The Prophecy

CHAPTER NINE

Hermione stirred and opened her eyes. It was dark in the room now, though a small reading lamp on the table gave off a little bit of light. Viktor was still propped up against the headboard, and she was still nestled in his arms. She wondered how long they had been in this state.

Viktor was sleeping soundly. She looked up at him, marveling at how the harsh angles of his face softened in slumber. In the dim light, she could see the dark shadows circling his eyes, evidence of his many hours of lost sleep. While it was odd to see him in such a vulnerable state, he looked so calm, and his lips were curved into a small smile. Hermione wondered what he was dreaming about, or if he was dreaming at all. She tried not to move, not wanting to shatter this moment of fragile peace. She smiled to herself and allowed her head to rest gently on his chest once more.

She wondered for a moment how she, a fifteen-year-old girl, could feel the way she did. She wondered if her mother had ever felt this way about her father, or any other man before him. She didn't think that she was like most of her peers, giggling and ogling at boys. She knew she was a bit more mature than other girls her age. But when it came to these new feelings, she felt so naïve.

How she wished she could ask her mother about this, and all other questions she had! With a pang, she realized that she might never be able to do that again. But there was so much she still needed to learn! Not only from her mother, but from her father, as well. So many things unaccomplished, conversations left unsaid. So many journeys not yet undertaken. Someone had taken that away from her, possibly forever. Her eyes filled with tears again, and they rolled silently down her cheeks and onto Viktor's chest. She couldn't stop herself. She clenched her hands in the fabric of his tunic. With nothing else left to her, she hoped that his warmth and security could give her the courage and hope she needed to endure this night. She didn't realize that he was awake until he spoke, startling her.

"Hermione, I thought you promised that you vould not cry anymore," he said softly, gently brushing the tears from her cheeks. Avoiding his eyes, she stared out the window instead. Rain was still pounding mercilessly against the panes. The storm raged on, showing no signs of abating. More bad news? Or was it simply Mother Nature unleashing her wrath upon the world?

"Maybe ve should get something to eat," he suggested quietly. "Are you hungry?"

"I ate dinner with Ada...a few hours ago, I think. What time is it? How long have we been sleeping?"

Viktor looked at his watch. "About three hours. It's almost eleven."

"Oh no! What will your great grandmother think?" Hermione jumped up quickly and frantically straightened out her wrinkled top and jeans.

"She is already sleeping by now. Ve shall go down to the kitchen and I vill make you something to eat. Or vould you prefer your meal in bed, princess?" Viktor teased.

"I am more then capable of walking to the kitchen, Mr. Krum. And last I checked, you were not a house elf," she shot back, laughing.

He grinned. "That is the voman that I know!" he exclaimed happily. "That is vot I vonted to see: that beautiful smile, not tears." Viktor grabbed Hermione's hand and led her down the stairs to the kitchen.

Ada had indeed already retired to her room; the kitchen was quiet and empty. The fire was roaring, and there was a plate and a teapot sitting on the table, a note tucked beneath the former. Viktor read it out loud.

My children, I thought you would get hungry after your nap, so please enjoy some scones and tea.

Love,
Ada

Hermione smiled and grabbed one of the baked goods and took a bite.

"These are wonderful! You have to have one!" she said, her mouth full.

Viktor retrieved two cups and poured some tea for them, then gladly took one of his favourite treats. His great grandmother had baked them for him since he was a small boy. He made a mental note to thank her in the morning.

Eyeing the plate, which was heaped with more pastries than the two of them could possibly eat, he asked, "Do you vont to finish these here, or take a plate to your room?" he asked.

"If you don't mind, I would like to go back to the room," she responded.

Viktor was more than a little disappointed. He had wanted to spend more time with her, but he would respect her wishes. After all, he had promised himself - and her - that he wouldn't rush things. She had asked him to be patient with her, and that was what he was going to do.

"Let me help you vith the tea, then," he replied.

He waited for her grab a smaller plate and place two scones on it, then walked slowly behind her as she made her way up to her room. Once inside, he placed the teacup on the small table and spun on his heels, fully intending to leave. Hermione reached out and grabbed his wrist, spinning him back around to face her.

"Viktor, if I didn't know any better, I would say that you were upset with me. You don't hide disappointment very well. Did I say something wrong?" she asked.

