Hermione thought that being surrounded by aurors was a nuisance. And she wasn't exactly wrong. Even Harry didn't like the fact that they were coming along. But Harry didn't like any extra attention.
But if there was one thing that Harry found more annoying than anything else was not knowing something that Draco Malfoy was privy to. And it sounded as if Malfoy knew something that would be going on at Hogwarts that year.
And Ron wasn't too pleased about Malfoy knowing something that he could use to further torment the Weasleys. But Hermione knew that there wasn't much that could be done about that. But she also knew that if Malfoy did know something, he wasn't supposed to know and he was very aware of that.
If he said anything, Hermione wasn't above calling him out on it. Malfoy knew that. He was also certain that something was going on.
She sat in her compartment, quill in hand. She had a few pens, but had put them in her trunk, where they had fallen to the bottom. She hadn't been able to grab one that morning, and had settled for a quill and parchment instead.
Dear Viktor,
She paused, looking at the words. While someone might be able to guess Viktor's name, they wouldn't know exactly to whom she was writing. Not that they would even know she'd been writing a letter.
First I want to ask how you are. It feels like a rather silly question, seeing as we will probably talk before this gets to you. But I want to know how you are.
Something strange is going on here. I'm not sure what it is, but I'm fairly certain that it's something big. And you should have heard Malfoy, he's one of the more pretentious boys in my year, talking about how his father nearly sent him to Durmstrang. I think he knows something. Not sure what yet.
I do know that I had to get dress robes recently. So something is definitely going to be different this year. No one has had dress robes on their school list for as long as I've known about it.
What's going on in Bulgaria? Are you still in school, or did you graduate already? I just realized that I don't actually know how old you are?
I know this sounds silly since we're almost certainly going to have another conversation soon, but please write me back.
Hermione.
She looked down at what she had written, satisfied. She would send it off later that evening, maybe with a post script if necessary. She would rather use one of the school owls than ask Harry to use Hedwig. He would ask who she was sending a letter to so quickly.
That was a question she wanted to avoid. She also wanted to avoid the questions of what she was doing. She folded up her parchment and rolled her eyes at the boys.
"Just because you're perfectly content to wait until we start class to start learning and practicing things does not mean that I am."
"Come on Mione," Ron whined, "we don't mean that. We were just curious."
Harry elbowed Ron in the side. "As curious as we are, we shouldn't invade on your privacy. But if you ever want to share what you're working on, we'll listen." He shot a glare at Ron.
"Of course we will," Ron said.
Hermione was dubious. Ron had a bad habit of tuning her out whenever she talked about something she was excited about. Which was one of his more aggravating flaws. The most annoying was his habit of forgetting that there was food in his mouth when he tried to speak. It was gross.
"It's fine. It's just a personal project on something I'm interested in. And I know you guys wouldn't want to hear about it." She shrugged their questions away.
The rest of the train ride was spent in relative silence. Hermione was anxious to get to Hogwarts. Anxious to start classes. Anxious to send her letter. Anxiety was coming off her in waves.
The boys didn't notice. They spent a rather large portion of their time stuffing their faces with sweets. Never mind that there would be a feast that evening.
Hermione shuddered at the sight of them chewing so fast that it looked like they could hardly breathe. It wasn't exactly a pleasant sight. She instead tried to read one of the novels she had bought. But she had only gotten ten pages in when it was time to change into her robes.
She dressed in the restroom, pulling her sleeves down as far as they could go. Words of comfort from Viktor were written on the inside of her arm.
Darling, do not worry. You are smart. You are kind. You are going to be okay. And we shall see each other sooner than you think.
Hermione wasn't sure what to make of that last sentence. She wasn't sure when they would see each other again. She supposed, as soulmates it would makes sense for them to meet each other again. Particularly since they both seemed to like each other.
But there was the little issue of distance. He lived in Bulgaria. He played quiditch in Bulgaria. Sure there was some travel, but she wasn't sure where.
She lived in England. Sure, Hogwarts was in Scotland, but that was just north of England on the same island. It wasn't exactly closer to Bulgaria.
She shook her head, glad that she would see Viktor soon enough. She couldn't shake him out of her thoughts. And she wasn't sure that she wanted to.
Instead, she allowed part of her mind to drift as she, Harry, and Ron rode the carriages to the castle and walked to the great hall. They were talking quiditch. Ron was thinking of trying out for the team, and Harry was giving him some pointers for tryouts.
Hermione briefly wished that she had a friend that was a girl to talk to. She would be able to avoid some of the sports talk, and might actually be able to sit with someone who managed to chew and swallow before they spoke.
But that thought was pushed out of her mind as Neville came up to her. He had grown a bit over the summer, and looked somewhat happy to be back at school. Though he wasn't exactly one of her best friends, he certainly avoided the troubles of sports metaphors and speaking with food in his mouth.
"How are you?" she asked him.
"Good. I got a few new Herbology books, and Professor Sprout is going to let me help her in the greenhouses in one of my free periods." He sounded beyond excited. "How are things going with you?"
She smiled. "I'm just excited to be back."
Neville laughed. "That's our Hermione. You can't stop her from wanting to be at school."
She nodded and gave a laugh. While it was true that Hogwarts was one of her favourite places on earth, she wasn't sure that it was going to be as magical a year as she had hoped. And she desperately hoped that she could find some way to make the year spectacular.
They sat down for the sorting ceremony. They cheered for the Gryffindor, clapped for the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and Harry and Ron would have jeered at the new Slytherins had Hermione not stopped them.
"They're eleven," she hissed. "Be nice to them. They might be good if they have a good influence."
"You remember Malfoy!" Ron said indignantly.
"And you met his father. You can't tell me that he was born evil." Her glare silenced both the boys and she ate her food quietly.
After the feast, Dumbledore gave a few words to the first years and then made an announcement that turned the school upside down. Quiditch was canceled. And the Triwizard Tournament would be held at Hogwarts. Students from Beauxbeatons and Durmstrang would be arriving to compete.
Hermione felt her heart take flight at the news. Her fingers itched to write to Viktor. But she would wait until after dinner. She could do that at least.
Desert came and went, along with the arrival of one Mad-eye Moody. He was going to teach defense against the dark arts that year. It was going to be interesting to have lessons from a professional auror.
The feast over, Hermione flew up the stairs to Gryffindor tower. She wrote a short post script on the letter and dashed over to the owlery. She selected one of the heartier owls for her task, having no clue where Durmstrang was located.
Her letter sent on its way, she returned to her room. She pulled the curtains around her, and summoned a pen from her trunk.
How are you? She wrote.
Doing well. And how are you?
Rather excited. They told us about the Triwizard tournament. I assume that you're coming over for that.
You would be right.
Hermione took a few deep breaths. She was going to get to see Viktor soon. Sooner than she had dared hope for.
I'm glad. I want to see you again. And you did promise to teach me to speak Bulgarian.
That I did. I'm looking forward to that. Even if I don't become the champion for my school, I will have something worth so much more than eternal glory.
Hermione blushed. She supposed she would have to get used to such comments.