'Bulgaria sounds beautiful,' Hermione said as she and Viktor walked out of sight of the Fat Lady's portrait and then turned into an abandoned classroom. It had no portraits, and according to Viktor's quick charm, there were no other forms of life there.

Hermione had caught Rita Skeeter while she was in the Hospital Wing, and she was currently trapped in her bug form in the fourth-year girls' dormitory. Harry had told her about Professor Dumbledore's plans with the lawyer; perhaps, from that, it would have been more prudent to let her go, but nobody knew how long it would take for the restriction to come through — or what she would overhear in the meantime.

Still, if there was one thing the woman had taught her, it was that one could never be certain they weren't being observed.

For this conversation, she wanted as much privacy as she could get in a school that was known for cognisant portraits, nosy students, and secret passageways.

'It is very beautiful. Every country has its charms, but Bulgaria...'

'And I would love to see all the things you've told me about, and to get to know your parents better.' She'd met his parents before the third task, and they'd lived up to his description of them. The idea of a summer spent exploring Sofia and its surrounds in their company was enticing.

Comprehension flashed across his features. 'But you will not be visiting this holiday.'

Relieved that he had worked it out on his own, Hermione nodded. 'I'm sorry. I want to, but now that You-Know-Who is back, I have to stay.'

They usually didn't see much of one another over the school holidays; his aunt and uncle didn't permit it. But with He Who Must Not Be Named on the loose, that would have to change.

Harry was too exposed in the Muggle world. Anyone who was trying to find him would start with known family first, and it wasn't as if he'd kept his aunt and uncle's names and general hometown a secret. With enough time, they would be sure to find him. When they did, the Dursleys would have no way of fighting back.

'I do not understand,' he said, frowning. 'I was thinking it would give you more reason to come, not less. It will be dangerous here, doubly so for you as a Muggle-born and a friend to Harry. In Sofia, my parents could keep your family safe. Only close friends know our address, and the house is protected. Nobody would find you.'

Hermione watched him for a second, feeling slightly awed. She had never been the sort to run away from her problems, but a war was brewing on the horizon. It was bigger than anything she'd ever faced before, and it terrified her. Even though she would never accept it, the offer of a place to hide out until the danger was over was appealing.

'I appreciate that more than you know, but it isn't about me. He isn't going to stop until he's dead or Harry is.'

'He could come. All of your friends could.'

'Harry's aunt and uncle would never let him, and I don't think Mr and Mrs Weasley would be able to leave England.' More precisely, she knew they couldn't afford a full-family holiday, and she didn't think they would accept assistance in paying for it.

Nevertheless, it was a generous offer. While Viktor had grown close to both Ron and Ginny over the past few months, going as far as to tell the latter that she had the potential to play Quidditch professionally if she honed her skill, housing ten or eleven people for an indefinite period of time was a tall ask.

'I should have known. You are a team; teammates do not abandon each other. But if it becomes too much, will you tell me?'

She didn't see that happening, but if it did… 'Of course.'

They stood there in silence for a few seconds, then Viktor sighed. 'I do not like to leave you to this. It feels as if there should be more I can do.'

'Maybe there will be eventually.'

'From afar?'

Hermione let out a slow breath. She didn't like that he was leaving, either.

When Viktor first asked her to the Yule Ball, she hadn't imagined that he would want them to last long-term, let alone that they actually might. Since she'd assumed it would be nice but short-lived, the fact that he lived overseas and travelled constantly for work had never even registered as an obstacle.

It was different now. She really fancied him; moreover, she liked him. He was a good listener, and while he was taciturn in large groups, he was fascinating when he opened up to the people he trusted. Even Ron, who had originally been intimidated and then put off by Viktor's fame, had warmed up to him over the past few months.

'I think we should break up,' she said, hating the words even as she said them. But it was the right move, at least for now. 'We won't see each other again for at least a year, if not longer… I don't think that's fair on either of us. Maybe one day, when I've finished school, but...'

She'd expected Viktor to be shocked, but he just looked resigned. 'I know. But we can still write to each other. Often; not just one owl and never again.'

'You won't know what to do with all the letters I send you,' she said with a watery smile.

'Kindling?' he suggested.

Hermione laughed.

If they stayed together now, there was a high chance that it wouldn't last. She knew how hyper-focused she could get on school, and there would be so much that she wouldn't be able to talk to him about.

But one day, she hoped, they would find their way back together again.

In the meantime, if they could remain friends, that would have to be enough.

-x-

As the Beauxbatons carriage left the highlands of Scotland, Olympe retired to her compartment. Since the end of the third task, all any of her students had been able to talk about was the return of He Who Must Not Be Named.

Fortunately, they'd tired themselves out recently. Shortly after they'd boarded the carriage, they'd settled into playing word games for the first leg of the trip. She would still have to do rounds to check that everything was under control, but for now, the prefects were making sure that everyone was safe.

Leaving was bittersweet. She had never liked the United Kingdom, finding it bland and dull in comparison to her homeland. But with every metre the carriage travelled, her last day as the headmistress of Beauxbatons was drawing nearer.

She had never meant to put Fleur in harm's way.

Ever since she was a child, her classmates had treated her differently because of her size, mocking her whenever their professors' backs were turned. She'd tried telling them that she just had big bones, but nobody had believed her.

Even as she aged, it had never stopped; it had just gone underground. Harsh taunts had become sly remarks, and outright exclusion had turned into casual dismissals.

But Olympe had worked hard, and over time, she'd proven them all wrong. She was the first half-giant Beauxbatons had ever employed as a professor, let alone as a headmistress.

As proud as she was of herself, however, that only put her in a position where she received greater scrutiny. Whenever she favoured a person from a minority group in any way, the board of governors immediately started questioning whether it was out of bias.

Terrified of undermining her credibility, Olympe had done her best to be blind to whether or not students had creature blood. No one received special treatment, no matter what the reason; she was fair to the point of strictness.

Over time, even her worst detractors had fallen silent. She'd known they were still there, lying in wait for her to mess up, but they hadn't had anything to complain about, so they had burnt themselves out.

But in trying not to favour particular people, it seemed like she had gone too far in the opposite direction.

A truly unbiased headmistress would never have let a part-Veela participate in the second task, let alone be the hostage for it. She would have insisted that it take place on land instead — anywhere where the four champions would have an equal playing field.

Instead, she'd stayed quiet, knowing that people would have claimed she was favouring Fleur otherwise. And in doing so, she'd endangered the lives of both Fleur and Gabrielle.
How had she failed so utterly? When she'd decided to go into teaching, she'd wanted to make a change in the lives of the next generation. All she'd ended up doing was perpetuating the same old prejudices.

It was no wonder that the Delacours had campaigned to have her fired.

In a way, it might even be a blessing. Perhaps what she needed was a change of pace. Before they'd left Hogwarts, Albus asked her to participate in an important undercover mission; that might be just the thing she needed right now.

Even so, it hurt to have failed not only so completely but so publicly. Everything Olympe had worked towards had gone up in smoke, leaving her to scour the ashes for something worth rebuilding.

But she couldn't remain tucked away in her compartment forever. After having a sip of water, she stood and started to walk the corridors.

Her time as headmistress was rapidly drawing to a close. She might as well make the most of the little time she had left there.

A/N: One more chapter to go