Past Present

Christmas Eve morning broke foggy and snowy and a little gray. Feathery flakes were floating here and there, and the snow was well up to Hermione's knees already. Hermione was glad for her long overcoat and the cloak that covered it when the wind howled across the lawn. Their breath condensed in great clouds when the wind was still. "So, anything else you would like to take?" Viktor asked, handing her the small overnight bag from the ground.

"No, I think this is plenty. My presents are in here, and a change of clothes each and I think that will do unless we get stranded somewhere. Unlikely if my parents drive us back to Diagon Alley. Or we can ride the underground on Christmas morning, if we stay overnight, but they do a limited schedule, and only in the morning. We wait too late, we'll never get a train. We were going to spend the night, weren't we?" Hermione asked.

"Planning on it. Unless something changes," he replied, pulling on a pair of gloves. He too was bundled up against the cold, with hiking boots, heavy jeans, a sweater, long overcoat and his cloak on top. It would be windy on the broom, and walking Diagon Alley would be cold as well. "Ready then?"

"Ready as I'll ever be. Wished Hagrid a Happy Christmas yesterday, just in case I didn't see him before we leave again tomorrow. Am I to be in front or in back?" Hermione asked as he got on the broom.

"In front I think. It will be easier," he said, parting his cloak and tossing it back over his shoulders. "Now you on," Viktor said, pushing the broom closer to the ground. She straddled the broom and settled in, her small pack over her shoulders and between them, gripping the handle with her gloved hands. "Now then, pin this in front, and maybe we both will avoid freezing to death on the way to Hogsmeade. I think Hogwarts is trying to compete with Durmstrang this year. Elena wrote me that they were almost up to their eyeballs there last week," he added, flipping his cloak around both of them. Soon enough they had made it to the Three Broomsticks, and they hurried inside to get out of the wind. "Well, the Firebolt might as well go into the pack now. Reducio. Do I get the honor of carrying it or are you going to smack me with it if I try to pick it up?" Viktor said with a quiet smile. His cheeks were very red from being in the frigid wind, and Hermione felt sure hers were just as flushed.

"In the spirit of Christmas, you can carry it. Got the Floo powder?" she asked, rubbing her arms and huddling near the fire. He nodded and pulled one glove off with his teeth, reaching into the pocket of his coat and pulling out a small bag of powder.

"You haff done this before, right?" he asked, offering her some.

"Sure. With the Weasleys. Throw first, state your destination clearly, step in," she recited. "Me first or you first?"

"I had better go first. See you in a minute. Diagon Alley!" Hermione waited a moment, then followed, stating the same destination. For several moments, she felt as though she were whirling around and around, fireplace after fireplace, until she came to a stop in the one located in the shop at Diagon Alley.

"Don't think I'll ever get used to that..." Hermione said, steadying herself against the side of the fireplace.

"Oh, you do after you do it several hundred times," Viktor said. "It does not get more pleasant, but you get used to it. We will walk to the entrance and cut through to the Leaky Cauldron. Then we had better put the cloaks in the pack as well." They walked up the cobbled street and entered the Leaky Cauldron, the rather shabby looking pub that concealed the magical door between Diagon Alley and Muggle London. "You want anything before we leave?"

"I wouldn't say no to a butterbeer. I could do with some warming up," Hermione replied, rubbing her hands together. The pub was largely deserted, except for a couple of old wizards at the bar deep in discussion with one another, and Tom, the innkeeper.

"Two butterbeers, please," Viktor said, leaning over the counter.

"There you go. And where might you two be headed in that mess out there? Or are you going out into that mess?" Tom asked as he set the bottles on the counter.

"She's going home to see her parents. I'm just along for the ride," Viktor replied quietly. As they were finishing their drinks, one of the wizards at the bar, now deep into an animated argument, slid off his barstool and came over to their table.

"'Ere now, Barn an' me are 'avin' a bit of a wager. Are ye or are ye not Viktor Krum?" he asked, narrowing his already beady eyes under enormous bushy white eyebrows.

"I still was the last time I checked, so whoever thinks I am wins," Viktor called loudly across the room, then finished off his butterbeer.

The wizard standing next to the table laughed gleefully and the one still at the bar mumbled "Oh, nuts," into his flagon.

"Tol' ye so, now ye can get my tab!" the winner of the bet gloated to his companion.

"Come on, let's go before they get started betting on statistics," Viktor whispered across the table.

"Don't like talking about your statistics?" she asked.

"Do not know them in the first place. You would be surprised how many people can quote me how many games I haff been in with which teams, when I haff no idea. And they all hang out in places like this, making bets," he whispered back. "I haff not been on the underground since I was here in the summer, about how long will we be on it?"

"Oh, twenty minutes at most, I would think. We'll still get there pretty early," Hermione answered. Viktor gathered up their cloaks and put them into the pack, then slung it over his shoulder. They walked out the front door into a light snow and a London street full of shops decorated with fairy lights and tinsel.