Viktor stood on the old, uneven flagstone pathway and watched as Hermione folded over a page in the Muggle notebook she was carrying and hurriedly jotted down a few thoughts. His eyes followed her around the small, vaguely well-kept garden, him cataloguing her movements in the same way that she logged everything she found. Viktor had asked Hermione to come house hunting with him over breakfast, and she was clearly taking her role - whatever she had decided it would be - seriously.
Hermione was wearing a white sundress that flittered around her knees, it was a wholly appropriate choice for the weather and the activity, and yet it had still distracted him for most of the morning. Viktor couldn't remember another time when he had seen Hermione wearing a dress, apart from at the Yule Ball, and she looked just as beautiful now, only in a very different way.
The white, floaty fabric of the skirt flounced as Hermione darted about, but Viktor couldn't tell what the top half of the dress looked like as Hermione had put on an oversized cardigan that disguised most of the rest of her form. As ever, Viktor thought she looked, and was, adorable. However, the letting agent they had that day did not seem to share his views. His obvious frustration with Hermione's lingering and lack of outward exclamations over property features had made the man muttered under his breath and roll his eyes almost continually over the last two hours. Hermione hadn't seemed to notice; she was too engrossed in making her notes. Viktor was sure he would be presented with a synopsis of them later. He wanted to tell her he didn't care about points and measures, he wanted to know how Hermione felt in each place if there was any she was more comfortable in than the others. He wanted to ask what changes she would have made, but he didn't feel able to articulate any of that, and so he settled for following along behind her as she observed the details.
The agent cleared his throat, no doubt in an attempt to draw their attention to the fact that they had been stood in the front garden for ten minutes without even trying to make it inside, and when Hermione finally looked his way, the exasperated man opened the door with a flourish.
Viktor held the door for Hermione as the agent preceded them, excitedly walking around the room and pointing out the 'finer' details of the listing. The house was not much larger than a standard cottage, but plenty big enough for himself and the occasional houseguest. The current owner's taste was what Viktor's mother would have called unoffensive, and while it was not difficult to change decoration, it did make it easier to imagine yourself living somewhere when everything was minimal. Viktor's eyes swept around as the agent continued to overexplain everything as if neither himself or Hermione had encountered such a thing as a window before and might need to be acquainted of its function.
"... as you can see the primary living space is open plan, the designated kitchen area is seperated off by a state of the art island and fitted with all the latest in magical cooking aids… three bedrooms upstairs one that would make quite the impressive master… a lovely bay window overlooking the rockery… a wonderful collection of succulents that separate the informal garden from the formal... "
Viktor, being of a more practical sort, ignored the no doubt world class shrubbery and instead, looked around to satisfy himself that the structure of the building was sound. Anything else could be worked out later, but his father would be utterly disappointed in him if he purchased a house that wouldn't at least remain standing during his lifetime.
The agent finished his shpiel and hot-footed it into the garden, Viktor suspected he was rushing off to have a few puffs of a pipe or possibly even a shot of a calming draft. "You two have a look on your own; I'll just be outside."
Viktor released a large whoosh of air when the man left and willed his ears to stop ringing. Merlin, the man could talk. This was the third property they had visited so far, and at least he seemed to have finally got the message that the hard sell wasn't working.
Honestly, Viktor wasn't even all that interested in nosing around. So far in his hunt, he had only managed to see five places, and three of those had been today. While he was very keen to get his own home, he took no joy in this part of the experience. The agents he had used and been a mixture of fawning and inept which had made it all rather painful so far. A deep-seated feeling of confusion magnified this discomfort. It didn't seem to matter what questions the agent asked he had no real opinion, he didn't know what he wanted. Outside of a budget and a location radius that is.
Viktor was sure that asking his mum would be a backwards step. While she might have been able to breeze in and think of a hundred things Viktor had never even considered, he was confident she would continue to find fault with all that she saw, to ensure he stayed under her roof a little longer.
Viktor smiled to himself as he spied a tell-tale cloud of grey smoke float past the window and walked over to Hermione as she was inspecting a bookcase built into the wall behind a sofa. "What do you think?" He asked, taking a quick look at what appeared to be a full page of notes clutched between her fingers.
Hermione glanced about the place with a shrug. "I'm not sure. It's perfectly lovely I suppose. I've just never thought of you as the type of person that would be happy in a cottage, not for your first place anyway."
"No?" Viktor replied, "What kind of place can you imagine then?"
