Potterverse 100 Prompt: #

Title: Like Waves Against The Rocks

Author: Sare Liz

Claim: Viktor/Hermione

Prompt: (10) Quills

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Prompt from Potterverse 100. Characters the property of JKR and associated persons and corporations.

Notes: This scene occurs in the last week of November, during year four, just after the first trial in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Not continuous with Firebolt Ring.

The scratch of the quill on parchment was not the only sound in the room. There was also the sound of paper being handled, leaves turned in large tomes, in smaller texts, a sheet shifting from the front of a pile to the back. There was the sound of cloth shifting against cloth, the sound of chairs and tables being leaned upon and settled into. There was the sigh of a student who was thinking, trying to understand how this new piece of information was going to fit in with what they wanted to get out of life. And there was the sound of whispering, of voices conspiring to a futile end.

The scratch of the quill was the most mesmerizing, though, the non-committal drone that could lull you into a meditative calm that might lead equally into sleep as insight; however his inclination just now was not towards sleep.

Sometimes she sat at the tables in the center of the library. It was right under the librarian's nose and was a place that brooked no conversation, but that was a gift in more ways than one for him. He sat in her line of sight, though she rarely looked up from her work. On other days his concentration was better and he would be looking up but rarely, but not today. Today it was either concentrate on the mesmeric scratching of her quill across her notes, or contemplate the possibility of putting his own through the tongues of those who refused to leave him alone. See how well they speak of him then.

Viktor scowled down at his book on the violent proclivities of the merfolk. The odd water beasts were really only afraid of one thing: sharks.

Those girls that follow him around were like sharks. They swam well, but it was dangerous to provoke them, and since the Yule Ball had been announced, it was as if they could smell the blood in the water.

Viktor could feel himself tensing again, and tuned back into the scratching of her quill. Uneven, but rhythmic, like waves lapping against rocks, the water splashing back onto itself and washing back out to sea. Like the lake outside, the water lapping at the hull of the ship, the creaks and groans that put him to sleep each night. Scratching, scratching, scratching… Until it stopped.

He focused his eyes to find her staring up at him. He just continued to look unabashedly, and now into her eyes as they met his own. She raised her eyebrows in an expression that clearly conveyed how odd she thought he was, and how confused she was at such attention. Without even realizing it, Viktor smiled in response. Just a small smile, a sustained quirk of his lips, but it reached his eyes, and soon, very soon, her expression fell slowly back into neutrality, and then, into a smile of her own.

Hermione quickly ducked her head down and tucked a curl behind her ear, but before Viktor could even consider looking away, her eyes returned to him, even as she faced her work. Her smile was back, and this time it seemed to carry hope. He wondered if she knew it.

END.