Ficlet: The Match (Viktor/Ginny)
Author: captainpookey
Recipient: the_glass_onion for the rarepair_shorts Summer Wishlist Event.
Title: The Match
Pairing: Viktor/Ginny
Request: "Ginny pins down Viktor"
Rating: PG / PG-13
Word Count: ~1,300 (got a bit long, although I didn't intend it to!)
Summary: Viktor stays at the Burrow to audition for a seasonal Quidditch team trade-off and Ginny's temper drives her to propose a bet that could have unexpected results.
Author's Notes: The way I figure it is between World Cups most players play on different regional teams in their separate leagues, and just like in football/soccer players can be traded around in leagues or whatever, so too can Quidditch players. But, erm, to be on the safe side don't look too closely at the details here.
Ginny didn’t notice when Viktor walked into the kitchen, absorbed in her toast as she was, until Hermione straightened up on the stool next to her and set her paper down with a loud rustling. “Is your audition this morning, Viktor?” Hermione asked-much too cheerily for so early in the morning, Ginny might add.
“Yes, in two hours.”
“Are you nervous?”
“No. I am a better Seeker than vhat this team has already,” he shrugged, grabbed himself a plate and an orange, and sat down at the table to peel it.
This caused Ginny to glance up in irritation. She raised her eyebrows at him, her toast halted mid-way to her mouth. “Excuse me,” she interrupted, “But if you’re so good then why are they asking you to audition and not just signing you on right away?”
“Ginny,” Hermione hissed, but Ginny simply ignored her.
“I mean, really. What makes you think that we really do need you and Bulgaria’s not just trying to get rid of you?”
He frowned for a moment, but more in thought than in any sort of discomfort or irritation. This bothered Ginny a little; most normal people would exhibit a stronger response than just a measly thoughtful frown.
“After all,” Ginny continued, perhaps trying to provoke a more interesting response from him, or perhaps trying to defend her team’s merit as a team without The Great Viktor Krum on its roster, “There’s me-“
“You?” his eyebrows shot up incredulously before she could even finish listing her teammates. “You think you vill be a problem for me in this audition? But you are tiny.”
“Hey!” she shouted, dropping her toast loudly onto her plate despite the fact that this was exactly the sort of response she was looking for-before, that is, she figured the response would contain such a personal insult. “Size doesn’t mean anything.”
“Yes, but I vos simply saying that you are small, and if you vere to get in my vay, I vould haff no problem getting you out of it. Small people may handle the ball as vell as anyone, but they are not so good at blocking big people.”
“Yeah?” She asked and instinctively rose from her chair.
“Oh lord,” Hermione whispered, head in her hands. She looked pleadingly at Ginny from between her fingers. “Please don’t do this. Leave him alone. It’s not like his audition will threaten your contract, Ginny.”
Ginny smiled at Hermione and rolled her sleeves up. “I know.” Hermione couldn’t stop Ginny’s innate thirst for competition, just like Ginny had never been able to stop Hermione from reading a good book. “Just making a point, is all.” Ginny turned to Viktor now and, ignoring the fact that they were both still dressed in their pajamas and he had only finished with half of his orange, posed a very innocent question, “Want to wrestle?”
“Huh?” he asked.
“Wrestle,” she repeated. “I’ll bet you five galleons I could beat you in a wrestling match.”
“And if I vin?” he asked, obviously intrigued.
“I’ll quit being a pain and won’t purposely try to get in your way during your audition.”
“Okay.”
“Viktor-” Hermione angled, but he stopped her by holding up his hand.
“Herm-own-ninny, it is okay. She is a girl, and I vill go easy on her. It vill be quick. No problems.”
“For the girl comment, make it ten galleons,” Ginny added.
He nodded solemnly and began to roll his head across his shoulders to stretch it. “Vhere do Veasleys wrestle in this home?”
“Outside, follow me.” She turned on her heel and kicked off her slippers as she went, leading him out the back door until they stood about ten feet apart, facing each other in an empty patch of the garden. A weary Hermione followed, coffee mug in hand and the Prophet tucked under her arm.
“What’s going on?” Ron quipped from, presumably, the kitchen.
“Nothing,” Hermione replied.
“I’m wrestling Viktor!” Ginny yelled and, before the two had even finished doing their warm-up stretches, Ron, George, Bill, and even Fleur had all gathered around to watch. Hermione’s head found its way into her hands again and Ron was doing his best to pretend to comfort her without taking his eyes off his sister and her twice-as-large Bulgarian counterpart.
“He’s going to crush her,” Ron marveled.
“I dunno, bro, Ginny’s got spunk,” Bill mused.
“Zis is so inappropriate. Bill, do little girls always wrestle with men in this country? I was under ze eempression that even you English ‘ad better morales then zese. I am in agreement with Ronald, I think.”
