CW: Teenage sexuality
Professor McGonagall maneuvered the champions and their dates over to the side of the Entrance Hall. They were to make a formal entrance and open the ball after everyone else had gone in. This gave Hermione a prime spot to look at what all her classmates were wearing and who they were with as they all went in before the Ball formally began.
Draco did, indeed, look rather like a vicar in his black velvet robes with a high collar. Pansy was on his arm, pink ruffles decorating her dress. Both of their jaws dropped when they saw Hermione, and Hermione grinned a bit and waved, a wave they both dumbly returned. Tracey wore pretty robes of lilac, and she waved excitedly to Hermione as she went in with Adrian, who appeared confused and then dumbfounded upon realizing who she was. A group of Ravenclaw students came down from their tower, and Hermione watched as Terry Boot sharply elbowed Anthony, gesturing and pointing to Hermione, and Anthony's eyes went wide and incredulous just as they all went in. Daphne was hand in arm with Zakir, beaming up at him with warm eyes, and Zakir appeared rather taken with her as well, the pair of them striking in their holiday red and green robes.
Millie was not far after, accompanying Zakir's friend Geoffrey Hooper, who looked rather pleased with himself. Millie's dress was a glittering black material, and it had straps at the edges of her shoulders and then came down to the top of her breasts in a wide V. It was designed in such a way that Millie's shoulders looked significantly less broad than usual, and Hermione wondered if it had been custom made. Geoffrey next to her was wearing one of the weirdest garments Hermione had ever seen – it looked like a black tank top with a neckline that came down to the nipple line, but with a weird black strap from one side around and over the upper arm of the other side and around to the back, before continuing down into normal robes for the rest of it. It took Hermione a moment to realize that he'd deliberately chosen robes that showed his scars – the entirety of his scars, the one across his face and the large bite mark on his shoulder and neck. Hermione wondered at the practicality of wearing sleeveless robes to a winter ball, before deciding that's what warming charms were for. It wasn't like her strapless dress wasn't similar, anyway; her cape didn't exactly provide much in the way of heat.
Once everyone was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. Hermione gave Viktor an anxious, happy grin as they lined up, and he smiled, resting his hand on top of hers, clasped on his arm as it was.
A moment later they were entering the Great Hall, which had been covered in sparkling silver frost with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. Everyone was applauding as they entered, the champions and their dates walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall where the judges were sitting. Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table. Karkaroff wore an expression of complete disbelief as he watched her and Viktor draw nearer, and Hermione's eyes narrowed, giving him a bland smile and gently steering them to sit as far away from the Durmstrang Headmaster as possible.
When they reached the table, they all sat down. Viktor drew out a chair for Hermione, and there was a bit of confusion as Blaise and Fleur tried to figure out how to sit. Fleur seemed to win out, and Hermione found herself sitting to Viktor's left with Fleur at her own left, giving her a secret smile with a wicked glint to her eyes. Blaise was at Fleur's left, looking resigned but amused, and Harry and Luna were next to him. Cedric and Cho were down at the far end, far enough away that they could be safely ignored sitting down by Crouch, and Hermione looked around the Hall as everyone got settled in. Hagrid had done a spectacular job with the decorations.
There was no food yet on the glittering golden plates, but there were small menus lying in front of each of them. Hermione watched as Dumbledore looked down at his own menu through half-moon glasses, before pronouncing very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops!"
And pork chops appeared.
Hermione rolled her eyes but smirked. It was a small thing, but Hermione would have bet a chunk of her gold that it was done to show off the sophistication of the Hogwarts House Elves to the visiting schools.
Anticipating the dancing later, Hermione ordered the prime rib and Yorkshire pudding; she watched as Harry got potatoes, ham, pudding, and candied sweet potatoes with stuffed acorn squash. She wondered if he'd regret eating so heavily once he was dancing, before reflecting that Harry probably wouldn't want to dance very much at all anyway.
