Viktor Krum was walking back across the grounds of Hogwarts, feet crunching in new fallen snow, the book on magical horses tucked under his arm.

He and Hermyown had spent nearly four hours in the back corner of the library, tucked between shelves, as she read a book for one of her classes and Viktor read the book on horses. He had even gotten up the courage to point out a few words in the English that he did not recognize to get the definition, and Hermyown had not judged him, but simply explained the meaning before turning back to her own text. She'd even shown him her book and asked if he'd ever studied ancient runes, which he had, and he'd helped her sort out the subtle differences between a few runes that were terribly close with deeply different meanings.

After, he had stopped by the Great Hall and taken a small stack of sandwiches before heading back to his room on the Durmstrang ship, deciding he wished to spend the evening there, rather than trek back inside at dinner. He didn't want to force small talk witht the other Durmstrang boys, not to mention the Slytherins. He fancied himself with his feet up on the ship, relaxing, having a nap and perhaps listening to a bit of music while the rest of the ships occupants were off to dinner. Precious seconds completely alone on board the otherwise empty ship sounded marvelous.

And indeed, later on Viktor watched the crowd of Durmstrang students ambling across the grounds to the Castle from his porthole window, and breathed a sigh of relief. He let the curtain drop back over the port hole and went to weed through the stack of classical music records he had in his collection, searching for a particular symphony which had long been one of his favorites. He had dropped the needle and just begun to let himself think of dancing along to the melody when there came an urgent knock on his door.

He flushed and smoothed his shirt, squaring his shoulders and opened the door, certain he would find his father on the other side of the door, but instead --

Aleksander was kissing Viktor before he had even fully comprehended it was him at the door. The boy had launched himself forward at Viktor, his hands gripping onto Viktor's shoulders and pulling him in, their mouths crashing into one another. Aleksander tasted of cider and mead, of warmth and smelled of amber and spices. Viktor's heart double beat as Aleksander's hands slid over his chest and his fingers twisted into Viktor's shirt.

When Aleksander released Viktor, they stood breathless, staring at one another. Aleksander's eyes held a question - was this okay? - and Viktor lunged forward, kicking shut the door and as he pulled Aleksander into the room.

The music on the phonograph seemed in perfect time with them as their chests slammed together once more, Aleksander's hands pulling Viktor's hips into his own.

"I thought you would die," Aleksander muttered, "My heart did not know how to beat for the moments you faced that dragon."

Viktor's palms turned to pools, his blood flowing like electricity through his veins and throbbing in his pelvis as he gasped for air. Aleksander's fingers slid into Viktor's hair, mouth sweeping onto him, his tongue sliding between Viktor's lips, thrusting against his own, smooth and soft and hard all at once, deliciously overwhelming.

Viktor felt dizzy as Aleksander took control away from him, and Viktor realized just how alright he was with relinquishing it over. His back hit the wall so hard the photos hanging there rattled and his free hand searched for the top of the steamer trunk beside him, shoving off the stack of books he'd left there, and he fell backward over it, drawing Aleksander down on top of him.

Aleksander crashed down over him like a wave.

Viktor's head thrown back, Aleksander began kissing his neck, sucking gently on the skin, licking along his platysmal lines and around the bob of his adam's apple. Viktor let out a grunt as Aleksander's hands slid under his shirt, sliding across the plain of his abdomen, up and up to grab onto his pecs and Viktor's knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the trunk tightly.

"I could not stand it if that dragon killed you," Aleksander hissed into Viktor's ear, "Knowing I had not properly had you as my own."

Aleksander pusher Viktor's shirt away, revealing the pendent he had given Viktor on the day of the task, hanging from a chain about Viktor's neck, laying pooled in the space just below his broad collar bone. Aleksander grinned, leaned down, and kissed from Viktor's throat to the hollow above his chest and down to the medallion, which he slid aside, letting it slip over Viktor's shoulder, and kissed the place where the medallion had rested. There was a pause as Aleksander bent low, cheek pressing to Viktor's chest, and he whispered, "Your heart beats so fast, Viktor."

"You make it so," Viktor groaned.

"Let's make it beat even faster," Aleksander whispered, and his hands slid across Viktor's chest again, but this time downward, over his stomach and along the V of his hips, grasping the belt about his waist, undoing it, grappling for buttons and Viktor --

-- shoved Aleksander from him, pushing himself up from the trunk, his neck and hands damp with sweat, breathless, trembling...

"Get in the closet."

Aleksander looked aghast a moment before he heard the footsteps coming toward the door and he ducked for the closet throwing himself inside and pulling the door closed mere moments before Viktor's bedroom door opened, Oskar Krum stepping formidably into the room.

Viktor was still dizzy from Aleksander's touch as his father stood before him. Never had he been so thankful for his father's heavy footed gait in his life. He shuddered to think of what his father might have done had he caught Viktor and Aleksander in the questionable position in which they'd been seconds before - or worse, the state they might've been in by now, had Oskar managed to sneak up without being heard before his arrival.

