Hermione's eyelids fluttered open, a wave of drowsiness washing over her. She felt a comforting warmth seep into her, a much-needed break from the exhaustion that had been dragging her down. A pleasant pressure settled between her shoulder blades. It took her a moment, her mind still foggy with sleep, to realize she was leaning against something solid and warm.

Or rather, someone.

Viktor.

She was plastered against Viktor Krum's side, his arm around her shoulders. His head was tilted back against the wall, his dark hair falling over his forehead. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the faint scent of pine and broom polish.

Heat crept up her neck, flooding her cheeks. Mortification made her want to disappear. She had fallen asleep on him! How could she have been so utterly irresponsible? How long had she been leaning on him like this?

Carefully, she tried to disentangle herself, hoping to escape before he woke. She should have known better. Sensing her movement, Viktor's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking with hers. His lips curved into a small, sleepy smile.

"Hello, Her-my-oh-knee" he murmured.

"Viktor," she blurted, flustered. "I… I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

"It is fine. You vere tired."

His gaze was surprisingly gentle, and understanding. No judgment, no harsh comments she might get from Ron…

Ron.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, the memory of Ron's sullen face and tight-lipped silences flashing through her mind. It had been like that ever since… since they had kissed in the Chamber of Secrets.

A triumphant kiss. A kiss to celebrate their victory over Voldemort.

A kiss that, in hindsight, should never have happened.

Ron had been acting strange ever since, almost possessive, clinging to her side, constantly seeking her approval. It was suffocating. And to be honest, it was more than a little annoying.

The kiss had been a mistake. A huge, monumental mistake. What in God's good name had possessed her?

She hadn't even enjoyed it. It wasn't fair to Ron, and it certainly wasn't fair to her.

"You should get some more rest," Viktor's deep voice startled her from her thoughts.

"I can't," she argued, shaking her head. "There's too much to do."

He didn't try to argue further, to convince her, which surprised her. Harry would have launched into a lecture. Ron would have sulked. But Viktor merely shook his head, his gaze steady and understanding. It was oddly comforting.

A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She thought of the hag's potion, tucked safely in her pocket.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time to take the risk. Hermione's fingers closed around the small vial in her pocket.

"Vot is that?"

"Oh, just an energy tonic," Hermione lied smoothly. When had lying become so easy? "I've been working long hours."

She uncorked the vial, and a heady aroma filled the air - something floral and intoxicating. Hermione's head swam as she inhaled deeply.

"Vot tonic is it?"

"It's, um, a special blend. A friend gave it to me."

His dark eyebrow quirked up and he shook his head. Before she could second-guess herself, she tipped the vial back, the liquid burning pleasantly as it slid down her throat. Warmth bloomed in her chest, spreading outward until her whole body tingled. The exhaustion melted away, replaced by a languid relaxation. Her skin felt hypersensitive, every brush of fabric sending shivers through her. Hermione's gaze drifted to Viktor. Had his eyes always been so intense?

She was mesmerized by the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips. Viktor's breathing had quickened, his hands clenched at his sides. A flush crept up his neck as he stared at her, pupils dilated. Heat pooled low in Hermione's belly. She licked her suddenly dry lips.

Yet when she met Viktor's gaze again, something shifted.

She'd always known Viktor was attractive, objectively speaking. But now... now she truly saw him. The strong line of his jaw, the breadth of his shoulders, the way his shirt stretched across his chest. Heat bloomed in her cheeks, and traveled lower until it settled between her legs.

They got back to work. or at least she tried to. Every time he reached up to place a book on a high shelf, his shirt rode up, revealing a strip of toned abdomen. Her eyes were drawn to the flex of his biceps as he lifted heavy tomes.

What was happening to her? This wasn't like her at all. She'd never been so... so distracted by someone's physicality before. Yet she couldn't seem to stop herself from stealing glances at Viktor, admiring the way he moved.

At one point, Viktor bent to retrieve a fallen book, and Hermione's gaze was drawn to the curve of his backside. She felt her face flame, her cunt throbbed and she quickly crossed her legs. This was madness. Complete and utter madness.

