A/N: This is a gift Fic on Ministry of Magic Discord Group's serve for the Valentine's Gift Exchange! I got the privilege to gift a fic to Ava (aka: Slytherinmymind ). It was a delight writing this for you. I hope you enjoy! (Also, apologies for the length. The story kind of….got away from me XD Also apologies for what I feel is a weak ending. My brain died at the end there)
Word reference: oeuvre-a collection of works made by a painter, composer, or author
Summary: When Hermione heard of soulmates, she wasn't sure she had one. But upon meeting him, finding out that he practiced relentlessly to say her name correctly melted her heart. (Vikmione) One-shot
Words: 12,233
Prompts:
-Vikmione (Hermione/Viktor)
-Soulmates AU
Soulmate's Signature on your wrist
"Say My Name"
Hermione thought it would be easy, having the name of Viktor on her wrist. It appeared on her as soon as she had hit puberty, and Ginny had explained to her that it was a sign she had a soulmate! The two had sighed prettily at the notion, and with Hermione finally able to go to Hogsmeade, she had a chance to look for her other half. Her entire third year, however, had no such luck. With their fourth year started, and the announcement of foreign students spending time within the castle, Hermione couldn't help but hope that her soulmate was among them.
"I kind of feel sorry for your soulmate, though," Ginny idly commented one breezy October afternoon as they lounged by the lake, Harry and Ron zooming through the air over the lake on their broomsticks, playing catch with the Giant Squid. Hermione shot her an annoyed look.
"What do you mean by that?" Hermione asked, giving the redhead a grimace in anticipation of what she might say.
"If they didn't already know you, learning how to say your name is going to be an ordeal!" Ginny replied. "Hermione! Hermione!" Ginny called out. "Her-My-Own-Knee! Hermi-oh!" Hermione tackled the redhead, the two giggling in companionship as the boys soared overhead, oblivious. After an obviously one-sided tickle fight, the two girls straightened and settled back onto the blanket they had brought out.
"Ginny, why aren't you out flying with the boys? It would be a great opportunity to get to know Harry a bit more," Hermione said after a moment, wanting to get off of the subject of soulmates. With the contingents from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang showing up at the end of the month, Hermione wasn't going to hold her breath that her soulmate was amongst them. Ginny flushed, fidgeting in her seat, her hand coming up to cover her wrist. Hermione's eyes immediately zeroed in on her motion, and pounced on her.
"You got your name! Who is it?" Hermione exclaimed, giving a small squeal. Ginny clutched her wrist tighter and shook her head. Hermione paused, her expression growing concerned at Ginny's reaction. "Ginny? Is everything okay?" She shook her head again, causing Hermione to gather the redhead up in a tight hug. "We don't have to talk about it now. I take it the name isn't Harry?" Ginny shook her head again and Hermione squeezed tighter. "Well, whoever it is, maybe they're also coming from the visiting schools. One can only hope!"
With the mood now dampened, Hermione and Ginny sat together on the blanket, their gazes trained on the boys in the sky as they had fun, nary a care in the world. Both of them had names on their wrists, Ron being paired with a girl named Hannah–but not Hannah Abbott, since her name paired her with Neville–and Harry refusing to share his name with the girls.
Anticipation built up in Hermione's chest as she daydreamed about the future. What would her soulmate be like? Would he be her type? Did she even have a type? Well, if she ever got to meet her soulmate, she'd find out.
Hermione settled down in their usual spot at the Gryffindor table. Today was October 30th, and the schools of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had arrived minutes earlier. The other schools had been ushered off into an antechamber somewhere to get out of the cold, or to make a grand entrance, she wasn't sure. But excitement bubbled up inside of her as her friends joined her. Neville, Ginny, Harry and Ron all settled in around her, and Hermione took a moment to still her rapidly beating heart. She hadn't really planned for how she would meet her soulmate amongst the foreign students. What if it wasn't one of them?
She had done some research in the library, and found that Viktor with a k was a popular spelling of the name in the Balkans and the surrounding areas. With how Durmstrang was rumored to be located somewhere in that area as well, it only made sense that they would have a few Viktors sprinkled about. But how to approach them? She couldn't just go around and introduce herself to every Viktor in the lot, demanding to see his wrist to see if her name was there. Some of the people with names on their wrists kept it very private, some not wanting a soulmate at all when they were perfectly happy with their current relationships. Others had to worry about their soulmate being on the other side of a political divide, like one fifth year in Slytherin. She was partnered with a Muggleborn, and had burst into tears when he had introduced himself.
Would her soulmate be a bigot?
"Introducing…the ladies of Beauxbatons!" Headmaster Dumbledore announced, drawing Hermione's attention to the doors of the Great Hall. She began to clap as the girls in blue entered, their silken uniforms shimmering in the candlelight. The applause died out as the ladies seemed to do a restrained ballet routine as they walked down the center aisle, led by a mammoth of a woman who stood taller than Hagrid by at least a head. As the last of the blue-clad ladies passed by, applause started again and Madam Maxime, the Headmistress of Beauxbatons, directed her girls to sit down at the Ravenclaw tables, the lighter blue uniforms shining out in the sea of black with blue trim.
"And now, the gentlemen of Durmstrang!" The doors to the Great Hall opened once more, and while the women of Beauxbatons played up their femininity and grace, the men of Durmstrang, clad in red uniforms with thick fur cloaks, did a more robust routine of martial arts. One man, who could only be their headmaster, wielding a staff with a gnarled top sporting a salt and pepper beard, strode confidently through his students doing various katas and flying leaps for the students of Hogwarts. Another student walked next to the man instead of taking part of the presentation, and Hermione tore her eyes off of the two to eye the practically flying men around them.
They exuded their own grace, and showcased their strength in the exhibition, keeping pace with their headmaster. A spattering of whispers broke up around her, but Hermione ignored them in favor of scanning everyone that passed by her. None of them gave her a second look, which fit her just fine, but they moved too fast to see if any of them had names on their wrists, the majority of them completely covered by their uniforms and cloaks.
Her breath hitched as the boy walking next to the Headmaster locked eyes with her for a moment, his gaze lingering on her, recognition flaring before he was swept away to the front with the rest of his classmates. Hermione settled heavily in her seat feeling rattled, wondering why he seemed familiar to her, as if she had known him for forever, finally tuning into the chatter around her even as the applause for Durmstrang started up.
"Viktor! Viktor Krum is here!"
"I wonder why he isn't performing? He looks like he's wearing two fur cloaks!"
Hermione remembered him now, of meeting him only a few short months ago up in the Minister's Box, at the World Cup when Ireland had won but Krum had caught the snitch. His gloves had been shed, giving her the sight of pale unblemished skin on his wrists, her disappointment flaring up as she realized that he didn't have a soulmate. How sad for him.
The chatter was suddenly interrupted by one of the last Durmstrang students filing into the room breathed over the top of his wooden staff, a dragon made of fire suddenly roaring out above the students heads, filling the room with a heat that settled into Hermione's bones pleasantly. Over at the Ravenclaw table, there were several signs of contentment as the Beauxbatons students felt the heat, their uniforms and cloaks obviously not fit for the Scottish Autumn weather.
