FIC: Fascinating Goblins

Happy Birthday Inell! Yay!

I have chosen to finish this story instead of read for class, and so now that I have done so, I'm going to cram lunch and reading, and life will return to normal. When I get a chance, I'll x-post this story to viktorhermione and potterverse100, and update the prompt table.

To those on my flist that I've not gotten back to, soon. ::hugs:: Thank you for your patience!

Title: Fascinating Goblins
Author: Sare Liz
Claim: Viktor/Hermione
Prompt: (06) Other Schools
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1377
Series: The Amazing Bouncing Ferret
Disclaimer: Characters to JKR. Prompt to potterverse100.
Notes: Dedicated to inell, for her birthday. Happy Birthday!
Thank you for the beta, ladykes!
Check out the rest of my potterverse prompts here.

*

They weren’t making eyes at each other. Such activities were juvenile and to be avoided, in Hermione’s estimation. The two of them just happened to look up from their work, occasionally, and just as occasionally their eyes happened to meet. When that happened, of course they smiled, and such contact was brief, as one didn’t wish to stare. And so if the eyes tended to dart around a bit before glancing over again, and before returning once more to their academics, who could fault them? Who, indeed.

Fault or no, apparently a pretty, dark-haired Beauxbatons girl wasn’t reading the subtext of the situation correctly, or else she plainly didn’t care. Hermione’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly when the Gryffindor noticed the unaccountable behavior exhibited by the girl from that other school. The French girl had sat down directly in front of Viktor at his table. She brought with her neither book nor parchment and quill, but proceeded to carry on a quiet one-sided conversation with the taciturn Bulgarian.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed on the girl’s back, watching as the other girl leaned ever forward over the table toward him, now gesturing something. Swallowing thickly, the young British girl returned to her work. It was none of her business, anyway, who Viktor spoke to. Hermione applied herself doubly to her History of Magic essay. It was fascinating, after all, just how often the Goblins tended to rebel. One had to wonder what kept them so calm at present. It couldn’t just be all that gold at Gringotts. They couldn’t be that greedy, could they?

She was terribly engrossed in her very fascinating essay, and was pointedly ignoring the fact that the girl was still sitting with Viktor, still flirting outrageously with him, and still annoyingly, alluringly French (in that way that only the Gallic can truly pull off), when the most interesting thing happened – not that she cared, of course. Viktor muttered a terse something to the Beauxbatons girl and left the table. He left his table, and came to Hermione’s, sitting down in front of her.

Of course, he could do whatever he wanted, couldn’t he? He could flirt with the French girls if he liked. He could have a fan club that followed him around the castle grounds. He could sit at whatever library table he wanted to sit at. Hermione didn’t care, and she would just keep writing, because after all, the Goblin Rebellion of 1882 was just bloody fascinating. It was riveting, really.

Even as single-mindedly academic as she was purportedly being, Hermione couldn’t help but notice – notice officially, honestly, seriously – when Viktor got up again, only to kneel down next to her. She straightened up from her hunched over position and fiddled with her quill, avoiding his gaze as eagerly as she had sought it earlier. He was quiet, waiting perhaps, but Hermione’s eyes were trained hard and fast on her own fingers, still fidgeting.

And then his hand lay gently over hers, his forearm draped over her papers and books. Warmth radiated from him, his hand softer and smoother than she would have expected. “Hermione,” he called to her in a whisper, the pronunciation of her name odd and melodic.

When she finally met his eyes, she was completely unable to look away. There was some sort of wonderful, inexplicable promise in his eyes, and she couldn’t figure out what it was, but it felt like contentment.

“Are you upset?” His voice was impossibly soft.

Upset? Had she been upset? She couldn’t quite recall, and for just the briefest moment, she didn’t want to do any sort of self-reflection at all. Just now, she wanted to continue staring at Viktor, thanks. She didn’t need to do it for too much longer, just a few days would do.

“I did not invite her to be sitting vit me.”

Her? Who was ‘her’, Hermione mused. That Beauxbatons bitch, she thought, and it came back with a rush. Without thinking further, her eyes darted away from Viktor and she leveled a glare at the foreign student two tables away.

Said student was watching the couple, and when Hermione came so violently out of her reverie, the other rolled her eyes, gathered her dignity and left the library altogether.

“You hear vot she say to me?”

“No,” Hermione replied with no small amount of passion. “And I don’t need to know, either.”

“But I vant to tell.” His thumb was moving gently back and forth along her hand. He waited to say more until she visibly gave in. “She ask me go to Yule Ball vit her.”

Once again, Hermione couldn’t look away, but it was a different sort of feeling, this time. There was a knot in her chest, and butterflies in her stomach. “What did you say,” she asked, swallowing harshly.

Viktor cocked his head to the side, and smiled a teeny, tiny smile. “No, thank you,” he replied in a sing-song voice that was undoubtedly kinder and gentler than the one that had been used at the time. Hermione’s ire melted away and she laughed softly. The air between them was so much clearer now, and Hermione hadn’t even realized how fraught with tension the situation was until it was over.

In the comfortable silence, Hermione gazed down at Viktor. He wasn’t looking at her anymore. She stared at the top of his head and wondered if he didn’t get cold in those Northern winters with only a tiny layer of stubble to call hair. It seemed impractical, really, and by all accounts Durmstrang seemed to be a practical place.

Viktor’s hand was still resting on top of hers, and his thumb rubbed back and forth, breaking into her thoughts about the practicality of Durmstrang requirements, and the small movement was the herald to something larger. Viktor raised his head and met her gaze.

“Hermione,” he started softly, “vill you go to Yule Ball vit me?”

Her heart was flip-flopping. Was she breathing? She probably ought to breathe. In, out, breathing is good. Answer. She also needed to answer him. Breathing, and answering, both were necessary. Hermione smiled and looked away. “I’d love to, Viktor.” Breathing without shaking would be even better.

His voice was still quiet, and his body seemed exceedingly still. “Is that nice vay of saying no,” he paused, and when she suddenly turned back to him, herself somewhat alarmed, he continued, “…Or yes?”

“Yes,” she replied immediately and emphatically. “It means yes. Yes, I’ll go with you. Yes.”

“Okay,” Viktor said, grinning. After a moment, he sobered slightly. “So, Harry Potter not ask you? I thought that maybe…” he trailed off, looking questioningly up at her.

Hermione laughed a little. “Of course I would have gone with him if he’d asked me, but just as friends. I mean, we couldn’t possibly have gone as anything else – I mean, I don’t think he’s noticed I’m a girl.”

Viktor took one of her hands in his and held it before him, gently caressing her fingers. “I notice you are girl.” Still looking at her, he raised her hand a bit and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. The spot tingled as he lowered her hand, but kept it between his own. “And I do not ask you so ve go as friends. You understand vot I say?”

Hermione was trying to keep from actually shaking. It was just that sort of day.

“I think so,” she said evenly, to her own surprise. “You mean that you don’t want to go just as friends, but rather as a couple. As people who have started,” and here Hermione hesitated, partially because she just couldn’t get the word out. “Dating,” she finally said.

“Yes. For you, is okay?”

He had such pretty eyes. She just stared into his pretty, dark eyes and smiled, and slowly nodded her head. He asked if it was alright for him to study with her, at this table, and when he was off gathering his books to move them, Hermione took a very deep breath. Part of her wanted to shriek in happiness. An intelligent, cute, interesting boy had asked her to the Yule Ball! And now they were dating! She was dating Viktor!

She couldn’t wait to tell Ginny.

END.