Hi everyone! What a week it has been. Work has been crazy this week and I'm trying to ease myself into a post-maternity schedule, so that's meant I've not been able to write during the day which is when I got the bulk of the content done. I hope you enjoy this chapter; it's an almost entirely non-canon one and I've found true pleasure in 'filling in the gaps' of GoF when nothing happened in the book.

We've had lots of fluff… but as a treat, it's (very) Mature time. It made me laugh to write some of these scenes; I'm sure you'll see why. C19, another mammoth chapter.

'So, what do you think, will your parents let you go?' Ginny rolled onto her front and continued to stare at Hermione from the end of her bed. 'A summer holiday with Mr Tall, Dark and Dreamy? I've never been more jealous of you Hermione.'

Hermione rested her head on her knees and giggled into her pyjamas. It surely would be a summer to remember if she was allowed to go. Her parents had been warmed up to the idea of Viktor when she returned from her internship, but they hadn't been officially together at that time, so she suspected her Dad thought they'd been remaining a metre apart at all times while they 'courted'. Mum hadn't been so naive which is why Hermione had felt such a strong desire to tell her when things changed with Viktor… and eventually why she had to reach out and ask her about sex. She'd written to her Mum almost every day over the last few months and Jean Granger was growing almost as infatuated with Viktor and his grand gestures as Hermione was; from his Yule Ball date proposal to his Valentine's Day adventure, Mum got all the juicy details… except for the bits when Viktor was handsy with her. That might've ruined all chances she had of alone time with him over summer. Alone time… what would it be like? To truly not have to worry about being discovered and to not always be on their guard? Would they… take the next step?

Hermione coloured and Ginny raised a curious eyebrow.

'Mum wrote back. I want Viktor to meet them, convince them in person that he's a good guy. I don't think Dad would let me portkey to Bulgaria without seeing Viktor in the flesh.'

'And?' Ginny prompted.

'Mum suggested he join us for the camping trip we had planned for the first week of the holidays. Mum'll spend the next few months trying to butter Dad up… she's on my side, but I think I might've worried her with that letter I sent her last year.' Hermione said awkwardly.

'The one where you asked her about-'

'-Yes!' Hermione interrupted before Ginny could say it. 'That one.'

'You're a hopeless case, Hermione. You can't tell me you're still embarrassed by sexual stuff? You and Viktor have been together for, what, seven months? You've not done, seen and touched everything in that time?'

Hermione scooted back on her bed until she hit the frame of her four-poster. Her cheeks were aflame and she blocked her eyes with her curls. She'd subtly hinted to Ginny about certain events, but apparently her subtlety had been impossible to pick up on.

'Hermione Granger!' Ginny sounded scandalised. 'You've been holding out on me!'

Ginny threw herself at Hermione. Attempting to grab at her hair, limbs or clothes, she wasn't sure, but Ginny seemed determined to hold her down and force the information out of her. They were both giggling, but Hermione's was more out of mortification than anything.

'You tell me everything! Right now! What's he like in bed? Please tell me the world's best seeker is packing down there. Is he sweet or super dirty? I bet he's got really muscular legs, hasn't he? Ugh, Hermione. What about the bum? I've always thought Quidditch robes didn't reveal enough on that front.'

Hermione squealed and buried her face in her hands again. Every inch of her face, neck and chest was burning with embarrassment.

'Well.. I don't know.' She said at last when Ginny released her, whining in exasperation. She hadn't held out on Ginny because she'd wanted to… she just couldn't answer those questions. 'I've never seen him naked… or even his… you know.'

Ginny's answering gasp was comical.

'What?'

'We're not abstinent or anything.' Hermione said hurriedly. 'We've done stuff. It's just he takes the lead and he's so focused on me that he forgets about… himself.'

'Hermione. Let me tell you one thing I'm certain about boys. They do not forget about themselves. Poor guys probably had blue balls for the last seven months.'

'Blue… what?'

Ginny shooed Hermione out of the way to make space for her. Perching beside her she shook her head dramatically and patted Hermione's hand.

'Ok, let's talk about what real boys are like. The bit of Viktor that he's hiding from you.'

Hermione sighed and opened her mental notebook. She wasn't going to like this.

