Hi all; thanks for your patience, and happy August! Unfortunately I hurt my back shortly after I posted C28, and I've been in agony since. I had to write this chapter in short bursts, so my apologies that it has taken much longer to post. I'm on the mend slowly but surely now!

It was somewhat surreal having Hermione in his home. Waking up to find her sequestered in his mother's drawing room was a collision of worlds he hadn't expected. Viktor had known almost from the start that his relationship with Hermione was serious. Having her in his most private of spaces, inside the house where he'd grown up, surrounded by memories and overlooked by his guardian, only reinforced that for him. He'd let his guard down enough to be caught red-handed by his father, something he'd been trying to avoid since his delinquent pre-teen years. It could've been worse than being discovered making out with his girlfriend, and Viktor was sure it was going to be the catalyst for a conversation his mother had been hinting at since Christmas.

His father had always been able to say everything he needed with just a quirk of his lips, or a slight crease of his brow. On this occasion the manner in which Illian's eyes glinted informed Viktor that he was amused by his son's brazen disregard of the rules, as well as Hermione's horror. No reprimand had come. In fact, his father broke his silence only when cornering them in the entrance hall as they made their way to the apparition point. With an undertone of warning, he'd addressed Viktor in his usual mellow voice.

'Be watchful son. Our community is unsettled. Do not hesitate to protect yourself.'

It wasn't a reassuring note to leave on, and he knew with conviction that his father had only said it because Viktor had let someone creep up on him when he was vulnerable and distracted. For him, it was a more effective lesson than if his father had told him off simply for their inappropriate behaviour.

Many hours later, Ana and Hermione had forgotten about the underlying threat. He alone remained alert to a potential danger, though he suspected his sister wasn't allowing herself to get as carried away as usual. Viktor had wanted Hermione to himself that morning. However, as they ambled along the overgrown nature trail around the Krushuna Falls, hand in hand, he was happy that Ana had accompanied them for more reasons than one. Firstly, Hermione's eyes sparkled with life as his sister told her tales about the surrounding local villages and the creatures that could be found there. Her delicate features were transformed by the enticement of new knowledge and intellectual conversation, and no part of her was embarrassed to show it. He loved her all the more for that. And, although he'd heard it all before and knew the history of the nearby Hesychast Monastery by heart, Viktor never tired of hearing Hermione's excitable squeaks and seeing the way she bounced on her heels whenever Ana told her something particularly fascinating (such as the role of warlocks in the Second Bulgarian Empire, to which the Monastery dated). Secondly, Ana was a force to be reckoned with in a confrontation, magical or otherwise. Over the years, through her time at Durmstrang and beyond, his older sister had always had his back — he knew that if trouble had met them at Krushuna they would be safe with Ana by their side.

However, Ana's talents weren't required that morning, and for the most part they blended inconspicuously into the groups of muggles enjoying a poodle around the waterfalls. There was the odd witch or wizard making their pilgrimage to collect potions ingredients who cast him lingering, perplexed looks, but Viktor evaded notice by acting himself — no one expected to see Viktor Illianov Krum at a mostly muggle tourist site, chatting animatedly with his two female companions and looking, for all intents and purposes, an entirely normal teenager.

'Viktor,' Hermione said under her breath as he cancelled the Lumos charm that had guided them through a cave, 'That family over there has been staring at you for the last few minutes.'

Viktor's frame stiffened. He reached for the wand in his back pocket and stepped closer to Hermione, closing the last of the distance between them. His wand arm — his left — was free to move the instance he sensed an imminent threat and not before. A matter of moments later, the family's young son approached, shuffling hesitantly until he was stood before Viktor, Hermione and a watchful Ana.

'Excuse me, Sir, Viktor, Sir. My Mum said I shouldn't bother you but I wanted to say hello. I think you're a really cool seeker.'

Viktor felt distinctly uncomfortable. For the briefest of moments he contemplated that he'd rather have been attacked. In all his years in the spotlight, he'd never gotten used to meeting strangers like this, not how Vasily had, for example. While his closest friend in the Bulgarian squad embraced his fame, Viktor disliked the imbalance that came from coming face to face with someone that knew so much about him, when he didn't even know their name. He could feel comprehension ease the pressure of Hermione's stare; she was waiting for him to react, to prove himself. The first time he'd even been approached by a fan he'd been with his father, and Illian had taught him a lesson that stuck with him. Act with integrity. The world is watching you, whether it is just you and one other or you and a stadium full of observers. He'd taken that to mean, 'if someone stops you when you're not in the mood, don't be an asshole.'

'That's really nice of you to say. What's your name?'

'I'm Georgi!'

'That was my Grandfather's name,' Viktor felt his face soften. He loosened his hold on his wand. 'It's a brave name you've got there. Do you play Quidditch too?'

'Yes, Sir! I want to be a seeker like you, Sir!'

At his side Hermione nudged him gently with her elbow. It was obvious she was dying to ask what they were talking about.

'That's great. I'll keep an eye out for your name in the future, Georgi. Maybe we'll be teammates in a few years,' He paused, and then cautiously added, 'I'd like you to meet my friend Hermione. She doesn't like Quidditch much, but we're really good friends and she only speaks English.'

Georgi looked at Hermione shyly and stuck out his hand. Hermione shook it in spite of her reticence.

'Hello Hermione, friend of Viktor.'

Viktor choked back the urge to laugh and was suddenly hit with a light-bulb moment. He discreetly produced his wand, plucked a crispy, brown leaf from a nearby tree and transfigured into it a serviceable scrap of parchment. On it appeared the address of the Wimbourne Wasps. In English, followed by Bulgarian just to be sure, he explained:

'Write to me here in a few weeks. I would like to send you some important equipment that all good seekers should have.'

