Chapter 57

Despite not being enough to completely clear out his feeling of emptiness and failure, renewing his alliance with Potter improved Viktor's mood considerably. Just like the previous time they had shook hands, it had felt right, and it had instantly made him feel a lot less alone. Of course his heart still ached whenever he thought of the girl that was slipping through his fingers like unholdable water, but he found the agony easier to bear now that he could lose himself in the wind again with a silent ally flying at his side.

Not wanting anything to spoil his inner peace, he didn't broach the Fleur subject with Potter immediately. Part of that was, he had to admit it, the dark pleasure that it gave him to make her wait and squirm. Mostly, however, he knew that once she entered the alliance things would inevitably change, Fleur no doubt would ruin their quiet dynamic with her exuberance, and he sort of wanted to keep Potter to himself for a few more days.

There was no rush. The third task was almost four months away, and they wouldn't even know what it was about until May. Of course Viktor didn't intend to spend the next three months lazing around, the time would be extremely useful to teach Potter some advanced Defence and other valuable skills, but they could afford to relax a bit. They certainly needed a break after the stressful month they had spent preparing for the second task.

He also didn't immediately go back to sit at the Gryffindor table with Potter, although that was harder for him to resist. Without anything to research or plan yet, it wasn't really necessary for him and Potter to spend every available moment together, and Viktor didn't want to impose his company on Hermione if it made her uncomfortable, so he stayed away for the moment. That distance saddened him, but at least he could amuse himself knowing that Fleur (and everyone) was watching them from across the Hall in an obvious attempt to figure out whether they were still allies or not.

Even if he had felt ready to deal with Fleur or clarify the state of his uncertain relationship with Hermione, he probably wouldn't have had the time during the next few weeks. Sneaking out to fly for an hour or two most every night was pretty much all the idleness he could afford at the moment, since he was having a lot of difficulty catching up with all the assignments he had neglected in the weeks leading up to the second task. Potter and Hermione —and their friend— also seemed very busy whenever he saw them in the library, so he figured it wasn't a good moment to distract the girl anyway.

For now, it was enough with having his ally back and being able to once again enjoy flying in companionable silence. Sometimes they even talked, although they had implicitly agreed not to talk about the Tournament unless they absolutely had to.

One night, Viktor told the story of how he had been recruited for the national team, and Potter reciprocated with the story of how he had ended up playing Quidditch for his House at eleven years old. The kid told him about his first broom, a Nimbus 2000 that had been destroyed by a Whomping Willow, and explained that his current Firebolt had been an anonymous gift from a presumed mass murderer, which was why the teachers hadn't allowed him to fly on it until after they had stripped it down to check it for curses. Viktor didn't find surprizing to hear that evil wizards might send Harry Potter cursed objects (although a Firebolt was too expensive a broom for that purpose), but he was puzzled when Potter said that the broom hadn't been cursed at all. On second thought, however, he didn't find surprizing either that anonymous people might send expensive gifts to Harry Potter.

Although his own history with brooms wasn't nearly as interesting, Viktor enumerated as many as he could remember having through his life, and told about the time he and some schoolmates had flown all the way to Greenland and back without anyone in Durmstrang even suspecting they were out of bed. He heard in exchange the story of how Potter and his redhead friend had flown to Hogwarts in an enchanted muggle car and broken the Statue of Secret, to then crash against the same Whomping Willow and let the car loose in the Forbidden Forest (it was still there, apparently, and it had rescued them from a nest of Acromantulas, but that was a story for another day, had said Potter with a mysterious smile).

Another night, he tried to teach Potter a few words of Bulgarian, to no avail (after half an hour his ally declared that he would very much rather learning Mermish), and was offered in return a short course on the correct pronunciation of Hermione's name (unfortunately that was all the help Potter was willing or able to provide him regarding his friend).

"Can you conjure or transfigure a jar?" asked Potter out of nowhere one night when they were taking a break on their usual spot.

