Rating:
PG-13
House:
Astronomy Tower
Characters:
Hermione Granger Viktor Krum
Genres:
General Romance
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 06/09/2003
Updated: 11/20/2003
Words: 224,686
Chapters: 100
Hits: 71,003

Past Present

Miss Yetigoosecreature

Story Summary:
Hermione, Harry, and Ron visit Viktor Krum in Bulgaria and discover there's a lot more to Viktor's past than they could have imagined.

Chapter 24

Chapter Summary:
The trio finally make it to Durmstrang for the Opening Ball. They also meet the mysterious Durmstrang Guardian, and the new Headmaster, Potenko. Viktor asks an unusual favor and receives some rather bizarre and vague advice in return. We find that the Trio aren't the only ones who go grounds-roaming at night. Also, formal introductions and formal, err, reintroductions, just for the fun of it.
Posted:
06/26/2003
Hits:
697

"Hagrid, are you sure this is far enough outside for the portkey to work?" Harry called.

"Fer sure. Now you three be careful... no tellin' what some o' them students at Durmstrang might be up ter...I don't hold wi' some o' them foreigners..."

"We will, Hagrid. We will," Harry assured him. It was nearly evening already, on Friday, and the three of them were eager to take the portkey to the as yet undisclosed location near Durmstrang's grounds. Each one of them had a small pack that would serve as a sort of overnight bag, their dress robes and cloaks carefully stored inside with some other clothes. Mrs. Weasley had even insisted that Ron take the new dress robes he had worn to the Quidditch reception, though Harry couldn't imagine how the Weasleys had managed to find the money for such a thing. Of course, Ron had managed to outgrow the hideous dress robes he had worn to last year's Yule Ball, maybe it was out of necessity.

"Well, here then," Hagrid said, handing Harry an old tin can that had once held soup. "Couple o' minutes, and this thing leaves. I'll meet yeh back here this time Sunday," he added.

Soon they felt the familiar jerk behind their navels, and they staggered to a stop in a dark, damp spot. "Where are we exactly?" Ron wondered aloud, gathering himself from the ground again. "It's dark as a cave..."

"It is a cave. I am sorry it had to be here, but it could not be in the open. If I did it anywhere else, they promised to revoke the invitation," came a familiar voice from a few feet away. "Lumos." As the wand burst into a beam of light, they could finally make out Viktor's form against a gray shelf of rock.

"The board of governors?" Hermione asked, readjusting her pack.

"The board of governors. You would think I had offered to host a rabid goblin convention, not invited three people," Viktor complained. "Around this bend, there is the entrance. Then a quick walk to the grounds. I would have preferred the edge of the forest, myself." They followed Viktor's lead and stepped out into the bright sunshine. They found themselves a little surprised at how green and lush everything was. Hermione had half expected frost and nothing but brown, but there was thick green grass, several varieties of wildflowers, a rich and varied stand of trees, there was the sound of what could be a brook or river somewhere in the distance, and the land rolled pleasantly in every direction. The sun was shining and a warm breeze lifted their hair.

As they walked, the sounds of running water could be heard more clearly. After a few minutes, they rounded a low hill, and were confronted with a small pool and a cascade of water pouring from a sizable waterfall, some twenty feet. Viktor walked up to the edge of the pool, placed his hands together, fanned his fingers and plunged them into the side of the curtain of water. He spoke a word, then abruptly parted his hands. To their surprise, the curtain of water parted as well, into two thin layers, as though bent by his hands. It continued to run into the pool as though its flow had never been interrupted.

He then stepped out onto the wet rock beneath the flow of the waterfall, the twin falls of water passing over him, touched only by a slight mist. He walked out to the middle of the falls, then turned back toward the wall of rock and repeated the procedure, also parting the back curtain of water. He then murmured what they presumed to be the password while rapping on the rock three times. A grating noise told them that rock was scraping against rock. He beckoned to them since he would be unheard over the roar of the water. Behind the open rock, a rushing column of water roared by, foaming and swirling. "We have to step into it! Do you want to go one at a time? Once you arrive, you just swim to the surface and wait!" Viktor yelled into Hermione's ear. She shook her head, so he grasped her hand and pulled her aside. "Harry, Ron? Step in or take a hand! I haff to go last either way, the gate closes once the person who opened it goes through!"

