CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I THOUGHT I KNEW CERTAINTY BEFORE THIS. Now I realize that it was a much denser thing, carved in iron and stone. It weighed so heavy—perhaps a feat to make one realize that it was real. Not just a feeling, but a thing that existed, took up space, a thing that crashed on consciences and made those standing cower under the sheer force of it.

I had never known certainty like this before. It was a wild animal's fury, etched with a human's stubborn determination. At present, it was in my vision—mightier than I had ever known it.

"They want the entire deathly hallows," Bridgette paced about our dorm, her tone marred with consideration, as Elias Dupont and Gabriel Chevrolet watched her release perhaps an ounce of their own pent up frustration. "Nous devons croire en la meilleure possibilité. This means they are really thinking of defending their schools and students right? So is Albus Dumbledore—with his sudden decision to take some of his students and return to Hogwarts."

But of course, Bridgette Monet was not frustrated. She was a hopeful bird, desperately catching onto rays of consolation wherever she found them. I watched her, as the rays of the sun that had claimed its throne outside, danced in our dorm room, illuminating dust particles like delicate glitter. It irked me, that a shard of sun would highlight the dust I'd rather stay blind to. But it was a moment of clarity, and just because it involved something as vague as this, I couldn't convince myself that it mattered.

Bridgette Monet, Elias Dupont and Gabriel Chevrolet, having returned from Headmaster Fontaine's office, had trudged on into the dorm I shared with Bridgette, with the boys looking for somewhere to vent rather than understand. I couldn't blame them, if I was in their shoes, I would be furious too, but I was not in their shoes.

I was going to Hogwarts. I was being offered a chance on a silver platter to win The Elder Wand from Albus Dumbledore's grasp. The more I had thought about it last night, the more the pieces fell together. Of course, Voldemort would make an attempt at The Elder Wand at Hogwarts where he was taught and bred—cruel irony, to defeat the wizard who had been his own headmaster during his time in school. It all made perfect sense.

What separated me from my Beauxbatons peers in this moment, was that I had my own reasons to go, and they only had the orders.

"Maybe what happened to Toussaint scared the old wit," Gabriel Chevrolet spoke up, "He got worried that if he had another Diggory amongst the Hogwarts students, he'd be let go like the useless old wart he is. Il est vraiment intelligent, de partir quand la scène a été gâchée."

"Arrêt," Elias narrowed his eyes on Gabriel. "That useless old wart can kill you where you stand."

Gabriel bared his teeth. "I'd like to see him try."

"Oh, he'll do more than just try before you're done seeing."

"Alright, stop it," Bridgette interrupted right as the two guys neared each other, Chevrolet's hands contorting into fists. "If you both want to fight, you can exit our dorm room. Dominique and I have a strict no fights policy."

"And a strict no boys policy as well," I managed, gesturing vaguely with my hand before slumping backwards onto my bed that I had been sitting on.

The softness of the mattress pushed up against my back, taking the back of my head into a welcome embrace as a sigh left my lips. The sweet aroma of the jasmine perfume I had quickly spritzed over the made bed before I had left my dorm for the day, had settled into a comforting hue caressing my senses—like the embrace of a lover perhaps, who had just returned from a day of waging war. 

It was 2:00pm, the afternoon sky was not only blaring, but scorching outside. Classes for the Huntlock participants—or rather for the delegations that had arrived for it—had been canceled in honor of the ball tonight. Agilbert Fontaine had eradicated evening classes for the rest of the Ilvermorny students, affording them partially the same privilege but not entirely.

"Speaking of which," Bridgette's tone sharpened. "Keep your voices down, if Professor Basil finds out you're both here, there would be hell to pay. I would hate to have him insinuate something."

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Gabriel turned to her, irritation marring his face. "We have been pulled out of The Huntlock tournament, for Merlin's sake. The only goddamned thing I came here for! The thing we've been practicing and anticipating for even longer. I don't think Fontaine even spoke to Madame Maxime or Professor Basil, once they find out, that will be the real hell to pay. Fuck his insinuations."

I stared at the ceiling as Chevrolet fumed. Agilbert Fontaine's decision to wait so long to tell the rest of our peers was a clumsy strategic move, when he had given Krum and me this information yesterday, right before breakfast. And when would he be telling our own respective headmaster and mistress? On the day we board the train to Hogwarts?

