Fic Offering: 3 short ones

And here we have the previously promised fic offering. They're all from the potterverse100, and you can see my table of links to all those stories here.

Title: Independent Projects
Author: Sare Liz
Claim: Viktor/Hermione
Prompt: (02) Classes
Rating: G
Word Count: 1, 412
Series: Continuous with what was done in “The Amazing Bouncing Ferret”
Disclaimer: Prompt from Potterverse 100. Characters the property of JKR and associated persons and corporations.

*

He was in the library an awful lot, and nearly always was surrounded by stacks of books. Sometimes it was just the two of them there, though at some point his fan club tended to wander in and then back out again at least once.

Hermione tried not to stare at him, and was mostly successful, but today she was having a rather hard time of it. The weather had really only just turned cold, and it always took her body a bit of time to adjust to it properly. Today she just couldn’t get warm. And she couldn’t really concentrate on her Arithmancy tables, though things had started to get really interesting in that class.

He was always here after dinner, she mused. Which is to say that she herself was nearly always here after dinner, and she’d never noticed him to be elsewhere. Her mind flitted over his presence, thinking briefly of his celebrity status and how similar it was to how the Creeveys treated Harry, and how the whole school seemed to be on the Potter Stinks bandwagon just now, and what a git Ron was being, but how wonderful Ginny was, and how horrible it was to just adore someone who didn’t know that you existed, or at least, in that way…

But then Viktor Krum looked up. Hermione had been staring, but her mind was elsewhere. She didn’t register that he now met her gaze until several moments into it. Startled, she looked away, her eyes darting around like her thoughts had, only to flit back to check – he was still looking at her. She looked away again, but back almost instantly, and held his gaze this time, at least for a tiny space. Hermione quirked her lips in a bit of a smile and was stunned to see how his face transformed when he smiled. Merlin, the boy was beautiful when he smiled.

This must be what people mean when they say something took their breath away, she thought. She’d previously ridiculed the notion, but Hermione now had empirical data. It took her a moment to figure out what she actually wanted out of this breath-taking experience, but in the end she decided that she’d rather like to talk with him again. Not that it would occur directly under Madam Pince’s nose, of course. They’d have to be a bit sneakier than that.

Hermione smiled a tiny bit wider at Viktor and looked meaningfully to the rows of bookshelves off to her right, topping off her bit of non-verbal communication with the quirk of a single eyebrow. Would he get it? She pushed back her chair, still looking at him, and finally broke eye contact to wander into those bookshelves. Going to the end of a row, Hermione grabbed a book at random and sat on the low desk that was attached to the shelves. The Dangers of Anthropomorphizing Existential Concepts – it could prove rather interesting, even if Viktor didn’t get the hint. Hermione looked up to verify the section she was in. Muggle Studies. That’s what she’d thought. Flipping through the index of chapters Hermione made a mental note to check this one out. She started in on the first page of chapter one, A Survey of Anthropomorphic Personifications Throughout History, but before she could get past the first paragraph she heard a soft step coming up from behind.

She shifted her head slightly so she could see at least the feet and legs of whomever was near as they walked by, but when said feet and legs neared, encased in combat boots and brown wool respectively, they stopped. There was no walking by for these feet and legs, apparently. Hermione peered up, momentarily uncertain. She had wanted to talk to Viktor, so she’d taken the appropriate steps to do so, but now that she had him here to talk to, she wasn’t sure she actually could. This sort of thing didn’t happen when she wanted to speak with any of the other boys…

“Hi,” was the only thing that came to mind.

“May I join you?” He was so courteous. Why couldn’t Ron be like this? In fact, why couldn’t any of the boys be like this? Seamus wasn’t bad looking, neither was Dean, but neither of them had what one might term manners. Viktor pulled up a chair when she nodded. “Alvays it is making me think, that,” he said, gesturing with his hand toward her.

Hermione blinked at him. “The book?” she queried, holding up the spine of her newfound treasure.

“No,” he responded, looking at her. “Vot you were doing. I do not know vord. Vhen you say ‘yes’ vit no vords.”

“Oh! You mean when I was nodding my head? Like this?” Hermione asked, nodding again.

