Dancing without Music

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Harry Potter. This is an amateur, non-profit work.
Prompts: Billywig sting, Viktor Krum
A/N: Thanks for reading!

No band played, but she danced anyway. At least, Viktor thought it was supposed to be dancing. He vaguely remembered that Weasley cousin — Barry? Bart? — explaining the girl's weird, jerky movements at Bill and Fleur's wedding. What had he called it? Ridding herself of Knacksports? Some sort of odd British dance, no doubt.

Swatting at the air in front of her, the blonde girl spun in uneven circles, like the drunken path of a housefly. As she picked up speed, her silver robes fanned out until he could see the bright yellow socks that went all the way up to her knees.

So strange. If she was, in fact, dancing, why had she chosen to do so at a memorial service?

Resting his back against the half-repaired castle, Viktor continued to watch her display. Before the desire to introduce himself and ask about her behaviour had fully formed, something buzzed near his ear. It moved too quickly for even his Seeker's eyes to track it, but he felt the sting well enough. Pain jolted through his neck, burning and sharp.

He didn't realise he was floating until he tried to take a step forward.

Viktor could take a nosedive on a broom from a hundred feet in the air and feel nothing but an exhilarating rush of adrenaline, but this spontaneous hovering made him release a startled yelp.

"Ooh," the blonde girl said, dance-swatting her way over to him. "You found one of my Billywigs!"

"One of your Billyvigs?"

She nodded. "I kept them in a gargoyle with a Warming Charm last year, but it didn't survive the battle."

As he rose higher and higher, she grabbed his ankle. Her slight weight was enough to keep him from soaring into the sky. He bobbed there, tethered to the ground by her arm.

So. This was how balloons felt.

"Vy vould you keep them on purpose?" he asked.

"I had plans to use them on the Carrows. Also, Floogles like Billywig honey."

Viktor decided to refrain from asking what a Floogle was.

"It needs to be fresh from the source, though," the girl said. "Raising a hive of my own seemed easier than moving to Australia." Tilting her head back, she reached her free hand up to him. "Here, give me your hand."

When he obliged, she tugged until he flipped over, switching her hold to his arm instead of his leg. Upside down, her pretty grey eyes blinked at him.

"There," she said. "Now we can talk face-to-face. Isn't that better?"

It was not. On the bright side, he'd worn a suit instead of robes.

"Oh!" she said. "I've seen you before."

Ah, of course. Now she would mention going to the Quidditch World Cup with her parents, perhaps gush over his skills as a Seeker...

"I didn't recognise you until I got a good look at your eyebrows. You argued with Daddy at Bill and Fleur's wedding. I don't think you liked his clothes."

Then again, maybe not.

"I apologise," he said. It seemed the wisest option. The last thing he wanted at that moment was to anger her. "I don't think ve vere introduced. I'm Viktor Krum."

Now she would blush and stammer, realising he was an international Quidditch star. He only hoped she wasn't the squealing type. She didn't look it, but he'd been fooled in the past.

"The Viktor Krum who is part of the Blowfish Conspiracy?"

No blushing. Not even a hint of pink. Intriguing.

"Ah, no. A different one."

This seemed to disappoint her.

"I play Kvidditch," he said. "Seeker for the Bulgarian National Team."

"Oh, that's nice."

Silence. Viktor frowned. This girl was such a mystery. Refreshing, almost. So few girls were. He wanted to see how the pieces of the puzzle fit together.

"And vat is your name, may I ask?" he said.

"Luna Lovegood."

Ah, the girl Hermione had mentioned a few times in her letters? At least her name was easy to pronounce.

"It is nice to meet you, Luna. May I ask you something?" He waited for her nod before continuing. "Vy vere you dancing?"

"Don't most people dance at celebrations?"

"Err. I suppose, but this is a memorial service for the fallen."

"I know."

"This is not usually viewed as celebration, I think."

"Really? That's strange. I thought it was supposed to be a celebration of their lives."

A grin found its way onto his lips. "Maybe you are right. Ah, Luna? How long vill I stay this way? Floating in the air, I mean."

"An hour, probably. Are you hungry? I could tie you up next to those cakes over there."

Perhaps it was the fault of the blood rushing to his head, but Viktor thought his odd new friend was quite beautiful. His status as a Quidditch star would obviously hold no sway with her, but still. It was worth a try.

"No, thank you," he said. "I am not hungry. Vould you like to dance vith me?"

"Oh." A surprised smile lit up her face. "That would be nice."

She didn't bother to turn him right-side-up before twirling around, but he didn't mind so much. The view was better this way.

Apparently not all of the good-looking girls were taken.

The End