Chapter 12: Bad boys with pure hearts.

Hermione silently apologized to her mother, but after hearing that Viktor was returning to Hogwarts (and wanted to meet with her), she didn't feel capable of writing a response to the letter she hadn't even read yet. She was almost certain that if she tried, she would only manage to write three or four disjointed and confusing lines, just like she felt at that moment.

She was excited to see Viktor again after so long, though part of her feared that the reunion might bring back the feelings she once had for him. She was sure that what she felt for Malfoy was so recent that it wouldn't disappear just because she saw Krum again. So, could she handle the situation? How would it feel to have feelings for two boys at the same time? Was that even possible? It had never happened to her before, and her head was spinning just thinking about it.

She gathered her things and ran to her first class of the morning, already late, which was quite unlike her.

She had so many things going on in her head that she only realized the class was with Slytherin when she saw Ron sitting with Blaise, who was next to Pansy, and she was next to Harry. Her friend gestured for her to sit next to him, but Hermione didn't notice it because she was busy looking for someone else.

She didn't find him.

Draco Malfoy wasn't there. Neither was Daphne.

Great.

It didn't take a genius to figure out they were somewhere in the castle, probably spending time together to reconcile.

Hermione felt a sharp disappointment rise in her gut and climb to her chest when she realized something: he had wasted no time running back to Greengrass's arms once he was freed and no longer bound to her.

It was clear. She had been just an obstacle separating him from the golden-haired girl and her toxic company for an entire week. Nothing more.

And why was she so surprised? Why did she let herself be flooded with that feeling of disappointment that soaked her like a cold rain in winter? He had told her himself that he loved Daphne. If she had harbored the slightest, tiniest, most minuscule hope that Malfoy might notice her, it was her problem and hers alone.

She couldn't blame him for not having the same feelings for her. Damn, just a week ago, the whole thing would have seemed laughable! Hermione Granger suffering from unrequited love for Draco Malfoy. Absolutely ridiculous.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione realized too late that she had been standing there breathing unevenly, and that all the eyes in the classroom were on her, including those of the History of Magic professor, who raised his bushy eyebrow slightly at her uncharacteristic behavior.

"Miss Granger, please take a seat. The class has already started."

Hermione took a deep breath, picked her dignity up off the floor, and did the unthinkable: she took the last seat in the classroom, the farthest from the board.

She would have preferred to run out of there and go somewhere else, but the professor had already seen her and she didn't want to get a warning. Not at this point in the school year.

However, she didn't feel like paying attention to a lesson she already knew. She had already read and intensely studied the witch hunts of the 15th to 18th centuries during her second year at Hogwarts.

Disgusted, she took out her book to pretend and then opened her mother's letter.

Nothing new. Or rather, nothing interesting. Her father had given her mother flowers for their anniversary and they had gone to dinner at an Italian restaurant near Westminster. She also mentioned that they had new neighbors around the corner, and that the local shop had become a "24-hour open" store, which was quite convenient for when her mother got her typical urge to bake cookies at two in the morning. In the last paragraph, her mother emphasized how much they missed her and how much they looked forward to her graduation, and finally, she asked if Hermione had already ordered her dress with the savings she had given her during the last holidays.

Hermione took out a parchment and forced herself to write a response. She didn't feel inspired to write anything original, but she knew she had to send the letter quickly and that she couldn't postpone it any longer. Procrastination wasn't a typical trait of hers and her mother knew it. So, in addition to the delay in the response, her mother would likely notice something odd in her words… like her slightly shaky handwriting or the lack of emotion in her sentences. It seemed impossible, right? How could anyone tell she wasn't okay just from a letter? But mothers knew things. They sensed things. And most of the time, they were always right.

She would risk her mother hitting the nail on the head with her motherly superpowers, no matter how much talking and therapy she would have to endure afterward when her mother adopted the role of her personal psychologist.

If mothers had one thing, it was that they could be as multifaceted as their children needed.

The letter was brief, but it was all she could manage at the moment. She folded it and put it in her bag, being the first to leave the class when it ended. Even so, she was intercepted by Parkinson before she could turn the corner.

"Sorry about your heartbreak, dear."

"I don't have a heartbreak," she snapped quickly, looking straight ahead to avoid her eyes giving her away.

"Well, we all saw you in there," continued the Slytherin, who had to quicken her pace to keep up with Hermione's long strides. "Though I'm proud to say that only I know why you short-circuited for the first time in your life."

Hermione scoffed.

"You think you're so smart, don't you? Well, you're wrong! Malfoy means absolutely nothing to me."

"Honey, you do realize no one had mentioned Draco until now, right?"

Hermione made a sound of frustration and changed her course to try to shake off the girl… but she didn't lose sight of her even amid the commotion in the hallways between classes.