Ron and Harry clamped on to the chain, Harry at the head. "Just step forward into it!" Viktor instructed.

Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward, into the rushing column of water. To his great surprise, he remained completely dry, but was sucked upwards, against the current, instead of down. Behind him, he could feel Ron's hand, and he presumed that Hermione and Viktor trailed behind them. There was not nearly as much whirling as was involved when traveling by Floo Powder, in fact, it was rather pleasant, except for the roar and the breakneck speed at which they were hurtling along. After a few minutes, they began to slow considerably, and the roar dulled. They were nudged gently into a clear, still pool of water, apparently very deep. Harry found he could still breathe as easily as before.

"Now, hurry, you haff to get to the surface pretty quickly. Straight up," Viktor said, pointing with his free hand and kicking toward the surface, where the sunlight was filtering through, interrupted by only one large shadow. They all broke through in a few moments, and Harry realized that the shadow he had seen was the Durmstrang ship tied to the dock. Sitting in the sunshine, it didn't look nearly as ghostly as it had when Viktor and the rest had arrived at Hogwarts aboard the great hulk. But it still looked as though it could not possibly be seaworthy, by rights it should be sitting at the bottom, with its leaky looking hull and spiny, skeletal masts.

Viktor let go of Hermione's hand to pull himself up onto the dock. Viktor stepped out of the lake bone dry, but the rest felt a sudden rush of cool water soaking their robes the instant he left the lake. He offered a hand to each in turn and pulled them up as well. "Well, that was interesting," Ron breathed after setting foot on the deck, dripping everywhere. "What happens if the wrong person gets in there?"

Viktor stuck a hand back into the lake and brought it up dripping. "They drown if they do not get out in time. Once you get in, you must know where you are going, you haff to know about Durmstrang to get there. Haff some concept of it in your mind. Else it just shuttles you along forever and never lets you out anywhere. If by some miracle the wrong person managed to open that door, make it through the portal and get into the lake, they would probably still drown. It is a long way down. If not, they would be lunch," Viktor said, shaking the droplets off his hand.

"Lunch?" Ron asked as Viktor fished out his wand and cast drying charms at the three of them, leaving them as dry as himself.

"Lunch," Viktor replied simply. He turned to the other side of the dock, cupped his hands around his mouth, and whistled sharply. For a few moments, nothing happened, then the water around the dock directly in front of Viktor's feet began to bubble and churn. A great scaly head, dragonlike in appearance broke through the water, snorting steamy mist. The creature had large webbed front claws that paddled lazily below the surface as it treaded water, and its large flexible lips peeled back from a mouth full of sharp and uneven teeth that could easily have crushed a full grown man. The head alone rather dwarfed Viktor, big as he was. Right in the middle of the thing's forehead, resided an unblinking third eye, golden where the others were green. Viktor crossed his arms and stood as though waiting to be addressed. Ron, Harry and Hermione scrambled backwards and nearly stepped back off the dock, they were so startled.

The creature snorted loudly, the hot breath from its nostrils blasting Viktor's loose robe straight back, rippling the folds in his pants, as though in a stiff wind. It regarded them all for a moment in silence, and the three half expected to be eaten in turn. "English please," Viktor piped up into the silence. Hope he doesn't mean 'Try the English cuisine first, please' Harry thought to himself.

"English, eh? One of my newer tongues. You belong here on these grounds, though you will be nothing more than a visitor soon, that much is certain. These three, I smell the foreignness on them, they do not belong here at Durmstrang. If you had not called soon I would have come to investigate, perhaps even on land though I rarely venture there any more, for they smell particularly tasty... friend or foe... am I to welcome and protect them, or am I to crunch their bones?" came a deep, snarling voice from the creature, his lips curling back from the teeth again in a grimace. His head bobbed and dipped again to within a couple of inches of Viktor's face on his long flexible neck, and he regarded them all with his eyes narrowed to shrewd green slits.

