Dear Hermione

Dear Hermione,

You're dating Krum now? How do you manage that one? Are you planning on spending a week at his house or something? Hermione, why don't you date someone you know better? I don't really know how to say it, but I just wanted to warn you that there's something fishy about Krum. Be careful with him.

Ron

+X+

The waiter returned with her change, and she put most of it on the table as a tip. As Viktor looked excitedly at the currency, the waiter finally talked to Hermione.

"You're Granger... Hermione Granger, right?" he asked cautiously.

She nodded slowly. "Do I know you?"

"It's Joshua Clarks, remember? Torquay Primary?" He extended his hand.

"Oh!" replied Hermione, shaking his hand. "Oh, yes. You live near me, don't you?"

"I'm right behind you. Remember the fun time we had catching newts? And playing Pirates and Book Tag?"

Hermione smiled and nodded, remembering memories just over five years old, and yet several lifetimes away. She remembered the thickly be-spectacled, freckled, and braces-wearing boy of the past, and decided that the five years had changed Joshua nearly as much as Hermione.

"Ready to go, Viktor?" she called. He stopped staring at a quid and moved over to Hermione and Joshua.

"It vos very tasty, thank you," said Viktor politely, and he shook Joshua's hand too. He then made for the exit, and Hermione shot one last glance at Joshua. The waiter raised his eyebrows at Hermione, who just made the phone symbol to the side of her face and then followed the Bulgarian outside.

They shaded their eyes to the sunshine and waited a minute to adjust to the light. Soon, they began walking to Beachcove, where they could dip their sore feet into the water. When they arrived at the beach, the sun was beginning to dip into the western part of the sky. In silence, they removed their shoes, Viktor required some assistance from Hermione, and stood knee deep in the water. The surprisingly few tourists began to move out of the water and off the beaches, back to their cars and rental houses. When Hermione's watch read four-thirty, there were so few people around that Viktor stealthily took his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at Hermione's feet.

"Oh, no, you don't!" squealed Hermione, but Viktor just smiled the bright smile again.

"Puellam Leffiosa," he whispered, and Hermione rose up just high enough to clear the water. She tried to look disapprovingly at him, but the feeling of the frothy water tickling her soles was too weird. She looked around for any Muggle onlookers, but the old ladies sunning themselves fifty metres away were paying them no attention, and the sea-fishers even further away were concerned with other things.

"Aqua Firma," said Viktor, and suddenly the water Hermione's toes were being sprayed with turned as solid as stone, while still being as flexible and fluid as normal seawater. She stood on the water, and felt herself being carried in and out by the lolling ripples. Viktor joined her, and she watched in amusement as Viktor tried to keep his balance on the bigger waves. Finally, one knocked Hermione over, and as she fought to regain her balance, Viktor smiled mischievously, took out his wand, and said, "Finite Incantatem!" loudly.

Instantly, Hermione feel through the suddenly yielding and very wet substance. She felt her arm and leg hit sandy bottom, and a wave completely soak her back. "Gah!" she shouted, half-irritated and half-laughing.

Viktor was up on the beach, the water just reaching his toes, guffawing hysterically. Hermione made a face at him and stood up, feeling salt water and sand dripping all over her body.

"Oh, very funny, Mr. Krum," said Hermione, walking up to him slowly. "I just might report you to the Misuse of Magic office."

"Oh yeah? Vere? In England or Bulgaria?" he answered, sniggering at his wet and sandy protestor.

"That'd by Bulgaria, mister. Which is located this way," replied Hermione, walking up to him and trying to stare him straight in the eye, but dissolving into little giggles at the situation. When Viktor gave her a haughty, teasing look, Hermione countered by grabbing his left arm and tossing him into the surf.

"Bruise, bruise, blubbff!" he shouted, getting a mouthful of seawater.

"Eh, you deserve it," remarked Hermione, watching him getting even wetter and sandier than her and trying to maintain his dignity. Finally, he got control and rolled onto the beach by Hermione's feet, riding a big wave. She was at first concerned when he began coughing up seawater, but when he turned and spat rather expertly onto her ankle, she shrieked and picked up a handful of wet sand, ready to launch an arsenal.

"Oh, Glinda!" came a singsong voice some metres behind them. Hermione spun around and innocently dropped the sand splat as Viktor stood up quickly. Antigone, looking extremely out of place on the beach in her tight black pants and tall boots, was walking over to them with a look of puzzled amusement on her face.

Hermione looked down at her watch: barely past five. "We aren't late for supper, are we?" she asked, confused.

"No," replied Antigone slowly, looking from Hermione to Viktor and back carefully. "I was just picking up some things for the Carnac trip when I decided to take a last look at the beach before I go. And then I find you. Please tell me you guys were just horsing around?"

Hermione, looking at Viktor and their sodden, messy clothes, suddenly realised how horrible the scene looked. "Antigone, I swear, we were just pushing each other around. Nothing more." Antigone looked rather disbelieving, but not entirely unconvinced, so Hermione added, "I swear. Please, please don't tell Mum and Dad, please! They'll never let me out of the house again!"