With a shocked grin that spread from ear to ear, the young boy skipped back to his parents, waving the parchment and shouting 'look at this! look at this!' at the top of his high-pitched voice. Hermione watched him go with a conflicted expression.

'You just made that little boy's day,' She said in a thoughtful whisper. 'I've never seen you interact with a fan outside of Hogwarts before. When I realised what was happening I thought you might send him away.'

'I was thinking that too.' Viktor said ruefully, his eyes still following Georgi's progress. He looked away only when the boy's father gave him a thumbs up, too embarrassed to acknowledge it.

'It's not like that with Harry…' Hermione continued as though she were speaking to herself. 'They never usually want anything from him, except maybe a handshake, to see his scar or to say thank you for what he did as a baby. Yes, they point and they whisper, but Harry's safe at Hogwarts, or so we thought, and therefore he's shielded from so much of that fascination with him. It's silly really, it's as though you're both public property. Who gives them the right to approach you? A complete stranger?' She sighed. 'I guess what I'm trying to say is that it bothers me you have to be on your guard all the time, and when someone feels they have the right to bother you, you have to deal with it gracefully… and if you don't… well I suppose it'd blow up in your face, wouldn't it? Doesn't that bother you?'

Viktor blinked when he realised her passionate tirade had concluded, and she was now asking him a direct question. He'd never thought about it too hard because he'd come to terms with that inequality when he was just a boy and his father would get stopped in the street. In his mind it was a closed case. Her fierce defence of him, however, made him study her more closely. Only his immediate family (and Valentin) had ever truly given thought to the toll it took on him, consciously or otherwise, and bar his best friend, all had been dodging the press for years.

'Hermione, dušička, you are never ceasing to amaze me. You cannot defend all injustices against me, although I am very honoured that you would like to, my lioness. I haff long ago accepted that this is a sacrifice for pursuing my dream of being the best seeker, maybe one day it will not affect you as much. However, it is true that they are not always so courteous and sometimes I am having to remove myself from the situation so I do not ruin my future of playing —'

'That's where I come in,' Ana interjected cheerfully. 'I've hexed some of the ones who overstep their boundaries. There's a lot of crazies out there.'

There was a pregnant pause as Hermione and Viktor thought back to Valentine's Day, and Ana looked almost wistful, before Viktor nodded his agreement.

'However, one thing I am certain about. You will haff always the option to choose how much you want the public to know about us, about you. We can remain a secret to the press if you want. Is true that there are rumours, no thanks to Rita Skeeter, but you must only say and I will do everything I can to make sure you can continue to live your life as… the best friend of Harry Potter.'

They both laughed at the irony of it. The truth was that Hermione was as ordinary as Viktor was outspoken. She'd already had her fair share of the limelight. Whilst she might still be mostly elusive to the foreign press — known only as Harry Potter's clever best friend —, she certainly wasn't a nobody. And, although he hadn't expected to have this conversation so soon, if she informed him that she wanted to hold onto the last of her privacy, then he would make whatever sacrifice meant retaining it. If they could never step out in public without glamours, or could never show affection in front of others, he would do that for her.

'I… I need to think about it,' Hermione said at length. 'I don't want to make anything harder than it is. When it's safe to do so, I'd like to do all the normal things a couple do, whatever they may be. I don't want to hide, and I like people knowing we're together. I'm just not sure if I want the whole world to know it.'

Viktor nodded soberly. He could relate to that.

'Sorry to break this up, but your whispered conversation is starting to attract a lot of looks from the muggles. And it doesn't help that we're blocking the exit,' Ana said, interrupting Viktor and Hermione's brooding. 'Anyone for lunch?'

Viktor was thankful for the change of topic, and, while there was a guilty, clawing feeling in his insides, he resolved to give Hermione all the time she needed.

They both remained quiet and thoughtful as they made their way back towards the ramshackle visitor centre. With an apprehensive whimper Hermione plastered herself to his frame like a limpet, burying her face into the open collar of his shirt. Reaching for his sister, Viktor pictured the seafood restaurant his family had discovered in Varna some summers ago, and Apparated.

…

Lunch was uneventful. Hermione knew she'd been mute the entire time, but couldn't get out of her own head no matter how she tried. Worries regarding Viktor's lifestyle went round and round in her mind, coming back to the same question she couldn't quite answer — did she want the world to know who she was? It wasn't a decision she could make without consequences; there would be no going back if she decided a few years down the line that she wanted to be Viktor's secret girlfriend.

As she'd worked her way through the shared seafood platter, she'd weighed everything up in her head, methodical as always. On one hand, the magical community knowing of her existence meant that Viktor didn't have to hide anything about himself. In a city as large as Varna he'd been forced to wear a glamour — he looked almost ethereal with cropped blonde hair and alabaster skin — and it didn't sit right with her. Their relationship had been built on honesty, and she was sure that much of his initial attraction to her had been because he could be a normal teenager in her presence. She didn't want that to change. That being said, keeping their relationship behind closed doors afforded them privacy; privacy from external interference and opinions; privacy from having their relationship analysed by anyone and everyone who cared. Hermione had once considered herself too logical and sensible to suffer from jealousy. Now? She wasn't so sure. Her boyfriend was about to embark on a tour of the U.K. and Europe, playing Quidditch on the big stage, staying in hotels and attending all manner of flashy events, and there would be witches that wanted to tempt him, no matter how loyal she knew him to be. She very much wanted those people to know who she was.

'Ugh!' She made a frustrated noise, and only realised she'd done so aloud when Viktor's hand reached for hers over the table.