Viktor bowed his head subtly, a gesture of respect, then raised it and spoke, "These three are here at my invitation. No harm is to come to them. In fact, I would ask a favor."

"Favor? Ahhhh, very well, Viktor. I suspect I know what it will be. You have not asked one of me in all the time you have been here. Not like some of those sniveling idiots who come rushing at every problem, waking me from my rest when they hear I might grant favors. I half expect some of them to ask me to do their schoolwork for them! They do not realize that favors must be earned. You were one who solved your own problems, asked no favors. Your father was the same. As was your mother. They did not come to ask a favor until their graduation. That I promise to look after any children they might send here, if I were still Guardian. Rather useless favor, it turns out, as you seem to have looked after yourself, and the other never set foot on these grounds. More is the pity. The world would have been better off with another child of Nikolas and Anya in it." The great head wagged back and forth, tongue clucking sadly for a moment.

The Guardian tossed his head slightly, and continued, "You have lived up to your name, first, middle, and last, in many ways. Viktor. Often the victor, even when his companions are not victorious. Nikolas. You carry many of the same merits and faults passed on by the man who gave you that name and helped bring you into this world. Krum. The Bulgarian Khan. Those who think you might carry his blood in your veins are wise, for it is so, you carry his legacy."

"Krum nearly conquered the Byzantines, would have, had his time not been cut short. He had the skull of Byzantine Emperor Nikephoros made into a drinking vessel after massacring his army. Silver plated.

The Khan drank from the skull of his enemy, civilizing agent though he was. First true governor of his country, you govern yourself now with the same iron hand. I was lucky enough to meet the Khan who bore your name when he visited Gryndel. Krum the Great. Krum the Terrible. Krum the Law-Giver. You have the same set to your chin, and you fairly reek of the same qualities I found in him. Not a common scent on the grounds these days. Or ever, for that matter." The Guardian's head shot forward and nudged Viktor solidly in the shoulder, almost conspiratorially. He neither moved nor commented, and the Guardian cocked a scaly brow approvingly and took a long sniff up Viktor's chest, nearly brushing his chin with the great scaly nostrils. The Guardian's breath ruffled his hair before the creature backed off.

"Worthy companions, I hope, if you find them worthy of your protection. You will continue to live up to all of your names, if I see into you clearly. But I would expect no less of the son of Nikolas Krum and Anya Milyaskova," the Guardian added with a great sigh. "I would have granted you many favors if you had but asked, as I would have gladly granted your parents many favors. Your parents were part of a mostly peaceful time here at Durmstrang. The one who rises anew was just a rumble in the distance. Pity you could not have been a part of that untroubled time," the Guardian said almost kindly.

"I told them I would be threatening to eat their great-grandchildren when they were out past curfew. I will probably be threatening to eat yours, if they are sent here. Very well, Viktor Nikolas Krum, ask your favor, and I will grant it," the Guardian said in a surprisingly gentle tone, nudging his great scaly nose, if possible, even closer to Viktor's face and peering into his eyes with a curious and questioning gaze.

"I ask that while these three are on the grounds, under your domain, you guarantee their safety. Everywhere. Anywhere. From everything," Viktor requested.

"You mean protect them on the entire grounds from any danger, not just guarantee that I or my children do not make them into a meal? Do you know what you ask?" the Guardian probed, narrowing his eyes even further.

"I do. I want you to protect them by any means necessary. From anything. From anyone. From everyone. If that means you haff to tear me limb from limb to prevent me from deliberately bruising one of them, whether under my own control or not, so be it," Viktor said softly but firmly, in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Kill then? Kill anyone who threatens them? Anything?" the Guardian asked lightly, sliding a rasping pale tongue across his teeth in a thoughtful gesture.

"Kill if necessary. I do not want one hair on their heads touched while they are here. I promised their safety. To them. To others. I mean to guarantee it, even if it means death. Do you understand?" he replied.