“I can hear you all. Please shut up,” Ginny yelled from the grass where she had begun bouncing up and down on the balls of her bare feet. “Ready, Viktor?”
“Yes.”
“Good, let’s go!”
- - - -
“Well zat was certainly unexpected,” Fleur said.
“Is that kind of thing even legal?” Ron asked.
“I mean… they didn’t exactly specify any rules, did they?” Bill mused.
“You’ve got to admit,” Hermione said after a short pause, “She wasn’t exactly losing in the first place.”
Viktor lay sprawled across the grass on his back with Ginny seated comfortably along his chest with her feet to either side of him and her hands resting on his breast bone as if this were quite natural for her. He still had a dazed and confused look about his face, and his mouth hung open most impolitely. So much so, in fact, that after a moment of bemused staring, Ginny gently reached up and shut it for him.
This seemed to pull him out of his state of shock because he quickly rounded on her with a flustered, “But that vos most unfair. I demand a rematching.”
“Ten galleons,” Ginny just chirped, holding out her palm.
“But you are not allowed to do that.”
“Which part? The part where I kicked your shins and got you on your knees? Or the part where I twisted your arm behind your back and made you yell?”
“How about the part vhere you kissed me and then shoved me to the ground and sat on me?” Viktor demanded. He sat up on his palms, which caused Ginny to slip off his chest and into the grass by his side.
She gave him a cheeky grin. “Well it worked, didn’t it?”
“It vos not fair,” he insisted.
“Oh, come on Viktor. Quit being a sore loser. We made a bet, you lost, that’s that.” She stood up and offered him a hand. He ignored it and pulled himself up with a grunt. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll do great at the audition. The Arrows are glad to have you, at least for the seasonal matches.” She offered him her outstretched hand for a warm shake.
He glared at it a moment and then reluctantly handed over his own to her for a few short seconds. “Still, it vos not fair. We must redo.”
“Fine, fine, we will later. I’ll still win.”
“And you vill not kiss me?”
Ginny shrugged. “Not unless you want me to.”
At that his cheeks reddened significantly and he fumbled for a response. Ginny just winked and started off across the grass with a lightness to her step that nearly resembled skipping. It didn’t really bother her that she could hear him telling Hermione that, ‘…In the air, that vould not vork’ and that he was still ‘much bigger and more powerful, as a man, and vould outmatch her in the air any time’ he was just ‘not most graceful on the ground’.
She’d never really cared what he thought about these things anyway.
And Hermione kept giggling, so Ginny had the feeling she didn’t really either.
Recipient: the_glass_onion for the rarepair_shorts Summer Wishlist Event.
Title: The Match
Pairing: Viktor/Ginny
Request: "Ginny pins down Viktor"
Rating: PG / PG-13
Word Count: ~1,300 (got a bit long, although I didn't intend it to!)
Summary: Viktor stays at the Burrow to audition for a seasonal Quidditch team trade-off and Ginny's temper drives her to propose a bet that could have unexpected results.
Author's Notes: The way I figure it is between World Cups most players play on different regional teams in their separate leagues, and just like in football/soccer players can be traded around in leagues or whatever, so too can Quidditch players. But, erm, to be on the safe side don't look too closely at the details here.
Ginny didn’t notice when Viktor walked into the kitchen, absorbed in her toast as she was, until Hermione straightened up on the stool next to her and set her paper down with a loud rustling. “Is your audition this morning, Viktor?” Hermione asked-much too cheerily for so early in the morning, Ginny might add.
“Yes, in two hours.”
“Are you nervous?”
“No. I am a better Seeker than vhat this team has already,” he shrugged, grabbed himself a plate and an orange, and sat down at the table to peel it.
This caused Ginny to glance up in irritation. She raised her eyebrows at him, her toast halted mid-way to her mouth. “Excuse me,” she interrupted, “But if you’re so good then why are they asking you to audition and not just signing you on right away?”
“Ginny,” Hermione hissed, but Ginny simply ignored her.
“I mean, really. What makes you think that we really do need you and Bulgaria’s not just trying to get rid of you?”
He frowned for a moment, but more in thought than in any sort of discomfort or irritation. This bothered Ginny a little; most normal people would exhibit a stronger response than just a measly thoughtful frown.
“After all,” Ginny continued, perhaps trying to provoke a more interesting response from him, or perhaps trying to defend her team’s merit as a team without The Great Viktor Krum on its roster, “There’s me-“
“You?” his eyebrows shot up incredulously before she could even finish listing her teammates. “You think you vill be a problem for me in this audition? But you are tiny.”
“Hey!” she shouted, dropping her toast loudly onto her plate despite the fact that this was exactly the sort of response she was looking for-before, that is, she figured the response would contain such a personal insult. “Size doesn’t mean anything.”
“Yes, but I vos simply saying that you are small, and if you vere to get in my vay, I vould haff no problem getting you out of it. Small people may handle the ball as vell as anyone, but they are not so good at blocking big people.”
