Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea and this manifestation.

Warnings: Unbeta'd, raw story; gender-bender, AU. Slash. [ Take your pick as to the why's but Harry is not the fourth champion… there isn't a fourth champion. The specifics aren't important though, to enjoy the story.]

… x … x … x …

"I wonder if it makes me a horrible person to enjoy this imposed isolation?"

"I'm of mind that your situation makes it ok." That deep voice, rumbling with a heavy Slavic accent, startled Harry out of his private musings.

Looking up, the fourteen-year-old caught the dark gaze of the Durmstrang champion.

"Hm, I suppose it is. Acceptable, that is." Harry's face quickly colored at the suggestive look the elder sent him.

"I meant my situation!"

And if that rumbling chuckle made strange feelings well up from within, Harry refused to acknowledge them.

… x … x … x …

"Will your status as a pariah rub off on me?"

"Umm… I don't think so." Harry mumbled, confused by the question Viktor decided to greet him with.

"Oh." Was that… disappointment in his voice?

"Why did you ask that?" Well now his curiosity was piqued.

"I was jumped by a gang of crazed girls. The approach of the Yule ball has made them desperate; they were never this forward."

"Well, if it's anything, I'm sorry for your misfortune. The most I could offer is my company. That will surely keep them away."

The smile he received in turn set loose a flock of butterflies, but Harry was quick to dismiss it.

… x … x … x …

"The Yule ball is approaching. Do you have a date in mind?"

"Hello to you too, Viktor." Harry sighed from behind 1001 Ways to Murder (and get away with it).

"Hello, Harry." He repeated absentmindedly, waiting for his answer to the previous question.

"Um… well, I've actually forgotten all about it. You?" Viktor watched the rapid diffusion of red across his cheeks before answering.

"No, though there is a person in mind."

"Oh."

"Hm."

The silence stretched between them; Viktor sat watching Harry while Harry squirmed under the intense scrutiny.

"Harry, will you go to the dance with me?"

… x … x … x …

"Everyone's staring at us." Harry was far from being in his comfort zone; in fact, he was sure that his comfort zone was at least two continents away from his current position.

"Not us, you." Harry glared at the Bulgarian. How dare he feel amusement when all Harry could feel was intense discomfort.

He was brought out of his brooding as Viktor gently turned his head so as to make eye contact. For some reason, the touch — the look — made his face burn in embarrassment, and maybe a bit of pleasure.

"Stop paying them so much attention. I'm getting jealous." If it was possible, Harry's face reddened even further as Viktor nuzzled his neck, those strong arms wrapping securely around his waist as they swayed gently to the soft, lazy, strains of music.

"I must admit, I never expected you to make such a… voluptuous girl." He quirked his lips as one hand slid up to give his… temporary assets a squeeze.

"Viktor!" He cried out, part embarrassment, and part shocked pleasure.

"Would you stop that, people can see us! And don't expect this to be a common occurrence." Viktor's grin turned decidedly predatory when Harry made no inclination of dislike towards his actions, merely the setting of said actions.

With a playful wink, Viktor led Harry out of the Great Hall and outside, losing themselves among the maze of bushes and various other topiary.

"I know we have only known each other for a short time,"

"Though you've stalked me for longer."

"but I can honestly say that I've fallen for you."

"Viktor." Harry looked up at the elder teen in amazement. If Viktor had less self-control, he would have teased Harry of his silence, but he wasn't and so he didn't.

As the two shared their first kiss beneath the moon, an odd little beetle was all in a tizzy over the information gleaned from this meeting.

So much better than those giants!