Again, I'm still apologizing! Thank you all for watching, though!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. 'Nuff said(:

July Second

Football Isn't Just a Guy Sport

"I can't wear red?"

"No! Not with your hair!"

"And I need pastels?"

"Hermione, you're a Muggle and you don't know how to match colors?"

"Hey, give me a break. I'm usually in robes."

"Sorry, I guess that having to wear those uniforms all the time makes you know how to match your things. Mrs. Weasley, this would look lovely on you!"

"Really? I'm not so sure."

"I'm sure, just try it on! Mrs. Granger, could you show Mrs. Weasley where the changing rooms are?"

"I don't know if I like this."

"Mom, you look great."

"You're just saying that because you have to."

"No, it fits you nicely. But go down a size, you aren't pregnant anymore."

"Can I wear blue?"

"Of course, or green, Ginny. Either with your hair color."

"Green? Ugh."

"Okay, then, wear blue."

"Am I allowed to wear brown?"

"Yeah, its fine, Hermione."

"Okay, I've got what I want."

"Me too."

"Me three!"

"Ginny, Mom, Mrs. Granger?"

"I guess."

"Yes."

"I suppose."

And so, with much more conversation besides that, we finished our shopping, went back to change into our new clothes before heading back out to town and meet up with the boys. All adults besides my mother had stayed behind, and even then, my mother would join back up with them as soon as we met up with the boys.

"Do you think they're done?" Ginny asked, looking pretty in her green dress that flowed everywhere except for the arms, around her thighs, and the neck. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, her bangs across her forehead and teased up into firecracker bangs.

"They're men," I said, rolling my eyes as I pulled my purse up over my shoulder farther. "All they usually care about getting is a t-shirt and baggy cargo pants. Well, my brother does at least."

"Your brother isn't Viktor," my mother reminded me. I had to force myself not to see something in her eyes.

No, he sure isn't, I thought, remembering the way he had looked at me when he'd first come in the door wearing his long-sleeved black turtleneck and the long, maroon pants and the shiny black shoes. His muscles had look delicious, and his face had been even more handsome and planed than before.

"We're meeting up at the football stadium, right?" Ginny asked, turning her head to look for the group that was mostly composed of her brothers.

"Football," Fred scoffed, elbowing his brother in the side. "Never heard of such a thing."

"Where you come from, it's actually what we call soccer," my mother said with a chuckle. "We take football pretty seriously around here. But normally it isn't played during the summer. This is a scrimmage between the two local high schools, the same as in Quidditch."

"Well, I hope the boys are ready to learn how to play, because they're going to," I said with a laugh. "I mean, come on, even I know how to play, and I'm a girl. We're not allowed to play."

"What?" Ginny asked, sounding appalled. "What do you mean, we're not allowed to play?"

"I'll explain later," my mom said, a twinkle in her eyes, probably of laughter, like usual. She pointed up ahead, smiling. "The boys are here."

I would have stopped in my tracks had Ron not been behind me. He kept me moving, so I gracefully stumbled and caught myself, blushing.

He looked…wow.

That was the only way to describe it!

He was wearing a button-down, deep red collared shirt, the maroon always a good color on him. It stretched across his broad shoulders, straining against his biceps. And his pants? Merlin, I didn't even want to look down there with fear of fainting.

"Hey," I said softly as we met in the middle, I looking up at him from underneath my lashes. "You look…great." Lame. Lame, lame, lame, lame, LAME. "Red's a good color on you." Even lamer, Leigh. Smooth.

The boys were showing off their clothes to the others, so none of them even noticed Viktor and I looking at each other, standing in our own little world. "You do as vell," he said softly, his deep brown eyes crinkling. "And your reed ees good too."

I laughed, loving the way he talked and all of his little accents put on easy words. "Muggle clothes suit you."

It was one of those moments where time stood still, as you looked into that one person's eyes and your senses were heightened. I noticed that his hair wasn't just black, but it had slight shades of chocolate brown in it as well. His eyes weren't completely brown, but had small flecks of gold appearing just around the center. And his smell… gorgeous in and of itself.

He nodded, his eyes suddenly serious. "You…they, ah…" He slowly raised his hand, gently twirling a piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers softly brushing my cheek in the same movement. "You as vell."

I thought that I was blushing down to my feet. "Well, ah…I guess we'd better get going to the field."

Viktor seemed to snap out of his little hypnosis and a small amount of red appeared in his ears. "Da. Ve should go."