"I don't vont to make you uncomfortable. I am being quite selfish right now, Hermione. Forgive me. I do not vish to behave this vay in front of you, but I cannot help vot I feel. How you say...you can "read me like an open book?" Is that the saying?" He looked at her questioningly.

She suppressed a giggle. It was endearing when he experimented with English phrases.

"Yes, I read you like an open book, but this was probably the first time that you've made it so easy. Viktor, it's not like I don't want to spend time with you. I do, believe me. I just don't want your family to get the wrong idea. You know, you being in my room at this hour?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Ah, so you worry about your reputation, then. There is no need. My family knows that I am a gentleman, not some...how you say...'horny teenage boy,'" he concluded with a blush.

Hermione's face now matched Viktor's in redness. She didn't think of him that way, but she did care what his family thought of her. She knew that it would be best for him to leave soon.

"Viktor, it's late, and I'm sure you are tired too. We have a long day tomorrow, don't we?" she asked hesitantly. She was uncertain whether she would be allowed to go with him and his father to the Bulgarian Ministry. To her relief, he nodded.

"Yes, you are right. Tomorrow ve go with my father to see the Bulgarian Minister of Magic," Viktor replied. "I must say good night then, Hermione. I hope that you haff pleasant dreams." Viktor clicked his heals together and bowed low.

"Good night, then," she replied distantly, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice. He looked at her critically, his brow furrowed.

"Is it now I that haff done something wrong?" he asked. Viktor shuffled his feet and wondered how this moment had become so awkward. He had been a gentleman, had not abused her virtue. He had even successfully fought the urge to kiss her goodnight.

She seemed to be reading his mind.

"I was hoping that you would do a little more than bow..." she said in a whisper, not taking her eyes off of the floor. As such, she did not see Viktor's face light up and his lips curl into a wide smile.

"As you vish."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. Their lips touched lightly at first. It escalated quickly into a far more passionate kiss, followed by another, and then another, in rapid succession. Hermione's hands were now twined around Viktor's neck, and he was stroking her hair. Her mouth parted and she felt his tongue touch hers tentatively. She returned the gentle pressure, and she felt as much as heard the deep, encouraging rumble in his throat. Tingles ran down her spine and her stomach was full of molten heat. She pulled her body closer to his, wanting to explore this new sensation.

Viktor pulled away suddenly, a stricken expression on his face. She could not prevent the mewl of disappointment that escaped her.

"Hermione, ve cannot," he murmured, his breathing labored. "I cannot. If ve continue, I do not know if I vill be able to stop. You must understand..."

She turned away from him, not wanting to see the disappointed look on his face. She sat on the edge of the bed, feeling guilty. How could she have done this to him yet again? Why was it that every single time they were alone together, she managed to say or do something that made things uncomfortable between them?

"Viktor, I didn't mean to lead you on. I just couldn't help myself..." She broke off, not knowing how else she could explain what she was feeling. She didn't know what had come over her. All she knew was that it had felt so good, so right. Yet she also knew that she couldn't have let it go on. Viktor looked at her one last time.

"And that is vy I cannot stay. Good night, Hermione. I vill vake you in the morning." And with that he left the room, closing the heavy wooden door behind him and leaving Hermione more than a little distraught.

Hermione sat for several minutes, hoping that maybe he would come back so that she could apologize for her actions. It took several long minutes for her to come to the conclusion that he was not returning. She picked her nightgown off of the chair and got ready for bed.

'Pleasant dreams,' indeed.

***

Morning came far too soon. Viktor knocked on her door promptly at seven, stepping inside at her affirmative reply. She was already dressed and sitting on her bed, brushing her hair and trying it unsuccessfully to make it look half-decent. She looked up at him.

"Good morning, Viktor. Did you sleep well?"

"As vell as I could," he responded. So that was how things were going to be, she thought. Her stomach still ached with guilt about last night. She shouldn't have been so forward. Had she shown a little more restraint, it wouldn't be so awkward between them now.

"I wasn't sure what to wear to see the minister, so I put on something less casual. I hope that's alright," she said, standing up and smoothing her skirt and top self-consciously.

Viktor looked on approvingly. "Hermione, you can vear votever you vish. You look beautiful in anything."

She blushed and finished fighting with her hair, finally settling on a low ponytail.