"Her-my-oh-knee?" Viktor's voice startled her from her thoughts. She jerked her gaze up, meeting his eyes. There was amusement there, and something else... something that made her pulse quicken. "See something you like?" he asked.

Hermione's mouth went dry. Had he caught her staring? The old Hermione would have stammered, blushed, and denied everything. But this new Hermione, the one fueled by a strange potion tilted her chin up, meeting his gaze squarely.

"Perhaps I do," she replied.

Viktor's eyebrows shot up. For a moment, just a moment, something flashed in his eyes. Desire. Want. Need. It was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual stoic expression, but Hermione had seen it, even if he tried to hide it now.

"You and Veasley—"

"We're not," Hermione interrupted. Too quickly, perhaps. "Ron and I—we'rejustfriends."

Viktor studied her for a long moment. "I see," he said finally. "Like ve are friends?"

Yes, right? Viktor and her were just friends. Like she was friends with Ron and Harry. But she couldn't bring herself to say that, not when it felt like she was lying. She knew what he was asking, and maybe, maybe she was reading too much into the lines, but if his eyes were any indication of what he really meant, she was right.

"No, not like that."

She took a step closer to Viktor. He didn't move away.

"Viktor," she breathed, unsure what she was going to say next.

He reached out, brushing a stray curl from her face. His fingers lingered on her cheek, warm and calloused.

"Her-my-oh-knee," he murmured.

They were so close now. So close that if she lifted her hand she could touch him. He smelled good, making her head hazy. Her gaze dropped to his lips, full and inviting.

Viktor's hand cupped her cheek, tilting her face up. Their eyes met, his eyes were hungry. She swayed towards him, her body moving on its own.

"Her-my-oh-knee," he breathed, his accent so thick she barely registered that he was saying her name. "Can I kiss you?"

She needed to stop, she was not being herself. At least that is what she wanted to believe. A large part of her had wanted this—wanted him since she was 14, but she had been too scared back then to do anything. But now she had the power. If she wanted to, she could tell him no and walk away and she knew that Viktor would understand. He simply was that person. But she did want this, she wanted him.

"Yes, Viktor, you can kiss me."

And then he was kissing her, his lips warm and insistent against hers. Hermione melted into him, her arms winding around his neck as she pressed herself against his body.

The kiss was everything she'd never known she wanted. This kiss was not like Ron's. This kiss was passionate, and demanding. There was no fumbling, Viktor's tongue teased the seam of her lips, and she opened for him with a soft moan. She liked that he took charge, she didn't have to think, she just had to follow.

His hands roamed her body. Hermione arched into his touch, desperate for more. She tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging lightly, and was rewarded with a low growl that had her clenching her legs.

Viktor backed her up against a bookshelf, his body pinning her. Hermione gasped as she felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against her stomach. She rolled her hips experimentally, drawing a groan from Viktor.

"Her-my-oh-knee," he panted, breaking the kiss to trail his lips along her jaw. "Ve should stop. This is... this is too fast."

Hermione whined in protest, pulling him back for another searing kiss. "I don't want to stop," she murmured against his lips. "I want you, Viktor. All of you."

Viktor groaned, his resolve visibly crumbling. He captured her lips again, the kiss deep and hungry. His hands slid down to her thighs, lifting her easily. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, gasping at the friction.

"Not here," Viktor said, his voice rough with desire. "Not like this. You deserve better."

He was right. But Hermione didn't care. There was this intense, overwhelming need in her that demanded release.

"Please, Viktor," she whined.

"Her-my-oh-knee," he tried again. She could see the conflict in his face, but sheneededthis.

"I am sure,please."

His jaw set and she brushed her fingers along the edge of it.

"Please."

Hermione's heart thundered as Viktor's lips met hers again. Her body, her nipples, her cunt, everything tingled with each touch, craving more. She grasped his strong shoulders, pulling him closer as she backed into the shadows of the towering bookshelves.