Actually…
Hermione didn't really have any idea what dancing in the wizarding world looked like. She'd asked Pansy and Daphne back over the summer when she'd seen the type of dress robes they were meant to get. Both girls had dismissed her concerns as with "oh, you know, the usual ballroom kind", which was exceedingly unhelpful. Hermione had prepared by learning several of the more popular ballroom dances – the waltz, the foxtrot, the samba, the tango, the quickstep. Her father had helped in the evenings over the summer as best he could, and then Hermione had practiced by herself at school, quietly vehemently glad that she would not be the one expected to lead in the dancing.
But now, seeing how everyone was done up, with the sparkling candles glittering in the air, Hermione was struck with a new thought – what if the wizarding world was stuck even farther back in time than she thought? Would they be expected to line dance with each other?
Her curiosity proved too much to suppress, and Viktor looked puzzled when she asked him.
"Dances?" he asked. "Uhh… normal ones?"
"But what is normal?" Hermione insisted. "Will we be dancing in pairs? In lines? How does it work?"
"We dance how we want," Fleur said, cutting in with mischief in her eyes. "Mostly in pairs, but with you, Hermione, we can dance in a ménage à trois."
Hermione choked on her water. She coughed hard, well aware of her face going very red, while Viktor just looked puzzled.
"We dance with her together?" he asked Fleur, confused.
"Oh, with you?" Fleur inquired. She paused. "Well. I guess that would work too."
Once Viktor fully understood Hermione's question, he was able to answer.
"You dance with partner," he told her. "At Durmstrang, we dance polka, rylio, varu-varu, sudarushka, and Russian lyrical."
"I don't know any of those dances," Hermione said, her eyes wide. "Are they all Bulgarian? How—"
"Is okay," Viktor told her with a quirked smile. "I know some English dances."
"We don't do Bulgarian dancing at Durmstrang," Karkaroff said loudly, interjecting from several seats down and across the table. "Bulgarian music is next to impossible to dance to, and they only really do folk line dancing."
A scowl flickered across Viktor's face.
"We have uneven beats," he conceded. "But is not hard once you learn. Is more fun than some Russian ones."
"Is that why you wear trousers and doublets?" Blaise asked Viktor. "So you can do the Hopak?"
Viktor looked surprised, then pleased.
"Yes," he said. "Cannot dance in full robes. Cannot squat and kick without falling down."
"I can't imagine the energy it takes to do that sort of dance," Hermione said, laughing. "Jumping and kicking all the time seems exhausting."
Viktor grinned.
"How you think I built all my muscles?" he teased.
"I—" Hermione was caught off-guard. "I suppose I just presumed 'Quidditch'…"
"Thighs, maybe," Viktor said. "But Quidditch not demanding for Seeker. Dancing is exercise."
"I can see your legs being from dancing, maybe," Hermione said, "but what about your arms? Your chest?"
"That's clearly from picking up and twirling partners," Fleur interjected, eyes dancing. "Obviously, Hermione. His abdominal muscles, however, I would attribute to a more horizontal dance…"
This time, both Hermione and Viktor choked, going bright red.
"Ah, no," Viktor said, his face ruddy with color. "Is from sit-ups. In case fall off broom and need to climb back on."
Fleur rolled her eyes, a playful smirk on her face, before turning back to Blaise and asking him about his experience dancing.
When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked everyone else to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls to leave the floor clear. Next, he conjured a raised platform into existence along the wall, complete with a drum set, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes. Hermione's eyes sharpened, deducing that he must have been transporting the setup from somewhere else – musicians were particular about tuning and caring for their instruments, and she doubted anyone would just pick up a random guitar to play for a performance.
The Weird Sisters trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause while Hermione stared; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and Viktor offered his hand to Hermione.
"Dance?" he asked.
Hermione took a deep breath, unclasped her cape, and set it on her chair. She gave Viktor a soft smile and took his hand. "Of course."
The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune, and Hermione took the few seconds' walk to the dance floor to count out the beat – a ¾, so a waltz, she figured, relaxing. Regardless of how bizarre the music seemed, she would at least have a rough idea of how to dance to it.