Viktor Krum

A football field…strange, but—well, it was just strange. One hundred yards long, with long white lines every ten yards. Two tall posts that had a square without a top on top of them were at either end of the green grass. What had Jonathan Nelson called them? Field goals?

"Hey, boys, you didn't think that you were going to start without me, did you?"

The voice of Leigh Ann rang out across the field, and the many tall, muscular men stopped their horsing around and looked up. "LEIGH ANN!" they cried, right before they stampeded up the hill and pulled her into their midst.

Viktor was slightly worried as he watched her getting roughed up, being slapped on the back, her hair being mussed, and slight punches on the arms. She gave them back all that she was worth, though, and was laughing along with them.

"Okay, okay, alright, guys!" she exclaimed, laughing. She prodded them along until the larger group was situated in front of the stationary smaller one. "This is the group of friends I met while over in England."

The entire group besides Viktor shook hands with everyone else, introducing themselves. "Who's the big guy?" one man, who was just as tall as Viktor, but leaner, asked, leaning one arm on Leigh Ann's shoulder. He was dark-haired, dark-skinned but light-eyed, handsome but boyish. He would have been a perfect Seeker if he'd been a Wizard.

"That would be Viktor Krum, Daniel. Not…that it has any importance to you guys. But, in Bulgaria, Viktor is a famous sports star."

"Neece to meet you," he said, holding out a hand to the man. Viktor glared at him, squeezing his hand to try and tell him that Leigh Ann was off-limits. Off-limits…as in mine? Or off-limits as in she will be mine?

He wanted her to be his, what with that little scrap of pants that barely went down to half thigh, showing off extremely long, luscious tanned legs. Her top was white and somehow it flowed around her body without touching her arms. Her shoulders were bare to him for the first time since the Yule Ball, and he wanted to place his hands there, followed by his lips.

"Alright, you men and your Alpha Male tendencies, lets play some ball!" she said, slapping both of them on the backs with a small frown on her face. "Boys, Viktor doesn't know how to play, and the other men are from England, meaning that their football is our soccer. Teach 'em the ropes." Leigh then grabbed Viktor's arm, pulling him to a stop. She drug her finger down his nose, which had been broken at least three times from a Bludger. "This sport can be as dangerous as any Bludger. Be careful?"

"Da."

She then smiled widely, running over to the right side of the field, on the longest side. There, standing, were a bunch of girls who were almost painfully thin, though one or two of them had some kinds of curves. "Ginny, Hermione, get over here!"

The girls were all wearing short red skirts with tight black shorts underneath, and red form-fitting tank tops that left nothing to the imagination. The word INDIANS was printed on the front in white And when they handed Leigh Ann one of the outfits, he felt his mouth starting to water.

The man, Daniel, slapped Viktor's back a little harder than necessary and started to pull him along. "Come on, Bulgaria. We're going to show you how to play a real sport."

A While Later...

It may have taken a little while, but quickly enough the men learned how to play football. It turned out that George and Fred were the best components for wide receivers, and Charlie had been a great linebacker and tackle. Viktor, on the other hand, had not only been a perfect linebacker, but wasn't that bad at being a quarterback, either.

It was "half-time," the score fourteen to thirteen, Viktor's team winning against Daniel's, when they walked over to the water coolers, drenched in sweat. The girls—the magical ones, at least—were now dressed in what the others were wearing and had decided to run out onto the field to practice, now that the boys were taking a break.

"Not bad," one man named Sam, who was also Viktor's tight end, said, slapping Viktor on the back. "For someone who's never even heard of the sport, you've done pretty good."

"He—no. I half heard oof eet beefoor."

"Really?" the boy asked, toweling off his hair with an oversized rag. "When?"

"Leahn's father tooght me soome," he said curtly, taking a long swig of water and trying to keep his eyes off of the long, tight legs of the one woman his eyes could never leave. At the moment she was doing something the other men had told him were called "the splits", which looked incredibly painful.

Daniel, his opposing quarterback, merely grunted in disapproval. "What the hell did old man Nelson want with you?"

Viktor set his jaw to keep from doing something to the man. "Ve vere toolking. He had teem oolf to see his daughter, and ve vere at the same meeleetoory coonfereence."

Daniel's eyes were a piercing ice blue, with the darkest black hair that Viktor had ever seen, and dark, tanned skin and a strong, menacing face. He crushed his cup bitterly, throwing to the ground and stomping off into the locker rooms.

