Fan Fiction Collection

Am I a King? Can my decree,Can Gondor's mark or royal sealCommand the waters of the SeaThat caused the hurt I cannot heal?

Not Sauron's wiles nor Morgul-bladeCan torment as the Sea has doneAn Elven soul; and yet you stayedWith me beneath this Eastern sun.

If I could heal, and ease your pain –The Valar gave me not that grace;And while in Arda you remain,I face the Doom of all my race.

Sometimes I wished that you'd just died too. Died, and gone on to whatever comes after, rather than stayed here to waste away, alive, but unable to live, in a world so full of darkness. Then I feel terrible for even thinking such a thing.

He had grown accustomed to watching her.

She looked up abruptly and her eyes fell on him. He felt himself blushing.

She had popped into his mind instantly, as had a vision of them gliding across an empty dance floor as she stared happily up at him with those sparkling brown eyes . . .

The Yule Ball had been like another world, a few hours of bliss so perfect that he hadn't been able to stop himself from wanting – from allowing himself to think that there could be – more.

In Quidditch, there was skill. Though Viktor trained hard, he always understood that his opponent might be stronger or faster, more deserving of the win; and for that reason he had never resented losing, had never let it make him angry or bitter – had never let it make him afraid.

The Golden Snitch was tricky, but always governed by laws Viktor understood: physics, however magically enhanced, was logical enough. But Hermione, as sensible and well-read as she was – he didn't understand her. And he felt sure he'd never be a champion at this – at knowing how to talk to her. At winning her heart.

His voice was rough around the edges, low and gentle.

And she was staring at his face, for Merlin's sake.

His voice was surprisingly gentle, his strong accent merely a melody for his words. She blushed furiously, her eyes actually closing for a moment as she breathed in the scent of him, attempting to gather her thoughts

Something clear, but layered… rich with meaning. Dark without being dull.

She aimed a good-natured whack at his shoulder, which connected solidly and did absolutely no damage to him whatsoever.

He looked absurdly hopeful for a moment, and she laughed."In your dreams."

Suddenly, Hermione felt a pair of hands grabbing her around the waist and lifting her down from her outlook on the chair. Shocked, she looked up, ready to reach for her wand, only to see the smiling face of Viktor Krum. He didn't give her any time to protest, but pulled her among the dancers and spun her round. The steps were easy enough, just little hops from one foot to the other in time with the tune, but the constant spinning made Hermione's head swim. When the music ended, Hermione was quite surprised to feel Viktor's lips brush against hers."Don't be angry, Herm-own-ninny, it's a tradition. That vas the Kiss Dance,"

From the moment he appeared on the pitch, Hermione's eyes never left the figure of Viktor Krum, who was circling high above the other players. Up in the air, he moved with elegance and grace, much like he did while dancing

He appeared fully concentrated, entirely focused on his task

Hermione liked the peaceful tranquility of winter. All it took was a simple warming charm and layers of clothes and you didn't even realize it was cold enough to see your breath.

Hermione looked up, her lips curving into a smile.

They had been meeting in the library for several weeks and had actually become rather good friends during that time, but there was still something about Viktor that flustered her.

she turned to look at the man who had spoken. "Hello, Viktor," she greeted with a warm smile that concealed her surprise at seeing him here. She did her best to ignore the rapid beating of her heart and the way his dark gaze made her cheeks flush and her palms sweaty like she was fifteen again and had a crush.

A crooked smile crossed his lips as he moved closer to her

He reached up and brushed his knuckles against her cheek before tucking a stray curl behind her ear. Their eyes met and he licked his lips as he dropped his hand.

Her heart seemed to have forgotten what it was supposed to be doing.

After all the time and effort they had put into catching his attention, the girl he noticed was the one who didn't notice him.