Eight students of Durmstrang gathered in the Hogwarts courtyard at precisely seven on the dot on Sunday. A cool breeze carried a light mist, clinging to the edges of their cloaks.
Viktor, Oleg, and Alexei stood straight, eyes up front, shoulders squared. Viktor thought it was strange they needed to gather as a group to go into town. Were students always supervised like children? It was a waste of time waiting for a group to separate later.
Thirty minutes later, four students from Beauxbatons arrived. Viktor observed the Beauxbatons ladies and their graceful and quiet steps. They wore flowing robes of pastel colors and delicate jewelry.
The Durmstrang students gave a slight bow. The Beauxbatons inclined their heads and took a sit on the nearby benches. They crossed their ankles and placed their hands on their laps.
Within moments, the subtle chatter of Hogwarts students filled the air, gradually growing in volume as they arrived in small clusters. He didn't recognize anyone, but, he hadn't been paying much attention. They looked older than Miss Granger. They gasped and whispered rather loudly when they saw him, but he paid them no mind.
Viktor furrowed his brows. Miss Granger was running late. Professor Sigurd didn't take too kind to tardiness. But then again, if she couldn't make it on time, she wouldn't pass the course.
He stopped himself. Why is he even thinking about it?
He glanced at the Beauxbatons and noticed they were about seventeen or eighteen. One of them recognized him and started giggling. She hurriedly touched her friend's elbow and whispered something to her. The blonde gazed seductively at Viktor and batted her eyelashes at him.
He scowled as the giggling grew louder. He took out a potion from his pocket and chugged it. His skin and body tingled as his face morphed into one with light brown eyes, and a small, straight nose covered with freckles.
Oleg nudged him on the ribs with his elbow only a second before he felt the pull. Miss Granger was running. The wind ran through the witch's wild and curly hair, teasing the strands and pushing them back away from her flushed face.
His eyes traveled from her rosy face to her clothing. She was wearing some vest with long sleeves, and a metal fastening mechanism that connected the two sides of the pink fabric. Her pants were something a man would wear.
Except nothing about them reminded Viktor of a man. The thick blue material was like nothing he had seen before. He watched it move with the curves of her body as she walked. It hugged her legs like a second skin.
He heard gasps coming from the Beauxbatons.
"Comme c'est scandaleux!"
"Elle est habillée comme un homme!"
"Oh mes chers, c'est assez courant ici. Non seulement les étudiants nés-moldus et les étudiants de sang-mêlé en portent, mais j'ai entendu dire que certains sangs-purs ont choisi de le porter également."
They brought their fingertips to their lips in shared horror.
Even with his rusty and limited French, he could tell that whatever they said was not a compliment.
Viktor's eyes glanced over at his friends. He watched them as they looked at her. They were eyes full of desire and a lustful hunger as their eyes flickered over her figure, tracing each contour that made him clench his jaw.
The Hogwarts students carried on without so much as a flicker of surprise or interest in Miss Granger's distinctive outfit.
She approached them and stood in front of them. Dark circles lined her eyes. Her wild curls stuck out from her head out of her high ponytail.
"Dimitro! How nice to see you."
"Same to you, Miss Grae-en-ger." He took her hand and kissed her.
Her curious eyes widened in surprise as she examined Viktor's polyjuiced body. "Krum, good morning."
A flicker of astonishment danced across his features, swiftly replaced by a subtle raise of his eyebrows and a faint parting of his lips. "You knov me?"
Her brows furrowed slightly. "Yes, why would I not?"
Viktor's lips gently curved. He bowed and kissed her palm. "I see. Good morning Miss Grain-ger."
Alexei clicked his heels and extended his hand to her.
Her lips formed a hesitant curve, creating an uneasy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She offered her hand and he kissed it.
"Alexei Krum."
Her smile changed from shy and unsure to radiant and authentic, lighting up her face. "Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you."
"The pleazure is all mine, my lady." He kissed her hand again. "I'm surprised you recognized my brother."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "I'm surprised as well." She examined Viktor's fresh face. She tilted her head. "But I just knew it was him." She brought her fingers to her chin and furrowed her brows deeper. "Odd."
Alexei smirked. "Yes, how odd. I guess his trademark scovl follovs him everyvhere."