"What sort of jar?"

"A glass jar, generic, about this size if possible," said the kid gesticulating with his hands as if he were holding an imaginary object.

"Does it need a thread?" asked Viktor, deciding to go along even though he had no idea what his ally was up to.

"No, it just has to be glass," he thought for a moment. "Heat-resistant glass."

Puzzled, Viktor took out his wand and transfigured a jar from sand. He didn't do a perfect job without a defined image in his mind, but Potter seemed satisfied with it because he positioned it on the ground in front of him and took out his own wand. A few muttered charms later, blue flames had erupted and had been stored inside the jar, casting an eerie light between them.

"It's Hermione's specialty," said Potter with a smirk. "Portable and waterproof. She once set one teacher's robes on fire with this."

Viktor raised his eyebrows with interest and examined the flames more closely. It was interesting charm work, but what really captured his attention was what Potter had said about Hermione.

"Why would she set a teacher's robes on fire?" he asked curiously. She seemed like the type who would never dare disrespecting her teachers in any way, least of all assaulting them.

"She thought he was trying to kill me," explained Potter. "It was in my first year, when someone was cursing my broom during a Quidditch match. Hermione saw Snape muttering without breaking eye contact with me, so she tried to distract him with the fire."

"Snape?" repeated Viktor, even more interested. "He wasn't really trying to kill you, was he?"

"No," grimaced Potter, as if he wished it had been the other way around. "It turned out he was trying to save my life, actually, muttering a countercurse."

Viktor's curiosity was beyond picked. He had been fascinated by Potter's intense relationship with the Potions Professor since that night in the Infirmary.

"What is your story with that man?" he couldn't resist asking. "Why do you hate him?"

"He hates me," snapped Potter angrily. "He hated my dad, and apparently I look just like him so he hated me too from the first time he saw me."

"Then why did he save your life?"

"Because he owed my dad a life debt, and he didn't want to owe him anything. That's squared, though, now there's nothing stopping him from killing me instead. Except the Goblet, but that will turn off eventually..." Potter scowled into the darkness. "I always knew that he hated me, but after my first year I had stopped fearing that he wanted to kill me. It turns out I was right, though, he was always Voldemort's servant, and he must really want to kill me for defeating him when I was a baby."

Viktor shook his head.

"I do not think he wants you dead," he opined. "He worries about you."

Potter snorted.

"He hates me," he repeated.

"The article said he is a spy," pointed out Viktor. "In his place, I too would make sure everyone knew I hate Harry Potter."

The kid hesitated, considering his words for a moment, but then shook his head.

"No, he really hates me," he said with certainty. "No one is that good an actor."

Viktor thought that an expert Legilimens and Occlumens could easily make anyone believe anything, but he didn't said it out loud. He had seen the Potions Professor glowering at Potter, and he had to admit that the hate looked more than real enough. Viktor had seen the concern too, however.

"When you almost drowned," he began. "I took you to the Infirmary. The nurse called the Transfiguration teacher first, who was very worried about you. But then the Potions Professor came, and he was beyond worried. I saw his face. He was afraid. The nurse tried to calm him down telling him that you were fine, but he kept staring at you in worry as if to make sure you were breathing. And then he almost murders me when he thought I had harmed you."

Potter was staring at him with plain skepticism in his eyes.

"It was all an act," he said. "Like you said, he's a spy, he has to pretend not to want his students dead, especially me. That's how he keeps Dumbledore fooled, doing things like slipping me a bezoar, or pretending to care whether I fly over the Forbidden Forest, or whether I drown..."

"It sounds like he looks out for you," said Viktor.