"If you are ready, ve vill go downstairs. My great grandmother has already prepared breakfast for us," Viktor said. Hermione grabbed her wand and her outer robes and followed him down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Good morning, my dears." Ada smiled at them brightly. "Sit and eat before it gets cold." She gestured to the table, where eggs, toast, homemade jams and butter, and a pot of coffee rested. Hermione sat down and served a little of everything onto a plate, then offered it to Viktor. He took it graciously, and she grabbed some things for herself.

"Is your father meeting us here?" Hermione asked as she forked some eggs into her mouth.

"No, ve vill meet him in front of the Ministry in Sofia," Viktor replied.

"Oh. How are we getting there?"

"Ve vill take the muggle transit." At her questioning look, he explained, "In the nearby town there is a small train station that vill take us to the capital."

"How far away is it? The capital, I mean?"

"Three hours, giff or take. It vould be faster to fly or apparate, but since you cannot apparate, and flying vould be too dangerous, ve haff to rely on the muggle transportation instead," Viktor sighed disappointedly.

"Well, you've got to make the best of it. We take the train to school every year, and it's few hours, too. We'll have lots of time to talk or read. Actually, I found an interesting book upstairs...I mean, it looks interesting, but it's in Bulgarian. I was hoping you could help translate for me," she said shyly. He visibly brightened at the suggestion.

"I would loff to," he replied.

Hermione beamed. Hopefully, their long train ride would allow her the chance to properly apologize for her behavior.

After breakfast, she ran upstairs to get the book, then waited for Viktor in the lobby. They said their goodbyes to Ada and headed outside. Hermione wondered how they were getting to the next town.

"It is a bit of a valk, but I know a shortcut." He smiled at her mischievously.

"As long as I don't have to tumble down a hill, I'm fine with short cuts," she laughed.

They were walking through the forest briskly, Viktor holding Hermione's hand as she walked a step behind him. It was a scenic route; Hermione would have enjoyed it more if they had taken in at a stroll and not a jog. After about fifteen minutes they came to a clearing and a paved road that led into a small town. Hermione could read the sign that said "Rusa" by the road, indicating the town's name. There were a few houses, and several small shops here and there. Some older couples were sitting on their front porches, looking at them curiously. One older man waved to Viktor and he waved back, flashing him a small smile.

"Do you know him?" Hermione asked.

"No, but he knows me," he replied.

"Are there wizards in this town, or just muggles?"

"A few vizards live here. Like that man that just vaved, he recognized me. I do not know many muggles around here, anyvays."

They walked for few more minutes until the train station came to view. It was an older building, nothing compared to the train stations that Hermione had seen in England. It was poorly maintained; the walls were scraped and covered in layers of graffiti, but Hermione found it interesting. She thought that it had history and character. They entered the station and Viktor left her briefly in order to purchase the tickets. There were few people sitting around waiting for a train. He came back and they went to sit on the platform.

"Our train is coming in five minutes. Ve made it just in time," Viktor explained.

They waited, and soon enough the train arrived. They managed to find an empty cabin at the back of the train, hoping that no one would sit with them so they could enjoy their privacy. Hermione sat by the window and Viktor sat opposite her.

"So vot vould you like to do? Translate the book or just talk for a vile?" Viktor asked.

"How about we just talk for a while?" Hermione had lots of questions, about his childhood, about Quidditch...about past relationships. She wanted to get to know him. Sometimes, she had an eerie feeling that her time with him was very limited, and that she should learn as much as she could while she still had the opportunity. But first...

"Viktor, I want to apologize," she began, staring at her hands. Her stomach was twisted in knots. "For last night. I didn't mean for things to go as far as they did, and I'm sorry for making you feel so awkward, and..."

"Stop." Her head shot up in surprise. He was staring at a spot over her right shoulder, obviously struggling with what he wanted to say. "Hermione, I should be the von saying sorry to you. You haff done nothing wrong. You ver far more clear in vot you vonted than I vos. I did not respect your vishes, and then I left you feeling guilty for something that you did not do, because I vos too afraid to tell you that I vos wrong." He looked at her, his expression remorseful. "Vill you forgive me?"

She had not expected this turn of events, but any opportunity to clear up the uncomfortable situation that they had found themselves in was a welcome one. She smiled at him warmly. "Of course I forgive you, Viktor, if you can forgive me as well." He looked ready to interject, but she held up a hand to stop him. "I know what you're going to say, and you can stop the thought right there. We were both wrong, and we'll leave it at that." He nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. They say in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the shifting scenery through the train's large window.