“Yes,” Viktor said, and Hermione noted that he did not nod his head. In fact he was very, very still. It was an odd thing to notice, but since she was fidgeting with the cover of the book and had the intense desire to smooth her skirt and brush her hair back, she noticed that he seemed so calm, comparatively speaking. “In my country, is other vay.” Viktor nodded slightly, saying, “mean no.” And then he shook his head, “mean yes. But only in Bulgaria.”

“How interesting,” Hermione said, sitting forward slightly with her elbows on her knees. “But surely not everyone from Durmstrang is from Bulgaria? I mean…” she trailed off, not quite sure how to ask her question tactfully.

“No, is true. From all Eastern Europe, not only Bulgaria.” Viktor paused, seeming to look for the words he wanted. “But… at school ve not answering that vay. Our teachers get angry if they see us doing, even out of classroom.”

“Oh!” Hermione responded, shifting the book in her lap slightly. “So, at school they sort of train you not to do it at all, but you’re still used to seeing people respond… Well, respond a different way than they do here.”

“Yes. Exactly, yes.” Viktor smiled again at her and Hermione would be embarrassed to later report to Ginny that it was a bit difficult to think when Viktor smiled at her like that.

“So, um, what’s your delegation doing for classes now that you’re here?”

Viktor gave her a blank look.

“I mean,” she began to rephrase, “Do you have classes here in the castle, or are your classes on your ship…”

“Ship.”

“Oh. What are you studying? Is it just your headmaster who teaches you?”

Viktor collected his thoughts for a moment. “Two professors, our headmaster, and vone who… is helping him. Ve learn spells, and potions, and dark arts, and combat, and history, and creatures and plants, and… each student has two big… um, I do not know vord. Ve read and write, and we are having to do something about our learning, but ve do this alone.”

“Oh, you mean, like an independent project?”

“I do not know vords you use.”

“Independent is an adjective that means alone, without aid. Project is a noun that means…” Hermione trailed off, trying to figure out a good way to put it. “Well, a project could really be anything, but it’s something that you create, or do. It’s a very general word.”

“Independent project. Yes. Yes, I like that. Ve all have two. Vone of mine is being in Tournament. Other is new; I learn how to be animagus.” Viktor said the Latin word with such a thick accent that Hermione realized it must have been the same in his own language. Still, it took her brain just a half second longer than normal to puzzle out what he’d actually said. And then she did.

Hermione’s mouth gaped slightly.

“That’s fascinating!” she exclaimed in a quiet whisper.

It may be possible that Madam Pince had a soft spot in her heart for Hermione, but it was more likely that the couple was just quiet and had gone unnoticed by the librarian as they discussed the small amount of progress Viktor had made in his research thus far. Both were leaning toward each other, Hermione looking slightly down from her perch, Viktor looking slightly up from his chair, and both were blocking the aisle. It wasn’t until a younger student needed to pass them (while looking breathlessly at Viktor – something Hermione had slightly more compassion for just now) that they found themselves booted from the cozy world that was all their own, population two.

END.


Title: The Gift of Sight
Author: Sare Liz
Claim: Viktor/Hermione
Prompt: (03) Spells
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 640
Series: Continuous with what was begun in “The Amazing Bouncing Ferret”
Disclaimer: Characters belong to JKR and Associates. Prompts are from Potterverse100.
Notes: This is way more fun that I thought it was going to be.


*

His class gathered outside as it usually did, despite what weather might be occurring around them. Near the forest and within sight distance of the gamekeeper’s hut and oversized Beauxbatons carriage the twelve students and two teachers came together in a circle. This afternoon was combat practice. Ninety minutes of thaumical aggression and ninety minutes of physical aggression.

Karkaroff barked off a brief lecture on the theory behind the spells that they would be using while they dueled, but Viktor was already familiar with the day’s lesson. He had done research on disabling the senses through spell casting in preparation for the first trial. He kept half an ear open in case Karkaroff mentioned something new, but let his eyes wander just slightly, gazing over toward the castle. There was a small group of people coming down, and it seemed that they were headed straight for Viktor’s class. That probably wasn’t so, but what other business would they have? Were they going into the forest? Unlikely. They weren’t from Beauxbatons, and what group of students would visit the gamekeeper when not for a class?