"I understand. I understand that you are truly your father's son. He was loyal as well, and honorable," the Guardian said, widening his eyes and continuing to stare into Viktor's eyes intently. "You have a lot of Anya Milyaskova flowing through your veins as well, I made no mistake by putting you in Gryndel's house same as your parents. You would have done the founder proud," he added, continuing to survey Viktor's face for a moment before pulling back.

"You flatter me," Viktor replied, again giving the deferential bow of his head.

"Sadly I do not. I scarcely do you justice. Very well, Viktor. You have your favor, and I cannot say you have not earned it. That you will not earn it soon enough," the Guardian narrowed his eyes and took them in, then turned to look toward the mountain. "Earth, air, fire, water. Two escape during the old order, defeat him in the new. Purebloods, halfblood, mudblood, too. Two escape from death, now death pursue. The risen cannot last, not when the past is present, and the present past," the Guardian said slowly, then turned back to Viktor. "I will let my children know they are not to be touched, even if that means snapping Headmaster Potenko's head off to keep him from pinching them," the Guardian said. "Oh, and Viktor... this is very important for some reason. Look to your heart. You will know when it is time to put this to use," he added almost as an afterthought. He gave his own respectful nod, then sank slowly below the surface, almost regal in his bearing.

"Wh...wh...what on earth was that?" Harry forced out finally.

"The Guardian. He belonged, if such a thing can be said to actually belong to anyone, to Gryndel, the founder. Bound to him really, more accurately. Gryndel saved his life and gave him a place to live. He was left with the task of guarding the grounds, and sorting us when Gryndel died and could no longer do so. He is ancient beyond measure, he sees things, some past, some present, some future. Sometimes he speaks in riddles, and it is useless to ask him to clarify. I think perhaps even he does not know what his riddles mean at times."

Viktor looked at the water, and spoke again, "He was probably ancient beyond measure by the time he came here. Heaven only knows what he really is, I do not think he would haff granted Newt Seamander an interview for Fantastic Beasts, and strictly speaking, he is not a beast, since he obviously can carry on a conversation. He will sometimes grant favors, if you earn them and can get up the courage to ask. He has the right to eat you if you ask a favor you are unworthy of, but I do not think he has actually exercised it since Gryndel's day. A certain matter of a dishonest professor accepting payments from parents for grades and asking for a means of escape when Gryndel discovered it," Viktor replied, turning to face them again.

Viktor continued, "He is rather an effective deterrent to students wandering the grounds when they should not, as well. The last thing you want is for the Guardian or one of his children to come on you while they are hunting. When they are hungry, they are not nearly as reasonable as he was just now. They did apologize for eating the horses that time, but then, the last groundskeeper should not haff left them in the field. Little good it does for anyone to shut the door and apologize when the horse is already out of the barn and eaten. They do not hunt often, only once every few months and they warn the faculty so they can keep an extra eye out, but they do not bother telling the first year students that," he grinned. "Alexei and I were one of the few who bothered to read up much on the history of our school, so we soon worked out when it was safe by watching how many faculty were listed for grounds patrol," he added with a wink to Hermione.

"You don't seem the type to be out wandering around when you shouldn't be," Hermione said.

"You don't either but you seem to be in the thick of a lot of things. Have you not heard that it is always the quiet ones?" Viktor laughed. "Alexei and I used to sneak out to the lake at least once a week after hours after we figured it out, down to the paddocks to give the horses carrots and apples, we broke into the library just to prove we could, flew on the Quidditch pitch in the dark... once we went into the woods when we had no business being there and almost got ourselves eaten by a Romanian Longhorn. What it was doing this far north, I haff no idea, but we nearly stepped on its tail, and if it had not been for the trees being so thick and the moon being behind a cloud, I think it would haff found us in two seconds and no one would haff known what happened to us. We ran back so hard we very nearly ran headlong into the moat, and then into Madame Durshenkova on patrol in the hall. I'm surprised she could not track us by the pounding of our hearts and our panting anyway. For a librarian, she is a bit deaf. It scared us so badly, we did not sneak out again for a month. We contented ourselves with raiding the kitchen every night. We did not get to do it much once I started being off campus so much and Alexei started taking tamer company of the female sort on his nighttime walks. It is a wonder we survived a year, we were so foolhardy," Viktor added, sobering a little.

