Viktor leaned over Hermione's shoulder, his chest pressed against her back as she spread out a worn map on the hag's rickety table. The tiny hut forced them close together, and he caught a whiff of her hair, like the pervert he was.
"There," Hermione pointed to a spot on the map. "The Whispering Woods. That's where we'll find the Midnight Bloom."
Viktor shook his head, his chin almost brushing her ear. "How do ve know vhere to look exactly?"
Hermione turned her head slightly, her cheek nearly grazing his. "The hag said it grows near the heart of the forest, where the trees whisper the loudest."
"Sounds like ve have our vork cut out for us," Viktor murmured. She was so close that he could almost touch her, taste her.
Hermione shifted, trying to get a better look at the map, but the movement only pressed her more firmly against him. Viktor swallowed hard, willing himself to focus on the task at hand.
"I think we have everything we need to harvest the Midnight Bloom."
Viktor hummed in agreement, his eyes tracing the path they'd need to take.
Hermione nodded, her hair tickling his chin.
As they continued to study the map, Viktor found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. The warmth of Hermione's body against his, the soft sound of her breathing, the way her fingers traced lines on the parchment—it all threatened to overwhelm him.
His eyes traced the curve of Hermione's lips, remembering how soft they felt against his.
"Now, now, lovebirds," the hag's raspy voice cut through the moment. ""I may be old, but I'm not dead. No hanky-panky in my hut. Take that outside if you must."
Hermione jumped back, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. Viktor fought back a smirk. Why was her blushing face so damn erotic?
"We weren't - I mean, we didn't -" Hermione stammered, avoiding his gaze.
"Oh, spare me the denials, dearie," the hag interrupted. "I may be ancient, but I'm not blind. I can see the way you two look at each other."
Hermione's blush deepened.
"I'm so sorry, Viktor," she whispered. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't been so foolish-"
Viktor cut her off, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "No, Her-my-oh-knee. It is not your fault. The potion affected us both."
So it had been the potion that had made them act like that. While he probably should have felt assaulted and violated, he almost thanked the hag. If it hadn't been for her, they probably would have parted ways by now. Yes, the situation wasn't ideal, but here he was standing so close to Hermione. He'd make it up to her any way he could, any way she wanted, but for now, he would enjoy her presence.
She nodded, but he could see the guilt still lingering in her eyes. "But I shouldn't have-"
"You should not haff vot?" Viktor asked, his voice low and husky. "Should not haff let me touch you? Should not haff moaned my name?" He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "Should not haff come in my arms?"
Hermione shivered and licked her lips. "Viktor," she whined, and the breathy sound went straight to his cock.
He pulled back slightly, meeting her gaze. "The hag is right, you know. There vas attraction there all along. The potion just helped."
She bit her lip. "But... but that can't be true. We barely knew each other. It's been years since-"
Viktor nodded. "Time does not matter. Vot I felt for you then, vot I feel now - it has alvays been there."
The air between them crackled with tension. Viktor could feel the heat radiating from Hermione's body and could hear the quickening of her breath. She licked her lips, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to capture them with his own.
"It's... it's just the potion," Hermione said weakly, but her eyes never left his lips. "That's why we're acting this way."
Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice challenging. He leaned in even closer, their noses almost touching. "Because vot I feel right now - that is not the potion, Her-my-oh-knee. That is all me. Every touch, every kiss - that vas me vanting you."
Hermione's eyes fluttered closed. "Viktor," she breathed, he could hear the longing in her voice.
Just as he was about to close the distance between them, a spray of cold water hit them both in the face. They jumped apart, spluttering.
The hag stood there, holding a spray bottle and looking thoroughly amused. "I told you, no hanky-panky in my hut. I won't have you defiling my workspace."
Hermione looked mortified, wiping water from her face. "We should go," she said quickly. "We need to find that ingredient and come back right away. We're clearly not thinking straight."
As they gathered their things to leave, the hag called out, "Oh, and dearie? What you're feeling - what you'rebothfeeling - has nothing to do with the potion or the tattoos. The potion only works once, remember? Everything after that first night? That's all you."