'What is on your mind?'

'You,' Hermione huffed. 'It feels like my head's going to explode.'

Ana laughed through a mouthful of chips. 'Viktor does that to people.'

'Enough,' Viktor snapped, although his amused expression belied the sentiment. Ana simply shrugged and returned her gaze to the seafront visible from the window their table overlooked. The golden sand was disguised by the shear mass of naked flesh beached upon it and the colourful parasols protecting those bodies from the beating sun's rays. Viktor's sister was fascinated by the muggle activity of building sandcastles and had been watching a teen dig a hole for the last fifteen minutes.

'Hermione, I do not expect an answer from you now, not today, not tomorrow,' He glanced sideways as his sister and lowered his voice. 'I know that you will take as long as you need to think this through and come to me with a logical decision when you are ready, and I am wanting you to do that. For now, I will make that decision and keep this false appearance so we can enjoy today undisturbed. I do not want you to be worrying for me all afternoon. Today we can be anonymous.'

Ana settled the bill with a handful of vibrantly coloured notes. When Hermione inquired about them (thinking back to Mr Weasley's bumbling around Sterling at the world cup), Ana sniggered and revealed that her mother kept a stash of Bulgarian Lev. 'She has a penchant for cosy muggle cafes in the capital, you see. Not that she'd dare to admit that in polite Pureblood society.'

They left Ana behind to catch up with old school friends and Hermione contemplated that comment for the duration of their walk to the Apparition point. The Weasleys were the only Pureblood family she knew intimately and they were as ignorant to muggle life as Hermione was to Pureblood etiquette. The Krums, however, were not as simple to understand as they appeared at first glance. Going on Ana's stories, Viktor's ancestors had been as abominable as the Malfoys, yet Viktor and his sister demonstrated no prejudices, and their parents had no qualms about bumping shoulders with muggles for pleasure. Something didn't add up.

Apparating to the hillside overlooking the Rila Monastery made it nye on impossible to do any more thinking, so Hermione stored it in the depths of her mind with the rest of her 'to ponder over later' worries. And, it was just as well, because the sight that met her eyes had her grinding to a halt. It was breathtaking. Unlike at the Krushuna Falls there was no forest canopy to protect them from the sun, and as they joined the processions of tourists following waving flags, all hooked up to audio guides, Hermione noticed that the heat and humidity had done a number on her hair.

Viktor glanced down at her, his dark sunglasses sliding down his sweaty nose, and grinned impishly. 'Everything is okay?'

'Just thinking that next to you I must look a frightful state, all blotchy cheeks and frizzy curls.'

Viktor scoffed and stroked her hair fondly as though to reinforce the point. He was the only person other than her mother that seemed to like her haystack of hair. Weaving his fingers through hers, Viktor guided them through the dense crowd of tourists occupying the flagstoned courtyard. Every single one of them was staring open-mouthed at the frescoes of the main church, the flash on their cameras working as hard as their pocket sized fans. Hermione had to share the sentiment — it might've been one of the most magnificent religious buildings she'd ever seen, and she stated so aloud. Viktor agreed with a proud inclination of his head.

'Ivan Rilski, or the hermit John of Rila in your language, founded this Christian sanctuary,' Viktor explained as they wandered in and out of the white brick archways, 'I thought you would like it as the Monastery supported the publication of books and were champions of educational institutions back in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.'

Hermione frowned in spite of herself.

'I studied the English guidebook before we came,' Viktor admitted sheepishly, 'I do not haff the same vocabulary as my sister, and I was not wanting to let you down. This story is important to my country's history and I was wanting to tell it properly.'

It caused a surge of affection inside Hermione unlike any that had come before. She showed him how much it had meant to her by springing into his arms as they arrived at the viewpoint overlooking the site and kissing him until she was sure her point had been made. And, although she desperately wanted to remain outside to gobble up as much of the history as possible, she was grateful when Viktor dragged her towards a stone building opposite the main gate that housed a traditional little bakery and out of the stifling midday heat.

She perched on a rather wobbly wooden seat in the adjoining garden, enjoying the shade from the parasols and catching her breath. The chalkboard notice outside advertised 'traditional mekitsi'. Viktor appeared with one in each hand, grinning mischievously as he offered her one of the deep-fried pastries.

'Mum and Dad would be going spare right now,' She breathed and narrowly avoided being covered in a mushroom-cloud of powdered sugar.

'What they are not knowing does not hurt them, Ana always says,' Viktor replied happily, taking a huge bite. 'These are Valentin's favourite since he was little boy,' He paused as he chewed. 'Would you… like to see Valentin this evening, Hermione? He has been impatient to see you but I did not want to rush if you were wanting to spend time just us two. He will understand.'

'No he won't,' Hermione snickered, 'Valentin's practically a part of our relationship. And, anyway, of course I want to see him. He owes me an explanation about the Ancient Runes exam. The cheeky wotsit never answered my owl.'

'Valentin is not good at writing letters.'

'No, no he's not,' Hermione agreed with a laugh. 'Just as well he has a winning personality because witches don't like being ignored.'

'I think that is the point,' Viktor's eyes glinted.

'Oh,' Hermione rolled her eyes, and biting back a giggle at the smear of sugar across Viktor's face, reached out with a clean napkin to try and wipe away the worst of it. Viktor watched her thoughtfully.

'You are messy too,' He pointed out. 'Come here and let me help.'

Hermione scooted closer, leaning into his open arms and then squealing when he proceeded to kiss every inch of her face, paying extra attention to the sugar that had collected in the corners of her mouth. She was breathless from giggling by the time he finished.

'There. Much better.'

'You could've just used the napkin.'

