CW: Teenage sexuality
Hermione spent the weekend working ahead in her classes, trying to push the matter of her love life out of her mind, with rather mixed results.
Hermione had told Daphne and Tracy before that Viktor wasn't 'hunky'. She still stood by that assessment – he didn't have broad enough shoulders or biceps to claim that title, in her mind – but while Viktor may not have the physique of a body builder, there was no denying that under his robes, Viktor was fit.
He hadn't been all bulging muscles and masculinity, just smooth and toned and shaped. He hadn't had enormous pecs, but his chest had been well-defined. He hadn't had big bulging biceps, but he had had muscle there, lean and smooth. She hadn't quite seen individual abs, but with the way the light had shadowed his body, there was the slightest suggestion of them there, and it'd made her want to touch him, to run her hand over his stomach lightly and see if there'd be bumps.
Hermione had been attracted to guys before – she'd dated Cedric Diggory, for crying out loud, one of the best-looking boys in the school – but it'd never been like this. She'd liked Cedric's height and his hair and his handsome face, and she'd liked his charming flirtations and romance. Viktor, though—
Viktor was different.
Viktor was direct and blunt in a silly, mischievous way, constantly teasing her about how bad she was at 'dating' him. He called her 'pretty witch' and talked with her about Dark magic, and he'd gone on an adventure to a strange island of Druid magic with her just at her word. He was smart and witty, and his crooked smile was rather charming, and Hermione enjoyed bantering with him and flirting right back as he flirted with her. She'd already liked him – she'd said 'yes' when he'd asked her to Hogsmeade – so it wasn't as if this was something new.
Then why did it feel different…?
Hermione's attempts at sublimating her new feelings didn't work well enough, and finally, with great frustration, Hermione pulled Tracey aside early Sunday evening into their dorm, alone.
"You—you and Adrian, you two have gone the farthest of anyone I know," she said. "And I—I—help?"
Tracey's eyes widened. "What's going on?"
Hesitantly, Hermione explained – about how she'd felt dating Cedric, what she felt when admiring other boys, and how different it felt with Viktor. A knowing smirk grew on Tracey's face as Hermione spoke, and she was grinning by the time she was done.
"And you haven't even kissed him yet?" she asked, whistling. "Wow. Well done, Mr. Krum."
"But why?" Hermione asked, her voice plaintive. "I've liked people before. I've had crushes. I've had a full-on proper romance with Fleur, but none of it ever felt like this. This is darker—covetous, almost—do you think it's because he talks about Dark magic with me?" Hermione's eyes grew wide, considering it. "Maybe that's it – Fleur and I did ley line magic together, which is pure, so our love for each other resonates pure. But Viktor and I met talking about Dark magic, and he's had to take the Dark Arts class at Durmstrang, so maybe our connection resonates darker—"
Tracey laughed.
"Hermione," she said, shaking her head. "It's really not that complicated."
"It isn't?" Hermione asked, looking up. "What is it then?"
"You're horny," Tracey said.
There was a silence. Hermione looked at Tracey.
"I am not," Hermione said, and Tracey laughed.
"Let's analyze this in a way that you can understand," she said, flopping herself down onto her bed. "When you were kissing Fleur, Hermione, did you ever want more?"
Hermione felt her face heat up.
"Umm. Yes," she admitted. "We—we didn't. Maybe a bit over the robes. But that was all!" she said hurriedly. "But… yes. I wanted to."
Tracey nodded. "And did you have to change your knickers after kissing her?"
"Tracey!" Hermione was scandalized, and Tracey laughed.
"You're so modest about this, Hermione," she teased. "I'd have thought you'd be more open about it, more scientific."
"It feels different, when it's not abstract anymore," Hermione defended, her face a brilliant red. "But yes, I did. Okay?"
"That means you were horny," Tracey told her, smirking. "If you have to change your knickers because you've gotten wet down there, you were horny."
"I desired her," Hermione protested. "It—it was sensual, a beautiful longing, not something crude—"
"You still soaked your panties and had to change them though, didn't you?" Tracey teased. "Same difference."
"I haven't had to do that with Viktor, though," Hermione protested. "Like you said, he's never even kissed me—"
"You said you felt like this just looking at his chocolate frog card?" Tracey said, raising an eyebrow. She smirked. "What happens if you imagine him wearing that in front of you? How do those thoughts feel…?"
Mildly annoyed and embarrassed, Hermione tried it. She closed her eyes, conjuring up the image of Viktor in his tight red and black shirt. It'd been almost shiny, his shirt hugging him that way, and it made her want to run her hand over his shirt, to feel the bumps of his abs under her palm.
How would he react if she did that, she wondered. She imagined him looking at her with dark, heated eyes, like the ones he'd given her before at dinner. He wouldn't stop her, she imagined – he'd probably stretch out so she could explore more, if she wanted. And if he had on pants made of the same Nogtail leather, he'd let her run her hand further down…
Mortifyingly, Hermione felt her center warm low in her body, and her face flamed.
"Fine," she hissed through clenched teeth, giving Tracey a dark look. "I—Merlin, I don't even know the term—surely it can't be 'I'm horny for'—"
Tracey snickered.
"You want Viktor," she told Hermione, darkly amused. "The word is 'want'."
