A week had passed since Viktor's tête-à-tête with Harry Potter. Much to Viktor's discontent, Harry had not come near him in the following week. He surmised that he must have done something that night to upset him, but for some reason, he didn't feel like venturing out to find out why Harry had been so avoidant of him. He spent most of his time these days sitting in the back of the Hogwarts library and sleeping in his private quarters in the Durmstrang ship.

He was quite bored, actually. No school work had been arranged for the students while they spent the year at Hogwarts. For his classmates that had also tried their chance at the Triwizard Tournament, they just sat around doing, well, nothing. Viktor wasn't pleased at this. He preferred to stay vigorous and fervently outgoing - he had been brought up this way, so he supposed that this reaction to the other's taking a natural 'lax' to the fact they now have a year to do whatever they wished.

Sometimes, he wished he was one of them, though. Right out of the gate as him being picked as Durmstrang's champion, he had already began to loathe being Igor Karkaroff's 'number one boy'. It was clear to everyone that Karkaroff clearly favoured Krum, even before becoming Durmstang champion, due to him being a renowned quidditch player. Krum sometimes felt weighed down by the pressure that his headmaster placed upon his shoulders. Knowingly or unknowingly, Viktor never knew. After his first encounter with Harry Potter, once he got back to the ship, Karkaroff was adamant to let Viktor know that he would find out absolutely everything he could to help ensure Viktor was the sole winner and to make sure that he was the one to present to the wizarding world that Dumbledore can be one-upped.

Viktor had noticed that in his time, very few people came into the library. The people who did, however, seemed to come every day, multiple times a day. One person, in particular, was a girl who looked similar in height to Harry Potter. She had large and bushy brown hair. She never talked, and he hadn't ever seen her come in with anyone else. This was natural, he supposed. Libraries are meant for reading in silence.

He was shocked to find she had never looked at him twice though. Most Hogwarts girls, and men, had seemingly idolized him and a large majority of the students would pester him as he made his way to the library everyday. Even groups of girls followed him in there and it became clear to him that each one felt that they were 'entitled' to an autograph from him, for whatever reason.

Admittedly, he liked the attention. He was glad he a model quidditch player. The question crossed his mind at times though - would anyone even give him a second glance if he wasn't who he was? It's a thought that lingered on his conscious at times, but he liked to shove it to the back - he's admired for a reason, he supposed. He should be happy for what he has achieved.

He just wished Harry would come near him soon. Even though they had known for such little time, he missed him.

Harry was sitting in a History of Magic, dazed and daydreaming. A vivid imagination came into his mind of Dudley being unable to be lifted by the Wingardium Leviosa spell, so Mad-Eye Moody had conjured a crane to lift him. Harry was sat, watching it all from a few feet away. He didn't question why exactly this was happening. Mad-Eye Moody had never even encountered Dudley before in his life, so as to why he was doing was unbeknownst to Harry.

He wondered where Dudley was being lifted to as the crane didn't stop going up, and up, and up…

WHACK.

"Harry!" Hermione grunted under her breath. Harry was awoke with a snore and saw that Hermione was staring round at him, prodding him with a small hand of hers. He quickly figured out that this wasn't a kind gesture, however. It was clear that the prod was soon going to turn into a shove. He sat up in his seat.

"What happened?" Harry was confused. He didn't even know what class he was in. He looked towards the front and saw the ghost of Professor Binns scribbling away on the board, talking aimlessly to the class Harry was sure he hadn't looked at even once during the lesson. He was at least happy it wasn't in a class like Potions, where Snape would have pranced at the opportunity to take away house points from Gryffindor and give him a multitude of detentions.

"You're asleep in the middle of class! It's so disrespectful to Professor Binns!" Hermione crossed her arms furiously and went back to jotting down notes as she muttered under her breath, "Absolutely unbelievable, now I'm behind by a minute on my notes on the discovery of Grindylows…"

Harry rolled his eyes at Hermione's dilemma. Any exam they had ever taken in Hogwarts, Hermione was always at the top of every class and he was sure missing a minute of what Professor Binns was saying wouldn't hurt her in the long run. In fact, it'd probably help her. Harry just always assumed Hermione had a billion and a half books crammed inside her brain she could easily access whenever she liked.

That was only a joke, of course. Harry admired the intelligence of Hermione.

"How long until this class is over, Hermione…?" Harry yawned, glancing around the room for a clock, not taking into account that this classroom would probably be the last place on earth he'd check for anything technological if he hadn't just awoke from his slumber. He also forgot that he had a perfectly fine watch on his wrist at all times.

"It'll be done in five minutes, Harry. You'd know that if you didn't sleep throughout this entire lesson, wouldn't you?" she said, in a snarky tone. Harry huffed under his breath, thinking she was a bit unreasonable now.

Harry hadn't got much peace lately.

Once being announced as a fourth champion for the Triwizard Tournament, his reputation in the school shot up with some and crashed to the depths of to the earth with some others. He wasn't sure why this had happened. He'd tell anyone who'd listen that he didn't submit his name and didn't want to compete in the tournament to begin with.

