Viktor shuffled his bare feet as his exposed toes curled against the rough surface of the wooden jetty. The sturdy structure had been erected hastily - so as not to arouse suspicion - the platform hovered over the deceptively still waters of the Black Lake. Using a warm-up routine he had perfected for Quidditch matches, Viktor rotated bursts of jogging on the spot with various arm and shoulder exercises, hopeful that the movement would warm him up as well as distract him from the tension settling into his neck. February in Scotland wasn't an ideal time to be standing around in a vest and shorts, but he was sure potential frostbite would be the least of his worries that day.
Viktor eyed the other champions with a casual air; his three opponents were lined up, staring over the pier, arranged equidistantly from each other. Fleur, who was the furthermost away, looked anxious and uncomfortable, Cedric seemed to be mumbling something under his breath and Potter, who had only just made it in time, looked as if he was attempting to force something down his throat. Was that Gillyweed? That was pretty fucking clever.
Further introspection was cut short as a tannoy sounded and Viktor's attention turned to the strands that had been set up for spectators. Though what they would find to entertain themselves was anyone's guess, Viktor couldn't see how looking at the surface of the lake for an hour could be in any way interesting. The booming voice of Ludo Bagman echoed around the grounds and Viktor spotted ripples form on the lake from the jarring vibration. For the first time that morning, he was impatient to sink into the watery depths. He had never liked Ludo, the overbearing former player represented the very worst type of people in his profession, at least in Viktor's reckoning. Not only did Ludo seem to spend his life recounting tales of his 'glory days', he traded off his 'fame' to get what he wanted from the people around him. Bagman served as a cautionary tale to Viktor and was one of the reasons he had eventually agreed with his father to pursue a mastery after school was finished.
"Well, what a day we have in store for us," Bagman's voice thundered, "our champions are now, as I speak, in position at the edge of the Black Lake. The tension in the air is palpable. It reminds me of the time I was in the starting lineup for the Wasps, when we were defending the league title, batted for my life that day. Anyway, back to our champions, if they have deciphered their clue correctly," he said with a throaty chuckle, "they will already know that they have only one hour to retrieve something dear to them, this item has already been taken-"
Viktor shook out his shoulders and ran over the spell he had practised for the hundredth time in an attempt to block out the unnecessary noise. He was as prepared as he could be, Viktor reminded himself, though he couldn't work out what they had taken. He had anticipated it would be something from his room, he had nothing stored anywhere else, but nothing seemed to be missing that morning. Viktor wouldn't have thought anything of it if they had said they would take something innocuous, but the clue had expressly stated the item would be 'what you'll sorely miss'. Surely if that were the case, it would be something he would have noticed was missing.
"- I can now reveal, for the first time, that deep in the icy waters of the lake, under guard in the merpeople village we have hostages for our champions to collect-"
The excitement in the man's tone made Viktor feel sick to his stomach, and he spun around to face the stands, running his eyes through the students at speed. His impatient gaze immediately went to the clot of red on one side, feeling immeasurable relief when he saw Filip and Mikhail were both there, looking pensive but otherwise unharmed, but if they were there, who on earth?
"- for Viktor Krum… Hermione Granger!"
Viktor's body reacted almost before he had processed the words, he turned on his heel to face the other end of the stands and located Ginny and Luna quickly, he felt his heart began to race as he fully comprehended her absence. No unruly curls dancing in the breeze, no reassuring smile or subtle gesture of support, when even Luna's usually impassive face reflected fear, he turned away. Viktor felt anger claw at him, working its way up from his chest and mauling his throat, and something else, something dark. It prickled at the surface of his awareness, and he made a point to scowl at his headmaster as well as hers before he shut off his thoughts in preparation for the klaxon. He knew he would have to channel the rage he was feeling into finding her quicker.
As he flicked a final look down the row of competitors, Viktor's locked eyes with a terrified-looking Potter; he nodded briefly at him, and there was a lot conveyed at that moment, not least that Viktor understood Potter's concern and that he would make sure Hermione would be safe.
Before the announcement, Viktor had forced himself to move with the intention of keeping himself warm, now he found that as the final moments slipped away he no longer needed to. Peering over at the surface of the water he almost vibrated with energy, the roaring in the crowds and the continuing rumble of the commentary was nothing, everything was focused on the surface of the water.
When the signal was finally given Viktor wasted no time between transfiguring himself and diving in. He had planned to make slow movements so that those on the bank would be able to see what his solution was, but that had been before. He was no longer so worried about what the judges would think of his creativity, his only concern was locating Hermione, and getting her out within the time limit. Viktor broke the surface of the water and quickly focused on achieving a decent descent, fully submerging himself in the icy depths. As he swam down, it wasn't long before he felt like he was drowning. As he propelled forward, he had to fight against the voice in his mind screaming that he needed to return to the surface, that he needed oxygen. Instead, Viktor forced himself to rely on his transfigured gills. It was unnatural, awkward and he had to chase away panic, but a few steady breaths in and out of the new holes in his throat and he relaxed enough to pick up speed once again.