The older girl looked again between Hermione and Viktor. "Okay, I won't say a thing. C'mon, I'll drive you guys back home." Hermione and Viktor sighed in relief as they picked up their shows and followed Antigone back to her car. "But," she warned, with one hand on the bonnet and the other on the roof, "I'm not going to make up something about your appearances. You've been warned, okay?"

Hermione nodded glumly, but Viktor had that spark in his eyes again. She watched him expectantly as he sat down next to her, and stifled a laugh as he took the wand out of his pocket and did a quick cleaning spell. Antigone's engine stalled for a brief second, but when it started up again she could find nothing odd in the car but two clean teenagers grinning like idiots.

+X+

Dinner that night was Mrs. Granger's famous boiled chicken, plus some simple vegetable dishes. Mrs. Granger was sure that Viktor was craving Bulgarian foods, and explained to him, through his protests that he actually liked foreign foods, that she simply didn't have enough time to perfect a dish. Hermione and Viktor kept making funny faces at each other, especially though Mr. Granger's description of his afternoon at work. The most interesting thing he had done that day was remove a stubborn molar, and Hermione's familiarity with the process made her want to fall asleep in the Brussels sprouts.

Finally, after an afters of lemon ice cream, Mr. and Mrs. Granger went to busy themselves in the kitchen cleanup, and Antigone left for a leaving party at her friend Claire's house. Hermione led Viktor down the hill of her garden, which levelled out for a metre or two before ending in a small thicket and tiny creek. This was her private place, her thinking place, and after their fun craziness at the beach, Hermione felt comfortable bringing Viktor to the special space.

She flopped down in the fresh-cut grass, watching the red streaks in the western sky fade, and the stars appear one by one in the east. Viktor sat next to her, saying nothing and looking above with her. When the whole sky began to turn blue-black, he reached out and took her hand again. Hermione was extremely pleased to find this connection now comfortable, perhaps even natural. Apparently, her unconsciousness had kicked itself into gear. She gave his dark hand a gentle squeeze with her light one and rolled onto her side to face him.

Before either of them even knew what was happened, they began kissing. Hermione felt herself turn bright red, but Viktor didn't notice and Hermione didn't care - this just felt so right, so natural. Viktor put one hand on her waist as she put hers on his shoulder, and with great care, they kissed deeply for minutes at a time. Finally, just when Hermione felt she might explode from the powerful sensation of kissing Viktor, he pulled away forcefully and sat up.

"What is it?" whispered Hermione, looking around for the cause of the interruption. Viktor shook his head and ran his fingers through his black hair.

"You are a vonderful person, Hermy-ne. And kissing you is unlike any others." Hot acid churned in Hermione's stomach. She wasn't his first! "Effen now, I haff to be getting back to Falmouth, and then I'll be in Bulgaria." He paused and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Hermy-ne, but we're just not going to vork out. Can ve still be friends?"

Hermione stared at him, as shocked as he was earlier when Antigone had opened the door. "What?" she demanded sharply. "You're breaking up with me, just like that?"

"Hermy-ne," replied Viktor calmly, "ve never really vere a couple, or 'going out', or hovever you say it. I'm sorry, but I just can't date a girl so far away, vat vith Quidditch and such. I just vanted to tell you before ve, you know, got serious."

"Oh, so this whole day's just been a big joke to you, huh, Mr. Popularity?" snapped Hermione. "I guess I'm not good enough for a Bulgarian star! I'm tarnishing your corona! O woe!"

"Hermy-ne," Viktor pleaded. "Ve can still be friends."

She glared at him. "I'm not about to burn bridges, but I'm extremely mad at you. I suggest you Apparate out of here before I start seriously breaking some underage wizarding laws."

Viktor looked like he was about to say something, but decided against it, and Disapparated with a hollow pop. Hermione looked at the spot where he last was, muttered something about splinching, and started climbing the hill to her house.

On the other side of the creek, through a few leafy tree branches, Joshua Clarks stood. Where a look of Muggle confusion and panic should have been on his face, there was only one of understanding - and even, perhaps, a little smile.

+X+

Dear Harry,

I've managed somehow to have one of the best days of my life, followed by one of the worst nights ever. I feel so stupid now. To sum things up, he and I walked around town, ate lunch at a pizzeria - which I paid for, only making it worse - and had a really fun time playing at the beach. Viktor and I had such a connection - or so I thought.

After dinner, we went down to my favourite place in the garden. So then, after kissing me, which was definitely the highlight of the date, he tells me that he can't date a girl that lives so far away. After all I'd done for him that day! The nerve of him! Harry, promise me now that if you ever become a Quidditch star, you never get haughty, especially to girls that you've told are wonderful people.

I'm just so mad right now. I wish I had someone to talk to face to face, but Antigone's in France, Mum's at work, Crookshanks isn't responding, and I don't have any friends in town. Oh well, I guess I'll just work on my Potions essay - another thing to hate.

Please write me back and tell me I'm not insane!

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

P.S. Why did you tell Ron?