The Lesson

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Rowling owns them all. I merely play with her characters.

“Do you play?”

The question was unexpected and broke the quiet silence of the room. Hermione turned away from the billiards table to find Viktor leaning against the closed door. She’d been so lost in thought that she hadn’t even heard the door open, which would have been accompanied by the noise of the party outside the room.

Viktor looked as if he, too, needed to escape from the party. His dress robes were open at the collar, the dark blue a nice contrast to his pale skin and dark hair. She noticed that his hair was askew, which she knew meant he’d been running his fingers through it as he often did when he was anxious or annoyed. Since he couldn’t stand crowds of people and especially those constantly vying for his attention, it was probably a mixture of annoyance and anxiety that had caused it to stick up slightly in a rather adorable way.

Stop it, Hermione, she scolded herself as her gaze again lingered on his lips and then the bare expanse of skin visible from his open collar. This was not the time nor the place to entertain impure thoughts about her former boyfriend. It had been more than a decade since they’d first met, nearly as long since their relationship, if you could call a few sloppy kisses and a bit of naughty touching a relationship, had faded into friendship. Owls had been exchanged, a visit or two, and then the years got away from them and they’d lost touch save for a birthday card and Christmas card every year.

It had been such an unexpected surprise to run into him again, especially somewhere as unlikely as Muggle Paris. She’d been in France for a conference on the rights of magical creatures and he’d been in town for a Quidditch match. There had been a slight awkwardness at first as she’d debated whether to hug him or not and he’d simply looked at her with that same intense gaze as always. He’d said her name, still mispronouncing it but closer than he’d been in previous years, and she’d smiled.

There had been a hug, brief as she’d felt a stirring of attraction that she’d felt as a teen but had been too young to really understand, and a chaste kiss against his sharp cheekbone. He’d kissed her cheek, his lips chapped and dry, and he’d lingered just a little too long for her to be able to deny that the attraction was not reciprocated. They’d had a drink, catching up on their lives, keeping everything between them very friendly and casual. That had led to dinner and they‘d ended up meeting a few times before he had to leave. A soft kiss, lips barely touching lips, and a gentle brush of his fingers across her cheek had been followed by a promise to keep in touch

They’d met several more times in the weeks since Paris. Every time, they exchanged the briefest of kisses upon parting. And every time, the kiss became a little more lingering and more difficult to end. Of course, she had begun to believe that the attraction was completely one-sided. She’d caught him looking at her a few times, but he had made no attempt to touch her in any way that felt different than when Ron or Harry casually touched her and he’d not tried to deepen the kiss or even to grope her.

It was nice to rebuild a friendship that had once meant a lot to her. She couldn’t blame Viktor for pulling away after she firmly told him she didn’t want that sort of relationship. She’d been sixteen and fancied herself in love with Ron, who had been a constant in her life and made her feel all confused in ways she had assumed meant love. She’d thought about kissing him, wondered what he’d be like intimately, and all the silly things girl seemed to think about when they liked someone.

Viktor had confused her, too, but it had been different. They’d spent hours talking while he’d been at Hogwarts and then in letters. She knew he liked her, knew he wanted more than she was willing or able to give at the time, and she’d not wanted to risk a friendship she’d grown to treasure because she felt all mixed up physically around him. While she’d think about kissing Ron, with Viktor, her thoughts had been far less innocent and hesitant. She had kissed him, after all. She’d only been fifteen and really quite unknowledgeable about that sort of thing, but she’d known desire and attraction when Viktor had touched her.

At that time, she’d been unable to see anything more for her and Viktor. He lived so far away, was several years older, was a famous Quidditch player with a lot of female fans, and it would have been foolish to even consider some sort of attempt at a relationship. She’d been too young, not at all ready for the physical aspects of such a relationship. It wouldn’t have been fair to either of them if she‘d not been honest with him at that time.

Now she was twenty-seven. Her relationship with Ron had lasted nearly two years before they’d parted as friends, unable to deny any longer that they just didn’t fit no matter how much they wished they did and thought they should. She’d not been involved with anyone else since ending things with Ron eight years ago and had only had a handful of dates in that time, all of which had ended shortly after they’d begun. She didn’t believe in casual shagging so she was more than familiar with the joys of self-pleasure and had a small collection of toys she used when she had that sort of urge.

