#somewhere to start

[elliemarchetti]

Somewhere to Start (part 11)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9 

Part 10

Words: 1135

"Do you think it's too early to visit Viktor?" asked Hermione as they scurried down the spiral staircase that led to the owlery. After what had happened, even if they had argued, she didn't feel like not going to make sure he was fine. Harry nodded, with the expression of someone who believes that something is obvious, so she forced herself to wait for History of Magic’s end, during which she didn’t take notes as usual but merely stared at the professor with empty eyes. When the bell finally rang, she ran down the corridors to the infirmary, from which Viktor was coming out, a tired expression on his face.

"Viktor!" she called him, making her way through the crowd of onlookers.

"Hermione." he replied almost wearily, glancing grimly at a group of first-year girls who turned away nervously. "Would you take a walk with me?"

His tone was hopeful, but there was nothing of the playful notes she was used to, a vein of cold courtesy to ruin the illusion that nothing had changed. Hermione didn’t reply but followed him through the corridors that he too had come to know by now, listening to him as he repeated the story for the umpteenth time, in the same flat tone she imagined he would’ve used during an interview with Rita Skeeter.

"But they found him, didn't they?" he asked in conclusion, finally letting slip a hint of the real Viktor, the same one who had spoken with her about S.P.E.W. and had forced her to go back to eating when she had decided to stop doing it. It broke Hermione’s heart when she had to answer negatively, certain that her reply would bring nothing but the grim Krum everyone knew.

"What if he Disappeared?" he suggested, but Hermione knew it was impossible, just as he couldn’t be invisible, or the Map, which Harry had left to Moody, would have exposed him. But he could’ve used magic in other ways and the abduction hypothesis remains open; basically the only thing they were certain of was that he wasn't at Hogwarts.

"You should try not to think about it and concentrate on the third task." suggested Hermione. "Dumbledore has warned the Ministry and they will be looking for him."

"How they did with that woman, Bertha?" he asked angrily, and not wrongly. If indeed the Ministry preferred to concentrate on the Triwizard Tournament than on finding his attacker he had all the rights to be both angry and scared, the main reason for that tantrum; people like Viktor weren’t used to being afraid, they didn’t know how to deal with it except in a violent and sometimes self-destructive way.

"I'll stay with you," she said, quickly. "I will help you practice and in the meantime we will be careful. Nothing will happen to you. Are you listening?” she asked, perhaps a little too loudly, standing in front of him to stop him since he had begun to accelerate his pace and she was struggling to keep up and talk at the same time. His eyes shone with an intense, vaguely wild light, and Hermione, breathless, realized that at that very moment, when both had abandoned all their defenses, they would have kissed for the first time. It didn't matter that anyone in the castle, on Dumstrang's ship or on Beauxbatons's carriage could see them, or that nothing was perfect. The only things that mattered were his lips and his hands that went down her arms to the pelvis, to draw her to him in a first kiss that Hermione, even if she wanted, could never forget.

 The morning of the third task the breakfast was very noisy: a number never seen of post owls gave postcards, notes and brief letters to the champions and Viktor even received a couple of gifts that he should’ve brought with him in the labyrinth. Hermione also continued to receive letters, and although most had to do with Rita Skeeter's articles, others came from small newspapers that wanted an interview to talk about him and their relationship. She ignored them all, saying that as long as they didn't have something to ask about her it wasn’t her that they should’ve asked questions and Viktor was grateful for her patience, although he had assured her several times that once the Tournament was over the whole situation would end too, or at least would’ve stabilized. That morning, however, something different happened, and immediately after she had given a quick read to the Daily Prophets, she ran away and before he could follow her Professor Karkaroff announced that the champions would all meet in the next room to greet the family, that in honor of the last task had gathered together. The other Hogwarts champion, the older one, was with his parents near the entrance, while on the other side of the room Fleur was chatting in French with her mother, who was holding her youngest daughter’s hand, while the girl greeted Potter, who had been joined by what could only be a part of the Weasley family, with the other. Viktor didn't have much to say to his parents that he hadn't already told them in letter, and the same was true for his brothers, but he told them anyway how he prepared for the task together with Hermione and that much of what Rita Skeeter had written about the girl were nonsense.

"But did she agree to come over this summer?" his mother asked. Probably she had already begun to rearrange the house and asked her husband to repaint and change the furniture, to give the impression that everything was more fashionable, unaware that these were certainly not the things Hermione was paying attention to. Viktor blushed at the mere thought to sleep in the same house: his brothers would never forgive him for being the first to bring a girl home but he was sure his friends were enthusiastic about the idea. Andrei couldn’t wait to introduce her to his sister: he claimed they had a lot in common and even Viktor thought they could get along, even though Hermione was older, and he was sure that if Darina hadn’t been too busy traveling and had visited them, she would’ve forced her to ho shopping for all the social events she would take her to.