"A flat? Sky high on some ridiculous floor number, with huge windows and neutral colours, perfect for a bachelor pad," she explained with a tiny wrinkle of her nose. "Somewhere you can have parties, eat cheese straight from the fridge, and not pick up your socks."
Viktor laughed. "Instead of parties imagine mastery work, and I am very offended that you would think I am untidy."
"I apologise most sincerely Mr Krum," Hermione replied tartly, "but I am afraid it's tough not to stereotype. I live most of the year with boys after all, and dirty socks on the floor are only the tip of the iceberg."
Viktor pulled Hermione into a hug and saw that the smoke outside had disappeared. "One day I will understand all of the sayings you use."
Hermione giggled against his chest. "How would I get my fun then?"
Viktor pinched her side before swiping her notebook from her now relaxed fingers and skimming the first two pages. "Not for me?" he summarised quickly, and Hermione's distaste flashed over her face before she could stop it making Viktor chuckle. For all that Hermione could be indecisive and awkward, she certainly knew her own mind. She had felt uncomfortable wholeheartedly voicing her opinion on what would become his home, but she had made her feelings clear regardless.
The joy was promptly sucked out of the room as the unmistakable sound of the back door opening reached them. Viktor sighed and released Hermione from his hold and turned to face the reappeared agent.
"So, what do we think?" the man began brightly.
"Not this one," Viktor replied evenly.
The agent's eyes dimmed for a moment before he seemed to recharge and turned his attention onto Hermione. "Well, not a problem, for a client such as yourself Mr Krum I am sure only the very best will do." Viktor rolled his eyes so hard he was sure he could see the back of his head. "So, Miss Granger wasn't it? What is it that you are you looking for? In our line of work, we often find that it's the witch's decisions that really sway things."
Hermione flushed and was looking at the man as if he had two heads. While Viktor had no problem at all with the agent's assumption, he was never keen on Hermione's discomfort, unless it was a direct result of his teasing.
"We would like to look at apartments next," he replied in her place, as he walked forward so he could take Hermione's hand and give it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. "That was what you wanted right darling?"
Hermione's head snapped to his, though her look of confusion quickly morphed into accusation, and Viktor was especially glad the agent was still in the room, for fear that otherwise, he might have been the first wizard ever to be beaten to death by a notebook.
Viktor answered a few more of the agent's questions as the man began sorting through his stack of listings before he acknowledged Hermione's constant tugging on his hand. He dropped his head down so his voice wouldn't carry over the small space.
"I think you might be right about apartments; that was all."
"Oh, that was all, was it darling?"
Viktor smirked. "Yes, dear."
The agent approached waving a smaller pile and suggested they head to the next property, Viktor readily agreed. As the man took off down the garden path to the nearest apparition point, Hermione relaxed her death grip on his hand and rested her head against his shoulder.
"You really are infuriating, Viktor," she said affectionately.
"Do not be upset, Hermione," Viktor murmured and gestured to the agent disappearing ahead of them. "Come on, and bring your notebook. I hear the witch's opinion really sway these things."
Hermione narrowed her eyes as she angrily swiped her hair out of her face. "I'll get you back when I'm not so tired, Viktor Krum, who knew viewing houses could be so exhausting?"
"I would pick you up, but I think it will make you madder at me," Viktor said as he took his hand out of Hermione's to wrap an arm around her waist.
"Good call," she replied into his jumper as they begrudgingly quickened their step.
Hermione marched down the quaint, cobbled street with a broad smile on her face and a skipping Luna at her side. The sun was beginning to set and every now and again a sweet smell would waft over to her from the flowers planted in large terracotta pots outside the various bars and restaurants they passed by. The whole scene would have been wonderfully idyllic - picture perfect even - if it weren't for the constant, nagging interruption of her thoughts.
"Where are we going?" Filip's voice whined, and Hermione shook her head to clear the uncharacteristically poetic train of her thoughts. She resisted the urge to turn around and appease him, Filip had sounded increasingly like a bored child the further they walked, she just knew he would have his face contorted into a little pout, and that would batter against her resolve to keep quiet.
"You will see… soon," Hermione replied brightly, in her best imitation of Matilda's Miss Honey, as Luna attempted to control her giggles.
"You said that fifteen minutes ago, Hermione."
"I did," Hermione replied through gritted teeth, her mimicry of the perfect primary school teacher falling away in the face of Filip's growing petulance. "But we are very close now."