"So where is the castle?" Ron asked.

"You're looking at it," Viktor replied.

"What? No I'm not. There's nothing there. There's the lake, there's the dock, there is the mountain range, there are the woods, but I sure don't see a castle," Ron said, waving his hands about the grounds. He stared off at the base of the mountain, where a light mist swirled in the sunshine.

"Yes you are. The Guardian heard us coming, he concealed the castle. Look, " Viktor spread his palm in front of his lips, pursed them, and blew a short blast of air in the direction of the mist. It scattered as though pushed out on a hurricane. A short stroll from the edge of the lake, there stood a deep, wide moat, and situated behind it, butted up against the foot of the mountain, stood a tall, imposing castle, thinner and taller than Hogwarts, a deeper shade of gray that would blend in quite well with the mountains, especially when the sun was not as bright as it was currently. It looked more welcoming than any of them could have imagined, from Viktor's descriptions of it.

"So how do we get across the moat? I don't see a drawbridge or anything like that," Hermione asked.

Viktor walked up to a great stone pillar on the shore, to the left of its mate. He pressed a sequence of stones, and the water began to churn. "Not another of your friends?" Harry asked.

"No. The bridge," Viktor replied, as large blocks of stone began to rise in sequence out of the water, constructing a curving walkway across the moat, evidently unsupported by anything other than thin air. "Come on then," he said, walking toward the edge.

"Is that thing going to hold?" Hermione asked.

"I haff used it for years," he replied, stepping backwards onto the bridge, jumping up and down on it, the stone not budging under his feet. They walked across and into the castle, greeted inside the foyer by a man not nearly as tall as Viktor, but certainly many times as broad. He rather reminded Hermione of a polar bear, with his sleek white hair, his full face, ruddy round cheeks, and his portly frame. He barely reached Viktor's chin, he had large black eyes, that twinkled rather like another headmaster's, and his robes were trimmed in a shaggy white fur, which furthered the resemblance to a big white bear.

"Headmaster Potenko," Viktor called to him, bowing slightly before covering the rest of the distance between them.

"Mr. Krum. I trust all your guests have arrived safely and find themselves welcome? I must apologize for not meeting you at the bridge, you arrived earlier than I expected," Potenko said in a thick Russian accent, heavily rolling his 'r' sounds. "I must also apologize for the state of the castle. We are still in the first stages of making it...a bit more comfortable, but I hope the guest rooms will be satisfactory. You may find our house elves more evident than usual. Do not hesitate to ask for anything you may need from them. Albus Dumbledore helped me to expand the staff over the summer. I still have a terrible time convincing them that they can call me a dotty old fool if they like, but they have made progress. Is Dumbledore well? Any news from Hogwarts?" The words tumbled from his mouth rapidly, and the three were a bit taken aback that he had mentioned Dumbledore in such an obviously affectionate manner. His voice boomed almost as though it were shouting from a barrel, which seemed appropriate, given his barrel shaped frame.

"He's fine, I suppose. We have our usual one and done Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Fleur Delacour from the Triwizard Tournament is taking the job for a year, so I suppose he will be looking for another soon enough. He did say to send greetings and congratulations on starting your first year as headmaster. Did you say he helped you get more house elves?" Hermione said after a pause. Dumbledore must have really been scraping bottom, she thought to herself. Fleur hadn't even managed to avoid the Grindylows in the second task, what could she know about defense against dark arts? It might be Lockhart all over again.

"He did. I sent some of them to Hogwarts to train with a, err, Dobby, I think it was. Mr. Krum, I think I can work out which one is Miss Granger, but the other two, I may need a bit of help," Potenko waved a meaty hand in their direction.