…

It was just like he'd said. In the days following the second task Viktor garnered more attention than ever before. However, this time around Hermione was rooted squarely in the spotlight beside him. Her being the person who he would miss the most (she'd found out afterwards that Ludo had announced that little nugget to the whole crowd) had thrown fuel into the fire and rumours were now spreading wildly around the school. To the outsider Viktor seemed to take it in his stride, however, Hermione saw through the facade. The shield that he threw up against prying eyes had taken a permanent hit from the events of Valentine's Day and he was spending longer in the library with her to avoid his persistent fan club. She'd tried to coax the reason for his jumpiness from him once or twice while they studied together, to tell him she wasn't intimidated by the attention, but every time Viktor would quickly change the topic. Deep down, she sensed that the whispers, stares and pointing bothered him, and now they had taken a decidedly nasty turn.

'She's Viktor Krum's girlfriend?' She heard a sixth-year Slytherin scoffing to her friend as she and Viktor lined up for Ancient Runes together.

It hurt her to know he heard them mocking her. She didn't want him to think, to know, that she was a black sheep at Hogwarts. She was never going to be popular, nor the prettiest witch in her year, and for so long she'd been content just being Hermione Granger, best friend to Ron and Harry. Now Viktor had shown her a world of possibilities, made her feel special, and so she felt her classmates contempt more deeply.

'Ignore them.' Viktor said softly and placed a possessive arm around around her. 'I am proud to be your boyfriend.'

That wasn't the last time someone's snide comment stopped her in her tracks. Hermione stuck close to Harry and Ron as they navigated the corridors between classes, distracting herself from the inquisitive looks being thrown in her direction by turning the conversation to Sirius whenever she could. Harry at least understood what it was like to be the object of everyone's interest - to meet with scorn and ridicule at every turn of the corner.

The only relief she got was in the Gryffindor common room, where Ron's tall tales about how they'd ended up in the water managed to enthral even those who were usually more preoccupied with asking Hermione random questions about Viktor. Just as Ana had said, the boys were worse than the girls. She didn't want to hear one more can you get me his autograph?

'It'll pass.' Ginny slouched in an armchair by the fire as Ron started on a new version of his underwater kidnapping experience. 'As it always does at this bloody school.'

Hermione was perched on the floor watching Ron. Now that he was sharing in Harry's limelight he'd eased up a little on his persecution of her and beckoned occasionally for her to corroborate his story.

'It's just because he's famous.' She said morosely.

'You can't let it get to you, Hermione. It'll eat away at you until you can't bare it.'

She knew that, of course she knew that. It was just tough to witness Viktor suffering… and to have the school turn against her. It was mostly teasing, but it played on her mind and fed the self-doubt inside her. Would Viktor wake up one day and realise he could be dating the Fleur Delacours of the wizarding world? He had it all, fame, talent, fortune (she assumed) and a lineage that went back as far as Malfoy's; she'd come across mention of his slavic ancestors while researching evidence for a History of Magic essay.

'You're right Ginny. I'm just being silly.'

But it certainly didn't feel that way.

…

February twenty-eighth dawned bright and dry and after an early breakfast nearly the whole school made their way down to the Quidditch pitch to watch Fred and George's impromptu tournament unfold.

The spirits of all the students, and even the staff, were lifted by seeing everyone decked out in their house colours again, old rivalries and alliances resurfacing with full force. Amongst the swathes of scarlet, green, blue and yellow floating down the lawn towards the Quidditch pitch was the odd Bulgaria jersey with Viktor's name marked on the back in thick black letters. It was as if the persistent, simmering stress of the Triwizard Tournament was no longer at the forefront of everyone's minds: Quidditch was once more the only thing that mattered.

'Come on! We need to get the best spot!' Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand impatiently as she dawdled by the entrance hall and yanked her into a run.

They made quick work of joining the throngs of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students milling around at the steps into the stands. The Hogwarts and Beauxbatons teams were already waiting in the centre of the pitch, chatting away to each other and nodding at the instructions Madam Hooch, the eagerly volunteered referee, was giving them. The Durmstrang seven were no where to be seen.