"So can you tell me what it feels like to be a celebrity?" she asked, breaking the silence. She figured she should ask a safe question first, one that he was probably used to answering.

He considered the question carefully. "I do not consider myself a celebrity. Others make me so. It is crazy sometimes." He remembered the fangirls at Hogwarts following him everywhere. "I do not mind the true Quidditch fans, the vons that come to the games, know the stats, and enjoy it because it is a sport and I am a player. I do not, however, enjoy the screaming, giggling girls that think they can say or do anything, and I that am supposed to accept it because I am famous." He scowled.

Hermione understood. She had been annoyed at school when the girls had followed his every move like a pack of lust-crazed animals. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be harassed like that every day of your life.

"I do not encourage them to do or say or giff me anything. I ignore them, because nothing else vorks. You haff read many books, Hermione; is there a repellant spell that vill make them go avay?" he asked laughingly, and perhaps a little hopefully.

Hermione had already considered the possibility. Many times, she had just wanted to curse them, especially the one with the Bulgarian flag tied around her waist. But she hadn't wanted to let Viktor know she cared that much back then.

"I wish. I had few spells and curses up my sleeve back in the library, but I resisted," she replied. "I didn't want to be thrown out for the rest of the year."

He snorted. "Vell, at least in the library I did not haff to do any interviews. Another thing about being a celebrity is dealing vith nosy reporters. You got a taste of that at Hogvarts, so you know vot I mean. Here in Bulgaria, they aren't any better than that Skeeter voman. Actually, they aren't much different in any country I am playing in, but they are the vorst in England, I am thinking."

"So what's the worst thing you've read about yourself that wasn't true?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know about the vorst, but I alvays get paired up with some famous young vitch declaring to the newspapers that ve are engaged to be married or some bizarre thing like that." Hermione looked at him curiously. Should she laugh at that, or feel sorry for him? She hadn't paid much attention while reading the Daily Prophet or the Young Witch Weekly to articles involving Viktor. Harry and Ron mentioned him few times before going to the World Cup, but nothing regarding his love life. She was a bit curious, and being on the topic, she didn't think he would mind if she asked.

"Have any of them been at all true? I mean, have you ever...been with anyone before?" She knew that her cheeks were bright red now, and she stared resolutely out the window rather than meeting his amused glance.

"To be honest, I really did not haff time for girlfriends. I meet many girls, but all of them are the same. All of them care about my celebrity status and who I know, but not who I am. But there really vos not anyone that I vos interested in until I last vent to England. Then I met a girl with vild hair, beautiful smile, and an amazing mind who vould not give me the time of the day," he said with a smirk.

Hermione smiled. "That's not true! I would've talked to you eventually, I just didn't like all the distractions in the library," she replied.

The rest of the train ride was spent talking about books, school, and their families. Hermione was enjoying herself so much that she almost forgot why she was there in the first place. The train came to a grinding stop, and they left the cabin quickly. Hermione followed Viktor onto the platform and had to stop for a moment to look around at one of the most magnificent structures that she had ever seen.

Sofia's train station was very different than both Rusa and London, or any other station that Hermione had ever been to. Enormous stone arches made out of a beautiful sand-colored stone were spaced evenly around the platform, each gracefully curving and meeting at the tops of enormous marble columns. The ceiling was the most interesting feature; it was made entirely out of stained glass. The four seasons were depicted in beautiful garden motifs, the varying shades associated with each one blending seamlessly together. The sun's rays illuminated the glass, making it look vibrant and almost unreal. Hermione wondered if it wasn't enchanted. Either way, she was in awe.

"Viktor, the ceiling is just breathtaking! I don't think I've ever seen anything like it!"

They walked with the crowd up the stairs and into the city. Her amazement did not stop at the train station. Sofia was beautiful. There were tall, modern buildings standing right next to the older, more historic architecture. The blending of new and old made it that much more appealing to Hermione.

"How far is it to the Ministry?" Hermione asked, looking around at the faces that passed them by. She was wondering if she could recognize a wizard or a witch among the muggles. She figured that with Viktor being who he was, it would be easy to spot one. Most that recognized him either asked for an autograph right away or stopped and stared.

"Just a few blocks. Ve vill be there shortly," he replied.

