Asphodel and Wormwood

Jealousy isn't a flattering shade of green

Blaise's chocolate brown eyes were trained on her like a spotlight, watching as each step brought her and her chaperone closer to his seat at the Slytherin table. He was an unexpected development for her, and although the serpentine boy was cunning he was also unrefined, and his characteristic impulsiveness made him difficult to predict.

It wasn't apparent yet what he wanted from her, but Hermione was certain of one thing - she didn't need him, he needed her. At the end of the long to-do list that was kept in her mind, she added determining what he had to gain from holding the Flamel connection against her.

His strategy was honestly laughable, despite how endearing Fleur found it to be. It was obvious that he assumed attempting to fluster her with blatant displays of affection would eventually lead to her folding to whatever endgame he was working towards. If she was going to use Viktor as an educational resource, it wouldn't hurt to also utilize him to prove a point to Blaise. Hermione needed to remind the Slytherin that she was the one who held the power in whatever dynamic they were developing - if they were developing one at all.

"It appears that you have an admirer who is jealous that you're on my arm this evening," Viktor mused in a low voice without making eye contact with her, appearing ambivalent about their interaction to the world. His words ended her internal debate about the younger man, returning her focus onto the primary task ahead of her - establishing a connection with the Durmstrang champion.

She focused her attention on the stone flooring that her kitten heels currently clicked on before realizing that her body language was exhibiting submission. Quickly righting herself, her line of sight shifted toward those chocolate brown eyes that still hadn't left her. "It's rather presumptuous of you to assume there's something to be jealous of," she replied, copying his casual mannerisms.

"Are you insinuating that there isn't? Even Headmaster Karkaroff has mentioned you in regards to your magical talents after he lectured in Defense Against the Dark Arts last week. That is one of the main reasons why I was willing to come and visit your table this evening," he replied with a gently mocking tone while covering the hand that she had comfortably tucked into his elbow with his other. It was a rather forward gesture for their first encounter and it shocked her for a moment. His skin was warm, a stark contrast to Hermione's normally cool temperature.

Hermione looked at him with her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Karkaroff hadn't said a word to her when she'd used NEWT level spells against her dueling opponent, the rather uninspiring ginger she'd later learned was named Ron Weasley. She seriously doubted that he would have mentioned her to a student of his after seeming rather unimpressed with her display of magic. Condensation dripped off her words as she countered, "Monsieur Krum-"

"Please call me Viktor."

His interruption caused her to draw in a sharp breath and her jaw to slack slightly in surprise with a sharp intake of breath. First names were meant for close friends and family; in the wizarding world, a person's last name defined them. Hermione felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment, or nervousness, she wasn't quite able to pinpoint the emotion. A ghost of a smile appeared on Viktor's face, and she realized that her reaction was exactly what he'd wanted when the left corner of his mouth slowly moved upward and caused a dimple to appear on his cheek. The crimson fabric of his school uniform was soft, but when her hand involuntarily flexed at the sight of this man looking at her with a twinkle in his deep green eyes she discovered that the muscle that it covered was firm.

Hermione lifted her left hand and placed it onto his bicep gently, attempting to gain back any semblance of control of their interaction, "I'm sure you're aware that giving me permission to call you by your first name could be taken as an offer of courtship. I'll politely decline, but would be remiss to not remind you that's a rather laissez-faire attitude for a pureblood heir to possess."