Boys. They were bloody horrid, numerated Hermione Granger as she scrunched up another incorrect Arithmancy calculation and discarded it with a hump on the library floor. Ever since the disastrous events at the Yule ball Ron had been resolutely freezing her out of their friendship group; turning the focus of his teenage angst from Harry to her. And Harry – The Boy Without A Spine, was going along with it fresh from his time on Ron's wrong side.
That Saturday morning, she had sat opposite her two best friends in the Great Hall, hoping to mend some bridges – but Ron was determined to be pig headed and had ignored her completely as he stuffed his stupid mouth full of eggs. Harry kept sending her apologetic glances as the two of them talked about nothing but Quidditch, knowing how much it infuriated her. As soon as she realized there would be no hope for reconciliation she sighed and made her way to the library.
Even her beloved books weren't their usual balm in times of upset. Usually, a good day's hard work in her preferred darkened corner of the library with the pretty window seat would sooth her – but not this time. She felt furious and wound up, like pot about to boil over. In her frustration, she had long ago divested herself of her jumper that now hung on the back of her chair in a crumpled mess.
Suddenly she felt a trickling awareness, she was being watched. Preparing to blast whatever dunderhead had dared to come into her lair she ripped her eyes away from the tome she had been half-heartedly studying. Then her mouth went dry.
Leaning against the stacks looking sinful was Viktor Krum. He had clearly just come from flying practice as he was dressed in his school leathers that emphasized the broadness of his shoulders and his dark eyes were sparkling with a windswept vitality. The rugged young man smirked down at the young witch's appraisal.
"I fink you have been avoiding me, no?" Asked the Bulgarian ruefully.
Hermione blushed and averted her gaze.
Viktor chuckled at her innocence, "I fink I am deserving an answer Printesa?"
Hermione gulped and internally admonished herself for openly mooning over the handsome man like a fangirl. Get a hold of yourself Granger. "I-I am sorry Viktor… my friends and I have had a falling out." She waved her hands noncommittedly.
"Da – the red head? He is being… difficult?"
Hermione was once again struck by just how observant Viktor was, for an athlete. Then again, his subtle attention to her had been what had finally swayed her decision to accept his invite to the ball in the first place. When the taciturn wizard had first extended the invitation to her after a few evenings sharing a study space she had balked, thinking he was teasing her. When she realized that his persistence was not born out of some kind of vindictive plot – but genuine interest, she had practically glowed with feminine pride.
Hermione could freely admit to herself that she wasn't a great beauty like Ginny or Fleur; but she had been trying a little to make herself feel more attractive. Prior to term starting, her mother had taken her to a beautician for the first time to tame her bushy eyebrows and highlight her hair. Despite herself, she had hoped that her boys would notice. It was with immense sense of disappointment and shame when they hadn't said a word and she had felt silly to think they would ever acknowledge her as female. Good old Hermione – the academic safety net, the bookwork but never a viable option for a date.
Viktor had noticed her though. He had appreciated her delicately manicured fingernails as they unconsciously traced the lines of the pages she read. She also knew he had appreciated her cleavage the night of the Yule ball, as when she had danced with him something unmistakably male had pressed against her – and that thought made her tingle in a not altogether unpleasant way.
With an embarrassed groan she brought her hands to her face. "Yes he is being rather… mean." She admitted.
With the grace of a hunting panther, Viktor stood away from the bookcase to recline on the table next to where Hermione was sat. Then, in a motion laced with surprising tenderness he ghosted his fingers through her mad curls before placing two fingers under her chin so that she would look him in the eye.
"He is jealous." Viktor stated simply.
Hermione guffawed at this.
"He is jealous." The boy repeated softly before leaning down to place a possessive kiss on her lips.
Hermione and Viktor had kissed a few times before. Once, when she had finally acquiesced to his invite to the dance. He had shocked her by rushing forward over the table to cup her face in his large hands and kiss her soundly – if not a little on the naughtier side of chaste. Then, again, at the Yule ball Hermione had shocked herself by raising up on her tip toes to press her lips to his as a thankyou for the beverage he had collected for her like a gentleman.
