Hello, my darlings. The tiny one does not run until this afternoon, so a chapter for you before I go. I hope those of you in the storm's wake are doing well. I've had to explain four times to my mortgage company that we were far enough away that we just got rain, that we were not impacted. Despite being five miles from the Mississippi River we are not on a flood plain, and if we did flood the world has bigger problems. So, that's been fun. Anyways, enjoy this chapter, it has lots of Viktor yumminess.

Chapter 12 The Ride

Hermione reviewed Harry's essay over breakfast. Ron accused her of choosing sides until she offered to look at his just to shut him up. She did leave several spelling errors to be petty and verisimilitude. Snape proved brutal in Potions. The Hufflepuffs' poor behavior towards Harry and Gryffindors in general annoyed McGonagall so much she assigned a longer than usual essay. After lunch the day got worse.

Professor Moody paced back and forth in front of the class until the students shuffled and whispered uneasily. "The ministry believes you are too young to know what's out there," he began. "The ministry is full of fools. Constant vigilance is required to survive. Constant vigilance." He began lecturing on the unforgivable curses and demonstrated them on a spider. Hermione and Neville were the only ones not laughing as the spider pirouetted around the classroom. The laughter died when the tiny creature screamed under the torture. Moody coldly killed it, no expression on his face. "You have to mean it to use them," he said quietly. He continued in a louder voice, " You need to understand them so that you can defend against them by avoiding them. The Imperious curse can be thrown off if you recognize it."

He began randomly casting Imperio on the students. Ron danced on Moody's desk. Sally-Anne Perks sang an opera. Seamus and Dean played leap-frog. Harry managed to throw off the effects after several moments and climbing on his desk. Lavender recited a poem. Then Moody turned to Hermione. Suddenly, she felt lightheaded and her mind seemed fogged. A voice suggested she dance like a ballerina. She wanted to. No, she did not. She hated ballet classes. She could do it, be graceful and floating. No. She realized what was happening. If she fought it Moody might suspect something. Harry was one thing, but a nobody? During her distraction she started to rise. No, not doing it. Harry didn't have to pointlessly stand out as the only one capable of throwing the curse off she sat back down and ignored the command. Moody gave her the same speculating look he gave Harry. She ignored him. Class ended shortly after that. Students chat excitedly about the lesson. Neville stared blankly as the rest of the students filed out the room. He was the last one on his feet and moving towards the door. He had been quiet for most of class. Professor Moody stopped him, sending the rest of them along.

A mishap during Charms sent Theo to the infirmary leaving Hermione doing homework in the Refuge alone as the library continued to prove disruptive with Krum's fan club. Her housemates demanded her time in the common room, and today she wanted peace. It had been long and tiring. The worst part of her day came when she wrote to Marcus after climbing in bed. Initially, he was sympathetic and agreed it sucked.

H: The only decent part of today was meeting a student from Drumstrang. He might start joining me in the mornings.

M: That's great. I know it sounds stupid, but I hate the idea of you out there alone and something happening. I try, but once Gemma realized I was getting up early she started getting up earlier so we can spend even more time together. She gets clingy any time I suggest spending time with friends without her. Anyone I might know? I talk to some of them when they sit close enough during meals. Nice blokes mostly.

H: Viktor Krum.

M: He's athletic, he should be good to do that with. I have to go.

H: Okay, good night.

Marcus didn't reply. In fact he stopped answering her communication attempts all together. Which didn't annoy her at all.

"Theo, do you know why Marcus is avoiding me? Is he avoiding me? Did I do something?"

"I don't know. He's not really talking to me, either. He's been hanging out with Adrian, Gemma, and all her friends most of the time lately."

"They are dating so that makes sense, I suppose. You're sure?"

"I am, I promise," he assured. She didn't quite believe him, though as she often noticed, or thought she noticed, Marcus glaring at Viktor or giving her an odd sad look. She did notice that Marcus never sat anywhere near the quidditch star any more.

Mid November Gryffindor faced Slytherin in their quidditch match. Both teams acquitted themselves well enough. Harry caught the snitch gaining them a twenty point to lead. Even though he seemed to be ignoring her, Hermione passed Theo a note for Marcus praising his performance. He thanked her a few days later. She grinned stupidly the rest of the evening after she read the short message.

oOo

One down, two to go. Harry survived the First Task. Seeing the dangers the Champions faced, Ron realized Harry likely hadn't put his name in. She admitted to herself that Harry's swift acceptance of Ron's half apology angered her.

She wrote about it in the journal to Marcus even if he still wasn't answering her. It made her feel better. She contemplated the notion that she should stop bothering to write several times, but then he smiled and waved or greet her somehow. She didn't know exactly where they stood, but they were still friends and she wanted that more than anything else. He'd mentioned numerous times how Gemma monopolized his time. He was probably exhausted by the time he escaped her. But she still felt upset that once again she was someone's second priority.

The next morning she met Viktor as usual at the old boathouse still vexed with Ron and somewhat with Harry. Last year her familiar had been innocent and instead of apologizing he gave her a lopsided smile and said, "Oops, guess it wasn't what I thought it was," and expected her to pretend nothing had happened. And he was doing it again! And Harry just forgave him, like he hadn't made them miserable for weeks. Complete bollocks. She poured her rage into the physical act of running.

