A/N: Hmmm...this idea came from a FictionAlley Park thread that I am a member of (A Padfoot Lupine). This is for Fireraven (from FictionAlley Park)(I'm pretty sure that is the right name. But FAP won't work right now, so I can't be positive).This was not beta'd. So any spelling errors/grammatical errors are my own. This is also found on my livejournal. So see my profile to get there.
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Hogwarts, Harry's 6th year
A large owl flew through the Great Hall and perched softly on the table next to Hermione.
"Oh!" She exclaimed, setting her fork down on her plate. Hermione quickly untied the scroll from the bird's leg before offering it a piece of bacon.
"Who's it from?" Ron asked, then stuffing a muffin into his mouth.
"Oh! It's from Viktor! Harry! It's from Viktor!"
Harry smiled and moved closer to Hermione to read over her shoulder. They laughed quietly to each other at something Viktor wrote.
Ron, however, Ron didn't move to read the letter from the Bulgarian Seeker. Oh no. Ron sat, Ron fumed, Ron tried desperately hard to glare holes into the parchment that had captured so much of Hermione and Harry's attention. It didn't work.
0o0o0o0o0o0o
Harry's Flat, October 2001
Ron and Harry lounged at the small kitchen table in Harry's flat. A cup of tea, half empty, sat in front of Ron and was cooling dramatically.
"I just want him to stay away from her."
"Ron, Viktor is nowhere near Hermione right now. As a matter of fact, Hermione is the damn bathroom for Merlin's sake! He is in the living room!"
Ron paid no attention whatsoever to Harry's remark.
"Harry! He needs to keep his filthy Bulgarian hands off of her!"
Harry narrowed his eyes at Ron as his right hand twitched a bit. Harry seethed at his friend. To Ron, every guy was after Hermione. This time, it was poor Viktor Krum who was in the middle. After gulping in a few calming breaths, Harry sighed loudly.
Viktor looked up from a magazine he had been flipping through. First he focused on Harry, who at the time seemed to be debating with himself. A little crease had inserted itself on Harry's normally smooth forehead. Viktor then glanced at Ron. The Weasley's face was as red as his hair as he was caught glaring at the Quidditch star. Ron's eyes flickered back to the table before settling on Harry. Viktor decided to put the magazine up and wander into the kitchen.
"Okay, Ron. Understand this," at this point, Harry cleared his throat. "Number One - Viktor does not have filthy hands. Bulgarian, yes. Filthy, no. They're quite nice actually."
At that Ron looked at Harry, confusion evident by the look on his face.
"Number Two - I'm sure that if given the chance, Hermione would love to have Viktor's nice, calloused, large, Bulgarian hands on her. But she can't have them."
"Harry!"
"What!" The incredulous tone in Harry's voice crept through.
"YOU ARE NOT HELPING THE SITUATION!" Ron hollered as a blush swept up his neck, onto his face, and finally stopping at the tips of his ears.
"What situation?"
Ron jumped at the sound of a new voice entering the conversation. He looked up to see a curious look on Viktor's face.
"Oh, Ron seems to think that you want to put your Bulgarian hands on Hermione, there," Harry pointed to the young woman who was finally out of the bathroom. "I tried telling him that it wasn't going to happen. But he doesn't listen very well."
"Oh. Well, uhm…I really wouldn't want to put my Bulgarian hands on her."
The Boy-Who-Lived smiled at Viktor warmly, inching closer, probably too close to be thought ordinary by someone with common sense, to the taller man.
"See, Ron? You're blowing everything totally out of proportion!"
"I most certainly am not! I know he wants Hermione! Look at the way he stares at her!"
Harry glanced at Viktor, who had been focused on sliding his hand closer and closer to Harry's. Viktor's eyes were locked on Harry's form and they didn't seem as if they wanted to go anytime soon.
"Uhm, Ron? He's not even looking at Hermione!"
This time when Ron flushed, it was half anger and half embarrassment.
"Well! He wants to," The red-head hissed.
