FIC: Passing Notes, 3/4

Title: Passing Notes, in four parts
Author: Sare Liz
Series: Firebolt Ring
Pairing: HG/VK
Disclaimer: Not Mine.
Warning: Rated PG-13 for some double entendre and flutterings in the stomach. It’s strangely contiguous with both GoF book and movie (does this count for the heresy of syncretism?). And yet, this is possibly OOC for Viktor. Not that we have a heck of a lot to go on, but I’m betting there’s more than one story behind his glowering façade.

Notes: So, this is my first sojourn in this fandom. I’m so very excited. And I have no beta, yet. Perhaps this will become very clear to you as you read on. If anyone is willing to take on that heinous task, let me know.




*

Viktor spread his cloak on the ground and cast a warming charm on it. He then set his Firebolt on the far edge and when he had turned around to offer her his hand to help her sit, she was already sitting down, looking up at him, smiling.

Just further evidence that his life never went according to plan.

He had no idea what happened when she passed the pumpkins, but it was quite clear that something had. She’d been backlit from the dim light of the castle, but there wasn’t anyone else in the area – that much he’d checked on. Maybe she tripped. He wasn’t going to ask, not if she didn’t bring it up first, but he did wonder.

And then, having her on his broom… For this Viktor thanked the God of his parents and grandparents. He had no idea it was going to be like that. He’d had dreams like that, except with less clothing.

Which was a crazy way to think, despite what they say about English girls at home. He wanted something more than a quick tumble. He wanted to find someone. The sort of someone you’re proud to take home and introduce to your parents. The sort of someone who sees who you are beyond what you do. The sort of someone who brings out the best in you. The sort of someone for whom you are her someone, too.

Of course, he also wanted a quick tumble. Or a long series of them, with her, starting now, and pray God never ending. Oh, what a beautiful image that would be. The idea was so strong, Viktor could taste it.

He wouldn’t, of course. That knowledge alone acted like cold water on his libido. Oh, but temptation was there, and her name was Hermione.

Which reminded him…

“I have request for you,” he murmured in the darkness, as they sat looking out over the lake.

“Yes?”

“I teach you not to be afraid vhen flying, you teach me something also?”

“What did you have in mind?”

Oh God. She has the most delightfully suspicious look. Breathe, Viktor, breathe.

“Teach me to pronounce your name correctly.”

All suspicion disappeared as she threw back her head and laughed. It was a truly joyous noise. “Sure. Which bit troubles you, Hermione or Granger?”

And now it comes to it, the really embarrassing bit.

“Granger, I haff. It is your first name I cannot create.”

“Hermione?” she said, her own name slipping off her tongue. “Yes, I’m still not sure what my parents were thinking with that name. I mean, who names their children after Greek demi-gods? You have no idea what sort of teasing I got in school before Hogwarts. It was terrible. I…” she trailed off.

“Anyway. Here, I’ll say it slowly. Her-my-oh-nee.”

It made sense in his head. Viktor muttered to himself several times, trying to get his tongue around the word, to no avail.

She said it again, slowly, and he tried again, under his breath. And again. And yet again.

“Is no good,” he said, frustrated and slightly embarrassed.

“Oh, come on,” she said, touching him for the first time since they’d gotten off the broom. She wrapped her arm around his and leaned closer, into his side. His heart did a little dance. “It can’t be as bad as all that.”

“Is bad. Is not correct. Is not how you say.”

“Try me.”

Viktor was having a cross-cultural moment, he was certain. Try her? Perhaps it was his high state of hormones, but he could construe only one meaning for that phrase. And he didn’t rate high the possibility that he was getting propositioned so early on in their relationship. In the end, he just asked.

“Vhat do you mean, try you?”

“I mean, just, go ahead and practice with me.”

This was possibly more intimidating a prospect than realizing that she’d seen him after the finals – angry, petulant, broken, bloody, and having just lost the most important endeavor in his life. How could she respect him if he couldn’t pronounce her name? She’d just laugh, and then he’d be consigned to the vapid cows and slytherin sycophants for the rest of the year.

“Viktor, it’s okay,” she said softly.

He looked over to her and was momentarily humbled beyond words. Viktor traced the line of her cheekbone with his eyes and breathed in.

Breathing out, he uttered her name, slowly and deliberately. It came out like rich, thick honey on his tongue.

“It’s beautiful,” she said with an awe he didn’t fully understand. He did recognize the starry look in her eyes, however. It was the same look some of his fans got when he signed something for them. For the first time, however, it was received with joy. Still…

“Is… Is not—“ But he was cut off.

“Hey. It’s my name. And I give you permission to pronounce it just like that, okay? That is now one of the officially recognized pronunciations.”

