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ceria_taliesin
Recipient:kcstories
Title: By Firelight
Pairing: Ginny Weasley/Viktor Krum (and another implied couple from the list as well)
Rating: PG
Word Count: Less than 2,000, I solemnly swear!
Summary: Slow seduction by firelight?
Author's Notes: Dearkcstories, I hope you like. Happy Holidays.
"If I asked you to go on holiday with me, would you be interested?" Hermione was staring at her -- intently, was the only word Ginny considered. She felt like a beetle being examined in a glass jar and smiled, thinking of journalists.
"You have a plan, don't you?" Leave it to Hermione to come up with something Ron couldn't resist. "And you need me to cover for you?"
"Sorta," she admitted, fingers trailing through long hair, twisting it. "It's only for the weekend, we could leave Friday night after your practice and return Sunday afternoon. He… I can't be gone very long either."
She could have sprung in that moment, pulling the slipped word back, grasping it tightly and squeezing the truth from Hermione, but Ginny chose to ignore the pronoun. "All right, I just need to talk to my coach…"
"Already done. She's approved you for one day off," Hermione shoved a piece of curled parchment bearing a gold talon into Ginny's hand.
"I assume that I can't mention this to anyone?" Ginny knew Hermione well enough to trust her best friend with whatever idea she had.
"I told everyone I was attending a magical conference on Goblin rights in France, and that you wanted to try the cheese over there."
"Cheese, Hermione? Did you hit your head?"
"No, just nervous."
Her hair would end up in dreads, sticking out all over like Lee Jordan's hair, if Hermione didn't stop. Ginny touched Hermione's hand, fingers falling away even as they gripped each other tight. "Are you all right?"
"Yes. I just really want this."
"What are we really going to do?"
"I want to go skiing."
"What's that?"
"Consider it flying on the ground, with something much wider than a broom. You'll love it."
Since when did she turn a challenge down? Besides, it would be something to tease Ron about later on, if she needed to. "All right. Where do we meet?"
"The Floo from our flat works," she said, grinning weakly, "Or it will tomorrow night." The last time Hermione had been this nervous was the first time she kissed Ron as far as Ginny recalled. That conversation had involved broken fingernails and awkward confessions. This time though… Hermione was more excited than nervous; a storm captured inside a glass threatening to shatter. She couldn't wait for the weekend to see what caused Hermione to act like that. As far as she knew, Hermione and Ron hadn't been getting along.
* * *
Rucksack packed, Ginny slung it over her shoulders, following her best friend through the Floo, feeling silly wearing so many layers of clothing even though Hermione warned her how cold it could be in Meribel. Just like she'd casually mentioned that she told a friend they were skiing there and that he could join them, if he liked. Ginny only hoped he wasn't a Harpies fan; she'd much prefer if he didn't know Quidditch at all.
The smooth sound of water pouring over rocks in the corner, a black leather sofa in front of her as she stepped out of the fireplace; Ginny sighed and dropped off her feet, hands rubbing against her knees, fingers sore from too much practice.
Hermione fidgeted only a moment, staring up the stairs, before taking the steps two at a time toward the door on the left. "It's late, I'll be in my room!"
She caught a glance of red hair, noticing that he wasn't quite the right height for Ron, but assumed her eyes were tired. "Don't forget the Silencing Charm!" Ginny wasn't fooled for a moment and pulled off the layers of clothing she'd need for tomorrow, but not tonight. She'd rather not see her brother in there either, knowing Hermione might be up there with him… shook her head, dislodging the image from her brain.
Her fingers were sore from the cold and she frowned, rubbing her palms together to build some warmth. Waving her wand, she moved the oak table away from the fireplace, tossed a pillow and blanket in front of the gray, stone hearth, and settled there, wrapped in warmth as the fire crackled.
Eyes closed, Ginny dreamed that the fire crept out, winding around the grate in order to approach her, warm tongues of flame licking over her sore fingers, caressing them. She moaned and the fires abated, leaving her skin cold, the snow creeping in, wrapping tendrils of ice around her. She shivered in her dream and the fire returned, stroking each finger, shunting the cold away, replacing it with heat.