"That is not our concern, I suspect." Elias straightened himself, tugging on his pristine Beauxbatons uniform blazer and straightening his posture, which was already definitively straight. "We must simply go along with it."

"I do think the honor of securing the rest of the hallows for the protection of the wizarding world is rather thrilling," Bridgette admitted, bringing her hands together.

"Yeah, I don't agree," Chevrolet muttered, fury emanating from him as he rolled his eyes. "If they have the fucking Elder Wand, why not use it to summon the rest of the hallows? If it can't summon them, what use is that thing at all? Un tas de conneries si vous me demandez."

"And are the hallows even real? Who the fuck told Fontaine that they were at Hogwarts?" Gabriel ran a hand over his closely shaven head, a vein jutting out from underneath his dark skin at his jaw. "If they are at Hogwarts, why not make them Dumbledore's responsibility? Let him give this bullshit assignment to a bunch of Hogwarts students and have them play scavenger."

I stilled slightly at that. Chevrolet's questions made perfect sense. Why had Agilbert Fontaine not thrusted the task entirely upon Dumbledore? Could he know what my great uncle predicted? Did he too see Dumbledore's defeat at the hands of Voldemort? Or had the old Hogwarts professor foreseen his own destruction and shared it with his friend?

"It has something to do with the hallows revealing themselves to those they choose," Elias Dupont's tone was calculative. "I'm not sure how true that is, but that is what I have heard. I'll need to research a bit more on this."

"Yeah, alright, that was the only fucking bit of lore missing from this, Dupont, merci." Chevrolet's dark eyes bore daggers into Elias' and the latter offered only the barest of shrugs in response.

"I don't think you guys are understanding me right now," The agitated boy pressed, his dark skin glittering with perspiration as a result of his argumentative desperation, his French sharp and demanding as his eyes settled on us all before stopping on me. 

"Dominique, listen to me."

Sighing silently, I bore myself upwards on the bed, resting on both my elbows, my eyes fixating themselves into Chevrolet's dark ones with a resolve. "I'm listening."

"Consider this," He began, "We journey out of the country, get to Hogwarts, spend the entirety of what, three weeks? And search for those two hallows. But what if they aren't even real? What if they don't exist and Fontaine just hired us for a laugh while he gives the fucking Huntlock trophy to his own school?"

"I don't think it will take us three weeks," Elias chimed in, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "Not unless you plan to actually do what you've been sent there for instead of thinking of it as an all expense paid for vacation."

"I swear to god, I will gut you, Dupont," Gabriel sneered at him like a vicious wolf.

"Look, Gabriel," Bridgette quickly stepped in between them, her voice light in an attempt to once again, soothe over the conversation. "Just because Agilbert Fontaine did not show you The Elder Wand as proof when you asked him to, does not mean that he is playing us."

"You asked him to show you The Elder Wand?" I let out, amusement coating my voice.

"Of course I did," Chevrolet snapped. "I'm not a fucking sheep, I won't just follow blind orders before being sure."

"Well," Elias sighed. "There's always a first time for everything."

"Alright," Bridgette exhaled as she sensed Gabriel tense again, before turning to face Elias. "Can you just please, give it a rest?"

Elias shrugged again before turning away.

"Chevrolet," Bridgette began again, "It will be fine, you'll see. We just have two hallows to locate, and with eight of us we will find them in no time. Then if the Huntlock isn't over yet, perhaps Headmaster Fontaine will allow you to return and join a tournament or two?"

"What—I'm not fucking coming back here and begging to rejoin a tournament I was selected for because of my own skills," The furious reply came as Gabriel switched suddenly to English. Bridgette pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing at his sudden switch. 

"And you can drop this positive act, Bridgette," He turned on her, continuing in English. "Everybody in this room knows you're just looking forward to this because that fucker Dimitrova is coming along too. Think of Fontaine as a damn wingman, why don't you." 

"Alright Gabriel," I jumped in, my voice firm as I sat up straight, eyes narrowed at him. 

Apparently, nothing with him ever went smoothly without someone else having to interrupt. The boy's path was hardly ever straight, his morality always swaying and dodging, refusing to take the standard route.  

"What? Did I say something wrong?" He held up his hands in mockery, "Because I don't believe so."

"This is all too convenient for you too, Dominique. Krum will make a fine lap for you to seat yourself on in the fucking train. Fuck, this is why you both aren't questioning all of this. What, has the prospect of getting to open your legs for those two Durmstrangs rendered you both entirely daft?"