"I apologize. I am being lax with introductions. This is Miss Hermione Granger. She is entering her fifth year at Hogwarts, and she was an admirable partner at the Yule Ball last year," Viktor lifted Hermione's right hand and placed it lightly in the headmaster's broad, spread hand. He lifted it and planted a speedy formal kiss on the back of it, then folded the other large hand over it.

"Pleased to meet you Miss Granger. Welcome to Durmstrang. May you find your two days here pleasant," he added with an even more formal bow.

"This is Mr. Ronald Weasley, also entering fifth year. I believe you met his father once at a conference. Mr. Arthur Weasley, he works with the Ministry," Viktor steered Ron by the shoulder, maneuvering him so Potenko could shake his hand, sandwiching Ron's hand much as he had Hermione's.

"Ah, yes, Arthur Weasley. He gave a fascinating presentation on Muggle Artifacts. Years ago. He could not have been much older than yourself, but I cannot forget that shocking red hair. You will find we do not see many redheads at Durmstrang," Potenko seemed to barely suppress a laugh.

"And this is, of course, Mr. Harry Potter. Fifth year, fellow competitor and champion in the Triwizard Tournament," Viktor added in a soft voice.

"Mr. Potter. You have my admiration for your worthy performance. Particularly in the face of such a large disadvantage. Viktor tells me you demonstrated some remarkable flying skills, so it is a pity you will not be staying long enough to get a great deal of flying in, or even a scrimmage." Potenko spoke gently, then smiled. "I do not know what we will do for entertainment when Viktor is not on a house team any more. Take field trips to Vratsa, I suppose. I fear any replacement Professor Pushkin finds for Gryndel House will be a bit of a letdown in most people's eyes," he continued, turning his smile on Viktor. Unlike Karkaroff's flattery, they all got the feeling this was genuine praise.

"You haff not seen Brecht fly yet this year, then? She has been training over the summer, gotten very fast. I would not be surprised if she bumps Masha out of the starting position easily. Her style would be different of course, but a little variety never hurt anyone. That would be five good years counting this one from a first class seeker for Pushkin. There was Quidditch before I played, there will be Quidditch long after I am gone," Viktor shrugged.

"But I do believe it will be a long time before we see someone else here with your kind of skill at such a young age. I feel privileged to have seen you play so many games well before everyone talked about you in the World Cup. But enough Quidditch talk. I am sure your guests want to get to their rooms. I put them near your quarters, the ones nearest the guest baths," Potenko motioned toward the central staircase and Hermione found herself shiver a little when the image of Poliakoff trying to wrestle a delirious Viktor down them flashed through her mind.

"All you haff to do is notify me, and there will be tickets for you, whenever and wherever you want them. How can I not offer them after that high praise?" Viktor smiled back.

"I will be seeing all of you at the Opening Ball, if not before," Potenko added bowing formally once more, before turning militarily on his heel and striding off down the hall, where Hermione figured Karkaroff's quarters had once been, where the infirmary was. Where Viktor allowed in his letter he had almost died. And somewhere at the head of the stairs was the stone floor where he would have died had Alexei not found him in time. She stared up at the staircase for a long while, until her thoughts were interrupted by Viktor's voice.

"I hope you do not think he was presumptuous? Kissing your hand? It is just that it is customary when there is a formal introduction..." Viktor began anxiously.

"No, no, it was fine. I feel like I'm in a fairy tale or something, all this formal bowing and kissing of hands. So if we had been formally introduced, you would have kissed my hand?" Hermione asked as she shouldered her small pack again before Viktor could scoop it up and they set off up the stairs.

"I suppose I would have. Problem is, there was no one to introduce us, Miss Granger. And I wish you would let me take that," he added in a light voice.

"I'll hit you with this pack if you offer again. It's only a few changes of clothing. I had to hang onto it for all I was worth the entire walk. Don't think I didn't see you eyeing it. I'm perfectly capable of carrying it myself," she groused.

"That is not the point. You are a guest. I haff had it drilled into me from birth to carry a lady's luggage when she is a guest," Viktor argued back.

"Well, Hermione's no lady, so you haven't broken any rules," Ron laughed.