"Herminny!" Viktor calling her name broke through the fog. She found herself quite a bit ahead of him and paused to wait.

"Sorry."

"I enjoy challenge, but worry. Is something wrong?"

She shook her head, "No, yes. I don't know. I'm frustrated with a friend, three friends, honestly. And for different reasons. But now that I realize how much it is bothering me I can work on it. I should have paid more attention to what I was doing and you. Sorry."

"So long as you are okay. Shall we finish?"

"Yes, please." They began running again.

"If you wish to talk about friends, I am here to listen, you know this correct?"

"I do. I appreciate it. One friend got a girlfriend and has less time to spend with his other friends. And I want to accept that, but I miss getting to spend time with him, too."

"It can be difficult to balance new romance with friendships, especially your first romance," he said diplomatically.

"He seems to be spending plenty of time with his friend that is dating her friends," she muttered bitterly. "Just me he seems to be avoiding." Viktor remained silent and nodded sagely. She continued, "And Ron acts out, makes everyone unhappy, and then just expects stuff to go back to normal when he's over his snit. No apology, no admitting he did anything wrong. Just let's pretend that never happened. And Harry lets him!"

"That is annoying. I had friend that did that. He lost many friends, including me, before he realized he was problem."

"I hope that doesn't happen. Ron can be a great friend, when he wants to be. He tends to act first and think second, if he thinks at all. I'm tired of being taken for granted. Like I'll always be there and just keep forgiving him without a show of remorse."

"That is understandable and fair."

She narrowed her eyes, "Are you agreeing with me because you think I'm right or because you're afraid I'll light someone's hair on fire?"

He chuckled, "Why cannot be both? You are not wrong in how you feel. You have concerns about their behavior. And if you stay angry you will light someone on fire. Hopefully, just their hair. But maybe try clothing instead. Burnt hair smells horrible." She laughed at his joke, feeling lighter having shared her feelings and not been told she was wrong or needed to be more understanding.

oOo

Lyall informed her that with the upcoming increase in Hunt activity would be her training. "Real life applications of the things you have been learning, mixed with my desire not to miss out. Just don't sword fight anyone, you are not ready for that."

"Noted and agreed. Though I see the real reason comes out. You don't like to miss the fun."

"Yes, well, remember that in the future. Moving on, lightning seems to be your forte. Lots of that in the thunderstorms of this season. Directing existing bolts will help you gain a feel for them, and I think that is all you will need to jolt you to the next level. Legendary Druids are like that. One day you struggle then everything falls into place and you have mastered it."

"That would require a thunderstorm during a ride," she pointed out.

"This time of year there will undoubtedly be plenty." He grinned, " Wild nights are our glory, yours especially. That is why we are called the Wild Hunt. And calling your element is the last task to earn your title. Though your combat training will continue for some time."

"We can't be instantly great at everything," she retorted causing him to roar with laughter. "But as a storm seems to be brewing, I suppose I will see you tomorrow regardless."

"Quite likely."

Hermione woke to a drizzle that impaired her vision during the morning run. She strolled under her umbrella through the downpour to the outer greenhouses that afternoon as the others scurried expressing the wish that they had classes in the ones connected to the school this term. She seemed to be the only one refreshed by it. By supper the heavens had opened up and a full Highlands thunderstorm unleashed its fury upon them. The Drumstrang and Beaubatons students sought shelter in the castle that night judging it dangerous to remain in the carriage and on the ship. Hermione napped after classes instead of sorting through her homework. After dinner she tightly braided her hair in preparation. Then she settled down with a book to await the summons. The burning sensation caught her attention as she finished the chapter for Ancient Runes. She closed the book and collected her bag. "Finished already?" asked Neville clearly surprised. He glanced at the clock on the mantel. "It's barely 8 o'clock. Who are you and what have you done with Hermione?"

"I just can't concentrate tonight," she lied smoothly. "The weather, I think." Another thunderclap rattled the windows. He hunched his shoulders and nodded. She hurried to her room. She fixed the bed to give the illusion of someone sleeping and closed the curtains before making her way to the gathering Hunt.

The other huntsmen greeted her enthusiastically and by name as she passed. Finn waved her over, "Lady Hermione, allow me to introduce my sister, Princess Fionana. She swears she cannot miss the fun of this evening. And her companion, Lord Connovar."

Hermione bowed to the woman, "My greetings this fine evening, your highness." The princess inclined her head in acknowledgment.

"Fine evening?" whined Connovar incredulously. "Are all mortals so touched in the head?"

Hermione shrugged, "Such wild nights are my glory." On a whim she attempted to nudge a striking lightning bolt closer, enjoying the foppish male's nervous twitch. She felt exhilaration at her success in manipulating the electricity and making the would be bully flinch. Una drew her away ostensibly to admire her hairstyle, declaring she had never thought to create two braids in that style.

"Ignore Connovar, he's an annoying hanger on," whisper Una. "But Fionana seems to like him."