'And where would be the fun in that?'

…

They made it back home in time to catch Mrs Krum returning from her shift at the hospital. While Viktor took the dogs out Hermione caught up with Sofija over tea. After a contented ten minutes chatting politely about their little sight-seeing tour, Hermione plucked up the courage to ask something she'd been chewing at all day.

'Sofija, can I ask for your opinion?' Hermione said quietly over the cup of darjeeling.

'Of course, darling. What is on your mind?'

'Well today… a child, one of Viktor's fans, came up to him at the Falls. If I'm honest, I found it a bit alarming, like it was an invasion of his privacy, even though the boy meant no harm. Viktor was so calm and collected though, and it made me realise that's normal for him. And then he raised the question of how much I wanted our relationship to be public —'

'You would like to know what I think?' Viktor's mother said in a soft voice, empathy unmistakable in her features.

'Yes. You've dealt with this two-fold: with Viktor and your husband.'

Sofija nodded thoughtfully. 'Let me tell you a story,' She placed her dainty china cup back on its saucer and considered Hermione through her dark lashes.

'Viktor's father and I met when I was seventeen. That summer I had graduated from Beauxbatons, and I was preparing to make my applications to undertake a healing Mastery. I had known what my future held since I was a little girl, and I had already broken all the rules. You see, I originate from a long line of Kostova Purebloods who "knew their place", and lived for the old ways. By breaking with tradition and attending a foreign school and having dreams of my own, I made it very clear to my family that I would sacrifice everything for my freedom. For many years Illian and I lived without much interference from the press. I studied and became a fledged Healer, and he began to work his way through the ranks, stepping out of the shadow of his father. Illian was always in and out of the papers for his work and there was often speculation about how similar he would be to his father, but nothing to cause us much concern.

That all changed after the birth of our children. The first wizarding war was won when Viktor was four. In the aftermath, Grindelwald supporters made their last stand of support for Voldemort —'

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath.

'My family has suffered too much loss at the hands of evil, Hermione, to fear a name. There are much greater evils, and they don't care for your name before they would take your life. Georgi was murdered for his denouncement of Grindelwald, and Illian chose a path of vengeance. Soon he was in the papers, and not for good reason. Some were supportive of his actions and others branded him as bad as those he hunted. I didn't pass judgement on my husband in those days; he was overcome by grief and protected our family as best he could. We are all guilty of some crimes — myself, of ignorance for believing that was the end of my family's torment. When Illian's good name, that of a hard-working, passionate, and fiercely loyal man, was smeared, I had a choice to make. I could take our children, both torn apart by their loss, and go into hiding to protect the life I'd built for myself. It was Illian who had acted so, and as I have always tried to teach my children, it was Illian who would deal with the consequences. I was still Sofija Kostova in my heart; I had my own career, my future and our children's futures to think about. The wizarding world doesn't forgive, and it doesn't forget.

However, I made an unbreakable vow when we were wed. I would stand by Illian no matter what fate befell us. I had not foreseen such a public life, and I didn't want it. Both of us are very private people. My husband was accused of unlawfully killing the last wizard in the Andonov line, a grave crime indeed — if it were true. Our world was still dealing with the shame of who had followed Voldemort, and Grindelwald in time gone by, and who had done their work through bewitchment. I bared everything on the day of his trial. I revealed the most intimate details of our lives, as professionals, as parents, and made sure all knew I was Sofija Krum. Illian was acquitted, and we have lived in the spotlight since, for many still don't believe his innocence and don't forgive his methods. To act against a fellow Pureblood is a life sentence. Illian is reminded of this daily.'

When Sofija's words trailed off into sad contemplation, Hermione exhaled all the air in her lungs and simply stared. Viktor's mother's raw honesty had brought tears to her eyes, and her throat was thick with the desire to let them spill.

'You think I should accept Viktor for who he is, and his fame is part of that,' Hermione said. There was only a hint of a question in it.

Sofija shook her head. 'No, that intrusion will be a bitter pill to swallow for a witch like yourself. I see so much of myself in you, and Viktor has told us that your future holds great things. You don't need to accept it, but you must be ready for the time when you have to make a choice. Others will force your hand. You will be attacked, whether these people know your name and face or not. To love him is to slowly come to terms with that; for the time being you must decide whether you wish to be judged as Hermione Granger, or his nameless partner. They will discover your existence whether you like it or not.'

Catching her off guard, Sofija got to her feet and padded noiselessly across the floorboards. She cupped Hermione's cheeks in her soft palms, and kissed them in turn. Viktor's mother left Hermione to her thoughts then, and as she stared up at the frame above the fireplace that had been empty on her arrival, she was met with the guileless gaze of Viktor's younger self. He was watching her as though he knew exactly of what they had just spoken.

'I'm sorry, Viktor. You don't deserve my indecision.'

And she allowed herself to cry.

…

'How would you like to travel?' Viktor asked Hermione some thirty minutes later.

He'd found her on the balcony in her room, showered and dressed in her cosy clothes. She'd seen the comprehension dawn as he took in her bloodshot eyes, but he hadn't asked. Hermione appreciated that. Instead, he'd offered her his national team sweatshirt to wear, and as she rolled up the sleeves as to prevent it swamping her, his scent enveloped her and washed away some of the day's tribulations. It was like a permanent Viktor hug, and she smiled at what Ron might've said in that moment.

'Apparition, I suppose.'

It was the lesser of the evils, and Viktor was getting better at making the ride smoother for his "plus one".

'You do not want to sit on a broomstick with me for forty-five minutes?' Viktor pretended to be disappointed.

Her withering look made him laugh; the rumbling, unabashed laughter that he saved for his closest friends. She couldn't help but smile.