Hermione and Ginny climbed the steps up into the Gryffindor stands, Ginny hopping two at a time in her excitement. Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville had beaten them to it and were leaning over the edge of the scarlet and gold decorated platform trying to pin a large sign to the wooden posts that read GO GO GRYFFINDOR and 150 POINTS TO HARRY POTTER. Everyone except Ron greeted the two girls with a cheerful 'hullo!'. Seamus was wearing his Ireland robes as if trying to send a silent, defiant message directly to Viktor. Hermione rolled her eyes and shuffled along the seats with Ginny.

In what felt like a mere blink of the eye the stands were crawling with students waving flags depicting their house emblems. The Durmstrang delegation had been welcomed into the Slytherin section and had rolled a scarlet flag over the edge with their coat of arms on, the outline charmed intimidatingly to burn with fake flames. Through her Omnioculars Hermione could see Madam Hooch tapping her foot impatiently and checking the time every other second. One team was still missing.

'Think they've chickened out?' Ron jeered. 'Bet they're too scared to come up against us.'

Hermione bit her lip to stop herself retorting. It's not worth it. Ginny made no such effort.

'Yeah, right, Ron! You think the best seeker-'

Cheers drowned out Ginny's scathing response. The Durmstrang side had shot onto the pitch in a diamond formation with Viktor at the very centre and suddenly every gaze was fixed on them. The thrill of seeing Viktor in his element once again sent a shiver through Hermione's body and she careened her torso over the edge with the rest of the Gryffindors to get a better look. His mop of dark hair was striking against his blood-red school robes, his broad chest rigidly upright and both hands loosely gripping the handle of his broom as though he didn't really need to support himself.

The Durmstrang team did a theatrical loop of the pitch, never once breaking formation, and touched down at the edge of the awaiting teams with graceful ease. Although every single member of their side was undeniably accomplished on a broom, there was something in Viktor's demeanour and the way he held himself on the broomstick that made it glaringly obvious that he was on a different level. He exuded a confidence that diminished whenever he was firmly back on the ground. Hermione was surprised at the smugness she experienced at observing it, but Ginny seemed to relish in seeing Hermione's ogling as she gave her a supportive thumbs up and a knowing wink.

Viktor lingered stiffly behind Valentin, Durmstrang's keeper, and allowed his best friend to shoulder the responsibility of representing his school at the selection ceremony. Hermione zoomed her Omnioculars in on her boyfriend, scrutinising his every minute expression whilst everyone else eagerly awaited the reveal of who would be facing who. She noticed a nervous twitch she'd not seen at the World Cup; as Valentin shook hands with each team captain in turn, Viktor restlessly tapped the handle of his broom as though playing a piano and stared uncomfortably at the ground. He was exceptionally fidgety for someone who'd been playing semi-professional Quidditch for a large portion of his lifetime and Hermione knew right away that he'd not been expecting such an audience - their pitch was probably a lot more intimidate than what he was used to.

'That's our first one in the bag!' Seamus cheered as Gryffindor drew Hufflepuff.

'He shouldn't underestimate them.' Hermione whispered to Ginny. Hufflepuff had squashed them the year before, after all. Dementors or no dementors.

Ginny looked at her in astonishment. 'Sorry, sometimes I forget you're dating a superstar and aren't a Quidditch snob anymore.'

Hermione huffed and returned to the action at hand. She jeered zealously with the rest of her house when Slytherin matched with Ravenclaw and clapped respectfully when Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were given a bye to challenge each other in the second round. Although she could make out Fred and George disputing the unfairness of such a gift, it was easy to decipher that this had been pre-decided by a higher power (likely an effort from Dumbledore to appease Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxine), and as as such the case was closed.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle a matter of minutes later and the pitch cleared, leaving the fourteen anxious Gryffindor and Hufflepuff players remaining. The matches that followed in the next few hours played out almost as if they had been scripted; Hufflepuff played admirably, Hermione thought, but Harry captured the snitch in a record twenty-five minutes and they were duly eliminated. The answering applause from the Gryffindors was so thunderous that it rocked the foundations of the stands, any remaining doubt about whether Harry had been forgiven of his Goblet of Fire indiscretion dispelled for all to see. The Slytherins booed on cue, but their Durmstrang neighbours applauded politely at her house's efficient win.

Hermione's enthusiasm for the game began to tire halfway through Slytherin's match with Ravenclaw and she found herself drifting off into a daydream about Viktor, wondering how he would be feeling ahead of his contest with Beauxbatons. Did he get nervous before he played? He was always so impassive, but his emotions appeared to manifest in awkwardness.