Forming lines with plenty of distance between pairs, Viktor made sure to keep a spot looking out toward the castle, with his back to the forest. He had an idle curiosity as to the destination of this still unknown pod of Hogwarts students, and he wanted his curiosity satisfied.

Viktor’s attention was drawn back to class once more as the young assistant teacher briefly explained the curative spell that reversed the damage of each of the original curses. Each student who managed to get a successful curse through the defenses of his partner would then have to heal the inflicted wounds. Viktor murmured the words to cure the accursed blindness, deafness, dumbness and leprosy. Though the curses all had separate origins and nuances, the cures were all in the same family with very similar words. Satisfied with his progress ahead of the class, Viktor let his attention wander again, and the next time that the young Bulgarian looked up, it was right into the eyes of Hermione.

He would later muse that it must have been her and her friends when they were still far off, on their way to see the gamekeeper after all. That would be something they could talk about. Did she have classes with that exceptionally large wizard? Was she engaged in some extracurricular project involving magical creatures?

He would later wonder at her expression, trying to puzzle through what it might mean, if it meant anything at all. She wasn’t smiling, but he certainly had been the subject of her attention long before he realized it. Her eyes had been very wide, he thought, and he was vaguely aware of her friends behind her, talking, laughing perhaps.

He would later think a great number of things, some of them unhelpful, but not at the moment. At the moment, Viktor was caught up in her gaze. She was so pretty, so interesting, he liked her so much, and he was seeing her unexpectedly, miraculously in the middle of the day. He was completely transfixed by the very sight of her, his mind blissfully blank.

It was ironic then, that the curse he never saw coming -- once Karkaroff had quietly declared the first round of dueling open -- was the Conjunctivitis Curse. He was blinded immediately and had such mind numbing pain in his eyes that he crumpled to the ground, clutching his head.

Vlad had to pry his hands away to affect his cure and the pain receded, but slowly. When Viktor finally opened his bleary, bloody eyes and glared at his partner, Vlad only smirked.

“Next time,” Vlad murmured to him in Russian, “Stop flirting long enough to duel.”

Viktor punched him in the shoulder. Vlad helped him up anyway.

END.

Title: Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing
Author: Sare Liz
Claim: Viktor/Hermione
Prompt: (04) Clothes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,181
Series: The Amazing Bouncing Ferret
Disclaimer: Characters to JKR. Prompt to Potterverse 100

*

The boys wouldn’t notice of course. Ron was too busy being offended. Harry was too busy being hounded and vilified. And even if they weren’t otherwise occupied, chances are they wouldn’t notice and they certainly wouldn’t be able to put two and two together and reach the appropriate sum of four. Ginny noticed, though, and she could add perfectly.

Hermione went, as a matter of habit, straight from the dinner table to the library table. As such, if she didn’t want to end up in her uniform for the entirety of a long day, and so long as she didn’t have detention later, she changed for dinner. In this she was not alone. The student population of Hogwarts came to dinner in all states of array – if they had a late class, the ties might even still be on, but otherwise jeans and trendy shirts were the way to go. It was a veritable fashion show; one that Hermione and Ginny had scorned and mocked for the last few years. They were among the girls who wanted to look nice, but refused to cater to the whims of fashion fancy. They would wear their jeans and they would wear their shirts and to hell with fashion.

What Ginny had noticed, and what the boys never would, was the particular jeans and shirt set that Hermione had chosen for the evening, as she walked through the Gryffindor Common Room, intent on food.

The two had already had several conversations about jeans – what was comfortable, what was fashionable, and what was just too much. At the Quidditch Cup they had laughed over some of the clothes that Hermione’s mum had given to her for an early birthday gift. There were jeans that were a shade too tight and too low for Hermione’s emotional comfort, as well as several shirts with very reasonable necklines, but that accounted for a body that was seemingly several inches smaller in diameter than Hermione herself was.

And tonight, that was precisely what she was wearing.

Ginny gave her an incredulous look, but instantly jumped up from her group of friends to join Hermione as she ducked out of the portrait hole.

“There something you want to tell me?” Ginny asked as they got to a clear section of corridor.

“Whatever do you mean?” Hermione asked, feigning innocence until the last, but belying it all by plucking at her form-fitting top.