Merlin this was all kinds of wrong, but she didn't care.

"We should go somewhere more private," she whispered breathlessly between kisses.

Viktor shook his head, following as she led him deeper into the maze-like stacks. They ducked into a secluded alcove, hidden from view. Hermione's back pressed against the cool stone wall as Viktor's muscular form pinned her there. His hands roamed her body, she closed her eyes, enjoying the way his calluses scraped against her skin.

She ran her fingers through his short dark hair. Their kisses grew more heated and urgent. Hermione felt dizzy with desire, her legs weak. She clung to Viktor for support as his lips trailed along her jaw and down her neck.

Viktor's lips traveled along the column of her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point in a way that had her closing her eyes. Her hands, almost of their own accord, found their way under the hem of his shirt, fingers splayed across the firm muscles, tracing the contours of his broad back. His warmth against the cool stone was electric.

His fingers were equally exploratory, deftly working the buttons of her blouse with a quiet, undeniable confidence that left her feeling both exposed and exhilarated. Each newly bared inch of skin was met with a reverent kiss or a soft caress, stoking the fire of her flushed face. Hermione's head fell back against the wall, her eyes fluttering closed as she surrendered to the sensation of his touch.

She held her breath. Viktor's hand boldly ventured southward, his fingers tracing the edge of her jeans before slipping beneath the denim. The warmth of his touch met the damp fabric of her knickers. She gasped, gripping his shoulders hard. Her lips parted, a soft, needy moan slipping out as she bit down on her lower lip, her body instinctively arching.

"Wait," she managed to breathe out. "I... I've never done this before."

Viktor's movements stilled, he lifted his head to meet her gaze, his dark eyes searching hers. "You are virgin?"

Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as she nodded, her eyes unable to hold his steady gaze.

A tender smile graced Viktor's lips, his voice was gentle. "Is okay. Ve go slov. I make you feel good, yes?"

Hermione's heart fluttered. He clearly was very experienced, and while she should have felt incompetent she didn't.

He stopped and Hermione furrowed her brow.

"Why did you stop?"

"I need you to tell me it is okay, Her-my-oh-knee."

"It's okay, Viktor."

"You are sure?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

Hermione playfully rolled her eyes. "Yes, Viktor I am sure."

"Okay, kote."

Viktor leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss as his fingers continued. They danced gently over the thin fabric that separated his skin from hers, each caress only made her wetter.

"I vill take care of you," he whispered against her skin. "Just relax."

A whimper escaped Hermione's throat as the sensations became almost too much. Her body was alive with a fire she had never known, each touch, each kiss from Viktor stoking the flames higher. In this moment, she didn't have to worry about anything, in this moment she washis—completely and irrevocablyhis—and she surrendered to the delicious sensations that threatened to overwhelm her.

Glancing around, Viktor spotted a sturdy wooden table nearby. With a flick of his wand, he transfigured it into a plush velvet couch. He guided Hermione to lie down, hovering over her as they continued kissing.

With a shuddering gasp, Viktor's skilled fingers slip beneath her knickers. Her body was a symphony of sensations, each touch sending sparks through her veins. His fingers explored her slick folds. Hermione arched into his touch, her body wanted more.

As Viktor's thumb found her clit she let out a soft cry, "Oh!"

"Are you okay?"

"Y-yes."

Viktor slowly experimented with his touch. He tried out several movements, each one making her skin prickle. His fingers pressed and danced over her swollen clit, varying the pressure.

Then he found it. The perfect pressure. "Gods, Viktor! That feels— Oh!" Instead of slowing down, he kept up the delicious rhythm. He kissed her neck, her jaw, her temple, his delicious fingers working her clit to an abandon Hermione didn't know was possible.

A coiling sensation built within her, each pass of his thumb had her toes curled.

He slid a finger inside her. "Ah!"

The sensation was unfamiliar, yet it made her want more. Hermione relished the feeling of his finger exploring her wet cunt. Viktor's movements were slow and gentle, a delicious dance of new sensations that Hermione found herself eager to follow.