Viktor scowled at his brother. He nudged Alexei back in formation as Professor Sigurd approached.
The students aligned themselves with precise, disciplined movements, forming a straight and orderly line reminiscent of a well-executed military formation. Each individual stood at attention, shoulders squared, and posture erect. Their synchronized movements created a seamless and regimented line.
She gave them a thoughtful, inquisitive look, her brow furrowing as she studied them.
The ladies from the Beauxbatons got up and gave the bearded man a small courtesy.
With a subtle yet affirmative movement, Profesor Sigurd inclined his head towards the young women.
Interestingly enough, two of the four Hogwarts students curtseyed. The other two nodded their heads as the Professor walked by.
When he approached Miss Granger, Viktor's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
The professor extended his pale, withered hand in greeting.
Miss Granger's face softened, her brows relaxed. "Professor Sigurd, it a pleasure sir!" She extended her hand to the man, treating him cautiously, as though his hand was porcelain. "I'm Hermione Granger," she introduced herself.
The old wizard squeezed her hand.
"Ah, yez, Mizz Gra-n-her." As he released her hand, his thumb traced a gentle path along the edge of her finger. "I haffe heard many good things from your headmaster."
Confusion flickered in Viktor's eyes, surprised by the sudden compliment from the Durmstrang professor.
A faint rosy hue tinged her cheeks. She straightened her back and looked into the wizard's grey eyes.
Viktor thought he saw a smirk across his professor's face, but if it was there, it banished as fast as it came.
Miss Granger curled her fists and inhaled. "I-I, um, actually wanted to talk to you about something, professor."
"Vhy, Mizz Gra-n-her, we haven't even started and you are already having difficulties?"
Ah, there he was, the condensing and arrogant professor who strode the hallways of Durmstrang.
She licked her lips and swallowed. Her cheeks picked up a brighter pink. "I'm sorry Professor." She looked at the floor. She inhaled again, and she glimpsed at the wizard.
He waved a dismissive hand over his chest, an action reserved for dismissing elves or servants. He stared at the girl, a twisted smirk on his face.
"Vell, are you going to zpeak or should I use Legilimenzy to speed thingz up?"
Miss Granger shuffled in her feet nervously. "No, sir." She gulped and clenched her hands. "It's just that I haven't learned how to apparate."
A wicked smile crept onto Professor Sigurd's lips. His grey eyes glinted with something that didn't sit right with Viktor. The way the older wizard looked at Miss Granger didn't sit right with Viktor. There was a glint of a predator looking at its prey in the wizard's eyes.
"To be expected." Something in his voice made the curly-haired witch look like someone had punched her in the gut. Professor Sigurd must have noticed it because the glint in his eyes got a little brighter. "I vill be generous. I shall allov you to come vith me."
Viktor felt a slight twist in his stomach. Why did that bother him so much? It could be because there was a vulnerability to the young witch's confession. Or it could be because the wizard appeared to be enjoying the young witch's suffering.
"I wouldn't want to inconvenience you, Professor." She fumbled with the sleeves of her pink clothing.
"You vould inconvenience me," the older wizard tilted his head. "But alas, far too predictable for someone." He glowered at the witch. "In your position."
The twist in his stomach tightened. The way he had said those words would have led anyone to believe the Rune master was implying something about her blood status. But that predatory look in his eye told Viktor that it wasn't that, it was something more perverse.
"I'm very sorry Professor." There was a sheen to her eyes that she blinked away.
Viktor cleared his throat and felt the necessity to stand straighter. "She can go vith me."
Her brown eyes snapped to him. Her scrunched brows eased, and she looked at him like he had just saved her from a dragon.
If Viktor hadn't been looking at their professor, he would have missed the way his jaw clenched.
Sigurd's eyes went from predatory to bored in a flash. "Very vell." He swung around, his black robes tailing behind him. He lifted his arm in the air and strode towards the exit.
As they made their way to the town, Miss Granger, who had remained quiet and kept her gaze fixed on the floor while they walked, spoke up. "Thank you, Krum," she said, looking up at him and offering a smile.
That smile tugged at the invisible threat that surrounded them, and he stepped a little closer. "It'z okay."