"Why don't you lead us for a tour of this place you boasted so much?” his father asked, in that usual tone he couldn’t interpret. "Maybe for lunch you can introduce us to your girlfriend."

Viktor blushed again and his brothers began to nudge him and shove him, just as they used to do at home, not giving Viktor time to point out that, although they had kissed once, they had certainly still not talked about it.

[freshlistenupofmeyoholla]

Somewhere to Start

Part of Sterek ReverseBang 2017      

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Sterek

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 33k

AU / Tags: arranged marriage

Summary: Stiles has always known that he isn't quite human - the plant life that tends to sprout around him whenever he gets upset or excited gives it away. He's never really fit in among the regular people in Beacon Hills and is determined to wait it out, go to college, and find somewhere to belong. He's forced to abandon those plans, however, after he desperately agrees to enter into an arranged marriage to save his father's life.

[elliemarchetti]

Somewhere to Start (part 12)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 

Part 9 

Part 10 

Part 11

Other Harry Potter fics:

Slytherin!Hermione AU (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11)

The Deal (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Our First (Almost) Kiss | Our First Kiss

The Polaroids | The Sixth and Seventh Polaroids

Memories of a Survivor 

Words: 1053

The hottest day of the summer, at least until then, was drawing to a close and a sleepy silence weighed on the large square houses of the village. A couple of cars were parked, covered with a thin layer of dust,  in the driveway of the few Muggles who lived in the area and the meadows all around it, once emerald green, had taken on a yellowish color. Obviously Hermione didn't care: Viktor had spent a month showing her all the wonders of Bulgaria that had come to his mind and now they just wanted to enjoy the well-deserved rest before Hermione returned home, half hidden by a flowerbed to prevent one of the elderly neighbors from inviting them for tea again, despite the torrid heat. Although Ron’s grim news, whom she was sure hadn’t shared with Harry, Hermione had tried to raise her friend’s morale, who had been forced to stay at Privet Drive with his uncles, with photos and stories of everything she had discovered, but never asking him to join them, although Viktor would’ve no problem if he wanted to, if only for a couple of days. Dumbledore’s orders, and although she didn’t understand them and couldn’t tell Harry, she wanted to respect the headmaster’s will, even if every time he replied it was painful to know she can make his days better and wasn’t going to. It was late at night, well past dinner time, when another letter from her friend arrived. He said he was attacked by dementors and that he could’ve been expelled from Hogwarts, as well as demanding news of what was going on and when he could leave the house.

"You should tell him," said Viktor, who had taken more than she to read the letter obviously written in haste. “I don’t think someone can stand it any longer, not even him.”

 When Harry recognized him, he gave him a big, bewildered smile. Through Hermione's letters they had indirectly kept in touch and after the last one, and the consequent discovery of the plan that the members of the Order had devised to extract him from the house and take him to Grimmauld Place, where Hermione insisted on going as soon as the next news had arrived, Viktor had decided to actively participate, convinced that seeing an additional friendly face, as Hermione had explained to him that the rather young but tired and sickly looking man he had known a couple of days before was Remus Lupin, their third year Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and friend of Harry’s godfather and deceased parents, could only help.

"Are you sure it's him, Lupin?" muttered Moody. "It would be a great deal if we took away a Death Eater with his appearance. We should ask him something that only the real Potter can know. Unless someone has some Veritaserum..."

"What did I ask you the night I was attacked near the Forbidden Forest?" Viktor inquired, amazing everyone. He hadn't said a word since he volunteered.

"If there was anything between me and Hermione." Harry replied, and no one seemed particularly impressed because, who knew him, must have asked himself the same question but everyone had seen that it was Viktor who had brought Hermione to Grimmauld Place.

"It's him," confirmed Viktor, before approaching Harry to make sure he was really well and that his uncles had done him no harm that he hadn't had the courage to write in his letters to Hermione.

"I'm sorry I haven't been able to say anything so far but we’re your escort and we’re just waiting for the signal that will tell us that we can leave safely. We’ll fly, me and Mr. Lupin thought that since you’re good with your broom…” Viktor began, but Lupin interrupted him by asking him for the umpteenth time to call him only Remus as he claimed it made him feel old and that, after all, they were all equal there.

"Have you already packed your bags?" asked Tonks, a pale-hearted witch with shimmering dark eyes and short bristly hair of a particularly intense shade of purple. She was the youngest, after him. Viktor proposed to go to help him and followed him into the entrance and up the stairs, looking around with great curiosity and interest. It was a bizarre place, a little too clean, almost unnaturally, as if no one lived there and that was just a facade. In any other context he would’ve found it at least suspicious and Moody would’ve probably did a number in terror of finding something under the perfect appearance, but he knew from Harry’s letters and Hermione’s stories that here it was normal, therefore he didn’t ask questions that could embarrass Harry further, also because his room was decidedly much more chaotic, very similar to his home.