At first, she could only lay there, overwhelmed by the tidal wave of pleasure that washed over her. But as Viktor's rhythm grew steadier, Hermione felt her own body begin to respond. Her hips began to rock against his hand, their rhythm becoming one as she sought more of the exquisite sensation.

Clutching at his shoulders, Hermione moaned softly, the sounds lost against his neck. Her breath came in shallow gasps, every inhale a desperate attempt to draw in more air.

"That is it," he whispered against her ear. "Let go, kote. I haff you. Let go."

He had her.

Those words undid her. A few more expert strokes of his fingers, and Hermione was tumbling over the edge. Her body convulsed, waves of ecstasy washing over her. She buried her face against his neck, muffling her cries.

As she came down from her high, Viktor whispered a lubrication and contraceptive spell. He positioned himself between her thighs, looking into her eyes.

"You ready?" he asked softly.

Hermione nodded.

"Vords, Her-my-oh-knee."

"Y-yes, I am sure," she answered, pulling him down for a deep kiss.

Hermione's mind was consumed by the fact she was about to lose her virginity to Viktor Krum in the library. She waited to feel regret, shame, anything but all she felt was excitement and anticipation.

Viktor's cock gently brushed against her swollen, aching cunt. She wanted him to fill her, show her what sex felt like.

"Please," she begged him, as she looked into his dark brown eyes.

Viktor's response was a soft, comforting kiss pressed against her forehead. "Tell me if it hurts."

"I will."

The intrusion was a sharp, unexpected contrast to the gentle play of his fingers. Hermione's breath hitched, a gasp caught in her throat as a fleeting wince contorted her features.

Viktor, ever attentive, immediately stilled, his dark eyes searching hers with a concern that tugged at her heart. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay really."

He paused, studying her face.

"Really?"

"Yes, really." If it wasn't for the stinging sensation, she would have smiled.

The head of his cock, hot and hard against her entrance, made her cunt throb with anticipation. His dark brown eyes locked on hers. His face was a mask of concentration, his movements slow and deliberate. It was like he was trying to bottle this moment, every touch, every feeling. He leaned in closer, his hands cradling her face.

When he was fully in her, Viktor stopped moving, his body tensed. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his jaw was tight. He tilted his head back, opened his eyes, and stroked her cheek, yet he didn't rush her, didn't move as she adjusted to him, the stinging slowly subsiding.

"Is okay?" he reassured her with soft kisses on her temple.

"Yes, it's okay," she said softly, her hands moving to his back, feeling the muscles tremble beneath her touch.

"Ve can stop."

But Hermione didn't want to stop. She shook her head, her eyes locking with his. "No, I don't want to stop. I want this... I want you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Alright, kote. Ve go slow." His voice was gentle, and caring.

As he began to move, Hermione found herself adjusting to the unfamiliar sensation of him inside her. Even with her inexperience, she could tell he was holding back for her. Each slow deliberate thrust allowed her cunt to adjust to his cock. After the discomfort ebbed away, she arched her back and found that the sting was replaced by a burgeoning pleasure.

"Oh," she moaned, letting out a sigh of pleasure at the feeling of fullness.

Viktor's movements were a careful, controlled surrender that allowed Hermione to set the pace. With each passing moment, each gentle thrust the initial pain was forgotten, lost in the growing tide of desire that was coiling in her.

She craved more.

She wanted to feel the raw, unbridled passion she knew he was probably capable of. She wanted a Viktor who didn't hold back, a Viktor whose face wasn't controlled. She wanted to see him flushed with pleasure, the same pleasure he had shown her earlier.

"Faster, Viktor," she rasped. "Please."

His response was a low growl. A sound she liked and instantly wanted to hear more of.

"Are you sure?"

Hermione nodded, her fingernails digging into the firm muscles of his back, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. "I'm sure. I want all of you. Therealyou, not this you who is holding back."