In a surprisingly tidy seventy-minutes Ravenclaw snatched the win from an enraged Slytherin side and proceeded to wind through the stands in jubilant celebration, their captain Roger Davies snatching a Ravenclaw flag and parading it through the skies. A sense of palpable anticipation buzzed through the crowd as Madame Hooch announced that the next match up would be between their foreign guests. However, instead of the whoosh of brooms, it was Dumbledore's booming voice that echoed over the wind.

'A short break for nourishment is in order, I think!'

And so everyone trudged back up to the castle for a speedy lunch break, conversations flittering passionately between Harry's extraordinary catch, a number of excellent goals by Ravenclaw chaser Randolph Burrow and a spectacular save from Hufflepuff keeper Herbert Fleet. Hermione let herself be absorbed by the excitable chatter to distract from her own impatient anticipation of Viktor's match.

'Hermione.' Ginny said urgently. 'Look!'

They had spilled into the Great Hall with the rest of the supporters, only to find Viktor Krum and Valentin Sechev lounging at the Gryffindor table and not in their usual Slytherin spot. As if on cue heads swivelled to get a good look at her reaction, but she was as surprised as they were. What were they doing? Didn't they know they were breaking Hogwarts etiquette?

Clutching Ginny's hand for moral support, Hermione shuffled to Viktor's side and dropped into the space beside him. His vibrant robes were even more impressive up close and against his porcelain skin they added an ethereal quality to his exposed face and hands.

'They look really good on you.' She mumbled. It was part of her promise to Viktor to say her compliments aloud and not to be embarrassed by keeping them inside. His impish smile made it all the more worth it; he took her compliments so much more sincerely in comparison with the grovelling and simpering that was otherwise aimed his way.

She watched in poorly contained confusion as he shrugged off his Durmstrang robe and then draped it over her shoulders. Hermione was aware of hundreds of eyes taking in their interaction and noticed how they nudged each other and pointed. She caught Ron scowling at them and offered him a pleasant smile. He'd probably accuse her of supporting Durmstrang over Gryffindor later on, but that was an argument for another time.

'They look good on you too.' Viktor winked and slipped an arm around her waist, facing forwards to make a start on the spread that had just materialised into view. They were receiving curious looks from all around the hall, and she even detected Hagrid eyeing them with intrigue.

'Viktor…' Hermione said as he served a third helping of roast chicken onto his plate. 'Why are you sat here?'

She hadn't meant to sound rude, but there was an etiquette to dining at Hogwarts and Viktor had unintentionally caused a scene by breaking it. Perhaps it had been on purpose - a middle finger to all those who doubted them.

'Is not my school,' He said with a shrug. 'Rules do not apply to me. Plus, is the weekend and special circumstances, so I can sit with my girlfriend if I wish.'

'And those Slytherin classmates of yours are pretty tedious.' Valentin added, earning himself a smile from the Gryffindors around them, including Ron who covered his mouth when he realised what he'd done.

Well, it's hard to argue with that.

'And I came for my good luck kiss.' Viktor said under his breath.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh in spite of herself. She pecked him on the cheek, and then again when he tapped his other one expectantly, before giving up on eating entirely. Her stomach was too full of butterflies.

'H-h-h-hey, Viktor.' Neville stuttered, taking them both by surprise in the middle of Hermione's fake grumblings. 'G-g-good luck.'

She watched as Viktor took in her friend's jumpy appearance. It would've taken Neville an enormous amount of courage to address Viktor directly - his face mirrored the fear he showed whenever Professor Snape berated him. On his other side Harry and Ron glanced up in anticipation, Ron's face darkening at Neville breaking his unspoken rule of engaging the enemy.

'Uh, thank you… what is your name?' Viktor said slowly, looking at Hermione with a perplexed expression.

'N-n-neville Longbottom.'

'Nice to meet you, Neville.' Viktor extended his hand politely and Neville subsequently leant in his cottage pie as he shook it vigorously.

Hermione replayed that sweet moment as she walked with Viktor, Valentin and Ginny back down to the Quidditch pitch. His kindness in the face of Neville's awkwardness had reassured her of a side of his personality that could have been marred by countless pestering encounters from boys like Neville, but instead he'd been entirely courteous and had probably made Neville's year. Hermione could sense Harry, Ron and the Gryffindor boys skulking behind them and caught Seamus shoving Dean forward to ask Viktor for his autograph, but it seemed none of them had the guts to do what Neville had.

