A/N: Finally, a new chapter for you all. Apologies for the delay, I have been shamelessly ignoring my writing to do list and doing almost anything to avoid it. If you are in the UK I hope you have been enjoying the sun - isn't everyone so much nicer when the weather is good? Thank you to everyone reading, reviewing and adding to lists. I have received so many notifications for this story over the last few days, and I appreciate every single one of them. Also, a big thank you to reviewer cancan227 who likened Viktor to a holiday souvenir - I loved that, and so I have included it below.

They - the two teenage girls and their Bulgarian souvenir - landed with a muted pop on an unknown grassy bank, thankfully they were not overlooked. Hermione staggered away from Viktor's firm grasp and willed her stomach to settle. While she may have preferred not to look ridiculous in his presence, it was either brace her legs and lever forward or be sick all over him. She chose the former.

As she focused on her breathing, Hermione glanced around at their surprisingly idyllic surroundings. Tonks had suggested a small Muggle park as a preferred apparition spot and Hermione had readily agreed. It was far less conspicuous than suddenly appearing on the street outside of headquarters. London Muggles may not have been interested in the goings on around them, but they weren't totally oblivious.

Hermione was grateful for a few moments outside in the summer air before she had to re-enter the stale confines of Grimmauld place once again. While she was sure the work to improve the house had continued in her absence, Hermione doubted she would be witness to much improvement.

"Hermione?" Viktor said as he laid a hand on her lower back and rubbed in gentle, rhythmic circles. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she responded automatically, though why she couldn't have told you. She was clearly not fine. She typically struggled with side-along; it was worse when carrying an additional passenger. Viktor had said before they left that apparition wasn't his strong suit, and he had certainly not been lying.

Once the watery taste left her mouth, Hermione straightened herself out and tried to give Viktor a reassuring smile before she looked over to check on Luna, who was looking a little green around the gills herself. "Shall we go?" she asked with forced cheer before wrapping her hand tightly around Viktor's.

Hermione had been trying to put on a brave face for Viktor's sake, but she knew he could probably see through it. In just the few days they had spent together she realised how much closer they had become and she had never been much of an actress in the first place. She was worried about Harry, and her guest's reception and her anxiety had been growing ever since she had woken up that morning.

Luna had squeezed her hand before they had left the Krum's home, and Hermione had once again found herself incredibly grateful for her younger friend. There would have been no one better for her to have taken on that trip, and a small part of her held on to a hope that one day - impending war notwithstanding - they might be able to repeat it.

Once they had recovered and regained their bearings, they cut across a small area of rose bushes and headed towards the east gate. Hermione knew she had found the right spot when she could see Tonks - sporting shoulder-length blue hair - leaning up against a twisted up tree in the distance.

Despite their momentary nausea, the three walked unencumbered, and Hermione was very grateful to Sofiya who had thought to shrink their trunks before they left, rather than sending them on.

"Wotcher, Mione," Tonks greeted as soon as they got close enough. Her smile seemed genuine, and Hermione was pleased her instinct to contact the young Auror had been correct.

Tonks straightened and placed a piece of gum in her mouth before looking Viktor up and down with a smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks for your note, by the way, Hermione. I can't think why you didn't reach out to Molly."

Luna giggled which made the tips of Tonk's hair lighten and then Viktor stepped forward, pushing an arm against his chest and giving a bow. "Madame Tonks, I am Viktor Krum, I am pleased to meet you. Thank you for your service in escorting myself, Hermione and Luna."

Tonk's eyebrows waggled at Hermione over Viktor's bent frame, and Hermione shook her head in lieu of a response. She still wasn't used to Viktor's more formal ways. He had such a relaxed demeanour most of the time and so they often surprised her. After getting to know his parents, she could understand where he got it from. Such things were expected of him in his world. In a way, although it wasn't what she had grown up with, Hermione felt it was damn preferable to the way a teenage boy would usually greet someone who had done him a favour - so she decided not to comment.

