Chapter Text
Yuuri stared at his schedule over breakfast, slack-jawed. It was unmistakable. Right there, in black lettering, he was going to have classes with Slytherin this year. Which meant classes with Viktor Nikiforov. “It looks like we’ll be in herbology and divination together, Yuuri!” Phichit practically squealed as he sauntered over to wear Yuuri sat at the Gryffindor table.
“Good thing too, I’m only taking divination because you begged me to.” Yuuri mumbled as he shoved a slice of toast in his mouth.
“The real question though,” Phichit grinned as he slid into the seat beside Yuuri, “is do you have any classes with Viktor Nikiforov?”
“I presume if he’s taking charms, transfiguration, potions or defence against the dark arts, I’ll have classes with him.” Yuuri muttered, eyes fixed on his schedule.
“All your core classes are with Slytherin! You’re so lucky Yuuri!” Phichit gushed, draping himself over Yuuri to get a look at the Gryffindor’s schedule., his elbow narrowly missed the marmalade. The bell rang; signalling the start of classes for the term. Yuuri sighed and disentangled himself from the rambunctious Hufflepuff. “I’ll see you in herbology! You better tell me everything about Viktor in class!” Phichit called out as Yuuri made his way out of the great hall.
Yuuri’s heart hammered in his chest as he made his way to the third floor for his first defence against the dark arts class of the term. He was still avoiding Yuuko and Takeshi. He went to bed earlier then Takeshi last night and woke up at a frankly unreasonable hour to dodge the awkward encounter he knew was coming. Now it seemed inevitable, Yuuko and Takeshi were both taking defence against the dark arts this year, and he would have to see them. Yuuri picked up speed as he made his way through the busy corridors. Maybe if I get to class early, he thought, I’ll keep my head down and they can make the decision to sit beside me. Yuuri heaved a sigh of relief as he approached the classroom door. He had made it before any of the other Gryffindors. Yuuri made his way into the classroom and gave Professor Celestino a nod as the professor waved at him. He made a beeline for the seat at the back left of the classroom. There was something about sitting there that made him feel calm; he was able to look at everyone but he could avoid everyone else’s eyes. Especially Yuuko and Takeshi’s. He knew he should approach them at some point, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it just yet, he would allow himself another week before he had to deal with that particular situation. Yuuri preoccupied himself with his thoughts, gnawing at his bottom lip.
His reverie was only broken by an audible gasp from the girl sitting in front of him. He jerked his head up and glanced around. Everyone in the class seemed to have frozen in place, all of them gazing up at the door. Yuuri’s eyes followed the collective gaze of his peers. There, at the top of the class, was Viktor Nikiforov in all his glory. In his panic about Yuuko and Takeshi, Yuuri had forgotten that the living legend would be in his classes. Viktor had a small smile gracing his lips as he ambled his way through the desks. Even Professor Celestino was staring. Yuuri felt his cheeks colour as he glanced down to stare at his empty parchment, he didn’t want Viktor to catch him staring. The class began to whisper again, quieter than before, everyone was probably talking about the quidditch god who was now in their presence.
“Excuse me?” Yuuri whipped his head around so hard at the accented voice he thought he had given himself whiplash. Viktor Nikiforov was standing by his desk looking directly at him. “Is this seat taken?” Yuuri found his head shaking and his arms moving his bag off the other side of his desk of their own accord. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was having an aneurism, when Viktor flashed him a smile and flopped down in the seat beside him. Yuuri couldn’t quite comprehend how close he was to his idol, who was currently rummaging through his bag for his quill and parchment. Yuuri could see that his eyes weren’t quite the blue his posters made them out to be, they were slightly greyer. He could see the way Viktor’s eyelashes grazed his face overtime he blinked. He could see a blush colouring his high cheekbones. Yuuri’s own face heated up then when he realised Viktor had probably noticed how intently he was staring at him. Professor Celestino had the courtesy to cough loudly, drawing the attention away from Viktor to the front of class. He rapped his wand on the board and began droning on about nonverbal spells.