'Good luck.' Hermione brushed her lips over Viktor's. 'I know you'll win.'

Viktor gave her a grateful squeeze and disappeared off with Valentin to find the rest of his team.

…

Viktor was determined to give it everything he had. It had been too long since he'd competed, and he could almost feel his reflexes growing sluggish and his attention span waning. He needed this practice if he was going to be ready to play professional Quidditch next season… when his offer eventually came.

He treated the first match as he had done the game against Ireland, his eyes in a permanent state of scanning the sky and conserving his energy wherever he could. The audience was nothing more than a faceless mass and patches of dynamic colour to him - Karkaroff had all but threatened him with exclusion if he didn't win, his mood devolving by the day.

Durmstrang despatched the Beauxbatons side with clinical effectiveness. The seeker had hardly given Viktor a run for his money, but he'd dealt with her as though she were his greatest rival. He'd blown her out of the park as he spotted the snitch hovering about Valentin's head, circling the goalpost and taunting him. Viktor lay flat against his broom and exploded through the goal, a well-timed hand signal giving Valentin just enough time to throw himself out of the way. He pocketed the snitch and their first win in a tidy thirty minutes.

He was in a trance like state as he watched Gryffindor conquer Ravenclaw in a respectable hour and fifteen minutes, Hermione's friend snatching the snitch from under their seeker's nose, though he'd looked apologetic at doing so. Viktor narrowed his eyes. It was one thing Coach Karkaroff had drilled into him; never be complacent with a female player. There was no time for chivalry on the Quidditch pitch. Clara Ivanova from his Bulgaria squad proved that on a daily basis.

Viktor's study of the Gryffindor team provided him with all the insight he needed. He'd need to shadow Harry Potter closely if he didn't want to throw away the match, and he'd have to watch out for the Twin beaters… they had pinpoint accuracy. Viktor touched his nose reflexively and winced at the memory of his last encounter with a bludger.

After the Gryffindor supporters' exuberant celebrations it was time for the final. It was intense from the get go, each team vying for control and to edge ahead. One of their chasers, a witch by the name Johnson, managed to get two goals past Valentin with a crafty distraction technique that Viktor knew Valentin would be raging about for hours.

Viktor was only vaguely aware of what was going on at any one time since his focus was shared between Harry Potter and the absent snitch. Wherever Harry went, so did Viktor, trailing him like his shadow. The young wizard seemed fidgety on his broom, unused to being so doggedly tracked through the skies. Viktor could see his talent, it was unmissable, but equally not honed. Potter needed a skilled coach to take him to the next level.

All of a sudden Viktor spotted it: a flash of gold skimming the grass underneath the Gryffindor stand. With an overwhelming sense of déjà vu Viktor dived head first towards the floor, Harry taking his turn at being the tracker. He could feel him at his heels, closing in on him, and Viktor faintly wondered if either of them would be able to pull up in time. It was going to be close and Hermione wouldn't forgive him if he allowed Harry to flatten himself.

Viktor was just moments away from victory. Arm outstretched, fingers nearly popping out of his joints, Viktor flung himself forward and upset the balance of his broomstick. Three things happened at once as his torso jolted forwards. Around them the crowd screamed, Viktor seized the snitch and made a successful grab for the end of Harry's broom, tipping it up to redirect his course at the last moment. The bones in his forearm absorbed the momentum of Harry's Firebolt and by a fraction of a second he prevented the Boy-Who-Lived from colliding messily with the earth. To his credit Harry had taken the first step to pull out of the manoeuvre, but he was also unpracticed and a millisecond too slow. It would've been an exceptionally nasty crash.

Harry looked dazed as Viktor hovered beside him, his fingers still gripping the sleek handle of Harry's broom. He felt no exultation at having won, just pure relief that it had not ended badly for either of them. However, Viktor wasn't sure how how the young wizard was about to react. Would he scream foul play?

'That was…'

Please take it well.

'…wicked!'

Viktor sighed in relief and beamed at him. 'You are okay?'

Harry nodded enthusiastically and checked himself over before offering to shake Viktor's hand. He took it.