"Harry! Viktor. Viktor Krum is here! I didn't know he was still a student!" Ron exclaimed from across Hermione. Ginny and Neville sat across from the trio and they leaned in as Ron rattled off statistics of the infamous Bulgarian Seeker and the play-by-play action from the World Cup they had all watched months prior.
Hermione kept her curious eye on the Bulgarian seeker as he took his seat at the Slytherin table, where Durmstrang had taken up residence upon the direction of their headmaster. Her eyes widened as his sleeve rode up, and she could see black ink on his wrist before he sat down. Straightening and facing her table again, Hermione's thoughts raced, trying to remember which wrist she had seen at the World Cup, and how foolish she was to have overlooked something like that. Her mental conundrum was interrupted, however, as the Hogwarts headmaster stood to greet everyone.
"We want to thank everyone for being here tonight," Dumbledore started, and the chatter around her died down to listen to the Headmaster's speech. After Hogwarts was led through a rousing chorus of the school song, dinner arrived, and the tables groaned under the weight of all of the food suddenly upon them. Hermione dug in eagerly, but kept one ear open towards the Slytherin table. All she could hear was the name Viktor, Viktor, but was this international Quidditch star really her Viktor? Was Viktor Krum, star Seeker, really the one meant for her, perfect in every way?
As soon as she was able to on the morning of Halloween, Hermione dove into the stacks of the Hogwarts Library, searching out every article and mention of Viktor Krum, including magazine covers, articles, and even the rare issue of Quidditch yearly, which gave full portraits and statistics of every single player in each of the leagues of the world. It was only when Harry and Ron came to get her for dinner did she pause in her rabid research attempt.
"Man, Hermione, I didn't realize you were such a fan!" Ron exclaimed, unaware that Hermione had been searching exclusively for any pictures of his wrist, to see what name he might have.
"I'm not," she replied, staring Ron straight in the face before showing him her wrist. The blood drained from his face at the sight.
"You…you think that he is…"
"It's his name. I'm trying to see even a glimpse of his wrists to see if he has a long name or short name on them, but they're either covered up, or his wrists are bare," Hermione explained, huffing slightly in frustration. She began to gather up all of the materials she had been perusing to put them on the return cart. "If it isn't him, then I'll just keep searching. But I thought at least if I saw the length of the name on his wrist in a photo, I could make sure I don't get my hopes up too much."
Ron shook his head. "You won't find any of that in professional publications. They have a rule in the leagues that if a player doesn't obscure the name themselves with magic or muggle cosmetics, all photographs have to be magically altered to obscure or hide the names of soulmates. About forty years ago, an avid fan of a Chaser on the Kenmare Kestrels discovered the name of his soulmate through a photo of the game highlights and killed her, all so this fan could have a shot with her celebrity crush. He didn't take it too well and had her up on murder charges nearly as soon as she confessed to him what she did. He sued every single publication that had his soulmate's name in it, and now there's strict rules about the privacy of the soulmates of Quidditch Players."
Hermione blinked in surprise at the explanation before sighing heavily, her shoulders drooping. "I should have known…"
"Don't worry, Hermione. You'll figure something out. You always do," Harry consoled as he gathered up her materials to help her put them on the reshelving cart. Once everything was magically put away, they could head down to dinner, and Hermione had to admit, she was starving!
"Now let's go see what's to eat!" Ron stated. "Since the other two schools showed up, it's definitely been a different fare than what we're used to." Hermione nodded before gathering up her bag.
"And then we have the champion selection after that," Hermione reminded them. The two boys suddenly grinned at each other before grinning at her.
"Let me tell you, I am looking forward to having a quiet year this year," Harry commented as the trio left the library. Hermione and Ron laughed again, agreeing.
"You always get the short end of the stick, don't you?" Ron asked with a wide grin.
Viktor hid behind the stacks, having holed himself up in the Hogwarts library almost immediately after breakfast in the attempt to research spells and creatures popular in Britain. He knew everything in Bulgaria and the surrounding area by heart, his formal education had ensured that, but he was unfamiliar with this land, and was trying to fill the gap in his knowledge.
Over the course of his time in the library that day, he noticed only one other person in the library the entire Saturday afternoon. He had thought about going up and introducing himself, but he scowled when he noticed the curly brown haired witch had pulled nearly everything off the shelves pertaining to him.
"Just another fangirl," he muttered in his native tongue. Turning away from her, he moved to a table further away from her, to ensure she wouldn't accidentally stumble upon him. His concentration only broke, hours later, when the brown haired witch's friends stumbled upon her. He began to gather his own materials to put them away when what they were saying finally pierced his brain fog.
"It's his name," the witch said. "I've been trying to see even a glimpse of his wrists to see if there's a long name or a short name." Viktor drew closer, hiding between bookcases. Leaning a bit, he could stare over the books shelved in front of him to get a look at the trio. The two boys stood with their backs to him, but he had a clear face of the witch he had so easily dismissed before. She had a clear complexion, with a petite nose and whiskey colored eyes. In her frazzled state, some of her curly hair seemed to have escaped her bun to frame her face attractively, two brilliantly white quills sticking out of the bun itself. "If it wasn't him, then I'll just keep searching. But I thought at least if I saw the length of the name on his wrist in a photo, I could make sure I don't get my hopes up too much," she added.
Viktor felt a pang of shame going through him at his presumption. Losing himself in his thoughts, he could easily imagine himself with the girl in front of him. She could come to his practices and games, and cheer him on. If he mustered up the courage to talk to her soon, to learn her name, he might even convince her to cheer for him if he got selected as a champion after dinner tonight. Wouldn't that be a delight? He could drape her in his colors, in his spare practice kit as well, unless he could convince his sister to make a woman's kit with his name on the back. But he was getting ahead of himself here. Even if he wouldn't get picked, he would still leave this country with the knowledge of his soulmate.
Absently, he rubbed his wrist where his soulmate's name was. He had spent his entire teenage life looking up the name as soon as it appeared, brushing up on his English once he realized it was a name in a British playwright's oeuvre. He referenced so many linguistic dictionaries and pronunciation guides in order to get the name right. He wanted to make sure that he got it right the first time, so much that it was a point of pride for him to have the name roll off his tongue. It was such a long name, with multiple syllables, that made his tongue trip over itself whenever he had first tried saying it. But now, with years of instruction, he could recite her name, and the play it was from, like the back of his hand. Her tale was a tragic one, and Viktor had to admit he fantasized more than once about being the hero to swoop in and save her from whatever troubles plagued her.
He mouthed his soulmate's name to himself, but jumped when one of the witch's friends spoke, much closer than he had been before. The boy with messy hair and glasses deposited an armful of materials onto the brass cart near the end of the aisle Viktor was hiding in, and as Viktor deftly dodged the materials now reshelving themselves, his attention hyper focused on what the boy was saying.
"Don't worry, Hermione. You'll figure something out. You always do."
Hermione. Viktor sharply looked at his wrist to see that exact name staring back at him in a handwriting that was somehow both loopy and cramped. It was her. This witch, who immediately turned to research to try to confirm or deny every possible option, was his, as he was hers. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, his breath shortening as his vision tunneled, the enormity of this hitting him like a bag of Bludgers.
His soulmate was here, and she was looking for him.
It felt like only a few seconds to him, but when Viktor refocused on the world around him, the trio had gone, most likely off to dinner, and Viktor was standing dumbly in the aisle. With a slight cough to recenter himself, he shelved his own materials before striding out of the library, intent on catching the witch who he knew now was his soulmate.