"I'm glad you and Hermione had a great time this summer," said Harry, who was quickly throwing books into his trunk, perhaps to break the silence. Viktor didn’t know what to answer, after all they weren't really friends, so he limited himself to helping him with a spell that caused books, clothes and telescope to be lifted mid-air and then fly where they needed to be, something his mother had taught him and had saved him a lot of time since he learned to juggle it. When they returned to the kitchen they found Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore studying the microwave, Hestia Jones laughing at a potato peeler she had found rummaging in the drawers and Remus sealing a letter, that he explained was addressed to Harry's uncles to warn them not to worry, that Harry was fine and they would see him again the following summer, with extreme displeasure of the person concerned. Then Moody casted a spell on Harry which turned him into a human chameleon, a far more complex thing than he and Hermione had used the previous year to go see the dragons, and explained to Harry how the journey would take place, continuing to remark that there was the possibility of dying on the way to Grimmauld Place. Viktor didn't want to die, but foolishly, he thought that if he had to, at least he wanted to have time to give Hermione the Christmas present he had taken her for the Yule Ball.

[elliemarchetti]

Somewhere to Start (part 9)

Words: 1687

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Other Harry Potter fics:

Slytherin!Hermione AU (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

The Deal (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

The Polaroids The Sixth and Seventh Polaroids

Memories of a Survivor 

On December 26th everyone woke up late. The Gryffindor’s Common Room was much quieter than it had been lately and frequent yawns punctuated lazy conversations. Hermione's hair was frizzy again and as if nothing had happened the previous night she and Ron had returned talking to each other, albeit in a strangely formal way. It was time to think about the homework everyone ignored during the first week of vacation, too busy preparing for the Ball, and the students seemed rather down while Harry was starting to get a little nervous again, and although he could hide it from Ron, it was another story with Hermione, who remembered that February 24th was fast approaching and he hadn’t yet done anything to decipher the riddle inside the golden egg. Not that it was the only problem: in fact, as soon as the lessons resumed, the Gryffindors had the bitter surprise of finding a substitute teaching Care of Magical Creatures and not their gigantic friend, that was indisposed, according to Professor Grubbly-Plank, his hateful substitute.

"I don't understand what Hagrid has." Hermione complained that day at lunch, when she was finally able to see Viktor again, who had been incredibly shy the previous week. "If he hadn't felt good he would’ve told us, wouldn't he?"

The boy agreed, obviously lost in his thoughts, and Hermione made a mental note to investigate further what was happening to him, only to be distracted, when she reached the Gryffindor table, by a copy of the Daily Prophet that went from hand to hand generating general discontent, where, on the front page, there was an article from Rita Skeeter entirely on Hagrid and how much the half-human was a favorite of Dumbledore despite being huge in appearance and having terrified students with a succession of hideous creatures. Hermione snatched the newspaper from Lavender's hands, which despite mumbling something, didn't have the heart to reply when the classmate crumpled it and threw away what she had called junk. It was what happened later to be blatant and to enter the annals of Hogwarts history, or certainly that of the feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin: Hermione marched straight to Malfoy's place and slapped him first and then Crabbe, below the everyone’s astonished gaze, including the professors.

"Granger!" Snape boomed, but Hermione didn't care. How could that worm lie that way? Hagrid was a good man, at times naive, of course she saw it too, but he had never wanted to hurt anyone, nor had he abused his power as a teacher; on the contrary, the opposite had happened and he had to endure Malfoy's harassment for two years, dreading that his father could take away with his influence the small space that, with Dumbledore's help, he had managed to carve out in the magical community that wanted so ardently to be perfect, to eliminate all those who could somehow be different and undesirable. If Rita Skeeter had to write an article about a despotic and aggressive professor, she should’ve done it on Snape.

"Detention. In my office, now. And apologize to my students."

“Never.” she hissed.

"Do you want to be in detention until the end of the school year?" he asked, rising from his seat and standing in front of the teachers' table.

"Is this what you teach your students, then? To lie to get what they want? To be mean? I deserve to be punished for hitting them while they? Don't they deserve it for lying?"

This was a huge affront to Snape’s authority, so much so that someone could have called it insubordination or lack of respect, but anyone who had seen the attitude that the teacher had held for four years against the most brilliant of the students in that school could understand why she was acting that way.

"And this is what you are taught in Gryffindor? To physically assault anyone who doesn’t agree with you?"

Probably the professor expected to put the girl, who was tremendously aware of all the students’ eyes fixed on her back and those of the entire teaching staff, in whose she read conflicting judgments, in the corner, but this didn’t happen, as Minerva McGonagall herself stood up to speak: "No, Severus, this isn’t what I teach my students so I advise you to return to your place. I will take care of Miss Granger, who will come to my office at the end of the lessons to decree what is the punishment that best fits her wrong gesture, myself. I advise you to discuss with your students, instead, about the weight their words." she finished dryly, and sat down again only when her colleague stormed out of the room, furious. Hermione sat back down in her place with her head down, but saw, out of the corner of her eye, that her housemates' attitude toward her had changed.