"Pleasure is all mine," Tonks replied with a widening grin and then met Viktor's outstretched hand - not with the shake that he had been anticipating but with a fist bump. "I'm a big fan of you, and this entire situation," she finished turning to look at Hermione with a wink.

The anxiety carrying butterflies Hermione had been dealing with all morning started to beat faster against the walls of her stomach, and she tried to give Tonks a stern look, but she knew she had failed when the Auror laughed.

"Come on then kids!" Tonks said while motioning them with one arm towards the exit. "Time to get this show on the road."

The teenagers dutifully followed her direction, and Luna fell into step with Tonks as Viktor grabbed Hermione's arm. "What was she saying?" he asked, confusion etched all over his face. "She speaks so fast!"

Hermione smiled. "I'll explain everything later," she said, she was too nervous about their upcoming reception to do so now.

Viktor nodded though he looked a little apprehensive and Hermione bumped his shoulder until he smiled and grabbed her hip, pulling her towards himself. "That went well?"

Hermione shrugged. "I think so."

"Will they all go well?"

Hermione grimaced. "I hope so."

The fading lacquered door closed behind them, and once again, the peaceful light from the outside world was shut away. Hermione eyed the same dank, cold corridor and allowed herself a small sigh. At least this time she was entering flanked by people she cared about.

Viktor enlarged their cases and piled them by the door, and Hermione took a few steps forward to see who was around only to inadvertently wake up Mrs Black portrait. She had heard it so often by now it seemed only like noise, she was far from as affected by it as she had been when she had first arrived weeks ago. If anything, it made Hermione feel bored. Even the old hags insults hadn't changed since she had been away — Home Sweet Home.

Hermione was rolling up her sleeves ready to attempt to close the moth-eaten, largely ineffectual curtains when she was pushed back by Viktor standing in front of her. His face had darkened as he regarded Sirius' mother, and the painted lady seemed to pause for a moment before she began again. Viktor stalked forward and swiftly pulled the covering across though when he turned back around, he still looked troubled.

"It's just a portrait," Hermione offered with a shrug.

"You should not have to live here, with that," he muttered, and Hermione twinned her fingers with his before rising on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. She would have said more, but a commotion at the end of the now quiet corridor was quickly spotted, and Sirius came barrelling in from the kitchen, with Remus not far behind.

"The travellers return ay?" the man of the house greeted loudly, and Hermione noted that he did not seem surprised, horrified, angry, indifferent or any of the other million things she had imagined he might.

"Tonks let us know you were coming back early," Remus explained, at a volume much more suited to their indoor location than Sirius' had been. Hermione noticed a faint blush on her former professor's cheeks as he mentioned the young Auror, and she wondered whether Tonk's feelings remained as unrequited as they had been at the start of the holidays.

"Viktor, is it?" Sirius asked jovially, and with almost no trace of the alienated, wrongly imprisoned convict in his manner. He stepped forward to shake Viktor's hand, and they shared a few words over something Viktor was supposed to have done in a match that Hermione had no knowledge of. Hermione looked on quietly and wondered if she would ever get the true measure of Sirius Black, he was such a mix of seemingly contradictory parts, not helped by the hardships of his life.

Sirius turned to her with a wicked gleam in his eyes that Hermione already knew him well enough to fear. "You're a dark horse, Hermione," he observed in an exaggerated whisper, far louder than his already overly loud speaking voice. "Who knew your taste ran to international Quidditch stars?"

Hermione was thankful for the houses ability to dim all natural light as she felt her face flood with heat. "Thank you, Sirius, I didn't expect this to be awkward at all, and you have made it so much better," she sarcastically replied which only seemed to please him more.

"Viktor this is Sirius Black, of the Ancient and Noble House of Black," Hermione recited with a mocking curtsey. "You may have heard of him; he is also Harry's Godfather."

