The Prophecy

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The meeting finally wound down, with plans being made for the following day.

It was decided that Viktor would go with Mad-Eye, after all. After the meeting, Aden had been called back to the Ministry on some important matter, and as much as he wanted to go with Alastor, he knew that he had to fulfill his obligations to the Ministry first. He promised to return as soon as possible, desperately trying to prevent Viktor from going in his stead. They were all aware of the dangers, but Viktor had insisted that he would like to be more involved in the search. He knew that he needed to do this for Hermione. He was convinced that this was the village, and that they would find more information there; he just felt it.

Hermione was none too pleased. She was worried for his safety, as they all were. But she also knew that he was quite the stubborn Bulgarian, and that there would be no talking him out of it. She was confident in Mad-Eye's skills, for even though he was not in service anymore, he was still a very powerful wizard. That, and his paranoia would prevent him from taking any unnecessary risks. Viktor could defend himself easily, as well.

Viktor was anxious and jumpy for the rest of the evening. As the house's occupants retired for the night, Hermione and Viktor stayed behind in the living room, curling up together by the roaring fireplace. It had been a long day for both of them. The meeting, chasing Karkaroff's grandmother throughout the house, discovering the possible location of Hermione's parents...it was no wonder that they were both exhausted.

Viktor pulled Hermione closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around her as he spoke shyly into her hair.

"Hermione, I hope that you don't think I am being foolish. I just haff this, how you say...hunch about this place. I need to go vith Alastor."

Hermione closed her eyes and burrowed her head into the crook of his neck. Her warm breath tickled his ear as she whispered, "I know, Viktor. I'm just...afraid. Afraid that I will lose you, too. I don't think that I could handle that. You mean too much to me..."

Viktor felt a lump rise in his throat. He last thing that he wanted to do was cause her more pain. He simply wanted for this to be over with, so that they could get on with their lives. He wanted to tell her all the things that she wanted to hear, but the words stuck in his throat, and all he could do was hold her.

Hermione sensed his discomfort, and was unsure if she should continue talking or just savor the moment, their only quiet moment after this long and strenuous day. She turned and looked into those deep brown eyes that she loved so much. They were dark with worry. She leaned in closer and pressed her lips against his as softly as she could, trying to convey with that soft pressure her prayers, her thanks, and her fears. As she pulled away, she saw his eyes sparkle suspiciously.

They sat together quietly, both wanting to preserve this moment of calm. It was rare that they had any time to themselves, and they were taking advantage of the short period of time they had been offered. Hermione wondered briefly if it had been prearranged, because who went to bed at eight in the evening? She smiled, and resolved to thank Molly in the morning.

Sleep finally stole upon them. Before going to bed, made sure to give Viktor one final admonition, just in case she didn't see him the next morning.

"I'll be thinking of you. Please be careful."

Obicham te was the last thought that they each left with.
***

The next day was almost as bad as the one before. Another full house, wizards apparating in and out of the hallway, all the Weasleys running around. Amidst the chaos, Dumbledore arrived with Mad-Eye Moody. They called Viktor into the living room. Hermione stayed behind in the kitchen with the rest, dreading his inevitable departure.

Dumbledore paced the length of the fireplace, but otherwise showed no outward signs of unease. "Viktor, you know that I am not entirely comfortable with the idea of you going with Alastor. I would have accompanied him myself if I could have, though I couldn't have thought of a more suitable substitute. On that note, please be careful; stay with Alastor at all times, and do not wander anywhere by yourself." Dumbledore patted Viktor's shoulder in a fatherly way, then turned to Moody.

"Alastor, I don't need to give you a lecture. You know exactly what to do. Get your wine, look around, and come back as soon as possible. If we need to make more than one trip, so be it. Do not put yourself or Viktor in danger, and if there is any doubt, apparate immediately back here"

"Don't worry, Albus. Constant vigilance! And Viktor will be fine, he probably has more spells up his sleeve than most wizards his age!" Mad-Eye laughed. Viktor didn't know whether he should take that as a complement or an insult, knowing that he probably meant his schooling at Durmstrang, with its emphasis on the Dark Arts.

Dumbledore had to leave on another matter, but promised to be back in the afternoon. After a quick breakfast, it was time for Mad-Eye and Viktor to leave.

Hermione was helping Mrs. Weasley clean. She was scrubbing the dishes vigorously, but with a distracted air; she didn't seem to realize she was doing the same plate over and over again. Viktor stood in the entryway, observing her silently. She was obviously deep in thought.

Her musings were interrupted suddenly. Viktor's smiling face flashed before her eyes; the hairs on her arms stood up, and she felt a tugging sensation in her midsection. An indication of his presence, perhaps? She had never experienced that before. She turned around quickly and saw him smiling by the doorway. She looked at him, completely dumfounded. Viktor became worried when she didn't say anything. He practically leaped to her side.