She bit her lip and furrowed her eyebrows, glancing at him, then at the professor, and finally back at the ground. Opening her mouth as if to say something while looking at the older wizard, she hesitated and closed it again. "It was nice of you to volunteer," she finally spoke.
She scratched at her cuticles and chuckled. "I couldn't sleep last night with nerves." She sighed. "Looks like I was right to worry. Now Professor Sigurd thinks I'm incapable."
He scowled at Miss Granger. "Net, you do nothing wrong. It'z amazing you are in class."
Her head turned to him so quickly that her hair slapped her face.
Viktor's lips twitched upward.
"You think so?" There was a softness and warmth in her eyes that made looking away from her almost impossible.
"Da. I do."
She smiled at the ground, and Viktor inched closer.
They walked in comfortable silence until the town came into view. But Alexei interrupted their serenity.
"So Miss Grain-in-ger," Alexei reached her side. "Hov old are you?"
Both Viktor and Oleg sent a death stare at the younger Krum. It was incredibly rude to ask a lady personal questions. Even after spending a considerable amount of time with a lady, society frowned upon asking her about her age.
Miss Granger looked at Alexei and nonchalantly answered. "Sixteen. You?"
Alexei smiled at her. "Sixteen."
She hummed and offered a small smile. "How about you Dimitro?"
The tall brunette examined her face as if she was asking that.
"Seventeen."
She nodded and kept walking forward.
Viktor's polyjuiced brows knit tighter. Was she not going to ask about him? Why them and not him?
Alexei snickered at his brother. He quirked a perfect brow at his brother. "Tell me Miss Grain-in-ger." He took a place on her right. "You veren't surprised at all to zee Viktor."
"Why would I be surprised?" She turned to look at the seeker. "It's not my first time meeting him."
The light-eyed Krum hummed in response. "Ah yes, but I mean that you veren't surprised to see him here."
Viktor shot his brother a warning look, but he ignored it.
The witch turned to Alexei and looked at him like he was daft.
Viktor hid his chuckle by covering his mouth with his fit and cleared his throat.
She sighed, shifting her gaze towards the approaching town. "You mean, why wasn't I surprised that he could be interested in anything besides Quidditch?" Without waiting for his response, her voice gained intensity. "Because life is so much more than just Quidditch! He's intelligent, and he shouldn't be defined solely by being a Quidditch player."
A wave of warmth washed over him. Here she was, defending him again. Her irritation towards Alexei made him smile.
His brother looked shocked. Viktor probably had the same expression yesterday, too. Alexei's shocked expression turned into a smirk as he eyed his brother, who was looking at the curly-haired witch with stars in his eyes.
"I take it you do not like Quidditch then?"
"I'm not a fan, but I do enjoy the matches." She admitted, squinting slightly and tilting her head. "Sometimes anyway."
"You vatch?" Asked Viktor.
"I go to my best friend's games. He's a seeker like you."
He. How curious. Back home, it was unheard of for a witch to have male friends when she was unwed.
The crisp autumn air enveloped Hogsmeade, tinting the streets with the scent of fallen leaves and a hint of vanilla.
Professor Sigurd withdrew a meticulously detailed map of Diagon Alley from his robes, floating it effortlessly into the air with a wave of his wand. Pointing to a specific spot on the map, he directed, "We'll reconvene at this location at 4 p.m." With a final nod, he disapparated.
The Hogwarts students were the first to go, followed by the Beauxbatons.
"We'll see you back on the ship." Called out a blonde short wizard to Oleg. He clicked his heels together and walked back to the group.
Oleg turned around to face Viktor, Alexei, and Miss Granger. "Ve should go."
Miss Granger's complexion paled, her forehead glistened, and her posture sagged.
"Are you okay?" Viktor stood in front of her.
She nodded and blinked. She shook her head. "Yes."
He offered her the crook of his elbow.
Uncertainty flickered in her eyes as she paused, deliberating for a moment, before accepting. Her fingers lingered, gently resting on his forearm.
"Ready?"
She shook her head and dug her nails into his brown tunic.
"Miss Grain-ger?"
Her shoulders stiffened visibly. "Yes?" Her voice quivered slightly, and her breathing became erratic.