Upon entering the Great Hall, his eyes immediately sought her out, finding her among a sea of gold and scarlet. She laughed at something her redheaded friend said, and Viktor longed to join their conversation. Now that he knew who she was, and knowing how close they had been to each other without speaking to one another, there was a burning in his chest that urged him to move forward, to take her in his arms, and–
A hand clamped down on his shoulder, and Viktor flinched, turning to find Headmaster Karkaroff standing there. "Soon your name will come out of the Goblet of Fire, and then the real training will begin," he stated. Viktor swallowed thickly, not daring to look back at his soulmate for fear of drawing his Headmaster's attention to her, before nodding.
"Yes Headmaster," Viktor replied before letting himself be steered towards the green clad table. Perhaps he could greet her after he was chosen as a champion?
Viktor waited sullenly in the antechamber with the other two champions, Fleur from Beauxbatons and Cedric from Hogwarts. Now that the three of them were here, shouldn't the judges have followed them in to explain the First Task?
Arguing came from behind the closed door that led back into the Great Hall, and the three Champions looked towards it just in time to see a messy haired teen–the one from the library, Viktor realized–being dragged into the room by his arm. The boy looked panicked, and he kept repeating, "I didn't put my name in! I refuse to compete!" A memory of reading the rules pamphlet–something that his headmaster forced all of them to do before they could step on the ship to come to Hogwarts–niggled at the back of his mind, and in the next moment, realized what the boy was trying to do.
"Say it more, with confidence, until the flame is taken away," Viktor declared. The boy looked at him, startled, and a second passed as he processed his words. He then began to repeat them.
"I didn't put my name in, I refuse to compete! I didn't put my name in, I refuse to compete!"
"Harry, no!"
"Mr. Potter, no!" the Headmaster of Hogwarts exclaimed at the same time as the chubby official, Mr. Bagman, also spoke. On the third time Harry Potter spoke his declaration, a tiny flame the same color as the flames in the lit Goblet of Fire appeared before the boy. He stared at the flames, transfixed, and Viktor saw Harry mouth his Words of Repudiation once more. The flame grew brighter before it jumped away.
The grizzled Hogwarts teacher, who was just stomping into the room, was struck by the fire and consumed. He screamed, the other teachers and adults immediately trying to put him out. However, the fire didn't burn him. It merely burned away his disguise. With a gasp, the grizzled man was no more, and in his place was a sandy haired individual, less than ten years older than Viktor himself. The newcomer fell to his knees in the doorway, and the Hogwarts Headmaster's wand was suddenly pointed at the man, followed by the other teachers and tournament officials.
"Who is that?!" Headmistress Maxime demanded. As one, Headmaster Karkaroff and the older official wearily replied.
"Barty Crouch Jr…"
"Where is Alastor?" a Hogwarts witch asked.
"What just happened?" Cedric asked, and all of the adults turned to look at him. At that moment, Barty Crouch Jr leapt up from his spot on the floor to grab Albus Dumbledore's wand. The first spell he tried, however, had nothing happen. Headmaster Dumbledore, as if realizing what had just happened, just waited patiently, his hands clasped before him. The older tournament official suddenly shook his head, as if coming out of a daze.
"Mr. Crouch, if you would be so kind as to give me my wand back. Unfortunately, due to young Harry here giving his Words of Repudiation, the deposit of your magic when you entered his name was forfeit." Headmaster Dumbledore gently took his wand back from the stunned man, who was now staring at his hands in horror.
"No, no!" he began to scream. Dumbledore, perhaps in an act of pity, stunned the young man, causing him to slump over. Looking over his half-moon glasses at all of them, Dumbledore regarded the three Champions, making Viktor want to fidget.
"Tomorrow, we will gather after breakfast and give you the first clue to the First Task. My apologies, but we have more pressing matters to take care of, like how a man can come back from the dead and pose as our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Dumbledore leveled a look at Barty Crouch Sr, who continued to look like he'd seen a ghost when looking at his son.
Headmaster Karkaroff's hand was suddenly on Viktor's shoulder. "Let's go."
Nodding, Viktor silently followed his Headmaster back to the ship. The Great Hall was empty, but he knew the walls would have ears. Every school does. Once they cleared the castle walls and were walking across the lawn to the ship, Headmaster Karkaroff spoke in small quick breaths, quiet enough that Viktor even had to lean in to hear him.
"Barty Crouch Jr is the son of one of the tournament organizers. I wouldn't be surprised if he was removed because of his son's interference with the champion selection. But Jr was supposed to have been buried in the Azkaban cemetery. Senior had made such a big production out of it, bringing in his sickly wife to say her last goodbyes to their sickly son. He was put in there because he was caught torturing a pair of Aurors into insanity. Senior was shamed ever since then. They say Junior had only gotten sicker after that visit, and died within days. There was no funeral, for either Junior or the wife." Headmaster Karkaroff was practically remunerating aloud, but he paused in his steps as a thought came to him. "Heh, the cur switched them, didn't he? But where would have Senior kept him?"
"Headmaster?" Viktor asked, startling the older man out of his musings.
"Oh, yes, Viktor. Come, let us get you back on the ship. How is your cough? Much better than yesterday?"
With Harry having successfully gotten out of competing in a dangerous tournament meant for adults, Hermione could breathe a sigh of relief that this year her brother by heart was able to not have to worry about peril. Sure, they would have to figure out why this so-called Barty Crouch Jr wanted him entered, but they could worry about that another time. It was the end of November, and Hermione was currently in the library, looking up old articles of the Daily Prophet to find any mention of Junior.
She'd been pulling at her hair, worrying herself at her inability to approach a (fairly attractive and popular) boy who may or may not be her soulmate. The boys found it hilarious because here she was, Ms. Perfection, Ms. Bossy, Ms. Take Charge, waffling on the decision on if she wanted to introduce herself to an international Quidditch star.
Both of them got hexed, and so she holed herself up to investigate the man to blame for Harry's name being in the Goblet, in order to distract herself. She wasn't procrastinating, per say, but she definitely put that confrontation on the backburner.
So engrossed in her searching, she didn't notice the new person sitting at her table until she took a moment to stretch, shifting her attention off of the old papers in front of her. Hermione jumped, hitting her knee on the bottom of the table, as she took in Viktor Krum sitting before her awkwardly. A flush immediately filled her cheeks, and he gave her a restrained smile.
"Do you mind sharing?" he asked her quietly, and she shook her head.
"Not at all," she replied lightly, too lightly, in her opinion, as if she was trying hard not to react to him. But her heart was hammering in her chest. Here he was, before her. She hadn't planned for this. But she should just go and get everything out and ask him and-
"My name is Viktor Krum," he then said, introducing himself. Hermione immediately grabbed her wrist where his name laid on her skin, covered by her warm patented Weasley sweater.
"I'm Hermione Granger," she introduced in kind, holding her breath for his reaction. He didn't disappoint. At the sound of her name, his breath hitched, and a sudden look of hope spread on his face.
