Past Present

Harry was pleasantly reminded of third year and of Professor Lupin when he went to Defense Against the Dark Arts these days. The class had become practical once again, and dare he say it, even fun. Of course, the story traveling around the halls of what had happened in the fifth year class for the Slytherins improved his opinion of Viktor's approach to the class about tenfold all by itself. It seems Draco had been conceited enough to volunteer right off, all ready to show off by besting or at least equaling the professor. Not only had Viktor kept his wand and put Draco on the floor, but he had pulled his wand from his hand, disarming him without having to bother casting a spell. When Crabbe and Goyle had insisted they could do better, Viktor had similarly proven them very wrong.

Their own class was currently trying to learn a bit of physical self-defense, practicing on one another when they weren't casting cushioning charms all over the hard stone floors. Right now, the girls in the class were at the front, Hannah Abbott with both hands wrapped around Viktor's wrist loosely, as though she had been handed something she wasn't quite sure how to handle. "Oh, for heaven sake, Miss Abbott, would you just twist my arm already?" Viktor was saying in a slightly exasperated tone, shaking his arm, her fingertips barely touching his wrist.

"But I can't pull you over!" Hannah argued, "You're twice as big as I am!"

"Girls learning how to beat up boys. That's rich! Poor dainty little things," Seamus laughed, up to his usual heckling when the girls were trying to learn some of the physical self defense. Parvati stuck her tongue out at him, but he and Dean only laughed that much harder and Seamus flailed a limp wrist at her and minced around for a few steps.

"Look, you do this properly, you do not need to be bigger. Just get my arm in the right twist, and wherever it goes, I haff to go. Any fool who does not want his arm or his elbow broken is not about to stand there and let you twist it that way without taking a dive. And if he does not take a dive and you break something, he is going to be more worried about that than how big you are. Miss Granger is no bigger than you are and she can throw me..." Viktor argued back, pulling his arm back and planting his hands on his hips.

"But I bet he falls for her," Seamus snickered, a little too loudly.

Viktor stiffened slightly, and Harry and Ron looked at one another, certain he had heard. Actually, Harry was pretty sure he had heard all the other remarks too. "Mister Finnigan, I believe I owe you one. Or two by now. Consider this repayment, then," Viktor said, raising an eyebrow. "Come up here."

"What? Are you going to use me as an example for them?" Seamus asked, trying to look properly ashamed of himself and failing miserably. He squared off with Viktor, looking as though he thoroughly expected to end up on the mat.

"Not me. Miss Granger. Go ahead. Sic 'im. Beat him to a pulp. I am tired of him making fun of the ladies in the class. We go through this every time. Bash his nose in, for all I care," Viktor said lightly, backing off the mat and gesturing between Seamus and Hermione, almost as though making an introduction.

"Seamus doesn't know what he's in for... I'd almost rather face Viktor..." Ron breathed to Harry, stopping to watch. When Viktor wasn't tutoring Harry in Occlumency, he and Hermione were often outside in the warmer afternoons, practicing. "Funny way to spend a date, teaching your girlfriend how to beat you up," Ron had observed one day as they passed the two of them on the way to their own Quidditch practice, practicing in the grass. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Seamus was facedown on the mat, and Hermione seemed to enjoy putting him there and giving his arm an extra vicious twist.

"Enough. Leave his arm on. Remembering your manners from now on, Mister Finnegan? Good. Good thing she's such a dainty, weak little thing or I might be sending you to Madam Pomfrey to haff your arm reattached."