Filip snorted and muttered something under his breath, and once again Hermione was able to see the funny side. Up until now, she had considered Viktor's handsome, energetic friend to be practically above reproach, seeing him grumpy was a glorious reminder that even the incredibly attractive could be immature, faulted, and oh so human.
"Haven't you ever heard the saying that in life the journey is the real reward?"
"No, I have not," Filip snapped, "and do not pretend that you would ever say something so feeble if you weren't enjoying torturing me so much."
"He does make it rather easy," Luna sing-songed before picking up the pace of her skip and moving ahead.
"Who knew that you were so impatient Filip?" Hermione questioned as she went back to observing the shift from day to night all around them.
"We did," Viktor and Mikhail answered in tandem and from up ahead Luna lost the battle with holding in her mirth.
As they continued up the busy street, Hermione heard quickened footsteps behind her, and she knew it was Viktor without looking around. Mikhail would not have singled her out for a private conversation, and despite his mounting frustration, Filip would be too frightened of Viktor to attempt to throttle her… in his presence at least.
"As much as I am enjoying the journey," Viktor said with a deliberate eye roll that made Hermione smile, "will you be revealing soon? Filip does not like surprises unless he is organising them."
"Yes, it's just around this corner."
Viktor looked sceptical but Hermione smiled widely, and he shook his head fondly before falling back, no doubt in an attempt to appease his unhappy friend. Hermione tried to feel sympathetic, but she was honestly too excited to be anywhere near successful.
Viktor had suggested meeting everyone for drinks after their, unfortunately fruitless, house hunting expedition, but Hermione had suddenly had another idea. As they had no formal plans for the evening apart from getting together, she had thought it would be an excellent opportunity to organise a Muggle night out. None of Viktor's friends had ever seemed the type that would find it beneath them, and Hermione had often thought during their time together that Viktor would find a lot of things available in the Muggle world interesting.
For herself, Hermione felt she had a curiosity that would almost be equal to theirs. When they knew where they were going of course. While she had a much higher understanding of Muggle culture, she hadn't had many opportunities to experience it. Hermione had all but left the Muggle world for most of the year when she was only eleven and hadn't had any friends to speak of before that. Her entire Muggle socialisation, outside of her home and primary school, was limited to a few children's parties when she was very small, and the only activities they had afforded were the dubious delights of bouncy castles and rainbow jelly.
When they had arrived back at Viktor's house, stacks of property details in hand, Sofiya had pounced on him to discuss what they had seen, and Hermione had taken her chance to get Luna in on her plan. A few short inquiries in the local town and they were ready to go.
Hermione sped up to grab Luna's hand as they made an abrupt turn around a corner and then, they were there, in a vast, almost abandoned looking car park. The neon glow from the retro-styled signage was virtually invisible due to the lingering amount of daylight and the building needed a new paint job, but Hermione was too eager to notice.
"What on earth….?"
"Is this it?"
"What is it?"
Hermione allowed the confused voices to continue for a moment before she turned. "We are going… bowling!"
"And what exactly is that?"
"Are we doing it… in there?"
"That building looks a bit….."
"Rundown."
"That's part of its charm," Hermione insisted. "Come on," she gestured, pulling Viktor forward towards the building and hoping the rest would follow without much further protest.
They had almost made it inside the rickety automatic doors when Mikhail made himself heard. "You know there was an easier way to get here, right?"
Hermione took a large slurp of her drink enjoying the obnoxious noise it made and tried to morph her face into something resembling an encouraging expression as Mikhail stretched out from his seat, with all the grace of a put upon Prince, and selected his ball to take his turn. His mouth pinched as his borrowed shoe caught on a sticky patch of floor and Hermione tried not to laugh at his obvious discomfort.
For two relatively, and one professionally, sporty guys, the wizards were not doing well, though most of it wasn't their fault. They had been flummoxed by the unusual noise of arcade games and the thunderous clearing of any remaining pins. The request to wear shoes that had been worn by a whole host of other people had Mikhail almost retreating for the door - stopped by Luna softly asking if he would be her partner, which had made Hermione smile - but, despite their apparent uneasiness, they were trying and for that Hermione loved them all the more.
Filip had picked the brightest, pinkest ball available, and was currently sharing the assist ramp with a little boy from the family playing next to them, much to the child's obvious delight. Filip had been charmed to discover that Muggles had actual attire for the recreational activity after spotting a men's team practice at the far end of the lanes, and between his returned exuberance and Luna's insistence on speaking to the balls and encouraging them, Hermione was more than content.