Hermione scowled at her, then considered this.
"Is that it?" she said. "It—It doesn't quite feel like enough. Like, I would say I 'want' Fleur – which I do, I would love to lay down next to her and run my hands—anyway. It feels more aggressive with Viktor? Does that make sense?"
"You can always add modifiers," Tracey added helpfully. "Like 'I want to fuck Viktor'."
Hermione choked. "Tracey!"
"Well, you do, don't you?" Tracey smirked. "Just thinking about touching him makes you wet—"
"I feel so crude," Hermione groaned. She pressed her fists into her eyes. "I don't even know why I feel like this. It's not like anything's even happened. And it's not like I've never—I've done things with— it isn't entirely new—"
Tracey sobered.
"Love and lust are weird things," she said seriously. "They generally come along together, like it did with you and Fleur, which tempers the other. But you're not in love with Viktor—"
"We haven't even gone on a date—of course not, I just fancy him a bit—"
"—so your lust isn't tempered," Tracey said. "There's no soft feelings there to take the edge off of it, just your friendly fondness. So it feels more aggressive."
Hermione bit her lip. "But it's the same desire and feeling?"
"I think so." Tracey shrugged helplessly. "I mean, not all of 'having sex' is 'making love'."
Hermione let this sit with her for a moment.
"What do I do about it, then?" she asked, and Tracey laughed.
"I mean, other than change your knickers?" she teased, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Nothing. Just see how your date with him goes, and make sure you keep spare knickers in your bag just in case."
December brought with it a cold that chilled the corridors and sunk into the stones. Unlike previous years, though, Hogwarts had guests this year, and Hermione suspected the Beauxbatons students had complained, for soon enough there were warm air currents in the corridors, as if someone had suddenly installed central heating in the castle. When Hermione asked the House Elves about it, they'd told her that there were fireplaces hidden in the hallways, kept behind illusions, that had been lit to help keep things warm. Hermione was mildly concerned about the logistics of that – surely it wasn't possible to have chimneys throughout the castle walls – but when she asked Snape about the possibility of carbon monoxide poisoning, he'd merely snorted and told her to worry about more important things.
The cold weather meant that more people stayed indoors more of the time, and the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students started staying in the castle more often. The library became more crowded, and it wasn't uncommon to see clusters of students forming small study groups in alcoves and window seats in the halls.
With the castle crowded with people, Hermione's official pranksters saw an opportunity, and they approached Hermione with their ideas.
"The corridors are warm this winter. It's the perfect opportunity," Fred told her. "Can you imagine?"
"Maximum chaos," George agreed.
"Let me get this straight," Hermione said. "You want to release a bunch of tribbles into the school?"
"They're miniature Puffskeins," Fred objected.
"We're thinking of calling them Pygmy Puffs," George chimed in. "They're adorable."
"But the prank is how fast they breed?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows. "So a few of these fluffballs end up reproducing enough to flood the corridors?"
"Well, they don't exactly breed that fast on their own," George admitted. "We were planning on breeding more in secret and releasing them as fast as we could, so it seems like they're breeding enough to flood the school."
"And you made these creatures with selective breeding?" Hermione asked, amused. "I'm surprised you didn't go all the way and engineer them so they're already pregnant when they're born."
"Now that's a bit messed up, isn't it?" Fred said, smirking. "The kid would have to be pregnant by its own dad, wouldn't it?"
"No, because its real dad would have been a generation before," George said, grinning. "Keep up, Gred."
"I just… I really don't think this will turn out how you're envisioning it will go," Hermione said reluctantly. "Have you considered how many cats are in the castle? Cats that would have an absolute ball hunting these things?"
The twins paused.
"…Didn't think of the cats, did we, Gred?"
"I don't think we did, Forge."
"Could be a prank all on its own, really—"
"All the carnage in the corridors—"
"Beauxbatons birds shrieking over the blood and dead ones—"
"We can't, though – Mrs. Norris would have a field day—"
"Excellent point – just on premise, we can't make her happy—"
"Let's refocus," Hermione said, amused. "As my pranksters on retainer, I need you to prank with a purpose. And that purpose, in my opinion, should be to make Dumbledore, Crouch, and Bagman regret their lives."
"That's a bit extreme, innit?" Fred commented. "Regretting their lives?"
"Having a fourteen-year-old compete unwillingly in a deadly tournament is a bit extreme," Hermione shot back. "Those three had the power to stop all of this nonsense and restart the tournament without endangering Harry's life, and they chose not to."
"Fair point," George said, frowning. "You'd think Dumbledore would have tried to stick up for Harry more."
"Well, he didn't," Hermione said curtly. "So – anything you two can do to prank those three specifically and make them regret ever getting involved with the tournament – that would be fantastic."
The twins looked at each other, considering.
"Going to take some brainstorming, isn't it, George?"
"I think it will, Fred. If we want to do the thing properly."
"Then go brainstorm and make a new plan," Hermione advised them. "One that preferably doesn't result in massive carnage in the hallways."
"But carnage in Dumbledore's office would be okay, right?" George said, grinning, and Hermione snorted.
"If you can manage that, go for it," she said. "Otherwise – save the pygmy puff plan for when you're out of school. Hogwarts just has too many cats."