“Look, if you’re going to wear the shirt, you need to stop tugging on the hem. Stand up straight, shoulders back – yes, your breasts show quite well, but that’s the point,” Ginny said quietly, and Hermione was reminded of Mrs. Weasley. Ginny was younger and hipper, but definitely a version of the same.

Hermione swallowed harshly and followed her advice. It wasn’t a big deal. That’s what she kept saying, over and over. People dress like this all the time, and just because she hadn’t ever done so before didn’t mean she’d make a stir. At least, she wouldn’t make a stir with most people. Now, if only she could make a bit of a stir with one particular someone…

“So who is it?” When Hermione was silent, Ginny continued softly, hopping over a trick stair. “You don’t want to hear the names I would guess, so you might as well just tell me now.”

Hermione looked over at her and thought for a moment before speaking. “You need to promise you won’t breathe a word of this.”

Ginny leveled a gaze at her that was a bit creepy. “There are lots of things I never say, Hermione. We’ll add yours to the stack.”

Still, it took her a moment. “Viktor Krum.”

Ginny gave her an incredulous look, screwing up her face in disbelief. “Viktor Krum?” she queried softly. “Seriously? I would have thought he was more Ron’s type than yours.”

Hermione sniggered, her shoulders shaking as they entered into the Great Hall.

“So, he actually talks to you, then? I heard he doesn’t talk to anyone-- No!” Ginny said sharply as Hermione went to her customary side of the table. Grabbing her wrist, Ginny pulled her over. “You’ve got to sit on this side, silly – with me.”

It took Hermione a minute to catch on. From this side of the table she could see the Slytherins, which wasn’t something she attempted at dinner, having already had quite enough of them throughout the day. Of course, it wasn’t only the Slytherins there now. When she looked up, he had already found her, and was watching as she walked down the length of the table and sat with her friend.

“See?” Ginny said as she helped herself to a jacket potato.

“I see,” Hermione responded, watching him watch her for just a moment longer before pulling her eyes away and to her dinner.

“So, he actually talks to you?” Ginny was busy cutting her food into bite-sized pieces, but she didn’t let this deter her questioning in the least.

Hermione felt very awkward at this line of inquiry. It wasn’t that big of a deal, or at least it probably wasn’t. Of course, she rather wanted it to be, which was why she had put on these entirely ridiculous clothes, but chances are he wouldn’t even notice.

Of course, he was looking at her when she came in. This wasn’t the first time they had just sort of… looked at each other, occasionally to his detriment. And there was the odd encounter in the library, and that one very purposeful encounter in the library. “It’s more like we talk to each other,” Hermione responded, determined to limit potential objectification. “But yes, he speaks.”

“What’s he like?”

Hermione melted into a grin at one particular memory, and couldn’t help glancing up at him. He was talking to one of the other boys from Durmstrang, who sat next to him. “He, um….” She trailed off, unable to finish her thought before she turned back to Ginny. “He’s got this really amazing smile. It’s hard to think when he smiles at me.” She looked down into her roast beef and blushed.

“He smiles?” Ginny whispered, delightedly aghast. “He smiles at you? That’s wicked, Hermione! He must really like you. You know he doesn’t smile for anybody else. He certainly didn’t smile up there in that box,” she said, obliquely referencing the first time they’d all met – sort of – at the Quidditch World Cup.

“Well, of course not, I mean, not then. He’d just lost, and he –“ she broke off and continued in a much quieter voice. “He broke his nose, didn’t he? Entitled to be a bit grumpy, I should say.”

Ginny had a huge grin on her face. “All I’m saying is that he smiled at you. You, Hermione Jane Granger, he smiled at you, he’s been talking with you, and now you’re all dressed up to go… to the library. I’m just saying.”

Hermione grinned despite herself, and rolled her eyes. “So, what? What are you ‘just saying’?”

Ginny continued to grin and held her peace, and dinner continued on in a much less interesting fashion once Ron and Harry made their separate ways in.

“Have fun at the library, Hermione,” Ginny muttered as Hermione put her napkin on the table.

“You know me,” Hermione responded as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “I love to learn.”

*

An hour had passed with only a few glances and a few smiles stolen from the silence of the room. Viktor had gotten up several times to go into the stacks, but Hermione hadn’t dared to follow him. Besides the fact that he was studying and she didn’t want to disturb him, it felt a little too much like being a member of his fan club. No, she would just stay at her table and study and that would be fine.

