Hermione sat with her head in a book in the great hall. After every paragraph, she would glance around, watching to see who was brave enough to put their name into the goblet.

She had watched the Weasley twins try, and come out of it with beards. The beards weren't bad, but she laughed that they thought they could outsmart Dumbledore with a simple aging potion. Of course he would have thought of something like that.

No one had asked for her advice on getting into the tournament. That was probably for the best. She would have at least attempted to talk anyone who tried out of it. People had died in the tournament. And she wasn't about to forget that.

But if someone had asked her what to do about the line, she would have probably helped them in the end. And she would have smiled coyly as she suggested that they ask someone else to place their name in the goblet.

She shook her head as she watched the seventeen year olds cajole each other on. Wizards didn't like to ask for help. And they thought that magic was the way to solve everything. Sometimes simpler was better.

She attempted to focus on her book. The story had actually been interesting before she had distracted herself with thinking about the tournament. And then, her mind fuzzed over.

Viktor had walked into the room, his steps deliberate. She could feel his eyes on her, her skin tingling where he looked, without even seeing him.

She tried desperately to keep looking at her book. But as her cheeks burned brighter, she knew that she couldn't keep up the act for long. She pulled her head out of the book long enough to admire Viktor as he placed his name in the cup.

He held her glance, walking away far too quickly for either of their liking. She put a bookmark in her novel, knowing that she wouldn't be able to focus on it for several hours.

Harry and Ron were looking at the circle. Harry was grateful to have a reason to avoid the competition. Otherwise, everyone their year would have expected him to enter, and he wanted to avoid danger if it was at all possible.

On the other hand, Ron was desperate for a chance to prove himself. And he wished that he could put his name in the goblet. If his name came out, it would prove to the world that he was worth something.

She pulled her sleeves down to cover the word on her arm. Just one word, but it spoke volumes.

Library?

She put the novel into her bag. It was much lighter since she wasn't carrying around textbooks on a Saturday.

"Going to the library?" Harry asked.

"I just want to look something up," she said. It wasn't a lie. It was just that the something was a someone. Just a little detail that Harry didn't need to know.

"Let her go Harry," Ron said. "She can't ever get her head out of books."

She shook her head at Ron's insensitivity. For what felt like the hundredth time, she asked herself why she was friends with him. He wasn't the best friend a person could hope for.

But, she could still remember the smell of the troll from first year. And she could recall how it felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest when Harry and Ron showed up to rescue her. And she couldn't ever forget that they had saved her from certain death.

Though they might sometimes be prats, they always came through when things got hard. And Ron had put himself, broken leg and all, in front of Harry Potter. Harry had survived the killing curse once, and was probably the best equipped to handle the situation. But Ron protected him as best he could.

That was the way their friendship worked. Hermione was the brains. Ron was the heart, and soul. And Harry, well Harry was Harry. But they fit together in a way that no one understood.

She found that while she was thinking, her feet had walked her up to the library. She hesitated in the hall for just a moment, not wanting to be around Viktor while fuming over Ron and his insensitivity.

But she shook her head and walked in to the library. And a wave of calm washed over her like the incoming tide washed over the beach.

Viktor was hiding behind a stack of books, doing a fairly bad job of trying to blend in.

She tapped him on the shoulder. "Hello."

He turned around, already knowing who was behind him. But he wanted to pick her up, twirl her and kiss her. And he knew that it wasn't the right time or place for such things.

"Hello," he responded instead.

The stood there in silence for a moment, the air around them growing tense. While there wasn't any outside pressure for things to work out between them, they both wanted it to. And they weren't sure what to do.

"How was your day?" Hermione asked trying to break the ice.

"It vas alright. It got much better vhen a pretty young vitch agreed to meet me here." He winked at her.

She felt her cheeks grow red again. With as much as he complimented her and flirted with her she thought that she ought to be used to it by then. But she wasn't. And she wasn't sure that she ever would be.

"Vhat is on your mind?" Viktor asked.

"I was just thinking that you are a horrible flirt," she muttered.

"Am not horrible. I flirt vell," he teased.

She laughed at that. "No. It's an expression. It means that you flirt a lot. Not that you're bad at it."

He nodded his head, mulling over her words. He seemed satisfied that she wasn't insulting his attempts to woo her. And that was the most important thing.

"So, does it bother you?" he asked her.

Hermione shook her head. "I actually find it rather endearing. But I'm not used to hearing someone talk about me so pleasantly."

He kissed her hand. "Then they are blind fools."

She flushed again. "Are you just going to compliment me?"