Viktor wanted to show Hermione his capital city. There was so much to explore here! He knew she would love to go to the museums. He also wanted show her his favourite fountain, and take her to the small cafe in the square that served the best white chocolate cookies he had ever tasted. Sadly, this visit was meant to take care of more important matters. Having been there more times than he cared to think about, he could say with authority that he didn't like going to the Ministry at all. It was very similar to what Hermione described the British ministry as being like: the same ignorance on the faces of the witches and wizards that worked there, and only a handful of good, honest ones that strived for truth and justice. Fortunately, the Minister was one of them.

"Good morning, Viktor. Hermione, nice to see you again." Viktor's father seemed to appear in front of them out of nowhere. He reached for Hermione's hand and kissed it, just like he had the first time they had met. Hermione blushed again; she still wasn't used to his more traditional form of chivalry. Mr. Krum hugged his son warmly.

"Hello, Mr. Krum. It's nice to see you, as well," she replied.

"Hello, father. Are our passes arranged yet?" Viktor asked.

"Yes, Viktor. Haff you explained to Hermione how ve enter the Ministry?" Viktor's father asked.

"No, not yet. Hermione, ven ve reach the building, it's a bit difficult to get into the Ministry itself. There is a small store in front, and a man sits in front of it. He has the pass, but you must tell him the correct answer to his question to receive it. The questions vill be different for all of us. My father vill go first, then you, and then I vill follow." Viktor finished.

"What kind of a question? How will I know what to answer?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"You vill know the answer. I'm sorry I can't tell you more. It's one of those riddles that vill pertain only to you," Viktor replied.

Hermione settled for that. She figured it couldn't be that difficult. She enjoyed riddles and puzzles.

Moments later, they reached the storefront. An ancient old man sat in front of it, looking surly. Hermione figured that this must be the man whose riddle she must answer. She hoped that it had nothing to do with spells; she hadn't looked at her schoolbooks in over a week now.

She watched Viktor's father approach the old man. He spoke to him in Bulgarian, his voice low. Hermione couldn't have heard much even if she had wanted to. The old man nodded and gave something to Mr. Krum, who took it and went inside the store. Viktor looked at Hermione.

"It vill be all right. Go ahead," he assured her.

"Will he speak to me in English? I don't know a word of Bulgarian."

"Do not worry. He vill speak in a language that you vill understand," Viktor replied.

Hermione hesitated, but knew that there was no other option. She walked up to the man, who was now looking at her and smiling.

You must answer this question, honest and true
If you want to seek help from those who want to help you
What is the one thing that you would dearly miss
If it were taken away to the deepest abyss
Not an object, nor creature, but something much desired
A being, a feeling, but thought it does not require
Think not with your head, but only with your heart
Think not of the ones that are now apart
It is not what you seek, but something that is close
Whether it is far away, or right under your nose
Look deep inside, and once again I say
That there you find it, and you'll be on your way

Hermione carefully considered the riddle. The obvious answer, the one at the tip of her tongue, was her parents. But the man had said that it wouldn't be what she was seeking, so it certainly couldn't be them. Of those that were close, she could think of Harry and the Weasleys, for sure. But right under her nose, that would be...

Viktor.

She was sure of it. The feeling was love, her love for Viktor. Could it be that what she would miss the most would be Viktor's love itself?

No, that wasn't right, either. While the loss of Viktor's love would be devastating, she was not sure that she could live without his smile, his warmth, or his quiet intensity. She though of his eyes; how they sparkled when he laughed, and darkened with desire as he held her in his arms and kissed her until she was breathless. She recalled his hands, calloused from years of playing Quidditch, gently wiping away her tears. She would miss all of that, and much more. She couldn't imagine her life without him now. They had only just begun their journey, but in that moment of absolute clarity, she realized that their lives were inexorably linked. Whatever her future held, it would not be complete without him there to share it with her. She was certain of her answer now.

"Viktor Krum," she said quietly.

The man looked at her for a few seconds, his expression indecipherable. He finally smiled and handed her a piece of paper with some writing on it that she didn't recognize and pointed to the door of the small store. Hermione silently walked inside. It was dark and dingy, and made her think of Knockturn Alley. There was a woman sitting behind the counter who was looking at Hermione curiously. She looked like a witch, but did not say anything in introduction. The lady reached for the piece of paper and pointed to the door in the back.

"Go through that door. Mr. Krum will be waiting there for you, Ms. Granger." She spoke with the same accent as Viktor's mother and grandmother, she noticed.