"Deed I say soomthing?" he asked, smirking in mirth at the fact that the man was angry with him. If he had a thing about Leigh Ann, it would be over.

A small but built boy who was perfect for linebacker, and was one, with light blonde hair and light blue eyes smiled and took a sip of his drink. What was his name? Tanner? "Daniel and Anna dated once. She was the one who broke up with him, though he won't admit it. He's too protective, or something like that."

Now Viktor felt his fists clenching, and he looked back at Leigh Ann, who was laughing and dancing to the beat of some kind of music the girls, also called "cheerleaders," were playing. Her hips swayed enticingly, and it must have been some kind of come hither dance, because he wanted to go over there and kiss her full on the mouth, claiming her as his.

Tanner looked at Viktor with a raised, dry eyebrow. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Vhat?" he asked innocently, though he was sweating slightly just at the fact that someone knew his secret.

The boy rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Leigh Ann's a great girl. Be good to her."

Viktor turned his face away from the boy, putting interest in his paper cup. "I do noot knoow vhat you are toolking aboot."

"You're a horrible liar, Krum. But…just make sure you treat her well, alright? We all have feelings for her." When Tanner saw the look in Viktor's eyes, he said, "Err—not like that, but like a brother, you know?"

Viktor grunted. "I see."

"No, I don't think you do. Just remember, she broke up with Daniel because he was too protective. Lay off a little, and she'll warm up even more. I think she might even actually like you. What'd you do for that to happen?"

He smiled softly. "We…talked."

"Man," Sam said, shaking his head depressingly, "I wish all that I had to do was talk to a girl and get her to like me."

"I saw your eyes on the English brunette, Sam," Tanner said with rolled eyes. He then turned back to Viktor. "Don't let him fool you, Viktor. Sam's a lady's man."

Viktor smiled softly and shook his head, tuning the two-man argument out as he sat down and took deep breaths. Yes, football was tiring, but it was fun, and the look of admiration from Leigh and her screams of encouragement were worth every single bruise that he got.

Leigh Ann

"Daniel and Viktor are going to kill each other."

I looked up from my talk with Jessica, one of the girls on the cheerleading team, to see what Ginny had meant by 'kill'. Of course, it was football, so there were going to be bruises, cuts, and injuries. But killing?

Viktor, in the red uniform, was almost indistinguishable from Daniel, who was in the blue uniform, because they were both covered in mud. No one else seemed to be as much as those two.

"Oh, Merlin," I groaned, rubbing my face. "Daniel's doing it again."

Ginny smiled widely. "Why, because you like Krum?"

"Well, yeah, but—" My eyes widened when I realized what I had just said. I turned to her and clasped her hands. "Ginny, you have to promise not to say anything!"

She rolled her eyes and straightened her skirt in the same moment. "I haven't said anything since I first saw you two together, so why would I now? Blimey. Viktor Krum's gonna be off the market. That'll make some girls pretty upset."

I blushed, watching the timer to the game going down to the last half minute. It was twenty-one to twenty, and Daniel had the ball. They were on the thirty yard line.

I stood up, seeing that Viktor was a linebacker for this quarter too, and yelled out, "KICK HIS ASS, VIKTOR!"

Jason, my brother, looked up from his line in Daniel's team with a slight amount of annoyance, but I just smiled and waved at him.

"That guy, Viktor, right?" I heard Samantha, one of the top girls on the cheerleading team and the skinniest, say. She was laying in the grass, her head on one of her followers' laps as she sucked on a lollypop. "He's pretty hot."

"And he's taken," Ginny said with a sly smile, looking at me with knowing eyes. I blushed, and Hermione looked on with questioning eyes.

Samantha's smile dropped, and she stuck her thick lower lip out in a pout. She actually made the effort to sit up. "But look at that ass! That's too perfect of an ass to be taken. Seriously, all the good guys are either gay or taken. Mostly gay. He isn't gay, is he?"

I felt a slow flush of anger appearing in my cheeks. Is that really what she thinks, or has she just seen me looking at him? Hell, ever since I dated Daniel, she's hung all over him! "He's taken, Moore. Back off."

"Who's he taken by, you?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and a scoffing laugh. She motioned for her three cronies, Ashley, Kayla, and Taylor, to laugh along with her. "Yeah, right! First of all, a hunk like him deserves someone better than a simple-minded military brat. I never did believe that you deserved Daniel. And secondly, I doubt he likes a woman who's fat. I mean, I just feel sorry for those men who are chubby chasers."