"Hermione, are you all right?"

Hermione nodded her head. "I think so. This is going to sound odd...but I knew that you were standing in the doorway. I saw you smiling just as you were when I turned around." She had heard people say before that they sensed someone's presence, or had seen an event that had not yet occurred, but she had always been extremely skeptical of these claims. She was not at all superstitious. Until she had met Viktor, she had thought that the whole notion of premonitions and fortune telling was quite absurd. She still thought that most of it was.

Viktor remembered his great grandmother mention that he and Hermione would soon be able to strongly sense one another's presence. All of these things had happened so quickly that he was almost frightened as to what would come next. They were already beginning to read each other's minds, passing mental messages, and now she could sense his presence. The spells were supposed to come next.

Hermione watched the emotions play across his face, but noticed a distinct lack of surprise. "Viktor, you know something, don't you? What is it? Is it part of the..."

"Yes. My great grandmother mentioned it back at the house, saying that you vould soon know vhen I am near you," he replied.

"That could be a good thing," she said wistfully. It might help put her mind at ease, knowing where he was before she could physically see him.

Viktor hesitated, wanting to say more, but he knew that he had to lave. Mad-Eye was waiting for him in the hallway, chatting loudly with Mr. Weasley about some muggle artifact and its uses.

"Hermione..."

His voice was full of anguish. He reached for a small curl that was making its way across Hermione's tear-glazed eyes, to tuck it behind her ear.

"...I must go."

And with that he kissed her abruptly, almost desperately. He wanted to preserve the memory of her kiss for as long as he could. It wouldn't be difficult; he could recall so many precious memories that he had shared with her. He had learned how to save them for those long, lonely nights without her.

She returned the kiss, and hugged him tightly, tears falling down rosy cheeks. He wiped them away quietly. His heart was shattering to pieces; he absolutely hated the sight of her crying.

"I vill be back very soon, my love. Very soon, I promise." He wanted to stay longer, but if he didn't pull away now, he was afraid that he never would. He turned and walked out of the kitchen.

Hermione was left feeling numb. She didn't want him to go, but she knew that he had to. She stared at the doorway that he just left through, almost wishing that he would return. She felt a tug somewhere near her heart, a painful reminder that he was out of her reach, at least for now. She vowed to keep herself occupied until he returned. She went to look for the rest of the occupants of the house, who had once again conveniently disappeared, giving her the privacy that she had needed with Viktor.

***

Mad-Eye and Viktor apparated to the small mountainside village, appearing with a loud "POP" behind a rundown house. It was a foggy morning in Romania; only the bases of the mountains were visible. The peaks were hidden in clouds of mist. Viktor unconsciously fiddled with his wand. Slowly and silently, they walked to the nearest road, which led straight to the monastery. Alastor was whistling to himself and muttering something under his breath. Viktor nervously looked around, trying to familiarize himself with the surroundings.

There wasn't much to see; the fog obscured everything. It was an eerie feeling, to be walking on a deserted road with the infamous Mad-Eye Moody by his side. To a muggle, the image that they presented probably wouldn't be have been considered terribly strange: a tall, brooding young man and his grandfather out for an early walk, perhaps. But to magic folk, it would be a sight worthy of the newspapers. Moody was as famous for his eccentricities as he was for being the most famous Auror still living. And Viktor...most of the wizarding community knew his face well, especially in Europe. Their mission was to observe as much as they could and get back quickly, hopefully remaining unnoticed. That would probably present the greatest challenge.

The monastery slowly emerged in front their eyes. Viktor thought of Hermione, and how she would enjoy seeing this as well. The single-story gothic structure was almost completely covered in grapevines; only a few dark stone were visible beneath the leafy foliage. Stained glass windows depicting various Biblical scenes were set at various intervals along the outside walls. Adjacent to the living quarters was a small chapel, with a magnificent glass rosette right above the wooden entry. Though obviously poor, the monastery was well-maintained, as evidenced by the carefully tended gardens and perfectly cleared walkways. Viktor was brought out of his admiring reverie by Alastor's sharp knock on the gate.

A small peek-door opened and the round, pudgy face of a monk peered out at them.

He asked in Romanian, "Can I help you?"

"We have come to purchase your wine, Father," Mad-Eye answered. Viktor looked curiously at him, wondering how he had understood what the monk had said.

The monk immediately switched to English. "Is that Alastor Moody? I cannot belieff my eyes! It has been too long, my friend! Come in, come in!" The gate opened, and a small, chubby figure in a long cloak welcomed them. Alastor shook his hand warmly, then gestured to Viktor.

"Father, this is a friend of mine, Viktor. Viktor, this is Father Pavkin. He is the prior." Viktor politely nodded his head without saying a word.

The monk looked at him curiously, but smiled pleasantly and addressed Mad-Eye instead.