Viktor nodded, and contemplated a smile. Oh, he really liked her.

“Say it again?”

His hand reached out to tuck a stray lock behind her ear. His fingertips lingered where his eyes had so recently traveled, and he breathed in their closeness. “Hermione,” he said, knowing perfectly well that his accent was totally mucking it up, but for the first time, not caring in the least.

Viktor stayed like that for a long moment, before breaking the tension and looking out onto the lake, his gaze steadily avoiding his ship.

“Tell me about who you are, Hermione.”

She laughed and rested her head on his shoulder. “What do you want to know?”

“Who are your friends? What do you like? Where are you from?”

And he listened. Viktor listened to the oddest tales, half told and disjointed about teeth-doctors, the boy who lived, a magical house, murderers who were innocent, professors who were nasty, incompetent, or evil, dragons, basilisks, hippogryphs, trolls, giant spiders, memorizing spell books, knowledge of the dark lord, and all tinged with hope for the future.

When his watch chimed from a pocket, he found himself disappointed, which he supposed was a very good sign. He wanted to know more.

“I guess we should be getting back then?” she said, but made no indication that she’d be willing to move, or let him do so.

Viktor breathed in the moment, strangely worried that it might not occur again. What if she didn’t care? What if he didn’t make a good enough impression? What if she thought he was just some strange foreigner? Oh, God, what if she already had a boyfriend? All of her other friends were boys, after all. What if she didn’t realize what his intensions were?

“I vould not vant you to be late. You might not trust me to be… honorable in future. You might say no to me, next time.”

Viktor’s heart nearly stopped when she took her head off his shoulder. But when she spoke it was very clear that she hadn’t moved far.

“Are you intending to ask me out again?”

“Depends,” he said, staring resolutely at the lake. “Do you already haff boyfriend?”

Hermione snorted. “If I did, this evening wouldn’t have been nearly as enjoyable as it’s been. No,” she clarified. “I do not have a boyfriend.”

He nodded, almost to himself. That would do for this evening. He didn’t have the courage or the energy to try and declare his intensions just now.

He turned his head and found that Hermione was actually quite close. If he stuck out his tongue, he’d probably hit her nose. Not that he was deeply contemplating sticking out his tongue and hitting her nose, but it was better than the alternative, which was a deep desire to kiss her.

Which was a bad idea.

No kissing on the first date. His mother would skin him alive if she knew.

“Ve should go, Hermione.”

“Yea,” she replied, staring back at him, unmoving.

Finally he broke her gaze and rose, holding out his hand to her as well. Putting his cloak back on and mounting his broom, he held out a hand for her and this time she mounted with much greater ease, sliding herself back to nestle into him.

Viktor had to bite back the groan. Visions of cold showers shifted to a frigid late night swim in the lake, which turned into a co-ed swim in the lake, which lead back to more groans trying to leak out. He held her tight and kicked off the ground instead, guiding the broom a little faster along the other side of the lake, making up some time so she would not be late.

Hearing once more a slightly frightened whine, he bent his head to speak softly in her ear.

“Shh. Close your eyes, Hermione, and feel the vind on your face, feel how fast your body moves through the air.”

Just like last time, Viktor could feel her body relax slowly, but unlike last time, it was a short trip. Before he knew it, they were at an open door near Gryffindor tower.

Stopped and hovering, Viktor had yet to move his legs, and was incredibly satisfied to hear a mue of discontent at the apparent end of their date. Still, he let go of the broom and sat up straight. He did not, however, immediately let go of his hold around her waist. He just loosened it a bit.

“Did you enjoy the effening?” he asked quietly from behind.

Hermione turned slightly one way and then the other, apparently satisfied with neither.

“Hold on,” she said, and then took his bracing arm in a deathlock with both hands and swung one leg over until she was effectively sitting across his lap, ostensibly on the broom.

For a moment he couldn’t breathe. It was one thing – rather a forward thing in itself – to be riding tandem on a racing broom. It was a whole other thing for him to be fully embracing her while she was facing him, and while they both happened to be sitting on a broom. The dream actually had looked something like this.

She didn’t seem to be aware of his moral quandary, however.

“Okay. It’s hard to talk to you if I can’t see you. Anyway,” she continued, her voice softening slightly. “I did enjoy the evening. Very much,” she added with a smile.

Her hands were burning marks into his bicep, he was certain.

“Did you?” she asked, actually looking uncertain. Did she really not know?

“Yes,” he said at last, his eyes not leaving hers. “Very much.”

Her full smile was a beautiful and infectious thing. Before he knew it, she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a rather enormous hug.

“Thank you, Viktor,” she whispered in his ear before she slid off the broom and bounded into the castle.

*