"You've been amazing." said Ron, vaguely breathless. Hermione smiled slightly. She feared McGonagall much more than any other professor and didn't want to disappoint her, which she probably did with that thoughtless gesture. She raised her head from the plate, that remained empty all the time, only in hope of meeting Viktor's gaze, but the boy was gone, and his place left empty.

 McGonagall's punishment was much less harsh than what Viktor would’ve imagined as she merely forbade Hermione from participating in the Hogsmeade trip organized for mid-January. Obviously Viktor also decided not to go and they spent the day together in the cold and wet from the freshly melted snow park.

"We could take a bath." he said, clutching his own cup of hot chocolate.

"A bath?" she asked, puzzled. Probably there were about 4o C.

"We do it often, in Durmstrang. Besides, I should practice a spell."

Hermione's attention snapped like a spring: "What spell?"

"Transfiguration." he replied vague, amused by the light in her eyes.

"I'm very good in that area! Tell me, what do you have to transfigure? I hope it's not something too big, because these are very difficult spells and I can't help you, and probably not even Professor McGonagall, even though she's the best in that field…”

"I don't think it's something I could talk to your teachers about." he interrupted her, without raising his voice too much. Although almost all the students from the third year onwards had gone to Hogsmeade, he didn't want to be heard while talking about the tournament with Hermione, partly to avoid problems, partly because he wasn't sure anyone could help him when it came to what needed to be done to win, especially if it belonged to another competing school. Or any other school, actually.

"Oh ... You probably shouldn't even talk to me about it then." she replied, disappointed.

"I know, that's why I asked you to take a bath." he replied with a half-smile. It was horrible not being able to share everything with her, not to mention the fact that he still hadn't been able to give her his Christmas present, but maybe it was too late and besides she didn't seem to have been offended for not having received one, even if even Neville had bought one for Ginny, who showed it off with some pride. The girl was probably too good for him, and he was certain that she was destined for great things, especially after he had seen her in the middle of the night training with one of Hogwarts' brooms, the worst he had seen in a long time, and do prodigies anyway, but for the moment they were cute, although Hermione claimed that there was nothing between them.

"She would’ve told me, don't you think?" she had asked him, rather annoyed, one day, and he had dropped the subject, even if it was obvious that Ginny would surely not have told someone that she has settled with Neville after her obvious crush on Potter. Regarding him, and his friend, a kind of peace seemed to have been established between them and Hermione but Viktor still couldn't trust them, especially because he couldn't just forget how Weasley had attacked her on Yule Ball night, ruining, at least in part, his romantic projects. Since that night he had no longer thought of declaring his love, let alone trying to kiss her, even though there were days where he really didn't know how he managed to restrain himself, partly because he felt too embarrassed, partly because he had a crazy fear of losing her if she hadn’t returned his feelings, so he had contented himself with being something more than a friend and something less than a boyfriend, locked in that strange limbo that was like a bubble of happiness that by now no one, not even his friends, could conceive.

"How long do you think you can wait?" Andrei had asked him one morning during their usual run on the lake, and Viktor hadn't stopped thinking about it since then. How long could he wait? Forever, if things stayed that way. But it wouldn't happen, and he would be back in Bulgaria in a few months, and she would be more than two thousand kilometers away, with a life and habits that he didn't want her to put aside or distort every time he went to visit. Yet, on the other hand, he wouldn’t have let what was between them, whatever it was, merely be a nice memory, so he kept waiting and watched the two parts of his heart that fought against each other. Was it okay to act selfish? Or should he have been a gentleman and let her make her decision without intrusion? Darina had reminded him, when the topic came out again during the long nights on the ship, that Hermione, brilliant as she was, was still a normal girl, and a younger one, moreover, so it was up to him to make the first step, whatever he wanted to do.

"But isn't it too cold?" Hermione asked, snatching him from her thoughts.

"There are spells to solve this problem too." he replied as a wide smile opened on both their faces.

[elliemarchetti]

Somewhere to Start (part 10)

Quite sad but it needed to be done

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Other Harry Potter fics:

Slytherin!Hermione AU (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

The Deal (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

The Polaroids The Sixth and Seventh Polaroids

Memories of a Survivor

Words: 1486

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were in front of the potion class along with Pansy and her Slytherin girls gang, all intent on looking at something that Hermione couldn't see, giggling like mischievous children.

"Here they are!" exclaimed Pansy, who held a copy of the Witch Weekly, “Read this Granger, maybe you’ll find something interesting!" she exclaimed, tossing the paper at her, before entering the classroom with her housemates. Hermione catch the newspaper and perplexed she took place with her friends at a table at the back of the room.