"Thiz your first time?"
She held her breath and looked expectedly at Viktor, almost as if she was expecting Viktor to make fun of her. She shook her head.
"It be okay."
"Will be." She corrected with a shaky smile.
He smiled. "Da, it vill be okay."
A simple verbal affirmation would have helped, but the tingling on his skin made him feel bold. Was this polite? No, would she think he's some type of pervert? Possibly.
He swallowed and slowly reached his over to cover hers.
Their eyes met, and time seemed to stop. His heart beat a bit faster and he felt drawn into her lovely brown eyes.
He squeezed her hand. "Big," he inhaled, trying to show her what to do.
"Okay." She took a breath and exhaled. She repeated the action a couple of times. Her shoulders relaxed, and her grip loosened.
He smiled and inhaled again. "Ready?"
"Yes."
He brought his other hand to his chest and motioned her to inhale.
She tensed and dug her nails into his forearm again, this time Viktor felt the nails digging into his skin. She inhaled and shut her eyes.
He apparated and a second later; they arrived at the bustling streets of Diagon Alley.
The instant their feet touched the ground, Miss Granger clung to him like she was about to fall off a cliff. The hand that had previously been on the nook of his elbow now enveloped his biceps. She hugged his arm against her chest.
A shiver ran down his spine, growing stronger as Miss Granger pressed his arm against her chest. He could feel the gentle contours of each breast. His heart pounded in his chest, and he was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing together - so close that their breathing seemed to be in sync. His breath quickened as the smell of jasmine filled his senses.
Her heavy breathing and pale face brought him back to reality.
Guilt washed away the warm feeling coursing through his body. He remembered the first time he had apparated. His stomach had twisted so badly that he thought he was going to hurl all over his father's shoes. The knot was so tight it had squeezed the air out of his lungs.
Sweat dotted her forehead as her breath came in ragged, shallow gasps.
"It iz okay." He faced her and modeled inhaling again. Viktor bent down to look at her at eye level.
Her eyes darted to his, but they quickly fell to the floor.
Fuck, if he had a better vocabulary, he would tell her to take deep breaths through her nose.
He kept breathing through his nose, motioning for her to do as he was doing.
She nodded and followed suit. After a couple of deep breaths, color returned to her face.
"Iz good?"
"Yes, better. Thank you." She offered him a shaky smile. The witch closed her eyes and took a couple of breaths.
She opened her eyes. They widened in surprise, and her cheeks flushed as she focused on his arm.
Viktor was sure that she would let go, not that he minded, of course, but she was holding on because she wasn't feeling well.
Her lips parted, and her eyes locked on his.
He felt the tether, that invisible thread connecting them. It urged him to surrender, to give into the magnetic pull that drew him closer to this enigmatic witch.
Fuck it, just this one time. It couldn't hurt. He shoved aside his friends and his brother's warning about the witch that was hugging his arm.
Viktor allowed the tether to pull them closer. He took a small step forward. He felt a rush of warm magic throughout his body. Her jasmine scent, mixed with parchment and leather, flooded his senses.
Her magic mixed with his, and the feeling was euphoric.
As the warmth intensified, the magical tingles transformed into a gentle pulse, a rhythmic throbbing that sent shivers of delight down his spine. He looked into her lovely brown eyes, surrendering to the sensation, allowing it to wash over him like a wave of pure bliss.
Her lashes fluttered like delicate wings against her cheeks, a mesmerizing dance that caught his attention and held it captive.
He heard distant voices calling out to him in Russian and Bulgarian but ignored them.
He was ensnared, caught in a mesmerizing spell that held him captive, one he didn't care to break.
A large and powerful hand grabbed his shoulder. "Viktor," Oleg called out.
Their eyes, once locked, now darted away. She let go of his arm and stepped away. Her cheeks were red, and she bit down on her lip as she looked at the three Durmstrang students.
"I-um, didn't feel great." She mumbled. "It was my first time apparating. I kinda just, um, grabbed on to the first thing I saw. I-I didn't want to fall. The streets are so busy and, um, dirty."
"Are you okay Mizz Grain-in-ger?"
"Ah yes, thank you, Dimitrov." She ran her palms along her thighs. She looked at Viktor's brown eyes and looked away.