Hermione's face turned an impossible shade of red as she rushed out of the hut. Viktor followed, fighting back a grin.
As they made their way through the forest towards the Whispering Woods, Viktor was constantly drawn to Hermione. He helped her over fallen logs, his hand lingering on her lower back. When she stumbled on a root, he caught her, pulling her close against his chest.
"Careful," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.
Hermione shivered but didn't pull away immediately. "Thank you," she said softly, her eyes meeting his for a brief, charged moment before she stepped back.
"So, Hermy-own-ninny," Viktor said, deliberately mispronouncing her name as he used to. "Tell me, haff you alvays liked libraries?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, but he could see the smile tugging at her lips. "Oh, stop it. You know how to say my name properly now."
Viktor grinned. "Maybe I just like the vay you look vhen you are annoyed vith me."
She swatted his arm playfully. "Prat."
He caught her hand, bringing it to his lips and placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Your prat, though."
He waited for her to correct him but she didn't.
. For a moment, Viktor thought he'd gone too far, but then she smiled - a soft, shy thing that made his heart skip a beat.
As they continued their journey, Viktor found more and more excuses to touch her. Each lamer than the last. A hand on her waist as he helped her over a particularly tricky patch of ground. Fingers brushed against hers as they walked side by side. Each touch only made him want to touch her more, and he could see the effect it had on Hermione too - the way her breath quickened, the flush that crept up her neck.
They were so caught up in each other that they almost missed the first signs of danger. A low growl rumbled through the forest, causing the birds to fall silent and the air to grow still.
Viktor tensed, his instincts kicking in. He scanned the area, trying to locate the source of the sound. Beside him, Hermione had gone rigid, her hand inching towards her wand.
"Vot is it?"
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know, but it doesn't sound friendly."
The growl came again, louder this time. The underbrush to their left rustled, and Viktor caught a glimpse of something large moving through the trees.
"Run," he said, grabbing Hermione's hand.
They took off, crashing through the forest as fast as they could. Behind them, the creature roared - a sound that shook the ground.
V What kind of beast could make a sound like that? He'd faced dragons during the Triwizard Tournament, but even they hadn't sounded so primal.
He risked a glance over his shoulder and immediately wished he hadn't. The creature pursuing them was massive - easily the size of a small house. Its body was covered in thick, matted fur, and its eyes glowed an eerie yellow in the dim forest light. Curved horns protruded from its head, and its mouth was filled with razor-sharp teeth.
"There!" Hermione shouted, pointing ahead.
Viktor followed her gaze and saw a small outcropping of rocks. It wasn't much, but it might provide some cover. They sprinted towards it, the creature's hot breath practically on their heels.
They dove behind the rocks just as the beast lunged. Its massive paw swiped at the air where they had been moments before, sending a shower of leaves and twigs raining down on them.
Viktor pulled Hermione close, shielding her body with his as the creature roared in frustration. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
"It's okay," he murmured, stroking her hair. "I haff you. Ve're safe for now."
Hermione nodded against his chest, her fingers clutching at his shirt. "What is that thing?" she whispered.
Viktor nodded. "I do not know. I have never seen anything like it before."
The beast circled their hiding spot, sniffing the air and growling. Its massive form cast shadows over them, blocking out what little light filtered through the forest canopy.
Viktor's mind raced, trying to come up with a plan. They couldn't stay here forever - eventually, the creature would find a way to get to them. But making a run for it seemed equally suicidal.
He looked down at Hermione, who was peering around the edge of the rock, her wand at the ready. Even in the face of danger, she was brilliant and brave. It made his heart swell with pride and something deeper - something he wasn't quite ready to name yet.
"Any ideas?" he asked softly.
Hermione bit her lip, thinking. "Maybe... maybe we could try to distract it? Create some kind of illusion to draw it away?"
Viktor nodded. It was a good plan - better than anything he'd come up with. "Vot kind of illusion?"
"Something big and noisy," Hermione said. "Something that would catch its attention and make it chase after the false target instead of us."
Viktor grinned. "I haff an idea."