'You fly very well.' Viktor commented. 'You almost succeeded.'

'D'ya think you could teach me how to do it properly? Like you did at the World Cup?'

Viktor grinned and nodded his acquiescence. He would do it to keep Hermione happy… and this teenager was one of the best natural flyers he'd seen in a very long time. It made him nostalgic for the little Bulgarian boy who had been frog-marched through the ranks. Anyone brave enough to attempt a Wronski Feint without proper coaching was worth his time.

'Come on. We must show them that you are not hurt or they will come for me with the pitchforks.'

The Gryffindors had been closest to the action and would've observed Viktor's quick thinking, but the rest of the school were probably baying for his blood right now. Viktor beckoned the referee over and explained what had happened, Harry vouching for him at the right moments. Satisfied that Viktor hadn't been trying to sabotage the Gryffindor's efforts, Madam Hooch blew her whistle to validate Durmstrang's win. Viktor's team surrounded him, thumping him hard on the back and yelling in glee. Their success tasted all the better for knowing the Hogwarts champions were ahead of Viktor in the rankings; to beat them was to take back some of the glory.

An excess of adrenaline was coursing through Viktor's veins and he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep if he returned to the ship like this. His ability to solely focus on the game at the expense of all else was a huge contributor to his success, but he often struggled to get out of his own headspace after a match. When he was travelling with the Bulgarian squad he'd seek out Vasily after the debrief and they'd find a physical way to expend Viktor's energy - usually by running, but sometimes they'd duel until one or both of them was dead on their feet.

Tonight all Viktor wanted was to find Hermione. He was single-minded in his need to sweep her up in his arms and kiss her until he was breathless; there was no better way to get rid of his adrenaline, not now he had that as an option.

'Cover for me, Valentin?' Viktor gestured in the direction of the Gryffindor stands. 'I want five minutes with my witch.'

Valentin raised an eyebrow into a question mark, but answered him with a smirk and a shrug. He knew exactly what Viktor meant, since the cover for me? was usually the other way around.

Viktor set off at a jog, the exertion easing out some of the stiffness in his limbs from sitting on his broom for so long. He caught up with Hermione and Ginny just as they were leaving the stands, the Weasley witch's hair an identifiable beacon in the poor light of dusk.

'You are minding if I borrow your friend for moment?' He said to Ginny.

'Viktor?' Hermione whisked round. 'Are you okay? Is Harry okay?'

He didn't want to have this conversation in public. They'd hear from their champion at dinner, he was sure of that. Harry could deflect their inquiries and give him a break for once - he'd saved him from another prominent facial scar, it was the least he could do. Viktor clasped Hermione's hand in his own and pulled her away from the crowd, the gloom of nightfall providing them cover from being noticed. Shielded by the shadows Viktor let him hand roam over the small of Hermione's back, hooking his thumb into one of her belt loops to stop himself from groping her there and then. The adrenaline still firing in his system was making him rebellious.

When they were finally within the privacy of the outcrop of trees near their spot Hermione finally challenged his intensity.

'Uh, it's not that I'm liking this attention, but what's brought it on?'

'Adrenaline.'

He was staring at her with predatory fixation. Hermione seemed to accept his justification without a word, and he could've sworn he saw a smile flicker across her lips. She'd surely understand what kind of mood he was in… and where he wanted things to go. As soon as they were hidden from view of the last students leaving the pitch, the homely glow of Hogwarts looming in the distance, Viktor spun to face her head on and lifted her from the ground in one swift movement. She appeared to read his mind for she immediately wound her legs around his hips; if she was surprised at the sudden escalation she didn't say so.

Despite his impatience, Viktor backed her up into the nearest tree with his usual care, casting a cushioning charm so that she wouldn't come to any harm as he pushed her up against the trunk of the ancient oak. He pressed her against it a little roughly, shoving her scarf out of the way to enable him to lave at her exposed neck. His heart was racing from rush of victory, and such a close victory too, that not even sucking on the delicate skin of her jaw and collarbone seemed to focus his mind.

A breathy moan drew his attention back to her face and he crushed his lips against hers. As he slipped his tongue into her hot mouth she started to writhe against him and he became aware of the first tell-tale signs of his own arousal. It was instantaneous and insistent. Making a rapid decision Viktor stepped back and lowered Hermione to the ground, pinning her against the tree with the light pressure of his hand on her shoulder and a knee between her thighs. Her smoky eyes were blown wide and her small mouth was parted as she inhaled sharply, two enticing pink patches blossoming on her otherwise flawless cheeks.