"What did she meant?" asked Ron, equally puzzled, and as soon as Snape turned his back to write down the ingredients of the potion on the blackboard, Hermione quickly flipped through the magazine under the desk until, in the middle section, they found what they were looking for: a photo of Harry opened a brief report signed by Rita Skeeter about his supposed love affairs in which not only his sad story was told for the umpteenth time,  although he had repeatedly underlined the fact that he didn’t like the fact that his parents' image and their sacrifice were being exploited, but wherein the woman made Hermione look like a social climber who played with both Harry and Viktor’s feelings. If she couldn't care less about that part, she was far more perplexed about Skeeter knowing that Viktor had invited her to spend the summer with him in Bulgaria and that she had mentioned precisely how the boy had told her he felt for her after the second task. Viktor couldn't have released an interview on such a sensitive topic, moreover with Rita Skeeter, right? Not that she was able to focus particularly on the issue, since Snape noticed the presence of the newspaper and snatched it from her lap, beginning to read it aloud to the whole class, with blatant pauses to allow his students to laugh, making it sound ten times more disgusting.

"Really moving," he concluded, with a sneering smile, rolling up the magazine, while the Slytherins continued to laugh. "I think it's better to separate you, so you can concentrate on your potions instead on your complicated love life. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger over there, next to Miss Parkinson. Potter, that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."

Furious, Hermione threw her ingredients and bag into the cauldron and dragged it to the vacant seat next to Pansy.

"All these attentions seem to have gone to your head," Pansy said softly, when the rest of her friends got back to work. Hermione didn't argue: she knew she was just trying to provoke her in a desperate attempt to make Gryffindor lose more than twenty points but it wouldn't work, so while the girl kept talking so softly that no one else could hear her, Hermione continued to pound her beetles, then pour them into the cauldron, and finally went on to slice the ginger roots. As a child she had never considered herself a violent person, but having a knife in her hand so close to Pansy that whispered in her ear all the wickedness that her petty little mind could conceive tempted her a lot.

"So I warn you, Granger," the girl went on, unaware of what her victim was fantasizing about "famous or not, if I catch you just looking at Draco in a way that I don’t like..."

Hermione had to restrain herself from laughing at her: "I would never approach your precious boyfriend, Parkinson, even if he was the last man on earth. Indeed, if I can be honest, I am happy for you: you’re perfect for each other.”

Those seemingly nice words displaced the Slytherin, who had no time to think of other bad things to say to her as someone knocked on the cellar door.

"Come in." Snape said in his usual voice, and the whole class turned to look as the door opened and a rather nervous Professor Karkaroff entered. Hermione was too far away to be able to hear the exchange between the two, but she gave Harry, who was right in front of the desk, a meaningful look. It was better for him to quote her every word if he didn't want to be forced to face someone of a much more vengeful nature than Rita Skeeter.

 "We need to talk," Viktor said, sneaking closer to Hermione, barely opening his lips, determined not to be heard by anyone. The shop was semi-empty, but given what happened, he rather be safe than sorry, although, according to Andrei, he was starting to be paranoid. The girl winced, but, once she informed her friends, followed him quite sadly, probably aware that sooner or later that moment would come. She had managed to avoid him for a whole day, but once the weekend came she would’ve no excuses to escape, especially during a trip ad Hogsmeade.

"What's so urgent?" she asked, once they had left Gladrags Wizardwear, a store selling hideous socks, where they were buying a gift for a house elf. Viktor looked around to make sure they were alone: ​​although the air had warmed up and there was a trip going on, the road was deserted, which allowed him to speak without having to walk further away.

"I didn't release that interview. I don't know who heard it, even if I have a couple of suspects, or why they went to bring it back to Skeeter, but it wasn't me." he said in one breath, but judging by the absence of reactions in the girl, she must’ve known already. So why was she avoiding him? The answer came a little later, in the form of a question.

"Did you know Karkaroff was a Death Eater?"

Viktor was puzzled for a few seconds, wondering what this might have to do with her avoiding him, but realized how much it could alert her by remembering her blood status.

"Everyone knows this even if many don't like to talk about it." he replied, trying not to sound too annoyed. It wasn’t his fault that she wasn’t aware of it and after all he didn’t share his principal’s ideals, which seemed to him to have shown her at every opportunity.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she asked, making Viktor even more nervous because he couldn't understand why he should’ve done it and especially when.

"I didn't think it was important." he replied, realizing a second too late the implications of his sentence.

"So you don't care about what those like me had to face? Just because you're not a Muggleborn doesn't mean you don't have to be interested in it. I can't even believe I shared a table with him, I even talked to him! How many of your friends are willing to turn a blind eye on the thing?" she snapped, and Viktor didn't even know how to stop her from rambling no sense, too exhausted to entertain that conversation. Why, despite continuing to show her that he had no intention of hurting her, that he cared more about her than anyone else in the world, she continued to question his feelings and his attitude? So he took her by the shoulders, and she stopped abruptly, raising her face to look at him. Her eyes were hard, an expression that Viktor would never have wanted to see turned towards him, but he was tired of always having to give the best, of having to be constantly under scrutiny, when all he wanted was to be able to make what they had work, though, by now, he began to doubt if there was really something, partly also because of the girl ignoring his statement after the second task. How could she not understand how he felt underwater, when he had seen her asleep and tied up, when he had, at least in part, feared losing her?