"I have heard of you of course," Viktor replied kindly, showing all of the grace Hermione had never possessed by not mentioning where from. Hermione imagined the news of an escaped convict that was incarcerated for murdering thirteen people would have made the newspapers on the continent just as much as it had at home.

"And this is Remus Lupin. He is a former professor of ours specialising in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Remus and Viktor exchanged a polite greeting and, despite Sirius' need to take the piss out of her, Hermione felt warmed by how their first interactions had gone. "I suppose you could call them weird uncles," she offered finally. "They're as close as I have to family in the wizarding world. The Brady bunch we are not." Please meet my family Viktor, the convict, the werewolf and oh so many more.

When three sets of eyes looked at her inquiringly, Hermione realised what she had said. She waved a hand in front of her face. "Muggle thing."

Sirius looked at her appraisingly. "With your curly mop, you could almost pass for a Black."

"Though thankfully for you, Hermione, you don't have the deranged look in your eyes that would truly confirm it," Remus countered, and Hermione and Luna giggled.

"Thanks, Moony. You complete twat."

"Well, things to do," Remus said, ignoring Sirius poking out his tongue like a child. "Viktor, I'll show you where you'll be staying."

Hermione gave Viktor a nod of encouragement and then he was led off up the stairs. Luna disappeared into the kitchens in search of something to tide her over before dinner, and Hermione was just about to ask about Harry when the corridor was overwhelmed by the sound of a door slamming above, followed by heavy footfalls and a further fiery crash.

"Harry arrived this morning," Sirius needlessly explained, and Hermione felt her shoulders tense.

"How is he?"

Sirius looked towards the upstairs landing contemplatively. "Not the best."

"I should go up and see him," Hermione said as she pushed her teeth into her bottom lip.

Sirius nodded, but his earlier carefree expression had been washed away. He looked older. The emotional weight he carried around on his shoulders was almost visible again. She was halfway up the first set of stairs before he called to her.

"Hermione," he said, and she paused, "remember to wear your thick skin, okay? He's hurting."

Hermione forced herself not to stop at the threshold of the boy's room, for fear that if she did, she would never work up the courage to cross it. Her apprehension was as insurmountable as it was ridiculous. She had spent the whole summer desperate to see Harry, and now he was here - a single door separated them - and she was stalling. After a quick knock, Hermione pushed the door open and sucked in a breath to calm herself enough to get through the next few minutes.

Harry and Ron were sat on the sides of their respective beds on either side of the room, facing each other, though there didn't seem to be much conversation going on. Ron gave her a glance that screamed caution and Hermione bit down the resentment such a warning triggered within herself. She wasn't entirely socially awkward; she knew not to barrel in - especially when it came to Harry. Hermione shook herself and tried to remember that Ron was trying to be helpful, even if he did so in a way that infuriated her.

Hermione turned her attention away from Ronald and looked at Harry, and the sight of him made her heart hurt. There was kinetic energy about her friend that was present even with him sitting mostly still. It was like there was a buzzing under the surface of his skin that warned he might get up and run at any moment. Hermione wanted to hug him in greeting, but she could tell from the set of Harry's shoulders - and the fact that he had yet to acknowledge her presence - that it would have been far from welcome.

After a moment's indecision, Hermione sat next to Harry on his bed, sitting far enough away so that she wasn't crowding him. She wasn't sure it was the best idea, but the room was small, and the alternative was sitting next to Ron, and she was concerned that would appear to Harry as if it was them against him, which would be unhelpful and far from the truth; her and Ron hardly ever agreed on anything.

"It's so good to see you, Harry," she said earnestly and tried not to babble when she was met with silence. "We have missed you very much."

Hermione let her fingers twist in her lap and tried to keep her mouth clamped shut. She wasn't known for her patience, or anything approaching it. Her mother had once told her, in the gentle way that only a mother could, that she could sometimes lack empathy. Hermione had agreed, however, with her friends, it was different. She tried to fight down her nature and let conflicts move at a pace the other person was comfortable with. It was excruciating.