"Hermione," he whispered reverently, and Hermione knew she was a goner. He said her name perfectly the first time, unlike any others who had just met her. He said it simply, like someone who had said her name a million times before, but with the knowledge that they were soulmates, his tone made his words seem that much more sensual. In the next movement, he leaned forward, only the table separating them for now, his hand coming up to the cuff on his sleeve and quickly rolling it up. He held his wrist out to her. "This is how you spell it, yes?" he asked eagerly. Hermione's breath caught as she leaned forward to see her name shining up at her, in her distinctive cursive whenever she had to sign something. She looked up at him, seeing the hope and slight fear in his eyes.
Hermione smiled before lifting her own sleeve, showing him his own signature that curved over her wrist. "It is," she replied. Viktor gave a sudden laugh before he surged to his feet, covering the distance between them in two long strides. She was suddenly in the air, wrapped in his arms as he lifted her up in joy. Hermione couldn't help but give her own laugh as he twirled her around.
He suddenly set her down, as if remembering where they were and stepped back for a moment, giving a slight cough before taking her hand in one of his and bowing over it, his other hand tucked behind his back in what could only have been a formal bow.
"Hermione, please allow me to court you. You…are my soulmate. And I want to make this work," he pleaded. She nodded back in delight.
"I would like that," she replied breathlessly. He placed an oh so gentle kiss onto her knuckles before straightening.
"So, what were you working on?" Viktor then asked before retaking his seat, Hermione sinking back into hers. He moved his chair closer to hers to get a better look at the papers she had pulled. In short time, she described to him–her soulmate! Oh Merlin, she felt giddy just thinking about it–what she was working on. She also gave him the backstory of their last three school years and the troubles that seemed to follow them.
"We're worried that this is another attempt by the Death Eaters or Voldemort to come back. After our first year, where Voldemort was on the back of a teacher's head–"
"He was what?!"
"Let me finish; when he was on the back of a teacher's head, Professor Dumbledore told us there was a chance that he was still alive. And since then, it's been one mishap after another," she finished.
Viktor blew out a steadying breath to collect his thoughts. "Okay. Here's what I heard from my Headmaster…"
Hermione sat in the stands nervously as the champions went up against the First Task. Cedric went first, and Hermione screamed when the first dragon came into the arena.
"Mad, all of them," Harry said from next to her as he stared around at the crowd of witches and wizards surrounding them in the stands. They were all cheering or jeering in kind at the barely-of-age wizard in the arena who was now facing off against a beast that normally took a team of handlers to deal with.
"That could have been you in there," Ron said from Hermione's other side, his face a sickly white. Harry gulped nervously.
"Hermione, you're my savior, you know that?" he stated, leaning into her, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. Hermione ignored him, shrieking again as the dragon lunged at Cedric, spewing forth a torrent of flames at him. He dodged deftly, rolling away, and transfiguring a large rock into a dog, in the hopes of distracting the beast. It worked long enough for Cedric to get his golden egg from the clutch the nesting mother protected so fervently. Another torrent of flame burst just past him as he sprinted out of the arena, pulling a gasp from the trio. Hermione stood in worry, but Ron managed to get her to sit back down in time to see a quintet of dragon handlers subduing the dragon to ready the arena for the next Champion, Fleur.
Fleur had a much easier time subduing her dragon, singing it to sleep. Her skirt did go up in flames from a fire breath exhaled too closely to her, but she herself wasn't burned.
Hermione's nails sunk into her face as she watched the last dragon be dragged out in preparation for Viktor's attempt. Her soulmate. Watching him start with the Flame-Freezing Charm made her sigh a breath of relief. He had originally wanted to use the Conjunctivitis Curse on the dragon, aiming for the eyes, but she managed to convince him otherwise, claiming that the dragons–and they only knew about the dragons beforehand because Karkaroff was not above cheating–didn't have an option in any of this. If they were attacking the school, or other people, then yes, do whatever he could to survive. But they were dragged here against their will along with their nests, and Hermione suspected it was done illegally. Nesting mothers! That should have been a war crime in and of itself.
With his next breath, Viktor raised his wand and did the motion for the summoning charm, calling his broomstick to him. With the dragon chained with limited movement, the best way for Viktor to show his prowess was to fly. No one was better than him on the broom, and he proved it when his Firebolt flew to him from where he had stashed it under the stands earlier that morning and he jumped on.
From that moment on, it was only sheer beauty, watching Victor on a broom. He soared through the skies with a grace unknown to him when on land, and for a moment, Hermione felt slight jealousy at how easy he made it look. In the next moment, her jealousy turned to terror as Viktor flew past them, dragon fire roaring after him.
Someone shrieked, and Hermione idly realized it was her. Her hands clutched at her face, her heart tearing through her chest at the sight of her soulmate–her soulmate! She was still getting used to that concept–faced off against an enraged dragon. Banking in the air, Viktor raised his wand and threw something sticky at the one fake egg in the nest. It stuck to the egg, a long string of what looked like spider webbing connecting the egg to his wand. He dodged again while on his broom, keeping a tight hold on his wand while keeping out of reach of the dragon's teeth and fire breath.
With an almighty tug, the egg burst free from the nest and started hovering. Seeing this, Viktor took off, rising up into the sky and going higher and higher and higher. Squinting to try to keep an eye on him, Hermione whimpered once he was only a dot. Someone thrust Omnioculars into her hands, and she immediately raised them to find Viktor against the clear blue sky. The dragon strained against her chains, crying out heatedly at the image of one of her eggs being stolen. She blew hot fire at it, and while the spider webbing caught on fire, it wasn't enough to sever the thread. Soon, the egg disappeared into the sky as well, and the dragon gave one final wrench of her bindings before suddenly the chain gave way. With two long beats of her wings, she took off into the sky after Viktor, and the entire crowd screamed in terror at the unleashed beast.
With her Omnioculars, Hermione saw the dragon catch up with Viktor just as he was dispelling the spider webbing from the egg. She screamed out in vain to warn him, but Viktor seemed to have noticed the dragon moments before she could bite him, her teeth closing over the spot he had just been. With his Firebolt, however, Viktor took off, heading back towards the ground. The dragon took off after him, her wings tucked into her back to go as fast as she could to catch up with the egg snatcher.
And then suddenly Viktor was within normal sight again, egg tucked under his arm, and he spiraled down, straight at the ground. Hermione shrieked again, the omnioculars tossed onto her chair to let her rush forward and grab at the hand railing desperately.
"The Wronski Feint! The Wronski Feint!" someone called out from her side. "He's doing it!"
Like at the World Cup, Viktor pulled up at the last second to go parallel to the ground, the dragon hot on his heels. But with her girth, the dragon did not have the ability to change direction as well as the International Seeker, and with a loud crunch, the dragon slammed into the ground. She stood up just fine afterward, after a moment of shaking off the shock, however that had given Viktor enough time to zoom across the ground and out of the arena. For a moment, everything was silent, and then everyone erupted into cheers, the entire stands jumping to their feet to give a raucous applause.
Hermione began to sob in relief, immediately turning to hug Ron and Harry close to her. A moment later, and the boys were tugging her through the stands, Neville picking up the Omnioculars and following behind them. Waiting outside of the medical tent, the boys ran a quick reconnaissance to make sure there wasn't anyone but the champions inside.
Suddenly, Ron tugged her inside the tent, and suddenly she was in Viktor's arms, sobbing again in relief.