Lets just say that my vision went red.

Viktor Krum

"Hey, everyone stop!"

Viktor looked up to see that Sam was the one who had run out on the field, and he felt perturbed that the boy was interrupting the game. "Sam, vhat is vong?"

He ran up, his face flushed and a slight frown on his face. "The girls are fighting, and I have no idea what the hell for! But Samantha is about to get beat to a pulp."

"We're taking a timeout," Daniel called, and the entire team started rushing up to the side of the field. All they could see was a circle of girls. "Who's fighting her?"

"Leigh Ann."

Viktor then charged ahead of all of the men, gently pushing aside the girls to see that Leigh Ann was getting pulled back by Ginny and Hermione, Leigh Ann struggling to go back to the pulp on the ground.

"You're crazy!" the girl whom Viktor assumed was Samantha cried, holding her broken nose with one shaking hand. "Bitch! You're crazy!"

Leigh got loose again and pulled the girl up by her hair, kneeing her in the stomach. The girl screamed and twisted, trying to get out of Leigh's grip. "You've picked the wrong woman to insult, Moore!" she cried, throwing the woman backwards. She put her foot on the woman's stomach. "Call me a bitch one more time."

Then, before she could do anymore damage, Viktor reached out and grabbed Leigh around the waist and pulled her back, holding her arms down. "Stoop."

"V—Viktor, damn it, let me go!" she shouted, kicking him in the shin where he'd already had a bruise.

He grunted and felt slightly angry, holding her down harder. "There ees noo reason to fight!" He hugged her closer, bending down to whisper in her ear, "Vhatever eet vas, I vill assure you that eet vas noot eemportant."

She slowly calmed down, but her breathing was still heavy. Slowly, finally, he lowered her the few inches to the ground, taking a deep breath. "You…you're right, Viktor." She slowly stepped forwards, and he was ready to grab her again when she spat on Samantha, who then screamed in protest. "She's not worth it."

Then, Leigh turned around and stormed away, away from the simpering, bloodied and bruised Samantha, away from all the hot, sweaty men, and the tired women. The men somehow regained their senses and started to help Samantha, someone saying that they could finish the game some other time.

"You'd better follow her," Ginny said softly, elbowing him in the side. "Samantha got her pretty upset."

"Vhat deed she say?" Viktor asked, feeling his brow scrunching up in wonder. What could she have said to make Leigh Ann so upset?

Hermione, next to Ginny, looked down to her feet, a deep sadness etched on her face. "Ah… Samantha called Leigh…fat."

Viktor felt speechless as he watched the form of Leigh disappear over the farthest hill. "She…ah…" He couldn't even tell her that, no, Leigh wasn't fat, that she was perfect just the way she was. "I vill geet her."

"Hurry," Hermione and Ginny whispered at the same time, looking downhearted.

Viktor rushed up the hill, determined to get to Leigh before she did something that she would regret. He saw her walking ahead, and he quickly caught up to her, softly grabbing her arm and turning her around to face him.

Her beautiful face was streaked with tears, and she refused to look him in the face. He didn't say anything, though, only pulled her close and held her softly against him. She didn't move to wrap her arms back around him, only grasped his jersey and put her face in his chest. She silently cried there, staying stiff, as if she were ashamed about what had happened, like she didn't want him to see her cry.

"You are beauteefool the way you are," he said softly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. She gasped and looked up, trying to form words but failing, trying to pull away, but he wouldn't let her. Her hazel eyes were more brown than green at the moment, red and puffy, and were very wide, frightened.

"V-Viktor," she whispered, shaking her head and letting another tear fall, "I-I'm sorry, its j-just that—"

He took one hand up from her waist to cup the side of her face, using his thumb to wipe away that stray tear. "Shh."

She clenched her eyes shut angrily, pulling his hand down from the side of her face. "I-I need to go."

"He—no," he said firmly, holding her in place. "Vhat she said hurt you."

Leigh laughed without mirth, her eyes full of pity. "No shit."

He grabbed her chin betwixt his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. "She vas vong to teel you that."

"Its not like I'm the smallest card in the deck, eh, Vic?" she asked mockingly, trying to look away, but he wouldn't let her. "Besides, she's an idiot. I-I don't care what she thinks." Then her eyes took on a look of hardness, and she growled, "Let me go, Viktor."

"Then look at me, and teel me the truth."

