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peskywhistpaw
Recipient:kcstories
Title: Tears, Fears, and Dancing
Characters/Pairing: Viktor/Cho, with a side of Cedric/Fleur and mild Viktor/Hermione
Rating: PG
Summary: Five times Viktor Krum feels a semblance of fear because of Cho Chang, and one time he does not.
Author's Notes: Beta-read bychimbomba and captainpookey. I hope you like this, kcstories!
i.
For the second time today, Viktor finds himself in the library of Hogwarts castle, wedged between bookshelves and tomes so dusty that he must constantly fight the urge to sneeze. He is waiting for that Granger girl, the one with the name he can pronounce in his head but not aloud. Someone told him that she would be here, so here he is.
She, however, is not. Unless she is hiding—which he doubts is so—then she is neither inside nor within the vicinity of the room.
He waits another minute, shifts his feet awkwardly in the small space, and then sighs. All around him, there is silence; no quills scratching upon parchment, no pages being hastily turned, no whispers. Just silence.
Until…
Sniff.
Viktor narrows his eyes—something he unconsciously does when concentrating.
Sniff.
The sound comes from behind a shelf farther back. Viktor hunches his shoulders, squeezes through the rows, and follows it as if he is a hound who has happened upon a scent.
To his horror and embarrassment, the trail leads him to a pretty girl with long black hair and tears upon her ivory cheeks. Viktor’s eyes bulge slightly; she is a girl, and she is crying, and that is something he knows all rational men fear.
When she looks up, he backs away. He is cold and warm at the same time; nervous.
By the time he has managed to escape, he has forgotten why he even went into the library in the first place, regretting whatever it was that caused him to stumble upon the weeping girl. Even later still, he learns from an irritating witch named Greengrass that Cedric Diggory, whom he has always thought to be of the decent sort, was found alone with Fleur Delacour that morning. Viktor wonders briefly if these two circumstances are related.
ii.
There is going to be dancing. When he first discovered this, he stared at Karkaroff as if he were mad; Viktor flies, he does not dance. Flying is the only sort of movement at which he has ever been skilled. What reason is there to change that now?
Karkaroff tells him that he must dance, and that it must be in front of everyone during the Yule Ball. Who shall he dance with? He will have to find someone. In the meantime, he has lessons.
“Viktor?”
“Vot?” He looks at the girl in front of him, the pretty one with the long black hair and almond-shaped eyes, and he feels a swoop of something in the pit of his stomach for what seems to be the tenth time. He thinks it must be nerves again; her delicate hands are so small in his, her waist so slender beneath his fingers.
“You’ve got to remember where your feet go.”
Her name is Cho Chang, and she is an impatient teacher.
Viktor scowls without meaning to. He does not feel so… unsettled… around other girls.
“I vos trying.”
She frowns. “I know. We’ll do it again.”
iii.
He sees her sometimes, Cho Chang, even though Karkaroff has put an end to their dancing lessons. And sometimes, even when he is with someone else, he thinks about her. These thoughts used to be fleeting, but now they linger in his mind longer than before, leaving him disconcerted when they finally fade.
He remembers how Cho’s hands felt so soft, and how he shivered once when her hair brushed against his arm. He remembers how, no more than one time, he caught her looking at him out of the corner of her eye. She has not done it again. She does not follow him for his autograph like the other girls do—though if she asks for it, he will give it to her without hesitation.
Viktor smiles, but then he catches himself and draws his lips into an unrevealing line. He coughs, gruff, but he feels warm, even though the outside air is cool. There is a rush of something in his chest, his stomach. He likes girls; he likes the way they look and the way they feel, but he is a Quidditch player, and he cannot pay attention to them all.
He pays attention to her, but he does not know why. Whatever it means, it is unnerving…
Frightening? No…
…Perhaps.
He takes a deep breath and dives into the icy waters of the lake.
iv.
He tries to comfort her after Diggory’s death, but she sends him away. He is afraid that, after he returns home, he will never see her again. Would she even want to see him again?
He wants to see her, for now he knows the reason why.
v.
It is the Vrasta Vultures versus the Tutshill Tornados, and a new millennium has dawned, one without Dark Lords and death around every corner. In the wake of everything that has occurred, the pieces are almost putting themselves back together now.
