart that he was more concerned with.

Viktor ran past the lake as he chewed everything over, there was something between her and the red-haired boy, maybe not a strong affection, but her relationship with him was different to the one she had with Potter. He just wasn't sure yet if it was something to be uneasy about.

The Durmstrang boys braved the elements again to leave the ship that evening for dinner, Viktor sat down, in what was becoming his usual place across from Adrian Pucey. The boys had exchanged a few words of conversation over the last two months, Pucey was also hoping to play Quidditch full time after school as well as pursuing a mastery, so they had some common ground.

As Viktor began loading up his plate his attention was caught by a boy at the other end of the table; he recognised the voice as belonging to Draco Malfoy, a student in Hermione's year that had introduced himself to Viktor more than once. He didn't pay much attention until he felt Filip tense next to him and Viktor stopped moving to hear better.

"You should have seen it, idiots the lot of them looked. Well, I fired at Potter and what do you know? He moved, and it smacked Granger straight in the face." Viktor's hands dropped to the table as the small crowd around the blond boy laughed riotously. "Couldn't have turned out better if I planned it," Malfoy continued smugly.

Viktor looked over at the Gryffindor side of the hall, but Hermione wasn't there, Potter and Weasley were, and he angrily registered that they did not appear to have a scratch on them. Mind made up he stood, untangling his legs from the bench.

"Viktor," Mikhail hissed before dropping his voice and speaking in their own tongue, "you can't go defending the honour of a girl in the middle of the dining hall, remember what Karkaroff said about us looking like thugs."

Viktor dropped his hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm going to the Hospital Wing, I will take my issues up in private, once I have spoken to her."

Mikhail nodded, and Viktor exited the hall.

Hermione was sitting on the edge of a cot in the Hospital Wing, feeling pretty pleased with herself despite the day she had endured. She had never been so embarrassed as when Professor Snape sneered down at her; her eyes had clouded with tears as he pronounced 'he saw no difference in her appearance'. She had allowed the boys to bring her to Madam Pomfrey, but after that had asked them to leave, she didn't want anyone to look at her.

Hermione didn't have had many vanities, she defiantly ignored her hair and could forgo the glamour charms and make up her peers delighted in, but she had always been sensitive about her teeth. When she was little, she'd had an overbite that had been painfully corrected under her parent's professional care, but they had not been able to do anything about her overly large front teeth.

Thankfully, the charm to reduce the size they had grown to after Malfoy's hex had been relatively straightforward, and as the nurse had held up the mirror, Hermione had only waited a little longer to halt the reduction. It had left her with perfect teeth, something she felt rather happy about, if she pushed back thoughts on how she was going to explain it to her father. Her mother would no doubt understand her actions eventually, but her dad would be disappointed she had felt the need to change anything about herself. They had discussed her teeth and her unhappiness with them many, many times.

Hermione was only as still there as the speed of the hex's transformation of her teeth had given her little time to react, and they had cut open her bottom lip, Madam Pomfrey had sealed it and applied a paste but insisted she remain there for a couple of hours to allow it to seep in, and for her to rest after having healing magic used on herself.

As Hermione reached for one of her books the Hospital Wing doors swung open, and Viktor swept in. At first, she was concerned he had hurt himself until she saw his eyes scanning the room, when he locked eyes with her he walked forward quickly placing a hand on the top of her arm and dropping himself forward examining her for any signs of distress or damage.

"Heard you were here, you okay? What happened?" he asked quickly, his voice anxious.

"I'm fine Hermione asserted, smiling with her mouth resolutely closed, her cheeks were a little flushed as she realised she would have to explain.

"Seem good, but heard you were hexed," Viktor pressed.

"I…" Hermione started weakly but it was already too late, she saw Viktor's eyes narrowed on her mouth.

"Your teeth?"

Her eyes fell on her lap. "I was hit with a hex while I was outside my potions classroom, it made them grow until they were enormous I looked like a… like a beaver," she admitted quietly, pushing her hands together. Viktor snorted, and Hermione looked up indignantly, but before she could mouth off, he gripped her chin lightly.

"You are too beautiful to look like beaver," he murmured, and Hermione felt her cheeks heat again for an entirely different reason.