After Mikhail had made a decent attempt, it was Viktor's turn. Not that you could tell from the screen above their heads. Luna had talked the others into letting her type in the initials and Hermione, thinking her friend seemed like a toddler who wanted to press the buttons in a lift, was happy to let her despite her inexperience. The problem with that decision only emerged later when it became clear that the 'code' Luna had used was indecipherable to anyone else, they could only discern that it was apparently hilarious as Luna laughed every time a new name flashed.
Viktor kissed the side of her forehead, and Hermione glanced across the table laden with all of the food that the bowling alley had to offer. Hermione was ignoring all of the flying saucers, and other assorted crap Filip had bought but was working her way through a cup that had made Viktor laugh as he said it was as big as her head and a basket of fried chicken strips. While Hermione had never been a big one for sweets, growing up with dentists had made her terrified of cavities, she did love fizzy drinks, and she didn't often get to indulge anymore. Pumpkin juice was okay, but it was no Coke Zero.
Hermione watched as Viktor selected a ball and stood at the end of the lane, practising his throw a couple of times. She could tell that he was getting far more into the bowling than he wanted to let on. That was the competitor in him. Viktor wanted to win. It was something Hermione could understand, maybe not in a sporting context but she had the same drive academically. She didn't just want to get good marks, she wanted the best, and not just that she wanted to beat other people to do it.
Luna slumped down on the seat next to her and helped herself to a big cloud of pink candy floss as Viktor bent to finally release his ball.
"You seem preoccupied Hermione."
Hermione flushed and only just suppressed her jump surprised at the turn of her own thoughts. She had been wondering how appropriate it would have been to buy Viktor a pair of jeans, and if it was okay for a girlfriend to do something like that, how long would it be into their relationship before such a thing seemed normal and not… well, a little pervy.
"I'm feeling very like Ginny at the moment," Hermione replied as Luna rested her head on her shoulder and followed her line of sight.
"I think she would be proud of you."
Hermione giggled, "You might be right."
Before Viktor got back to the seats, Filip got up and the two were quickly roughhousing, Hermione was sure if Mrs Weasley were there - heaven forbid - she would have blamed such behaviour on the sugar they had consumed in the last hour. Mikhail joined the boys not long after, though whether to break it up or take part was unclear, Hermione left them to their own devices seeing her opportunity for a private chat with her friend.
"Luna," she began cautiously, as the blonde tucked an impossibly large bit of the candy floss into her mouth, puffing her cheeks up like a hamster. "What's going on with you and Mikhail?"
Luna shrugged before visibly gulping down a large chunk of what was in her mouth. "He is interested," she replied matter of factly, "but he's not made any declaration, as of yet."
"And how do you feel about that…"
Luna shrugged again, "We will see."
The boys finally broke apart, and Luna nudged Hermione to take her turn, she glanced at Viktor as he moved past her to retake his seat, and the back of his hand purposefully brushed against hers as he did so.
"What's the score again?" she asked with faux confusion as she rounded on the boys, holding her chosen ball against her hip.
"Luna's winning," all three responded at once, with varying degrees of cheer and Hermione beamed at them.
"Delightful."
When they arrived home later that evening, Viktor felt exhausted but happy. He doubted Hermione had intended them to stay out so late when she had made her plans, but after Luna had won the first round, without noticeable effort, there was a clear case of wounded male pride that made them play another shot, and then another. Not that continuing had done them any good. Luna had prevailed again in the second round, and Hermione the third which had made her so happy she was nearly bouncing. She may not have cared the slightest bit about any sport, but Hermione enjoyed winning.
His friends had enjoyed their trip into the Muggle side of his home town as much as he had. And even though Filip complained about Hermione's 'unfair advantage' for the entirety of their walk back to the apparition point, he did so while carrying Hermione on his back for her 'victory lap', so he couldn't have been too upset.
Viktor walked the girls around the back of the house and opened the door, ready to run his hands down the wall to activate the lighting charms, only, when the door opened, he found he didn't have to. There, in the main kitchen were his mum and dad, sitting up at the rarely used island, eating sandwiches on their third best china with large glasses of red wine.
Viktor was stunned into inaction by the sight. He couldn't remember a time his parents had ever dined anywhere other than one of the appointed rooms, or in such a relaxed fashion.