Hermione nodded her head and headed for the door. Hesitantly she placed her hand on the heavy brass handle, then pushed the door forward. Just as the witch had said, Mr. Krum was standing in the middle of what seemed like a hotel lobby. Hermione guessed this was the front entrance of the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic. Mr. Krum smiled at her.

"I guess the riddle vos not as difficult as you feared," he laughed.

"No, it was quite easy," she replied with a smile.

"I knew that you vould get it. You are the smartest vitch that I haff ever met of your age," Mr. Krum admitted.

Hermione blushed, and distantly wondered what was taking Viktor so long.

Mr. Krum spoke again. "Hermione, I just vonted to say that I think you are quite a remarkable young woman. Ven Viktor vos telling us about you, ve could not vait to meet you, and you haff far exceeded our expectations. I haff never heard my son speak about anyone the way he does about you. Katarina and I are most pleased that you haff allowed our son into your life, and ve know that ve could not haff picked anyone better for him. I know you are young, but if it helps you at all, my vife vos your age ven I met her, and I vos as old as Viktor. Ve ver married ven she turned 18. So age really means nothing when you are in loff."

It was wonderful of Mr. Krum to say that to her, and it made her feel that much more welcome in their family. She couldn't help but smile back at him.

"I should be thanking you, not the other way around. Your son is..."

"I am vot, exactly?" Viktor inquired as he burst through the door.

"What took you so long?" Hermione questioned.

"The riddle vos so confusing, I almost did not get in. It vos so simple, too. It was the score from a Quidditch game several months ago. I should know all of them, apparently," he said, and they all laughed.

"Vot vos yours, Hermione?" he asked. "It must haff been easy, since you ver able to answer so fast."

"It was easy, but that's because the answer was right in front of me," she said. He quirked an eyebrow at her. She smiled. "I'll tell you later," she promised.

"Let's go, then. The Minister is vaiting for us in his office." Mr. Krum led them to the elevator. The Bulgarian Ministry didn't look much different from its British counterpart, as far as Hermione could tell. It looked similar to a muggle office building except for the owls, flying parchment, and various magical creatures walking about.

They went to the fourth floor and walked towards the Minister's office. Mr. Krum knocked on the door.

A deep, heavily accented voice spoke from the inside. "Come in."

"Good afternoon, Boris. How are you?" Mr. Krum spoke warmly. Hermione wondered why they were both speaking English, then realized that they were doing it for her benefit. She was grateful, and she resolved to begin studying the Bulgarian language as soon as possible.

"Ah, Pavel. I was expecting you much sooner. Did you haff trouble at the front desk?" the Minister asked.

"No, I had to vait for my son and Ms. Granger to arrive from the train station. Ms. Granger cannot apparate yet." Hermione felt the Minister's eyes on her. It was a drawback for her and an inconvenience for them that she couldn't apparate, but it was the ministry that set the age limit in the first place, Hermione thought.

"Sit down, please. Vould you care for some tea? I vos just getting some for myself," the minister offered.

"None for me, thank you. Viktor? Hermione?" Mr. Krum asked.

"No thank you, Minister," Hermione replied. Viktor shook his head. They were here on business, not to socialize and have tea.

"Vell, let's get to the point then, shall ve?" the minister said.

"You know vot happened to Ms. Granger's parents, I presume?" Mr. Krum asked.

"Yes, Dumbledore has sent me an owl explaining it all. News like that travels quite fast, unfortunately, even though they are muggles," he replied.

Hermione felt like that was an insult in some way. But seeing as he was the Minister of Magic, she couldn't really tell him off. He apparently had some important information about her parents, so she didn't want to ruin her chance by being confrontational.

"Vot can you tell us, Boris? Haff you found anything else?" Mr. Krum questioned.

"Not much, but it could mean something. Von of my aurors in Romania said that he heard someone in a bar talking about two muggles abducted by Death Eaters. He tried to listen to more of the conversation, but all he got vos that they ver in southern Romania near the Bulgarian border. He also heard them say that this is just the beginning, that there vill be more abductions to follow. Many more important people vill be taken, ones that Voldemort needs for his var." The Minister paused and stared at Viktor and Hermione.

"Is there anything else? Any names? Anything?" Hermione interjected, unable to stop herself. Viktor's father gave her a suppressing look, which she ignored.

"No, Ms. Granger. That is vot ve are trying to find out," the Minister replied coldly.

