Disclaimer: All canon characters, plots and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I make no profit from this story.
Warning: Smut
Pairing: Viktor K/Hermione G
A/N: Dearest Letta - it's been my pleasure to get to know you, and with great joy I bring you this little snippet of some Krum lovin'… Happy birthday!
Until We Meet
Hermione bit back a squeal when the Weasley's tawny owl flew through an open window and dropped a small envelope in her hands. She knew those blocked letters anywhere, and fought a smile at the realization that after two years of correspondence, he'd finally got the hang of spelling her name correctly. His English was nearly perfect by now, though she had no doubt his accent was still thick as nails.
She excused herself quickly from the table of redheads - and Harry - and made her way up the rickety stairs of the Burrow. Safe behind closed doors in the privacy of Ginny's room, Hermione curled her feet beneath her on the bed and gently pried open the flap. Her smile grew wider with every sentence exposed. This summer, it seemed, was destined to get hotter.
Hermione,
I hope this finds you well. I bring great news today. I have received formal invitation from Fleur Delacour for attendance of her upcoming wedding.
I have word that you will be there, of course. When are you not surrounded by the family of red?
Words are sweet, but your presence will be sweeter. I've waited very long to see you again. Wishes do come true.
Until we meet, moyat mayuk skupa.
—Viktor
Hermione placed the letter on the duvet, smoothing the parchment out before reading the note once more. An involuntary sigh of contentment left her lips as she touched the endearing words he'd quilled. She grabbed the letter, holding it against her chest and let herself fall back onto the pillows, shutting her eyes briefly as memory of the handsome Bulgarian floated behind her eyelids.
xx
"I've had a lovely time tonight, Hermoninny," Viktor's husky voice broke the silence of the still night air.
Hermione blushed, eyeing the heels clad on her feet. She had a wonderful night, too, the best she could remember ever having. For one of the very first times in her life, she felt wanted. Hermione Granger was sought after, and beautiful - she was someone's first choice.
"Thank you, Viktor," she whispered.
"What for?"
She shrugged her shoulders, raising her eyes to meet his. He was watching her in wonder, and she didn't give herself any time to think or back down before tilting her face up and pressing her lips against his. She was slow, unsure if she was doing it correctly. She'd never kissed anyone until this moment, but he'd placed his hands around her waist, tugging her closer and moving his mouth over hers.
She felt a fire light somewhere deep within her, and was surprised to find the tiny moans floating around them were her own. She tipped her head to the side, exposing more flesh to the wizard who began trailing open mouth kisses down her neck.
Viktor's hands smoothed down the sides of her dress, fingering the soft material and her delicate curves beneath. Their lips met again, more hungry than before, and it took nearly all of her willpower to put her hands on his chest - his strong, solid chest - and gently push him away.
"Viktor… I can't… Not here," she mumbled, suddenly embarrassed at the lack of contact between them.
He ran his fingertips over her cheek, cradling it softly and gave her a grin. "I understand. You, Hermoninny, are captivating...
"Mione! Can you hear me, Hermione? Honestly—"
xx
She sat up quickly, clutching the parchment tight enough to tear the paper at the interruption of a voice much higher than the one she'd been dreaming of.
"Are you honestly sleeping right now? It's barely ten o'clock!" Ginny whined, flopping down on the bed parallel to her own.
"What? Um… No, sorry. Dozed off, I suppose."
"Mmm. What's that you've got there?" Ginny gestured towards the paper in her hands.
"Nothing, it's ahhh!" Hermione yelped as the younger girl pounced with the reflexes of a great Quidditch player, pulling the parchment from her grasp in one swift movement.
"You, my friend, are a terrible liar."
Hermione reached around Ginny, stretching her arm as far as she could in a failed attempt to retrieve her letter. "I'm not!"
"Really?" Ginny cleared her throat, hopping onto her bed and standing with the parchment held before her like a scroll holding a royal announcement.
"Hermione, I hope this finds you well. I bring you great news today…" the girl trailed off and Hermione watched helplessly as her eyes skimmed back and forth, devouring every last word.
"Viktor Krum. Hermione!" she shrilled. "You're still talking to him and you haven't told me? Bloody hell!" The girl let out a low whistle, and Hermione hid behind her hands, her face flushed bright red.
"I said it's nothing, really… we correspond. So what?"
"Your face tells otherwise."
She sighed, knowing full well that Ginevra Weasley would not back down until Hermione gave up all the dirty details. Not that there were many, though Viktor did get… descriptive… in a letter or two.
