Chapter Text
"Are you ready, Viktor?" asked Professor McGonagall solemnly. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat on the edge of their seats; they wouldn't have missed this for anything.
Viktor nodded. "Of course." Professor McGonagall took the Sorting Hat and placed it carefully on Viktor's head.
"Oh, interesting," it said, deep and creaky, as if the hat was stretching after a long sleep. "Viktor Krum. Rarely have I had such an enigmatic head under my brim. You have strength—and also the unyielding will to persevere, regardless of obstacles. That fits Hufflepuff, but your ambition... You're cunning," the hat continued, "strategic. No childish naivety in you. Yes, an excellent candidate for Slytherin."
The hat paused. "And yet... yet there is also that fire. Not just courage—no, courage alone is too simple. It's the willingness to put yourself in danger for something greater, for someone else. And especially—especially for her."
"Hermione Granger," the hat whispered—but aloud. "The pivot in your moral compass. With her—oh, with her, you've become something else. More human, more unpredictable."
The hat fell silent again. It seemed to hesitate. And then, with a deep sigh:
"Rarely, rarely do I make a choice based on another—but you are who you are, not despite, but because of her. And therefore, Viktor Krum... GRYFFINDOR!"
Ron almost literally fell off his chair. "Viktor was nearly a Slytherin? And you," he pointed at Hermione, "Of all people, you're going to marry a Slytherin?"
"Ron," said Hermione sharply. "Isn't that logical? Think back to our encounter with the Qilin in the Forbidden Forest. Without Viktor's help, Hogwarts would have been half-destroyed. It would have taken hundreds of lives to stop Voldemort. Only a Slytherin could have designed his strategies—" She paused, just for a fraction of a second. "And only a Gryffindor would have dared to fight Voldemort like that. So, what the hat said—Gryffindor, but nearly Slytherin—I completely agree." A silence fell.
Professor McGonagall, who had been standing silently with her hands folded in front of her chest all this time, finally took a deep breath.
"That," she said slowly, "was remarkably enlightening. And what you told about the Qilin—" McGonagall cast a brief glance at the portrait of Dumbledore, which now seemed awake and listening attentively. "If that's true—and I have no doubt it is—then this country, this school, owes Viktor Krum a great debt."
And the portrait of Dumbledore above the mantelpiece—so it seemed to Harry at least—smiled. Just for a moment.