Viktor returned to the table he had seen Hermione headed towards as he left to get drinks. He saw Harry and... Ron, was it? sitting there alone.
"Vare is Herm-own-ninny?"
"No idea." Replied the redhead, scowling at him. "Lost her, have you?"
"Vell, if you see her, tell her I haff drinks." He turned from them unhappily to go and search for his date.
He found her at another table on the other end of the Great Hall, sitting with several people. She saw him coming from the corner of her eye and turned to face him, smiling. He returned her smile gratefully.
"Here is your drink, Herm-own-ninny."
"Thank you. Oh, Viktor, I'd like you to meet Seamus, Lavender, Neville, and Ginny. They're all in Gryffindor with me."
"It is a pleasure to meet you all."
He sat and they all talked for awhile. Then he and Herm-own-ninny had finished their butterbeers and gone to dance again. He didn't really care for dancing, usually. He was a teenage boy, after all, and a very awkward one at that. It's difficult to dance when you're used to flying. But somehow it wasn't difficult with her. He liked dancing with her, he liked being with her in any way he could. She made him smile. She talked with him and really listened to what he said. She didn't flatter him. He was able to believe it wasn't about the Quidditch thing with her. That she didn't mind that it was difficult for him to be on the ground. Or that he couldn't get her name to roll off his tongue properly. And he was right. He knew he was.
"Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?"
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"
<.br>"Well - well - that just proves - completely missed the point -"
He hadn't anticipated the second task as well as he ought to have done. And when he did figure it out he didn't want to admit to himself what would be down there. But he wasn't surprised at all to see that it was her. It was scary, though. In many ways. Though, now that she knew, and now that he could no longer hide from it, he might as well as not... In retrospect he supposed the adrenaline still coursing through his veins was mostly to blame. But he'd also thought... Well, he'd at least expected an answer. But then Harry and his friend were there and she was fussing over them and he was left to fend for himself.
"You haff a water-beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny." He pulled the insect from her hair and she brushed it, and his hand, away.
She assured him the article was complete nonsense and that she had no idea how Skeeter knew what he had said to her, what he had asked her. But now everytime he saw her near Harry he felt lost...
The feast had been Hell. Absolute Hell. What a year this had been.
He walked up to Herm-own-ninny and her friends as they were waiting for the carriages to come and take them to the station.
Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back? D'you reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff?" It was the redhead again. Ron.
"Karkaroff did not steer. He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork." He turned to Hermione.
"Could I have a vord?"
"Oh... yes... all right." She followed him through the crowd.
Again there was no straight answer. She wasn't sure what her parents had planned or whether or not they'd approve of her going halfway across the world to visit a boy they'd never met. But there were many promises to write. And she would let him know as soon as she knew. And she would miss him very much, too.
They returned to Harry and Ron.
"I liked Diggory. He vos always polite to me. Alvays. Even though I vos from Durmstrang - with Karkaroff."
Then Ron asked for his autograph. He was very flattered. He had always thought Ron didn't like him.
Her parents didn't approve of their fourteen year old daughter going to Bulgaria to spend the summer with her eighteen year old Quidditch star boyfriend, so she couldn't come. She did write him very often, and he always returned her letters quickly. In the end, though, they became less and less frequent, though they still hadn't stopped altogether, even after two years, and he supposed that was something. He did miss her very much, though. Still. She was, after all, what he'd sorely miss. And he'd never felt the same way about anyone else. Two years later, those statements held true, though he supposed ultimately the feelings would fade for him as they had for her.
"I love you, Hermione."
"Don't let Lavender hear you saying that."