Viktor hovers in the sky, squinting against the setting sun as he searches for the Snitch. He has found it six times during the past four hours, and six times has it managed to escape him. He is frustrated, exhausted, yet still thrilled.
As he waits, he ponders the Tornados’ Seeker; due to an injury, he has heard, it was necessary to call someone in from the reserve team. He does not know who she is; she has remained on the opposite side of the pitch for the entirety of the game thus far.
His curiosity wavers when a flash of gold zips past his ear and across the playing field, nearly forming a metallic streak down its center. With a rush of energy he shoots after it, crowing inwardly with jubilation.
Viktor stretches his fingers, anticipating, closing in upon the elusive object. He can hear—but just barely—the noise of the crowd below. He sees only the Snitch, nothing else; he does not see the opposing Seeker zooming toward the same destination as he, also unaware of the world around her.
They collide, Bulgarian red juxtaposed with Welsh blue.
Viktor is undaunted until he sees the Seeker’s long black hair and pretty face, almond-shaped eyes widened in shock. For an instant, he feels a wave of irrational panic. And then…
She falls…
Almost.
His large hand encompasses hers—which is still so delicate and small. The wings of the Golden Snitch beat frantically between both of their palms. She stares at him almost as if they are encountering for the first time in one lifetime after having met in another before this.
“You haff to remember,” he tells her slowly, recalling another place and occasion in that other lifetime.
“Remember what?”
He blinks. “I do not know.”
They are both blank for a moment, until suddenly, they begin to laugh, though neither can remember a joke being told.
Below, chaos ensues; the game has ended in a tie.
i.
There are tears in her eyes, and she tosses her head back, giggling and laying her emotions bare for everyone to see. She cannot remember when she last felt so giddy and alive as this.
Viktor, one hand still upon her waist, is scowling, his robes dripping with punch. He should have known better than to have taken her dancing—of all things he might have chosen!
“At least,” he reasons to her, “I haff remembered vhere my feet go.”
What he does not tell her is that now, not only has Cho shown him where his feet go, but where they will forever lead him.
peskywhistpawRecipient:
kcstoriesTitle: Tears, Fears, and Dancing
Characters/Pairing: Viktor/Cho, with a side of Cedric/Fleur and mild Viktor/Hermione
Rating: PG
Summary: Five times Viktor Krum feels a semblance of fear because of Cho Chang, and one time he does not.
Author's Notes: Beta-read by
chimbomba and captainpookey. I hope you like this, kcstories! For the second time today, Viktor finds himself in the library of Hogwarts castle, wedged between bookshelves and tomes so dusty that he must constantly fight the urge to sneeze. He is waiting for that Granger girl, the one with the name he can pronounce in his head but not aloud. Someone told him that she would be here, so here he is.
She, however, is not. Unless she is hiding—which he doubts is so—then she is neither inside nor within the vicinity of the room.
He waits another minute, shifts his feet awkwardly in the small space, and then sighs. All around him, there is silence; no quills scratching upon parchment, no pages being hastily turned, no whispers. Just silence.
Until…
Sniff.
Viktor narrows his eyes—something he unconsciously does when concentrating.
Sniff.
The sound comes from behind a shelf farther back. Viktor hunches his shoulders, squeezes through the rows, and follows it as if he is a hound who has happened upon a scent.
To his horror and embarrassment, the trail leads him to a pretty girl with long black hair and tears upon her ivory cheeks. Viktor’s eyes bulge slightly; she is a girl, and she is crying, and that is something he knows all rational men fear.
When she looks up, he backs away. He is cold and warm at the same time; nervous.
By the time he has managed to escape, he has forgotten why he even went into the library in the first place, regretting whatever it was that caused him to stumble upon the weeping girl. Even later still, he learns from an irritating witch named Greengrass that Cedric Diggory, whom he has always thought to be of the decent sort, was found alone with Fleur Delacour that morning. Viktor wonders briefly if these two circumstances are related.
There is going to be dancing. When he first discovered this, he stared at Karkaroff as if he were mad; Viktor flies, he does not dance. Flying is the only sort of movement at which he has ever been skilled. What reason is there to change that now?