Eyelashes fluttering to the rhythm of the fire, Ginny tried to sleep, but her hands were too warm and someone was massaging them.
It took her too long to realize that she wasn't alone and someone was carefully touching her hands, enveloping one finger at a time with his palm, caressing away the tiredness from protective Quidditch equipment and grasping a boom during daily practice.
"Feels nice," she mumbled, opening one eye to see someone sitting cross-legged on the white rug next to her, his body blocking the heat of the fire.
"Hello, Ginny. I'm sorry I voke you."
The accent… it took her only a moment for her eyes to adjust to see him, dark hair and long nose revealing Viktor Krum.
"What are you doing?" she asked, alert but pretending to remain drowsy, left hand beneath her head, gripping her wand.
"Our trainer does this for us before important games; I know how good it feels and I thought to share." He hadn't let her go yet, the palm of his hand resting against her fingers. The warmth from the massage and sustained touch seeping into cold bones better than the fire had.
"I meant what are you doing here?"
"Her-mi-o-ne," he said her name carefully, "invited me to join you. I've been skiing before vith my family and suggested this place to her. It's beautiful, is it not?"
"We only just arrived; I haven't seen it during daylight yet." It still didn't explain why he was sitting on the floor in the chalet that the two of them rented, or why he'd been touching her. But she was tired and her fingers didn't hurt for the first time in a week.
She couldn't continue to lie about as if in invitation. Nor could she stop the sudden image of Viktor and her wrapped in the blankets before the fireplace together. Her face warm, she sat up, an excuse to look him evenly in the eyes as well as a reason to pull her hand away from his.
"Did you come to see Hermione then? Because she's gone to sleep for the night." Or whatever it might be she was doing in her room.
"No, she told me that you vould be here as vell."
"You came to see me?" Ginny blinked at him. She knew Viktor was single like she was; Hermione often pointed that out from the gossip column in the Quidditch rag she received bi-weekly.
"You haff not been skiing before, correct?"
"No, I haven't." He came to see her, a concept Ginny found surprising. Not so much that Hermione arranged it on the sly, which sounded just like her, but that Viktor might be interested. "Did you think to teach me?"
"I haff seen you fly, Ginny Veasley, there is little I could teach you."
She blushed again, berating herself for feeling like a student again, when she'd been falling over herself trying to garner Harry's attention. Except she wasn't that young any longer.
"Then why are you here?" she asked, curious to his answer. She remembered her third year well enough, with Viktor following Hermione around the library, working up the courage to talk to her.
He hesitated a moment, raising his hand to touch her, drew it back then grinned, apparently making up his mind. He rested his warm hand against her cool neck and steady heartbeat, sliding around to touch her long hair. He drew it over her shoulder, fingers entangled.
"It looks like flame. Because you are beautiful and not falling over me. I tire of that."
She laughed, her voice echoing through the chalet and Viktor grinned at her. "I won't trade any Quidditch secrets with you, Krum."
He raised one of those eyebrows and Ginny's hand twitched, wanting to touch his face. Acceptance in that gaze.
"You vill haff to find a way to pay for skiing lessons, very expensive from a professional, you know."
"Since when are you considered a professional with a Muggle sport, Viktor?"
He only smiled at her, "You haff not been skiing, how vould you know the difference?"
Still smiling, Ginny leaned forward, giving in to the urge to run fingertips across his eyebrow and down his jaw line. She stopped at his neck, resting her hand against the hollow of his throat, across the top of the dark blue jumper he wore.
"I won't pay you how those other women pay you, Krum."
"Not even vith a kiss?"
"Not tonight," she said, gathering her blankets, and her will to walk away. Standing, Ginny found her way to her room to dream of snow.
* * *
Dawn broke before Ginny wanted to wake and she stretched, wrapping the red quilt around her body, rising to push aside drapes. Eyes watering from the glinting light of ice-covered trees, she watched, transfixed, as people flew down the hills, flying across ground that looked like marshmallows.
He waited in the kitchenette, a cup of hot cocoa passed to her cold hands as delicately as a morning gift, sweet rolls next to her elbow.
"Thank you, you're up early."
"I vas talking to Her-mi-o-ne and Bill."