"Chevrolet, stop it—" I started again, but he cut me off.

"Did those two fuckers even ask you both to the ball tonight? The way you've both been whoring yourself onto them, I think they're either really stupid or are faggots who don't have it in for girls."

He shook his head, fury making venom drip from his lips. "All those fucking lectures you gave me about working for the tournament together, Dominique. Teamwork. Then you and Bridgette go fuck the competition in the night."

"Chevrolet, shut the fuck up," Elias broke in then, and with my heart dropping slowly in my chest and his momentary silence, I had forgotten he was there at all.

When had I ever seen Chevrolet this riled up? When had he ever been this cruel with his words for me to entirely lose the ground from beneath my feet? At Beauxbatons, Mon Dieu, I had known him for years now. But he'd never been this cruel. But then again, I had never come in between him and his purpose, nor had Bridgette. At present, his impending glory in the Huntlock was being taken away from him, and that had wrung out all his vicious cruelty at once.

Suddenly, a choking laugh disrupted my senses and we all turned to where it was coming from. There, at the open entrance of the dorm Bridgette and I shared, in their dark brown Durmstrang uniform, stood the figures of Yordanka Hristova, Zubair Dimitrova and Viktor Krum.

Embarrassment pooled into me, deepening the hurt I had felt at Gabriel's words. His switch to English made sense now, Chevrolet had intended this, he must've seen them approach. The striking laugh had come from in between Yordanka Hristova's lips, and her eyes were still lit up as she threw her head back to let loose another laugh. Her laughter felt like a radio station program, with brief intervals for multiple intermissions, her form vibrating with the force of her laugh.

My eyes landed on Krum, but he wasn't looking at me. His anthracite eyes were on Gabriel Chevrolet, with his fists balled up at his side and his Bulgarian face held so tight his jaw stood out and neck throbbed with visible veins.

I wanted to wonder what part of Chevrolet's speech got to him, but I knew which part it was. I think they are either really stupid, or are faggots who don't have it in for girls. To someone like Viktor Krum, who held his own image even higher than anybody else held his—that had got to hurt, I thought bitterly.

"So much for Fontaine's little speech of teamwork," Yordanka blurted out, her English hard, dissolving into another fit of laughter before making a show of wiping beneath her eyes. "His stupid assignment is bound to end before it even begins."

"What are you doing here?" Elias Dupont took the lead, his voice schooled, posture ramrod straight. "This is a Beauxbatons dorm."

"Yeah," Hristova replied, mouth set apart in defiance. "A Beauxbatons girls' dorm, as I had gathered previously."

Elias held his ground. "Our girls don't mind."

"I can see that," The Durmstrang girl briskly let out, her eyes moving from Bridgette to me. I turned my own away, as Bridgette slowly approached and sat by my side on the bed.

"What you saw," Dupont continued, "Was the incompetent one of us retaliating because he was pulled away from a stupid tournament. I'm sure you have one of those? They come with unreasonable egos and an incessant use of the term fucking in their speech."

Gabriel Chevrolet let out a low grunt at that, his eyes whipping towards Elias who stood unbothered by his peer's fury.

"We don't," Viktor Krum spoke, and my eyes darted towards him. He was still enveloped in his own fury, but it was different from the fury I had seen on him before. This was darker, more ruthless in a way. This one looked like he had all the three unforgivable curses dancing on the tip of his tongue, his fists more than his wand, begging for violence.

"Because if we did, they wouldn't exist long enough to dissolve into a tantrum in the first place," He finished, allowing himself into our dorm and nearing Chevrolet.

Yordanka and Zubair followed suit, the latter also displaying an expression of anger, but his was marred with a schooled irritation. Krum was not the type for irritation, he latched straight onto fury—fury that was not really schooled or controlled, just displayed in a raw manner every time he showcased it. 

Gabriel stepped forwards, closing the distance between Krum and him to mere inches.

"Enough of this," I broke in, impatience and frustration etched into my tone as I used those two emotions to mask my embarrassment and hurt. 

I met Krum's eyes, as the furious look in them suddenly faltered at our contact. I blinked in surprise and watched as he regained his slip, and I schooled my own composure.

"Why are you here? I'm sure Agilbert Fontaine emphasized on the fact that if you have any questions, you must refer back to him."