'Are you leaving now?' Sofija called out from the second floor landing as she spotted them heading for the gates. They both waved and Viktor shouted back an answering 'Goodbye!'.

'Be safe! I will Floo Mrs Sechev shortly to make sure you arrived safely!'

'She never does that,' Viktor muttered to himself, steering Hermione out of the front door and across the lawn.

'Maybe she thinks we're using Valentin as an alibi?'

'Alibi?' He enunciated the vowels as though testing them on his tongue.

'Yes; Saying we're with him so that she doesn't think we've gone elsewhere to break the rules. That's the kind of assumption Mum would make. Not that I was much of a rule breaker until Harry and Ron came on the scene, but that's besides the point. Sofija doesn't know that.'

'Are we going to break the rules?' Viktor set his dark eyes on her all of a sudden and she flushed at the insinuation.

'You know me too well to ask that question. I'm already beginning to break out in hives at the possibility of us being late.'

'I did not give Valentin a time.'

Hermione giggled nervously, but he removed the need for her to retort by wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his cheek on the crown of her head. Anticipating the summersault in her stomach that signalled Apparition, Hermione winced, but the sensation never came. He just held her.

After a while she lost track of how long they stood there, at the bottom of his gravel driveway, in en embrace that made her forget everything except the feel of his hard body against hers and their rhythmic breathing. They'd been on the go so frequently over the last week, not to mention their permanent audience, that it felt like an age since he'd held her like this — with no expectations.

'We really should go,' She said eventually. 'Your Mum will surely have Floo'd by now, and if she's anything like mine, she'll go ballistic if we're not there.'

Viktor covered her mouth with his in a gentle, savouring kiss and the nauseating sensation she'd been anticipating earlier overtook her; they were away.

They materialised at the end of a sloping grassy field. There was nothing around them but more fields and swathes of spruce trees for as far as the eye could see. In the distance was a modest stone farmhouse dwarfed by its mountainous backdrop.

'Valentin never mentioned he lived in the countryside…'

Viktor smirked. 'You should tease him about it. He had a very strong accent when I first met him.'

'Like a farmer?'

'Something like that.'

It took them nearly ten minutes to cross the sprawling field. Up close Hermione could tell that Valentin's home was exceptionally well kept for such an old building; the second level had been freshly whitewashed, but the rest was constructed from what had to be a local stone, the shade of which reminded Hermione of autumn. Along with the reddish-brown timbre shutters, the whole place seemed to glow in the late afternoon sunshine.

Viktor trudged through the garden, in which Hermione was surprised to find overgrown patches of muggle herbs, and held the front door open for her. It led into a cluttered kitchen which was constructed from more of the timbre she'd seen outside. Compared to Viktor's home there was almost no hint of a magical influence.

'Is… Valentin a half-blood?' Hermione whispered. Blood status had never been of much import to her, though it would explain a lot about Valentin.

Viktor nodded and then shouted out a string of words in Bulgarian. A moment later a sound like a stampede of elephants erupted from the upper level and Valentin came bursting into the room. Hermione was too busy gawping at his attire — a set of quilted golden duelling robes — to react in time to avoid his crushing hug. He swung her around by the waist and kissed her on each cheek.

'You have been leading me on, Miss Granger!' He said in sing-song voice. 'All this time you have been in Bulgaria and you haven't been to see me yet. Viktor's keeping you all to himself!'

Hermione couldn't help but giggle. 'I've been here twenty-four hours Valentin. And I'm not sure that's the phrase you're looking for.'

Valentin looked aghast, and then he winked at her.

'We've got the place to ourself tonight,' He explained to the room at large. 'I invited Petar and Ivo over as they owe me a few rounds with this,' He swished his wand for emphasis.

'Who're they?' Hermione asked, flinching at the twinge of panic in her words.

'We went to Durmstrang together. Petar graduated in our year, and Ivo is his older brother. You'll get along well with Petar I reckon, he's apprenticing for a wandmaker who trained under Gregorovitch himself.' There was a hint of admiration in Valentin's voice.

Viktor had been unusually silent during this exchange, and when Hermione turned to him for reassurance, she noticed that his face was carefully blank. She almost missed the minute shake of his head, and then he was smiling again. Her mind whirred into action — he was either uncomfortable at the idea of introducing her to his friends? (Valentin hadn't actually said they were close) or there was something about the guests that concerned him.

Hermione's thoughts were cut off by the fireplace in the kitchen roaring to life. Mrs Krum's distinctive features were visible through the flames.

'Viktor? Hermione?'

'We're here, mother,' Viktor said stiffly. 'As we said we would be.'

'Oh, that's a relief. I Floo'd earlier and Valentin gave me all manner of excuses.'

Hermione watched as Viktor and Valentin conversed with a mere look; it was the kind of exchange she had with Ron and Harry regularly, more often than not when one or both of them was being an arse.

When the line closed Viktor asked, 'What did you tell my mother?'

'Just that you were probably enjoying some alone time in the woods.'

'What?!' Hermione shrieked, her heart stopping. She did not need to have that conversation with Viktor's mother.

'I'm only joking!' The look of amusement on Valentin's face made her swot at him, and Viktor said something in Bulgarian she was glad not to understand. She hoped Valentin didn't know about the time she and Viktor had gotten carried in the woods.

The tension eased when Hermione inquired about Valentin's plans now that he'd finished school. Speaking at length about his upcoming mastery in Charms ('Oh Valentin, you'll have so much to teach me!') they could've remained in the kitchen all night talking about academia if Viktor hadn't insisted they take things outside so he could at least fly while they chatted. After an inordinate amount of time, Valentin disappeared back into the house and, with a devilish smile that typically preluded some sort of mischief from the Weasley twins, he set down two unlabelled bottles of pale yellow liquid onto the hand-crafted wooden table.

