A/N: Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback on my first chapter! I was very nervous about handling this pairing and this genre, and I'm glad it's going over well even with those of you who normally sail other ships. Thanks for giving this one a chance!
Canon Note: It has been brought to my attention that while the language-based theory on Durmstrang's location/origin is sound, Viktor's description in the book of the grounds (quoted verbatim in Chapter One) suggests that Durmstrang is much further north than Germany. So while I am holding to the theory that it was at least founded by Germans and therefore German is its official language, the school is probably somewhere much further north.
Special Announcement: Those of you who patronize the Online Wizarding Library (OWL, at owl dot tauri dot org) are reminded to nominate stories between now and January 15th for the 2005 OWL Awards. Voting will begin shortly thereafter, and uh...all my fics are on that site, in case you're wondering. (Wink!)
Chapter Two: Falling
Soon after the Second Task came Rita Skeeter's latest piece of fiction. The whole thing would have been funny—even the hate mail—since Hermione was able to laugh at it, and once Viktor saw her reaction, he laughed it off too. But the envelopes full of curses and Potions, that tore it. And even if Hermione could have forgiven Rita Skeeter for the boils, Harry had it even worse than she did.
"As if he hasn't got enough to worry about," she fumed to Viktor. "I've been trying to figure out how she overheard you at the Second Task, and Moody says she wouldn't be using an Invisibility Cloak; he'd have seen her."
"Invisibility Cloaks are very rare," Viktor said.
"Harry's got one," Hermione replied, shoving her Potions book away. "His father left it to him."
"Perhaps he should haff used it in the First Task," Viktor muttered.
"He wouldn't want to risk it that way, and we didn't think it'd work," she said absently. "Flying's his best strength anyway."
"Mm."
She later found out that Viktor hadn't been as persuaded by her assurances of the lack of relationship with Harry as she'd thought. Shortly after the article appeared, Viktor actually hauled Harry into the Forbidden Forest to ask him about Hermione. And very nearly got himself killed doing it.
"Why couldn't you have asked me?" she demanded as soon as she caught him alone. "Do you not trust me?"
Fortunately, Viktor did look a bit ashamed of himself. "I do," he insisted. "I vas…I vondered if Harry vas as sure as you."
"We're friends, Viktor. Good friends, best friends, really. That's all."
"I know that," he said. "It is vhat Harry said also. And he vas not angry—but I vish ve had not separated vhen ve found Mr. Crouch."
He said that last bit with dry humor, and Hermione chuckled. "I should say it serves you right. If you had to talk to Harry alone, you should have done it somewhere a little less dangerous than the Forest."
"I vill remember that." They laughed, and the tension dissolved.
"I'm glad you weren't hurt," she said quietly. "Your friends didn't know what had happened; they thought it might have been serious."
"I vas only Stunned," Viktor said. "But I have no doubt that Karkaroff is saying I vas almost murdered. He leaves me alone now only vhen he is making demands of your Ministry. He says it vas to stop me in the Third Task."
Hermione sighed. "I think it's more likely that it was to stop you from witnessing whatever happened to Mr. Crouch. Something very nasty is going on here. I wish it would end. I wish the whole Tournament would end. There's too much danger around already without adding to it with some ruddy contest."
"It vill be ended soon," he said. They were sitting on a windowsill in one of the upstairs corridors, and Viktor glanced around. "Haff you…you did not say if you vould visit me this summer."
Hermione winced. "Oh, I didn't, did I?" She could tell Viktor was trying not to look too anxious; his dark eyes were flashing from her to the window and back again. "I…I'd love to." Viktor's eyes widened, and she grinned sheepishly. "I really would."
Viktor opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and he wound up just staring at her. It was strange how quiet the corridor was around them, as if every other person at Hogwarts was separated from this place by another dimension, and the only sound here was the breeze through the upper windows. But it was a comfortable sort of quiet. With every other boy she'd met, silences were awkward, spent with the mind racing for ways to fill them. Not so with Viktor. Or maybe it was just that his eyes had a way of making her forget to think about anything else.
She felt his hand on hers, and then…his other hand on her shoulder. Her heart started to pound; she might be a bit inexperienced, but she wasn't an idiot. It was obvious where this was going, and she wanted to, but…what if she was a bad kisser—
It didn't matter. He wasn't.
Unfortunately, they wound up being late for dinner, and either someone had seen them or it was somehow really obvious, because although they weren't holding hands or anything when they came in, all the Durmstrangs and Gryffindors (except Ron) started to snicker, the Slytherins looked appalled, and several of the Hogwarts professors hid grins.
"How do they know?" she muttered at him through the side of her mouth.
"Sven and Katya always know vhen someone has been…" Viktor shrugged. "Hogvarts may be the same."
"Oh well, it's not as if Rita Skeeter hasn't dreamed up worse. Do you want to come sit with me at the Gryffindor table?" Hermione suggested.
Viktor smiled and started to say "yes," but then Karkaroff appeared in front of them. Viktor rocked back on his heels, eyes darkening with displeasure, and actually took Hermione's hand. Ignoring his student's defensive posture, Karkaroff gave Hermione one of his cold smiles.
"Forgive me, my dear Miss Granger, I must have a word with my champion. Come along to our table," Karkaroff told Viktor, in a voice that brooked no argument.