"He's out to get me more often," countered the kid. "Does everything in his power to make me miserable and get me expelled." He stopped to regard him with a suspicious frown. "Why are you defending Snape? He's an evil bastard! Don't you remember when he threatened you in the Infirmary? And he tortured my dog, twice. He tried to get an innocent man kissed by Dementors last year. He terrorized Neville to the point that his Boggart is Snape. He mocked Hermione's overgrown teeth and made her cry when someone hexed her outside his classroom a few months ago. He embarrassed her by reading that stupid article out loud in class the other day. He threatened to chain her cat to the dungeon's floor and break its bones like he did to my dog. He always calls her 'Know-It-All' and looks down on her because she's Muggle-born!"

Arguing with Potter was dangerous in addition to pointless, decided Viktor. The kid was determined to hate the Potions Professor, and he was using Viktor's weak point —Hermione— to try and make him hate the man too. Viktor had witnessed and experienced himself just how unpleasant the Professor could be, so he knew Potter wasn't lying nor even exaggerating, and he had no doubt that he had only been given the headlines. And it certainly was hard not to want to curse the evil bastard after hearing that he had been the one to make Hermione cry for her overgrown teeth.

The Potions Professor was definitely a nasty person, Viktor would never think to argue against that (although at least part of his general mistreatment of students probably could be explained as an evil role to maintain). The man might also truly hate Potter. But Albus Dumbledore believed he was on Harry Potter's side, and Viktor was inclined to believe the same.

"I just think," he said finally in a cautious, conciliatory tone, "that he might have his reasons to protect you, even if he hates you. There are plenty of people who dislike you and yet prefer you alive because of what you represent."

"Gee, thanks," said Potter dryly. "But I think I represent everything that Snape hates."

"There must be a reason why Albus Dumbledore trusts him," observed Viktor.

The kid sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

"I'm sick of this," he grumbled. "I just wish I knew for sure which side the greasy git is on. But I guess nobody will really know until he murders Dumbledore or something like that."

Or until he murders Harry Potter, reflected Viktor. Not that that seemed likely to him. He would never forget the look of concern in the man's dark eyes when he had seen the nearly drowned Potter lying on an Infirmary bed.

They had subsided into silence, both staring absently at the blue flames. For a while Viktor continued turning around inside his head the mystery that was the Potions Professor, but eventually his thoughts drifted back to Hermione.

"How was she punished?" he asked after several quiet minutes. It took a moment for Potter to disentangle himself from his own thoughts and look at him in confusion.

"Who?"

"Hermione," clarified Viktor, indicating the jar with a wave of his hand and feeling proud for his almost perfect pronunciation. "She must have been punished for the fire."

He had seen the Potions Professor torturing Potter's dog when the animal had bitten him, he couldn't imagine he would go much easier on a student who set him on fire. At the very least she must have received a very ugly detention.

Potter smirked.

"He never found out," he said smugly. "He also never knew that Hermione stole from him in our second year."

Viktor raised his eyebrows again.

"That is a facet of Hermione I have trouble imagining," he admitted. "She seems very correct and respectful of her teachers."

"She is. But she's also a Gryffindor," said Potter proudly. "Most of the time she refuses to break even the smallest rule, but when it really matters... I don't think she fears anything so much as getting expelled, and yet she was brave enough to risk that every single year so far by doing what she thought was right." He smirked to himself. "Of course, it took a troll to get her priorities right, before that she thought getting expelled was worse than dying."

"A troll?" asked Viktor curiously.

"Yeah, she sort of got locked up with one in her first year, Ron and I went to search for her and knocked out the disgusting thing. That's how we became friends. She lied to the teachers about what had happened, so we wouldn't be punished for running after a troll."

Viktor stared at his young ally for a long moment before shaking his head in a mixture of disbelief and frustration and fear. He shivered at the thought of Hermione trapped with a troll when she was only a first year student. How close had that been? And how could Potter have knocked out such creature when he was also a first year student? No doubt he had done something suicidal and stupid, not thinking about anything except about rescuing the girl.

What Viktor was feeling more strongly at the moment, however, was envy. Potter and the redhead had been Hermione's friends for years, and it was obvious that they had shared a lot of deeply bonding experiences, beginning with almost getting torn apart by a troll. They knew a side of the girl that Viktor hadn't even suspected.