Pansy grabbed her arm and forced her to stop in a corner hidden behind an old armor.

"If it makes you feel any better, I would vote for you if it were up to me to decide my friend's partner. You seem like a better option than Daphne."

Hermione's eyes welled up a bit, and she immediately reprimanded herself and ordered herself to calm down.

She knew she wasn't fooling anyone, least of all Pansy Parkinson, so she stopped trying to deny it and simply said, "I have to go; I'm late for my next class."

But the Slytherin grabbed her arm again to stop her.

"Wait, we still need to talk about the plan to find out what happened to Longbottom."

Hermione sighed but decided to give her a couple of minutes to explain. However, her "plan" was easy to tell because it only took a minute and a half. Basically, she said that Hermione had to turn into Daphne with Polyjuice Potion to get information from Astoria about Neville's whereabouts.

Hermione laughed, but her expression turned to horror when she realized Parkinson was completely serious.

"Why me?" she snapped. "Why don't you impersonate her? You know her better than I do."

"Because Astoria would suspect if she didn't see me around the common room when 'Daphne' asked her about Longbottom. That girl is always on the lookout for any inconsistency. She's very distrustful, and she already has her eye on me."

She shrugged and sighed, as if she really wanted to do it herself but the circumstances wouldn't allow it.

Hermione couldn't imagine impersonating Daphne Greengrass; she would feel awful stepping into her shoes knowing that she and Malfoy had probably gotten back together. Besides, she was scared of getting caught in the act. How could she impersonate someone she barely knew? It was very likely that Astoria would strangle her with her own hands if she discovered what she was doing. She was going to refuse. Hermione Granger was going to refuse such nonsense. But Pansy beat her to it and opened her palm, showing her a couple of small balls that looked like flesh-colored putty.

"Did you think I would leave you to your fate? I bought this on the black market for the occasion," she informed her. "It's super innovative. You put it in your ear. One is for you and one for me. With this, I can hear what's happening around you and what you say, and vice versa. That way, I can communicate with you if Astoria takes you somewhere else or asks you questions you don't know how to answer. Apparently, students use it to cheat on exams, but we'll use it for something more productive."

"Parkinson, I don't…"

"Don't you want to know what happened to your friend? Because he's still missing, right?"

Hermione looked at her intently, filling with rage for a moment. This was emotional blackmail… but it was working.

She pressed her lips tightly together and snatched one of the balls from her hand.

The day continued to pass with astonishing slowness. Hermione didn't see Malfoy or Greengrass during lunch, nor did she hear anything from Viktor or know how to find him. She yawned. Only those who hadn't already passed both subjects had to attend the last two classes of the day, so she decided to head back to her common room for a nap. She was exhausted. The whirlwind of emotions inside her had left her feeling knocked out, and the idea of surrendering to the arms of Morpheus was incredibly tempting. At least that way, she could stop overthinking for a while.

She was already heading towards her common room when, suddenly, an elf appeared in front of her with a snap, making her scream in fright.

"Miss Granger? Mr. Krum requests your presence."

Before she had time to react, he grabbed her hand and they Disapparated together. When Hermione's feet touched solid ground again, the first thing she saw was the silhouette of a man outlined by the bright summer sun streaming in from outside. The man stood with his back to her, under the threshold of the wide-open entrance doors, gazing at the castle grounds with his hands in the pockets of his Durmstrang uniform trousers.

Hermione felt her heartbeat increase alarmingly as that perfectly defined torso turned, and her former flame noticed her.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, taking a couple of strides to reach her and lifting her into an enthusiastic hug that she hadn't seen coming but made her laugh for the first time that day. "Look at you, you're gorgeous!"

The girl blushed uncontrollably.

"You're not looking too bad yourself," she said when he put her down, and not because she felt obliged to return the compliment, but because it was true.

She could see Viktor Krum, but at the same time, he wasn't the same Viktor with whom she had once shared kisses and intimate moments. Her Viktor had a rounder face and a less lean body than the one standing before her. The man had lost some weight and toned his figure, and now there was no trace of that characteristic teenage look. His jaw was well-defined, with almost imperceptible little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His shoulders were broader, and the veins in his forearms were visible under his skin. Viktor had become a man in every sense of the word.

"It's been at least a century since I last heard from you!" he said, and Hermione noticed that his accent hadn't changed a bit, although there was now a certain fluency in the language that he hadn't had before. "How have you been, little one?"

Hermione would never have bet that she could blush more than she already was, but against all odds, she did. Her face burned, and she felt slightly dizzy, all because of those last words.

"Little one."