Hermione managed to hold it together the duration of her tale, only stuttering over her words slightly with the re-telling of the Yule Ball, the first hand account much more exciting than what anyone would have expected. She was frizzy, little Hermione, after all, courted on the arm of Bulgarian royalty!
What could possibly have happened? Her face warmed again, and she bit her lip at the thought of what her mates would say.
The girls gossiped a while longer, with Ginny giving word to help Hermione look her very best at the wedding. Even better than the Ball, she promised.
xxx
The week passed quickly with Molly Weasley recruiting everyone to get the Burrow and grounds into tip top shape. With everything in perfect order, the only thing left to do was get a well rested night's sleep and prepare themselves for the big day.
Both girls woke early, a full schedule of pampering ahead of them. They exfoliated and lotioned, brushed and curled, and by the time noon chimed from a clock in the corner, they were slipping their dresses into place.
Hermione stood in front of a tall mirror attached to the back of Ginny's door. The dress she'd chosen for the event was made of smooth silk, a beautiful lilac cut to land at mid thigh. The material swished around her legs as she walked, and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't chosen the dress in remembrance of Viktor's hands caressing her years ago.
Ginny fussed with her curls one last time before eyeing herself. The witch wore robes of gold, and somewhere downstairs was Gabrielle - Fleur's younger sister - wearing a matching bridesmaid gown.
Their heels clacked noisily on the old, wooden stairs as they made their way down to greet the gaggle of family, both Weasleys and Delacours, milling about the house. Molly was moving frantically through the kitchen, sweat beads beginning to form on her brow as she slaved over the stove top, bidding ladles and spoons to do her work. She broke from her spell momentarily to give both girls a once over and smiled in approval before shooing them out the door.
Three hours later, vow's had been exchanged, and Fleur Delacour, dressed in a simple gown with a tiara atop her blonde head, officially became the newest Mrs. Weasley. The reception was in full swing, and up until now, Hermione had yet to catch sight of the man she'd spent so much time fantasizing about. Her luck quickly turned at the thought, because just there through the group of wizards ahead stood one Viktor Krum.
She watched him methodically, the crowd seemingly melting away as he skirted around party goers and headed straight for her. Hermione felt like the room was closing, zeroing in, and he was the very handsome target. She tried to calm her breathing to a slower pace and pressed her hands over the pleats of her dress, both smoothing the fabric and wiping any sweat that inevitably began to collect on her nervous palms.
He was there, just in front of her now, and she tucked a curl behind her ear and eyed him through dark lashes. "Viktor," she breathed.
"Hermione," he spoke, and his voice was as velvety as she remembered. "You look ravishing, mila."
She cursed herself silently for blushing at the words. He wasn't shy with compliments by any means, but having him so close to her yet again was… intoxicating.
"And you," she began, eyeing his form appreciatively, "you look… wow."
His laugh was rich and deep and shot straight to her core. After retrieving drinks, the pair sat in comfortable silence, enjoying one another's company. They laughed and talked - she was right, his english was nearly perfect! - and after some time, the mood of the reception changed as the music picked up its pace.
Viktor reached for her, bending slightly as he placed a kiss on the back of her hand, sending tingles up her arm and then, to her surprise, pulled her onto the dance floor. They spun and dipped, twisted and shuffled until Hermione's feet ached from the movement and cheeks burned from smiling so much.
They rocked in circles, Hermione held tight against his chest as the soft tones of the slow song drifted to a close. He whispered, his head leaning against hers, "What say we find somewhere a bit quieter?"
Hermione stilled for a moment, taking in his words and reading into them much more than he probably intended. She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and met his eyes. "I'd like that."
She scanned the crowd, noting that Ron and Harry were preoccupied with what appeared to be a few witches from Beauxbatons while Ginny spun wildly with Luna on the dance floor. She grabbed Viktor's hand and ducked out of the tent before she could change her mind. Eyeing the lawn, she contemplated where they should go. Decision made, she pulled him off to the left, just beyond the garden where Arthur's shed stood tall.
Hermione laughed at Viktor's expression when she pulled her wand to unlock the door. "It's okay. You'll love this."
He followed her reluctantly, though his expression lit up when the room did. The inside of the shed looked like a thrift shop, packed with muggle furniture and trinkets galore. She explained an item or two as they moved through the room, and when they'd reached the back of the building, she toed the grass nervously, waiting for Viktor's response.