Viktor looked ready to snap, but Hermione gave his arm a little squeeze and stepped away, shooting him a warning look. She did sympathize ("my champion," my foot!), but there was nothing to be gained by the two of them getting into a fight with Viktor's headmaster. Fortunately, Viktor relented and followed Karkaroff away. Hermione could hear Karkaroff talking to Viktor in German as they headed for the Durmstrang table, and the Durmstrang students nearest them were looking quite nervous.
"What's all that about?" Harry asked her as she sat down. (Ron was sulking.) "Has Karkaroff been reading Rita Skeeter?"
"Who knows," said Hermione, grabbing a meat pie with a scowl. "He seems to be afraid Viktor will let slip the school's location to me or something."
"Or something about his plans for the Third Task," Ron muttered.
"Viktor would no more do that than I would tell him about Harry's plans," Hermione said tightly. "We don't talk about the Tournament unless it's the Tasks already finished. He says you're a really good flier, by the way," she added, to Harry.
Harry blushed a little. "Yeah, he told me in the…Forest."
Hermione shoved her fork into her pie and pondered that conversation, wondering why Viktor would be worried about Harry. She liked Harry very much—loved him, in a way, but not anything like she felt about Viktor. Just now, he'd reminded her of Viktor, blushing or smiling shyly when he got a sincere compliment…on the other hand, he could be as melodramatic as Ron sometimes, albeit usually for better reasons. Viktor had many things about him that she, well, wanted in a boy—good common sense, a little confidence, work ethic, and the ability to carry on an intelligent conversation about something other than Quidditch. Ironic, really, considering his chosen profession. Maybe Viktor needed a mental break from Quidditch in ways that Quidditch fans would never consider. Harry might be more like Viktor when he got older; Harry was really very sweet most of the time. Ron, well…for the life of her, she couldn't imagine him growing up, but when he wasn't being a complete prat, it was kind of endearing.
Ginny suddenly hissed, and leaned past Colin Creevy and Lavender Brown. "Hermione!"
Then Hermione heard a raised voice. She looked up: Viktor and Karkaroff were at the front of the Slytherin table, and the other students had made a rather large space for them to sit. Karkaroff was getting very agitated, still talking to Viktor in German and getting progressively louder. Viktor was paying stubborn attention to the food he kept slapping onto his plate, but he seemed to be trying to murder it rather than eat it. Hermione could guess what he was imagining stabbing his fork into, and out of all the times she'd seen him glowering, this was by far the darkest scowl she'd seen on his face.
Apparently, Harry thought so too. "Krum's really angry."
That was enough to cause Ron's curiosity to win out, and he too looked surreptitiously at the Slytherin table. Karkaroff, as usual, was doing most of the talking; Viktor was hardly giving more than a one-word answer when Karkaroff paused for breath. The Durmstrang Headmaster seemed to be trying very hard to persuade Viktor of something, and Viktor was equally determined to ignore it.
Then they all saw Karkaroff gesture toward Hermione. He faltered when he realized the Gryffindors were watching him, and Viktor briefly looked up, meeting Hermione's eyes for a moment before saying something dismissive to Karkaroff and returning to the mutilation of his pie. One of the Beauxbatons boys went casually past that end of the Slytherin table, then sat down hurriedly with Fleur, whispering eagerly. Fleur then got up and came over to the Gryffindor table, ostensibly to ask if they had any escargot left (even though the bowl at the Ravenclaw table was still quite full).
Hermione tilted her head toward Fleur as the girl leaned past her to take the bowl. "Karkaroff is saying zat Viktor is being distracted by you. 'e says you are too close to 'arry and zat Viktor must concentrate on ze Third Task. 'e is talking of loyalty to zeir school."
Ron whistled softly, and Hermione gave Fleur a brief smile as the Beauxbatons girl returned to her table to ponder what to do with that juicy bit of gossip—and all their escargot. At the Durmstrang table, Viktor finally paused from goring his food and spoke very tersely to Karkaroff, his eyes hard and his jaw tight. It was clear to all that Viktor had no intention of letting Karkaroff persuade him of anything.
And Karkaroff was just as determined to keep trying. He resumed talking, more rapidly, now gesticulating furiously, but Viktor shoved a forkful of pie into his mouth and turned his face away. His empty hand was clenched into a tight fist. Hermione sat very still.
Finally, Karkaroff grabbed Viktor's arm and attempted speak nose-to-nose to his rebellious student, and Viktor slammed down his fork so hard that the dishes rattled. The Great Hall went dead silent. Viktor wrenched away, shouting a couple of words at Karkaroff that made the other Durmstrangs gasp. Then he stood up, snapped out a few more heated statements to his Headmaster, and stalked from the Great Hall, his movements stiff and eyes flashing with anger.
Karkaroff watched him go in astonishment, then turned an accusing gaze on Hermione, clearly of the opinion that this was all her fault. Hermione could feel the gaze of everyone else in the room on her as well.
The next day started badly and only got worse. It was the day of the Third Task, and began with Rita Skeeter's most disgustingly libelous article yet. Hermione hadn't been able to find Viktor after dinner, which bothered her because she knew he must be terribly upset.
Alexiev had told Alicia essentially what Fleur had already told Hermione: Karkaroff had never liked Viktor going out with Hermione and finally demanded that Viktor stay away from her, appealing most descriptively to everything from Viktor's school loyalty to his Quidditch team spirit to his work ethic to his sense of good competition strategy, and finally, to his blood pride. (Hermione hadn't even known Viktor was pureblood, not that she'd thought to ask.) That was reportedly when Viktor had told him to do the Bulgarian equivalent of "Shut up and sod off."