That's what he used to call her during the time they spent together, and hearing it again so many years later was… strange. But in a good way. As if she suddenly became a fifteen-year-old girl again, hopelessly in love with the typical bad boy you know isn't good for you. Deep down, she had always known that their relationship had no future, and yet she had decided to get romantically involved with him because, despite his rough and unyielding appearance, Viktor had a sweet and tender character that he only showed when they were alone.

This thought made her realize something she had always overlooked until that moment: she had a very clear type of guy. She was surprised to admit to herself that she liked bad boys, rebels who even behaved like real scoundrels. However, it was essential for her to see that within them there was a soft and sweet part, honest and almost vulnerable.

The rest of the boys were boring to her.

Was that the reason Draco Malfoy had never caught her attention until she had the chance to glimpse his more delicate, fragile side?

"I'm fine," she said with too much fervor, answering Viktor's question but also trying to convince herself at the same time.

Why was she still thinking about Malfoy?

She wanted to punch herself for being ridiculous. She had to stop before she acknowledged she was starting to obsess in a worrying way.

"Shall we go?" she said, eager to head to Hogsmeade to forget about Malfoy as soon as possible. Viktor offered his arm like a true gentleman for her to take, and they walked together.

The conversation between them flowed naturally, just as it had years ago when they first met. Hermione told him how things were going at Hogwarts and shared a bit about her future projects, like getting a job at the Ministry of Magic, specifically in the Department of Mysteries, since she loved challenges that tested her intellect and investigative skills. She also wanted to explore rare curses and possible ways to counteract them, but she didn't mention this to Viktor because the desire had arisen from knowing about Malfoy's case, and she intended to pursue it secretly in her spare time.

Viktor, in turn, talked about how he had become a professor at Durmstrang and how he was getting along with his students. He also explained that Hogwarts and his school wanted to implement a student exchange program so that students could learn new languages while studying different forms of magic from what they were used to. According to the headmasters, this would be an advantageous and enriching activity for all who wanted to participate, which was why Viktor was there: to finalize details and represent the school he came from. He told her that they were negotiating with schools like Beauxbatons, Ilvermorny, Castelobruxo, and others to join the initiative.

"I'm going to be so jealous for not having the opportunity to participate in something like this during my years at Hogwarts," Hermione said, absentmindedly watching the silver spoon stir her lavender tea on its own.

They had sat at a table by the window in a newly opened café in Hogsmeade. It only dawned on her that the place was too sophisticated for Viktor when she saw his huge, robust body seated in the delicate pink upholstered chair by the stone wall, under decorative paintings of sweets and cakes that looked like they could cause diabetes with one bite, along with a few white kittens and cheesy phrases like "Love and cupcakes can do anything."

Ugh.

Hermione made a mental note never to return to that place. The tea was good (maybe a bit too sweet), but everything was so pink it felt like seeing through a cotton candy filter.

She was internally shuddering when she noticed Viktor looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Sorry, did you say something? I was too busy feeling overwhelmed by this place to listen," she joked, and the man laughed heartily, disrupting the relaxed atmosphere of the café.

The girl behind the counter gave him a disapproving look, judging the decibels of his laughter.

"Yes, little one. I was saying that I was never a fan of keeping in touch by correspondence, and if something like this had existed when we met, I would have definitely applied for a place at Hogwarts. You know, to be close to you."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. In the past, she had felt very strongly for this man, and knowing that the only thing that had broken their bond was the distance, hearing him say something like that only served to hurt the fifteen-year-old Hermione who still lived inside her and was still in love with him.

Had he stayed there with her, she was sure their relationship would have thrived and lasted longer.

"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?" he asked, noticing the growing discomfort in her. "Do you have feelings for another guy? Are you seeing someone?"

Hermione took a sip of her tea to buy time while she thought about what to say.

Then, something caught her attention outside the café.

Two people, to be exact: Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass walking through Hogsmeade, very close to each other.

By the time Hermione processed what she was seeing through the glass, the beautiful blonde girl intertwined her fingers with Malfoy's.

Then, they walked past and disappeared from view.

She felt the violet tea she had just swallowed turn into a stone lodged in her throat. A stone full of nails.

Her chest tightened in pain.

"No, of course not," she said, and for a moment her voice sounded strangled. She cleared her throat and then swallowed with difficulty, but the stone didn't move from where it was. "In fact, we can continue the conversation later in... in..."

"A more private place?" he ventured with a mischievous smile on his lips. "I could show you my room."

Hermione stood up with a start.

She needed a stronger distraction than tea and casual conversation in a pink café. She needed to do something to get rid of that pain. Something radical that would be effective against the pressure in her chest and the threat of imminent tears.

She had to act, and fast.

"How about you show it to me now?"

And with that, she headed out of there to get to Hogwarts (and Viktor's room) as quickly as possible.