After several moments Harry finally met her eyes, but the coldness there shocked her, even though she had been expecting it.

"I'm sure it's been terrible, Hermione, off with your boyfriend, you must have been cut up."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but the words died on her tongue. She didn't have anything to say in response, in many ways, she agreed with Harry's attack. Though it hadn't seemed fair to her, or Viktor, for her to stay at home for Harry's sake, she couldn't say she wouldn't have felt the same in his shoes. Harry had been dealing with months of isolation, and he should never have been made to suffer that after the events of the previous year.

Hermione was saved from response as Ron sat forward. "Harry, mate," he interjected, more softly than Hermione would have previously thought possible. "That's not fair."

Hermione was stunned into silence as Harry's head whipped to the other side of the room. "Isn't it?" he snapped.

"No," Ron replied, without rising to his friend's temper. "It's not."

Harry scoffed before turning away from Ron. "I suppose I shouldn't be furious, at least with you dating Viktor I've now got someone looking out for me."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, and Hermione swallowed away some of the dryness in her throat so she could respond.

"Viktor has been sending Harry parcels as we couldn't," she replied quietly, but her repentance was not enough for Harry.

"Does that absolve your guilt, Hermione?" he challenged.

"I would think you know me well enough to understand that it doesn't."

"Well, at least you managed to drag yourself away from your little vacation to spend some time with me before I'm forcibly removed from the wizarding world. Thanks, Hermione, your kindness is staggering. We all know there's nothing you love more than a lost cause."

"It won't come to that," Hermione said, wishing she felt as confident as her words. But Harry wasn't listening.

"It's a shame really that I'll be carted out without time for goodbyes. I would have liked to thank Viktor for his help. Help that my so-called friends couldn't be bothered to give."

Hermione allowed herself a heavy blink before she looked into Harry's angry face. "He's here actually… Viktor, I mean, if you wanted to speak to him."

"...What?"

"...What the bloody hell?"

Hermione tried to tell herself that loud voices, however angry, were better than silence. She didn't believe herself, but she tried. "Viktor, he came back with us. When I heard about Harry's news, he offered to come."

"Why is he here?" Ron shouted as Harry began some other rant that Hermione couldn't quite hear, though she thought she made out some disparaging remarks about an 'extended vacation'.

She gripped her knees and sighed inwardly. This wasn't helping. The trouble with battles is that you can't fight them on all fronts. If she had believed that Harry just needed to get it all out of his system, Hermione would have sat herself down and weathered whatever he had to say, but her friend didn't operate like that. He was mad, but most of all he was disappointed, and he would need time before he got over it - time she was happy to give him.

Ron was still shouting at her, apparently having no idea that she had tuned out a while ago and Hermione decided that the best option open to her was to stick a pin in the current situation and revisit it when she could speak to the boys one on one.

"I'm going to unpack and sort myself out before dinner. I will see you then," she offered as if they hadn't just descended into shouting at each other, and she left the room without looking back.

Viktor managed to smile and nod in what he hoped were all the right places as Mr Lupin, the former professor, showed him around the room he would be staying in. It didn't take long. The cramped quarters were more akin to what he had endured on the boat rather than the comforts of home, and he could only imagine his mother's horrified reaction if she were to see it, but at least they had configured a way for him to avoid sharing. He knew Hermione was sharing a room with her two friends and that she enjoyed doing so; as such, he had feared not being alone. Viktor had always believed that the enjoyment of sharing your personal space diminished rather rapidly when you did not know the person who was about to infringe upon it.

Mr Lupin asked a few of the usual questions Viktor had come to expect when he first met anyone, and he answered as he would normally, slipping back into his public persona, giving his answers automatically and not elaborating unless it was unavoidable.