She tried not to dwell on the fact that the person she often thought of while enjoying those toys was now standing right in front of her looking at her curiously.

“Vat is wrong, Her-my-knee?” Viktor asked with a frown of concern as he pushed away from the door and walked towards her.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she assured him. “I’m just not overly fond of crowds and wanted to escape.”

“I ask question but you no answer,” he pointed out. “You, how they say? Stare into space?”

“Oh, right.” Hermione thought back to what he’d asked and shook her head. “No, I don’t play billiards.”

Viktor reached the side of the billiards table and looked at her thoughtfully. He wasn’t traditionally handsome by any means. His face was all harsh angles and strong edges. His jaw was slightly wide, his nose too long and just a little crooked, his upper lip was thin over a full bottom lip, and he had thick eyebrows. He wasn’t pretty nor would anyone ever call him beautiful, but she thought he was incredibly striking. She really liked his eyes, thought his nose made him distinguished , could recall just how kissable his lips were, and appreciated just how masculine he looked in a world where most blokes were rather poncy.

And then he smiled and she felt her heart skip a beat. Smiles from Viktor were rare. She’d been close enough to him to know that he was often moody, focused on his game and the subjects he enjoyed, intense in a way that matched her own tendencies, and really didn’t understand the concept of relaxing and having fun for the most part. His smile was slight, just a quirk of his lips that hinted at his amusement or happiness, but it seemed to relax him.

For the first time since they’d reunited in Paris, he seemed less tense and on edge. He was still staring at her in a way that caused her skin to flush and her knickers to grow damp only now there was a knowing gleam in his eyes that only confused her even more. She was startled when he began to unfasten his dress robes, his long fingers deftly unbuttoning each button until he shrugged the garment off his broad shoulders and carefully put it over a nearby chair.

She watched the fabric of his black trousers pull tight across his firm arse as he turned to arrange his robes and her gaze swept along the length of him to finally rest on the soft locks of black hair that brushed against the collar of his white shirt. His hair was as shaggy as always, though possibly a bit longer than normal. She curled her fingers into a fist to resist the urge to reach out and touch, simply waiting to see why he was removing his robe. “Are you warm, Viktor? I can perform a minor cooling charm if the fire has made the room too stifling.”

He looked over his shoulder and she bit her lip as his gaze moved over her with a sensual slowness that had her glancing down to make sure she was still dressed. When their gazes met, he darted out his tongue and quickly licked his lips before he spoke. “Is not fire making me hot,” he murmured in a husky voice that sent awareness through her as the room suddenly became far too warm for her. He seemed a bit hesitant about the words he had spoken and she found that shyness even more appealing.

“Oh.” She cringed at her response, wondering where her infamous skill with words was at the moment. He basically undressed her with his eyes, told her that she was the one making him hot, and she says ‘oh’? No wonder she was still single. She was bloody awful at this whole male-female relationship game playing thing.

“Vant to learn?”

She blinked stupidly and wondered if he could read minds now. Of course, that idea was ridiculous. Wasn’t it? He could have studied Legilimency, but she’d have recognized the signs after all the years of being around Harry. That meant he wasn’t asking if she wanted to learn about male-female relationships.

“I vill teach you,” he declared as he finished fussing with his robes and turned to face her. He walked back towards the table with an effortless grace that also hinted at his agility in the air. “You vill take off robe now?”

“What?” she said a bit more shrilly than anticipated.

He gave her a quizzical frown and moved his hand up and down in the air. “Your robes? Vill be easier if they are off. It get, how you say?”

“I have no idea.”

“Her-my-knee, robes get in way of playing. You do not vant them on when it gets hot.”

“I’m not hot,” she told him quickly, not wanting to admit that she’d been far more daring than normal and not worn anything beneath her dress robes tonight. It had been impulsive and now proved to have been a foolish choice, but she had liked the idea of wearing only naughty knickers beneath the fancy robes. When he’d invited her to escort him to his family’s holiday party, she’d intended to wear a nice black dress beneath her robes; classy and elegant. However, when she’d been getting dressed for the party, she’d listened to that wicked voice that told her to forget the dress.