The allure of the situation, the intoxicating pull, had momentarily blinded him. This connection, this moment, didn't change the facts. She would be a target, and this was dangerous.
"Brother." Alexei angrily called out to him in Bulgarian. "What do you think you are doing?"
"I was helping her so she wouldn't fall." He shrugged his shoulders.
Alexei scoffed. "Yeah, right, that's just what you were doing."
"It was."
"Please, don't try to give us excuses!"
"They are not excuses. She was not feeling well."
Alexei rolled his eyes. "I don't doubt that, but that doesn't explain why you were looking at her like a desirous dog!" The younger Krum pinched the bridge of his nose. "Brother, whatever is going on with her is dangerous. You left yourself wide open. If Karkaroff or any professor had seen that, they would go after her." He exhaled through his nose. "Not to mention your fans. You can't forget what they did to Eve."
Viktor sighed. The poor witch ended up being harassed for weeks, even after their breakup.
"Ve are going to the goblins." Oleg addressed the Krums.
Viktor furrowed his brows at his friend.
"Dimitrov offered to accompany to the bank." Miss Granger announced. "I told him it wasn't necessary, but he insisted."
Oleg nodded. "Ve should go."
"Vonderful! Ve vill meet you here once you are done."
Viktor's brow furrowed deeply, his eyes narrowing into a sharp glare aimed squarely at his brother and Oleg.
Miss Granger's brows drew together. She sighed and walked next to Oleg. She waved at Viktor and Alexei and started talking to Oleg.
Diagon Alley was different from Vr'zka Alley. The buildings in Diagon Alley were tall and narrow. And it was certainly a lot louder than back home. Vrazka Alley featured more traditional shops. Compared to the wonky buildings of England, Vrazka Alley's buildings were adorned with intricate carvings and symbols that reflected Balkan magical traditions.
After walking around for a couple of minutes, it was clear that Diagon Alley offered more general items. In Wizarding Sofia, the shops carried more specific merchandise, like magic paint, and made-to-order china.
After purchasing their items, Viktor and Alexei made their way back to where they had separated from Oleg and Miss Granger.
They sat on a bench and watched people come and go in the gaudy street. Viktor checked the time with a flick of his wand. He had two more hours until the polyjuice potion wore off.
"So are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on with Miss Grain-ger?"
A wizard with blue robes walked by and did a double look when he saw the boy's uniforms. He continued to scrutinize them as he walked on.
He thought about lying, but saying something like 'nothing, don't worry about it' was foolish. His brother knew him too well.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?" Alexei scoffed. "That's even more dangerous and reckless! What would you have done if someone else saw and reported it to Karkaroff?"
Viktor slouched and placed his elbows on top of his thighs.
"Look Vik, anyone with eyes can tell that there's something strong between the two of you. If you know the risks to her, to you and our family, why would you keep on chasing after her?"
"It's different. She's different." This is different. Putting aside their tether, she was a breath of fresh air.
Alexei grunted. "We know, but that English firecracker reeks of the boy who lived trouble. Not only that but we don't Karkaroff is up to. Putting a target on her back is only going to put her in danger."
"I know."
"Merlin's left ball, you must've gotten hit pretty hard by that bludger in the world cup if you know. I'm starting to think it did some permanent damage."
Viktor scoured the crowds for rebellious brown curls. "Me too."
HermioneHermione stepped into Gringotts for the third time. The first time she and her parents had gone to exchange money, the goblins, their sharp teeth, and even sharper tongues had left a sour taste in the Granger's mouths.
Hermione had blissfully ignored the obvious distaste the goblins showed when her parents stepped up to the platform. She stared at the creatures with undeserving awe.
The first thing the goblin asked was if they had an account to which they said no. The serving goblin snarled its ugly face at them.
Her father's distaste for the creatures didn't go unnoticed either. Mr Granger's face scrunched in disgust when the goblins informed them to open an account. They would need a family insignia and, in their case, a pureblood guarantor.
The goblin's distaste, however, died when Mrs Granger pulled out her wallet. Her father had gone on and on about how he was sure those creatures ripped them off with exaggerated fees.