She did see Viktor in the Great Hall at breakfast, ignoring Karkaroff, and Karkaroff ignoring him. But the buzz that Skeeter's article about Harry was creating had her incredibly worried, and when she finally got to thinking that maybe "bugging" might literally be what Rita was up to, she knew she couldn't wait to confirm her theory. Who only knew the damage that might be done if Rita heard about Viktor's fight with Karkaroff about Hermione, or if she came up with something even worse to say about Harry.
She caught up with Harry and the Weasleys later—only to find out that Mrs. Weasley had halfway believed what that Skeeter creature had written about her. It made her want to scream. Fortunately, Harry saved her the trouble of having to explain yet again.
There was so much going on that Hermione couldn't find Viktor all morning, and worried that he'd decided she wasn't worth all the uproar after all. But after lunch, while Harry and the Weasleys were walking the grounds, Viktor appeared in the library.
Hermione, surrounded by books about Animagi, froze at the sight of him. He looked cross. She held her breath as he approached. "My parents are here," he said. "Vill you come to meet them?"
She got up so fast that her chair fell over, but as Viktor was helping her right it, she whispered, "Are you all right? I saw Karkaroff—"
"I do not care vhat he thinks," Viktor snapped. Then he sighed and suddenly looked tired. "I vill do what I vant and see who I vant." He took her arms as if about to kiss her or crush her against him, then paused, blushing, and Hermione smiled.
"Good," she said softly. Viktor glanced around to make sure no one could see them, then kissed her, softly and quickly, before taking her hand to lead her back upstairs. Not that anyone who saw them could doubt what they'd been up to; they were both blushing now.
Viktor's mother, Hermione had learned, was from a very old European wizard family who were almost equal to the Malfoys in wealth and status, and his father was a very respected wizard in Bulgaria as well. She suddenly remembered that one of Karkaroff's objections was her own Muggle blood, and got very nervous.
But although neither of Viktor's parents spoke English as well as he, they were very warm to her, and it was clear that if their son was happy, that was enough for them. "Viktor asked you for a visit to us, yes?" his mother asked.
"Yes," Hermione said shyly.
"You are velcome in the summer," Mr. Krum said, and Hermione saw Viktor relaxing as well.
"Thank you for having me," she told them, and grinned past them at Viktor.
"You are friend of Harry Potter, Her-my-oh-nee?" his mother went on. (Hermione saw Viktor mouthing the syllables again to himself out of the corner of her eye.) A little warily, Hermione nodded, but Mrs. Krum said, "He is a brave boy. Very brave, very young. Viktor says he flies very vell."
"All the champions are brave," Hermione said. "The Tasks are very hard. I'll be glad when it's over."
Viktor and his father laughed, but his mother nodded in fervent agreement. "I am afraid vhen I hear vhat they must do. I vish luck for all of them."
"Vill you eat dinner vith us?" Mr. Krum asked, but Viktor shook his head.
"She vill support Harry in the Tournament. She cannot sit vith me before his Task. It is disloyalty." Hermione was startled, but saw a twinkle in his dark eyes and slyness to his smile as though he were winking at her. She grinned.
"That's another reason I'll be glad when it's over. Then we can say that everyone did well and sit at different tables without worrying about who's supporting who in the Tournament."
"Ve vill see you after, then," said Mrs. Krum as they reached the Great Hall.
They went through ahead of Hermione, and she caught Viktor's arm, knowing people could see but wanting to speak to him once more before the Third Task. "Good luck anyway," she whispered.
Viktor smiled, obviously more nervous about the Task than he was letting on. "Thank you." He grinned over his shoulder at her as he made for his table, and she for hers, and Hermione no longer cared if people were staring. She felt as if there were a warm glow around her.
"So you've met his parents," Ginny teased as she sat down. "Things are looking up! Why didn't you sit with them?"
"Because I'm supporting Harry in the Third Task," she replied, shooting Ron a challenging look. Mrs. Weasley and Bill looked approving. "Viktor knows it; he doesn't mind. Loyalty to my best friends comes first."
Harry grinned sheepishly. "Thanks. I like Krum, actually," he told Mrs. Weasley and Bill. "Hope he does well. I bet he will."
"I told him I'll just be glad when it's over," Hermione sighed theatrically. "No more planning how to get you through the next Task without you getting burned or slashed or drowned."
"And no more of Amos tearing around the Ministry bragging about Cedric or ranting about H—" Mrs. Weasley broke off, but Harry shrugged.
"Doesn't matter. I should've thought to say something about Cedric to the reporters. Only fair."
"Think they'd have listened?" Ron said doubtfully.
Harry snorted. "Probably not. But I'd have tried."
Mrs. Weasley waved a hand dismissively and lowered her voice. "Amos has always been silly about Cedric; I can't really blame him, I suppose. Arthur's the same sometimes."
"Oh, and you never get silly about us, Mum," Ginny drawled.
"Me? Never!" Mrs. Weasley said, and they all laughed. "Arthur is coming, by the way, Harry. He worked a little late so Amos could have the day off to spend it here with Cedric—perhaps I'd better remind Amos of that if he starts up again!" she added. "He may not make it before you and the other champions have to get ready, but he'll be with us when you're back."
Hermione felt a lump in her throat at Harry's look of bewildered pleasure. He'd never had a family to cheer him on at anything before. Then Dumbledore announced that they had five minutes before heading for the stands to watch the Third Task, and called the champions out. She applauded very hard, along with the Weasleys and the other Gryffindors, when Harry got up and waved goodbye.
