Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter; I do not, nor am I making any money off of this.
A/N: This is the result of my first spin with the random pairing generator! Enjoy, and please read and review!
"Distract Krum? But…" George tried to protest.
"No buts!" Fred shook his finger at his twin. "I know he's been hanging around to ask Hermione to the ball… I have to ask her first!"
"Well, what should I say?" George asked frantically.
"I don't care, ask for his autograph," Fred rolled his eyes. "Now, go on. I don't want him anywhere near when I ask her."
Taking a deep breath, George walked over to the table where Hermione and Krum were sitting... and right past it.
"Bloody hell," Fred sighed, rolling his eyes.
How on earth am I going to get Krum to go for a walk with me? George sighed. Oh my, that sounded… interesting.
Just then an idea struck, and George headed back to the table, leaning down by Hermione before whispering in her ear.
"Would you mind making yourself scarce? I want to ask Vicky to the ball."
With a startled squeak, a very red-faced Hermione grabbed her books and ran - right near Fred, and he stepped forward just in time for her to crash into him.
"Oh!"
"Easy there," Fred said with a smile, one hand catching Hermione's, the other moving to her back to keep her from falling backwards.
Hermione blinked, and felt warm and safe.
"Thank you, Fred." She spoke breathlessly.
"Anytime," Fred told her. They just looked at each other for a minute… Then Hermione remembered his arms were around her.
"You - you're…"
"I do believe I am." He smiled at her, and her heart did a little flip.
"Oh," Hermione said faintly.
"Oh indeed."
Meanwhile, George sat down at Hermione's spot and began to whistle.
"Wot did you say to her?" Krum asked suspiciously.
"Nothing!" George smiled.
"I doubt that vary much," Krum said, with a light snort. "You are one of those pranksters."
"I have a name, you know," George said, desperate to keep Krum from going after Hermione.
"Really."
"George," the boy offered a hand, and slowly, Krum took it. George hid a gasp as Krum squeezed his hand strongly.
"Vhy do you want to talk with me?"
George shrugged, nervous that Krum hadn't released his hand yet.
"To meet the man behind the mask, I guess."
"I wear no mask."
"Sure you do. You're famous, but your public personality isn't who you really are. At least I hope not. Somewhere beneath those brooding features and perpetual scowl, there's got to be a sweet, sensitive guy who just likes pina coladas and getting caught in the rain."
Krum raised an eyebrow, and slowly released George's hand.
"So who are you then?" George went on.
Krum was silent, then slowly, his face shifted - and George realized, with delight, that he was smiling.
"I am Viktor. I do not like pina coladas - I prefer whisky - but I have never been caught in the rain. I love to fly, but I don't like quidditch."
Inwardly, Viktor wondered why he'd told this boy the truth.
"Well. I'm George, and I... I love cheesecake."
"Chocolate cheesecake?"
"Not opposed to it, but its not my favorite."
"And the name of your brother?"
"Fred."
"Name of your boyfriend?"
"Currently single -" George flushed suddenly. He'd just implied to someone that he'd had, or would be open to having a boyfriend - when he hadn't told anyone but Fred before now.
Viktor grinned.
"George… do you like to dance?" He leaned forward, and George's heart began to race.
"I - I - yes."
"Good. Come with me to Yule."
"The Yule Ball?" George asked faintly.
Viktor looked at him intently, and George shivered at the way his eyes smoldered at him.
"Well - all right then. But we should really get to know each other first!" George said, his voice high.
"Hogsmeade. Tomorrow. Great Lake at nine." Viktor's voice was low and commanding, and damn if George didn't secretly love that.
Viktor eyed the room - nobody was close by, or watching…
George gasped as the Bulgarian grabbed his chin and pulled him into a short, rough kiss - complete with tongue and a bit of teeth. It was entirely pleasing, and George thought his brain might just short out.
"Mmm?" He asked breathlessly, when it was over.
"Good night, George." Viktor stood, hefting his bag over his shoulder, and walked away.
George watched him go, smiling as he brought his fingers to his lips.
"Good night, Viktor." He whispered.