She did, and pointedly said, "You're hurting me."

He hesitantly let her go, feeling slightly guilty that he had hurt her for those few moments. "I apoologees." But he still wouldn't remove his hand from her waist. "You do care vhat she theenks. And I ahm teeling you that I do noot."

She growled and pushed away from him with more strength than he would have thought would come from her. "You don't have to lie just to make me feel better." She was now out of his arms.

"Leahn—"

"No!" she shouted angrily, balling up her fist and angrily pounding on his chest once. "I-I'm not thin, Viktor, and I never will be, alright? I'm fine with my body the way it is, its just that s-some people aren't, and maybe I'm not okay with that."

He gestured his hand towards her body. "Deed I ever say anytheeng aboot this?" he asked, starting to feel slightly angered at her attitude. She tried to argue, to find something, but he quickly pointed at her and growled, "No, I half noot!"

"I didn't…I never said…you were never…" She pounded him on the chest once more. "You never had to, damn it!"

Viktor, in a moment of rage, reached forwards and grasped her upper arm, pulling her back to him. The look of defiance in her eyes was only slightly marred by the twinge of fear. He noticed that there were four faint red lines down her left cheek that were bleeding slightly.

He then used his other hand to roughly grab the hair on the back of her head, pulling her up until her lips were only a fraction of an inch from his.

"Viktor—" she gasped, and her eyes were confused as his possessive ones looked down to her plump petal lips. He felt a very primal urge to pull her close and make her his, to finally know what it felt like to have her in his mouth, and maybe push her to the ground and have her right then and there.

The entire game, Daniel had been too rough, as if threatening him to stay away from her, but he wouldn't have it. The entire time, all he could see was himself pummeling Daniel into the ground, and then having her run to him and kiss him, finally.

But now, seeing the fear in her eyes, and feeling his own anger at what other people couldn't see, he had to let her go and take a step back. "I…I ahm soory." He reached forwards, as if to comfort her, but she took a step back.

She bitterly rubbed her arm where he had grabbed her, not looking him in the eyes. "Don't touch me."

"I'm soory, boot I cannoot stand you talking aboot yourseelf leek that!" he shouted, narrowing his eyes at her, using his arms to show her his meaning. He shouted a curse word in Bulgarian, running his hand through his stubble of hair, glad that she had no idea what it meant.

Leigh Ann clenched her eyes shut once, twice, before she looked up at him with confused eyes. "It…really doesn't mean anything to you that I'm…overweight?"

"You are noot overweight," he said softly, looking out to the view of the small town that he had at the moment, his arms crossed over his chest. "You are…perfect."

She took a few deep breaths, her eyes confused, a jumble of emotions. He finally knew what he had to do, and he pulled out his wand, grasping her hand. "Viktor, what—"

"Troost me."

Leigh took another deep breath, closing her hazel eyes and nodding. He gently laid his wand on the skin of her chest, in the V-neck of the jersey she was wearing. He used a wordless incantation to form the small amber stone, held by only a small golden chain.

As soon as he had finished, she reached up and felt it. "Wh-what is this?"

"Eet ees my geeft to you."

Her eyes were now slightly wary, and perhaps afraid? "I-I can't. It's too valuable, I really can't take a necklace from you, Viktor."

"You are noot taking eet. I gave eet to you." He then pointed his wand at the small band in her hair, making it disappear into thin air. She gasped as her hair tumbled down around her shoulders, gently touching the swell of her hips. It was long, thick, wavy, and he wanted to run his fingers through it. "Ah, I lied."

"What?" she asked breathlessly, fear in her eyes.

He smiled softly at her. "Now, Leahn, now you are perfect."

Awwww! I want a man like how I write Viktor! Gosh, I'm such a romantic!

Anyways, here's a look at "July Third:"!

"I vould…like that very mooch. Leahn, I…" and he stopped me on the sidewalk, pulling me in front of him with a small frown on his face, a burrow between his eyebrows.

Slowly, he brought his other hand up, gently cupping the side of my face, and my heart completely stopped. My senses were heightened; I could feel the calluses on his hands, smell the deep aroma of his aftershave, and even see every little prick of his five o'clock shadow at noon. Too bad I couldn't hear my own heartbeat or breathing, because the first had stopped and the second one was being held. I couldn't help but touch my tongue to my lower lip nervously, letting my teeth graze it a little.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he pulled my face up, and gently, so softly, he touched his lips to—