But then he’d never get to appreciate what you’re wearing.

Hermione sighed and chewed on her bottom lip. It was true. If she never got up, how would he know how cute she looked this evening? (For Ginny had declared that she did in fact look ‘cute’ – not a term Hermione would apply to herself under normal circumstances.) He’d never have the chance to see, and then all of her fretting would be for naught. Horrified at that thought, and remembering what her mother had always said about stretching every once in a while, Hermione got up and wandered into Muggle Studies again.

Once in the stacks she clasped her hand over her head and stretched her arms up, holding them there for a moment. She grimaced as her shirt rode even farther up, and the first thing she did when she finished was to pull her shirt back down so it at least touched the waistband of her jeans in some places. Wondering if he would come, and wondering what sort of stretches would be good to do if he didn’t, she turned around – whereupon she was so startled that she let out a tiny yelp and started backwards.

Viktor Krum had been standing right behind her.

“Sorry,” he murmured, his features soft and penitent.

Hermione swallowed thickly and reminded herself that breathing was necessary. They were standing so close – inches apart really – and was it her imagination, or was the boy just radiating heat? She took a step back, and began to babble.

“I was just stretching. You know. Get up and stretch because it’s good for you. Not good to sit for too long, hunched over a book, that’s what my mother always says. Of course, I rarely listen to her when she says it, but there you go.”

She stopped for air, and feeling desperate just decided to pause in general. All of her nervous energy was henceforth transferred to her fingers, which began to twist in her shirt hem. And Viktor was smiling at her again. Maybe really at her this time, and Hermione began to panic. Time to change the subject.

“So, how are you? I mean, are you all right? You got hit with a nasty curse this afternoon. You’re okay, though, right? No permanent damage. I mean, you look good. I mean, well. You look well. You know, alright.”

“Yes,” he said, looking away and beginning to blush slightly. “I am okay.” It looked like he wanted to say more, but decided against it.

“Vere you go, in afternoon?” he asked, instead.

“Oh, Ron and Ginny and I were going down to meet Hagrid.” And be told about the dragons you are going to face, she thought. “We just go there sometimes to hang out. You know, talk. Have tea.” Get introduced to dangerous and deadly creatures. “That sort of thing.”

“You are friends vit this Hagrid?”

Hermione nodded. “He knew Harry from, um, from before. What were you and the other students doing? I mean, this afternoon?”

“That vos class for teaching combat. Ve are dueling vit vands, and fighting vit… body.”

“But you got clobbered.”

Viktor put a hand to the back of his neck and looked down, and Hermione could see what might have been a tiny rueful smile.

“Normally,” he started, looking back up at her from underneath his eyelashes. “Normally I am good vhen ve are dueling. Today,” he said, looking around at the books before looking back and meeting her gaze, “I vos… I do not know vord for it.”

“Distracted?” Hermione offered up in a very small voice.

“Yes. Normally I am good vhen ve are dueling, but today I vos distracted.”

“What were you distracted by?” Hermione asked, seemingly unable to look away from him.

“Pretty girl on vay to have tea vit friend.”

Hermione found herself gasping slightly, a sort of reverse sigh, before she could get out a single, “Oh.” Her fingers were still doing their intricate tango with the hem of her shirt. She watched as Viktor’s eyes dipped down. Her hand stilled the moment his fingertips grazed the length of her thumb.

“You vill be hurting shirt, like that.” His fingertips slid down into her palm as his knuckles brushed past her stomach and made her suck in her breath. Viktor gently pulled her hand away and brought it to his lips. He held it there for a moment as they looked at each other. Without breaking their gaze, he rubbed her knuckles gently back and forth across his lips before he gave one a tiny kiss.

Her hands now free, but her left hand burning, she smiled, emboldened by his caress. “I’m sorry I was a distraction for you.”

“I cannot think of better distraction. But maybe you vant be more? Maybe you vant be friend?”

Her heart was thundering, and it wasn’t friends she was thinking of, but being friends was a lovely place to begin, and end if need be.

“I do want to be your friend, Viktor. So how’s your research coming?”

Viktor smiled, and leaned back on the table behind him as he described his project, gesturing with his hands when words failed him.

END.