"He'll have to try harder if he wants to hurt my feelings," reported Hermione.

"I should hope so," sniffed Una. "He's a fool, a fop, and worse, a bore." Hermione grimaced in fake horror causing the fae to throw her head back roaring her laughter.

Lachlan called the riders to attention, ordering them to mount their waiting steeds. Osgar offered his arm, "Lyall would escort you, but all of us expressing our acceptance and support raises you in Fionana's esteem."

"Which we want?"

"Which never hurts. She's adorable and useful at court. Her paramour is a pest to be tolerated."

"I see." Stormbringer tossed his mane scenting her approach. She patted his neck, "Hello, my friend. Are you ready to run tonight?" He stomped the ground in response. "Me, too." She stepped towards the saddle when a petulant voice stopped her.

"Why is the mortal riding such a fine horse? She should have mine," Connovar complained.

Hermione looked to Finn and Lyall for guidance. The former groaned and rolled his eyes. The latter spoke up, "The princess selected your mounts personally. She wishes for you to match, I believe." He indicated the steel gray geldings near the doors.

"No, I will have the mortal's mount. She can ride one of those docile creatures." Connovar waved his hand dismissively in the direction of the horses.

"So be it. Next time, my friend," Hermione patted her mount's neck in farewell. "Have fun without me." She retook Osgar's arm. "When he falls on his face are we allowed to laugh?"

"Oh yes," he whispered. He escorted her to the new mount. "Even guests must earn their mounts."

Hermione greeted the smaller horse, giving him time to acclimated to her scent. "I hope we can be friendly." The horse responded in a positive manner. "Very well." She swung into the saddle looking around in the flickering firelight inside the wooden stable. She watched as Connovar attempted and failed to mount Stormbringer twice before succeeding. Fionana looked away, a pinched look on her flawless face. "My apologies, your highness."

"I am not vexed with you, Tempest. What choice did you have in this matter?"

"None, as you are our guests. But, I can still empathize. I, too, have had my counsel overlooked because men knew best."

Fionana regarded her for a moment, "I hope the fools only made that mistake once."

"A fate, I pray is shared," she answered.

Rain pounded the earth and everything between. The thunder rumbled overhead, occasionally crashing as lightning struck the ground instead of remaining in the clouds. The wind whipped through the trees. The riders charged on soaked to the skin, chilled to the bone, and oblivious to it all. Hermione connected with the storm. She felt the lightning bolts forming, sensed which would connect with the ground, and began control them. Those in their path she moved aside, either keeping them from descending or having them land elsewhere. Some she pulled closer to heighten the excitement of the race. Wild joy sang in her veins as they plunged through the forest. Her gray mount was no comparison to Stormbringer, but all mounts chosen for the Wild Hunt were built for speed. That night they followed the thunderstorm across numerous planes. Different people and beasts joined them, then departed, left behind when the Hunt exited their plane of existence. They rode without purpose or goal, just to experience the chaos of the storm. Adrenaline coursed through her body, causing it to sing with wild abandon. She hardly noticed, or cared, that they rode until the sky began to lighten with the coming dawn. The Wild Hunt stables came into view and the energy shifted.

As they slowed Stormbringer reared and bucked in protest to something Connovar did, or perhaps just to Connovar. He finally succeed in tossing his unwanted rider. Connovar crumbled on the wet ground in a heap before him. The bedraggled fae stumbled to his feet cursing. Mud and dirty water dripped from his face and hair. His linen shirt now stained brown. The Wild Hunt roared with laughter. He snapped his arms to knock some of muck off. He glared, looking about to find a target for his rage. His eyes landed on Hermione. "You! This is all your fault!"

Instead of cowering like he anticipated, she raised an eyebrow haughtily, "And just how is any of this my fault?"

"This stupid monster was to be your mount."

"You demanded to ride my magnificent friend. As you are a guest I acquiesced, at the risk offending your paramour who wished to match mounts with you. Not my fault you proved unaccomplished enough to ride him."

He stomped over to her and attempted to loom over her menacingly, "Look here, human scum."

She raised a fire encased hand, feeding the flames with air currents, "Excuse me? Human scum? Look here, you troglodytic arse, you demanded my mount. A mount I earned. You embarrassed yourself by failing to ride him. Your attempt to make yourself feel superior now is pathetic." She gave him a scathing look. "I am the Tempest of the Wild Hunt." Wind snapped her cloak back dramatically. "And I will not be intimidated by the likes of you. Take another step and I will make you the bonfire." The flames brightened. "Try me." She maintained eye contact. With her left hand she pulled down a lightning bolt on either side of them.

Connovar flinched, then looked nervously about for support. But like sharks who scented blood, the others circled. "I that, is..."

"Apologize to me and the princess and you walk away unscathed," she commanded, "at least physically."

Seeing no support he caved, "I apologize. I was in error, my lady." He looked at Fionana, "I am sorry, my love." He hung his head.

Hermione nodded and vanished the flames. She turned to Fionana and bobbed her head. She addressed Finn, "Until next time." He nodded farewell and she left, returning to her dorm.