Viktor had already known that Potter and Hermione were close. He hadn't worried too much about it since he had clarified that article after the first task, and even less since he had gotten to know Potter and confirmed that the kid didn't seem to look at his friend as anything more than a friend. He hadn't worried about the last article either, knowing it was just that annoying reporter trying to cause trouble (he actually suspected it had been an attempt to break their alliance, using Hermione as intermediary target since it couldn't be printed anything related to the alliance itself). He didn't exactly like knowing that, if she had to choose, she would choose her friend over Viktor, but he understood the loyalty that Potter could inspire so he respected that.

It made him uneasy, however, and admittedly jealous, to think that Hermione and the redhead might have been equally close.

He sighed.

"It sounds like you and your friends got into a lot of trouble together," he observed, trying to leave bitterness out of his voice. "What was the worst you did?"

The fact that Potter took so long to think his answer suggested that, indeed, the kid had a lot of trouble in his record to select from.

"I don't know..." he said finally, still thoughtful. "The worst punishment was definitely what we got for being out after curfew that time in first year when we smuggled a baby dragon out of Hogwarts. We lost a hundred and fifty points and got detention in the Forbidden Forest, and that without McGonagall believing we really had a dragon."

"You... had a baby dragon here?" asked Viktor hesitantly. He knew for a fact that breeding dragons was forbidden in Britain.

Potter smirked.

"Yeah. His name was Norbert. We sent him to Romania before our friend Hagrid could get in trouble for having a dragon as pet... or before it could burn down his wooden house." He sighed sadly. "Brewing Polyjuice in a girls' bathroom during our second year probably would have caused us a lot of trouble too, but no one ever found out about that. And I don't think it really counts the trouble we got into at the end of each year... Hermione would probably say that the worst we ever did was to attack Snape last year, but personally I think the git deserved it and even she agreed that it had to be done. A man's soul was a stake."

Viktor stared at his ally with shocked incredulity.

"You attacked the Potions Professor?" he asked slowly. He was beginning to think that the man might have valid reasons to hate Potter and his friends, after all.

"He was being unreasonable," said Potter defensively. "And we just meant to disarm him. Three Expelliarmus combined apparently can knock out a person, though."

Especially if one of those Disarming Spells was cast by Harry Potter, thought Viktor. The kid's spells were awfully powerful.

"What punishment did you receive for that?" he inquired.

Potter smirked again.

"None. Dumbledore intervened, I think, else I would still be in detention and I wouldn't have passed my Potions finals. Snape definitely looked like he wanted to crucio me that night."

Viktor shook his head. At this point he shouldn't be surprized by any story that Potter told him, but the kid managed to shock him over and over again. They had brewed Polyjuice in a bathroom in second year? He fervently hoped neither of them had drank whatever they had produced. And what exactly had happened —involving a man's soul— that had made them attack a teacher? Potter had mentioned before something about Dementors, had there been such dark creatures in Hogwarts at some point?

He wondered if Hermione would be comfortable knowing that her friend had shared with Viktor anecdotes that involved her. Probably not. She had always been careful (or perhaps been forced by the Goblet, in Potter's case) to leave her friends out during her conversations with Viktor, and as a result it seemed that she had left out an important part of her. The part that, despite her obvious respect for rules, apparently was as prone to get into trouble as Potter.

If Viktor had been interested before, now he was painfully eager to get to know her better.

It was late —much later than it had already been when they had met up in the sky—, but Viktor figured this was a good opportunity to bring up the subject he had been avoiding for over a week. If he didn't do it soon, Fleur was bound to eventually gather the courage to approach Potter herself, and Viktor would rather discuss the matter in private with his ally first.

"Fleur came to talk to me the other day," he finally said. "She wants to be allies."