"You're okay, you're alive! Dragons! What were they thinking?" she cried out, and Viktor held her tighter. Pulling back a moment to take a closer look at him, her eyes narrowed at the sight of his recently healed broken nose, and he replied before she could even ask.
"I thought it was a longer corridor than what it was at the exit of the arena. I may have hit a wall," he admitted.
"That was amazing, what you did! Flying your broom?" Ron interjected, before Hermione could work herself up over the injury.
"That Wronski Feint was absolute perfection! You'll have to teach us how to do it," Harry added, seeing what his friend was doing.
Ron continued, seeing how the longer Hermione was able to think, the calmer she was getting. "Yeah, and when you're giving us lessons, you can include Hermione in this! Maybe she'll actually like flying if you teach her," he added slyly.
"Ronald!" Hermione burst out, her face red as she smacked his arm. He just laughed in response.
"You don't know how to fly?" Viktor asked, turning to give his witch his undivided attention. Hermione couldn't help but internally swoon in delight.
"Correction, I don't like to fly. I don't like heights," she replied. Viktor hugged her once more as Madam Pomfrey bustled over, carrying a tray of potions and a roll of bandages. She plucked one off of the tray and handed it to him.
"For the sprain in your left ankle and the fractures in your right leg," she stated before heading to the next bed that contained Cedric, who's entire head was swathed in bandages, presumably soaked with burn healing paste. "Dragons! What are they going to think of next, shoving everyone underwater in January?!" Madam Promfrey grumbled as she walked away.
Hermione abruptly pulled herself out of Viktor's arms, glaring at him. "Fractures?" Viktor gave a small laugh.
"Is nothing."
"Viktor!"
True to his word, the following weekend the quartet gathered for a flying lesson, only because Hermione insisted on giving him extra time to heal from his encounter with the corridor wall after the First Task. In that week, Viktor and Hermione had spent a lot of time together in the library, her friends occasionally joining them in order to fend off some of the fangirls that lingered in the stacks, but more often than not the two were alone and were able to talk more.
Hermione found out that Viktor was the youngest of four siblings–one brother and two sisters–and only the brother was married to his soulmate. The sisters were still searching, but were not giving up hope. She also learned that Viktor liked spicy food and that he hasn't found any good spicy food since he played in a Quidditch match in Spain. Viktor discovered that Hermione liked recreational reading, knitting–a hobby she took up this year in the attempt to free the school House Elves (which was a conversation for another time)–and that she loved championing for unconventional beauties.
"Like Crookshanks?" he had asked, having met her familiar the day before.
"Yes, like Crookshanks," she had replied laughingly.
Viktor had also learned that while Hermione didn't like flying, it was because she didn't like the lack of control when she was in the sky. And that she was afraid of heights.
So now she sat in front of him on his Firebolt, Harry and Ron flanking them on their own brooms. They were at the Quidditch Pitch, and Viktor could feel Hermione shaking in his arms. They were hovering perhaps only a few feet off of the ground, and when they had tried to replicate her first Flying lesson from First year–one that had been explained to him ended with Neville breaking his wrist and Harry getting a position on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team–the broom had merely rolled over in defiance of her wavering tone. It took at least half an hour to get to the bottom of her self confidence, and Hermione had admitted to falling out of a tree when she was younger after being placed in it by a well meaning uncle.
"All children love climbing, my uncle had said!" Hermione stated. "She'll be fine, he had said! And then when I wanted to get down, he demanded I do it myself. I broke my arm. He paid for the hospital bill and then bought me the entire Encyclopedia Britannica five years in a row as an apology. So, I guess I also fear falling. It wasn't a pleasant experience." She shuddered before frowning. "No, this bookworm doesn't fly."
"Well, you seem more like a book-caterpillar, than a bookworm," he pointed out. "And caterpillars eventually become butterflies, when they gain their wings." Viktor had smiled charmingly at her, and she had melted at his fond expression. "We will just teach you how to get your wings."
And now, with her seated in front of him on the broom, Viktor wrapped an arm around her waist. He nuzzled her neck for a moment, cherishing the closeness they could share. He felt Hermione lean against him, and without her knowing, he raised the broom another two feet.
A cool wind blew across the pitch, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face that had escaped the messy bun she had thrown her hair in before they started. He felt her stiffen, and he knew she had opened her eyes to see they had gone higher. Ron and Harry stayed at the same altitude, circling beneath them to give her reassurance they could catch her if she fell.
In a way, it did make her feel safer, but she still didn't like it. Viktor's arm around her tightened, and she nodded against him.
"Okay Professor Krum. Let's teach this bookworm how to fly," she stated, steeling her nerves.
An hour later, Hermione firmly had her feet on the ground, more sure than ever that she still hated flying, however she was more sturdy on a broom. Borrowing Ron's Cleansweep–which had a much slower top speed than the Firebolts that both Harry and Viktor sat upon–Hermione had managed three laps around the field before she declared them done for the day. Now she leaned against one of the goal posts, a book in her hands, occasionally looking up to make sure none of her boys had slammed into the ground. The book was to distract her from the harrowing experience that was her soulmate teaching her best friends how to do the Wronski Feint. It was two hours until dinnertime, and the light was fading fast. She was hoping they would finish soon enough.
Unable to keep the smile off of her face as she thought about how nice it was that all three boys could hang out together, Hermione let herself be absorbed in her reading, the thrilling adventure of King Arthur and his knights occupying her mind until the alarm she had set on her wand went off.
Pushing off from the hoops, Hermione bookmarked her spot before tucking the book away; she walked further out onto the pitch to grab their attention.
Suddenly, three boys were divebombing her, and Hermione couldn't help but give a shriek as the three pulled up in unison to hover before her. She leveled a glare at Viktor, Harry, and Ron, but their grinning faces soon pulled a smile from her.
"It's dinnertime," she pointed out. Ron immediately brightened.
"Foooooood!" he exclaimed, doing a quick loop-de-loop in delight.
"Yeah, I'm starving," Harry added, and the three slowly landed before taking their brooms in hand.
As they walked back towards the castle, brooms in hand, Viktor's hand slowly entwined with Hermione's, and her heart soared. Nothing felt better than this.
Hermione truly felt like a princess, as she stood at the top of the stairs leading to the entryway. Ron and Harry had already descended, meeting their dates–Parvati and Padma respectively–at the bottom of the stairs. Ginny and Neville had met in the common room before heading down, so now it was just her. Viktor gazed up at her adoringly, openly showing emotion amongst his classmates. Her breath taken away, she couldn't help but touch her hair–which was now fully tamed and twirled into elegant curls–and the jewelry Viktor had gifted her the previous Hogsmeade.
"Heirlooms," he had said fondly, and Hermione couldn't help but grin nervously. Her periwinkle dress stood out against the black and scarlet of his own dress robes as they met at the final step, Viktor offering his hand to help her descend to the flagstone. He bowed over her hand, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. She grinned widely back at him, ready to have the experience of a lifetime.
"Champions, over here!" Professor McGonagall called out as Professors Sprout and Flitwick began to usher the rest of the students into the transformed Great Hall. Hermione was excited to see it.
Taking Viktor's arm, they lined up with the other champions, Ludo Bagman getting ready to announce them. Having learned that they would open the ball with dancing, Hermione had gathered together all of the champions and their dates and demanded they all refresh their dancing skills.