For the rest of her life, Hermione would always be wary of moments when she felt great anticipation for happiness and excitement. She would always feel a terrible fear that all the anticipation and excitement would be lost when something would suddenly go horribly wrong. She would never feel safe again expecting an experience to end in nothing but honest, innocent pleasure, laughter, and celebration.
Because, that was what she felt when piling into the stands with the Weasleys, only a few rows from the very front. The Hogwarts Music Society was playing a marching tune as the rest of the students and guests and judges and reporters gathered, dancing, cheering and chanting encouragement for their favorites, waving to each other in good-natured rivalry. Everyone was a little tired of being tense, she reasoned, and this was the end: there was no more "fraternizing with the enemy" to worry about, no accusations of sabotage or other nonsense, and all three schools seemed finally content to enjoy the real spirit of the Tournament.
Katya and Alexiev were shouting gleeful taunts at Alicia, and waved cheerfully at Hermione. (Katya shouted a taunt about Hermione's champion being the shortest, but Hermione just laughed—anyway, it happened to be true. Harry was smaller even than Fleur.) The twins were taking bets, as usual, but trying to do it out of sight of Mrs. Weasley, and then Mr. Weasley came scrambling down the steps to join them, out of breath.
"Have they started yet?"
"No, they're not even out front yet," said Ron, gesturing to the open space leading into the maze where the champions would take off.
"Whew!" Mr. Weasley pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his brow before taking in the rest of the chaos. "Ah, there's Helen," he said, pointing to Mrs. Diggory. "Where on Earth is Amos?"
"Probably still with Cedric," a seventh-year Hufflepuff told them. "The champions can have one family member with them, Mr. Bagman said."
"Oh no!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley. "One of us should have gone with Harry!"
"Oh well, nothing to be done now. Not to worry, we'll shower him with praise when it's over," Mr. Weasley assured her.
Mrs. Krum had spotted Mrs. Diggory just over one of the barriers between sections of the stands, and the two women were now talking like old friends. From Cedric's mother's expression, Hermione had a feeling she was just as nervous as Viktor's mother. Karkaroff was sitting in the stands next to Snape, looking disgruntled. Hermione quashed a wicked impulse to wave at him, and waved at Mrs. Krum instead, who spotted her and smiled.
Then the champions came out, and everyone went crazy. Hermione screamed so hard for Harry that her voice broke, and the Weasleys also made as much noise as they could. Harry did look very small compared to the other champions, but Hermione was relieved to see that he wasn't standing alone; Dumbledore was with him. But then Viktor's words about Dumbledore's use of Harry echoed in the back of her mind, and she shivered.
Ron patted her back. "He'll be fine. He's tougher than anybody thinks; we've all seen that."
"And after this, they'll all be done," she laughed. "I want Harry to win, but I don't think he'll feel that bad if he doesn't. Especially if Cedric wins."
"Oh, so you don't want Vicky as second choice?"
"Ronald," she growled, but Ron relented and pointed again.
"Think Mr. Diggory'll let go of Cedric before they start?" Amos Diggory couldn't seem to stop raising Cedric's arm to work up the crowd. Cedric looked a little sheepish, but let his dad carry on. At one point, Mr. Diggory shot a resentful look at Harry, and Cedric whispered sharply in his ear. Mr. Diggory blinked, but Cedric emphatically repeated what he'd said, and then Hermione felt a rush of warmth for Cedric as his father, looking chagrinned, mouthed what was unmistakably "good luck" to a startled Harry.
"Good show, Cedric!" said Mr. Weasley.
"Right-o," said one of the twins, and then they both cupped their hands and bellowed, "GOOD LUCK, CEDRIC!" When Cedric turned to look at them, they added, "Hope you come in a close second!"
Mrs. Weasley cuffed both of them, but Cedric laughed and shook his fist at them. Fleur had Gabrielle with her at the start, and the two of them were waving up at their parents. Viktor was with his father, and Hermione leaned forward and mouthed "good luck" to him. He smiled and gave her a little wave.
The band died down, Dumbledore patted Harry and went to announce the start of the Third Task. Mrs. Weasley hugged Hermione in excitement, and she found herself giggling. Dumbledore was still giving instructions to the four champions when Filch set off the starting cannon early, and everyone burst out laughing. Even the champions chuckled nervously, and a rather sardonic Dumbledore sent them to the start. Gabrielle was peering into the maze with wide eyes, and Fleur was patting her reassuringly, Mr. Diggory enveloped Cedric in a bear hug, and Mr. Krum squeezed Viktor's shoulder before letting him go. Hermione was glad to see Professor Moody walking with Harry to his entrance.
All too quickly, the champions vanished into the maze, and the hedge closed up behind them. Madame Maxime escorted an apprehensive Gabrielle back up to her parents, and Amos Diggory ran up to join Mr. Weasley.
"Arthur! Glad you could make it!"
"We were afraid they were going to have to do an Unsticking Charm on you for Cedric to get into that maze, Amos!" Mr. Weasley laughed.
"Very funny," said Mr. Diggory, cuffing him. "You'd be the same if one of your boys was down there!"
"One of them is," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. Mr. Diggory looked startled, then shrugged sheepishly.
"Nice of you to come out for him. I'd better get back to Helen before she bites off the tips of her fingers."
"See you later, Amos!"
Professor Moody led a group of security wizards into the maze, and time began to drag by. "How long do you think it'll take one of them to find the Cup?" Ginny asked. At the top of the stands, people were on their toes, trying to see over the hedges as Moody returned awhile later to tell Dumbledore the patrols were all in position on the maze's edge.