This kiss however, against the blazing sunset from the window, felt charged with something transcendental. Hermione gasped as Viktor's tongue quizzically probed against her lips for entry. Her whole body seemed to come alive with a throbbing need and her Gryffindor heart rallied with adrenaline. Before long, Hermione was eagerly plundering the Seeker's mouth with an enthusiasm all her own and she found she quite liked the taste of him. Sharp and rich, like kirsch cherries, she mused.
As if sensing her burgeoning need, the Bulgarian pulled Hermione from her seat and lifted her so that her legs wrapped around his waist. In a hurried motion the young man staggered backwards towards the window seat and dropped against the pillows. Hermione hissed as her skirt bunched around them and her core aligned with the delicious hardness of Viktor's body.
The young man tore his mouth from hers, "Hermione – is this okay Printesa?" He groaned, trying not to frighten the young woman with the raw desire she was inspiring.
Hermione caught her breath and took in the compromising position they were in before coyly looking down.
"Please… do not misunderstand Printesa. I want to continue – but you do not have to do anything you do not want to." Viktor smiled as he stroked her freckled cheek.
Hermione leaned into his adoring touch. "I… I think I would like to continue – but I'm not ready to do… everything Viktor."
Viktor kissed her again for her honesty and quickly manoeuvred her to cast a notice-me-not charm and silencing charm before pulling her flush against him again. "Da? Good… I must ask Hermione am I the first man to touch you like this?"
The girl in his arms nodded shyly. "Is that a problem? I know you're probably used to being with girls that are more experienced…"
"No. No problem. You do me great honour beautiful girl. I vant to make you feel such things."
Hermione's breath caught in her throat as Viktor punctuated his words by grinding against her. Her knickers where becoming damp in a way she had only ever experienced in the secluded privacy of her dorm-room with the curtains closed.
"Yes," she whined gently into his lips. "Make me feel it. I-I want to feel it with you!"
At Hermione's admission Viktor seemed to let go of the self-control that he had been desperately wrestling with and then his hands were everywhere; in her hair; on her waist; cupping her breasts and teasing her delicate nipples through her thin shirt.
The two teenagers surged against one another, chasing their exquisite high. Viktor marvelled at the way Hermione bucked against him without artifice. She was so different to the young women he had bedded. There was a quiet dignity to her that he liked – but he knew from the moment he saw her that he wanted to see her unbound and wild as her hair. And now she was, bouncing with unbridled passion against his straining cock. The boys in her school were madmen to not have properly appreciated this goddess; but if she chose him as her carnal teacher then so be it.
In a daring move Viktor tore at Hermione's buttons to expose her bra-clad breasts to him. When she made no sign of protest, he eased out the snowy globes and latched onto her right nipple with his mouth.
"Oh Goddess!" Squealed the girl, and her movements against his crotch became more frantic with every sweep of his clever tongue. Viktor growled against her skin which seemed to spur her on. "Viktor! I'm close! I'm so close!" Hermione panted, her eyes going wide.
"Yes pretty witch! Look at me Hermione – I vant to vatch you come." He responded, his lips still on her skin.
Viktor felt her answering shudder as she locked eyes with him the moment her pussy exploded into a firework of pleasure.
Hermione's orgasm triggered his own as he smelt the gush of wetness that came from her with his sensitive nose. "Mamkamu!" He barked against her chest as he felt himself ejaculate into his Quidditch jodhpurs.
For a few moments Hermione held him against her as they shuddered through the after-effects of their combined climaxes. When his breathing returned to a semblance of normality, he regarded her again and gave her a lazy kiss before winking at the flushed young woman. As she went to stand Viktor held out his hand to stop her swaying on her unsteady legs. At this gesture she smiled beautifully for him, before beginning to smooth down her skirt and readjust her top. There was silence between them, but it was not uncomfortable.
"Viktor…that was… wow!" Hermione finally laughed as she tried to tame her tangled mane.
"Da- wow!" He replied smugly with male bravado, which earned him a playful swot from her. "Do you vish me to take you back to your tower?" He asked and inclined his head to the rapidly darkening sky outside.
Hermione pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth. "Yes, I – I would like that very much Viktor."