Viktor seemed to know what was expected, and he led Hermione in a waltz, beginning with a very steady box step. Once they had the feel of each other, he added in a few turns and twirls, but they mostly stayed close to each other and kept their dancing rather basic. Despite the drum beat, Hermione was having a difficult time keeping the beat to the song. Next to them, Fleur and Blaise were dancing more extravagantly and flamboyantly, Blaise leading Fleur in dramatic twirls and spins. Cedric and Cho seemed to take the same approach as Viktor did, keeping it close and basic, while Harry and Luna seemed to be entirely ignoring the music, dancing something that looked closer to a rumba than a waltz.
Now that the champions had opened the Ball, Dumbledore took Madame Maxime's hand, leading her out onto the dance floor to applause, and the others took this as their invitation to join the dancing. Hermione saw Neville join the floor with Ginny, which made her smile, and Pansy and Draco joined, both of them with arrogant expressions and a determined glint in their eyes.
It quickly became evident who had grown up with pureblood dancing lessons and who had not; Draco and Pansy pranced around the floor with expert skill, Draco smoothly and effortlessly steering them while Pansy flicked out, twirling and spinning, her ruffles flaring. Daphne and Zakir were dancing to one side of the dance floor but with no less expertise, both of them totally confident and comfortable in each other. Meanwhile, Adrian was doing his best to guide Tracey, who was gamely following along but lost the beat each time he had her spin out, and Millie had given up trying to keep to a waltz, Geoffrey Hooper not knowing what the steps were at all.
The next song was faster, and the dancing became looser. Viktor was more comfortable here, loosely guiding Hermione around the floor in a quick step. Hermione caught sight of a group of Muggleborns who had formed a loose circle facing each other at one corner of the floor, all of them doing the humpty dance.
Before the next dance, Fleur came up to Viktor, her eyes bright.
"Might I cut in?"
"Uh…"
To Hermione's surprise, Fleur took Viktor's hand and led him away, giving Hermione a mischievous glance backwards as she did, and Blaise stepped up to Hermione with a grin.
"May I?"
Hermione laughed and took his hand.
Dancing with Blaise was a little easier than it was with Viktor; he was more comfortable touching her, taking her waist without hesitation and tugging her into close spins under his arm.
"The dancing will get looser and freer the longer the night goes," Blaise told her. "People won't be watching as much."
"For some reason, I still don't think people will break out into the dances I'm the most familiar with," Hermione said with a laugh.
"You can still try," Blaise said, shrugging. He grinned. "I'm looking forward to trying to tango later."
"A tango?" Hermione was astonished. "In those robes?"
"I have a tunic and trousers on underneath," he told her, a gleam in his eyes. "I came prepared."
Hermione laughed. "Fair enough."
"I'm surprised you can dance in those robes," he told her, smirking. "Those aren't exactly simple."
"There's a lot of charmwork," Hermione admitted. "Mostly feather-light charms, but a fair few air charms to keep my robes flowing in the air and not trip me."
"Your robes are long, despite the lack of sleeves," Blaise remarked. "Would you be able to tango?"
"I'd need a moment's notice, but yes," Hermione said, amused. "I put in places for slits if needed."
"You'd edit your dress on the fly?"
"Does it count as 'on the fly' if I planned for it ahead?"
For the next dance, a quick ¾ song, Fleur took Hermione's hand. Hermione didn't see where Viktor had gotten to.
"I will lead," Fleur told her, eyes sparkling. "I have practiced for this."
The fact Fleur had practiced leading in dancing just so she could dance with Hermione made her breath catch. "Okay."
Fleur settled into a classic ballroom dancing stance, with Hermione's hand on her upper arm. Fleur's own hand didn't settle on Hermione's waist, but higher, up on her bare back, almost embracing her shoulder blade. Her hand was warm and snug, holding her in a way that was very different than how her previous partners had held her, and Hermione met Fleur's eyes, a shiver of anticipation going through her, and Fleur's eyes darkened.