Before them, in the depths of the shed, sat a lovely chaise. Hermione knew it was there because Ron had showed it to her the month prior, knowing she would appreciate the victorian styled piece. It was quite comfortable, as she recalled, and she couldn't stop her mind from wandering, wondering what it may be like to lay on it, snog on it, fu—"
Her thoughts were interrupted as Viktor spun her on the spot, backing her up until her calves hit the chair. She buckled, letting her body drop onto the plush cushion and wasted no time, pulling him down with her.
There kisses were fervent, and she hummed in pleasure when he hooked an arm under her thigh, hitching one leg up against his hip. His hand trailed up the smooth skin, and she was so lost in concentration that she forgot to feel nervous about his touch.
"Hermione," he whispered, the word almost choked with the sound of self restraint. "You think you're ready?" She watched his lips move, hungry to taste him again as her fingers trailed along the waistband of his trousers.
She smiled softly and matched his quiet tone. "I've been thinking about this since we had to say goodbye two years ago, Viktor. I won't let you get away from me again." He grinned in return, pushing a few wayward curls away from her eyes and stroked her lower lip with the pad of thumb.
"More beautiful than I remember," he breathed. Viktor lifted himself to his feet, pulling Hermione to sit and reached around to lower the zipper on her gown. She sat in nervous awe, her breath coming out in pants and willed her blush to disappear when he pushed the lilac material down her frame. She lifted herself enough to pull the dress away completely, and let out a breath before meeting his eyes with as much confidence as she could exude.
She thanked Merlin that she'd let Ginny convince her to wear pretty knickers that day. Viktor had those knickers in his hand now, tossing them to the side and eyeing her as if he'd like to devour her whole.
Her eyes widened when his trousers were out of the way, and she gave herself a fleeting moment to panic because Godric, that's big!
Viktor lowered himself to meet her lips, swiping her mouth gently to grant access. She complied, melting a little when his tongue skated across her own.
She cried out in surprise when he slipped a hand between her thighs, rubbing slow circles across her folds and dipped one, two fingers inside, twisting them to stretch her ever so slightly. It was unlike any experience she'd ever had because who was she kidding, Hermione Granger didn't hook up.
Viktor's eyes were closed, his mouth parted slightly, and Hermione gripped his shoulder, squeezing lightly when he hit her just right.
"Tell me yes, skupa," He moaned. "Say yes."
Her eyes darkened at the sound of his want for her. Her! She was as ready as she'd ever be, so she nodded, jerky movements and finally croaked out a loud yes because if he didn't go now she would surely burst.
With her word, he titled his hips up slightly, positioning his body before pressing forward and entering her in one fluid motion.
She cried out, blinded momentarily by the shooting pain she should have expected. He stilled, undoubtedly worried he'd hurt her, but she kissed his jaw and whispered her comforts. Soon the tweaking ache became a slow burn as his strokes moved from controlled, languid to fast and erratic.
Hermione assumed he was close, and she wrapped her arms around his bulky frame, running her nails along the muscles in his back. It felt wonderful, truly, but she still wasn't quite sure what she should do.
She kissed his lips as he finished, and they both lay there spent, content to stay hidden in Arthur Weasley's shed while the rest of the world danced their cares away.
After they were both cleaned and dressed, making sure not a hair was out of line, they made their way slowly across the Burrow lawn hand in hand. When they re-entered the tent, Hermione caught Ginny's eye, and the twinkle she saw there was a sure sign she knew what was up.
No sooner had their blissful moment been shared, chaos erupted. The guests watched in confusion as the patronus of Kingsley Shacklebolt swept through the area, demanding all attention.
"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."
The volume of the tent rose tremendously as whispers turned to shouting, and soon Death Eaters were popping in as spells flew past their heads.
Hermione knew what she had to do. Find Ron and Harry, but her heart was breaking in this moment and she knew she had to move quickly. She grabbed Viktor by the lapels of his blazer, yanking him down roughly to press her lips to his. She was frantic, desperate and prayed he knew how much she truly cared.
"I'm sorry. I have to go…" She rushed, turning away as shouts from her Wizards came just behind her.
Viktor reached out, whipping her around to pull her into a bone crushing embrace. He pressed his lips to her hair, temple, and finally her mouth once more before whispering in her ear and pushing her away, turning on the spot and disappearing, pop!
She touched her fingers to her lips, eyes swimming as the sounds in the room turned to static. She was vaguely aware that Ron had grabbed her wrist, tugging her towards Harry where all three began their descent into darkness.
"Until we meet."
moyat mayuk skupa = my little darling
mila = dear