"You mean Ron."
He only looked at her strangely and Ginny shrugged her shoulders. There were enough Weasley brothers to confuse them. "Are they still here?"
"Out skiing, we are to join them, if you are ready."
The drink finished, she watched Viktor as he quickly and efficiently cleaned up the kitchen.
"Viktor?" she said, setting down the empty cup. He turned around and she approached him, unfolding her arms to pull him inside the warm quilt, pressing her lips to the bottom of his chin. She liked how they fit together and smiled at the thought. Maybe dating another Quidditch player wouldn't be such a bad idea.
"Vhat was that for?" he asked, smiling at her, settling his hands on her hips.
"Isn't payment due prior to lessons?"
Nodding, he kissed her forehead, "That is true, pretty lady." Pushing her away, he swatted her bottom, "Now get dressed as we can go ski."
Laughing, Ginny nodded at him, anxious to try flying the Muggle way.
* * *
With so many people on the slopes, Ginny hadn't seen Hermione all day long. Except she wasn't concerned as they rested, laughing over her spills and his tumbles, backs to the leather sofa, and feet stretched out to feel the warmth of the fire.
"I had fun today," she admitted and Viktor nodded, pressing his lips to her shoulder.
"As did I."
"I'm glad you decided to come."
"I haff to admit I vas vorried you vould hex me, but this hass been a fun day, hass it not?"
"Wicked," she said, unconsciously echoing her brothers.
They watched the fire in silence, Ginny's bare feet across his ankles, Viktor's arm around her shoulders, and her hand resting on top of his. It had been a good day and she looked forward to dinner and the rest of the evening, but not quite yet.
"I wonder how Ron did on the slopes."
"Ron?" Viktor asked, raising one eyebrow at her.
"Well, who else would be here with Hermione?" But Viktor didn't answer that question, only smirked at her as if he knew a secret she didn't. Later, she decided. Later she would figure it out, but for now…
"We can discuss that ofer dinner, yes?"
She nodded in agreement; dinner wasn't for a couple hours and for now they enjoyed the silence of the chalet, wrapped in each other's warmth after a long, cold day.
ceria_taliesinRecipient:
kcstoriesTitle: By Firelight
Pairing: Ginny Weasley/Viktor Krum (and another implied couple from the list as well)
Rating: PG
Word Count: Less than 2,000, I solemnly swear!
Summary: Slow seduction by firelight?
Author's Notes: Dear
kcstories, I hope you like. Happy Holidays. "If I asked you to go on holiday with me, would you be interested?" Hermione was staring at her -- intently, was the only word Ginny considered. She felt like a beetle being examined in a glass jar and smiled, thinking of journalists.
"You have a plan, don't you?" Leave it to Hermione to come up with something Ron couldn't resist. "And you need me to cover for you?"
"Sorta," she admitted, fingers trailing through long hair, twisting it. "It's only for the weekend, we could leave Friday night after your practice and return Sunday afternoon. He… I can't be gone very long either."
She could have sprung in that moment, pulling the slipped word back, grasping it tightly and squeezing the truth from Hermione, but Ginny chose to ignore the pronoun. "All right, I just need to talk to my coach…"
"Already done. She's approved you for one day off," Hermione shoved a piece of curled parchment bearing a gold talon into Ginny's hand.
"I assume that I can't mention this to anyone?" Ginny knew Hermione well enough to trust her best friend with whatever idea she had.
"I told everyone I was attending a magical conference on Goblin rights in France, and that you wanted to try the cheese over there."
"Cheese, Hermione? Did you hit your head?"
"No, just nervous."
Her hair would end up in dreads, sticking out all over like Lee Jordan's hair, if Hermione didn't stop. Ginny touched Hermione's hand, fingers falling away even as they gripped each other tight. "Are you all right?"
"Yes. I just really want this."
"What are we really going to do?"
"I want to go skiing."
"What's that?"
"Consider it flying on the ground, with something much wider than a broom. You'll love it."
Since when did she turn a challenge down? Besides, it would be something to tease Ron about later on, if she needed to. "All right. Where do we meet?"