“Is more comfortable without robes,” he said as he reached over the edge of the table and moved his finger over one of the buttons of her robe. “You vill take them off so we play?”

“My robes will be staying on, Viktor.” She spoke firmly even as she trembled slightly from the touch of his rough fingertips on her breastbone as he touched the low neckline of her robe. She wanted to step back but thought he’d get even more suspicious if she did so. Instead, she wanted to clarify what he was talking about since her wicked ideas were definitely not what was on his mind. She asked, “Now what is it you’re wanting to teach me?”

His hand slid up her throat to cup her chin. He brushed his thumb over her lips slowly and stared at her for a moment before he took a step back and ran his fingers through his thick hair. “That is question with many answers, Her-my-knee,” he muttered as he glanced at her from beneath the fringe of his shaggy hair. “I vant teach you play billiards, for now. Vill you say yes?”

“For now?” she echoed softly as she looked at the billiards table and unconsciously touched her lips. He wanted to teach her billiards. She nodded slowly. “Of course, Viktor. I’ve always wanted to learn how to play.”

“Oh. Good.” He seemed to let out a deep breath she’d not realized he’d been holding. “Vill be awkward learning vith robe on.”

“I’m fine,” she told him as her cheeks turned slightly pink.

He looked at her again and smiled. “You a stubborn woman, Her-my-knee,” he told her in a soft voice before he looked away and she watched his lips move as if he were counting to himself. He picked up a stick from the billiards table and then met her gaze. “Fine, I teach you now. Come here.”

Hermione knew the basic principles of billiards, but she’d never played and hadn’t honestly paid a lot of attention. She stepped closer to him and inhaled the scent of peppermint, spice, and…broom polish? She smiled at the decidedly odd but utterly Viktor combination of scents. Her smile faded when he moved behind her, his body pressing her against the billiards table. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, hard, when he leaned forward and brought her body flush against his.

“I know not names for these,” he murmured against her ear as he ran his hand along her arm in a lazy caress before he urged her hand to open and laid the billiards stick across her palm. “Ve vill call it stick, okay?”

“Stick. Right,” she replied breathlessly. His hair tickled her cheek as he urged her to stroke the stick. Oh God. That thought alone was enough for her to be torn between giggling nervously and moaning as she pressed her arse back against him.

“I vill now teach you how use stick,” he decided as he rubbed circles against the back of her hand with his thumb.

He was taller than her yet she could feel his breath against her ear as he spoke. She tightened her grip on the stick when she felt something hard and solid press against her back as he leaned them forward more. Suddenly, the sound of loud laughter intruded upon them. She looked up to see an unfamiliar wizard standing in the doorway holding a drink in his hand.

Viktor cursed under his breath in his native language and stepped away from her to deal with the intruder. “Ve are not vanting to be disturb,” he told the wizard with a hint of firmness and threat that left most people intimidated or skittish around him. This wizard was no exception and quickly stumbled back into the party that Hermione had forgotten was even happening outside this room.

While Viktor was turned away, she took a moment to collect herself. She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror above the low bar that was behind the billiards table and cringed. She was flushed, obviously aroused, and she could swear her eyes were gleaming with lust, which was really quite a ridiculous notion. She was grateful for the loose robe that concealed the fact that her nipples were hard and her lace knickers were even more damp after he touched her.

“Vould you like drink?” Viktor asked suddenly. She watched him walk to the bar, careful to keep his back to her the entire way.

“Nothing too strong. Maybe a glass of wine?” she suggested as she stared at his arse and shifted in place. She tried not to rub her thighs together like some wanton slag but couldn’t help trying to get some sort of friction. As she did so, her arm brushed against her breasts and she moaned softly before she could catch herself.

Viktor coughed and drew her attention. He was standing rigidly against the bar and she noticed that his hand was gripping the edge of the wood tightly. His head was bent and she could hear him whispering something in Bulgarian that she didn’t understand.

“Viktor, are you all right?”

He turned quickly to look at her and she had to hold the billiards table for support at the look in his eyes. He was aroused. His cheeks were flushed and she could see his erection pressed against the front of his trousers. Her gaze lingered on the bulge before she looked away and busied herself by fiddling with the stick. “I have red vine,” he told her gruffly.