Krum's lips parted to speak at my words, but Zubair Dimitrova beat him to it.

"We came here to see if we are all on the same page about going to Hogwarts for this task and parting from the tournament," He paused, pinning his hand behind his back as his eyes narrowed on Chevrolet. "It appears now that is not quite the case."

"It will be the case," I spoke sharply, still a bit raw at them overhearing. "Gabriel has no other option. He cannot afford to refuse and be sent back to Beauxbatons on account of his incompetence."

"Can you, Chevrolet?" I looked at him, and watched him stiffen some more. "I doubt Agilbert Fontaine will think much of your skills to keep you in the tournament after your blatant refusal to his plea. Les langues trop bien pendues coulent des navires."

He bared his teeth at me, as though I was directing my address to an animal, but then again, perhaps I was. He left then, his shoulder purposely slamming against Krum's as the latter stumbled slightly. Gabriel's angry footsteps were clear as he thundered down the stairs. Viktor Krum cleared his throat, and I could see him forcefully pushing back his anger at his Beauxbatons rival—I could tell that he was storing it somewhere for when he would make it resurface.

"So we set off tomorrow," Yordanka Hristova whistled low. "Wow, if Voldemort is back, that копеле better watch his back."

I blinked at the Bulgarian word, and found myself trying to decipher what it meant. A curse word, that much was obvious.

"Yordanka," Krum asserted after a pause. "Find headmaster Karkaroff and inform him of everything Agilbert Fontaine said in his office, before tonight."

He turned to look at me then, a calculating look in his eyes as he tactfully gave her an errand.

"We don't know when or if he plans to inform our superiors," Krum paused, maintaining eye contact with me. "He forgets we are not Ilvermorny students, thus, we don't work on his beck and call alone."

Elias made a noise of disapproval, and again, I had forgotten he was there.

"I don't think that is wise," He hastened. "Headmaster Fontaine must have planned to tell them, but he needs this to be kept low. Our heads will surely be told in secret, lest anyone should overhear if we resort to that same task."

"Yordanka," Krum spoke her name again, and the Durmstrang girl muttered an approval before exiting our dorm and disappearing down the stairs.

"Do not impose what you think, on me," The Bulgarian seeker spat then, eyes fixed on Elias now.

Elias' hands balled up at his sides, but he maintained his composure, swallowing his irritation. He turned to look at Bridgette and me, perched on my bed.

"I'll be leaving," He quipped, voice stern and eyes moving between us. "Because I don't trust myself to handle Durmstrangs at present."

With that, he offered us a small smile before taking his leave, and unlike Gabriel, hit no shoulders on his way out, but completely avoided them by a distance of meticulously measured two feet.

Viktor Krum waited a while as the sound of Elias' footsteps had evaporated like mist, his thick hand touching the back of his head in impatience. Bridgette shifted slightly next to me, and I knew she too was aware of what was to come. But I was alright, no tension in face of his eminent fury was to be found in any part of me.

The last time I had faced Krum's anger, I had been on my way to a dark wizard in captivity. This time, I had his dark blood on my hands, the sound of him asking me to kill him still fresh in my ears. A Durmstrang will not make me stumble on my will anymore, no one will.

Still, I was mildly curious. What would he ask me first? It had to be about my mark, if he had seen it all.

"Zubair, shut the door," Krum let out, making me gasp softly.

Dimitrova stepped back towards the door to our dorm.

"What? No," I stood up. "Say whatever you have to say. The door stays open."

Krum glared at me, his ebony irises sparkling something. "Zubair, shut the fucking the door."

Bridgette stood up behind me as I stepped closer to Krum, shock and frustration evident on my face.

"I said no!" I raged, bearing my eyes into the Bulgarian seeker's with as much force as I could muster at the moment. "Zubair Dimitrova, don't you dare touch the door."

Viktor Krum stepped closer to me, until the distance between us was of mere inches. I faltered slightly as I registered his nearness, the words I had admitted to Bridgette near a fire in the Austrian alps coming back to me full force. I heard Zubair Dimitrova click the door shut.

"Did you do it?" The Bulgarian seeker spoke readily then, spat the words out as though he had been holding them in for long.

"Do what?" I managed, taking a step back, for propriety's sake.

"Those fucking death eaters or acolytes, whoever the hell they were," He waved a thick hand vaguely. I noticed then how veined his arms were, his muscles so firm, lined with protruding skin colored veins like maps over his body.