Potter had been tracing lines on the ground with a stick, but his head snapped up at his words, his eyes looking blue in the light of Hermione's waterproof flames.

"Fleur?" he repeated in confusion.

"Delacour," clarified Viktor.

The kid rolled his eyes.

"Right, Delacour," he said wryly. The humour vanished abruptly, replaced by a serious, worried expression. He looked almost sad. "So she wants to be your ally?"

"She wants to be your ally," corrected Viktor, feeling slightly touched at the kid's obvious fear that he might abandon him in favour of another ally. "You saved her sister's life, Potter. She owes you."

Potter seemed bewildered for a moment, but then he shook his head.

"She doesn't owe me anything," he said, going back to trace lines on the sand. "Tell her to forget about it."

"She will not forget it," said Viktor with certainty. "She owes you a life, and she wants to pay you back by helping you win or at least survive the Tournament."

The kid shook his head again.

"I don't want an ally who feels obligated to me. Fleur has always wanted to win, that's fine by me, you can tell her she has my blessing to keep being herself."

Viktor contemplated his ally in silence for a long moment, brow furrowed. He had thought mentioning the life debt would be the best way to reassure Potter as to Fleur's trustworthiness (it would bring eternal shame to her family if she betrayed the person she was so indebted to), he hadn't considered that it would also be the best way to ensure the kid refused the alliance. But of course Potter wasn't like most people, he would never accept anything in exchange for saving someone's life. If he were that kind of person he probably wouldn't have saved the little girl at all.

As much as Viktor would rather leave it at that and never mention Fleur again, he knew their chances of survival would be greater with her in the team. She might not be his favourite person, but she was currently one of the few who could be of help.

"I don't think it is just about a life debt for her," he said. "She is ashamed because she misjudged you. And I think that nearly losing her sister made her realize what really matters. She doesn't want to win anymore, she just wants to do the right thing."

He could hardly believe that he was speaking in Fleur's behalf, like she had begged him to do. Only she had expected Potter would be mistrustful and resentful, and there was none of that in the kid's demeanour.

"You think we should let her in?" asked Potter after a thoughtful minute, uncertainty plain in his green-blue eyes.

"It is not my decision," said Viktor with a shrug. "I just think you should consider it."

"It's not my alliance, Krum."

Viktor regarded the kid over the blue jar for a long moment.

"You know, you can call me Viktor," he said finally.

"You can call me Harry," countered Potter.

Viktor frowned. That would be too weird.

"Krum is fine," he grumbled, ignoring the kid's smirk. "Fleur wants an alliance with you, Potter, not with me. It should be your decision to let her in or not."

"I don't care what she wants," said Potter. "I care what you think, Krum. We are both equal allies, so we both get a vote. If you don't want Fleur in, then she's out. I know you don't like her much. "

"And you like her better?" asked Viktor in disbelief.

Potter shrugged.

"I have no problem with her. And she might have a better chance surviving if she works with us, don't you think?"

Viktor rolled his eyes with exasperation. Of course Potter would worry about Fleur, no matter how badly she had treated him until now.

"I think you would have a better chance of survival if she works with us, Potter," he said. "It is true that I don't like her much, but she could be useful. She is better at research than us, and very good at Charms. We would be stronger if she joined."

They would also not have peace ever again, thought Viktor bitterly, but right now they had to focus on survival.

They didn't say anything else on the subject, but Viktor knew it was settled. He looked around, drinking in the darkness. He closed his eyes and listened to the quiet sounds made by creatures of the night, the subtle murmur of waves breaking against the shore.

He knew that Fleur liked to fly too —she was a Chaser—, and it was a given that Potter would try to include her in their nightly activities. Since they did most of their spell practice out here at night, Viktor would not be able to object.

Things were about to change.