Viktor throbbed with embarrassment (and admittedly a little bit of shameful regret) at the thought of what might've been happening now without interruption... where Aleksander's hands had been headed.

"Father?" Viktor panted.

"Where have you been, Viktor? It is rude to not -" Oskar stopped mid-sentence, looking Viktor over. His brows cinched, face darkening like a thunderhead. "Where is he?"

"Where is who?" Viktor said. It took all of his will to keep from looking toward the wardrobe.

Oskar growled, "Aleksander."

Viktor flushed. "Aleksander?" his voice pinched with what he hoped came off as confusion.

Oskar drew his wand, "You are not sweat coated and stupid acting for no reason, Viktor!"

"I was - I was training!" Viktor shouted, thinking quickly.

"Training?" Oskar demanded, lowering his wand.

Viktor nodded, "Yes, working out. Preparing for the next task, for what the egg has revealed to me!"

Oskar stared at his son with doubt, taking in the discarded shirt, the knocked-over books, and the protective stand Viktor was taking... Oskar's eyes went to the wardrobe door.

Viktor's mind raced frantically and in desperation he said the one thing he thought might save him. His voice lowered, "Father please, I have - I have a girl in the wardrobe."

Oskar stopped short. "A girl?" he repeated.

"Yes," Viktor said. "A girl. We were - we were to have s private dinner." He flushed.

"What girl? It is not the Beauxbaton champion, is it?" Oskar's face looked torn between anger and interest. "She could be trying to discourage you to win, Viktor, using feminine wiles to charm you into letting her win and steal my - I mean - your glory."

Viktor shook his head.

"What girl, then?" Oskar growled.

"A - a Hogwarts girl. I met her in the library."

Oskar knew his son had been spending an incredible amount of time in the castle library. To see a girl there seemed, to Oskar, a much more plausible reason than the idea of spending so much time reading did. He eyed his son carefully.

"And what of -- your previous fancies?" Oskar asked indelicately.

Viktor said exactly what he knew Oskar wanted to hear. "I have realized with disgust you were right about Mr. Kent's influence on me."

Oskar considered this, glancing again at the closet door, and then back to his son's bright face, still breathless from the amorous activities as well as the adrenaline of being caught. He drew a deep breath. If his son was going to be normal and see girls the last thing he wanted to do was discourage that turn of desire in any way. He felt vindicated that Oliver Kent had been the reason for Viktor's filthy fascination over the summer - probably that filth had been grooming his son on purpose for his own uses and Oskar was thankful anew to have terminated the quidditch player's contract as he had. This was proof what he had done was right and he was saving his boy. Just a couple of months past and Viktor had found himself a girlfriend.

Oskar nodded, "Very well." He turned for the door and stepped outside before he paused and turned back around. "Be safe, my son, we do not need any mistakes derailing your career."

Viktor's cheeks burned with humiliation. "Yes father."

He watched as Oskar walked away before he closed the door and set locking charms upon it, hands shaking and feeling the weight of shame on his shoulders.

The closet door creaked behind him and he turned to see Aleksander creeping out.

"You lied,"'Aleksander said.

"What was I to do?" Viktor demanded. "Let him find you in there? He would have flayed us both."

"For you, I would have come out," Aleksander said.

Viktor's fists balled with frustration, "He would never accept it," he said.

"He does not have to," Aleksander argued.

Viktor sighed heavily, "You do not understand."

"You are too coward to tell him to fuck off," Aleksander said. "You will lie about anything to keep him placated and you will die in the fangs of a vicious dragon before you will stand up for yourself. You rather to die than to fight." Aleksander shook his head, "I thought maybe after the dragon, after seeing what he expects of you, that you might be ready to confess this - us - to him now, but I see it is now only more excuses and lies from you."

"Aleksander --"

"No, I am disappointed but I should have known better than to expect change. Perhaps you and your imaginary girlfriend will have a gooder time alone than we might have done." He pushed around Viktor, headed for the door.

"She is not imaginary; she is just Hermyown, just a friend. We read together and that is all," Viktor said. "My father will see us together and will not question again, so then you and I are free now, Aleksander, we can -"

"No we can't. And even if we could, I no longer want to." The words were cold. Aleksander added, "Besides - your father will see I am missing in the Hall now and perhaps your precious secret would be found out. I must go."

Viktor closed his eyes, tears slipping out between lashes, and he listened as the door opened and Aleksander left. The door closed behind him and Viktor waited several silent moments before he opened his eyes again to look around himself at the books and discarded shirt, at the gaping closet door and the refection of his face in the small mirror on the wall - flushed and damp, small red marks rising up on his neck and chest where Aleksander's mouth had been moments before.

Viktor swore and turned, taking his anger out on the golden egg - the symbol of  this stupid championship - and threw it against the far wall. Instead of shattering like he had hoped it would do, the egg simply burst open and a shrieking filled the room that matched Viktor's emotions all too well.

He started screaming along with it.