"I am going to pull you and throw you around," Fleur warned her, eyes glittering with mischief. "Are you ready?"
"Are you sure?" Hermione couldn't keep the skepticism from her voice. "I'm not exactly small or light…"
"I am strong," Fleur assured her. She adjusted, lifting their held hands and both of their elbows into a very poised sort of stance before she drew her closer into her, their chests touching, and Hermione's breath caught. Her eyes held hers. "Are you ready?"
Hermione nodded, mouth dry, and then they were off.
Fleur's dance was large, sweeping, and quick. Her hand on Hermione's back, she guided Hermione all over the dance floor in wide, skipping steps, spinning them as she did so. Hermione's dress flared out behind them, sweeping around them in beautiful glittering silk. Hermione had no idea how she kept up with Fleur – it was as if magic itself was guiding her steps. Fleur's 'throwing her around' didn't extend beyond spinning her under her arm several times in quick succession before sweeping her up again, but the speed and force with which she did it made the term 'throwing her around' feel rather apt.
Hermione was breathless and dizzy, spinning around the floor with Fleur, but it was like something from a fairy tale, and she didn't want it to end. Fleur's eyes were full of affection as she danced with her, tugging her into her in elegant spins. Hermione had a moment's regret that she'd taken her cape off – with this spinning, swirling dance, the fabric would have looked incredible floating in the air – but it was hard to regret anything that had brought her to this moment, being spun about on the dance floor like a princess.
When the dance finally ended, both Hermione and Fleur were breathless, but their eyes were bright.
"I—I need to sit down," Hermione admitted. "That was a lot of spinning."
Fleur laughed and helped Hermione to a chair. A moment later, Viktor materialized, offering her a drink with a quirked smile, while Blaise led Fleur off for the next one.
"That was very beautiful, but dance looked much like running in circles," he teased her. "Water?"
"You're the one who said dancing was exercise," Hermione complained, but she accepted the water gratefully as Viktor laughed. He stayed with her while she caught her breath, before asking for her hand for the next dance.
Dancing with Viktor was somehow more of a challenge than with Blaise or Fleur. With Blaise, there was a comfort to dancing, born of long familiarity and trust. With Fleur, there was a sensuality and romance to it, a current that Hermione could let sweep her away. With Viktor, it was more just dancing, and Hermione couldn't stop her head from its "slow-slow-quick-quick" count to keep time.
Was it just because she didn't know him as well? Hermione wasn't sure. She'd grown fond of Viktor and their playful friendship and flirtation over the months, and she knew she was physically attracted to him. What was the tension she felt, then? Why couldn't she get out of her head?
She wondered if part of it was a reflection of Viktor's own comfort - he was less confident leading in dancing, less confident in taking her waist and touching her. Was it because he was worried about propriety? Was it because everything between them was so new?
If Viktor found anything odd or awkward, he said nothing about it. He seemed pleased just to get to dance with her, his eyes warm and fond all evening.
Later in the dance, the dance floor broke into distinct sections: muggle-inspired dances closer to the band, with ballroom dances to the back. Hermione was surprised to find herself staying at the back, someone always eager to take her hand. She found herself dancing with Viktor, Blaise, Draco, Theo, and even Fleur a few more times over the course of the evening. Hermione laughed and clapped along as the Durmstrang students all showed off a Russian squatting dance, cheering them on. At one point she heard cheering and clapping towards the stage, and she caught a glimpse of Dean Thomas spinning on his head, which was seriously impressive. It made her wonder if she might be able to cheat to learn hard dance moves by using her air elemental. As she watched him pull off air flares and windmills, all of Gryffindor cheering him on, she decided it probably wasn't worth attempting – it looked incredibly difficult.
She expressed this thought to Fleur, who was intrigued.
"You need incredible strength to dance like he does," she said, "so it is probably not possible. For things just requiring balance, though, perhaps you could."
She showed Hermione how to do a loose pirouette and a pump turn, spinning on one leg on the ball of one foot.
