Secrets Withheld

As she waited, a man turned her around hugged her, then kissed her lightly on the lips. It was Viktor. Her Viktor.

“Hi, Viktor.” She wrapped her arms around Viktor and smiled up at him. Even though they hadn’t none each other very long, they truly adored each other.

“Hello, Hermione.” Viktor, with his arms around her, lifted her up and swung her back and forth. “I’ve missed you so.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Hermione said. She turned to see that Viktor’s parents were standing nearby. Viktor’s father was looking through the luggage at the name tags and then grabbed a suitcase which belonged to Hermione.

“Hello, Hermione,” Viktor’s mother said, smiling. “Ve’ve heard so much about you. I feel as though I already know you.”

“Was it good?” Hermione asked.

“Very good,” Mr. Krum said. “Too good. Ve vere beginning to think our son had fallen for a goddess or something.”

Listening to Viktor and then his parents, Hermione had discovered that a year in London had made his accent less severe to a point that she hardly noticed it, but his parents were a different story. They both had heavy accents and that made it a little difficult to understand what they were saying. She would just have to pay attention then.

“Shall we head home?” Viktor asked, grabbing Hermione’s bags from his father.

Hermione, Viktor, Mr. Krum, and Mrs. Krum headed outside the airport. Hermione was a little shocked to see that a limo was waiting for them but then remembered that Viktor was an international Quidditch star so of course he would have a limo.

A chauffeur held open the door and Viktor gestured for Hermione to slide in. He followed, then Mr. and Mrs. Krum.

********

Hermione sat there, looking around at the beautiful ebony color wood that lined the limo. The black leather was comfortable. The silence in the car was beginning to bother her. She was about to say something when Mrs. Krum spoke.

“Hermione, Viktor tells us that you are a very brilliant young voman. Vhat are your favorite classes?”

“Well, Mrs. Krum--”

“Please, call me Annetta,” Mrs. Krum interrupted.

“Well--Annetta, my favorite class would have to be arithmancy. I love just using the formulas and calculating everything. And when it all matches up to answer perfectly, I feel so peaceful.” Hermione stopped. She looked at Viktor’s family to see if they were looking at her strangely or laughing. They weren’t.

“Vell, then, Hermione, you must talk vith Alexander. He is also passionate about arithmancy,” Annetta said, smiling. She had hobbled over the English words the eintire time of speaking with Hermione. She was trying so hard when it would just be easier for Viktor to translate between both of them! Hermione felt honored.

“What subjects do you like, Annetta?” Hermione asked politely.

“I love transfiguration. Like my son.” More hobbling. She tried, though. Hermione gave her credit for that.

Hermione looked out the window and saw a huge mansion coming up along the road. “Is that where you live, Viktor?” She pointed to the mansion.

Viktor looked to where she pointed, as did Alexander and Annetta.

“That?” Alexander asked, looking insulted.

“No, Hermione. We live there.” Viktor pointed further ahead of them to the tops of a large castle that rivaled Hogwarts in size.

Hermione stared at it. She knew Viktor’s family was rich, but never that rich. “Wow,” she breathed.

“It’s amazing. Wait till you see it up close,” Viktor told her.

*******

After Viktor and his parents stepped out of the limo, Hermione slid through. Viktor gave her a hand up and she took it.

The castle itself, to put it simply, wasn’t a castle. It was a palace, made of fine marble stone and beautiful landscaping.

Hermione stepped onto the marble stairs to the entrance with great care. It looked so much like glass that she thought it would break under her.

She followed Alexander and Annetta, walking beside Viktor. People all over, who were working one moment, stopped to nod to them and one lady even curtsied!

Hermione didn’t understand what was going on. Viktor was just a Quidditch player. You don’t bow to Quidditch players. What about his parents, though?

“Viktor, what do your parents do for a living?” she asked him when the nodding and bowing people had stopped doing such things.

“My father is into politics,” Viktor replied.

“Your mother?”

“My mother doesn’t work,” Viktor told her.

“Why not?”

“Because we have all the money we need,” Viktor whispered to her.

“Still, she seems like a spirited woman. Shouldn’t she work?” Hermione persisted.

“Mother isn’t supposed to work.” Viktor stopped, then said quickly, “She doesn’t have to, so she doesn’t.”

Hermione stayed silent this time. Viktor didn’t seem to like being on this topic. He seemed uncomfortable with it.

Finally, Hermione and Viktor stopped in front of a door. Alexander and Annetta were not there. They had decided to allow their son and his friend to have some time alone.

“This will be your room. It has one of the best views in the castle. Especially in the morning,” Viktor told her.

Hermione opened the door. The room was beautiful. It was decorated in a Victorian style that was popular about 100 years ago. The walls were white with gold accents. The floor was made of an expensive, light-colored wood that she couldn’t place.

She looked to see the bed. It was queen-sized and had a silky canopy of white and gold. The bed spread matched the canopy with the same white and gold that was used all over the room.

“Are all the rooms like this?” Hermione asked as she felt the wall covering.

“No, actually, the next room over is deep red with black accents,” Viktor told her. She looked over at him to see if he was joking. He looked very serious, but smiled all the same. “It’s true.”

“We believe you,” she said sarcastically.

“Would you like a tour?” Viktor asked her politely. “It might take all day, but that’s okay.”

“I think the bathroom would be enough of a tour today,” Hermione said, looking in at the bathroom. “I might need a map to get from the toliet to the sink!"

Viktor laughed. He walked over and looked into the bathroom. “Oh, it’s not that big.”

“It’s about the size of my room at home!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Really? Wow. My parents bathroom is about double the size of this one.” Viktor said, checking for dust on the walls.

Hermione stared at him. “It’s larger than my parent’s room.”

“I suppose I’ll let you rest,” Viktor said, walking to the door of her rooms. “Oh yeah,” he said, turning around. “Dinner’s in a few hours and I’ll pick you up. One question, though.”

“What?”

“There’s a banquet tonight and I was curious if you wanted to go,” Viktor said.

“Do you want to go?” Hermione asked him.

“It doesn’t matter to me. I’ve gone to so many of them. Do you want to? There’s dancing---”

“Dancing? Really?”

“Yeah, of course. Probably not what you’re used to,” Viktor said.

“Dancing is dancing,” Hermione said excitedly.

“You’re sure?” Viktor asked, eyebrows raised.

“You make it seem like it’s so bad. What’s wrong?” Hermione asked him. Viktor ignored the question.

“Well, then, if we’re going to go, then I’ll have to get a seamstress to work on some clothes,” Viktor said. “I’ll go find one now.”

Before he left, Hermione asked, “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

Viktor walked back into her room and closed the door. “Nothing’s wrong with your clothes. They’re perfect, but not for the banquet. You need a dress for that.”