The change in him was immediate. His control snapped, replaced by a fierce hunger-lust that made her heart race with anticipation. His eyes darkened, held hers as he began to move faster, his hips thrusting with a rhythm that was both primitive and beautiful.

Each drive of his cock inside her felt like a claim. The sound of their bodies coming together, the wet slide of his flesh against hers, filled the quiet library.

Hermione's breath came in shallow gasps, each thrust pushing her closer to the precipice. Her body arched to meet his, her own hunger matching his stroke for stroke. The friction of their bodies was a sweet torment, a delicious friction.

Viktor's hands, which had been cradling her face, now roamed her body with a reverent urgency. They explored the curves of her hips, and the swell of her breasts with each touch. She didn't know how it was possible that he could still make her wetter, but here he was with those marvelous hands of his.

"You feel sofuckinggood, Her-mi-oh-ninny," he ground out between clenched teeth. "So tight, soperfect. Sobeautiful."

His words, raw and unfiltered, made her cunt clench around his cock.

"I'm close, Viktor," she moaned.

He smirked, he actually smirked at her. She opened her mouth but the only sound that came was another moan as his finger found her clit. She closed her eyes and threw her head back.

The world around them had ceased to exist. There was no Hogwarts, no restoration efforts, no war that had torn their world apart. There was only Viktor and the way he made her feel—cherished, desired,alive.

"Let go," he purred. With a final, powerful thrust and a tug at her clit, Hermione felt herself tumbling over the edge.

Her body convulsed around him, and waves of pleasure crashed over her. "Viktor!" The sound of her voice, ragged and hoarse, echoed through the library.

"мамка му," he moaned, his body shuddering as he came. His forehead rested against hers.

For a long moment, they lay there, entwined, their bodies slick with sweat.

"You vere amazing," Viktor cooed. "Hov do you feel?"

A soft smile played on Hermione's lips. "I'm fine," she assured him, her voice a bit hoarse. "It was, um, great."

Viktor shook his head and smiled. Really smiled at her, not one of those forced smiles she sometimes saw in Harry's Quidditch magazines.

He reached for his wand, muttering a quick "Scourgify" followed by "Tergeo." The spells left them both clean and refreshed, outsideandinside.

To Hermione's surprise, Viktor's hands began to roam her body once more, but this time with a different intent. His strong fingers kneaded her muscles, working out knots she hadn't even realized were there. He peppered her skin with soft kisses, murmuring words of praise that made her cheeks flush.

With a wave of his wand, Viktor transfigured a handkerchief into a hot compress. He pressed it gently against her stomach, the warmth seeping into her muscles. "This vill help," he explained softly. "Make you feel better."

Hermione felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. Viktor's thoughtfulness and care touched her deeply. She had never expected him to be so attentive, so sweet. Yet again she never expected to have sex with him, but here she was. Now that the fog of lust had lifted she was expecting to feel regret, shame at the very least for defiling the library, but nothing came, other than them, that was.

Another flick of his wand, and Viktor's discarded shirt transformed into a soft blanket. He settled beside her, draping the blanket over them both. Hermione hesitated. She still had so much to do.

As if reading her thoughts, Viktor nodded "You haff done enough," he said firmly. "The vork vill be there tomorrow."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but found she didn't have the energy. Maybe the potion had a delayed effect? With a resigned sigh, she settled back against Viktor's chest, telling herself it would only be for a moment.

But Viktor was warm and comfortable, and Hermione found herself feeling surprisingly content. The stress and exhaustion of the past weeks seemed to melt away in his embrace. She snuggled deeper into his arms, a small, happy sigh escaping her lips.

Viktor's fingers found their way to the base of her neck, gently massaging the tense muscles there. The soothing motion, combined with the warmth of the blanket and Viktor's body, lulled Hermione into a state of deep relaxation.

As her eyelids grew heavy, Hermione's last conscious thought was how unexpectedly perfect this moment felt. Safe in Viktor's arms, she drifted off into a peaceful sleep, the worries of the world fading away, if only for a little while.