'I can see you?' He rasped. 'Please.'

He saw every thought she had in that moment dance across her face. Panic. Defiance. Intrigue. Desire. Viktor lifted the hem of her jumper to show her what he meant and she nodded timidly, relief flooding her features as she realised he'd meant the top half.

Viktor smoothed his hands under her jumper and over her warm skin; his erratic heart finally stilling from the contact. As he explored her stomach the material of Hermione's jumper rolled up, revealing her delicate pink skin, flushed from his touch. She was so petite he could envelope her belly with two wide, splayed hands. With every inch northwards Hermione's breathing hitched and the erection constrained in his trousers pulsed, demanding immediate attention.

With a habitual glance over his shoulder Viktor peeled away the last of the fabric that was blocking her breasts from view. She looked quite the sight; her jumper bunched up around her neck, her scarf askew, her hands clutching at his hair and her chest heaving tantalisingly in his eye-line. For only the second-time in her presence Viktor allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to fuck her. He'd always tried to keep his thoughts pure and restrained, never letting himself go that far, knowing that they weren't there yet… not for a while.

Viktor buried his face between her breasts, inhaling the sweat vanilla smell that clung to her rosy skin. He tucked the cups of her bra down and proceeded to flick his tongue over each puckered nipple in turn. Her resulting moan of ecstasy was his undoing.

…

Hermione wasn't sure how they'd gotten here, but she was enjoying every second of it. She'd never seen Viktor behave in such an uncontrolled, wild manner before. He was normally so restrained in his every action - even when they'd done things like this in the past he'd been aware of her every whimper. This time it appeared he was acting on impulse. Hermione took in the sight before her; the way her nipples disappeared into the wet heat of his mouth was undeniably sexy and sent a rush through her that made her feel light-heated and boneless. This boy was acting nothing like her boyfriend, and it was an extreme turn on.

Ginny's words thrummed in the back of her mind: the only conscious part of her clouded brain. Had her neglect driven him to this? Even with Viktor's tongue swiping over her nipples, making her knees buckle, the idea of touching him was intimidating. But could she consciously allow this to be another session where only she received pleasure?

Viktor made the decision for her a moment later. Whenever he switched between her breasts, nipping at their sensitive swell, he would pinch and fondle the other with equal fervour. However, as he peppered a trail of searing kisses along her cleavage one of his hands strayed to his own trousers, squeezing and stroking himself through the cotton. This was nothing like their prior liaisons - she thought she'd been turned on when she was rutting against him like an animal, or even when his fingers had been inside her, but seeing him caressing himself was more arousing than anything she'd ever seen.

'Can I?' She said. Her voice didn't sound like her.

Viktor's hooded eyes flew open and she saw his Adam's apple bob reflexively as he swallowed with difficulty.

'You are sure?' He said huskily.

Hermione was resolute. In all their previous intimidate encounters Viktor had been patient, attentive, focused. Never before had he been so desperate for relief that he sought it himself, and certainly not in front of her. Her mouth dry, Hermione wrapped her fingers around his wrist to still his absentminded movements. She nodded. She knew she would show her inexperience more than ever before, but the voice in her head insisted that Viktor wouldn't mind.

Leaving her chest exposed to the evening chill Viktor shuffled back to give her some space. Curiosity took over, quelling her nervousness, and Hermione smoothed her palm over the prominent bulge in Viktor's trousers. His hips snapped instinctively against her hand and his jaw slackened at her initial touch. Emboldened by his enthusiastic reaction Hermione traced the outline of his erection with her fingertips. She rubbed the length of him through the cotton, once… twice… thrice. On her fourth swipe Viktor grunted and pulled his hips back and out of her reach.

'I do not want to… uh,' Frustration flittered over his features. 'I do not haff the word. But you know, in my boxers.'

Hermione thought she knew what he meant, and it finally dawned on her what she was doing… and the power she had over him. Blinking rapidly she looked from Viktor's tensed neck to the painful-looking protrusion between his legs.

Call yourself a Granger?

'Okay.'