'Care for some Rakija, Miss Granger?' His innocent tone made her eye him warily.

'Is not polite to make your guests sick,' Viktor muttered.

'As if I would!' Valentin scoffed unconvincingly. 'You've brought Hermione all the way to Bulgaria and you have no plans to show her our country's pride and joy?'

Maybe it was her ingrained manners, or spending too much time around and Harry and Ron, but Hermione accepted a tumbler of the liquid, displaying her distrust with a wrinkled nose that had both Viktor and Valentin laughing. She took a sip. It felt like someone had poured liquid fire down her throat, and she spluttered helplessly as the burning sensation worked its way down into her stomach. Only then did she taste a faint hint of plum.

'I'm sorry, but how in Merlin's name do you drink that stuff?'

Valentin roared and drew her into another enthusiastic hug. She settled for Pumpkin juice after that, not that Valentin ceased offering her a 'top up' every time he poured himself one.

She was just getting back into the swing of conversation with Valentin — something that required remembering to breathe midway through the argument — when a loud crack made all three of them jump to their feet. Viktor had just returned from a flight on Valentin's loaned Nimbus 2001 and he dashed to her side in an instant, his hand brushing her arm reassuringly. Two figures were approaching.

A thousand panicked questions whirled through Hermione's mind. Would Viktor introduce her as his girlfriend? Was she supposed to say anything? Would they be as accepting as Valentin?

'Just be yourself,' Viktor said evenly. 'They are good friends; we do not need to hide with them.'

Hermione was used to the curious looks she got when she was Viktor. However, this time she was the object of interest and not her celebrity boyfriend — the new arrivals took turns to bow to her and kiss her hand, before introducing themselves as Petar and Ivo Dolmatov.

'It's nice to meet you.' She said awkwardly when they concluded their formalities.

'The pleasure is all ours,' Petar's accent was hardly noticeable underneath his old-fashioned English. 'Please accept my brother's apologies, he doesn't speak English very well.'

'Oh, that's okay.' Hermione felt her cheeks warm.

'That gives me an excuse to stay with you all night,' Viktor whispered so quietly that only she could hear, 'To be your translator.'

As always, Valentin was the one to prevent an awkward silence, and did so by offering drinks all round, and soon Hermione was listening to Petar speak about his apprenticeship as though they hadn't just met. The auburn-haired wizard was softly spoken in comparison to his charismatic brother, but that suited Hermione just fine — as long as they spoke about common interests she could keep the conversation going. Although she hadn't expected Viktor to 'leave her to the wolves', she was pleasantly surprised that he remained glued to her side for the hours that followed, resting his hand low on her hip in a demonstrative display that quickened her heart rate. Not even that made Petar falter in his train of thought.

Valentin and Ivo had been fooling around with an experimental set of jinxes for quite some time, but it was only when the two wizards fell into a duelling stance did Petar pause and shift his gaze to his brother.

'This will not end well,' He murmured, and Hermione privately agreed.

There were always teachers around at Hogwarts to pick up the pieces when an impromptu duel broke out between students. Here their closest Healer was Viktor's mother, and Hermione had no idea how far from home they were.

'Don't you think we should stop them? —'

'This is always happening when Ivo and Valentin are together.' Viktor said by way of explanation, and Hermione gnawed at her bottom lip in an effort not to tell him off. Scooting closer into his side, she watched as Valentin sprang to life and transformed before her eyes from the good-natured, boisterous wizard she knew well to a power that was predatory. They were both surprisingly graceful for such large wizards, and Hermione watched in awe as they danced light-footed around the garden, shooting spells in the other's direction without respite.

Things became wilder and more daring as the two oldest boys began to down swigs of Rakija whenever one or the other landed a particularly good blow, and soon Petar stepped in, taking on Valentin two against one, something that didn't seem to surprise Viktor one bit.

'Really? Oh this is just silly!' She huffed.

In the end it was a Jelly-Legs jinx from Ivo's wand that flattened Valentin and forced him to concede defeat. He lay spasming on the floor for a full five minutes before he was able to stand once more, and when he did, he simply thumped Ivo on the back and congratulated him on the win.

'You're up, firecracker,' Valentin announced as he collapsed onto the bench with a loud huff. 'I'll put ten galleons on Hermione blasting Ivo from here to Batak with just a flick of her wand,' He said cheerfully to the other teenagers.

'I'd rather not…'

'We're all of age here. The Ministry won't mind if you engage in a little wand play.'

'Defence Against the Dark Arts isn't my strong suit,' Hermione admitted quietly. This was Harry's domain. However, her inherent need to prove herself won out.

'But I guess… I can try.'

Valentin called the younger Dolmatov brother back to the stage and indicated his proposal with a hurried explanation in their mother-tongue. For a moment it seemed as though Ivo might decline, and then he bowed deeply to her and withdrew his wand from his trouser pocket.

'Good luck.' Viktor said kindly, but she could see the hint of anxiousness in his eyes. She wanted, needed, to prove herself — to him, to his friends, to herself.

'A sip for courage?' Valentin offered up his own tumbler of Rakija, and in an impulsive move, Hermione downed the last of it, struggling for breath as it scalded her oesophagus. If only Harry and Ron could see me now!

After a few short minutes she knew one thing for certain; Ivo was going easy on her. Unsure whether to be insulted or grateful, she rooted around in the recesses of her mind for the advanced offensive spells she, Harry and Ron had read about in preparation for the final task. So far her partner was deflecting her more basic spells as though she were new to magic.

