Looking through the window of an elaborate bedroom, one would see a young man, tossing and turning in a sleep not quite as restless as one would think when looking at the state of disarray the bed with which the man slept in. The blanket swept the floor, the sheet tangled around his muscled thighs and sweat glistening along his naked chest and along his forehead as it shook side to side in his sleep, despite the fact that it was the middle of winter and snow lay upon the land like a thick woollen blanket.

Upon closer inspection of the man himself one would be struck by the raw masculinity they gaze upon. Thick black hair slick with sweat, thick eyebrows and eyes with equally as thick eyelashes. Slightly crooked nose from being broken one too many times, high cheekbones, thin lips and a sharp jawline. Muscles neck leading to an equally muscled chest, strong arms with large, callused hands and thighs as thick as tree trunks.

In effect, this man was the perfect individual to fulfil any woman's' most primal needs, the ones that the 'good girls' bury deep inside and deny that those type of fantasies even exist within their mind. But unfortunately for all those women dying to see if those strong hands and arms would feel in the throes of passion, there was only one woman that would ever feel the power and strength beneath the skin of this living Adonis. And he was searching for her now, in his sleep. It was essential to his very survival that he find her, for without her, he would die of heartbreak.

Throughout the world a small part of this man was combing the world for the one. The woman, for surely that was what she was, that would call to his very soul with a song so sweet he would be able to taste it on his lips.

Every square inch of the globe was searched until a familiar soul called to him from within its home in London, as the woman slept peacefully in her bed, unaware of what awaited her once she re-entered the wizarding world.

As the two halves met the man, still asleep in his own home, felt a resounding wave of peace and familiarity wash over him as the woman's magical essence washed over his body, soothing both him and the beast that lurked within; filling his whole being with love so pure it would cause men to fall to their knees if the felt even an inch of what he was feeling.

As the sun began to shine over the horizon, causing brilliant streaks of gold, pink and white to brighten the sky, Viktor Krum's eyes began to open. The slow, deep inhale of breath showed the well-rested state he was in as his magical core resettled within his being.

A smile, rare as an eclipse, graced his lips as he stretched. Arms and wings the colour of the blackest of ink reached toward the ceiling as he sighed, his woman's name upon his lips.

"Hermione."