Viktor waited patiently for Hermione to clear the table of her belongings and place them in her bag. Just as she was about to swing the strap over her arm, Viktor snatched the bag away and flung her satchel over himself before grasping her dainty hand in his to lead her through the castle.
Hermione had to keep reminding herself not to skip through the halls as Viktor kept their fingers steadfastly woven together in plain view of everybody they passed. Everywhere they walked she could hear the muted whispers of shock from the surrounding students. It was an altogether different experience being gossiped about as the subject of desire. Usually when people gaped at her in the hallways it was because of something to do with Harry. Still coming down from her earlier high, she made a note of the sideways glances she was getting from boys and the looks of jealousy she garnered from the entire female populous. And soon she was surprised to find herself squaring her shoulders, unbothered by their scrutiny. Viktor found her worthy – had asked her to the dance above all the rest and had just engaged with her in some very exra-curricular socializing. For the first time Hermione felt the stirrings of confidence, and wow – it's just as intoxicating as dry humping, she thought with a blush.
All too soon the pair found themselves at the portrait of The Fat Lady.
"Dis is where I must say goodnight gadge." The stoic man said looking deep into her eyes.
"Goodnight Viktor, and thank you umph!" Without warning, Viktor cradled her to his body and proceeded to dip her backwards into the kind of swooping kiss that she had only seen in films.
When he relented his heart-stopping kisses, he dropped into a bow, the way he had done the night of the Yule ball and brushed his lips over her hand. "There is no thanks between us gadge." Then the intense young man presented her with her bag before strolling nonchalantly down the staircase.
Hermione stood slack jawed for a full minute when a gentle cough brought her back to her senses. "Well, I must say Miss Granger that was one of the most romantic things I've ever seen!" Trilled the Fat Lady.
Hermione nodded in agreement with glassy eyes, still staring after the boy that had left her trembling.
"Erm… password dearie?" Prompted the Fat Lady kindly.
"Oh! Erm – I'm sorry…Niffler Horde!" Hermione stuttered.
The Fat Lady regarded the bookish girl with an amused smile before flinging open the portrait entrance. Hermione let out a secretive girlish sigh as she clambered through; to make her way down the darkened corridor towards the glow of the common room. When she emerged in the Gryffindor tower, she was struck by how different she felt - yet notably everything around her was much the same. She felt as though she had achieved a miraculous milestone but had no one to share the moment of triumph with.
"And where have you been young lady?" Called Fred from over by the fireplace, where the boys and Ginny were sat as well… shit.
Hermione placed a hand on her hip and feigned an aloofness she wasn't sure she could achieve. "Not that it's any of your business – but I was with Viktor if you must know."
"Ooh Viktor is it?" George smirked at her stance. "Is that why you're looking so thoroughly snogged then?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes at the twins, trying her upmost not to look at Harry and Ron. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Then she made her way past the group.
"Oh – by the way Granger, your jumper is inside out." Added Fred with an all-knowing look.
Hermione faltered mid-step to glance down at her jumper. Which was indeed inside out. Then in a move that shocked her avid audience she began to giggle in a very un-Hermione fashion.
"Hang about Granger, I was only messing before! Have you actually been snogging Krum all this time?" Fred asked wide eyed as he clutched the back of the sofa to face her.
Hermione felt positively giddy as the rush of giggles continued to erupt from her. "I think it went a bit past snogging actually." She quipped back before clapping her hands to her mouth at her brazenness.
"Merlin's balls Hermione!" Screeched Ginny jumping up from her position on the floor and rushing over to the older girl. "I want all the sordid details!"
By this time Hermione was clutching her sides with glee at the scandalized looks that she had earned from the Weasley twins, Harry and Ron. Of course, Ron had to be the one to try and spoil her mood.
"Well I think it's disgusting," he said bitterly. "Carrying on like that. Honestly Hermione – I thought you were smart!"
Hermione collected herself and grinned. "And do you know what I think Ronald Weasley? I think you're just jealous." And with that bombshell she threw back her curls and practically floated to the staircase of the girls' dorms with Ginny trailing in her wake.
From his position on the floor Ron floundered for words as he turned a deep crimson.