They met with Fleur the next day during lunch. She was in her best behaviour, the picture of humility and gratefulness, so Viktor didn't have any valid reason to scowl at her. Of course she ignored all Potter's attempts to make her understand that she didn't owe him anything, as well as his assurance that he didn't mind if she tried to win, and instead she solemnly vowed to get the kid safely through the third task even at the cost of her life, just to begin with. Viktor would not have been surprized if she had offered Potter her sister's hand in marriage, but she must have known that would be counterproductive because she refrained for the moment.

As predicted, Potter asked her if she liked to fly and if she had a broom, and on her affirmative answer he invited her to fly with them. Fleur seemed excited at the prospect of defying Madam Maxime by sneaking out at night. All the respect she had had for her Headmistress clearly had vanished the instant that Fleur had realized that it had been she who had kidnapped her little sister and delivered her to the Merpeople. Viktor understood the feeling perfectly. He had not had much respect left for Karkaroff to lose, but he definitely was still furious with his Headmaster for having used the Imperius Curse on Hermione. The lazy bastard had had her for an entire day under the curse, making her go about her normal routine, just because it had been easier to procure the hostage that way. Oddly, neither Potter nor Diggory seemed angry at their Headmaster. Although who would be able to resent such a kindly old wizard? Especially since as a judge Dumbledore had not had any choice on the matter. Maxime hadn't had a choice either, but Fleur didn't seem like the forgiving type, nor she was very reasonable when it came to her sister.

So Fleur readily accepted the invitation to fly with them, and she even suggested to bring a Quaffle to 'have some fun'. Viktor could already see Potter dropping the ball in the lake just as he had dropped the egg, but at the suggestion it occurred to him that he could bring a practice Snitch one of these nights. Releasing one of those outside a stadium and in the middle of the night might not be the best idea (nothing would stop it from flying all the way to Bulgaria if they lost sight of it), but he had long wished to try his skill against Potter's.

Not that 'having fun' was a priority, of course. He intended to get together with Fleur to draw a training schedule for Potter as soon as possible. It didn't need to be an intensive regime yet, but the more they could teach their young ally now the more time they would have to dedicate to a specific preparation once they learned what the third task was about. And with any luck if they organized their training well he and Fleur might be able to keep up with the NEWT work in their classes.

Eager to begin demonstrating her allegiance, Fleur insisted on introducing Potter to the other Beauxbatons' students (in a clear attempt to not be less than Viktor), and invited them to sit at the Ravenclaw table if they wanted. Potter was visibly uncomfortable with the whole thing, but he braved it all and returned the courtesy by taking her to the Gryffindor table and introducing her just like he had introduced Viktor before. As a quarter Veela, predictably the male half of Gryffindor House welcomed her quite enthusiastically, while the female half looked panicked at the idea of having Fleur sitting there every day.

Viktor couldn't help noticing that Hermione was one of the people less than happy with Fleur's charming presence, and also that her annoyance seemed to have to do with the redhead's embarrassing reaction to the part Veela. She smiled at Viktor, though, seeming truly pleased that he was back at the Gryffindor table. Just as the redhead was plainly not pleased with the same development.

That's when Viktor knew for sure that he would have to fight for this girl's heart.

It wasn't an impossible quest, he felt certain of that, but it would take patience and perseverance. It was obvious that she didn't feel as strongly for him as he felt for her, but there was no reason why she couldn't fall for him too, given time. Her current hesitation was probably just fear, which was perfectly understandable considering that the damned Goblet had revealed the seriousness of Viktor's feelings much too clearly. Truth be told, Viktor had also been afraid when he had seen Hermione at the bottom of the lake and realized what that meant.

He just needed to convince her that it was all right if she wasn't quite in the same place than he was yet. He could wait for her to get there in her own time.

The redhead was a threat, yes, but the kid didn't seem to be making any advances towards her. He wasn't even in her circle of friends, at the moment.

His confidence bolstered by these thoughts, Viktor reached across the table for her hand, and had to resist the temptation of glancing smugly at his rival when the girl blushed and smiled and interlocked her delicate fingers with his.