"It's a bit close to the truth, Viktor. Tell you what, I'll settle for the formal introduction later in lieu of you carrying my luggage," she laughed.

"Viktor! You back already!" a familiar voice exclaimed from the upper railing. Alexei's dimpled face shone over the banister near the top of the stairs. He ran down a few stairs to meet them, then whirled and accompanied them to the top, almost jogging to keep up with Viktor's long stride. "You might vant to haff your stick ready. I do not think girls believe me anymore vhen I tell them you haff date already. Too many years using that excuse. No surprise vhen they do not believe you. Liesl, she is telling everyone she is going vith you and all the girls who believe her hate her for no reason and Katrina is telling everyone she is full of ..."

"Alexei! I am not interested in catfights," Viktor grumbled.

"Too bad, there haff been some goot ones, more vicious than ever. I haff not even decided vhere to begin picking over the leftovers," Alexei said mischievously. Viktor just rolled his eyes in reply. "I think they got vind you might be leaving before the next ball. Katrina has a big mouth," he added over his shoulder.

"I do not think it was Katrina's big mouth that made you ask her to the finals," Viktor replied with an arched eyebrow.

"Fair enough. She has other charms. Madame. Masters Weasley and Potter," he bowed low repeatedly and backed away. "I vill see you at dinner in a little vhile?" Alexei inquired.

"If you behave yourself. Heaven only knows how I stand the embarrassment of being seen with you," Viktor snorted.

"Same vay you take all the attention. Grudgingly. I vill save a table space for six. Maybe I vill haff my date by then. Back to my own little room," he called, waggling his eyebrows and walking across the landing to the upperclass dorms.

"Your bath here, your bedroom here. You two choose between these two rooms, our shared bath is right there. That one up there at the far end is where I ...sleep," Hermione noticed he hesitated a moment before saying the last word, as though actually sleeping in that room was a new concept, something he had never really tried before. "Potenko let me keep it for the time being," he added. She glanced at the patch of stone beneath his boots, wondering where exactly he had sprawled on that night.

Hermione opened the solid oak door to her room and nearly dropped her pack. The room was large, with a heavy oak dresser and bureau, as well as a bedside table. The broad window looked out onto the mountains behind the castle, and the king size canopy bed was draped with opulent curtains, in a deep purple color. "Helps keep out the cold in the winter. I doubt you will need them while you are here," Viktor murmured, flipping the curtain at the head of the bed back with a finger. "And there is a fireplace. Light it if you get cold," he added, pointing at the small hearth on the other side of the bed." He paused and looked around. "It did not used to look like this," he said wonderingly. "Dinner is in an hour," he said, collecting himself. He stepped over to her and picked up her hand, "Why Miss Granger, I am most pleased to meet you. Viktor Krum at your service," he said solemnly, lifting her hand and bending low to place his lips on the back. "I would be most greatly pleased if you allow me to escort you to dinner this evening," he intoned, every bit as formal as Potenko earlier.

"What's the proper response?" Hermione stage whispered.

"If you want to stay in my good graces, 'I would be delighted' works," he whispered back in the same fashion, not changing his expression and barely moving his lips.

"I would be delighted, Mr. Krum," she replied aloud, with a small nod of her own head.

"Until then," he said, taking a large step backwards toward the door, bowing, then swinging on his booted heel as Potenko had done earlier, closing the door behind him. She smiled to herself and shook her head. She should thank Alexei, annoying chatterbox though he was at times, for saving her from losing Viktor before she ever got the chance to meet him. It hurt to picture him on that floor with nothing left in him to fight Karkaroff. She much preferred him now, not so thin and pale and yellow as he was last year. He could still stand a bit more weight on his slender frame, but somehow, he seemed much younger than he had the previous year, awake or asleep, she realized suddenly. Must be because he doesn't scowl so much, anymore, she told herself as she hung her cloak up to shake the wrinkles out of the silvery fabric. Maybe he unpacked a bit of his own baggage over the past few months. He didn't seem so weighted down.