"The Floo from our flat works," she said, grinning weakly, "Or it will tomorrow night." The last time Hermione had been this nervous was the first time she kissed Ron as far as Ginny recalled. That conversation had involved broken fingernails and awkward confessions. This time though… Hermione was more excited than nervous; a storm captured inside a glass threatening to shatter. She couldn't wait for the weekend to see what caused Hermione to act like that. As far as she knew, Hermione and Ron hadn't been getting along.
Rucksack packed, Ginny slung it over her shoulders, following her best friend through the Floo, feeling silly wearing so many layers of clothing even though Hermione warned her how cold it could be in Meribel. Just like she'd casually mentioned that she told a friend they were skiing there and that he could join them, if he liked. Ginny only hoped he wasn't a Harpies fan; she'd much prefer if he didn't know Quidditch at all.
The smooth sound of water pouring over rocks in the corner, a black leather sofa in front of her as she stepped out of the fireplace; Ginny sighed and dropped off her feet, hands rubbing against her knees, fingers sore from too much practice.
Hermione fidgeted only a moment, staring up the stairs, before taking the steps two at a time toward the door on the left. "It's late, I'll be in my room!"
She caught a glance of red hair, noticing that he wasn't quite the right height for Ron, but assumed her eyes were tired. "Don't forget the Silencing Charm!" Ginny wasn't fooled for a moment and pulled off the layers of clothing she'd need for tomorrow, but not tonight. She'd rather not see her brother in there either, knowing Hermione might be up there with him… shook her head, dislodging the image from her brain.
Her fingers were sore from the cold and she frowned, rubbing her palms together to build some warmth. Waving her wand, she moved the oak table away from the fireplace, tossed a pillow and blanket in front of the gray, stone hearth, and settled there, wrapped in warmth as the fire crackled.
Eyes closed, Ginny dreamed that the fire crept out, winding around the grate in order to approach her, warm tongues of flame licking over her sore fingers, caressing them. She moaned and the fires abated, leaving her skin cold, the snow creeping in, wrapping tendrils of ice around her. She shivered in her dream and the fire returned, stroking each finger, shunting the cold away, replacing it with heat.
Eyelashes fluttering to the rhythm of the fire, Ginny tried to sleep, but her hands were too warm and someone was massaging them.
It took her too long to realize that she wasn't alone and someone was carefully touching her hands, enveloping one finger at a time with his palm, caressing away the tiredness from protective Quidditch equipment and grasping a boom during daily practice.
"Feels nice," she mumbled, opening one eye to see someone sitting cross-legged on the white rug next to her, his body blocking the heat of the fire.
"Hello, Ginny. I'm sorry I voke you."
The accent… it took her only a moment for her eyes to adjust to see him, dark hair and long nose revealing Viktor Krum.
"What are you doing?" she asked, alert but pretending to remain drowsy, left hand beneath her head, gripping her wand.
"Our trainer does this for us before important games; I know how good it feels and I thought to share." He hadn't let her go yet, the palm of his hand resting against her fingers. The warmth from the massage and sustained touch seeping into cold bones better than the fire had.
"I meant what are you doing here?"
"Her-mi-o-ne," he said her name carefully, "invited me to join you. I've been skiing before vith my family and suggested this place to her. It's beautiful, is it not?"
"We only just arrived; I haven't seen it during daylight yet." It still didn't explain why he was sitting on the floor in the chalet that the two of them rented, or why he'd been touching her. But she was tired and her fingers didn't hurt for the first time in a week.
She couldn't continue to lie about as if in invitation. Nor could she stop the sudden image of Viktor and her wrapped in the blankets before the fireplace together. Her face warm, she sat up, an excuse to look him evenly in the eyes as well as a reason to pull her hand away from his.
"Did you come to see Hermione then? Because she's gone to sleep for the night." Or whatever it might be she was doing in her room.
"No, she told me that you vould be here as vell."
"You came to see me?" Ginny blinked at him. She knew Viktor was single like she was; Hermione often pointed that out from the gossip column in the Quidditch rag she received bi-weekly.
"You haff not been skiing before, correct?"
"No, I haven't." He came to see her, a concept Ginny found surprising. Not so much that Hermione arranged it on the sly, which sounded just like her, but that Viktor might be interested. "Did you think to teach me?"