"I don't know what idea you have of this whole story, but it seems to me I have shown you that I want the best for you and I support you in all your battles. I came here to apologize, but all I receive are accusations rather heavy about my morality and I'm sick of your constant questioning how much I care about you when I constantly show you. I can't do better than that and I don't even know if you really want me to do it. If this is your, rather indelicate, way to keep your distance and put me back in my place, have the courage to tell me clearly so that I can go on. I don't expect an answer now, but as long as you're not ready to trust me, please don't mess with me because it's painful.” he said, before letting her go and turning his back on her, certain that if he stopped a little longer, he wouldn’t be able to keep his word.

[elliemarchetti]

Somewhere to Start (part 7)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Other Harry Potter fics:

Slytherin!Hermione AU (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

The Deal (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

The Polaroids The Sixth and Seventh Polaroids

Hermione forced herself to leave the blanket fort she and Viktor had created around five p.m. to reach Ginny in the Common Room. Together they entered Angelina and Alicia's room, which the two girls had worked to transform into what seemed to be the backstage of a fashion show: they had joined the beds, creating a queen size where they had already carefully laid out their clothes, one a purple velvet dress with a sweetheart neckline and the other a shiny black suit from which a lace shirt with a collar full of ruffles would appear, making sure to leave enough space for those of her friends. The two bedside tables had become two make-up and hair stations thanks to the brilliant idea of ​​putting two large mirrors on it, while the wardrobe had been left open, thus allowing the girls to also have two full-surface mirrors to contemplate the final result.

"Let's start with the important things!" exclaimed Angelina, extracting from her trunk the Muggle camera Hermione gave her for her birthday. "Let's take a picture of the before and one of the after, what do you say?" and as soon as they were finished, they immediately started to smear themselves with vanilla cream, kindly offered by Ginny, that made their skin smooth and velvety, then they moved on to the nails, filing and polishing them. Alicia lost a lot of time removing her cuticles while Angelina, who would wear silver stiletto heel sandals, put on a neutral enamel shade on her toenails. Hermione was stunned by how long it took to be at her best, as the note Mrs. Weasley had attached to the dress she had sent to her daughter said. It was obvious that it wasn’t new but Hermione just couldn't imagine who it belonged to; it was hard to imagine that the same woman who made those horrible wool sweaters had the ability to make something so delicate, so she guessed she had just bought it used. They helped each other to style their hair but it was evident that the more skilled was Angelina: she explained how her mother had taught her to braid since she was a child and how much fun her family's formal events were as all women sported increasingly complicated hairstyles. When the moment of makeup arrived, Hermione decided not to overdo: she wasn't used to putting on make-up and she didn't even know how to do it well, so she just put some concealer here and there where it seemed that her skin was duller and giving a slight coat of mascara only on the upper lashes. She was pleased with the result and also liked Ginny’s, who had opted for a beautiful light pink lipstick that matched well with red hair. Careful not to smudge anything and with each other’s help they put on their clothes:  Hermione’s perfectly drew her straight shoulders staying tight till the waist and then opening up in a floor-length skirt that made her feel like a princess. Finally, they put on their shoes and Hermione regretted a bit her decision to choose heels: although they were low, Alicia would certainly have been more at ease with her highly polished pointed flats.