"No way to know. The judges don't look worried," said Mr. Weasley. "Professor Moody placed the Cup—and he looks downright smug."
"Lord," groaned Ron. "Moody placed it; we'll be here all night!"
Dumbledore and Madame Maxime were sharing a flask of…something, and chatting with Ludo Bagman and Minister Fudge. Karkaroff was still sulking in the stands, and Snape was talking to Mr. and Mrs. Krum.
After another long stretch of waiting, while the people in the stands came up with sillier and sillier ways to distract themselves from the mounting tension, a cry went up from the upper seats. People began to point, and Hermione saw red sparks above the maze.
"Someone's out!" yelled Lee Jordan, and everyone was on their feet, staring as if they could figure out from the sparks alone which of the champions had given up.
Moody opened the hedge, shouted something at the security wizards, and they ran into the maze. Hermione watched with the others, practically hopping up and down with anxiety, then there was another shout from someone above them—and gasps of alarm. "What's going on? What do you see?" Bill shouted.
"They've got someone on a stretcher!"
Everyone leaned forward at that, and a few moments later, the patrolling wizards came out of the maze hovering a motionless form upon a stretcher between them, and the shadows of the hedges fell away, letting the light fall upon…
"Viktor!" Hermione cried, along with half of Hogwarts and Beauxbatons and the entire Durmstrang contingent. "Oh my god!"
Without thinking, she began shoving her way down the steps, and it was only when she reached the lowest level that she heard Dumbledore and Moody bellowing to keep the crowd under control. She spotted one section being opened to the ground and started for it, but the security wizards were fighting to hold everyone back, and Mr. and Mrs. Krum were also trying to get down. So, despite her heart being in her throat, she stopped and leaned over the section barrier, holding out her hand to help usher them down.
"Let his parents through!"
The Hogwarts and Beauxbatons students settled down, but the Durmstrangs were still pushing forward in alarm, and the security wizards were having trouble keeping them from storming into the clearing. Mr. Krum said something to his wife, and let her slip through the very small space the security wizards were able make for her. Mr. Krum anxiously tried to see past Viktor's frantic classmates, then saw Hermione, who was looking over the last barricade down at the crowd huddled in the clearing.
"Vhat do you see?"
Sven Poliakoff pushed through the crowd to stand beside Mr. Krum and started translating for Hermione. "He's unconscious. Madam Pomfrey's looking at him…she doesn't seem worried. I can't hear—now they're looking at his wand—maybe a spell backfired or something, I don't know. His mother's with him, Madam Pomfrey's talking to her—she's…she looks relieved. I think he's all right."
Moody had Viktor's wand and was muttering to Dumbledore, both of them frowning. Mrs. Krum had Viktor's head in her lap, as Madam Pomfrey went to speak to Dumbledore. Then she returned and performed a spell on Viktor. It looked like Ennervate.
Viktor jerked into a sitting position with a shout, thrashing in complete panic, which set the crowd off again, and everyone began yelling at once. His mother grabbed for him, and he began babbling frantically in Bulgarian at her; it was clear that even she had no idea what he was talking about. The Durmstrangs nearest them in the stands were looking at each other in confusion.
Viktor scrambled to his feet, saw Moody, and began talking rapidly to him as well, but he was so rattled that he'd lost his English and wasn't much sense in Bulgarian either. "Calm down, son!" Hermione heard Moody saying as he grabbed Viktor's shoulders. "Calm DOWN! Get Karkaroff down here; my Bulgarian's not good."
"Igor, hurry up!" Snape shouted to where Karkaroff was hovering in the stands with the rest of the Durmstrang students, and they began making a path for him. Mr. Krum got down first, but his son only shook his head, gesturing to his wand in Dumbledore's hand and trying frantically to say something to the judges.
A few of the Ministry wizards were clustered around Dumbledore with grim faces, looking at the wand. Viktor glanced in Hermione's direction, and she was shaken to see that he was almost in tears.
Just then there were more shouts from within the maze, another entrance opened, and several patrol wizards came running out with Fleur among them. She was awake, but very upset. Madame Maxine rushed forward, and Fleur grabbed her, talking rapidly in French between furious sobs. One of the Hogwarts boys near Hermione was leaning over the edge of the stands, listening to them. "She's saying…someone Stunned her! A wizard in the maze…from behind!"
"The patrols are saying that wasn't any part of the Task. One of the other champions must've done it."
"They're sending the patrols back into the maze to find Potter and Diggory."
"I heard Moody say they'll all be transported back here if someone takes the Cup."
"But isn't attacking the other champions illegal?"
"Blimey, wonder if that's why they're on about Krum's wand!"
Hermione sucked in her breath and turned back toward Viktor, who was staring in shock at Fleur while confused patrols and judges ran back and forth. Snape had been knocked down while descending the last of the stairs and was looking fiercely at Dumbledore, clutching his left arm. Dumbledore's face had gone expressionless.
Meanwhile, Karkaroff seemed to have got himself lost coming down from the stands to translate for Viktor, and was nowhere in sight. Finally, Alexiev persuaded the security wizards and Snape to let him come down, and he grabbed Viktor by the shoulders, calming him down enough to talk. Dumbledore walked quickly over to them with the other judges, and Viktor was so distraught that he didn't even try to remember his English; he just let Alexiev translate for him.