"I haff seen you fly, Ginny Veasley, there is little I could teach you."
She blushed again, berating herself for feeling like a student again, when she'd been falling over herself trying to garner Harry's attention. Except she wasn't that young any longer.
"Then why are you here?" she asked, curious to his answer. She remembered her third year well enough, with Viktor following Hermione around the library, working up the courage to talk to her.
He hesitated a moment, raising his hand to touch her, drew it back then grinned, apparently making up his mind. He rested his warm hand against her cool neck and steady heartbeat, sliding around to touch her long hair. He drew it over her shoulder, fingers entangled.
"It looks like flame. Because you are beautiful and not falling over me. I tire of that."
She laughed, her voice echoing through the chalet and Viktor grinned at her. "I won't trade any Quidditch secrets with you, Krum."
He raised one of those eyebrows and Ginny's hand twitched, wanting to touch his face. Acceptance in that gaze.
"You vill haff to find a way to pay for skiing lessons, very expensive from a professional, you know."
"Since when are you considered a professional with a Muggle sport, Viktor?"
He only smiled at her, "You haff not been skiing, how vould you know the difference?"
Still smiling, Ginny leaned forward, giving in to the urge to run fingertips across his eyebrow and down his jaw line. She stopped at his neck, resting her hand against the hollow of his throat, across the top of the dark blue jumper he wore.
"I won't pay you how those other women pay you, Krum."
"Not even vith a kiss?"
"Not tonight," she said, gathering her blankets, and her will to walk away. Standing, Ginny found her way to her room to dream of snow.
Dawn broke before Ginny wanted to wake and she stretched, wrapping the red quilt around her body, rising to push aside drapes. Eyes watering from the glinting light of ice-covered trees, she watched, transfixed, as people flew down the hills, flying across ground that looked like marshmallows.
He waited in the kitchenette, a cup of hot cocoa passed to her cold hands as delicately as a morning gift, sweet rolls next to her elbow.
"Thank you, you're up early."
"I vas talking to Her-mi-o-ne and Bill."
"You mean Ron."
He only looked at her strangely and Ginny shrugged her shoulders. There were enough Weasley brothers to confuse them. "Are they still here?"
"Out skiing, we are to join them, if you are ready."
The drink finished, she watched Viktor as he quickly and efficiently cleaned up the kitchen.
"Viktor?" she said, setting down the empty cup. He turned around and she approached him, unfolding her arms to pull him inside the warm quilt, pressing her lips to the bottom of his chin. She liked how they fit together and smiled at the thought. Maybe dating another Quidditch player wouldn't be such a bad idea.
"Vhat was that for?" he asked, smiling at her, settling his hands on her hips.
"Isn't payment due prior to lessons?"
Nodding, he kissed her forehead, "That is true, pretty lady." Pushing her away, he swatted her bottom, "Now get dressed as we can go ski."
Laughing, Ginny nodded at him, anxious to try flying the Muggle way.
With so many people on the slopes, Ginny hadn't seen Hermione all day long. Except she wasn't concerned as they rested, laughing over her spills and his tumbles, backs to the leather sofa, and feet stretched out to feel the warmth of the fire.
"I had fun today," she admitted and Viktor nodded, pressing his lips to her shoulder.
"As did I."
"I'm glad you decided to come."
"I haff to admit I vas vorried you vould hex me, but this hass been a fun day, hass it not?"
"Wicked," she said, unconsciously echoing her brothers.
They watched the fire in silence, Ginny's bare feet across his ankles, Viktor's arm around her shoulders, and her hand resting on top of his. It had been a good day and she looked forward to dinner and the rest of the evening, but not quite yet.
"I wonder how Ron did on the slopes."
"Ron?" Viktor asked, raising one eyebrow at her.
"Well, who else would be here with Hermione?" But Viktor didn't answer that question, only smirked at her as if he knew a secret she didn't. Later, she decided. Later she would figure it out, but for now…
"We can discuss that ofer dinner, yes?"
She nodded in agreement; dinner wasn't for a couple hours and for now they enjoyed the silence of the chalet, wrapped in each other's warmth after a long, cold day.