"So your stash is gone already? Oh, my dear Alastor, the retirement giffs you lots free time, no?" He chuckled and he rubbed his prominent belly, evidence that his promotion, which had released him from the daily toils of monastic life, was treating him well.

"Almost gone, Father. I was in the area visiting Viktor, and thought that we could stop by get some more," Mad-Eye answered in the most conversational tone that Viktor had ever heard him use.

"Of course, ve haff your special vino. Follow me to the cellars, Alastor," the monk replied, and hurried off towards a building on the other side of the chapel. The two wizards followed. Pavkin and Moody carried on a friendly conversation while Viktor trailed a few steps behind them.

"Anything interesting going on in this part of town?" Moody asked casually as he limped down the stairs and into the cool, damp cellar.

"Vell, this is a very qviet town most of the time, but too many unfriendly faces lately. Funny looking persons," the monk said, shaking his head and searching for the right wine for Alastor.

Viktor's ears perked up, but he didn't wish to appear too interested. Instead, he stayed quiet, letting Moody do the talking.

"What business would they have here? Have they come for the harvest season?" Moody asked. He knew that the town lived off trade, so that was a safe question.

"No, they not buy, they cause trouble only. There is something brewing here, just not know vhat or vhere exactly. I can smell it," the monk said, touching his nose. After another moment of rummaging, he pulled out a dusty green bottle. "Aha, 1942! A very good year! A case as usual, Alastor? Or two, since you haff help this time? Young man can carry lots," he said, smiling in Viktor's direction.

"I'll take two, Father. I'd do best to stock up while the weather is still good. Can't travel in the winter with this leg," he said, tapping on his left kneee. While the monk busied himself with collecting the bottles, Moody gently steered the conversation back on its desired course. "What kind of trouble have you been having? Just the local kids, or foreigners?"

"Foreigners, I belieff. Some folks in town say they are up to no good. They are in old house that novone has liff in for years. Trouble, I tell you, trouble." The monk shook his finger in the air disapprovingly.

Viktor couldn't think of anything else but running to that house and seeing if Hermione's parents were being kept there. He just had a gut feeling about it, too strong to be misinterpreted as something else. It seemed that Alastor had the same idea. His gaze flickered back and forth between the monk and Viktor. He was obviously trying to compose himself, not wanting to give away that the sole purpose of the visit had actually been information. The wine was just a treat.

"Oh, those foreigners. Not all of them are bad, you know. Perhaps they haven't heard about your wine yet," he reassured the monk as took the cases away from him. They left the cellar and, after paying for the wine and chatting for a bit, continued on their way. As soon as they left the monastery, the cases were shrunk to fit into their pockets. They made they way back down the road and into the town.

"Now Viktor, I know exactly what you are thinking. I have the same hunch, but we could still be wrong. I don't want to blow this operation, so we can't get too close. We're too easy to recognize. If it is the house I'm thinking of, there's a hill and some trees that we can hide behind. Hopefully, we'll be able to see something that will confirm that this is the location."

Moody spoke rapidly, and Viktor was trying to focus on his words, but his mind was already racing. What if Hermione's parents were being tortured right now? He could not live with himself, knowing that he had been so close, and had not done anything to save them. But he was also not stupid enough to barge into a house full of Death Eaters, and especially not into a place where Voldemort himself had been known to reside. He needed to focus and listen to Moody. He had, after all, had more than his fair share of dealings with the worst kind of wizards.

They made their way quickly to the abandoned house. Moody knew exactly where it was, though it wouldn't have been difficult to find regardless. The town probably had less then twenty houses scattered throughout it, and this one stood out like a sore thumb. Dark and dilapidated, it made the hairs on Viktor's arms stand on end. For just an instant, he could have sworn that he heard the echoes of screams as they approached it. There was dark magic at work here, he could sense it.

Just as Moody had said, there was a hill adjacent to the side of the house, with enough trees for cover. In the bright daylight, they couldn't simply walk up there. Instead, they apparated from a safe distance, hoping that the loud noise would be dismissed as a dead tree falling in the nearby forest.

The house seemed to be deserted. There were no windows open, and the curtains were drawn. Moody's magical eye swerved sickeningly in its socket, then came to rest on one of the darkened windows. He retrieved an object from one of his many pockets, which Viktor supposed was a magical observation device. Moody stared into its glassy surface for a moment, then turned to face Viktor with a look of wild excitement on his face. Viktor practically shouted at him.

"Vot is it, Alastor? Do you see anyvone?"

"I think we have our location! I saw quite a few familiar faces in there. We need to get back to headquarters immediately. We are in grave danger here," Moody said hastily.

Viktor wanted to stay, to observe more, maybe even do something, but he knew that it would be irrational and stupid. If they made a mistake, they could be captured, and that would jeopardize not only this particular mission, but many that were sure to come in the future. He would never forgive himself for that. He knew Moody was right. They needed to get back and plan their next move with the rest of the Order.