The judges and Ministry wizards muttered amongst each other, but they and Viktor were too far away for anyone to decipher what they were saying. Then Hermione heard Prior Incantato, and several of the wizards hissed, but then fell silent again. Madame Maxime was watching, with her arms around Fleur, but a few moments later, the judges and Ministry wizards dispersed, and Dumbledore handed Viktor back his wand. Viktor squeezed his eyes closed and muttered something, but Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder, clearly consoling him. Then he turned to Fleur and Madame Maxime and shook his head.
"So it wasn't Viktor," Hermione breathed. Alexiev had an arm around him and was leading him back to his parents. Fleur's parents and a few of the Beauxbatons students had made it down from the stands and sat her down on the grass, rubbing her back and talking softly. One of the Beauxbatons girls went over to Alexiev, and they conferred for a few moments, then returned to their respective classmates looking even more confused.
Dumbledore strode across the clearing to Moody—who happened to be standing right below Hermione. Fudge followed. "Alastor, get Harry and Cedric back. Now."
"Dumbledore, you really think we should just—"
"Someone in that maze has attacked our two guest students, Cornelius. If it was Harry or Cedric, we must deal with that. If it was not one of them, then they are both in danger."
Moody nodded and began muttering an incantation, but abruptly stopped, grabbed Dumbledore by the arm, and whispered in his ear. Dumbledore's eyes widened, then closed, as if in terrible grief. "What now?" Moody hissed.
"We wait, and…hope for the best."
Ron pushed his way through the crowd to Hermione. "What's going on?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know," Hermione said. "Something's happened…Dumbledore told Moody to stop the Task and bring Harry and Cedric back, but he can't. They're still in there with whoever attacked Viktor and Fleur."
"They can't think one of those boys did that!" Mrs. Weasley gasped, coming to join them.
Bill peered past her. "I think Dumbledore and Moody know they wouldn't. So that means someone else did."
"That doesn't make me feel much better," Ron muttered.
Amos Diggory actually climbed over the barricade between the sections to talk with Mr. Weasley. Hermione could hear him saying, "Calm down, Amos, calm down. It's too soon to panic. Is Helen all right? Oh, good. No, no, it just sounds like one of Alastor's brilliant spell schemes has gone a bit wrong; the boys may have to walk all the way back here. Yes, I know—Amos, there are enough people down there already demanding answers; Dumbledore's sending more people in to find the boys. They'll be along. Sit down and don't panic."
"D'you think that's all it is?" Ron asked her nervously.
"I hope so," Hermione said.
Katya and Marcel, the Beauxbatons boy she'd gone to the Yule Ball with, came over to talk to Hermione. "Fleur was Stunned, and zey think Viktor was struck with ze Imperious Curse," Marcel whispered.
"He thinks he attacked someone in the maze," Katya added. "He cannot remember who. But he vas not the one who Stunned Fleur. They found the Cruciatus Curse in his vand."
Hermione gasped. "The Cruciatus…but if he didn't curse Fleur…lord, did he hit Harry or Cedric?"
"Shh!" Mrs. Weasley hissed, glancing in Mr. Diggory's direction. "They don't need to hear that."
"The maze vas full of illusions, Viktor and Fleur are saying," Katya said. "Perhaps one of the boys vas thinking they vere something else and tried to fight them?"
"If that's what happened, then it's not their fault," Ron said, encouraged.
Hermione glared into the clearing. "No, but if that's what happened, then Dumbledore better give Moody and whoever else designed this stupid Task what-for, because the champions were not supposed to end up hexing each other!"
Katya nodded. "Viktor feels terrible. It vas not his fault, but he is very upset."
Just then there was a hiss in the air, a brief gust of wind, and two figures, one wearing red and the other wearing yellow, burst into existence in the center of the clearing, landing in an unwieldy pile of arms and legs with the Triwizard Cup beside them. A spontaneous roar of relief and joy went up from everyone's throat, including Hermione's, and Dumbledore and the judges went rushing forward before either Harry or Cedric could get to his feet.
"Who got it?" Amos Diggory was yelling (along with half the crowd). "Who got the Cup?"
"They both arrived together!"
"I wish those ruddy judges would move! I want to see!"
"Bet it was Cedric!"
"Bet it was Harry!"
The band had started up again, and for a moment, it seemed that everything would be all right…
Then Fleur screamed. The people in the lowest part of the stands fell silent in alarm; no one could see through the crowd in the clearing, but she could. The band was still playing, but something was wrong, the wizards in the clearing were all grim-faced, looking at each other in shock…
"What the hell's going on?"
Snape looked over his shoulder and made a sharp motion at Flitwick; the band fell silent, and Hermione could hear the murmur of voices. People were realizing now that all was not well and starting to push forward again. Fudge went stumbling to one of the other wizards by the stands.
"Keep everyone in their seats. A boy's just been killed."
It was as if someone had pressed a thousand tons of weight onto Hermione's chest; she grabbed for the nearest person to hang onto, straining, searching… What's happened what's happened oh dear god no please no Harry what's happened…
Then she heard it over the solemn murmuring of the other wizards…sobbing. A boy's voice, wracked with sobs as he tried to talk. Hermione's vision lost focus, and Ron looked at her with more horror in his face than she'd ever seen.
Harry never cried, her reeling mind told her. Not even over things that would have had Hermione and even Ron sobbing like babies if they'd been in Harry's shoes; they both thought it was because of growing up with the Dursleys that taught him not to cry…
Harry doesn't cry.