Slowly, Viktor detected that the former professor was skirting around, wanting to ask about his relationship with Hermione. As Viktor realised that the information would probably filter to the rest of the interested parties in the house, he decided to let Mr Lupin know in clear terms that he fully intended to return home in a couple of days and that his sole reason for tagging along had been to ensure Hermione's safe return and comfort. Though he purposely didn't look at any of the crumbling furnishings around him when he mentioned comfort.

Mr Lupin seemed satisfied, and Viktor was relieved to have some of the first interactions of his stay over with. He assumed - even from their short meeting - that he would not have got off as lightly if Mr Black had been the one to show him around though he did not doubt that a conversation would crop up at some point.

Meeting Sirius Black had made Viktor glad of his ample press experience for the first time. Up to that point, their host was a man he had only known from the wanted pictures that had terrified him a year or so before. Viktor had seen darkness growing up, and his father had taken great pains so that he would be able to recognise it even in those that tried to hide it. Despite the fancy clothes and the nice-ish manner he presented, Sirius was very much someone that had that untempered rage lurking within. Thankfully, Hermione had filled him in on the leading players as much as she was able, but Viktor intended to remain cautious. He hadn't survived seven years of schooling amongst the sons of blood purists and thugs by applying his faith blindly.

After packing away the small number of possessions he had arranged to bring with him, Viktor left his room, resolved that he couldn't hide in there forever. He was eternally grateful for Hermione's belief and support, but he wouldn't hide behind her, he came to make her life smoother - if that was in his power - not the other way around.

As he walked out onto the landing, he could easily hear Harry's raised voice, though the exact words were not clear. Viktor imagined he could probably guess at most of what was being said. A moment later, a door opened above, and Viktor looked up the next set of stairs in time to see Hermione dart out, with Weasley in hot pursuit.

Viktor debated following Hermione but decided against it. He had known that Weasley was hardly likely to take the news of his arrival well and he seemed to be the type of character that was unable to carry on without venting his frustrations; it was probably best to let him do so now rather than at a less opportune moment. Though Viktor didn't relish leaving Hermione to handle the situation by herself, he knew his appearance would likely make it worse. The inevitability of him telling the younger boy to go fuck himself was likely to make people more hostile towards his stay.

He stood on the stairs for a moment before deciding he should try and speak to Harry while there was a chance they could converse alone, and he didn't wait for an answer to his quick knock before he walked into a room just as dingy as his own.

Viktor covered the small floor space quickly and sat onto a bed opposite Potter. The younger boy had been looking at the doorway when he came in - in the direction his friends had left in - but once he was inside Harry had quickly refocused his attention on the bricked up window on the outer wall.

"Hi," Harry offered awkwardly.

"Hi," he returned. Viktor knew he would have to pick up the mantle to begin the conversation but he wasn't particularly adept at discussing feelings, his or anyone else's, especially while doing so not in his native tongue. "Are you well?"

"Not really no," Harry replied with a sigh, and he rubbed a hand over his face.

"Did you want to talk about it?"

Harry shook his head, and Viktor hated that he was relieved.

"Thanks for the parcels and stuff, that was decent of you," Harry said.

Viktor shrugged. "It was what Hermione would have done if she could."

Harry snorted, it was an angry, disbelieving sound and Viktor instantly wanted to defend Hermione, but he knew enough to tread carefully. Potter had seen him when he was gripped in his rage - when he had been stunned and then accused - and Harry had been kind enough to give him the space he needed. Viktor would try to do the same.

"She did what she thought was right."

Harry shook his head as he shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe, I know that you… you like her and... stuff… but this is between Hermione and me, okay."

Viktor nodded. "I only wanted to remind you that she is your friend. The moment she found out about what happened she wanted to leave immediately, she looked more shocked than when I had the head of a shark."

Harry laughed in spite of himself, though he almost looked annoyed for not being able to hold onto his mood. "Why did you do that, the partial transfiguration? I never got a chance to ask."

Viktor stretched out his legs. "I thought it looked cool."

Harry smiled for the first time since Viktor had entered the room. "It did," he replied, "it really did."