“Red wine is fine,” she stammered slightly as she collected herself enough to look back up at him. He had partially turned towards the bar and was pouring two glasses of wine. She noticed that he was biting his lip and his hand seemed to be shaking as he carefully poured the wine. When he walked back to the table, he stayed on the side opposite her and passed her a glass of wine. Her hand shook as she took it from him and his fingers caressed her hand, spilling a bit of wine on the billiards table and her hand.

“Is fine,” he told her before she could apologize. A quick wave of his wand and muttered cleaning charm had the table free of wine. Her hand, however, was still wet. She started to pull it back when he reached for it. He leaned across the table and tentatively licked away the spilled wine.

“Oh God,” she whispered as he looked at her and became less tentative. When he straightened up, he quickly picked up his own glass and drank half of it. Hermione could feel the tension in a way she’d never felt before. It excited her but it also scared her. If her reaction to him was this intense now, what would it be like if she let something happen?

“Ve vill now continue lesson.” His voice was firm but she could hear the slight hoarseness as he spoke. His gaze met hers and he asked, “Do you vant more?”

Hermione knew he wasn’t asking about billiards or wine. Without having to think about it, she nodded. “Yes, I want more, Viktor.”

“Are you sure, Her-my-knee? I may...I have vant for you for long time. I vill not be able to...” He struggled with his words and cursed in Bulgarian.

“I’m sure,” she interrupted him and realized the truth in her words as she spoke them. “Teach me, Viktor.”

His hand shook slightly as he ran it over his face and took a deep breath. Then he was behind her again, and a new awareness, acknowledged and no longer controlled, was present when he touched her hand. “I vill teach you,” he whispered against her ear.

Hermione closed her eyes when his lips brushed against the sensitive area beneath her ear. When he began to instruct her on how to play billiards, she opened them and tried to focus. Every word was accompanied by a touch, a kiss, and she finally started to touch him. She stroked his hand, caressed his arm, and pressed back against him.

“You must,” he panted softly, “try get stripey balls in pocket.” He leaned forward to show her how to hold the stick and hit the ball.

As he did so, she pushed her arse back and rolled her hips in a gesture that was so unlike her that she couldn’t stop blushing. He groaned and the next thing she knew, the stick was dropped to the table and she was turned around with her arse on the edge and her legs on either side of him.

“Vant you so much, Her-my-knee,” he muttered against her lips before he kissed her.

Hermione returned his kiss and wrapped her legs around his waist. She pulled him closer; her hand moved beneath his shirt to touch bare skin, and her other hand tangled in his thick hair. The sound of the party outside got louder but was quickly followed by an apology and the sound of the door closing. She broke the kiss long enough to reach for her wand and perform a locking charm on the door before she kissed him again.

It had been far too long since they’d kissed, though their wet and sloppy snogs during her fourth year at Hogwarts were nothing compared to this. This was everything she had never realized she needed and everything she could ever want. His mouth left hers and trailed wet kisses over her cheek and jaw. She whimpered as he nuzzled her neck and he squeezed her breast through her robe.

“You not have clothes beneath robe, do you?” he asked as he pushed against her at that realization and groaned softly. “Her-my-knee, you try kill me. Vant more. Vant you. Vill you accept me?”

“I’m not trying to kill you,” she said with a smile as she gripped his hair and leaned her head over so he could reach her neck. She forced him to raise his head and caressed his cheek as she answered his last question. “Yes, Viktor. Please?”

He shuddered and buried his face against her neck. “Have vanted hear that for long time,” he confessed in a whisper against sweat-slick skin. His teeth scraped against her neck and she whimpered as she tightened her grip on his hair. He bit down and sucked her skin as his fingers tried to unbutton her robe. He fumbled and finally raised his head to glare at the buttons. He gripped each side of fabric and ripped, sending the buttons flying to the floor and baring her to his hungry gaze.

“Viktor! That robe cost me quite a few gal-” Her words were caught by his lips, no longer so tentative and shy. He pushed her robe off her shoulders and then his hands were everywhere. She was only wearing red knickers with a matching bra and garters beneath it, the silk of her stockings clinging to her legs as she became more aroused and her body began to glisten with sweat.