"Ballerinas do this en pointe, but that takes years of practice and training," she said, laughing. "Just spinning is much easier."
Hermione envied her grace. She knew Fleur had probably practiced this for ages to make it look so effortless and beautiful, but she made it seem so natural, like it came to her as easy as breathing.
"Watch out," Hermione warned her, taking a step back to a clear back corner of the floor. "This could be bad."
Hermione's first few tries were without magic, just trying to find her sense of balance. Though her robes were cut in an A-line, they were still somewhat restrictive, and Hermione used her pre-designated slit spots, a whispered severing charm with her fingers running over the fabric, melding the fibers back together on each side. After that, it was much easier, but still a challenge.
Her air elemental, however, leapt at the challenge.
A tight vortex formed around Hermione, air pressing in on her from the sides. It made it harder to kick around as she spun on her leg, and after she spun around several times, even the air elemental wasn't able to stop her from getting viciously dizzy and falling, crashing into Fleur.
"I need to teach you spotting," Fleur said, laughing. She brushed a few loose curls from Hermione's forehead fondly, as Hermione tried to catch her breath. "But perhaps another time."
One of the Ravenclaw prefects asked Fleur for the next dance, and Blaise came up to Hermione. He'd removed his robes, revealing a violet sleeveless top and black trousers.
"Seeing as you already have slits in your dress now…" he said, giving her a suggestive smirk.
Hermione laughed. "I only know the basics of the tango."
Blaise gave her a considering look, thoughtful. "I have an idea, if you're willing to try."
"Sure," Hermione said, shrugging. "I'm always up for anything."
Blaise's plan first required them to sit down for a moment, breathe deeply, and hold hands.
"Dance can be a wordless expression of feeling and magic," Blaise told her. "If we both try and keep our magic in our bond, I'm hoping you'll be able to feel and predict what I'm going to do next before I'm even aware of it."
"Dancing isn't magical," Hermione protested. "I don't think—"
"Can we at least try?"
Breathing evenly and closing her eyes, Hermione let herself reach into her magic, immersing herself in her core before reaching for the silver bond between them. She took a deep breath to steady herself – touching the bond with her magic made her body hum, suddenly alert, and she felt Blaise's magic meet her there.
Hermione's eyes flickered open, meeting Blaise's darkened eyes, and took his outstretched hand.
Blaise's eye contact was intense, unending, and it made Hermione's breath catch. Even though she knew it was part of the dance, it was hard not to get caught up in it and carried away. Blaise let them start slowly, letting Hermione get the feel of flicking her leg around his and out during the twirls, before he started moving faster. Hermione faltered, looking at their feet and trying desperately to keep up, only to feel Blaise's magic press on the bond between them, making her gasp and her eyes fly back up to his.
"Don't think, Hermione," he breathed. "Just dance."
Time seemed to slow down.
Hermione knew she was dancing – she could feel her body moving, following Blaise's lead, spinning and twirling, - but her body was thrumming, her hands lingering on Blaise's chest. Blaise's eyes never left hers, his hands caressing her at every touch, and it felt like Hermione could feel him breathing through her somehow, like she'd become an extension of him.
Twirls and spins seemed natural and fluid, while low dips and drops became slow and sensual, lingering moves that made her breath catch. Her hips were loose, swiveling and swaying in a way Tom Riddle would be proud of. The moment seemed to linger in time, outside of the ball itself. Blaise's eyes rarely left hers, darkened with desire.
Her entire body was thrumming, like the music had transformed into a tangible current of magic shared between the two of them. One leg lift around Blaise's thigh went a little too high, and she gasped at the bump of pressure between her legs, and Blaise's eyes darkened even more, as if he could feel it through the bond too.
When the dance ended, it took Hermione a moment to return to herself and realize several people were clapping, and Blaise was using his air elemental to help him hold her up in a very dramatic dip. She was breathing hard, though she wasn't sure if it was from the dancing, or from the thrumming of the silver bond between them.