For Hermione's second year, her parents exchanged enough money for the next three years, mostly due to her dad's insistence. Unfortunately, the materials for Runecrafting were rather expensive. Hermione had dipped into her savings, but it wasn't enough.
This time around, this visit felt different. She couldn't quite place why, though. It was the same place, the same goblins perched in the same seats. When Dimitrov opened the door for her, the goblins and security guards acknowledged her presence. Maybe it was her imagination, but the waiting time seemed shorter, and even the globins were, well, not nice, or even polite, but not so... offhandish.
Once she finished the exchange, she made her way to Dimitrov. Dimitrov stood tall and imposing, his muscular frame casting an intimidating silhouette against the dimly lit corner of the bank. He had short, slicked-back hair, and a piercing scar ran from his left brow to his ear.
"All done."
He nodded and ushered her to the exit. He opened the door and waited for her to step through.
Hermione kept peeking at the tall Russian. His large scar reminded her a lot of Harry's, in the same way it felt off. Potions and spells were highly effective in eliminating scars. However, the only scars that remained irreversible were the result of particularly malevolent hexes or curses.
She took the list of supplies out of her pocket. "Okay, so I guess we should tackle this by starting with the shops that are further away."
"Tackle?"
"Sorry, tackle means deal with something. In this case, going to buy."
"I zee."
Hermione led them through the crowded cobbled streets. At some point, Dimitrov stood in front of her shielding her from the oncoming waves of wizards and witches coming out of offices.
She examined the back of the Russian's head. The way the Durmstrang boys treated her was so different from the boys at Hogwarts that she was sure it was a pureblood thing.
She wondered what had happened to her companion. It must have been a pretty volatile hex, but one so close to his eye was not an accident. She listed all possible hexes that could leave something a scar that gruesome. And as much as she wanted to ask, it wasn't prudent. The glimmer she caught a few days ago shimmered again. Its light blue hue sparkled in the sun. Was it some enchantment?
She made a mental note to ask Madam Pomfrey about auditory and visual ailments. What would happen if your senses got hit with a hex or curse? Would those require special spells or potions?
She begged her mind to keep coming up with questions. She was not going to think about whatever happened with Krum.
As cheesy as it was, it had been magical. She felt a thread pulling her close to him. He was so nice, and caring making it easy to get carried away when that impulse urged her to get him close to her.
Giving in felt as though a thousand little fireworks were going off all across her skin. It had been a shame she couldn't look at his face or eyes. But then again, maybe that was a blessing. If she had been looking at his dark obsidian eyes, she was sure she would have gotten lost in them.
She shook the thoughts away. Whatever that was, it was dangerous. Given her recent propensity to lose herself in the moment, she didn't want to find out what would happen if they had stayed like that a minute longer.
She couldn't afford any distractions. She already started on the wrong foot with Professor Sigurd. She couldn't mess it up anymore.
Krum wasn't a distraction. He helped her. If it hadn't been for him, she wasn't sure what she would have done. She spent all night thinking about it and the only answer she reached was taking a Floo to one of the shops.
Even if he was tall and muscular and that smile of his did something to her, she couldn't afford to give in, not when she had to prove to both Professor Sigurd and Dumbledore that she was worthy.
An hour later, they bought all the materials they needed. Dimitrov, of course, refused to let her carry her bags. He almost gripped them out of her hands. She argued that, though appreciated, it was not needed. She was very much capable of carrying her things. He simply said it wasn't a problem, but she kept on arguing how in this century women were capable of enough to carry their things. But he simply shrugged his shoulders and pried her things out of her hands.
Hermione decided that she rather liked Dimitrov. He was the perfect gentleman. He was quiet, but he always replied when she asked him something. When they were shopping, he listened to her reasons why goblin-made engraving chisels were superior to enchanted rune carving stylus. He, however, explained the benefits of dragon bone etching needles. Dragonbone needles gave superior precision and durability, creating intricate engravings even on fragile materials without compromising them.
When they were passing Honeyduke's, she stopped for a moment to excuse herself. She hurriedly dashed inside the candy store, determined to pick up something special as a show of gratitude for her, eh, acquaintances? Schoolmates? After some careful consideration, she decided on Treacle Fudge and Chocolate Frogs for the boys. She called upon Mr Redding, who was behind the counter, and asked him if he could package them in individual gift bags. Smiling brightly, he obliged her request cheerfully.