“Yeah?” She asked and instinctively rose from her chair.
“Oh lord,” Hermione whispered, head in her hands. She looked pleadingly at Ginny from between her fingers. “Please don’t do this. Leave him alone. It’s not like his audition will threaten your contract, Ginny.”
Ginny smiled at Hermione and rolled her sleeves up. “I know.” Hermione couldn’t stop Ginny’s innate thirst for competition, just like Ginny had never been able to stop Hermione from reading a good book. “Just making a point, is all.” Ginny turned to Viktor now and, ignoring the fact that they were both still dressed in their pajamas and he had only finished with half of his orange, posed a very innocent question, “Want to wrestle?”
“Huh?” he asked.
“Wrestle,” she repeated. “I’ll bet you five galleons I could beat you in a wrestling match.”
“And if I vin?” he asked, obviously intrigued.
“I’ll quit being a pain and won’t purposely try to get in your way during your audition.”
“Okay.”
“Viktor-” Hermione angled, but he stopped her by holding up his hand.
“Herm-own-ninny, it is okay. She is a girl, and I vill go easy on her. It vill be quick. No problems.”
“For the girl comment, make it ten galleons,” Ginny added.
He nodded solemnly and began to roll his head across his shoulders to stretch it. “Vhere do Veasleys wrestle in this home?”
“Outside, follow me.” She turned on her heel and kicked off her slippers as she went, leading him out the back door until they stood about ten feet apart, facing each other in an empty patch of the garden. A weary Hermione followed, coffee mug in hand and the Prophet tucked under her arm.
“What’s going on?” Ron quipped from, presumably, the kitchen.
“Nothing,” Hermione replied.
“I’m wrestling Viktor!” Ginny yelled and, before the two had even finished doing their warm-up stretches, Ron, George, Bill, and even Fleur had all gathered around to watch. Hermione’s head found its way into her hands again and Ron was doing his best to pretend to comfort her without taking his eyes off his sister and her twice-as-large Bulgarian counterpart.
“He’s going to crush her,” Ron marveled.
“I dunno, bro, Ginny’s got spunk,” Bill mused.
“Zis is so inappropriate. Bill, do little girls always wrestle with men in this country? I was under ze eempression that even you English ‘ad better morales then zese. I am in agreement with Ronald, I think.”
“I can hear you all. Please shut up,” Ginny yelled from the grass where she had begun bouncing up and down on the balls of her bare feet. “Ready, Viktor?”
“Yes.”
“Good, let’s go!”
- - - -
“Well zat was certainly unexpected,” Fleur said.
“Is that kind of thing even legal?” Ron asked.
“I mean… they didn’t exactly specify any rules, did they?” Bill mused.
“You’ve got to admit,” Hermione said after a short pause, “She wasn’t exactly losing in the first place.”
Viktor lay sprawled across the grass on his back with Ginny seated comfortably along his chest with her feet to either side of him and her hands resting on his breast bone as if this were quite natural for her. He still had a dazed and confused look about his face, and his mouth hung open most impolitely. So much so, in fact, that after a moment of bemused staring, Ginny gently reached up and shut it for him.
This seemed to pull him out of his state of shock because he quickly rounded on her with a flustered, “But that vos most unfair. I demand a rematching.”
“Ten galleons,” Ginny just chirped, holding out her palm.
“But you are not allowed to do that.”
“Which part? The part where I kicked your shins and got you on your knees? Or the part where I twisted your arm behind your back and made you yell?”
“How about the part vhere you kissed me and then shoved me to the ground and sat on me?” Viktor demanded. He sat up on his palms, which caused Ginny to slip off his chest and into the grass by his side.
She gave him a cheeky grin. “Well it worked, didn’t it?”
“It vos not fair,” he insisted.
“Oh, come on Viktor. Quit being a sore loser. We made a bet, you lost, that’s that.” She stood up and offered him a hand. He ignored it and pulled himself up with a grunt. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll do great at the audition. The Arrows are glad to have you, at least for the seasonal matches.” She offered him her outstretched hand for a warm shake.
He glared at it a moment and then reluctantly handed over his own to her for a few short seconds. “Still, it vos not fair. We must redo.”
“Fine, fine, we will later. I’ll still win.”
“And you vill not kiss me?”
Ginny shrugged. “Not unless you want me to.”
At that his cheeks reddened significantly and he fumbled for a response. Ginny just winked and started off across the grass with a lightness to her step that nearly resembled skipping. It didn’t really bother her that she could hear him telling Hermione that, ‘…In the air, that vould not vork’ and that he was still ‘much bigger and more powerful, as a man, and vould outmatch her in the air any time’ he was just ‘not most graceful on the ground’.
She’d never really cared what he thought about these things anyway.
And Hermione kept giggling, so Ginny had the feeling she didn’t really either.