As Viktor swam deeper and deeper, the light filtering from the surface diminished until the water surrounding him was as black as the lake's name suggested. Without his spelled shark eyes he would have barely been able to see a few feet in front of his face. He felt directionless for a while before he began navigating by following a school of dim coloured fish, their scales causing a slight glimmer as they glided through the water. Viktor was so focused on tracking their movement that he didn't notice how he was heading into an area where seaweed climbed taller and spread thicker. He missed the shadows darting above him, creeping below him, until he was too late. A sudden disturbance caught his attention and all at once Grindylows seemed to come from all directions. Their small bodies bounced off him as he attempted to accelerate past, the ones at the front of the attack gnashed their sickly green teeth viciously, as their spindly fingers tried to gain purchase into his flesh. Knowing he was done for if he let that happen, Viktor flailed mercilessly, whipping around and biting at the creatures closest to him before they began to beat a retreat. Not waiting to see how long-term their urge to flee lasted, Viktor swam as fast as he could, out of the dank patch of the lake and began the hunt afresh.
Viktor swam around aimlessly, growing increasingly despondent until he picked up on the faint mumblings of a familiar noise. A gentle, haunting hum that stood out in the almost calm atmosphere. As Viktor swam closer, he registered the sound as the mermaid song, similar to the ballad that had been trapped inside the golden egg. It had never occurred to him before how alluring the noise was as it drew him in, reminding him of stories his mother had told him as a child about sirens. Viktor kicked harder to swim up over a large ridge on the lake floor and then he saw it.
'Village' seemed an inadequate word for the settlement the merpeople had built, it stretched as far as the eye could see; roads and pathways teeming with activity. Variously sized dwellings were flanked with glistening shells that reflected the limited light like mosaic glass. The constant singing reverberated from the spindling towers, magnifying the eerie echo. Viktor was blown away by the civilisation under the water. He thought he might understand Hermione's impassioned rants now, how she lamented the arrogance of magical folk and argued that 'creatures weren't any less intelligent, they just lived in worlds that humans couldn't possibly understand'.
As Viktor recovered from his shock, he approached the village only to have two of the merfolk immediately dive in front of him, blocking his way with vicious looking spears. He tried to control the urge to bite them as he had the Grindylows, the still rational part of his brain muttering that these dangers would be less easily swayed. Viktor was unused to violent reactions, as a general rule, but as he was sure he was approaching the end of the time limit and still had no idea how that would affect Hermione, his anxiety was causing his impatience to skyrocket. The faces of the merfolk were austere and unemotional, their eyes empty black pools set into a shimmering green skin. Moments passed, and Viktor had a distinct feeling he was being judged before, at length, the spears were retracted, and he was urged to go forth.
The manic kicking of his legs stilled when he reached a clearing in the very centre of the village, three gentle trails of bubbles streamed upwards, and Viktor's beady eyes tracked them lower, hoping to find one that belonged to her. There, at the furthest point was Hermione, secured around the waist with a thick rope, her wild hair dispersed in the water around her, her body rigid and lifeless. With her eyelids closed it looked as if she was sleeping, a moment that seemed uncomfortably intimate for Viktor to witness, despite the kisses he had shared with her, not to mention the times he had imagined her at rest, though he had certainly kept those thoughts to himself.
Viktor darted towards Hermione, relieved beyond belief that he had decided to leave himself the option of fingers when he got close enough to begin furiously wrestling with the rope. A few unfruitful minutes later he made a grunt of frustration, the sound coming out of his mouth like a twisted snarl followed by a gnashing of teeth, teeth! He plunged down below and bit at the thick twining, but his transfigured teeth weren't sharp enough, Viktor panicked, conscious that this was the very worst time to discover that the spell had not been as well executed as he had hoped. A sharp whack on his shoulder distracted him, and Viktor whipped around to find a startled looking Potter who, upon seeing his face up close, swam back quickly, seemingly wanting to keep a safe distance as he proffered a jagged rock. Viktor sighed in gratitude, ignoring how aggressive the sound that came out of his broad mouth was. Taking the rock, he cut through the ropes holding Hermione and immediately headed for the surface without looking back. He pulled her limp form against his body, holding her close as he propelled upwards. He had no idea what charm has been placed on her; she could breathe but there was no motion to her body, she was a dead weight, which even given how small she was, meant she took some manoeuvring.