But the boy down there was crying…
No. NO…
"I couldn' leave 'im there…" the boy was sobbing. "I couldn' leave him in that place!"
Mr. Diggory and Mr. Weasley were rushing down the stairs in panic. "Let me through!" Mr. Diggory was shouting. "Let me through!"
Mrs. Weasley was clinging to Hermione so tight she could barely breathe, and Bill was holding Ron. Hermione saw Fleur, kneeling on the grass, weeping into Madame Maxine's chest, and Viktor, looking at…her. His expression was stunned, and his eyes were red…he had seen who it was…
Harry…
No…
Then Mr. Diggory screamed, and Hermione and Mrs. Weasley clutched each other convulsively, as they all learned the truth from Amos Diggory himself. "My boy! That's my boy!"
The knot of huddled figures finally parted, and Hermione felt Mrs. Weasley begin to sob. She wasn't even aware that she herself was crying.
Harry was alive. But there was no room in any of their hearts for real joy or relief in that fact, only dazed, numb acknowledgement as they saw Amos Diggory collapsed upon Cedric, wailing. Mr. Weasley was trying to pull Mr. Diggory back, and Harry was sobbing so hard his whole body was shaking. Moody was trying to pull him back, whispering to him, but Harry was fighting, reaching out for Cedric. For his body. Oh no, oh Cedric… Cedric was dead. Moody finally had to drag Harry away, and Harry struggled with every step.
Mr. Weasley had finally pulled Amos Diggory away from his son's body, and Madam Pomfrey was gently bending over him—oh god. Hermione turned away to keep from being sick. This wasn't real…this couldn't be… Mrs. Weasley released her with one more squeezed and choked out, "I must get to Helen." She stumbled off up the stands.
Viktor was slack-faced, his tears glistening in the torchlight, and his parents were clutching him between them as though they feared he would disappear if they let go. Fleur's mother was holding Gabrielle to her, keeping the little girl's face turned away from the scene, and Mr. Delacour had Fleur in his arms, tears sliding down his face as he watched Mr. Diggory. Viktor's father released him to Mrs. Krum and walked over to Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory, while Mrs. Krum steered Viktor gently out of the clearing.
Hermione mumbled to Ron and Bill, "We should go…find Harry. He must be…"
Ron shook his head, still in Bill's arms. "Yeah. He looked hurt."
"We'll get Ginny back to the school," said one of the twins, and they walked a dazed-looking Ginny toward the exit.
Hermione blundered against the barrier in the stands, glanced across it to the next section, and a teary-eyed Katya looked back at her. Impulsively, Hermione reached across and grasped her hand. Sven and Marcel were on either side of Katya, staring down at the clearing. Ron went a few steps further up the stands to two Hufflepuff boys he recognized as friends of Cedric, both of whom seemed to be in complete shock.
The initial chaos and hysteria had worn off, and now people were moving more slowly as a fog of disbelief settled over them. No mind could comprehend it, how so much laughter and joy and excitement had shattered into so much horror and grief and pain in so short a time. The sound of quiet sobbing was everywhere. Hermione too was still crying softly; it seemed natural at the moment, like breathing, and it did not seem ready to stop, not that she really noticed.
"Who vould do such a thing?" Sven whispered.
"I don't know," Hermione murmured.
Katya wiped her face. "Is Harry Potter badly hurt?"
Hermione shook her head. "I'm not sure. I have to go find out; are you going to go see Viktor?" Katya and Sven nodded. "I have to find Harry, but tell him…tell him I'll be there soon, if he wants…"
"He vill vant to see you," Sven said firmly. "He vill understand. I hope that Harry is all right."
Hermione fought back another wrenching sob that tried to force its way out of her chest. "Me too," she said, and hurried up the steps.
A few hours later, when Hermione and the Weasleys had learned the horrific facts of what had happened, she nearly smashed Rita Skeeter with her bare hands. She caught Skeeter on the hospital wing windowsill, buzzing around like the parasitic insect she was; no doubt planning her next slanderous, unashamedly hurtful article for the Daily Prophet. Well, if Hermione could do nothing else for Harry and the other stricken champions…and Cedric…she'd make certain that kind of article would never escape Rita's quill.
It had been Moody—or rather, the man who was posing as Moody all year long. Barty Crouch, Jr., as it turned out. He'd dragged the stunned, wounded Harry back to the castle on the pretense of looking after him, but intended to finish what Voldemort had started in a graveyard in Little Hangleton.
Voldemort. The Triwizard Cup had been made into a portkey, and Moody—or rather, Crouch—had gone into the maze to take out the other three champions so Harry would reach it first. It was he who had Stunned Fleur, and used the Imperious on Viktor to make him attack Cedric. But Cedric had been saved by Harry, and the two of them had wound up reaching the Cup at the exact same time.
Harry's leg had been injured by an Engorged spider, and Cedric could have got to the Cup first, but he'd refused to take it, because of all Harry had done for him (the spider would have taken Cedric out, but for Harry's intervention.) But Harry too had refused, and finally suggested that they both take it together.
Cedric, poor, sweet, handsome, innocent Cedric, had been of no use to Voldemort. A "spare," he had been called, according to Harry. Peter Pettigrew had killed him without a thought. Then he'd trapped Harry against the tomb of Voldemort's father, and used Harry's blood to resurrect Voldemort. Harry had managed to escape during a duel in which Voldemort had intended to kill him—the circumstances were still fuzzy to Hermione, and, she suspected, to Harry as well—and brought Cedric's body with him when he retrieved the Cup.