"If that is vhat it takes for you to believe me, I vill compliment you all day every day," he promised. "But is not vhy I wanted to meet you. I believe I said I vould teach you how to speak Bulgarian."

They spent the next hour going over the basic sounds of the alphabet. Viktor assured Hermione that once she got that down, words would be much easier to understand. After all, the writing was fairly phonetic. And she could read and write.

When they reluctantly parted ways, it was to go to dinner. And neither of them was eager to go. They even walked down the stairs together, each stealing glances at the other.

They finally parted ways just before the great hall. They knew that it would seem unusual for them to arrive at the same time. But they wanted to spend as much time together as possible.

At dinner, Harry and Ron filled her in on who had put their names into the goblet of fire. She wasn't particularly interested. The one person she had wanted to see put his name in, had done so. But she wasn't about to let Ron or Harry know that.

"And then Cassius Warrington put his name into the hat," Ron said distastefully.

"And?"

"What do you mean Hermione?" Ron screeched. "He's a Slytherin!"

"That doesn't make him a death eater," Hermione said. "Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor."

Harry nodded his head. "And he betrayed his best friends." His voice was solemn.

"Better Warrington than Malfoy," Ron admitted.

"Only because Malfoy would use it to torment Harry," Hermione agreed.

From where she sat she could see that Malfoy was sitting next to Viktor, talking his ear off. Viktor had said as few words as possible, and she suspected they were in Bulgarian.

A slight smile crossed her face at the thought, and both of the boys picked up on it.

"What's funny Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I was just thinking that Krum looks irritated with Malfoy," she said. It felt weird to refer to Viktor by his last name. Almost wrong even.

"He does," Ron said. "Who knew? Malfoy can alienate himself from just about anyone."

They all laughed at that thought. Apparently power and money wasn't enough to make people like you.

"Hey, Hermione," Neville said timidly. "I know you probably have stuff to do later, but do you want to read in the common room later? My gran sent me a book I think you'd like. And maybe you could recommend something to me."

"Sure thing Neville." Hermione smiled at him. "I actually have a few I'm done with. What are you looking for?"

"Something I can understand. The book Professor Moody gave me on plants is all well and nice, and something I can comprehend. But I kind of want something a little less school related. Unless you have something that will help me so that potions won't explode in my face," he said.

The walked up the stairs, Hermione going over every single book she had in her head. She had a list of things that Neville might like by the time they got there.

"Wait here," she said. And she hurried up to her dorm. Grabbing a few books, she absentmindedly stuck a few things in her pockets. Most were bits of rubbish, but a pen or two found its way in there as well.

She headed down, excited to spend some time doing something she loved, with a friend who actually didn't mind. And wanted to read as well.

She went over the options, and he selected a muggle novel about a teenager in a world where the environment itself could be deadly. It was called "Under the Never Sky." It wasn't one that Hermione had actually suspected he would like, but she had grabbed it on a whim. She was glad she had.

The book that Neville's grandmother had sent him was all about ancient magic. It was something that most students would find a tad dry, but Hermione lapped the knowledge up like it was water in a desert.

There was a section on house elves, and the traditions about them. It turns out that they found serving the most righteous act and had dedicated their entire lives to it. It sounded awfully religious, but she suspected that wizards had once had religion. She made a note to ask Winky about house elves the next chance she got.

And the section on soulmates was one that she had hoped for, but hadn't dared to admit it to herself for fear of heartbreak.

As she had suspected, soulmates were an unusual thing. And it wasn't often that they found each other and loved one another. Most soulmates were best friends, and they usually didn't become more than that.

For a brief moment Hermione wondered if Harry and Ron were soulmates. But she quickly decided that was none of her business. After all, she didn't want them to know that she and Viktor were soulmates.

She read until Harry and Ron came up, then closed the book. She, Neville, Harry, and Ron sat talking until the fire started to dwindle. None of them had realized it had gotten so late.

"I guess we should go to bed," Neville said.

"You're probably right," Ron said.

"We should do this again soon," Harry added. "I haven't had this much fun in ages."

"Me neither," Hermione said. She stretched her back. "But I really should get to bed."

They bid each other goodnight, and headed up to their dorms. Hermione felt sad to leave, but she knew that sleep was a good idea. Especially after the day she had had.

She changed into her pajamas, noticing the writing on her wrist.

Goodnight my darling.

Goodnight Viktor she whispered as sleep claimed her.

A/N: Yay for more Neville. I seriously love him. He's so fun to play with. And I don't know, but this may take off into uncharted territory here with Warington as the Hogwarts champion. If there are qualms with this idea, please let me know. And I do think the idea of having Harry and Ron as platonic soulmates is perfect. Because your soulmate might not be your significant other.