Dimitrov and Hermione finally made their way back to the rendezvous point with the Krums. The brothers were sitting on a bench in front of Olivander's. Their tan tunic uniform and straight posture were an interesting contrast to the lively streets.
Even with his face muffled by polyjuice potion, Hermione knew from across the street that it was Krum. Not only from whatever compelled her to get close to him but also from the same furrowed brow and intimidating expression on his face that she had grown accustomed to seeing at the World Cup and the few glances of him during dinner.
She wondered if the out-of-control hormones were driving her to him because this year she had no self-control or shame. She pretty much used the man's tone, and hard arm as a crane, but then again, that was better than puking on an international quidditch player's shoes.
After gaining her footing and her stomach stopped feeling like she was going to puke, her heart raced when her eyes met Viktor's. She knew she shouldn't, but her magic had urged her to reach out. Hermione had hesitated to get any closer, yet curiosity drew her in. He was the first person she felt such a powerful pull towards. Her magic seemed to bubble up under her skin. It called to be let out with his touch. The moment she let it out, it was like nothing she had experienced. And Merlin willing, it would stay a one-time experience.
As much as she enjoyed it, it was like she lost control of herself. And given her previous dalliance in the closet, she was utterly terrified of what would happen.
The Krum brothers rose when they saw her and Dimitrov approaching. She dug into the bag that she refused to hand over to her shopping companion. She grabbed each bag and handed them to the Durmstrang.
"Here, for you guys."
They each took the bag with knitted brows.
"Vank you. But Vhat is this?" Asked Oleg. The small pink bag looked like a child's toy in his hands and she couldn't help but smile.
"Treacle Fudge and Chocolate Frogs."
The shorter Krum laughed. Had this been a bad idea, after all? She felt her cheeks flush. "I just wanted to show my thanks." Circi she felt so stupid now, getting grown boys candy.
She reached to take Dimitrov's bag, but he lifted his hand. "Dank you for vhat?"
"Well for–" What was she thanking them for? For the older Krum, it was easy, to apparate and make sure she didn't puke everywhere. Dimitrov for telling her about the dragon bone etching needles and for being a good companion. "For being nice."
The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to hit herself in the head. For being nice? Merlin, she sounded like a child!
Their brows furrowed deeper, etching lines into their foreheads.
Her cheeks flushed crimson, a fiery blush that spread from her temples to her neck, painting her face with a vivid shade of sounding incredibly socially awkward.
The seeker stepped closer; the gift cradled behind his back. With his other hand, he reached for her hand and placed a tentative kiss on her knuckles. "Dank you, Miss Gran-ger, it'z very nice."
Dimitrov also took her hand and did the same as Krum. "It'z a good gift. And waz not being nice, was being, er, normal."
The younger Krum opened his bag and took a bite of the Treacle Fudge. "Just as sveet as you," he swiped her hand into his and turned it around. Unlike his brother or the tall Russian, he kissed her palm.
This was a lot different from the other "greetings" she experienced. This felt a lot more intimate, like something that was only done in private.
She was sure that her neck was as red as her face. He smirked at her and there was something in his eyes that spoke of mischief. A second later though, he was being pulled back by his older brother by the scruff of his neck.
"Ve go nov." His brother said in a low, angry voice.
His younger brother laughed again and offered his elbow to the curly-haired witch. "Vill you do me the pleazure?"
She almost looked at the Bulgarian seeker, almost. "Sure, but I must warn you now. I am sorry if I ruin your shoes."
He laughed and placed his free hand lightly on top of her hand.
"Ready?"
"No, but let's get this other with."
Hermione closed her eyes and with a soft pop, they landed back in Hogsmead. Slowly the rest of the students trickled into the spot where their professor left them. The trail back to Hogwarts was faster than in the morning and once inside the castle, they bid each other farewell.
She was relieved when she made it to the Gryffindor Tower and found it almost empty. She sighed in relief when she didn't see a certain redhead and brunette in the room. But then again, ever since Dumbledore announced the extra classes, it seemed like everyone was out on the quidditch pitch. Hermione headed to her room and organized her new supplies on her oak chest.