After what felt like a lifetime, they broke the surface of the water and whatever spell had been placed on Hermione dissipated as soon as they hit the cool air. She began gasping for breath, making strained sounds as she dragged in huge lungfuls of air and Viktor automatically pulled her away from his chest so he could check her over. It was only when she began screaming, flailing her arms around violently, that he remembered the transfiguration. With a start he cancelled it, shaking his head involuntarily as the sides of his neck burned as his flesh knitted back together. Hermione had her eyes shut by this point and had missed his transformation, still flapping and splashing, coughing as she swallowed water in her panic.
"It is me. It is Viktor, you are safe," he said urgently, firming his grip on her shoulders to try and snap her out of it.
Hermione's eyes flicked open, and she stopped flapping. Her stillness only served to highlight how much she was shaking. Feeling anger come to the surface of his thoughts again, Viktor grasped Hermione more gently, manoeuvring her closer to the wooden platform before pulling her up out of the water and passing her to Mikhail and Filip who were waiting at the edge of the jetty with an anxious-looking Luna. Once she was securely up, Viktor accepted Mikhail's hand just as a student was running over with towels, he took both of those that were extended and wrapped them around Hermione.
"You ok?" he asked lowly, running the edge of one of the soft towels over her face to absorb the water clinging around her nose.
Hermione nodded, her teeth chattering, and he sighed, her weak affirmation did nothing to soothe him, she hadn't spoken since they had gotten out of the water. Not giving a flying fuck about anyone around them, Viktor pulled her trembling form towards him for a hard hug, as he aggressively rubbed his hands over her shivering arms, trying to get some warmth into her body. Viktor clenched his teeth, though whether because of the chill biting at his skin, or the rage simmering underneath it, he wasn't sure. As he stood next to Hermione, he realised she had been sent down in full robes - that had absorbed a lot more water than his gym kit - they weighed her down. She would need a lot more than a couple of towels if she were going to avoid getting sick.
"Need to get you out of here, get you dry," he said into her ear.
"There is tent at the back," Mikhail called suddenly, and it was only when Viktor registered his friend's voice that he realised he had dragged Hermione away from everyone else and had his arms around her protectively. Mikhail was watching his face warily until their eyes met and he mouthed 'calm down'.
"They didn't ask either of you?" he asked bluntly and Filip took a step forward to shake his head. "Ridiculous," Viktor muttered. Irritated, he readjusted himself and made to gather Hermione to take her to the tent.
"You need to stay here, for announcement," Filip murmured, and Viktor paused in his actions, wishing that he didn't agree.
"Fine," he gritted out, huffing as he turned back around to the shivering girl in front of him. Before he could say anything else, Luna rushed forward pushing one of her small arms under Hermione's.
"Come on," she commanded softly before looking up at him, "I will take care of her," she assured, and he nodded, trusting her completely but wishing he could go in her place. His friends stood next to him, silently, as he stoically watched the two girls move away. Mikhail did not attempt to speak until they were wholly out of view, Viktor realised that this was probably the angriest they had had ever seen him.
"Viktor, you need to get a hold of yourself," he chastised.
"Me?" he replied narrowing his eyes, his head reeling back incredulous. "She was at the bottom of a lake. In February. She looked like she was dead. She… She…" he closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "Her parents are Muggles, do you imagine anyone checked that this was ok?"
"Viktor," Filip tried, but he was too riled up to listen.
"Because of me, she was down there, because of me," he protested almost snarling.
"Enough," Mikhail snapped, placing his hands on his shoulders shaking him slightly. "Get through the presentation; we will talk after."
Only after Hermione had disappeared did Viktor notice that Potter still wasn't back. Though he didn't have long to ruminate on his absence, just as he finally accepted a towel for himself, the surface of the water gave way again, and Potter, as well as Weasley, and a little girl hit the air with a chaos of gasps and a flap of arms. If Fleur's hysterical reaction was any indication, it must have been her sister that was desperately clutching at Potter's shoulders. On instinct, Viktor and his friends stepped forward to help pull them onto the jetty, and Potter began trying to speak, hunched over while Filip banged him on the back. Sensing his purpose, Viktor cut him off. "Hermione, she is okay," he reassured with a confidence he didn't feel, and he saw the boy's shoulders sag.
The situation had only just calmed when the Fleur came running over, wasting no time she grasped Potter and spun him around with such force he almost left the ground. Her words were lost to Viktor, even if he had spoken perfect French, he doubted he would have been able to decipher the exact wording of Fleur's grateful babble, though her sentiments were easy enough to understand. When she looked as if she intended to manhandle the boy for the third time, Viktor intervened. Gillyweed was notorious for nausea after usage, and Potter already looked embarrassed enough without throwing up all over the pretty Veela. Viktor laid a hand on Fleur's shoulder and pulled her back gently.