Karkaroff tells him that he must dance, and that it must be in front of everyone during the Yule Ball. Who shall he dance with? He will have to find someone. In the meantime, he has lessons.
“Viktor?”
“Vot?” He looks at the girl in front of him, the pretty one with the long black hair and almond-shaped eyes, and he feels a swoop of something in the pit of his stomach for what seems to be the tenth time. He thinks it must be nerves again; her delicate hands are so small in his, her waist so slender beneath his fingers.
“You’ve got to remember where your feet go.”
Her name is Cho Chang, and she is an impatient teacher.
Viktor scowls without meaning to. He does not feel so… unsettled… around other girls.
“I vos trying.”
She frowns. “I know. We’ll do it again.”
He sees her sometimes, Cho Chang, even though Karkaroff has put an end to their dancing lessons. And sometimes, even when he is with someone else, he thinks about her. These thoughts used to be fleeting, but now they linger in his mind longer than before, leaving him disconcerted when they finally fade.
He remembers how Cho’s hands felt so soft, and how he shivered once when her hair brushed against his arm. He remembers how, no more than one time, he caught her looking at him out of the corner of her eye. She has not done it again. She does not follow him for his autograph like the other girls do—though if she asks for it, he will give it to her without hesitation.
Viktor smiles, but then he catches himself and draws his lips into an unrevealing line. He coughs, gruff, but he feels warm, even though the outside air is cool. There is a rush of something in his chest, his stomach. He likes girls; he likes the way they look and the way they feel, but he is a Quidditch player, and he cannot pay attention to them all.
He pays attention to her, but he does not know why. Whatever it means, it is unnerving…
Frightening? No…
…Perhaps.
He takes a deep breath and dives into the icy waters of the lake.
He tries to comfort her after Diggory’s death, but she sends him away. He is afraid that, after he returns home, he will never see her again. Would she even want to see him again?
He wants to see her, for now he knows the reason why.
It is the Vrasta Vultures versus the Tutshill Tornados, and a new millennium has dawned, one without Dark Lords and death around every corner. In the wake of everything that has occurred, the pieces are almost putting themselves back together now.
Viktor hovers in the sky, squinting against the setting sun as he searches for the Snitch. He has found it six times during the past four hours, and six times has it managed to escape him. He is frustrated, exhausted, yet still thrilled.
As he waits, he ponders the Tornados’ Seeker; due to an injury, he has heard, it was necessary to call someone in from the reserve team. He does not know who she is; she has remained on the opposite side of the pitch for the entirety of the game thus far.
His curiosity wavers when a flash of gold zips past his ear and across the playing field, nearly forming a metallic streak down its center. With a rush of energy he shoots after it, crowing inwardly with jubilation.
Viktor stretches his fingers, anticipating, closing in upon the elusive object. He can hear—but just barely—the noise of the crowd below. He sees only the Snitch, nothing else; he does not see the opposing Seeker zooming toward the same destination as he, also unaware of the world around her.
They collide, Bulgarian red juxtaposed with Welsh blue.
Viktor is undaunted until he sees the Seeker’s long black hair and pretty face, almond-shaped eyes widened in shock. For an instant, he feels a wave of irrational panic. And then…
She falls…
Almost.
His large hand encompasses hers—which is still so delicate and small. The wings of the Golden Snitch beat frantically between both of their palms. She stares at him almost as if they are encountering for the first time in one lifetime after having met in another before this.
“You haff to remember,” he tells her slowly, recalling another place and occasion in that other lifetime.
“Remember what?”
He blinks. “I do not know.”
They are both blank for a moment, until suddenly, they begin to laugh, though neither can remember a joke being told.
Below, chaos ensues; the game has ended in a tie.
There are tears in her eyes, and she tosses her head back, giggling and laying her emotions bare for everyone to see. She cannot remember when she last felt so giddy and alive as this.
Viktor, one hand still upon her waist, is scowling, his robes dripping with punch. He should have known better than to have taken her dancing—of all things he might have chosen!
“At least,” he reasons to her, “I haff remembered vhere my feet go.”
What he does not tell her is that now, not only has Cho shown him where his feet go, but where they will forever lead him.
