Christmas morning came sooner than Hermione had hoped for. She had been enjoying spending time with her parents. She liked that she could speak and not have half a dozen people groan. And she especially loved the sweets her mother let her sneak.
Both of Hermione's parents were dentists. It was a great job, but they had developed strong opinions on snacks over the years. But Christmas was one of the few times that Hermione could get away with eating things that she knew weren't the best for her teeth.
And she liked that her parents were intrigued enough to ask her to explain things. It was frustrating that no one at school, even the other muggleborns, were as interested in magic as Hermione was. But she wasn't in charge of other people.
She woke bright and early that morning, much the same way she did each and every morning. It wouldn't do to get out of the habit. She stretched and headed down to the kitchen for breakfast. As she expected, her parents were eating breakfast and talking about something.
She listened with half an ear. She didn't really care about teeth the same way they did. But the familiar lilt of Greek words sounded comforting, no matter the subject matter.
"Breakfast first, I'm guessing," she said in Greek.
"You'd be right," her mother said.
Hermione sat down at the table, and dished up food onto her plate. Scrambled eggs with cheese were one of her favourites. She savoured each bite of her food, but only got halfway through her plate before she heard a knock on the door.
"Are we expecting company?" she asked
Her parents shared a look. Hermione wasn't sure if it was guilt or something else. Whatever it was, it looked suspicious.
"Why don't you answer the door, dear?" her father said to her mother. He had switched to English. Company it was.
"Why didn't you tell me before now?" Hermione cried. She dashed up the stairs. She didn't want to be seen by anyone in her pajamas.
It was likely a strange habit. After all, she shared a dormitory with five other girls. They had all seen her pajamas. But Hermione didn't wander around the common room in anything less than full dress, unlike practically everyone else. She didn't like the feeling.
Once she had put on jeans and a jumper, she pulled her hair into a knot at the base of her head. That way it was out of her face. For all the trouble her hair gave her, she still hated having it in her face. She had just secured it and was on her way down the stairs when she saw the figure in the doorway.
"Viktor!" She launched herself at him, flinging her arms around him in the biggest hug she could manage. "How did you get here?"
"Arranged international portkey. Took lots of planning," he said simply.
"Why didn't you tell me he was coming?" Hermione bemoaned to her parents.
"He asked us not to," her father said. "And it turned out to be the most surprising present anyone could think of for you."
"Besides," her mother added, "the look on your face was one of pure joy."
"Fine," she grumbled. Hermione wished that someone had told her to get dressed, but she couldn't hide her happiness. She figured that it would be one of her favourite Christmases ever.
"Vhy don't ve open presents," Viktor suggested.
"There's more?" Hermione asked. Her jaw dropped. "My best friend in the entire world comes to visit, and there's more?"
"You don't think that we'd let you go to boarding school and not want to come home?" her mother teased her. "We couldn't risk you leaving us."
"I don't think I'll be able to go back to school at this rate," Hermione mumbled.
"Is good you live in England," Viktor said. "Hogvarts is good school. And close. You vill be able to visit family often. Even if I vant you to come to Durmstrang."
Hermione smiled. She knew that Viktor liked spending time with her. But she also knew that if his quidditch friends found out that his best friend was a first year, he would never hear the end of it. Same if her friends, especially Ron, ever found out that she was friends with Viktor Krum.
Ron knew everything about quidditch. And Harry was picking it up fast. Of course, Harry had to since he was the Gryffindor seeker. And Hermione knew way more than she was letting on. She was supposed to be the bookworm. And she did prefer to watch quidditch as opposed to playing it.
But everyone at Hogwarts knew that Viktor Krum was being scouted to be the youngest professional player in decades. It was all some of the more obsessed kids talked about. Although, most preferred teams that were closer to home. Ron's favourite team being the Chuddley Cannons. Who even Hermione knew to be horrible.
"You know my parents won't let me do that," she said.
Her parents shared a look. They had moved to England before Hermione was born, and had little intention of leaving anytime soon. But, that didn't mean that they were against the idea of Hermione leaving the country if she wanted to.
Part of the reason that they were so insistent on taking her to Greece every summer wasn't that they felt she needed to visit her grandparents. That was a part of it. But the larger part was that they knew that Hermione needed to experience as much of the world as she could. It made a person more compassionate.
With her intelligence, Hermione could do so much. And her parents knew that no matter how much a person could do, doing good was always the best choice. They tried their best, but they had learnt that their greatest legacy would be their daughter.
If she figured that she could learn how to be a better person at Durmstrang, they would have sent her there in a heartbeat. But she wanted to go to Hogwarts. And even though Viktor grumbled a little in his good-natured way, he didn't fight her on that.
The Grangers wondered what Viktor had said to Hermione. He had told her so many things about the schools. And Hermione had trusted his advice almost implicitly. If he had warned her about Durmstrang, she would avoid it.
"So, you got all the way to England," Hermione said. "Why?"
Viktor shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. "Vanted to see you. Seemed like a good reason."
Hermione couldn't hide the blush that stained her cheeks, or the grin that seemed to be causing it. "You should have told me. I wouldn't have worried as much over not getting a letter from you."
Viktor reached into one of his pockets and took out a roll of parchment. "Haff letter here."
Hermione took it from him. "I'll read that later. You can talk to me now."
She set the parchment on one of the end tables next to the sofa and took a seat. She motioned for Viktor to also take a seat. He fiddled awkwardly with his jacket, pulling out a package before sitting.
"For you," he said.
Hermione didn't take it. "You already came all this way. I can't take that. It's too much."
"Hermione," her mother said. "We have a gift for Viktor. You can take it."
"I have a gift for Viktor," Hermione said. "That doesn't mean I can take this. I know that gifts aren't supposed to be an equal exchange. But I can't."
"I vant you to haff it," Viktor said. "Besides, it has all answers you asked for in your letter."
Hermione reluctantly took the package. She liked knowledge more than anything. And Viktor was offering it freely. She was certain that the gift was a book. But she still felt indebted to him.
She put it down on the coffee table and ran up to her room. She grabbed the package she had wrapped. She had intended to send it, with a very long apologetic letter for getting it to Viktor later than she intended. But he hadn't quite sent her owl back yet.
At least now she could give it to him on time. And in person. That was probably the best part of the holiday.
She bounded back down the stairs, taking them two at a time. She handed the smoothly wrapped box to Viktor. She watched nervously as he removed the wrapping paper.
Inside the box lay one of the oldest copies of all the possible fouls in quidditch. After one particularly gruesome game in centuries past, it was forbidden to write them all down. Hermione had found it in a secondhand bookshop while in Diagon Alley and had immediately though of Viktor. And so, she had kept if for Christmas.
"This is…" Viktor trailed off. "Should not exist," he whispered.
The next thing Hermione knew, she was in a bone crushing hug. She knew then that she had gotten Viktor a present he liked. She had worried about that.
The rest of the presents were exchanged and Viktor and Hermione were conversing about the book he had given her. Wrapping paper was strewn about the living room. It was a colourful sight. And it was one of the best Christmas memories either Hermione or Viktor had.
They talked though the rest of the day and dozed off on the sofa. Mr. and Mrs. Granger draped blankets over them, smiling knowingly.
A/N: So I think this is the longest chapter in the story so far. Sorry if I got a little rambly. I think I did. Hope you guys like this.