The proximity of their faces was warping her mind, and she sighed not seeing how she could avoid telling the truth. "I may have let Madam Pomfrey shrink them back until they were smaller than before. Hermione looked at him, expecting some reaction to her expression of vanity but Viktor's face was impassive.

"Nothing wrong before," he said firmly, before dropping onto the cot to sit next to her, "but you are happy now yes?"

"Yes," she replied in a small voice, and Viktor nodded.

"How did you get hurt?" he asked, and Hermione was grateful for the opportunity to move on.

"It was an accident," she began, and her eyes widened as Viktor's hands gripped the mattress on either side of his legs hard, his knuckles turning white under strain. Perplexed she laid a hand over his tense fingers in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. "It was, I just got hit in the crossfire," she explained.

"If they had not been cursing it would not have happened," Viktor said tightly and turned to look at her. His eyes were angry, and she found herself glad it wasn't directed at her. "It could have been so much worse," he finished, the words sounding like he had ground them out.

Hesitating only briefly Hermione laid her head on his shoulder, and she felt Viktor tense under her cheek for a second before he sagged, casually moving his hand from under hers to wrap it around her waist, pulling her closer into his side.

"I have to tell you something," she began falteringly. Honestly, she didn't want to have this conversation, to interrupt this moment, but she wasn't sure when she might get a chance again, and she certainly didn't want to ruin the Yule Ball by bringing it up then.

"Da?" Viktor he answered absently.

Hermione sucked in a large gulp of air and closed her eyes. "I think… well, I know, that your headmaster was a Death Eater, during the last war."

She felt Viktor shift his arm from around her waist and her heart sank, she hesitantly opened her eyes as he turned himself towards her and he laid a hand on each of her shoulders, his nose almost touching hers. "I know" he replied.

"You do?" she stuttered, incredulous that Viktor should already be aware, she had planned argument after argument to help convince him, and he already knew?

"It not secret in my country, he may not be good man, but he is good headmaster."

Hermione felt like she had been hit in the stomach, how could he think this was okay? How could anyone? "He followed Voldemort, he hates people like me, how could you…"

Viktor interrupted softly. "Many people where I am from believed in Grindelwald, this why people think Durmstrang Dark, some parts are... but not all of us. Karkaroff made mistakes, mistakes when he was not much older than me," Hermione made to cut in, but he shushed her, kindly, "Can people not change?"

"He hates Muggle-borns," she argued.

"He does not hate Muggle-borns; he fears them, he does not know better," Viktor's tone was soothing, but his placating was only making Hermione more irritated.

"That's not an excuse," she snapped, disapproval heating her tone.

"Not making excuses," Viktor responded, and Hermione crossed her arms in front of herself. "Hermione," he crooned, and she looked up to face him, "I do not agree with how he feels, but his crime now is ignorance, not malice," he said sincerely, and she felt her anger wilt slightly.

"Fine," she huffed, "but this won't be the last time we talk about this."

Viktor nodded in agreement though he failed to smother a smile, Hermione was beginning to think she was screwed when it came to that smile.

"Your lip, does it hurt?" he asked as his hands ghosted from the position on her shoulder to the side of her neck.

"No," she whispered, she didn't trust herself to speak further as she felt her accelerated heartbeat in her ears.

One of Viktor's large hands splayed across her cheek, and his thumb moved to graze gently over her bottom lip, still slightly swollen from the day's events. "You will meet people as you grow up… they will tell you, you are not good enough, this will happen a lot… remember that many people will not care."

He placed a firm kiss on her cheek, not on the on the bone, as he had before, but almost on the side of her mouth, lingering for a while, so close that she could feel his hot breath on her lips as he pulled away.

"Glad you not seriously hurt, would have been very disappointed not to dance with you Viktor said soberly though he smiled down at Hermione he drew her still heated bottom lip under her perfect teeth.

"Me too."

Hermione was once again in the library, with the ball fast approaching Ginny had informed her that she would need the whole day to get ready. The redhead subsequently ignored all of Hermione's protests, and with every failed argument Hermione realised there was no getting out of it. Therefore she had some work to do to get ahead. She had just finished the second item on her list, crossing it off with a flourish when the seat next to her was pulled out, and her face broke into an expectant grin.

