Harry wanted to argue back under Mr Weasley's anger, but he knew how childish it would sound to protest that he hadn't understood.

"I'm very disappointed in both of you. You're of age and responsible for your own actions and, even if you weren't, I couldn't punish Harry. However, if you want to continue to be welcome in our home you will apologise and you'll have a good long think about whether you'd have done what you did if that boy had gone to Hogwarts... and what that says about you."

"We told Hermione—"

"Tell Viktor Krum," Arthur insisted.

---

"I'd have done it to a Slytherin," Ron mumbled about the unfairness of his father's ruling.

"Krum wouldn't have been Slytherin," Harry replied.

"Sure he would."

"D'you normally buy souvenirs of guys who belong in the snake pit?"

"That was before..."

"Hermione. Exactly."

"You don't get to be famous at eighteen without scheming and back-stabbing."

"Thanks a bunch!"

"That's different. You don't go looking for it."

"And Krum looks so happy in all those photos?" Harry asked.

"He looks a miserable git, if you ask me."

"Because he's happier on a broom or in a library. Your dad was right."

---

"I can't Apparate to somewhere I've never seen," Ron admitted with an embarrassed scowl.

"Well, we've tried headquarters, Grimmauld Place, Three Broomsticks, Hagrid's, McGonagall and The Leaky. The only place left is her parents'."

Ron kicked with unnecessary violence at a drinks can that had escaped a nearby rubbish bin. "She won't be there. She's with him. She's been with him all day."

"Ron, that's what boyfriends and girlfriends do."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No, but you went and rubbed her nose in it with Lavender, and now you can't expect her to treat you any differently."

---

"She can't go out with Krum. We're supposed to be in hiding," Ron argued determinedly.

"If we can't find her," Harry answered, "I don't think Voldemort will."

"You-Know-Who probably already has Vicky's new address."

"If I know Krum half as well as I think, the only people who know his address are him, Hermione and whoever he bought it from," Harry speculated.

"It's not right," Ron protested. "She should have told us where she was going."

"Maybe if we'd been acting like her friends rather than her keepers, she would have," Harry sighed. "We best spend the night at headquarters."

---

Hermione addressed the letter and gave it to Lyulya, Viktor's owl. Viktor carried the bird to the back door and launched her into the air like the hunting bird she was.

"You are thinking she vill say yes?" Viktor asked.

"I'm almost certain... unless she's a Montrose supporter."

Viktor's scowl returned, until he noticed the teasing glint in Hermione's eyes.

"Minerva loves teaching. She misses it. She'll jump at the chance to be your Transfiguration advisor, even if it means you'll have to translate everything you've done on your thesis so far. Defence is going to be a lot trickier."

---

Hermione knew who she wanted to ask and she was certain that she could persuade him to agree. Unfortunately, if Viktor wasn't convinced of Severus's loyalty, it could quite literally prove fatal.

Remus was an obvious choice, but his duties meant he was often out of communication for weeks on end.

That left one candidate, someone who would certainly regard anyone from Durmstrang with the utmost suspicion. Hermione had no rapport with the man that she could use to sway him, and she had never even seen him teach.

She passed Viktor his jacket. "We need to see Ron's dad."

---

Viktor replaced his jacket on the hook by the door. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I vill go. Today is for us."

"But the sooner we get Mr Weasley to talk to Professor Moody..."

"Moody?" Viktor muttered something under his breath.

"He's the only option, and he's a friend of Mr Weasley. If anyone can convince Moody to do it, it's him," Hermione wheedled.

"He hates me," Viktor stated flatly.

"Fake Moody might hate you. Real Moody will be suspicious... until he knows you," she added, not sounding hopeful.

Viktor pressed her back into her seat at the kitchen table. "Dinner," he suggested.

---

Hermione tried but couldn't quite stifle her yawn. It was only nine, but thanks to the Time-Turner it felt more like midnight.

"Vould you like me to see you home?" Viktor asked.

"You couldn't. Headquarters is kept under a Fidelius Charm," she explained. "Even if I wanted to go."

"You vant to stay?" Viktor asked.

Hermione let her gaze wander over him; his dark expressive eyes, his long-fingered hands, the nervous, stomach-melting almost-smile, the hard, angular planes of his body.

"I want to stay."

"For me?" Viktor asked. "Not because you are angry vith your friends?"

Hermione nodded. "For you."

---

It wasn't a lie, Hermione realised as he led her upstairs. A psychologist would call it transference. Hermione knew that... but it didn't matter.

What mattered was that, in understanding Severus, she could understand Viktor. In loving Severus, she already loved those commonalities that both men shared. He should have almost been a stranger, but she knew those expressions, those gestures.

The war had taken away her childhood. She wouldn't let it take everything. If this was her best chance at happiness, she would grab it.

In Viktor's love for her, she had the freedom to allow herself to fall.

---

He had no need to go into the magical part of the city, no need other than a morbid curiosity to know why she hadn't returned to him.

He slid behind a table littered with empty glasses and picked up the abandoned copy of The Evening Prophet before the barman could tidy it away.

They made the front page. The photographer had caught Krum in the instant he saw her. Severus watched the Seeker's whole demeanour change, over and over.

It was better this way. Far, far better. Krum would never break her heart by ending his days in Azkaban.