CAPTAIN

Pairing: Viktor/Ginny, mention of Harry/Ginny

Rating: K+

Word Count: 922

Summary: He was her captain.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Notes: For peskywhistpaw - who has probably forgotten that she even prompted me to write this considering how long it has been did so.

“Vot are you doing?”

The slender redhead jumped, and then began to cough loudly as she inadvertently inhaled some of the Firewhiskey she had been drinking. Viktor cursed silently, realising that he should have called out as he approached. Even from halfway across the pitch it had been obvious that Ginny had been lost in thought.

Reaching out quickly, he slapped her on the back with a large, firm hand, his features creasing with concern as he did so. In truth, he was already concerned. It was not everyday he came across a team mate standing along in he middle of the Quidditch pitch with a fire burning in front of them. He had been able to see the smoke winding up into the night sky from the other side of the stadium.

As her coughs died away, Ginny turned to look at him with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m burning my broom,” she said, a defiant lilt to her voice. “And my uniform, as well, actually.”

For a moment, Viktor did nothing but stare at her. Then the realisation of what she had actually said trickled through into his brain.

“Vait…. Vot?” he exclaimed, his eyes darting from her to the fire. Adrenaline flooded through him. Dragging out his wand, he fought the worst of the flames with a strong Aguamenti, while stamping out the smaller, stubborn ones with a booted foot. His efforts were wasted, however. There was little felt but charred wood, and a few ragged scraps of leather. He picked one up, but hastily cast it away as it burned his fingers.

In the background, Ginny gave a bitter little laugh, tears once again forming in her eyes.

“It’s over,” she said, and then Apparated away. A piece of parchment fluttered to the ground where she had been stood.

“Vot I am not understanding is vhy you vere setting fire to things,” Viktor said as he set the steaming mug of coffee he had been carrying down on the kitchen table. Ginny reached for it immediately, wrapping her fingers around the warmth it offered. He had found her in a bar located in a part of Vratsa where it was decidedly unsafe for a young woman to be alone. The sight of her, slumped slightly on a barstool, and flanked by a pair of suspicious looking men, had been more than enough to cause him to make an executive decision to sober her up. He was her captain, after all; she was his responsibility.

Ginny shrugged, staring into her mug with a dejected look on her face. She had no doubt been hoping that his Good Samaritan act would end with fixing her a hot drink. Viktor felt almost guilty as he placed the letter she had dropped down on the table between them.

“You should not be doing it because Harry is being a difficult.”

She looked up sharply, her eyes narrowing accusingly. “You read it?” she exclaimed, clearly horrified.

“I vos thinking you haff gone mad,” he told her, quite seriously. “I am vonting to know reason vhy.”

Ginny starred at him in disbelief. Then her lower lip began to tremble, gently, at first, and then with increasing violence. Aghast, Viktor watched as tears gathered in her eyes. His chest tightened uncomfortably, the oddly protective feelings he always felt for the Vultures sole foreign player swelling rapidly.

“He’s leaving me,” she said. “He said… He said that we didn’t have a real relationship anymore. That we were fooling ourselves, thinking that we could make it work while I was here and he was in London. I’m going to quit. I’m going to…”

Viktor shook his head at her impulsiveness. “No, you vill not. It vould be mistake.”

“Why?”

His lips curled into a lopsided grin. “Because team vould be terrible if you did.”

For the first time that day, Viktor saw her smile. Small as the change was, it transformed her features. The tension held in her shoulders seemed to dwindle.

With a sigh, she looked down at the letter between them. “What am I going to do?”

Somewhat relieved, Viktor leaned back and fixed a contemplative look on his face. “First, you vill drink coffee. Then you vill send letter to Harry. You vill tell him to stop being ass. Then, I vill show him meaning of being good boyfriend, if he is not listening to you.”

Ginny raised a single red-brown eyebrow. “And how would you do that exactly?”

Viktor’s lips curved mischievously. “Perhaps I vould buy you flowers, and take you to dinner. Then I vould arrange trip to romantic city.” He paused briefly for emphasis, “I vould remind him that beautiful and talented girlfriends are deserving attentive lovers.”

Ginny flushed, which was much the reaction that he had been hoping for. Then a laugh bubbled up to her lips. She shook her head slowly, her eyes once again dipping down to focus on the tabletop. “Sometimes, Viktor, I wish I really was dating you.”

Later that evening, as he left a newly sobered Ginny outside the door to her apartment, Viktor received a hug and a brief kiss on his cheek for his troubles. For a moment, as they embraced, he thought he felt her arms linger around him. It was over quickly, but when she pulled away, he noticed that painted on her features was a curious, almost reluctant look. It was only as her apartment door closed that Viktor realised it was a mirror of the one he was wearing.

END