Harry stood so abruptly, his chair would have been laying on the floor had Viktor not been there to catch it. Ron's eyes widened rapidly as Harry's hands clenched into fists.
'What'd I do to piss him off so badly!' He thought to himself.
"U-u-uh H-Harry?" Ron stuttered.
Viktor touched Harry's arm softly, but then moved himself away from Harry a bit. He wasn't about to get shocked because Ron pissed Harry off. The Bulgarian shot Harry a concerned look. And at that, Harry took a deep breath but was no less angry.
"RON! VIKTOR WANTS NOTHING TO DO WITH HERMIONE OR HER…WOMANLY BITS! YOU KNOW WHAT THOSE ARE DON'T YOU? HER VAGINA, OR HER BREASTS! HE DOESN'T WANT TO TOUCH THEM OR THINK ABOUT THEM! HE DOESN'T WANT TO BE CONNECTED TO THEM, BE IT MENTALLY OR PHYSICALLY! HE'S QUITE CONTENT WITH MY COCK - THAT WOULD BE A MAN BIT- AND I'M QUITE CONTENT WITH HIS! THANK YOU! AND IT'S GOING TO STAY THAT WAY!"
Vaguely, Harry could hear Hermione's stifled laughter through Viktor's chuckling. Viktor sidled closer to Harry, wrapping his strong, muscled arms around the smaller man's shoulders. Ron looked on with a dazed look on his face.
"I do haff to say," Viktor started quietly and Harry leaned back into the sculpted chest. "I do like his man bits. Very much so."
Harry smiled at the vibrations rumbling through Viktor's chest. His head fell to the side, leaving the strong column of his throat vulnerable to the oncoming attacks from Viktor's mouth. Small kisses were pressed to it and a tongue was subtly trailing along with the lips. The lovers moaned quietly with content.
Ron, who had just witnessed his best friend being not-quite-ravished (yet) by his "rival", squeaked. Loudly. Oh how wrong he was. Oh how the mighty fall. His freckled face grew pale and his head felt light. It seemed to the now decent couple that Ron looked a bit unsteady, maybe a bit green as well.
A loud THUMP from the kitchen gave Hermione the signal she was looking for. That meant that Harry, and more than likely Viktor, had grown tired of Ron's incessant ramblings on how badly Viktor wanted Hermione. She smirked. Of course Krum didn't want her. He was fully smitten with one Harry Potter. Besides, Ron didn't own her. Oh no. She was fully besotted with a different freckled face. One with the initials G.W. and an enticingly fun, yet sometimes dangerous, joke shop named "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes".
"He took that well?" Hermione asked as she peered into the small kitchen.
"Mmm…so it seems," Viktor replied as he ghosted his lips over Harry's. "So when will you tell him about George?"
"Well, I suppose we should give him a little time to recuperate, yeah?"
"Of course," Harry retorted, his voice a mixture of huskiness and sarcasm. "Poor boy doesn't need two concussions in one day now does he?"
"I'd think not," Viktor mumbled against Harry's hair. "Now, I believe that we should move him from our kitchen. We haff plans."
"We do?"
Viktor leered at his lover.
"Oh, we do, don't we? Yes, we do have plans. Hermione? Maybe you could…uhm, just pop him over to the Burrow?"
Hermione rolled her eyes but acquiesced.
"Yes, yes of course. Maybe, if I'm lucky, George will be there."
Receiving no answer, Hermione looked around the kitchen. Suddenly it seemed, no one but herself and Ron occupied it. A loud moan from the living room told her that Viktor and Harry were quite…busy.
"Ohh, GODS VIKTOR!"
"Mmm, yes?" Viktor asked, his husky voice and accent mixed were delightfully sinful.
"Oooh, MERLIN."
And that was Hermione's warning sign. It was time to leave. Picking up Ron's limp arm, she apparated to a safe point close to the Weasleys' home. Besides, she was pretty sure that George had said something earlier about them having plans.
FINITO