"And if none of you need the refresher, I do! I would definitely appreciate all of the pointers you could give!" she had said. So the week before the ball the Champions and their partners had gathered, dancing to an old record player Mr. Filch had. Hermione relished the feeling of being in Viktor's arms, and couldn't wait for the big day.
And now that big day was here, and here she was, on Viktor Krum's arm as they strode into the Great Hall, ready to open the first dance. Her attention was solely on her date, and as they posed themselves for the beginning of the dance, Hermione stared into his eyes and felt warmth fill her heart. She beamed up at him, Viktor easily returning her smile, and then the music started.
With the practice they had done, Hermione and Viktor moved as one. The cameras flashed as Viktor lifted her up into the air, a giant smile on her face. She knew these pictures would be circulating in the Prophet for the next week, but she didn't care. She came to the Yule Ball to have fun with her soulmate, and nothing was going to stop that.
All too soon the music stopped and all dancers paused, giving a bow or curtsy respectfully to the musicians for a wonderful song. Viktor then led her to their table set aside specifically for the champions, their dates, and the tournament organizers. With a quick look around the hall, Hermione took in the beautiful white and silver decorations hanging from the walls, piles of fake snow clustered in corners. Several giant white Christmas trees towered by the walls, and were filled with glistening baubles and shimmering fairies.
Dinner came and went, Hermione had danced more with Viktor as well as all of her friends–Harry, Ron, and Neville each getting a dance–before the Weird Sisters came on and general party dancing began.
At the end of the night, her cheeks hurt from smiling too much, and nothing could go wrong to take that feeling from her.
Viktor, on the 27th, came to breakfast with his heart light. The Yule Ball had been two days ago, but he had the opportunity to have his soulmate on his arm and have a good time, with no paparazzi hovering around, no reporters making salacious comments, and no one bugging him for a quote. That lightness disappeared, however, when he saw that Hermione was surrounded by mail that was quickly piling up. Gryffindor prefects were vanishing any red envelopes that were being brought in, but the rest seemed just as benign. Viktor grabbed her under the armpits and pulled Hermione physically out of her chair just as an envelope was dropped onto her plate by an owl that flew away immediately, the envelope bursting open and spilling out a thick yellowish green liquid that ran over where her hands and legs would have been.
"Professor!" Harry hollered as soon as he saw the mess. Neville winced as he realized what the liquid was.
"Undiluted Bubotuber Pus," he said as Professor McGonagall arrived. The Hogwarts professor actually growled before she waved her wand and all of the mail disappeared. "I've sent the mail to the elves to be checked over for maliciousness. We will pass on any actual correspondence, Ms. Granger. But until then, all mail is going to be screened, and anything meant to harm will be forwarded on to the Aurors," she stated. Viktor nodded in thanks.
"Who would do such a thing?" Hermione asked, clutching Viktor's robes in comfort.
"Spiteful, hurtful people who saw yesterday's paper on the ball," Viktor replied with a grimace. "Unfortunately, being with me will put you in the spotlight." Hermione gave her own grimace. Harry gave him a look at Viktor's tone, and Viktor met his gaze steadily.
"What are you going to do about it?" he asked warily, and Viktor gave a small smile.
"What use is fame if I can't use it to squash annoying insects?" he asked, and Harry grinned in return. Viktor then led Hermione to a different spot at the Gryffindor table, her friends following behind as the teachers took over cleaning up the pus that was meant to harm a fifteen year old girl just because she went to a ball with an international Quidditch star. Helping her to her seat, Viktor placed a kiss on her forehead before sitting next to her, something he planned on doing until they had to leave Hogwarts. With his boldness, several others from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had also started sitting at other tables during mealtimes, so the Great Hall was awash in color most days.
Days later, while reading the retraction the Prophet printed after he had sent in a scathing letter aimed at the Wizarding World as a whole for bullying a fifteen year old for going on a date with her soulmate, Viktor couldn't help but grin darkly, already knowing that after his family's lawyers and the British Aurors got through every single person that had dared to send hate mail to Hermione, everyone would be too afraid to hide behind their quill again.
Valentine's day that year was a Tuesday, but the Saturday before was a Hogsmeade weekend. Viktor had asked Hermione to accompany him into the village, and she, flattered, had said yes. The plan was to spend the morning together, and then to meet the boys and the rest of her friends at two in the afternoon for a late lunch. This way the couples would get more time together, and they would miss the usual lunch rush at the Three Broomsticks.
Hermione was in Heaven. They walked along the strip several times, popping in and out of stores and doing some general browsing. Viktor insisted on buying her sweets at Honeydukes.
"Sweets for my sweet," he said, dimpling. How could she say no to that?! They also visited Dervish and Banges to replenish some of her daily use school supplies, where even Viktor picked up a few more rolls of parchment. He was still attending classes, despite being Champion, and had to keep up with his work. It was his last year at school, after all, and winner of the Triwizard Tournament or not, he couldn't keep doing Quidditch for the rest of his life. He had plans to go into the family business along with his father and older brother, and needed a good foundation.
They had also ducked into Gladrags, and put a special order in for a hat and scarf set with Durmstrang colors, so Hermione could cheer for him and stay warm while doing so. Viktor gladly paid the three galleon price for the rush job to receive everything before Valentine's day.
"After all, we want to make sure you get it in plenty of time before the Second Task." Viktor then grabbed her hand and wandered into Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. Hermione put her foot down and insisted on buying her own replacement quills and ink, however unbeknownst to her, Viktor cataloged every single item she touched in interest, with the intent of coming back later and getting it for her for actual Valentine's day. He had been raised to spoil the women in his life, and he would make sure his soulmate would want for nothing.
All too soon, they were heading towards the Three Broomsticks, his arm around her shoulder with her tucked into his cloak, her own arm wrapped around his back in an embrace. They laughed together, and once they were in the doorway of the pub, Viktor paused, letting Hermione slip out from under his cloak to enter the door first. He grabbed the edge of the door as it swung open to hold it open for Hermione, but a blonde in their path stopped her short. Viktor reached higher on the door to pull the door wider, revealing a startled Draco Malfoy without his goons or perpetual limpet attached on his arm. A faint flush sparkled across his cheeks, but he didn't say a word. Malfoy merely ducked under Viktor's outstretched arm before scurrying away.
"What was that about?" Viktor asked aloud curiously. Hermione shrugged in response.
"I don't know. Let's head inside and see if one of our friends knows anything," she said before heading inside.
Harry was just emerging from the hallway where the bathrooms and the rentable private rooms were, his hair a little messier than usual. As he headed to a corner booth in the back, Viktor watched as the boy yawned before running his hand through his hair, making it even messier still. He slid into the booth, settling next to Ginny, who looked flushed, as if she had just stepped in from outside. It looked like Hannah and Neville were putting their drink orders in at the bar, but Ron wasn't there yet. The two made their way over to the table and they settled in, ready to have a fulfilling lunch filled with good friends, good food, and easy conversations.
Viktor awoke, feeling dread in the pit of his stomach. Today was February 24th, 1995, and it was the morning of the Second Task. He had solved the riddle of the golden egg by accident, when he had opened it on the deck of the ship and it had screeched. One of his classmates had tossed it overboard, to get away from the sound, and when Viktor dove in after it–after shoving his classmate appropriately–he had heard what the screeching had turned into.