"Did you set them on us?"

I wondered then if he would've asked me this question when we had stepped out of Agilbert Fontaine's office yesterday, if one of the Durmstrang Professors hadn't been in the hallway at that moment, if he hadn't dragged Krum away muttering of something in curt Bulgarian in his ear.

I wondered why the question of my mark hadn't been the first thing on his mind.

"No," I answered. I hadn't exactly set the acolytes on them, I had asked Flora Fischer to distract them—if there had been any setting done, then it was the dwarf witch's due. On second thought, yes, it was my due.

"Don't lie to me, Dominique," Viktor sneered, taking a step closer. "I saw some of the same faces I remember from that fucking party in Hamburg in Germany. You knew people there—you gave Gregorovitch to one of them. And now they show up in the alps, attacking me and Zubair? This was no coincidence."

"I thought they were captured," His jaw twitched. It made my eyes observe his face suddenly, I noticed the scar on his cheekbone was fading.

"After you snitched on them?" I raised a brow nonchalantly. "Of course, but some could have escaped. They are vicious death eaters and acolytes for a reason, aren't they?"

I was taunting him, his lack of common sense when his anger took over. Also, he clearly could not differentiate between acolytes and death eaters.

"Some, you say," Zubair Dimitrova's voice came from behind Krum as he approached us, amused eyes pinned on me. "But we faced twenty. About ten death eaters and then ten acolytes."

"What?" I murmured, registering the determination in his voice.

"These are exact numbers," The bronze Durmstrang asserted, his eyes firm. "They didn't face us together. The death eaters cornered us first, in that forest moments after you both disappeared. Then when we managed to run them out, we get face fisted by fucking acolytes before ye get to the alps."

Of course, death eaters would've been there. Aurelius Dumbledore had felt someone's presence, which was why he had rushed me. Had I not penned down a message for Voldemort in my great uncle's cell and in his blood? Had I not known he was going to pay a visit? Of course, he would have had his death eaters scour the area first.

"Voldemort had an impending visit to make to Grindelwald too," I managed, turning away and facing the sky outside our dorm balcony, Krum at my back. "It's only natural you would encounter such obstacles as you did."

Hopefully, he did not see my part in it anymore. I felt a sudden panic swirl inside me. I needed to check in with Fischer—with the acolytes. Would the death eaters have seen them? Did Voldemort find out they were there? If he had, it would be easy for him to link it all to me. Grindelwald was dead, but still the acolyte leadership had been claimed. It would not be hard for him to find out that Gellert Grindelwald had a remaining family.

"Fuck," Viktor Krum hissed, the cogs in his brain turning. Of course, courtesy of Harry Potter, we had already known Voldemort was also pursuing The Elder Wand.

"But they have it," Zubair Dimitrova blurted out, "Fontaine said that they have it. They need only the remaining two deathly hallows. What, did you take it from Grindelwald and give it to him? Is that why he has put you in charge along with Krum for our assignment?"

I sighed, glancing at Bridgette. She took the cue.

"No, Grindelwald did not have it," She started, facing the two Durmstrangs. "It made sense that he didn't. The wand's allegiance needs to be won, and the dark wizard was clearly defeated."

"Dumbledore," Viktor Krum spoke the name. "He has it."

"He does," I said plainly, not letting my voice display any emotion.

"Then it ended up where it needed to be," He continued as I turned back around to face him. There was satisfaction in his eyes, a hungry sort of it that demanded some sort of a reaction from me.

"Peut-être," I offered.

"How did you get in? Did you face that bastard? How did you manage to leave?" The Bulgarian seeker pressed then, satisfaction in his eyes replacing into.. concern?

"We had help," Bridgette folded her arms across her chest.

"From who?" Zubair glanced at her, a brow raised as he tried to read her.

Bridgette exchanged a glance with me. Was it safe revealing Aurelius Dumbledore's name? He hadn't given me any sort of permission, and it wasn't that I needed it. Speaking his name and admitting he helped would make him sort of permanent thing, when in reality, I don't suppose I would be seeing him again. Bridgette understood that unspoken agreement, and she gave me a determined look before glancing at Dimitrova and answering.

"Someone who doesn't matter anymore."

"That's convenient," Viktor Krum scoffed, and I remembered refusing to tell him the name or identity of Angus, who I had saddled Gregorovitch's safety with.