He raised his wand, concentrating hard. With a flick and a whispered incantation, a shimmering image appeared at the edge of the clearing - a massive, silvery dragon. It was a spell he'd learned during his Triwizard Tournament training, designed to create lifelike illusions of magical creatures.
The beast's head snapped towards the illusory dragon, its yellow eyes narrowing. The dragon roared - a sound indistinguishable from the real thing - and took off through the trees.
With a bellow of rage, the creature gave chase, crashing through the underbrush after the false dragon.
Viktor grabbed Hermione's hand. "Now," he said. "Ve must go vhile it is distracted."
They took off in the opposite direction, running as fast as they could through the dense forest. Viktor's heart pounded in his ears, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He could hear Hermione's ragged breathing beside him.
They thought they'd escaped the beast, but a thunderous roar behind them shattered that illusion. The creature was back on their trail, its massive form crashing through the underbrush with terrifying speed.
His eyes darted frantically, searching for any means of escape. Suddenly, he spotted a hollow in a massive old tree, just large enough for them to squeeze into. Without hesitation, he tugged Hermione towards it.
"Come!" he shouted, pointing at the opening. "Quick!"
They dove into the hollow, the space impossibly tight. Viktor found himself pressed flush against Hermione, her body soft against his.
The beast's growls grew louder, and Viktor's instincts took over, his arms encircling Hermione. He drew her closer, so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin. Her face was nestled in the crook of his neck.
They stood frozen, barely daring to breathe as the creature prowled just outside their hiding spot. Viktor could hear its heavy breathing, the scrape of its claws against the forest floor. He tightened his hold on Hermione.
Every curve of her body molded to his, her softness a contrast to the rough bark at his back. He tried to focus on the danger outside but found his thoughts drifting to far more pleasant scenarios.
Hermione shifted slightly, her leg brushing between his. Viktor bit back a groan as her thigh pressed against his rapidly hardening cock. His imagination ran wild, conjuring vivid images of Hermione writhing beneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into her.
He pictured her flushed face, eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he kissed down her neck. In his mind, he cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples to stiff peaks as she gasped his name.
Viktor's hands twitched at his sides, aching to touch her. He imagined sliding them down her body, over the swell of her hips to dip between her thighs. He could almost feel her wetness coating his fingers as he stroked her.
With Hermione's warm breath fanning against his neck, Viktor struggled to keep his composure. He wanted nothing more than to capture her lips in a searing kiss, to feel her melt against him as he explored every inch of her body with his hands and mouth.
Perun forgive him. He was a sick pervert. He had to be. It was the only way to explain his hard cock and twisted imagination when there was a creature that could snap him like a twig right outside.
The beast's growls faded, but Viktor was reluctant to leave their intimate cocoon. For now, he was content admitting to himself that he was a pervert, at least that way he could still hold Hermione close and lose himself in forbidden fantasies.
Seconds stretched into minutes, the tension mounting with each passing moment. Hermione's soft breasts pressed against his chest; her form melding into his. The sensation of her leg intertwined with his own was almost too much to bear. Each subtle movement brushed against his cock.
Its footsteps grew distant, its growls becoming nothing more than a faint rumble in the distance. Still, they remained motionless, neither willing to risk moving too soon.
He remained still.
Slowly, cautiously, Viktor loosened his grip on Hermione. He instantly missed her warmth as she pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his in the dim light. A charged moment passed between them, neither quite ready to break the moment.
"I think it's gone," Hermione whispered.
"Da."
Reluctantly, they extricated themselves from the hollow. Viktor's body hummed with residual adrenaline. His cock strained in his trousers.
They pushed through the dense underbrush.
Finally, after what felt like hours of trekking, they reached a small clearing. In the center stood a cluster of strange, luminescent flowers - the Midnight Bloom they'd been searching for.
"There," Hermione commented.
Viktor watched as she carefully harvested the delicate blooms, her movements precise and gentle.
With the flowers safely tucked away in Hermione's beaded bag, they prepared for the journey back. Viktor mounted his broom, extending a hand to help Hermione hop on behind him.