“Vot is vord Mudblood meaning?”
Hermione stopped writing and her quill grew silent as she looked at the boy sitting across from her. She hated that word and never expected to hear it from Viktor. He had the expression he always got when there was something he didn’t understand: curious and slightly confused.
“I look vord up in dictionary but it is not there,” he explained slowly, taking his time with the words that were becoming easier to him with every passing day. “Ve do not haff that vord in my country so I do not understand vot it means.”
“Where did you hear that word?” she asked softly. For the first time since they’d begun to talk in the library, she wanted to ignore his request for a definition. She would prefer for him to never know that word or to learn about the prejudice that was so rampant amongst many of the Pureblood students.
“I oferhear annoying blond boy say vord during lunch today,” Viktor said. “He say vord about you so I vish to be knowing vot he say.”
“It’s not a nice word,” she finally said, angry that Malfoy called her that and frustrated that she would never be anything more to so many in this world.
“I think it vrong vord for using about you but I neffer hear vord before,” he told her. “That is vy I ask vot it mean. That boy is, how you say, arse? I vont know vot he vhisper ven he think I not listening.”
“He was brought up to believe certain things, like many of them, by their parents,” she replied before she added, “But he’s still an arse.”
“This vord makes you sad,” Viktor observed quietly. “I am sorry I make you unhappy. I neffer vish to be making you feel bad. I vont to practice my hexing on that boy but I vonted to be knowing for certain that vord was vrong.”
“Don’t hex Malfoy. He’s not worth it,” she told him. “You didn’t make me sad, Viktor. I just hate that word. It’s an insult, one of the worst that someone like me can be called.”
“Someone like you?” he repeats curiously. “Vot do you mean by that, Hermy-own?”
“Her-my-o-nee,” she said slowly. “Someone like me, Viktor. A Muggleborn. Someone without wizarding blood.”
“Vy does blood matter?” he asked sincerely. “I hear Karkaroff say only those vit pure blood matter but he is vrong. Ve all have same blood, don’t ve? It is red and ve all bleed the same so vot is being problem?”
“Certain people don’t believe it’s the same at all,” she explained. “Someone like me has dirty blood in their eyes and they don’t think I deserve to be magical at all. It doesn’t matter if we all bleed the same or not.”
“I do not understand,” Viktor finally admitted. “You are smartest girl I effer meet and good vit magic. Vy is that vrong? Blood is not important ven it is same beneath skin.”
“I’m glad you can’t understand,” she confessed with a gentle smile. “It’s something that makes you different from many others in this world.”
“People are not making sense many times,” he said with a shake of his head. “I do not like that vord. It makes you sad and it is vrong. I vill not listen to him or others use it about you.”
“Viktor, it’s fine. I suppose I’m getting used to it,” she said, not wanting him to do anything that got him in trouble over a word that she’d always have to hear.
“Ven I hex him, I vill not be caught,” he whispered confidentially as a mischievous smile crossed his thin lips. “You need to not be vorrying about me, Hermy-own.”
“I always worry about my friends,” she told him, not bothering to repeat her name again. She liked when he smiled because it was obvious he didn’t smile very often. It made him look less broody and severe, which was how most people saw him. She was fortunate enough to see the real Viktor during their private moments in the library and by the lake, a side he didn’t show anyone else from what she could tell.
“As do I,” he pointed out quietly. “It is vy I vill not let them say that vord about you. Ve are friends and I vorry about hurtful vords. I vill neffer valk avay if I oferhear vords vhispered against you if I can do something.”
Hermione recognized a stubbornness that was becoming very familiar and finally smiled. She leaned over and brushed a quick kiss against his cheek before she looked back at her parchment, a faint blush on her cheeks. “Thank you, Viktor. Just promise that you won’t get caught,” she said quietly as she stared unseeingly at the words on her homework, unable to believe she’d just kissed his cheek.
She didn’t notice Viktor stare at her with a look of affectionate awe as he lightly touched his cheek and whispered, “I promise.”
End
Words
Story Notes:
4/11/06