"Hermione! That was fantastique!" Fleur exclaimed, coming up to her, breathless. "So beautiful! So sensual! That was incredible!"
"It was," Viktor agreed, his eyes darkened, lingering on Hermione's bare back and exposed legs. "You must have practiced much."
Hermione laughed awkwardly, not sure what to say, only to be saved by Luna materializing from nowhere to ask Blaise for the next dance. Fleur asked Viktor for the next dance, and Harry grinned at Hermione, almost nervously.
"I can't dance like that," he said, "but want to dance anyway?"
Hermione laughed. "Of course."
It was a slower song, which Harry seemed grateful for – he was much more of a 'stay in place and sway' sort of dancer.
"You seem to be having fun," Harry commented, smiling. "Your dress has caused quite the stir."
"Oh, has it?" Hermione asked, excited. "I hoped it would – but I could hardly ask people myself—"
"The other girls apparently won't shut up about it," Harry said, laughing. "Ron was whining about it earlier. Not that I can blame the girls – you're glittering like a rock star, dancing. It's hard to not look at you."
"Is it too much?" Hermione asked, a bit nervous. "I know it's over the top, but Viktor's an international Quidditch star, and—"
"Hermione," Harry said, cutting her off. "You know it's ridiculously over the top – have you ever seen anyone ever wear something like this before?"
"Well," Hermione said, still swaying in a circle with him. "Um. No."
"And yet, you did it anyway," Harry said, his voice fond. "Admit it to yourself, Hermione; you did it because you wanted to. You don't actually care what anyone else thinks; you just feel like you should, even if you actually don't."
Hermione was struck speechless, and Harry's smile was guileless, honest.
"It's not a bad thing," he assured you. "But you're always making your own path, Hermione. You don't really care what's proper or not – you only pretend just enough to fit in with the purebloods."
Hermione didn't really know what to say in response to that, so she just smiled at him a bit sheepishly as they danced.
The next dance was a Russian-sounding one, and Viktor returned to her side, extending his hand.
"I must to claim this dance," he told her and Harry, grinning. "I want my partner for this."
Harry laughed and gave Viktor a nod before wandering off, and Hermione took Viktor's hand, her eyes holding his. His eyes darkened as he pulled her closer, more confident as he settled them into a familiar stance, and Hermione's breath caught in her throat.
Dancing with Viktor was different, this time.
He was leading her in a polka, she could tell, and she wasn't as good at timing the hops with him as she liked. To compensate, she found herself leaning into him more, pressing herself against his chest so his hops could help support her as well, and she heard Viktor's breath catch. She could feel his heart rate increase under her touch, and it gave her confidence to lift her eyes to meet his.
This time, the tension between them didn't seem awkward – it felt teasing, like a promise yet still to be kept, and Hermione was able to give herself up to it as they danced around the floor. Viktor's breath was coming quicker too as he looked down at her, and Hermione couldn't help the thrill she felt under his dark eyes, her body shivering against him. Part of her mind was dimly analyzing it – this was transference, her mind redirecting the desire she'd felt earlier with Blaise onto Viktor – but the rest of her didn't care in the slightest. Viktor's eyes were molten on hers, and Hermione found she didn't care how she'd entered such a state – only that Viktor didn't seem to mind, and he was helping to fan the flames of her desire.
After the dance, Viktor couldn't tear his eyes from hers, and Hermione found she didn't want to let go either.
"Is hot," he said, his voice low, hoarse. "We go outside?"
"That'd be excellent," Hermione agreed, her own voice a bit breathy, and Viktor escorted her outside into the Entrance Hall. A maze of rose gardens had been grown from nowhere for the ball attendees to roam and enjoy just outside the Entrance Hall, and Hermione paused as Viktor led them toward the door. Viktor looked at her curiously.
"I have an idea," Hermione said. "Follow me."
She led him down a small hallway off the Entrance Hall, before stopping at a perfectly normal-looking patch of bricks.
"Synstylae."