"We felt like being informal this evening," his mother said with a soft smile as she stood to refill his father's glass.
Viktor nodded absently before gesturing for the girls to come in and closed the door behind them. "You will be able to do this more when I move out."
Sofiya did not respond; however, her eyes narrowed, and she seemed to grip the wine bottle between her fingers with less than her usual grace.
"Do not upset your mother, Viktor, not while she's holding a weapon," his father warned before tipping his glass in his wife's direction.
"It is a wine bottle," Viktor said with confusion as his father just grinned at him.
"In the hands of a capable witch I do not doubt that it could be as dangerous as a wand. You will learn in life to never turn your back on an angry witch," he said with a significant look at Hermione.
Viktor walked over to the cool cabinet to fetch some drinks for the girls as they excitedly told his parents all about their evening, Luna told them about her wins which seemed to particularly please his mother before she turned towards the other side of the kitchen.
"Oh, Hermione, there was an owl for you. It must have been a couple of hours ago now. It was very persistent in waiting for a reply, and stayed for around thirty minutes before it eventually left."
Hermione got to her feet as her brows pinched. "Strange, I wasn't expecting to hear from anyone."
"I left it over there," Sofiya said, gesturing to the other side of the kitchen.
Viktor handed Hermione a glass of water as she passed him on her way to the now shut window and Viktor leaned against the stall she had been using, angling forward to steal a piece of chicken off his father's plate. His father's loud protests about using his professional skills for 'evil means' were cut dead off when Hermione opened her letter, and then, a moment later glass smashed all over the kitchen floor.
Hermione stalked into the ensuite bathroom she had luxuriated in during her stay and gathered up her toiletries in one swoop before returning to the bedroom and throwing them on top of her hastily made bed. In front of a growing mass of her possessions, sat the trunk she had been packing. One glance inside would tell you that the job she was doing was far from her usual organised efforts. But then she didn't feel much like herself. Ever since she had received Sirius' hurried note the night before, Hermione's stomach had been in knots. She had wanted nothing more than to leave for England straight away, but Viktor's parents had stepped in, and as much as Hermione hadn't liked it, she could see the logic in not crashing back to Grimmauld in the middle of the night. Harry wasn't even there yet.
'Everything will look better in the morning' Sofiya had said. Hermione wasn't sure if it was her words, Grigor's warm hand on her shoulder or the worried look in Viktor's eyes that eventually made her relent, but back down she did. When she had calmed enough to realise what she had done, she profusely apologised for the broken glass and accepted the offer of tea before being sent off to bed. Luna had joined Hermione in her room for a few hours, but neither had said much, they merely held hands over the duvet as the realities of what the next year would be like began to sink in.
A trial, Sirius had said. His note was short and to the point, explaining what had happened and the Wizegamot's planned action. He made a crude comment about the Ministry's inability to distinguish actual security threats and reminded her that the world was different now. It made Hermione think of the Headmaster's speech at the end of the year, up to now she had only remembered the call for unity, but, on reflection, it was so much more than that. It was a reminder of the dark times that lay ahead and a warning that not everyone was willing to accept that an old enemy had returned.
The Ministry had made their move. How much longer would they have to wait before they could make theirs?
Hermione rolled up the clothes she had worn and folded them around the more precious items in her trunk. Magical cases had additional protections on the inside to prevent breakages but old habits died hard, and Hermione felt better when she had something to do while her brain buzzed.
After getting up as early as possible and dressing quickly, Hermione had opened her door and left it ajar in case Luna came looking for her and was afraid of waking her up. As such the warning knock that came a moment or two later sounded was louder than Hermione had gotten pleasantly used to and she smiled at Viktor as he pushed the door the rest of the way open and walked into her bedroom.
He didn't say anything as he entered, though he returned her smile. Hermione wondered if he was as disappointed as she felt though really she already knew he was. She knew her place was with Harry, but it couldn't make her happy about leaving Viktor. She had felt nothing less than utterly welcome during her stay, and she would sorely miss their time together.
Hermione realised that if she were serious about pursuing a relationship with Viktor, there would now always be a part of her that would feel as if she weren't in the right place. Since she was eleven, Harry had been the most important person in her life, and she had made him her priority; Hermione was sensible of the fact that there would be a time in the future, if they survived this war, where that might no longer be the case.