Crouch, posing as Moody, had tried to finish the job back at the castle, but Dumbledore had figured out at last who the culprit was and stopped him in time.
Harry was devastated: wounded, frightened, grieving, and in shock. Hermione and Ron spent the whole night with him in the hospital wing. She considered many times going to find Viktor, but couldn't bear to leave Harry now, even while Ron was with him.
In the end, Viktor came to find her instead. It was very early the following morning; Ron was dozing in a chair with his head resting on the edge of Harry's bed, and Hermione was watching them both. Harry had looked so awful when Dumbledore brought him in; his green eyes had such a hollow look to them, as if a part of his soul had been cut out. She had a bitter, miserable feeling that he would never lose that haunted look. The year had been hard enough on him leading up to this. Would the nightmares ever end for him now?
She was jolted out of her unhappy thoughts by footsteps coming into the hospital wing. She assumed it was Madam Pomfrey or maybe Mrs. Weasley coming to check on Harry, so it was a bit of a shock to her when Viktor peered around the screen.
For a moment, she just sat there stupidly, staring at him. Viktor didn't look as if he'd slept a wink last night either. He looked from her to the bed, regarding the sleeping Harry with his dark eyes, eyes that were suddenly so sad that Hermione jumped up and went to him. He took her hand—grabbed it, actually—but glanced at Harry again and ushered her down the wing so as not to wake him.
"How is he?" he asked quietly. "They say he vas badly hurt?"
"Madam Pomfrey treated his injuries," she sighed. "But he's, well…he saw Cedric killed." She knew in the back of her mind that she should be careful of what she said, even to Viktor, and that she would have to be very careful from here on out. "He couldn't stop it, and they meant to kill him too…" she shook her head. "I don't know how long it will be for him to recover." She rubbed her aching, gritty eyes. "How are you?"
Viktor shrugged and quickly looked away. "I have never seen such a thing as last night. I vill never forget. Nor vill my friends; ve did not sleep. Ve vere not able to."
"Me either." Hermione sat down on one of the beds, too tired to stand up. "What will happen now that Karkaroff is gone?"
"A new Headmaster vill come, I am thinking," Viktor replied, sitting down beside her. He put his arm around her, but it was not the initiation of anything romantic, just a comfort for himself as much as for her. She leaned against him. "Ve do not know vhy he fled." He sat up suddenly and looked at her. "Herm-own-ninny…I know Dumbledore vill have wanted you to say nothing of vhat happened…but ve are anxious to know. Vas Karkaroff involved in Cedric's killing?"
Oh. Lord, she hadn't realized that with everything kept so secretive, Karkaroff's disappearance might be assumed as connected to Cedric's murder. And by extension, his students would be suspected. She bit her lip, wondering what to do, whether she dared say anything without asking permission first… "I don't know for sure," she said slowly. "But…I don't think so." Lowering her voice, she added, "They don't want us to speak about it at all until they know exactly what happened—Harry has only been able to tell it all once, and he's, well…you know." Viktor nodded. "So I can only tell you that from what I've overheard, it sounds like he was not involved at all. I think he ran because he was afraid Cedric's killers might come after him."
She might have said too much there, but…what was done was done. Viktor nodded again, understanding her reservations, and did not press her for more. "Vill ve be blamed, do you think?"
Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and waited until he met her eyes. "Not by anyone with sense. Only idiots believe in guilt by association. I'm certain Dumbledore knows better."
Viktor looked doubtful, but did not avoid her gaze. "I hope you are right."
She was. Dumbledore's speech a week later proved that. There were some students who distanced themselves as much as possible from the Durmstrang students—often the same ones who avoided Harry because they'd believed Rita Skeeter's nonsense—but the Headmaster's warmth to them eased the worst of their fears.
Viktor pulled her aside while they were waiting for the carriages to Hogsmeade Station, and gave her his address. "Vrite to me," he said quietly.
"I will. I promise," she whispered.
"Headmaster Dumbledore spoke to me just now. He said that because Lord…because he is returned, it may not be safe for Muggleborn vitches and vizards to travel."
Hermione scowled. "He hasn't told me that yet."
"You still vish to come this summer?" Hermione nodded, and Viktor looked torn between gratification and worry. "I am glad, but…take care. I know some do not believe vhat Dumbledore says about his return, but I do. Ve must all take care now."
"I'll write no matter what," she whispered. "And we'll just have to…wait and see what happens."
"Vhat do you think vill happen?"
Her chest tightened. It always did when she tried to imagine what this year's events would mean for her, for Harry, for Hogwarts and the whole wizarding world. "I don't know. There was a war before. There probably will be again." Viktor looked somewhat ill at the thought—not surprising, since she felt the same way whenever she thought about it—so she said, "But Hagrid says what will come will come, and we'll just have to meet it. I guess it's important to remember that."
"That is good advice," Viktor agreed. "Ve cannot know vhat vill come. Ve have met not only bad things this year. I have met very good things." He gave her that same shy smile that she remembered from that first day in the library—and her heart reacted just as it had then.
With that silent look between them, like a promise that there would be good things to come to balance out the bad, they turned together and went back to meet Ron and Harry.
To be continued…
Coming Soon: We follow the fates of our hero and heroine through two years as the wizarding world slides into chaos, and Hermione and Viktor must each face the dangers that their position in that world brings in Chapter Three: Letters From The Front Lines!
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Oh, and have I mentioned that my birthday is next week, January 19th? I'm turning 25. You know what I want for my presents!