Relief flooded Hermione as the bricks shifted, forming a door that swung open on invisible hinges, revealing the snowy outside.
"Hogwarts has a real rose garden," she told Viktor as she led him outside. "I figured this would be less crowded."
"This is beautiful," Viktor marveled. He looked down at her. "Thank you."
"My pleasure," Hermione said, smiling. "I thought you'd like it."
The gardens here were quiet. There were faint strains of music that could be heard, perhaps from opened windows in the Great Hall somewhere, but there were no other couples talking, no water features bubbling away. They walked a short ways into them, just appreciating the cold air and quiet together.
"You are beautiful, Hermione," Viktor said hoarsely, and Hermione looked back up at him. His eyes were dark, and Hermione's breath caught.
"Thank you," she murmured.
His eyes didn't leave hers. One hand came up to touch her neck, then to cup her face.
"Can I kiss you?" Viktor's voice was hoarse.
"That depends," Hermione murmured, feeling a thrill. "Where?"
Viktor groaned, a tortured sound, and then he leaned down and kissed her.
His lips were softer than she'd remembered, his kiss soft and tentative, before coming back with more pressure, kissing her with more intensity. He was an exceptionally good kisser, she thought dizzily – just the right amount of pressure, the way he was holding her face in his hands, the way his lips sent thrills through her body. She felt his lips open against hers, wanting, and a whimper caught in the back of her throat. The feeling of the tip of his tongue against the crease of her opening lips was there a moment later, and Hermione moaned and kissed him back with increasing fervor.
Viktor growled, kissing her harder, and Hermione's head clouded with desire as she wound her arms around him, pulling him closer. He was taller than her, and she had to crane her head back to kiss him. She pushed up onto her tiptoes, trying to get closer still, and Viktor seemed to realize her struggle a moment later, and he broke the kiss, both of them panting.
"You're too tall," Hermione moaned. "There's a bench – we could sit—"
Viktor ignored Hermione's idea entirely. Instead, he reached down and lifted her, hauling her up the length of his body like she weighed nothing. Hermione squealed, grabbing him and wrapping her legs around him tightly so she wouldn't fall while Viktor pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her neck, nuzzling, and dragging his teeth along the skin.
"Is okay?" he murmured.
"You're just going to hold me here?" Hermione gasped. "While we snog?"
"Yes." It seemed a non-issue to Viktor, who was preoccupied with kissing his way up Hermione's neck. His hands flexed, and with a gasp, Hermione abruptly became aware that he was grabbing her arse to hold her against him.
"Can we—" It was hard to articulate thoughts or find the right words. "You can't move your hands like this – can we—"
Viktor nodded, then dropped her slightly so he could kiss her again, dizzying Hermione's mind further. She only realized he was walking with her wrapped around him a moment later, when he found a wall, pressing her up against it the cold stone with his body. Her weight settled onto one of his legs, bent into a sort of seat for her, and his eyes seemed to glow at her.
"Better?" he asked. His voice was gravelly, and it sent shivers through her body just listening to it.
"Yes…" She leaned and kissed him this time, a moan on her lips as he responded immediately, heatedly, and she found herself lost in his kisses, wrapped around him like a snake on a tree as he growled and kissed her for all he was worth.
By the time Hermione returned to the Slytherin girls' dormitory, it was far past curfew. Her hair was tangled from Viktor's hands running through it, and the Acromantula silk of her skirt was wrinkled. She intercepted Tracey in the bathroom also getting ready for bed, her own hair a mess. Tracey had love bites scattered over her neck, and she gave Hermione a knowing grin as she came in.
"Have fun with Viktor?" she said slyly, and she laughed as Hermione flushed.
"We were in the rose garden," Hermione confessed, as she tried to brush the tangles from her hair. "Not the new ones – the proper one, in the hidden courtyard. He—he's an incredible kisser."
"From the way your legs are shaking, I'd guess he did more than just snog you," Tracey said, smirking, and Hermione's face grew redder. "It's fine, you know," Tracey added, a moment later. "There's nothing to be embarrassed over. I tease because I care about you."