Viktor wistfully eyed Hermione's half-packed trunk before sitting on a clear patch of bedding, raising an eyebrow when he could see Dragon, slumbering peacefully from within a nest made of Hermione's summer pyjamas.
"You brought him with you?"
Hermione managed a proper smile when she could hear the amusement in Viktor's voice. "Dragon comes with me everywhere."
The 'because you gave him to me' remained unsaid, though she knew Viktor would understand.
Hermione picked up the few pairs of flat shoes she was still yet to pack and went about organising them while Viktor ran a finger down Dragon's scales, being careful not to touch the clothing that was wrapped around the tiny, slumbering beast.
Hermione was incredibly grateful that even in her distressed state she had managed to pack her underwear first. It was bad enough saying goodbye to Viktor at all, to do so surrounded by pieces of well-worn cotton would have been unthinkably embarrassing. Well, a stack of pale cloth and the one red pair of briefs that she had purchased on a whim at the start of the holidays, not that she had built up the courage to wear them yet, or to think about what buying them had meant.
"Can I help?" Viktor asked eventually, as he folded his hands in his lap.
"No, it's okay. I'm nearly done, but thank you for offering."
Her reply was met with silence as if neither of them knew what to say. It was the first time since she had arrived that Hermione had felt awkward and she hated it.
"I feel dreadful for cutting short our time together," she blurted. They had planned on a whole week, and they had only just managed half of that time. "I hope you will forgive me and maybe… maybe I could come back next summer?"
It was as brave as Hermione could force herself to be, and when she saw Viktor shake his head slightly, she feared for the worst until he settled his hands in front of himself, resolved.
"I cannot wait until then. I would like to come back with you. If you will let me."
There was silence again only this time, Hermione was not scrambling for anything to say, she had all too much to say, but the words were jumbling up and over each other in her mind.
"You would… but what about…," she managed ineloquently. Hermione wanted Viktor to come with her, more than anything, but she didn't want to get too excited. He had commitments and a life that was separate and far removed from her and her issues.
"I can do what I need to come, Hermione, my question is do you want me to?"
The hopeful note in his voice that he took no trouble to hide made Hermione move before her mind caught up. She dumped the clothes she had been holding and launched herself towards him so that her arms wrapped around Viktor's neck. "I would very much like you to come."
Viktor secured his arms around her back and pulled her into his lap. "I already booked out practice sessions. I was clearing time to be with you this week."
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked as she let herself exhale against his chest. The next few days were likely to be incredibly rough, and oh so selfishly she would feel so much better if he were with her.
"Yes, if I go and I can make sure someone looks after you while you look after everyone else."
Hermione held Viktor tighter and wondered how she could make this happen, Grimmauld Place wasn't exactly somewhere you could show up with an uninvited guest, not least because it wasn't her house. After running through a few options, she decided to send a note to Auror Tonks. Hermione just hoped she could do what was needed.
An hour later, with an affirmative and rather effusive response from Tonks in her pocket, Hermione, Luna and Viktor were ready to head to Grimmauld Place. Their trunks were all packed - she had learnt over the course of the morning that Viktor's had been packed up overnight - and they were in the main hall, saying goodbye to Viktor's parents.
"Write to me Hermione," Sofiya said as she gave her a warm hug, "as my only child has seen fit to fly the nest without reason I may not hear about you as much as I have in the last year."
"I will be in the same country Mama," Viktor replied under his breath, but his mother paid him no attention.
The girls stepped back as Viktor's parents surrounded him to say their own goodbyes and Hermione noticed that Grigor was relating something that looked rather grave when Luna coughed to get her attention.
"You realise this is going to be very weird?" she said as she gestured an arm in Viktor's direction.
Hermione sighed. "I do." In reality weird was an understatement. She had the impression from her short response that Tonks had made the executive decision to keep quiet about Viktor's sudden arrival, probably for the Auror's own amusement.
"Do you think he is ready?" Luna asked as Viktor's mother grabbed both his cheeks.
"Not at all."
"Excellent," Luna replied brightly, "after all, only the very best things happen unexpectedly."
"I hope you are right," Hermione said with little conviction.
"I always am… eventually."
A/N: Happy Sunday party people. Thank you for your continued love for this fic, you are the best. In the next chapter, we are back in Grimmauld Place… dun dun dun! Feathers will be ruffled, and I am not talking about Buckbeak, I imagine he is somewhat ambivalent to events existing outside of Sirius' bedroom.