On her way to the Great Hall, she met Ron, Harry, and Ginny. They were wearing their training quidditch kits.
Ginny spotted her and dashed towards her. Her fiery red hair was tied up in a ponytail. It swung with each step she took.
"You!"
Hermione's brown eyes met her blue ones. "Ah, me." She eyed her friend's dirty clothes and scrunched up her nose. "What are you up?"
"Quidditch!" Ginny barked out.
Harry and Ron joined the girls.
Hermione snickered. "Yes, I can see and smell."
Ron smelled his armpit but shrugged his shoulders.
Ginny stomped her foot. "Never mind that! When were you planning on telling us about whatever is going on?"
Goosebumps covered Hermione's skin, remembering Angelina's hands and George's breath on her ear.
"Um, I, wh-what do you mean?"
Harry and Ginny squinted their eyes at her, analyzing her face.
"You've been acting weird," said Harry. He pushed up his glasses and stared at Hermione. "What's going on with you?"
She wasn't sure why, but she always felt a bit uncomfortable when Harry stared at her. It was almost like he could look into her soul.
She shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "Nothing. Like I said, I want to be welcoming."
Ron snorted, "You welcoming?"
"Yes, me Ronald!" Hermione snapped at him.
"Why? You've never been welcoming or friendly." Ron retorted. Harry's hand landed on Ron's chest, a swift but palpable thud.
"Maybe I want new friends!" Hermione bit back and walked away.
"Please! Who would want to be friends with you?" Ron yelled after her.
That hurt. Sometimes Hermione wondered why she was friends with Ron. Tears welled up, forming a sting behind her eyelids, threatening to spill over.
"Merlin, Ronald, you're insufferable!" Ginny's voice rang out. She swiftly turned to follow Hermione.
Hermione heard Harry say something to Ron, but she couldn't make out what it was.
Ginny's pale hand grabbed Hermione's elbow.
"Don't mind him. You know he's an arsehole when he, well, has to process emotions."
"Today was stressful." Harry chimed in. He brought his hands up in defense. "I'm not excusing his behavior, but–"
"It sounds exactly like you are creating excuses for him!"
Harry sighed. "I'm not Hermione."
Now it was Hermione's turn to glare at him.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I think he–we are wondering why sat somewhere differently. We just kind of thought you'd want to sit with us. It's just that after the attack on the World Cup you left so suddenly and with you being the 'representative' we have barely seen you."
"Not to mention that you have been avoiding us," Ginny said. She crossed her arms to her chest. "On Saturday you barely even looked our way." Ginny's voice cracked and something in Hermione twisted.
The two witches had grown close over the summer. They both saw the sisters they had never had in each other. It had been a new experience that had taken time to get used to, but Hermione loved the feeling of sisterhood.
She felt a sense of guilt, like an anchor weighing her down. She hadn't meant for things to get so out of hand. Now there was a dull, heavy sensation that she could not shake.
It was too late now to go back, seeing the first year so excited to have someone to talk to warmed Hermione's heart. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." She scratched at her cuticles. "But helping Lacey feels right. I-I understand how it feels to be completely alone in a new place and feel like an outcast in a place that's supposed to feel like you finally found the place where you belong."
Harry and Ginny looked at her with a down-turned smile.
They made their way to the Great Hall and, to Hermione's luck, George and Angelina were too busy talking about Quidditch.
Dinner was spent listening to everyone talk about stats, predictions for lineups, and unsurprisingly Krum.
Everyone was sure he would be in the new Quidditch class. After five minutes of the same conversation everywhere, her thoughts and eyes wandered to the Runecrafting Professor.
There was something about the wizard that didn't sit right with Hermione. He was polite, but his courteous tone carried an undertone that made her feel slightly belittled. She shook her head. She couldn't afford to think negatively about the wizard. Her eyes landed on Professor Snape and she shivered at the memory of him calling her a know-it-all.
After finishing her dinner, she excused herself. Apparition had exacted a heavier toll on her than she had anticipated. The dizzying effects lingered longer than she cared for.
She needed time to get her things ready for the first day of classes tomorrow.