'Ebublio!' She called out in a voice that brokered none of her real unease.

Valentin clapped enthusiastically as a burst of brilliant blue light erupted from Hermione's wand, encasing Ivo in a large, impenetrable bubble. She sensed his panic immediately, and recognised the signs of claustrophobia with a surge of guilt that had her cancelling the jinx before she'd had the chance to capitalise on her advantage.

'Flipendo!' Ivo's heavily-accented voice carried crystal clear through the air and before she knew it she was flat on her bum, staring up at the stars in the nighttime sky in a daze.

Impassive, Ivo loomed over her, his wand pointed at the patch of ground beside her head in what would've been the final blow — if it had been a real duel. Time seemed to stand still.

She still had hold of her wand. All it would take was the right spell, but what was it? Out of the corner of her eye could see Viktor extracting himself from the bench. His lips were moving, but she heard no sound. And then, clear as day, the answer. Play dirty; just as he had, for he wouldn't expect it of her. The moment Ivo removed his Protego, she shouted 'Petrificus Totalus!' And his rigid form fell to the ground with a thud.

In a matter of seconds she was being paraded around on Valentin's shoulders as Petar clapped and Viktor hurried to reverse the hex incapacitating his friend. He pulled her into a wordless embrace the moment her feet touched the ground once more, and she saw, in the depths of his dark eyes, a heat that rendered her speechless.

…

It was late by the time they returned to the Krum estate. Hermione's skin was warm to the touch, and her head felt like it was full of cotton wool. Her parents had allowed her the odd sniff of wine growing up — more to try it than anything else — but she'd never related to the Hogwarts students who had smuggled in Fire-whiskey from the kitchens or home-brewed giggle water from disreputable sellers in Hogsmeade.

They'd toasted to her success with some elvish wine, and that, combined with the Rakija, had left her with her first taste of tipsiness. Thankfully no one had been awaiting them when they tiptoed through the foyer, although Viktor had reassured her the elves would inform his parents they were home safe and sound. It had also meant that nothing held Viktor back from finishing what they'd started that morning at breakfast; his goodnight kiss left her dizzy and tempted to throw caution to the wind and invite him in.

It was fifteen minutes later that she heard tapping. This time Hermione headed straight for the balcony, and not the bedroom door. Although Viktor hadn't touched the alcohol, his cheeks were rosy and his hair dishevelled.

'I did not want to go to sleep.' Viktor said thickly.

'Me neither.'

In one swift movement Viktor gathered her up in his arms and kissed her hungrily. His hands wandered freely over the silky fabric of her pyjamas and slipped underneath to caress her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

'Will you stay with me tonight?' Hermione whispered.

'I can stay until you fall asleep, if you wish.'

That'd have to do. Snaking an arm around her waist, Viktor walked her backwards until her thighs hit the downy mattress and she fell backwards onto the sheets. There was the briefest moment where having his body trapped against hers made her panic, and then she was relaxing into his kiss and letting her fingers roam over his muscular back.

Her mouth formed a shocked O when she felt his arousal pressing against her belly button. She felt the absence of it when Viktor promptly peeled himself off her, dragging a hand over his face in an attempt to gather his control. I'm doing a pretty good job of tormenting him here, she thought guiltily.

Her top was askew from Viktor's eagerness, and as she straightened herself, he watched her with hooded eyes, his pupils so dilated they appeared to be black. Hermione slid under the sheets and patted the space behind her. The bed dipped as he crawled into position. The voice in her head remarked that it felt so right having her spine curled into the curve of his body.

'Hermione…' Viktor said uncertainly some minutes later. He sounded nothing like himself.

'Mhm?'

'Will you take your top off?'

Her breath caught in her throat. Last night she'd dropped her knickers for him, and now she was about to shed her top. Whilst the two events hadn't happened together she equated that as having been fully naked in his presence; the thought made her vision swim.

Digging deep for her Gryffindor bravery, Hermione sat up and let the straps of her pyjama top fall down her arms. Viktor watched her hungrily, and then mirroring her cross-legged position, skimmed his fingertips over the exposed slither of skin below her belly-button. Pushing upwards, he drew the fabric over her arms and head.

Viktor stuttered something in Bulgarian, and she concluded it was a curse.

'You are so beautiful,' He muttered, and it sounded like it had been meant for his own ears only.

His palms flattened over the bare flesh of her stomach. Hermione sucked in her breath and glanced down, entranced by the tender brushes of his thumbs over the curve of her breasts, the corners of his nails catching her nipples. Viktor's smoky eyes drifted over her torso freely, and she felt her heart rate quicken. He looked as though he was savouring every inch of her, committing it all to memory. And then he ducked his head, the wet heat of his mouth engulfing her right breast. Her entire chest spasmed and she let out a breathy moan.

His left hand pinched, caressed and cupped her other breast, preventing it from feeling neglected. He was in no hurry, and it felt as though he were worshipping her body — his actions were that of a lover starved of her, yet also someone who didn't want the moment ever to end.

'Please,' Hermione whimpered. The ache between her legs was growing, and she was very aware that his ministrations were causing an immediate effect down below. She wanted him to touch her.

Viktor did as she asked immediately. There was no hesitancy for the sake of tenderness this time — his fingers were searching underneath her pyjama shorts in an instant, and he slipped one finger, followed by another in quick succession, between her embarrassingly wet folds. She groaned in relief when his thumb found her quivering ball of nerves, but that was quickly replaced by impatient, sharp breaths as her body clamoured for its release. It came not a moment later in a wonderful wave of ecstasy, her hips twitching of their own volition as her fingers grappled with the sheets.