He couldn't walk in between classes without someone hollering at him, whether it was a compliment or insult, he didn't care. To be truthful, the thing that hurt the most was the fact that he didn't even have his own best friend, Ron Weasley, in his corner anymore. Harry had attempted to tell Ron again that he hadn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire, but it was to no avail. Ron simply didn't want to hear.

Harry glanced about the classroom and saw Ron with his head down in a book, near the front, far away from both Hermione and himself. Harry gritted his teeth, resisting an urge to go over and smack him around the head for being so stupid and not believing Harry when Harry would never lie to him about something like this. Harry would have believed Ron if it had happened to him. Harry didn't ask for these things to happen to him, they just did and Harry felt Ron's jealousy wasn't valid. Didn't he think Harry wanted to lead a normal school life?

Not all attention is good attention, thought Harry. This was exactly one of those times. His school life, being the only real life he had since his repugnant life with the Dursley's, had always been bridled with undesired attention. People assumed Harry wanted all this, but that couldn't be further from the truth - aching pains in his scar, nightmares related to Voldemort, having no mum or dad - it wasn't a fun life. Harry wanted people to try and live in his shoes for one day. He could tell they wouldn't make it, or like it.

The bell rang, issuing out the ending of the class.

Harry got up from his seat, catching Professor Binns from the side of his eye slipping through the wall his whiteboard sat on. He was most likely heading toward the staff room. He wondered if this made him happy - not passing on to wherever you go after your life ends, just to teach uninterested students and lounge about the staff room.

That wasn't really Harry's business, though.

He was among the first people to leave the class. He hadn't even waited for Hermione. The anger that had brewed up inside him was really getting to him and he wanted to shake some sense into Ron, but he was adamant now in waiting for Ron to talk to him. Harry hadn't done anything wrong - he reminded himself, he didn't ask for this and it was insensitive of Ron to think he wanted something like this.

Of course, he had visions of seeing himself holding the trophy, showing the validation that he had rightfully won the tournament. Those, of course, were only visions - not reality. Even now, that he was entered into this tournament, it was still only a vision. He was up against some of the toughest wizards he knew.

This reminded him, though. He hadn't seen Viktor in a week.

For some reason, after the events of their night in the grounds together, something bubbled inside Harry. He couldn't quite put his finger on what he felt - confused was what sprang to mind. He wouldn't be entirely truthful if he didn't admit to the fact that he was jealous of Viktor - people only sang his praises, and that was because he was a famous quidditch player. In a way, he supposed he was taking out his inner demons on Viktor.

As Harry made his way down the grand staircase, he stopped on the second floor and opened the wooden doors, entering into the floor, but not before taking a few glances behind him as to make sure no one could see what he was up to. He didn't know why he felt the need to take these precautions as he wasn't sure anyone else knew about Viktor being in the library apart from himself and regular library goers, which were few and far between.

He slipped into the corridor and looked at the brass doors to his right and left. Down one corridor to the right, he saw the entrance to the out of order Girls Bathrooms that was haunted by Moaning Myrtle, a girl murdered in the toilets fifty two years ago. Harry could recall saying he'd visit her more after his second year in which he, Ron and Hermione had made an arduous and difficult potion named the Polyjuice Potion. He hadn't done that though. He made a mental note to say hi sometime, but forgot within minutes as he came face to face with the entrance to the library.

He walked in through the entrance and ambled towards the back of the library, where he had met Viktor just a week ago. To his delight, he found Viktor pressed over a table, reading a book Harry couldn't tell the contents of.

Harry edged his way over to Viktor and found that he was quite confused. Harry wouldn't say he was a shy type, but for some reason, his typical way with words and how to convey them left him as he looked at Viktor a slight bit away in the library, recognising that Viktor still hadn't noticed he was there in the room with him.

He cracked his fingers and walked over to him and waved his hand awkwardly, saying with a rather lacking in confidence tone in his voice, "Hey, Viktor. Sorry I haven't been near you in awhile… school stuff. Y'know?"

Viktor glanced up immediately and he beamed. He stood up and threw out his right hand, gesturing for Harry to shake it. "Harry! I have been wondering where you have been hiding. Just joking, of course." a sly grin couldn't help but purse itself on his lips and Harry felt the affection spread to his own features also.

"Yeah, hiding is definitely what I'd say to describe what I've been doing as well." Harry didn't quite meet Viktor's glance as he said this. Viktor furrowed his brow and spoke in a casual tone, "Why would you need to be hiding? Is something going wrong in your classes?"

Harry contemplated his answer for a moment. He wasn't sure if he should be honest with Viktor or just lie and say he was fine. He had only known him for a little over a week, but the fact was, with the exception of Hermione, he was probably the person being most kind to him right now. Harry decided to dip into edging out Viktor's sympathy.

"Just people mocking me for being a champion. Even my own best friend won't talk to me now. He doesn't believe me when I tell him I didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire. Barely anyone does. It's frustrating." Harry balled his hands into fists and kept his head down towards the floor.