Viktor stepped back and simply looked at her for a moment. “You...red knickers...your breasts...so...beautiful,” he managed to stay as he fought to speak a language not his own as he became more and more aroused. He unfastened the top few buttons of his shirt and then pulled it over his head. He tossed it to the ground and moved back between her legs.

“I want you,” she told him breathlessly. She reached down and tried to unzip his trousers, but the silly zip wouldn’t lower. She growled in frustration and then looked at him. They both laughed and she smiled sheepishly. “Your zip won’t lower.”

“I vill do it,” he told her before he kissed her again. The urgency was still there, present when his fingernails scraped against her back as he unclasped her bra and when she ignored her insecurities about her round hips and the soft swell of tummy that he was seeing, but it was coupled with affection as well as lust.

Viktor unzipped his trousers and her hand was instantly there, touching his heated flesh. He was hard and ready, the head of his cock coated with pre-come, and he twitched in her hand as she started to stroke him. His hand moved between them and she moaned against his broad shoulder when his fingers pulled her knickers to the side and pushed inside her.

It had been a long time since she’d had anything inside her except for her own fingers and a few slim toys that didn’t compare at all to the size of Viktor. She ached and her hips rolled so she could press against his hand, wanting him inside her. She didn’t have to tell him. He withdrew his wet fingers and she raised her head to watch him suck them into his mouth. “Viktor,” she whimpered as she let go of his cock and pushed against him.

“Her-my-knee,” he groaned as he gripped her hips to prevent her from rubbing against him. “Stop. I vill not last if you do that.”

That was the last thing he said before he pulled her to the edge of the billiards table and held his cock as he began to enter her. Her head fell back, her hair brushing against her robe and the green felt of the billiards table, and she held on to his shoulders as he began to push and pull, making shallow thrusts at first so she could adjust to his size.

Her knickers pulled tight across her arse as they gathered to the side but soon she forgot all about their lack of comfort when Viktor was buried completely inside her. His trousers and shorts were bunched around his thighs and her ankles were balanced on his trousers as she tightened her legs around him. He was kissing and licking her throat and breasts as he moved in and out, sucking her nipples until she was moaning.

Once she had adjusted, he moved faster, deeper, the sound of their heavy breathing and slap of skin against skin louder to her than the party happening just outside the door. Viktor didn’t last long. He kissed her deeply as his thrusts became more urgent. She caught his low grunt of release as he shuddered against her and came. When he was completely spent, he released her mouth and frowned.

“I vill take care of you now,” he promised with the same look in his eyes they he got when he was trying to catch the Snitch. He gently pressed against her chest to urge her backwards and then moved to kneel between her legs.

Hermione laid back against the billiards table, rolling the stick away towards the group of billiard balls to get it out of her way. His hands gripped her arse and pulled her even closer to the edge, her legs over his shoulders as he leaned forward and nuzzled her wet cunt. He began to lick her and the knowledge that he’d just come in her and was now licking caused her to shudder in a very wicked way.

His tongue cleaned her, his nose rubbed her clit, and she felt his hair against her lower belly every time he swept his tongue from her arse to clit. When he pushed two fingers inside her and sucked her clit into his mouth, she couldn’t hold back any longer. She came with a soft cry, her body trembling as he licked and used his fingers to make her come.

“Viktor, enough,” she managed to pant as he kept licking her clit. He raised his head and stood up. Her gaze caught his and he smiled. As he crawled onto the billiards table beside her, his strong arm moved around her waist and he pulled her against him. He began to whisper to her in his native tongue, words she didn’t understand but their meaning obvious from the way he was holding her and touching her.

She looked at him, surprisingly unembarrassed about what they’d just done and where they’d done it. His face was flushed from coming, his hair was a mess and stuck to his sweaty forehead, and his lips were wet with their combined release. In that moment, as he held her against him on his parents’ billiards table, she realized she’d been wrong earlier. Viktor was beautiful. A content smile crossed her lips as she snuggled against him. She stroked his cheek and kissed him gently before she told him in all seriousness, “I think I’m going to need a lot more lessons.”

The End