At length she opened her eyes. Viktor's face was contorted, and he almost looked in pain.

'Are you okay?' She asked in alarm.

Viktor nodded quickly. 'That was just very… hot. I love to see your face when you go over the edge.'

Hermione felt herself flush. 'Can I… return the favour?' She glanced down at his groin. The material there appeared to have shrunk, and it wasn't doing a very good job at containing him. To her surprise, Viktor shook his head, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

'I am not sure I can control myself,' He whispered in reply.

There had only been a handful of occasions when Viktor had admitted to losing control. Those walls didn't come down very often.

'What's wrong?'

He didn't reply for a full minute, and it seemed to take every ounce of his strength to admit, 'I really want you.'

'Then you can have me,' Hermione said, her brow creasing.

'No… Is different to before. I cannot stop thinking about being inside you,' His frankness startled her, but it didn't make her lose her nerve like it had done before. 'Maybe it is because our relationship is changing, we are trying more things…'

Hermione suddenly realised what he meant. She threw an arm over her chest, feeling responsible for his state. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea. Every time they inched closer, did more, she tested his control, offered him a taste, and yet he knew he couldn't go all the way. It must be torture.

'Stop,' Viktor muttered.

'What?'

'You are blaming yourself. I can see it in your face.'

'But maybe it is my fault. You're my boyfriend, I shouldn't be holding back and making you feel like this.'

'One, is not your fault at all. I haff a lot of adrenaline in my system from tonight, and I haff been turned on all evening —'

'You have?' She said shyly.

'You do yourself an injustice,' Viktor shook his head in bemusement. 'Firstly, it was the arguing with Valentin… so much passion. And then it was your duelling. You are so unlike any any other witch. I love your fire.'

'That's… Thank you, I think, but that's besides the point Viktor! I don't want to be the person making you feel like this,' She sighed, and added in a quiet voice. 'I want to be the person who makes you feel good.'

'You do. Hermione, you haff done nothing wrong. I do not want that anything I to makes you uncomfortable.'

They had come to an impasse. Not knowing what else to do, let alone what to say, Hermione clambered into his lap and hugged him hard.

'I am sorry,' Viktor said with a sigh.

'Now it's your turn to be told off,' Hermione teased. She brushed his fringe out of his face and kissed the tip of his nose. 'Let me make you feel better, please. I want to. Be honest with me, you promised, we promised.'

Viktor covered her mouth in what was an almost painfully slow kiss, and quite the contrast from his intensity not long ago. They didn't speak again for quite some time.

'Tonight I will let you choose,' Viktor whispered.

There was no debating to be done. 'My mouth?' She'd been wanting to try that again since the last time.

Viktor hips snapped upwards of their own accord, jostling Hermione in his lap. That was answer enough for her.

Scooting backwards, she gave him her best attempt at a sultry grin. His eyes were focused on her breasts, but she didn't mind. It made her feel desirable, more feminine. He brought out an awareness of her body that she'd suppressed since she'd noticed the first signs of puberty. With the lingering fire from her release still making her blissfully relaxed, there was no part of Hermione that worried as she set to working her way down his thighs with her mouth. She bit gently at the taut muscles of his stomach and ran her tongue over the scar that wound from his hip and down to the crease between his groin and his quad. His breathing grew hoarser, and she revelled in the power she held over him in that moment. Viktor shivered as her warm breath tickled over his crotch and his hips strained to initiate contact.

If she prepared herself, then Viktor would be able to lose himself as he wished; granted, not in the manner he had wanted, but she knew how much he desired her mouth too. As she hovered over him, Viktor trembled and shoved the front of his shorts down to release his erection. In the candle light she could see the vein that ran along the underside of his arousal, and the way it swelled under her scrutiny.

As Hermione's head ducked to kiss the leaking tip, his hand shot out and cupped her breasts, feeling them while she licked him from base to head. She found her rhythm quite quickly, and with the contact of his hands on her chest, was bolder in her pursuit of his pleasure. He grunted hoarsely whenever she brushed the tip of her tongue over the sensitive tip and all but shouted when she curled her fingers around the base and tried to coordinate her strokes with the suction of her lips. His grip on her tightened as she engulfed his length and sensed the moment his jerky motions became frantic and how the taste of him changed as he neared completion. A bitter saltiness now mixed with the musk of his skin. She chanced one last look at him through her lashes before his bucking devolved into writhing; in that moment he looked as though he worshipped her.

Returning her attention to what she was doing, Hermione lost herself in the feeling and sight of his hard length sliding in and out of her mouth, to the point where she almost missed the moment his thrashing stopped and his spine bowed. He climaxed powerfully and her mouth filled with warm liquid, bitter with a metallic twang, before spilling down her throat as she swallowed reflexively. It wasn't unpleasant.

Viktor's chest heaved as he fought to regain control of himself and his breathing. When he had calmed, he tugged her up and into his chest, cradling her tight against him. It was deeply intimate to have their naked torsos touching, and she could feel his softening length hot and spent against the sensitive skin of her thigh.

She was only faintly aware of Viktor mumbling goodnight before she was fast asleep.

I hope this was worth the wait, my dear readers! A an extra long chapter to make up for the delay.

As for the topic of fame, I feel like the books didn't really go into much depth. I know he was a secondary character, but he was built up so much as a 'big name' throughout the world cup that it didn't seem right to me that it wouldn't be a big challenge Hermione would have to face up to. Although she deals well with Harry's 'celebrity status', I feel she's a deeply private person and this would be a test for their relationship. Anyway, I'm sure this won't be the last of that little bump in the road for our favourite characters.

Let me know what you thought!