A Year Abroad (Hermione/Viktor)

Memories

Hermione wanted to stay, to wait for him. But she knew that she should not. What she had done was careless and reckless. But, it had felt so right, so natural. He did not push her away, nor did he grimace once it was over. He looked up at her in a way a man had never looked at her before. She felt hot thinking about it, but a sadness came over her when she remembered that he would not recall the kiss, would not recall the day whatsoever. It saddened her, but she knew she had experienced his kiss and that it would come with no consequences. So, she returned to her room and slept, hoping that she might also forget the day.

Viktor awoke in the infirmary. He could not remember how he got there or what had happened, only a kind of grey haze surrounding his memory. He was alone, which seemed strange to him. If he were in some kind of trouble, he would hope that someone would have been there to support him. But, alas, he was alone.

He looked around, to see if he could find any clues as to what had happened to the small blank spot in his memory. He saw and read the note, but this brought more confusion to the situation rather than less. He was sure that the pensive had been on loan for years now, so his opportunity to use it was slim to none. But, his note seemed persistent and Viktor could not resist uncovering the knowledge of what happened in the day that had passed.

Hermione did not see Viktor the next day, and she worried about him. When they had begun wiping people at Hogwarts, people had been known to become delusional and unwell for a while. Nobody spoke about him, or where he was and Hermione wondered then how much people actually cared about him, and this thought depressed her deeply.

Viktor had rested, then gone to Chigvintsev. Viktor knew that he would help.
"The pensive has been on loan for years. But, there is one at Hogwarts if it is really that important." Chigvintsev offered.
"It is. When can I go?" He asked and Chigvintsev became both curious and worried about the urgency of Viktor's request.
"You may go tomorrow, once I have written a letter to Professor Dumbledore." He informed Viktor. He thanked the Headmaster and waited patiently for the day to come when he could fill in the blank spot in his mind.

Hermione saw him walking through the halls, to quidditch practice. However, he didn't stop. He carried on, head down. She should have been there, he thought. If he was honestly so hurt that he had ended up in the infirmary, she should have been there. He had dismissed everyone's views of her, their prejudices and their gossip, to reach out to her, to care for her. If it had been she who had been harmed, he would have been there, sat with her for hours, until she was better. But she had not and he had awoken alone.

Dumbledore couldn't conceive what Viktor Krum would want with his Pensive. However, he was a fine young wizard, and Dumbledore's resources were always available for those in need of them. So, he waited for the young Bulgarian wizard to arrive.

Viktor was nervous, more so than he had been before in his life. Albus Dumbledore was the finest wizard he had ever heard of and having the chance to meet him seemed too great to pass up.

Hogwarts was so different to Durmstrang. It was old and grand, like Durmstrang, but it was warm in a way he knew his home could never be. He understood now, why Hermione missed it so much.

Dumbledore was stood waiting for him when he arrived. He was stood, with open arms and a grand smile on his reconstructed face. Viktor felt in awe of the great wizard before he met him, but now, in his presence, he felt incredibly comfortable. Students stared as they walked through the school. The students seemed small and shy in comparison to his Durmstrang kin.

Dumbledore stood in front of the pensive. Whatever Viktor was here to seek out, it must have been serious, because the boy had a face harder than stone.
"Do you know how to use it?" He asked and Viktor nodded. Dumbledore then took his leave.

Viktor had used a pensive once before, to preserve the memory of a fantastic match he had played. But, that time he had not felt afraid. Viktor was not easily scared, but the unknown that was contained in that vile, it terrified him. What could possibly be his fondest memory?

He stood for a moment, preparing himself for what he might see. But, before he could think himself into his head, he dove in, immersing himself in the memory.

There she stood, Hermione, next to his bed. He looked awful, sicker than he had ever seen himself look before. He felt a yearning as Hermione stood to leave and his breath caught when he grabbed her hand. Her fingers on his cheek, he felt her there. Then, he saw and he realised: the kiss. She had kissed him, knowing that he would not remember. The wiping had been the perfect cover, but she had kissed him.

Viktor lifted his head and staggered for a moment. The memory seemed so fresh, so clear, as if he were living it in real time. Her lips were there, on his. He felt them. Her eyes, fluttering open so softly were there, in front of his eyes. The sweet smell of her hair wafted around his face and he felt angry with himself. He had ignored her and resented her for not being with him, when in fact, she had been there in the most intimate way for him.

He did not see Dumbledore as he left. But Viktor knew that now, everything had changed.