Now, he had to worry about what the tournament organizers would take that he would sorely miss. Heading down to breakfast, where Hermione always greeted him, he frowned in confusion when he didn't spot her head of curls where she normally sat. Her boys coming up to him, asking her if he had seen her, made dread coil in his belly.
It wasn't what, but who the tournament organizers chose that he had to worry about.
What were they thinking?!
Hermione hadn't been thinking. She had woken up as soon as her head hit the surface of the water. Viktor had her in his arms, Cedric on his other side with Cho wrapped up in one arm. Gabrielle, Fleur's sister whom she had met last night in the Headmaster's office, was clasped between them, groggily waking up as they treaded water. Hermione remembered hearing Cedric say something about Fleur being attacked and unable to complete the task, so the two boys thought to grab her as well. Hermione's eyes sought out Viktor's, and without thinking, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his in their first kiss.
They had been taking it slow, so they wouldn't push against either of their boundaries, and it all had culminated into this one moment. Cedric gently tugged Gabrielle out of Viktor's grasp, which allowed the Bulgarian champion to wrap his arms around his witch. They parted a moment later, but Viktor leaned his forehead against hers. Hermione merely beamed brightly at him.
"Oh, hold on, you have a beetle in your hair," Viktor said, his fingers deftly plucking a jeweled beetle out of her curls. She looked at it curiously.
"It's February. Beetles shouldn't be awake right now," she commented just as Viktor crushed the beetle between his fingers. With a scream, suddenly a bottle blonde in green robes was on top of them, screaming in agony. Hermione shrieked, and Viktor pulled her away from the flailing woman. They headed for the dock where Cedric and Cho were helping a shivering Gabrielle out of the water.
"Rita Skeeter. How good of you to join us!" a woman with a monocle called out from the dock, already reaching for her wand. Hermione watched as she summoned Rita Skeeter's robes, gently dragging the waterlogged, apparently injured woman through the water towards her. "We've been looking for you!" Moments later had the vile reporter–who had reportedly been sacked when the paper realized that she wasn't reporting, merely speculating–out of the water and onto a stretcher, someone's stunning spell hitting her so she would go unconscious.
"She must have been an illegal animagus," Cho pointed out as Hermione and Viktor drew near. She huddled under a blanket. Fleur and Gabrielle stood nearby, Fleur clutching her sister tightly, wrapped in multiple blankets.
"I wonder how long she's been sneaking onto the grounds," Hermione said. She was distracted when she felt Viktor's finger gently brush her cheek.
"I was worried for you," he said softly, leaning down to brush a kiss on her nose. She gave a small smile to him.
"I gave my consent. To be honest, it flattered me that I would be the one you would sorely miss," she admitted shyly, ducking her head. Viktor used his hand to lift up her chin, so their eyes would meet.
"You are my soulmate. Of course you are the one I would miss the most," he replied honestly. With a happy sigh, Hermione smiled again, this time leaning in to meet his lips in another kiss.
Time flew by for the soulmates, with stolen moments in the hallways, dates amongst the castle and Hogsmeade, and general after class study sessions that had Viktor introducing his own friends to Hermione via letters he requested from them. Unfortunately his group of friends had not been selected to be in the contingent coming to Hogwarts, however Viktor was still eager to introduce her to them.
"When you and your parents come to visit in the summer, you can meet everyone! Nickolai is possibly my favorite. We've been friends since we were in diapers. His mother is my mother's best friend–" Hermione couldn't help but gaze fondly at him as he waxed poetic about his relationships at home. This. This was exactly what she hoped for when she had first heard that soulmates were real. Magic picked the best person for you, and it most certainly picked right when it came to her. With the warm June air surrounding them, Hermione couldn't help but sigh happily, her head on Viktor's shoulder as he, Harry, Ron, Sergei, and Dimitar boisterously chatted about the runes on broomsticks as they lounged by the edge of the lake. Inwardly, Hermione couldn't help but hope that the interest in the broomsticks might spur an interest in the subject itself. She knew Harry and Ron weren't as academically inclined, but if it had something to do with flying or Quidditch, Hermione knew they would be more enthusiastic about learning it.
I'll never understand those boys, she thought fondly, soaking up the conversation around her. The following day was the Final Task for the Triwizard Tournament, and Hermione's nerves were shot with worry. So she was just going to enjoy this day, one step at a time, and worry about tomorrow when it came. She would be meeting Viktor's parents and one of his sisters tomorrow, however. The families of the Champions were due to visit, and Hermione couldn't wait. She was curious about who raised her soulmate, and wanted to see for herself who it was that raised such an amazing man for her.
The noise of the group in front of her raised in volume, and she cracked open an annoyed eye to see what was going on. Ron remained, but Harry was sprinting back to the castle as one of the Durmstrang contingent was heading back to their ship.
"He's getting our brooms. We're going to do a quick friendly over the water, so if we fall, we won't get hurt," Ron commented, seeing her look. Hermione huffed.
"Boys," she muttered. "I suppose you'll be joining them in the air as well?" Hermione then added, her tone lighter as she looked up at Viktor. He gave her a small smile.
"If that is alright," he replied. Hermione nodded.
"Go right ahead! I am keeping my feet firmly planted on the ground, however. I'll just watch from here," she replied before giving a small laugh. His arm tightened around her, drawing her closer before he placed a kiss atop her curls.
"I hope you cheer for me," he replied before tilting her face up and placing a chaste kiss on her lips.
"Ew! Her brother is right here you guys!" Ron whined from his spot on the grass, and Sergei burst into laughter. Viktor and Hermione parted, matching blushes on their faces. Moments later saw Harry giving a loud whoop from the air as he swooped down, dropping Ron's broomstick at his feet seconds before Dimitar did the same with Sergei and Viktor's brooms.
"And that's your cue to go and play," Hermione commented, already pulling out a book from one of her many enchanted pockets. "Have fun!" She placed another chaste kiss on his lips, causing him to grin widely before taking to the sky for the five-man free for all. Hermione settled back onto the grass and tucked into her book, occasionally glancing up to check on her boys.
Tomorrow could wait. Today was more important.
Viktor panted as he rounded the corner in the maze. It had already been twenty minutes since he entered the maze, and since then he had encountered three area of effect jinxes or curses, a boggart, a thick-shelled crab-like monstrosity bigger than an Abraxan, and an Acromantula bigger than that. He paused for a moment to get his bearings, before taking a peek around the corner. There was a long corridor that opened up into a wider, box-like shape, and in the center of it, it looked to be a glinting light.
The Triwizard Cup.
With it within reach, Viktor took off, his legs burning in exertion. In his mind, he imagined himself alighting from the maze with the shimmering trophy, Hermione and his family waiting for him. He would receive a kiss from his soulmate, relish in the glory of being more than just a jock on a broom, and celebrate with those he's befriended in the past year.
His momentary distraction cost him. From the hedges in front of him, Viktor saw Cedric suddenly appear, terror on his face, occasionally shooting a spell behind him at something. Viktor slowed down and saw a gigantic snake, one at least five feet thick. It looked like a python, but Viktor wasn't as well versed on snakes as he was flying creatures. He would have stopped for a moment to think, but as the snake kept coming, easily already twenty feet long, he had a gut feeling that this snake was intending to eat Cedric if it caught him.