I startled suddenly, as I thought of Gregorovitch and Angus. Gregorovitch only knew that Grindelwald had the wand, and Voldemort already found that out for him to be paying a visit to Nurmengard. Perhaps it was time to return Gregorovitch back his memories, he would be no use to Voldemort anymore.

"Gregorovitch doesn't know the wand is with Dumbledore," Krum spoke up after a pause, his ebony eyes pinning themselves into mine. "The time has come for you to return his memories and stop keeping him like a dog in a cage."

I narrowed my eyes on him. "Pour votre information, Gregorovitch is perhaps the happiest he has ever been at present. I believe not having worries has done wonders for him."

"But I will be returning him his memories soon," I added, before smiling. "Then you can host him a welcome home party, bake him a delicious little cake with his name in fondant and cream."

"And perhaps you could perform that opening number of the Durmstrangs that is so talked about," Bridgette chimed in, grinning. "The one you did at Hogwarts, before the Triwizard?"

"Oui, mon dieu," I brought my hands together. "I'm sure Gregorovitch would adore that! And your friends Yordanka, and Dimitrova here, can accompany you."

"And how about a perfect sleepover to end the night?" Bridgette set her eyes on Krum, barely holding back her laughter. "Dominique tells me you haven't been able to sleep properly for the effort of missing the wandmaker so."

"Mhm," I nodded, smiling, "Late night sessions of mud facials, cupcake contests, and wizard's chess with the old wandmaker will soothe you right up."

Viktor Krum reached out a hand and grabbed my elbow, yanking me close.

"Don't provoke me," He muttered, his breath hot on my face as a muscle twitched visibly in his jaw. His eyes, now such a familiar sight, were all I could see. He did not appear antagonized, but rather a bit amused—though I had a feeling he was fighting to dissolve it.

I snatched my elbow back, making a show of flipping my hair—that had fallen over my shoulder from his pull—back.

"Alright, Bridgette," I mused. "I think we should stop, or Viktor Krum might blush."

He smirked at me, and it was such an uncanny sight after bouts of his fury, that I almost faltered. He hadn't yet asked me of my mark, and suddenly I realized that maybe he hadn't seen it. It was not possible that he saw it and refused to confront me about it. Or perhaps, he was biding his time. Waiting to corner me alone.

Zubair Dimitrova cleared his throat, successfully diverting our attention. "So, we're headed to Hogwarts early tomorrow."

"Oui," Bridgette affirmed. "But first we have to get through this night. Create the perfect effect to maintain our illusion."

I scoffed. "The illusion, all for les dorés. Has anyone even seen them yet? I'm starting to believe they aren't at Ilvermorny at all."

It would make sense, why creatures as mighty as those haven't found my heuristics out yet. I knew one of them, I had him protecting Gregorovitch. Angus was a giant, his presence was something that couldn't be ignored. How long can a creature like him—a Halmasti, a jinn—stay silently in the shadows?

"If they weren't," Krum shrugged. "Then Fontaine wouldn't be going to all this trouble of hosting the tournament."

"Maybe he doesn't know—maybe he just blindly believes that they are present and watching."

He shrugged again at my response.

"So are you going with anyone?" Dimitrova blurted out suddenly, catching all our attention as I found my eyes on him in surprise. His own dark brown ones were fixed on Bridgette, and she shifted on her feet slightly under his gaze.

"To the Lock Ball, I mean," The Durmstrang clarified, as if any of us had wondered what he meant.

"No, I—," She broke off, exchanging a quick glance with me, before looking at him again. "No, actually. I'm not going with anyone."

"I want to, but I don't know what he wants."  Her words from our conversation in the Austrian alps fluttered around in my head. Now that I was present, now that my mind was somewhat free, I could tell what Zubair Dimitrova wanted—anyone could tell what he wanted at present.

"Then I hope you offer me the pleasure of your company," Dimitrova straightened, chest hunched out and head held high as he approached her like a soldier.

He took her right hand, bent himself slightly at the waist, and brought the back of her hand to his lips. Surprise radiated through me, and I caught myself as I suppressed the grin that had been spreading on my face. She laughed slightly and said yes, upon which he straightened himself again and leaned forwards to murmur something to her that I couldn't make out. She laughed a little more openly at that, a blush enveloping her neck. 

