WARNING : you are now about to read a story written by a person with questionable sanity. Draco's positively devious here. You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Don't expect flowers and rainbows and run while you still can.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything but the plot.

Please read 'His Beautiful, Haunting Eyes' before reading this. You can find the story on my profile page.

I got one scene from the movie that wasn't in the book.

English is my second language. I'm still trying to figure out how the beta thing works :))

Somebody gave me a link to a Vietnamese translation of HBHE. It's in my page. I'm a little disappointed that you didn't ask for my permission first, translator person. Next time, please ask before you translate. I won't bite :)

annnnnnywaysss... here we go :)


Prologue


She thought she caught a glimpse of someone familiar standing lazily amongst the sea of people in the dance floor.

A flash of blond hair shifted over that side. Another one to her right.

"Ms. Granger?" Her eyes snapped back to the man clad in green robes in front of her, Mr. Vasil Krum, Viktor's uncle. Tall and skinny man he was, holding a wine glass in his right hand and twirling the red liquid nonchalantly. She was certain she drifted into a state of paranoia again, seeing things that weren't supposed to be there.

As if her eyes played tricks on her.

It happened more and more often these days.

She shook her head apologetically, then nodded for Mr. Vasil to continue.

"As I vos saying," He cleared his throat. "Our family is quite a prominent family in Bulgaria. I speak for the entire Krum clan, to remind you to votch your actions from now on—"

There he was again, the bloke with blond hair, but she wasn't so sure. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.

"—Ve can't have you tainting our family's flawless reputation vith your attention-seeking relationship vith Harry Potter—"

"I beg your pardon?" She stared at him disbelievingly, caught off guard by the sudden insulting statement. How rude this man was. "Harry Potter happens to be my best friend. What do you mean attention seeking relationship?" She demanded.

"You know vot I mean."

"No, I'm afraid I don't. Why don't you enlighten me?" she said coldly.

He eyed her condescendingly. "Viktor may have accepted you, but it doesn't mean that ve do. So please, act accordingly and refrain from all these—" he waved his hand to emphasize his point. "—disgusting affairs vith famous people."

She clenched her fists in anger.

"Yes, well, thank you for the reminder Mr. Vasil," she said through gritted teeth. Her sarcasm wasn't missed, he glared at her before disappearing in the crowd. She really wanted to hex the man, but she knew it would only cause a scene so she stopped herself.

She inhaled deeply, counted to ten and took another glass of wine from a tray floating around the beautifully decorated halls.

The wine was bitter against her lips. She felt it go straight to her stomach. This engagement party was giving her a headache. It wasn't at all like what she had expected. Seeing all these people dressed in elegance and confidence to brag about their money and status was all very annoying to her.

If she'd had it her way, she wouldn't have bothered with such a party, but the Krums had insisted. And they had insisted it be held in Bulgaria as well, leaving Hermione to celebrate her own engagement party with people she hardly knew.

Good thing Harry had promised to go.

Attention-seeking relationship with Harry Potter? Seriously? She let out a snort.

She caught Viktor's eye while he was talking to a group of people, no doubt Quidditch fanatics. He grinned at her and mouthed an 'I love you,' before he continued his idle chat with the crowd.

She knew he was uncomfortable with all the attention, but the way he was handling himself to pretend like he was interested while saying less or nothing at all, was rather remarkable. He was a pro at this. She, on the other hand, was anything but. She had tried to mingle a while ago, but decided to give up altogether when the conversations all led to high-society rubbish.

She would have to put up with this every single day once they were married.

She sighed and stared at Viktor once more.

One of these days she was going to have to say it back. They were engaged for the love of Merlin. She shouldn't put off saying something so trivial like 'I love you too.'

Avoiding more social-climbing house wives headed towards her direction, Hermione walked outside the huge balcony to get a breath of fresh air. Once she was safetly outdoors, she leaned against the railing and gazed at the stars. The air was cold but it felt good against her skin.

"Alright there, Hermione?" said a voice.

"Yeah, just a little tired."

At least Harry was here now.

"You're late," she said in an accusing tone. He grinned sheepishly.

"Why are you out here? You should be inside, socializing." He leaned against the railing beside her.

She snorted rather loudly. "They think I'm an attention seeking whore."

Harry chuckled. "This happened once before, in our fourth year. Do what you always do, ignore them. They're not worth it."

A small smile played in her lips. He was right. She can't let these rich snobs get to her.

They didn't say anything for a long time, but it was fine. His silence was a comforting one, a reassurance. No words. Just his presence. Just enough to let her know he was there. And right now she really needed him.

"I still hear his voice sometimes."