The snake lunged after the Hufflepuff, and Viktor flicked his wand to send a slicing hex at the snake. He suddenly had to dive out of the way as the snake's scales seemed to bounce spells right back at the caster. With a scowl, Viktor entered the final arena carefully, keeping an eye on where the snake's head was at all time.
A shriek from his right had Viktor looking, to find a partially transformed Fleur joining the fray. She began to lob fireballs at the snake, giving Cedric enough time to scramble over to where Viktor stood panting, the Hufflepuff full of scratches and bruises.
"It just started coming at me. I don't think this is meant to be an obstacle here," Cedric said.
"Well, since we're here, might as well take care of it, yeah?" Viktor replied. At Cedric's nod, Viktor continued. "It seems like spells don't work on it, like dragonhide."
"Aim for the eyes and mouth then?"
"Or use a melee weapon, like a sword or mace. We haven't tested whether it has hardened hide or not," Viktor then pointed out. He watched as Fleur took to the air, straining the upper limit of the ward on the maze preventing someone from going above the hedges.
"Hold on, that gives me an idea," Cedric said. "Cover me." He went over to the hedgewall and started to chop, getting a thicker woody branch from the base, using a quick cutting curse on it to pull it free. The stick was about as long as his arm, but it fit comfortably in his hand. Holding it in his offhand, Cedric began to chant over it. Viktor shot a quickly bludgeoning spell at the snake when it got too close to Fleur.
"Hurry up!" Viktor called out as the snake's eye caught on the two boys on the side. It ignored the panicked fireballs thrown by a nearly completely transformed Fleur, instead focusing all of its attention on Viktor who stood protecting the still enchanting Cedric.
"Done!" Cedric called out, stashing his wand to wield the sword he had just transfigured. He looked up at Viktor's alarmed shout, bringing the blade up and slicing into the snake as it lunged at him, missing him by mere centimeters. Cedric whirled around, sharing a quick glance with Viktor before they regrouped. Fleur gracefully landed behind them, and Viktor had half a thought to just turn and jump at the cup that was mere feet away from them, but he shook it free. He would stand his final ground with his fellow Champions, in the spirit of international cooperation. If anyone were to grab the cup, it would be all three of them at the same time. The snake lunged at them, and the three scattered. Cedric got just the right angle, slicing the snake's head off just after Fleur shot a fireball into the snake's gaping mouth, while Viktor positioned himself behind the snake, shooting off a bludgeoning charm at the snake, propelling it even further from them.
The beheaded snake's body clipped the Triwizard Cup, and it and the cup disappeared in a swirl of light.
After a few tense moments, the three champions eased up, realizing that it wouldn't be coming back. Viktor looked above head where the Champion's platform floated, where the cup would take whoever reached it first, but there was no cup up there, nor giant snake.
Fleur landed next to the two once more, shifting back into her human form.
"What 'appened?" Her voice was husky from her transformation, and had Viktor not already been soulbonded with Hermione, he knew he would have been affected by her allure.
"I don't know. What do we do now?" Cedric then asked. Viktor faced them, grim.
"Well, we can't get out. Sparks?" he asked. The other two nodded before the three lifted their wands in unison and sent up red sparks.
They didn't have to wait long, three of the marshals with red stars on their outfits appearing within seconds of them lowering their wands.
"What happened?" Professor McGonagall asked, noticing how beat up the champions looked, but no one was dying or heavily injured.
"We accidentally hit a giant snake into the cup and it portkey'd away. We haven't seen it since, Professor," Cedric replied. McGonagall frowned before summoning her Patronus, her pearly white housecat bounding away after she gave it instructions. Moments later saw Professor Dumbledore materializing in front of them. His expression looking grim as the three Champions explained what happened, Dumbledore nodded.
"Please escort these three to the Winner's platform. It looks like we have a three-way tie," he declared. Viktor, Cedric, and Fleur looked at each other, startled. "Now, I must go and check on where this wayward portkey went. It should not have left Hogwarts grounds." And with that, he Disapparated as only the Headmaster could do within Hogwarts.
After they left the maze, everything was a blur for Viktor. He remembered clasping the hands of his fellow Champions and raising them to a roaring crowd. He caught Hermione's eye, who smiled brightly at him, making his heart soar in delight. He made it out. He succeeded.
As the three winners of the Triwizard Tournament descended from the Winners Platform to their waiting families below, the rest of the stands beginning to empty, Professor Dumbledore reappeared, the unconscious body of a rat-like man before him and a tiny bundle of robes clutched to his chest. In his other hand was the Triwizard Cup. Professors and official looking adults swarmed Dumbledore, several Aurors approaching and blocking Viktor's view.
Suddenly, familiar curly brown hair filled his vision, and he immediately swept his soulmate up into a tight hug. Hermione squealed in delight, but hugged him just as tightly.
"You did it!" she exclaimed, her smile wide.
"For you," Viktor insisted before stealing a quick kiss. She beamed at him.
"But for you too," she replied. Cameras were suddenly in his face, and Viktor automatically turned towards them, giving them a surly look. Hermione poked his side, eliciting a small smile out of him just in time for a lightbulb to flash.
After it was revealed that the bundle of robes that Professor Dumbledore had brought back was a homunculus of the supposed to be dead Dark Lord Voldemort and his supposedly as dead follower Peter Pettigrew, time seemed to fly by. They were only able to spend three days together after the Final Task before he had to leave, and Hemione seemed to be weepy for all three of them.
"What is wrong, love?" Viktor asked as they took their customary walk around the lake. Hermione shot him a watery smile before burying her face in his chest. She mumbled something unintelligible, and at his questioning word, she lifted her head off of him and repeated it.
"I have to say goodbye to you tomorrow," she replied, her lower lip quivering. "Oh, I promised myself I wouldn't do this, but I just found you this year! What am I going to do without you? I'm going to miss you so much, and daily letters won't be the same thing as seeing you, face-to-face. Eating breakfast with you…walking with you…I just–"
Viktor kissed her, to give Hermione a moment to reboot her brain, and when they parted, the frantic look in her eyes had disappeared.
"You will live on without me. After all, it's not 'goodbye', it is merely 'see you later'," he replied. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Viktor continued on, not letting her work herself back up. "I am not dying, I am merely going home. We will have letters for the first two weeks, then you and your family will come visit me and my family. Then we will spend the rest of the summer together until my training begins in August–"
"Which is when I go back to England and spend time with the Weasleys and Harry," Hermione continued, a small smile on her face. "Look at you being all serious," she then added teasingly. "I thought I was supposed to be the calm logical one?" Viktor gave his own chuckle as he pulled her closer to him.
"You are. But you are allowed your off days," he replied back teasingly before he dipped his head and kissed her once more. Hermione sighed into the kiss.
Viktor's favorite part of this relationship was there was no urgency in it. They didn't need to quickly figure out whether it would last, or whether they should invest more time in the relationship for fear of wasting it. They were soulmates. This is what Fate, or Magic, or any other higher power that paired soulmates together had destined for them.
Viktor gathered Hermione up in his arms and held her close, her own arms coming up to encircle his back. Breathing in the scent of her shampoo, he buried his face in her curls.
Like he had said earlier, it wasn't goodbye, because they would see each other again. He could wait. They had all the time in the world.