"You're beautiful ..." Ginny whispered, almost breathless, to Angelina and she couldn't blame her. She and Fred would steal the show from the champions, she was sure, but she didn't mind. They got a little late and Hermione could barely talk to Viktor before Professor McGonagall called them. She greeted Harry and Parvati and tried to ignore her unflattering look, exactly like those of Viktor's fan club, Pansy Parkinson and Malfoy, although the thing that hurt her the most was Ron's indifference. Once everyone had settled in the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall ordered to the champions and their companions to line up in pairs and follow her. They obeyed, and everyone in the room applauded as they made their entrance and advanced towards a large round table from the other end of the Hall, where the judges had taken their seats. Hermione felt tense about the idea of ​​having dinner with Igor Karkaroff, renowned for her aversion to the Muggleborns, but tried not to think about it, enjoying the walls covered with sparkling silver frost and the hundreds of garlands made of ivy and mistletoe that they crossed through the black starlit ceiling. She wondered if Viktor knew of the Muggle custom of kissing under the mistletoe and found herself no longer so afraid of reaching that kind of intimacy with him, perhaps even wishing he tried to do it that night. She realized only when they were almost arrived that Houses’ tables had disappeared and in their place there were a hundred of them, obviously smaller, able to accommodate a dozen people, all lit by lanterns. As they took their places Hermione tried not to stumble and smiled, just like Viktor did, although it was evident that his attitude was also a construct; probably they would’ve been able to enjoy the evening only after the first mandatory dance, when they would no longer be in the spotlight, with everyone's eyes on them. Finally Ron had dropped the façade and although he was looking at her with eyes reduced to slits, ignoring the poor girl who had gone with him, at least he had a reaction since he hadn't spoken to her since Viktor had invited her. Dumbledore smiled at her cheerfully, while Karkaroff wore an expression very similar to Ron's as he watched her and Viktor mutter softly. Ludo Bagman, who for the occasion wore a purple robe lit with large yellow stars, clapped his hands enthusiastically but his attentions were all turned to Harry, like those of Madame Maxime, who had abandoned the usual black satin uniform replacing it with a dress with a wide lavender silk skirt, were all for her pupil. Suddenly, Hermione noticed Mr. Crouch’s absence and that his place was occupied instead by Percy Weasley, who had recently been promoted to his personal assistant, according to Ginny, and never stopped bragging about it, which he evidently started to do immediately also with Harry, who had taken a seat next to him. Together with Viktor they studied the menus that offered three appetizers, six main dishes, three side dishes and three dessert  to satisfy all the guests. As soon as Dumbledore ordered, asking for pork chops to his plate, everyone else did the same. Hermione felt particularly observed but tried to ignore it while ordering the escargot à la Bourguignonne and, once she reached the half of the plate she exchanged them for Viktor's Kyopolou, a dish that made him start to talk about Durmstrang.

"In short, Viktor" said Karkaroff, “you’re telling to your charming friend how to find us.”

Dumbledore smiled, a twinkle in his eyes, and replied in Hermione's place, saving her from the embarrassing conversation and allowing her to enjoy the mutton soup in peace, though she could hardly bear Fleur’s voice, who criticized Hogwarts' decorations with her date.

"Little things," he said briskly, looking at the glittering walls. "At Beauxbatons we have ice sculptures all around the dining room. They don’t melt, of course, they are like big diamond statues that shine. And the food is simply superb."

Hermione tried to refrain herself from replying that if instead of ordering the omlettes, something in England was eaten for breakfast, she had taken the meatballs she would understand what it meant to really eat. When all the food was consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to imitate him. Then, with a flick of the wand, the tables shot away and spread along the walls, leaving the floor uncluttered, where, along the right wall, an elevated platform appeared with a complete drum set, several guitars, a lute , a cello and some bagpipes. The Weird Sisters climbed onto the stage greeted by enthusiastic applause; they were all exceptionally shaggy and dressed in long black dresses that had been carefully torn. They took the instruments and Hermione, who was so busy looking at them that she had almost forgot what was about to happen, suddenly realized that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone.

"Are you ready?" Viktor asked Hermione, as if they had an alternative. If she had pulled back right now she would’ve made a fool of herself and Professor McGonagall would’ve never forgiven her and she would’ve done anything not to disappoint the woman. Besides, she didn't want to run away anymore: everyone had to see that she and Viktor were happy and incredibly absorbed in each other.

"Absolutely.”

[elliemarchetti]

Somewhere to Start (part 2)

Although the previous chapter was almost ignored, I still want to post the next part, because after the two chapters of my Red Queen fics, which all were but cheerful, I need a little lightheartedness.

Masterlist

Words: 1318

Despite what the article Andrei shown him said, Viktor continued to spend most of his free time in the library; it was the only time Hermione remained alone, though she never raised her eyes from the tomes she consulted. No Potter, no red-haired boy, yet Viktor couldn’t get close to talk to her. Perhaps it was the curious’ fault: giggling and sighing girls who were watching from behind the shelves appeared every time he thought he had found the courage necessary, irritating Hermione and making him even more nervous. The girl's annoyance was evident in every gesture and expression she made, and Viktor feared that in the end she would begin to hate the cause of all that noise too, which was him. One day, while Potter also tried to hide in the library, Hermione seemed so angry and looked at him so grimly that Viktor feared he had misunderstood the kindness with which she had treated him in the infirmary. He changed his mind the Friday before the first trial, when she approached him in the library, despite the large number of girls who had pursued him, holding a notebook. In the beginning, she wasn’t particularly polite, and Viktor was almost certain that she was using him for his popularity, but when he began to actually become interested in house elves’ rights, Hermione also seemed to soften.

"Will you really talk about it with your schoolmates?" Hermione asked, before leaving. Viktor nodded; if he had told Andrei why he was doing it, surely he would’ve joined, and the same was true for Poliakoff, if he had promised that he would’ve spent a good word for him with Karkaroff. Even Darina would’ve surely accepted: she loved to fight for the oppresseds’ rights  and had organized a signature collection to open Durmstrang also to the Muggleborn. On the other hand, he couldn’t put his hand on the fire for the others. But three was better than none, and he was sure Hermione would appreciate his gesture.