Hermione bit her bottom lip, hesitating.
"He—he had me pressed up against the wall, and somehow that ended up with me unintentionally riding his thigh," Hermione said. "He realized what was happening, and then—he went wild, Tracey, kissing me harder and growling things in Bulgarian, rucking up my skirt to touch me there directly."
"He did?" Tracey looked mildly impressed. "Skipped entirely over second base, did he?"
"He tried," Hermione said, smirking fondly as she remembered. "But the diamonds on the robes – he couldn't really grope me there, without my robes stabbing his hands. The slits in the skirt let him grab at my arse, though, and then…"
Tracey's eyes had a gleam. "How far did you go?"
Hermione took a deep breath. If she was adult enough to do the act, she was adult enough to talk about it.
"He—he used his fingers on me," she said. "Stroking – and then pushing one finger inside me." She shuddered slightly at the memory. "He has—his hands are big. His fingers are thick—he only needed one—"
"I've seen the size of his fingers," Tracey quipped, smirking. She grinned at Hermione. "Was it good?"
Hermione could feel her cheeks heat, but she kept her head high. "I got off, if that's what you mean," she said. "By it being 'good'."
Tracey laughed.
"That's definitely part of it being good," she said. She smirked. "Did he?"
"Umm—yeah." Hermione went crimson. "When I—I was grinding and kind of writhing against him, I guess, and he—"
Tracey's eyes widened. "Right there in the gardens? Into his robes?"
"…yes," Hermione admitted. She glanced at Tracey. "Is that bad?"
"It's not bad," Tracey said. "A bit surprising, I guess – given his age and celebrity, I'd have expected him to last longer." She grinned. "If nothing else, it means he's really into you. And it got you off the hook from doing anything more."
Hermione blinked.
"I never considered that," she said. She looked at Tracey, wide-eyed. "Do you think if he hadn't, I'd have needed to return the favor?"
"Not needed to, but he'd definitely have appreciated it," Tracey said, quirking an eyebrow. "Never touched a penis?" she asked.
"Not—not directly," Hermione admitted. "Just like—through grinding when snogging and whatnot. But not with my hand."
"They're weird," Tracey told her frankly. "They're warm and can be fun, but the first time you see one up close in person, they're definitely weird-looking little worms."
Hermione laughed.
"Have you—you've seen Adrian's?" she asked. "You've gone that far?"
"Oh, yeah," Tracey said dismissively. "We've been doing that for ages, now. Oral, too." She hesitated. "Tonight was the first time I let him go all the way."
"You did?" Hermione gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide. "Was it—what was it like? Did it hurt?"
"It was…" Tracey seemed torn for words. "It was nice," she finally settled on. "It was a bit awkward, because he seemed so much more into it than I was. He'd gotten me off beforehand with his mouth, so that was fine, but he kept groaning and was super into it…" Tracey winced. "He kept—he kept saying things – going on about how perfect I was, how much he wanted me, how he'd never let me go. It was all a bit much, really. I'd just wanted to finally go the full monty, not have a full-blown very emotional thing."
Hermione bit her lip, holding back her instinctive first response; it sounded like Adrian had been making love, when Tracey had just wanted to fool around. Instead, she asked, "Are you taking the potion?"
"Oh, of course," Tracey said, as if it were obvious. "Been on it since the beginning of the year just in case, actually."
"Are you going to do it again?" Hermione asked, and Tracey frowned.
"I mean, probably?" she hazarded a guess. "Now that we've done it once, he'll probably want to go all the way more often. It's like—once you open a gate, you can't really close it easily, you know. And I'd like to see if we can get better at it. It was sort of nice, and I liked him being that close, but it—" she shrugged, blasé, her eyes gleaming with mirth. "It didn't exactly rock my socks off, if you know what I mean. We'll have to practice to get better at it."
Hermione and Tracey dissolved into quiet giggles as they finished getting ready for bed.