"Okay?" he asked softly, not wanting their conversation to be heard by those that were a friend to neither of them. He understood how Fleur had it as a woman, and as a Veela, competing, it was the same for the women he played with on teams; she would not want to admit anything she viewed as a weakness in front of unfriendly ears. Fleur nodded looking wistfully across the platform back at her sister; the little girl was holding hands with a tall, beautiful witch with towels wrapped around her tiny form, and a beam on her face like she had just had the best adventure.
"Gabi, she is too young for this," Fleur said. "When I couldn't get down there I panicked."
"What happened?" Viktor asked. Filip had already mentioned that Fleur was an early retirement, but he didn't know why.
"The Grindylows, they got a grip on me, and I couldn't fight them off," she replied shaking her head, now that he was looking Viktor could see the tiny yet savage claw marks all over her pale skin.
"You did well to get away," he assured, and Fleur scoffed. "Mean it," he continued, "you did right thing, if you had carried on fighting them, could have been dragged down, who knows if they were in on it like the merpeople were. Could have been ages till someone came to look for you, then it would be too late."
"But…" she tried again, and Viktor rolled his eyes, something he was sure he was picking up from Hermione, drawing a reluctant laugh from her lips.
"I see you had no trouble rescuing your Princess," Fleur said with an arched eyebrow and Viktor, in spite of the chill in the air, felt a hint of warmth in his cheeks.
The unwelcome voice of Ludo Bagman once again echoed around the grounds, and Viktor listened to the judge's decisions. As he had suspected while he was under the surface, he had arrived back outside of the time limit, but as it turned out only seconds after Cedric. He should have been given second place, which would have given him a fair chance in the final round but, to the jubilation of the home crowd, the judges decided to make a special dispensation for Potter's show of bravery, meaning Viktor got bumped down to third overall. Viktor couldn't find him within himself to be upset, if it weren't for the boy's actions he might still be at the bottom of the lake attempting to gnaw his way through the rope tying Hermione with his too blunt teeth.
The post-task analysis continued, and Viktor tried to pay attention, almost entirely managing not to fidget. For the first time since the tournament began, he really didn't care about the championship standings. He hated everything about the task and felt no triumph or loss at his place. It was all he could do to even pay the smallest amount of attention. Usually, he would have been worried about the absence of his competitive nature, but he knew all too well why he was despondent. He signed up to this, knowing the dangers, and knowing what he would have to face, she hadn't. Sure, he had no doubt that Hermione had been asked to take part, Viktor suspected that even this tournament wouldn't go so far as to take her against her will, but that wasn't the point, she should never have been selected in the first place. Her being announced as his hostage and his behaviour afterwards would mean they would face more speculation than ever.
In the end, as the cumulative tournament scores were read out, he found he was in second place overall, though as the score for first was tied it was really third. Viktor intended to shelve his self-chastisement until a time when his irritation had died down, but as he saw his headmaster approaching, scowl fixed in place, he knew they would have to do this now. As Karkaroff moved with languid ease amongst the people milling around the jetty, Viktor attempted to ball up all of the emotions he was feeling, it would do him no good to mouth off at the headmaster, satisfying as it might feel in the moment, the effects would be temporary and the repercussions anything but. More than anything, Viktor understood the importance of deference and respect, even if he didn't always feel people deserved to receive either.
"Third place today and despite the travesty of the fourth champion I am sure you will agree that is not good enough," Karkaroff began, his usual calm veneer doing little to hide the fire in his eyes or the steely edge to his clipped tone. Viktor said nothing, the headmaster apparently needed to vent and experience had taught him that it was best to let him get everything out of his system.
"The transfiguration was a good plan," Karkaroff conceded with some reluctance, "but if the Diggory boy was able to get back within the time limit then so should you have been. We have not had mandatory swimming lessons on the curriculum for fifty years for you to be outdone. You have a lot to make up for in the final task Viktor; failure is not an option."
Viktor nodded solemnly, but before the headmaster could walk away, he voiced a question that had been growing in volume in his mind. "Did you know?" he asked quietly.
"About what?" Karkaroff asked impatiently, but the glimmer in his eyes let Viktor know he knew exactly what he had asked about. Dumbledore or one of the other Hogwarts teachers would have spoken to Hermione before the task, but they couldn't have been the ones to put her name forward as his hostage. Known of them knew him well enough for that, and they were hardly likely to go out on a limb just because he had taken her to the Yule Ball.
"Mikhail or Filip would have done it, gladly," Viktor accused, biting back the words and tone he so desperately wanted to use.
Karkaroff was unmoved, "Surely this has done you a favour Viktor, you wanted the girl, now it's so very public I am sure you can make your move to secure her," he finished smugly and walked off, quickly disappearing from view.