Viktor Krum shifted beside me, and the slight sound made me aware of his daunting presence. And as Bridgette and Dimitrova talked in hushed tones—him being mostly the one speaking—I felt the air of awkwardness drench everything that concerned my corner of the world. It felt like watching something good from afar, like if I were to walk towards Bridgette, her and Dimitrova would just float further away.

"I didn't know he wanted to ask her," Krum's low tone caught me by surprise as I turned to look at him. He looked.. hesitant, slightly apologetic, guilty.

"Well," I acknowledged softly. "Now you know." 

"Are you going?" He probed, touching the back of his neck, his fingers itching a vague spot I couldn't see. "To the ball?"

"Yes," I replied.

Did I have a choice to not go to the Lock ball? If I had the choice, would I have taken it? I didn't think so. I would've gone either way, even if just to listen to the music they were playing. I was beginning to realize I may not have another chance at snatching glimpses of a normal life, and Bridgette had made me realize that not going to the Lock Ball was not a glimpse that I wanted to reject so quickly. Her attraction towards Dimitrova, her hope coming true of going to the ball with him. These were normal, beautiful things were they not? Would I miss them desperately one day? Would I wish one day that I would've put myself out more, if only to have things to look back on? I didn't want to risk the regret, so yes, I was going to the Lock Ball. 

I suddenly wanted to ask who he was going with, if he had asked someone at all. I dreaded his answer, and I found myself lacking the courage to place that question in the first place. I caught myself at that. What was going on with me? It was just a ball. Whoever he went with wouldn't matter now that the wizarding world was slowly trying to ground itself and expect impending doom. It wouldn't matter who his date to a ball was when war would suddenly spring itself and tower over us all. 

"You must be going with Hristova," I found myself speaking, courage returning to me when I forcefully shut out the part of me that cared.

Truthfully, I didn't truly understand why I made the comment. Was I teasing him? Or only getting a message across to myself? 

He blinked, startled by the statement. His eyes fell to the ground at his feet before meeting mine.

"Maybe."

I tilted my head slightly at that, a sudden wave of hurt unravelling in me. The Bulgarian seeker no longer looked firm, and his answer lacked the resolution he carried in his voice and eyes. His answer sounded like he wasn't sure, and I realized with a jolt that maybe he hadn't asked Yordanka Hristova at all. Was it someone else then? I found myself not wanting to ask this time because I lacked the desire to, not the courage.

"Did she leave you hanging?" I mustered, a teasing smile on my lips. "Good for her."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Girls don't leave me hanging."

"I'm not sure where you've encountered such girls," I spun on my feet and walked over to our vanity, touching my hair as I observed my reflection in the mirror. I could see Krum standing where I left him, staring into the mirror—at me, an unreadable expression on his face, hands tucked in pockets.

 "You must introduce them to me," I spoke, my tone coated in amusement.

Suddenly, the Durmstrang looked flustered in a way I haven't seen a guy be before. His expression changed into a stoic one, and the veins on his neck tightened visibly. As though he was waging battles inside his head that I couldn't see—as though he had just lost. He shut his eyes tight, and the skin on face pinched red at some points.

The amusement on my face unraveled into confusion, and my lips parted to speak—to ask him if it had been my jest that had got to him but before I could, Viktor Krum turned and walked away, exiting the dorm room. I heard his footsteps sound down the stairs, before I didn't hear them anymore.

A sudden wave of humiliation washed over me, and I swallowed a lump in my throat, pushing the unwelcome feelings away as hard as I could. I glanced at Bridgette, but Zubair was still there, talking to her, and she was still there looking up at him and smiling. I walked away, and stepped into the balcony, getting away from their energy and letting the warm sun drench me outside as I stared at the mountain peaks beyond. 

Just one more night at Ilvermorny, then I would be in Hogwarts. It was a turn I don't think I ever expected. But it made so much sense. Hogwarts marked the rise of Voldemort, it would also mark his return. It would be where—when he figures out—he would attack Dumbledore for The Elder Wand. Hogwarts would be where I will beat him to it.

But first, I had to face The Lock Ball, and everything this last night in Ilvermorny had to offer. With Voldemort catching speed behind me, it was hard to believe we would be returning back here at all.

***

A/N: 
Ok, you guys, this was not a filler chapter! I meant it as a building block to help put the focus on character relationships and how they interact in a vacuum. And I think I did a mighty cute job with it hehe. anyways, who up for a ball in the next chapter?? trigger warnings for severe angst lol.