On Saturday before the first task, all students from the third year on had the permission to go on a trip to Hogsmeade. Hermione told Harry that it would’ve do him good to get away from the castle for a while, but she was actually just terrified of meeting Krum. How was she supposed to behave after that morning three of his schoolmates had asked for her and joined her association? A simple thank you wouldn’t have been enough.

Harry, fortunately, was easy to convince, but he immediately asked about Ron.

“Don’t you want to go with him?" he asked, making her blush. The previous year Hermione hadn’t really made a secret of her crush on him, but things had changed a little since the Durmstrang ship’s arrival.

"We could meet there." she answered, vague. She didn’t want to admit that she hadn’t thought, at least for twenty-four hours, about the quarrel between her two best friends.

"No," Harry said dryly, leading her to wonder what was wrong with the boys. Was it so hard to apologize? Why did they persist in behaving like children who were acting up? It was such a stupid thing... She certainly didn’t mean to act like their mother, but it bothered her anyway. In part, she regretted her decision: perhaps, if she had gone to the library as usual, she would’ve done her Honeydukes tour with Krum and not with Harry hidden under the invisibility cloak.

The Three Broomsticks was a tremendous place, small and crowded, but Viktor's mood changed radically when he saw Hermione lined up at the counter, desperately trying to be noticed by the innkeeper. He broke away from his group of friends and approached her, flaunting a security that he didn’t really have: anyway, he was taller by at least four inches and had a face so well known that the innkeeper immediately noticed him.

“Two Butterbeers.” he said, and smiled at her when she raised her head to look at him. She looked embarrassed and Viktor didn’t understand why: they talked so long, the day before...

"I think I have to thank you." she said, but Viktor's only reply was a confused look.

"This morning, three of your friends joined S.P.E.W." she added. With a smile partly satisfied and partly proud, he turned to Andrei and the others, who were staring at him without restraint. Darina greeted him shaking her hand and Poliakoff showed him the thumbs up, winking at him and snatching both him and Hermione an embarrassed laugh.

"They are my biggest supporters." Viktor explained, trying to ignore the heat that he felt expanding from his ears to his cheeks. He wasn’t used to talking about his private life: everyone wanted to know about the athlete, but even without asking, Hermione had immediately looked at the boy and not the character.

The two beers arrived and Viktor handed one to Hermione, who thanked him with a smile and insisted on repaying it until they arrived at a secluded, miraculously empty table. They passed by her red-haired friend, who sat with two identical boys who looked like him in a disquieting way and another dark-skinned student who seemed to faint when he passed by. Viktor looked away uneasily, but he noticed that only the twins greeted Hermione.

"Did you and your friend had a fight?" he asked, when they finally sat down. Evidently uncomfortable, Hermione avoided the question, urging him to sit next to her.

"It's so full that I cannot even hear what you're saying." she added, immediately afterwards, a slight blush that made its way to her cheeks. Viktor tried to hold back a smile and did as he was told.

"You were saying?" she asked, moving away slightly with her chair, but still holding her arms on the table. Even Viktor did the same, hoping to put her more at ease.

"I asked how it’s going with S.P.E.W." he lied. If she didn’t want to talk to him about her friend, he would respect her limits. So Hermione began to tell, asking for advice, exposing the possible proposals to which she had thought. He liked the way her eyes lit up when she deeply cared about the subject. He was about to tell her that he would willingly help her create the leaflets to hang in the village when a half-giant approached them and greeted Hermione in a thundering voice. He was with Alastor Moody and it made Viktor very uncomfortable. Fortunately, they didn’t entertain themselves for long.

He took Hermione back to the castle just before dinner. They greeted each other at the entrance to the Common Room, yet it was evident that neither was ready to declare ended that afternoon.

"Today, at Three Broomsticks, I heard you when you asked about me and Ron." she admitted.

"You don’t have to tell me anything, if you don’t want to." he reassured her, but Hermione shook her head.

"There's not much to say, he and Harry had a fight and they’re a little tense with me too."

Viktor's tongue knotted in embarrassment. What was right to say, in such situations?

"I'm sure everything will settle in. Before the names were extracted, you seemed very united."

A flash of perplexity crossed Hermione's eyes and Viktor wanted to tear off his tongue; he had looked like a stalker. Hermione, however, asked him if they would see each other in the library, after dinner, and it reassured him a little. They said goodbye again, then Hermione turned away from him, spoke the password in a whisper, and entered, leaving him alone to meditate about the hours they had spent together.

"With Krum?! Really?!" exclaimed Potter, beyond the wall. The idea of the interrogation that awaited her tore Viktor a smile that lasted all the way to the ship, where Andrei and the others were waiting for their dose of questions.