"I wasn't expecting to see you today, I thought you had training, you… oh, hi Cedric," she finished lamely staring at the grinning Hufflepuff champion.

"Not who you were expecting?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"No, well...I," Hermione faltered, and Cedric boomed out a laugh.

"No need for the concern, I know your dirty little secret. By the way, you're a dark horse Granger, who knew that under that untouchable reserve there was a girl with a hidden appreciation for Quidditch, well, the players at least?" he smirked at her.

"How did you…" she asked mystified.

"Krum and I spoke after that thing in the paper, nasty business, all complete crap, me and him we're quite close," he said proudly. "Well, not as close as you and he are," he qualified with a wink. "I thought something was going on between you two when I saw you in the tent and Krum, well, he didn't hide his feelings for you."

Hermione felt pleased, and it clearly showed on her face as Cedric rolled his eyes dramatically. "If you swoon, I will not help you up off the floor, this is already the weirdest conversation ever, and I haven't even got to the point yet."

Hermione sat up straighter, embarrassed to have been caught mooning, "Don't let me keep you Diggory, what is it you need?"

"It's not what I need at all; it's something Harry needs, it's about," he dropped his voice to a dramatic whisper that was as loud as his normal speaking voice, "the egg."

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes, bloody drama school dropout, "What about it?" she asked impatiently.

Cedric's brow creased, apparently unhappy with her lack of awe at his proclamation. "I haven't been able to find Potter so tell him from me to take a bath with it."

Hermione stared at him unblinking for a second until Cedric waved his hand in front of her face. "Hellooo," he called, "have I broken you, Granger, that is incredibly inconvenient."

She snapped out of it, batting his hand away from her face. "What do you mean, take a bath with it?" she asked astonished.

"Exactly what I said, it's not difficult Granger, I'll write it down if you need me too?" Cedric needled, and she slumped back in her seat.

"No, it's fine, mad, but I'll tell him," she was fast learning that the TriWizard tournament was an entirely bonkers event, questioning its practices seemed pointless.

"Good, good," Cedric replied, slapping his hands against his thighs drawing a glare from a table of Ravenclaws studying close by before he stood. "So, I better go, stuff to do and all that, I suppose the next time I see you we will be about to open the dancing."

Hermione felt dread pool in her stomach, she hadn't thought about the dancing in a while, she had been so focused on Viktor. "Who are you taking?" she asked with no real interest, just hoping to distract herself.

Cedric beamed, "Cho, Cho Chang."

Oh, crap.

It was an age before Hermione could get Harry on his own that evening. Ron was still being a nightmare about the ball, and Hermione was avoiding him, with the assistance of the twins, who were running interference. Seemingly the boys were all too happy to do whatever she wanted, for some reason they felt that Hermione going to the ball with Viktor Krum was going to top any Christmas present they got that year.

Once it was just the two of them, Hermione relayed what Cedric had said about the egg verbatim much to Harry's apparent confusion. He asked her more questions, and all she could do was shrug, she had no more clue what Diggory was on about than Harry did.

"Harry," she began, steeling herself a little.

"Yeah?" he replied absently, now looking at the egg perplexed.

"That's not all Cedric said," she continued pulling at the loose hem on the bottom of her jumper.

"Did he have more clues?" Harry asked eagerly, and Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, she knew he hadn't been doing as much as he should have been on the egg.

"Not exactly," she hedged.

"I don't follow," Harry said his brows knitting in confusion as he pushed the golden object back to in his back.

"While we were talking he… he may have mentioned he was going to the ball… with Cho Chang."

"Ah," Harry murmured, "that's, that's great, I'm… I'm sure they'll have a great time," he stuttered out avoiding Hermione's eyes.

"I'm sorry Harry," she said gently, looping a hand through his arm.

"It's fine," he coughed out, and Hermione winced, "I hadn't worked up the courage to ask her so… you know, it's probably for the best."

"You should ask someone else you know?" she chided gently, Harry couldn't exactly go on his own if he was expected to dance in front of the whole school.

"Yeah, I should. I'm just so worried about opening the dancing, can you imagine Mione, all those eyes on you?"

Hermione offered what she hoped was a sympathetic smile. No, she didn't know, but she would, soon.