Waiting to meet with the Professor Who: Viktor and Headmistress McGonagall What: Viktor wants to make an arrangement with Hogwarts, about Quidditch Where: The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade When: Sunday afternoon Warnings: TBA
He was eager to make a good impression, and had waved off the notion of drinking butterbeer as he waited. It was a nice cold brisk day. He could smell the snow on the air, and knew that it would come. He had been at school at Durmstrang long enough to understand the subtle signs of the weather. Snow and cold were second nature to him, and he let himself feel a brief moment of pleasure at the thought of the ground being covered in white.
But it made him frown in the next moment. Where was Hermione? Were they housed somewhere, safe and warm? Or was she out in this weather, with no shelter at all? The thought made him worried for a moment. If she could let him know where she was close to, he would go, take a bundle of things they might need, and leave it somewhere for them to find. That way, she wouldn't have to tell him where she was, exactly. Viktor sipped at the warm drink and gave a heavy sigh. He needed the Quidditch now, more than ever; the distraction would do him good. He had not been able to attend the Slytherin/Gryffindor game; the grounds did not allow in any outside guests. Viktor had been resigned about that, but hoped that he could convince the new Headmistress to let him come, help the students, and watch the games. At least he would have that.
He wondered again at what kind of fool he was for moving here. He had picked this place, really, so that he might see her even if it was only once or twice a month. Now, the option of seeing Hermione had been removed.
Sighing again, he leaned back in the chair, and thought about his morning. He'd sent an owl to his mother, and an owl to his siblings at school. It had been difficult to sound cheerful and carefree in both notes, but the last thing he wanted was to alarm his mother or his brothers and sister. So he'd written about All Saints Night, and had included some treats for his siblings at Durmstrang to taste and share. He had written to his mother about the various aspects of his job, and how interesting it was to puzzle out the problems he'd found in the Floos. He had told her that he was learning a good skill; something that would surly help him even after his Quidditch career was over. In reality, he thought it was all rot. He'd been utterly bored, and itched to get back to flying.
Viktor was lost in thought, but sat up straighter when he thought he saw a familiar form come through the door.