"Is that auror still in Romania? Has he identified the wizards he overheard in the bar? Are they Voldemort's followers?" Viktor asked.

"Yes, the auror is still there. I sent several more just in case he needs assistance. Only my best are working on this. I wouldn't do this for just anybody, old friend," the minister said.

"I know Boris, and we are very grateful for that," Mr. Krum replied.

"To answer your question Viktor, if they ver Voldemort's followers, vhich ve are not sure of yet, it would seem very stupid to just blurt things like that out in a bar full of strangers, don't you think?"

"It depends. I knew a few of his followers that ver not as bright as they appeared to be." Viktor smirked and thought of his former headmaster. Cunning, perhaps, but not bright.

"Vell, I am not sure if that helped you at all. Ms. Granger, I am sorry that you must go through this, but you are in good hands. In good hands, indeed." He smiled at her nodded approvingly at her and Viktor's clasped hands.

"Thank you for your time, Boris. Keep in touch of you receive any more news, please."

"Of course, Pavel. I vill send you an owl if I hear anything from my aurors. In the mean time, please try not to vorry. I know that this is difficult for you, Ms. Granger. I lost my parents to the Death Eaters, so please believe me ven I say that I understand vot you are enduring. I vill do all I can to assist in bringing them back unharmed." The Minister gave a Hermione a sympathetic look, tinged with remembered pain.

"Thank you again, Minister," Hermione replied quietly. She was stunned by what the Minister had just said. He had lost his parents. They had been killed by the Death Eaters. Hermione couldn't help the thoughts that were now entering her mind, even as she struggled valiantly to push them away. How awful of her to lose hope so quickly! She needed to think positively. It had only been a few days.

They all said their goodbyes. Mr. Krum spoke in Bulgarian to the Minister for a moment, then they left the ministry through the same small storefront. The old man was still sitting in front of the window display looking at them curiously.

"Hope you got what you came for," he said to them.

Hermione looked at him with a blank expression. What did he know about what they came for? She didn't want to be rude, but she didn't want to say anything to him, either. And why was he speaking in English? They continued to walk down the street quietly, Viktor by her side, holding her hand tightly. Mr. Krum finally spoke.

"I need to take care of some things in the city, if you vill excuse me. Hermione, do not let this matter ruin your first visit to Sofia. I hope Viktor will at least show you his favourite spot." Mr. Krum winked at his son.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Krum, and for your kind words. I hope to see you soon. Please send my best to Mrs. Krum for me," Hermione replied politely.

Mr. Krum took Hermione's hand and kissed it again. He hugged his son affectionately and then disappeared into the crowd.

"So, ve have a few hours before the last train leaves for Rusa. Do you vont me to show you a bit of Sofia?" Viktor asked, barely concealed excitement in his voice.

Honestly, what Hermione really wanted was to go back to Sokrovishte, lie in bed, and wait for some hopeful news from Professor Dumbledore; or anybody, for that matter. She knew that Viktor was eager to show her around, though, to keep her mind off of her parents.

"Sure," she replied blandly.

"Are you alright, Hermione? Ve do not need to go anyvhere if you do not vish to. There vill be other times that I can show you Sofia." Viktor sensed her sadness, but did not know how best to alleviate it.

"I'm that transparent, aren't I? I'm sorry Viktor, I just...I can't stop thinking about what the Minister said. About his parents being killed by the Death Eaters. And I can't stop wondering if..." She couldn't bring herself to say it, even though the thought would not leave her mind.

He grasped her hands in his. "Hermione, you cannot let yourself think that. There is alvays hope! All those who are helping to find your parents believe von and von thing only: that they are alive and they vill be found. You need to believe that, too. Vot do you haff if you haff no hope?" Viktor said.

Hermione knew that he was right. How could she allow herself to think such horrible thoughts? Her parents would want her to have hope, to believe that they were all right and that she would see them soon. She nodded, finding a small smile for him.

"Come. Let me show you my favourite place in the city. It's only a few blocks avay. Then ve can get something to eat and go back home," Viktor said. Hermione nodded in agreement, and they walked hand-in-hand towards the center of Sofia.

***

Somewhere in the Carpathian Mountains near Craiova town, Jane and Robert Granger were laying on the cold floor of an old house. Their hand and feet bound, they leaned on each other for support and comfort. They spoke in hushed whispers of their only daughter, hoping that she was somewhere safe.

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