This Is Living

LunaViktor, for Sunny

They meet for the first time at the Yule Ball. She's no more than thirteen, but he's an eighteen year old hero, and he's used to worship.

So it's a shock for him when she asks his name, after he sits down near her, having given up on finding Hermy… Hermon… his date. Doesn't the girl recognise his face?

Apparently not, and she still doesn't recognise him when he tells her he's Viktor Krum.

Eventually, she remembers him as 'that man who lost in the Quidditch World Cup'. It's not the name he would have preferred, but at least she knows who he is, so he is safe in the knowledge that all the fame he has known for the past few years is not just in his head.

"Oh, dear. You're surrounded by nargles!"

The statement is so random, so unexpected, that he can't help but think he must have misheard. "Vat?" he asks, a frown on his face.

"Here," she replies, waving her hands around his head, apparently chasing away something. She looks directly into his eyes and smiles, her large blue eyes wide and honest. "That better?"

He's slightly stunned by this strange young blonde, and for a second he can't speak. Because her face is so close to his, and her eyelashes sweep her cheeks as she blinks, and her hair tickles his face slightly as she leans eversoslightly closer.

But she's far too young.

Surely?

"How old are you?" he asks her suddenly, pulling his face away.

"Thirteen," she tells him, "But Daddy always said that I'm wise for my years."

But of course she's that young. She probably shouldn't be here, he thinks bitterly- it's probably past her bedtime.

She tells him how she came with a Ravenclaw, Michael Corner. She points and waves to him, and Viktor can see that the boy is somewhat occupied, arms around a pretty redhead. He's not sure what to say, because it's obvious that this Michael would rather not have come with her, but she doesn't seem to care, so he lets a comfortable silence settle over them like a blanket.

It gets later and later, but neither of them seem to want to move. Then, when the Ball is nearly over with, and only a few stragglers are left, the girl stands, and, somewhat formally, asks him to dance.

Standing with his arms around this girl, turning in slow, steady circles, he feels almost at home. And he starts to think some more.

Because she's only a year younger than Hermy-own, right?

Five years isn't that much of a difference…

She understands, he thinks, and he isn't surprised, because she seems to know everything without having to be told.

And so she gently puts her hands on his shoulders, calming the inner battle he's fighting with himself and making him focus on only one thing (herfaceherfaceherface).

And she leans up to him-

And he leans down-

And he's not even breathing-

And they kiss.

They stay there for a long time, arms around each other, man and girl (woman) side by side.

"Merry Christmas, Viktor," she whispers in his ear.

"Merry Christmas."

When they part, and the Ball is completely over, teachers ushering remaining couples to bed, he realises he never even learned her name.