Viktor didn't reply immediately. He twiddled his thumbs for a little bit before speaking in a slow, mellow tone, "Ah, but there words matter, none, you see? Those who do not believe you, are they really your friends? It is an honour to be a champion and if it was truly illegal for you to play in the tournament, your professor would have forcefully removed you. He did not, no?"

Harry perked up slightly, "No, I suppose Dumbledore didn't."

"Exactly. That must mean he has confidence in you. So you should have confidence in yourself. I do not know about your life at Hogwarts, but if there's any way I can assist, please do not hesitate to ask me." Viktor laughed heartily, giving Harry a firm pat on the back.

Then, he suddenly said, "Oh, also. If you see Professor Karkaroff, our headmaster of Durmstrang, do not make him aware of our friendship. I don't think he would be too approving of it. He is not a fan of Dumbledore or his students, you see."

"Oh, really?" Said Harry, trying to look shocked. Although, he could feel this aura radiate from Karkaroff from the few moments he had been around him. He seemed to levitate a great air of negative energy. Harry definitely had felt the energy be sucked out of the trophy room when the attention had turned to Karkaroff and his disdain for Harry's participation in the tournament. "Yeah, don't worry about it. I don't think your headmaster and I see eye to eye on a lot of things as it is."

Harry noticed Viktor refused to comment on the matter. He didn't fault him for this - he supposed he didn't want to talk bad about his headmaster. Harry couldn't help but verify in his mind though, that if Viktor talked bad about Dumbledore, it wouldn't please Harry at all.

A sudden idea sparked in Harry's mind

"Hey, Viktor. I don't suppose you'd let me take you up on your offer now, would you?"

Viktor glanced at Harry and said, "What is it you're looking for me to do?"

"Walk around the school with me. When I go to my classes, I mean. People would act different if they saw you around me. It'd be a nice change from what I've went through this week." said Harry, a small huff in his voice.

"Alright. I don't mind. I'd like to explore this castle anyway. It is very big, much larger than Durmstrang. I can assume it has many secrets inside its walls." A small blush took place on Viktor's cheeks, "Maybe you didn't expect it, but I really love exploring. It's why I first became enamoured with a broom. I wanted to explore the world on one."

Harry was surprised at this sudden revelation - it was rather innocuous, and not something he expected of Viktor. Every time they talked, Harry got a little more surprised at how lighthearted Viktor was - he certainly didn't look lighthearted, but maybe this was better as it made Harry have a good peace of mind getting to know him more.

"Yeah, LOADS of secrets. I don't mind showing you around now, if you want. You can lead the way and I'll tell you if there's anywhere we shouldn't go while you explore, I guess." This was certainly different than what Harry had envisioned Viktor Krum to be like as he watched him do the most insane and innovative tricks on a broom at the Quidditch World Cup. Harry wasn't complaining, though.

He liked this vulnerable side of Viktor. He was glad he wasn't afraid to show who he truly was.

"How about we start from top to bottom, Harry? Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine, we'll be starting on the seventh floor then. Let's go."

The two walked out of the library walking side by side, rather quiet as they made their way up the Grand Staircase. It was completely deserted, just like it had been when he had left History of Magic. He didn't mind though. He enjoyed the time with Viktor now.

After a couple of minutes, the duo entered into the corridor of the sixth floor and navigated the steps to the seventh floor. However, before they were able to do any exploring, Harry gritted his teeth and groaned internally as he saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle come down from the North Wing.

"Well look who it is, Gryffindor's little champion. Who's this with you, then? A member of your fanclub?"

Malfoy hadn't quite registered the fact standing beside him, now clutching the wand in the side of his trousers, was none other than Viktor Krum. When he did realise he moved backwards a little, behind Crabbe and Goyle. A muffled whisper could barely be heard between the three, however it wasn't distinct. Harry didn't move or do anything.

"You're lucky you're there with the big Bulgarian boy, Potter. If you weren't, I'd show you what we do to Triwizard champions of Gryffindor… let's go boys." and with that, the trio stalked away, making sure to speed up quickly as they passed by Viktor as he had his wand out and seemed completely ready to strike if they put a toe out of line.

"Basically, that's how my week has been going." sighed Harry.

"Very nasty little men. Do not worry, as long as I am here, no one will touch you."

"That's... you don't know how much I appreciate you, Viktor. You've been the nicest person to me ever since this whole thing happened. Thanks, I guess."

Harry flushed red, feeling the emotions he felt last week after they said goodbye all over again. He had time to think about these feelings - and maybe he'd confront them now.

"Viktor?" said Harry.

"Yes, Harry?" replied Viktor.

"There's something I have to ask... just, don't get mad if you don't like what I'm going to say."

"Go ahead, Harry. You know I don't judge. I'm not like some of the vermin that prowl your corridors." he shot nastily, glancing towards the door the Slytherin trio had left through.

"Do you feel the same way I do?"

"Harry..."

BANG.

/ A/N: Hi there! I would very much appreciate any and all reviews left on this work, as it motivates me to continue this series.. Apologies for the delay between the chapters. Also, for the curious, I am crossposting this fic to AO3. Have a lovely day.