It came out as a small crack. She was going for something short and casual, but it shocked him nonetheless. It was the first time in five years, she had ever mentioned him. Harry didn't answer but merely continued gazing at the vast fields outside the Krum mansion. She knew he was reminiscing.

"When we were in the tower that night, I saw his eyes," he whispered finally. "I remember telling myself it was over... that I was finally going to be with my parents. His wand was already aimed at me. Then I heard you say his name."

She felt uneasy with the conversation. She bit her lip and looked at anywhere but Harry. She was feeling far too embarrassed.

"He looked confused and troubled. And he kept clutching at his chest," he continued. "I wonder what had happened then? I think he'd changed, bet you anything he had. Shame he had to die the same time."

Was he really dead? she wanted to ask but stopped herself.

"You've done everything you could. No one blames you, Hermione," he assured her.

His gaze fell on her and he touched her cheek with the back of his hand. He stood straight, bowed a rather dramatic bow, took her hand in his, and ever so gently, he twirled her around.

And suddenly they were dancing.

The whole world seemed to melt away and it was just the two of them. They moved to the music barely audible from where they were, and it was just perfect. Nothing else mattered. Like the time when they searched for the Hocruxes, the time when they only had each other to hold onto.

Strange how she feels that way right now.

"It's okay to cry, you know," he whispered in her ear.

She stiffened immediately, felt herself lean in his shoulders and clutch his arms tight. That's where he was wrong, Harry was. It wasn't okay to cry for him. Not at all.

BOOM!

Suddenly everything was in utter chaos. The sudden impact of the explosion caused them to crash to the railings. Harry was quicker than her. He was already on his feet, wand at the ready. She felt a searing pain in her back but she was too stunned to care.

Flames.

Huge, red, dancing flames blazed to the dark sky. They heard roaring, billowing noises. Fiendfyre. She stared in horror as the flames took the shape of fire-breathing monsters and beasts; snakes, chimeras, and dragons, continuously mutating, engulfing the mansion in only a moment's warning.

"No wait! Hermione!"

She ran to the doors without much thought, shielded herself with every ounce of magic she had. The immense heat immediately burned her skin a little. There were bodies everywhere. People were slowly being devoured by beast-like flames, their tortured screams hurting her ears. They held their burning hands out to her, reached for her, shouted for her to help. She tried to save them but she couldn't.

There is no countercurse for this.

"Viktor!" she yelled desperately. "Viktor! Answer me!"

She coughed violently as the poisonous fumes entered her lungs. "Her-hermy-own-nin-ny.." It was a deep, strangled voice.

There he was, his body crushed by a huge chandelier.

"Oh Merlin, Viktor." She rushed towards him. She cringed at the sight before her. There were burns everywhere. Blood was rushing out of his mouth. His left leg had been sliced off entirely.

She blasted the chandelier off him, tried to heal him with everything she had. "Y-you're going t-to be alright." She was trying, she really was. She could see her hand trembling as she clutched her wand. "H-hold on." He groaned when her magic stung to heal his burns. The tears were all over her face now, but she ignored them. Her whole hand was shaking as it clutched her wand. Her healing charm wasn't working and his wounds just opened up again. "J-just—" She had to save him. She had to.

She barely noticed him hold her hand weakly, a small gesture telling her that he wanted her to stop. "N-no just-just let me." She sobbed desperately.

"It's okay," he said calmly, brushing her face with his free hand.

For a brief instance, she closed her eyes. As if to remember this moment, to feel him entirely, to feel his touch against her skin.

And that was the last time she saw him smile.

"Hermione!"

Her coughs got more violent, more painful. She felt her shield deteriorating, her magic slipping away. She couldn't breathe properly anymore. She refused to let go of Viktor's lifeless form. This can't be happening, he can't be dead.

"Hermione!"

Someone was standing lazily amongst the dust and debris. He was leaning casually against a stone column, strangely unaffected by the fire, strangely unmoved by the chaos. He was staring at her in faint amusement. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his dark robes. Familiar. She couldn't make out his features but she knew immediately.

Only one person would be so calm in times like these. Only one.

She tried to raise her wand but her body finally gave in, collapsing to the floor from the lack of air. Someone was shaking her roughly, Harry. "Stay awake Hermione." She felt him lift her up. "I'm here. Stay awake!"

"Viktor's dead, Harry. He killed him," she kept repeating. "He killed him."

And the darkness devoured her whole...


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Woah.. Imagine if you were Hermione and you see burning people screaming for you to come save them. Scary shit, man. It's like you're in hell or something.

Somehow, people always end up dead when I write stories. Sorry about that. :p