Viktor's nostrils flared. His fist shifted to push his trousers down, but Hermione shook her head. She wanted to do this if she was about to see him for the first time. She wanted to be in control.

Her eyes fixed on his erection, Hermione shakily pushed down the waistband of Viktor's trousers, revealing his underwear: a pair of navy boxers. Her jaw dropped at the outline of his… cock straining against the thin material. It left little to the imagination. She could feel Viktor's urgent, wary gaze on her but she didn't hesitate. With a last, self-soothing breath Hermione yanked down his pants… or tried to.

'Uh, you need to… over my dick.' Viktor cleared his throat.

Hermione blushed and tried again. This time she did as he suggested, pulling the material away from his clammy skin and over his engorged penis. It sprang free and came to rest against his tort stomach, twitching and jumping as it was exposed to the cold air and her heated gaze. Huh, it's bigger than the ones in the books. More appealing, too.

Hermione's confidence waned in seconds. Sensing this, Viktor drew her against him with one hand, enticing her into a steamy kiss. The connection of his bare flesh against her belly made arousal pool between her thighs and Hermione wondered what it would be like to have this part of him invade her as his fingers had once done. Viktor's hand was large enough to wrap fully around hers and he did so, guiding her to finally touch him, pressing her palm against his bare skin. She wordlessly thanked him for not drawing attention to her inexperience; she didn't want to feel like a child in that moment, not when he'd never seemed so adult to her.

Viktor felt silky smooth against her. Hermione curled her fingers curiously around his girth and with his support slid her hand up and down his length in slow, exploratory movements. Together they fondled him, exploring the weeping tip that turned out to be more sensitive than the rest, all the way down to the base where he made Hermione squeeze him harder.

'Is this,' Hermione murmured against his lips. 'What you did after we were… together before?'

Her question seemed to take Viktor by surprise. Then, his lips curled into a smile against hers.

'Da. I mean, yes.'

The temperature between them soared another few degrees and Hermione lost the ability to swallow. Did he do this to himself in his bed when he was alone?

'I think of you.' Viktor offered. 'Always your hand. Now I am knowing what it is really like.'

Hermione thought she was going to faint. He was using his words to encourage her, she suspected, and it was working. She felt the absence of his hand immediately when he let it drop, leaving her to her own devices as he returned his attentions to her chest. Her hold on him stuttered when he pinched one of her nipples hard and she moaned into his open mouth. It wasn't so embarrassing when he too was sighing, gasping and groaning, but she still sounded so wanton to her own ears.

Fisting him in the way he liked, Hermione pumped Viktor's cock in a jolted rhythm until, all of a sudden, he bucked frantically into her palm.

'Do not stop!' He bellowed into her breasts.

Hermione focused her attention on the tip and, with a whimper and a throaty grunt from Viktor, jerked him until his whole body went rigid and he came, the translucent liquid spattering over her hand and his sweatshirt.

They remained motionless. Viktor's lips were resting open over one of her nipples, his deflating erection pulsing within her grasp and his hips twitching as the last of his orgasm rippled through him.

After what felt like an age, Viktor vanished his release and stuffed himself back into his underwear. The reality of what had just occurred had started to sink in. Offering his hand a little hesitantly Viktor directed them back onto the lawn, both trying to smother the grins on their faces. They reached the castle without saying a word. Was he going to mention it… where her hand had just been? She wanted to do it again and would if it meant appeasing some of the arousal simmering in her lower stomach.

Viktor pulled her into a goodbye hug and brushed his lips over the shell of her ear.

'You are incredible.'

Hermione laughed shakily. Viktor had broken the ice and squashed her doubts in one deft move.

'Thank you for being patient with me,' She mumbled under her breath. 'Let's… let's do that again.'

Viktor's laugh reverberated through the still night air and she couldn't help but grinning. He pecked a chaste kiss on both of her cheeks and hugged her again, unwilling to let her go. Her cheeks hurt from smiling.

'One last thing before I am letting you go…'

'Yes?'

Viktor ducked his head down to speak directly into her ear.

'Sometimes it is your mouth on me that I imagine.'

Hermione's head span. Now that was going to consume her dreams.

Well, there we go. The most smutty chapter we've had so far. I hope you liked the shift in tempo! Next up Rita Skeeter drops a bombshell and throws everything into disarray.