Yuuri took notes furiously; the sound of his quill scratching was the only thing preventing him from gazing doe-eyed at the student sitting beside him. As it was, he kept stealing quick glances at his desk mate. Viktor’s bangs fell across his face, obscuring his face from view. Yuuri couldn’t help drinking in every detail, who knows when he’d have this opportunity again. He noticed the way Viktor would push his bangs out of his face every few minutes, noticed the way his brow furrowed ever so slightly, noticed how much slower his notes were going compared to Yuuri’s own. Yuuri, from his position, could see that every so often students would turn around to glance at Viktor. Yuuri could feel their eyes on him also and felt his cheeks heat in response. He knew they were jealous, but he knew the other students were foolish to be jealous. Viktor picked the chair beside him because of the same reasons Yuuri chose it; it was the least visible desk in the classroom. Yuuri's contemplation was broken by a pause in Celestino’s lecture. Yuuri had sat through enough of Celestino’s classes to know that this pause normally comes with a question to check if his students were paying attention.
“Mr Nikiforov, is it?” Viktor stiffened beside him and glanced up at the professor, eyes wide. Yuuri wanted to laugh at the way Professor Celestino phrased his question. Celestino was Yuuri’s head of house and was heavily invested in quidditch; international, national, and at a school level. There was no way that Celestino was unaware of who he had gazing up at him with wide blue eyes. “Can you please explain the advantage of using a nonverbal spell?” Yuuri could feel the tension radiating from Viktor. It was all gone in a millisecond, Yuuri doubted if the tension was even there. Viktor relaxed into his chair and flashed Celestino a grin.
“I am sorry, I am not understanding the question. Could you repeat it please?” Viktor’s accent was heavy, thicker than Yuuri remembered it was at the beginning of class. Viktor nodded as Celestino tried to rephrase the question, but Yuuri could see the way Viktor clenched his quill, tightly enough his knuckles were white.
“If it’s in a duel, your adversary will have no warning as to what type of magic you will be using, which will give you a split second advantage.” Yuuri rushed out breathlessly. He was shocked at himself, not only had he answered a question in class but he had blurted out the answer which he was not asked for and interrupted his favourite professor. Yuuri regretted his actions almost immediately, but then he saw Viktor was staring at him. No, not staring, positively beaming at him.
“Ah, yes, Mr Katsuki, that is correct.” Professor Celestino gave Yuuri a strange look before continuing the lesson. Yuuri glanced sideways at Viktor and flushed when he saw the Slytherin was still gazing at him. He smiled brightly at Yuuri when they made eye contact. Blue met brown and Viktor mouthed a quick thank you and winked. For the second time in less than an hour, Yuuri wondered if he was having a brain aneurism. He scrutinised his parchment as if they were the most interesting thing in the world for the remainder of the class.
After what seemed like a millennia of pointedly ignoring the man beside him, the class was allowed out. Yuuri burst of of his seat, clutching his satchel tightly, and sprinted out of the classroom. He was halfway down the marble staircase when he felt a hand clutch his forearm. Yuuri pivoted and came face to face with Viktor Nikiforov. Viktor’s eyes were bright and he had an easy smile.
“Thank you for your help earlier!” Viktor’s grin seemed impossibly wide, he dropped his hand from Yuuri’s arm and held out his hand. “My name’s Viktor Nikiforov, it’s nice to meet you.” Yuuri could feel the colour rising in his cheeks as he gazed at the outstretched hand.
“I know who you are!” Yuuri blurted out, grasping at the outstretched hand. Viktor let out a small laugh at that.
“I suppose you probably do. Katsuki is it?” Viktor’s voice was soft, his accent was back to the light hint of something foreign at the edges of his words.
“Yuuri Katsuki.”
“Yuuri.” Viktor repeated his name, stretched the vowels out with a charming smile that made Yuuri’s heart pound. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Yuuri, I’ll see you in charms later.” Viktor tuned and sprinted up the stairs, back the way he came, leaving Yuuri alone. Yuuri realised then that everyone on the staircase had paused to stare at their interaction, and it was only when Viktor left that movement returned to the throng of students. Yuuri scampered down the stairs, he could feel his ears burning from the unwanted attention.
Yuuri burst out of the entrance hall into the fresh air of the Hogwarts grounds. He relished in the feeling of the chill air entering his lungs as he sprinted to the herbology greenhouse. His heart was hammering as he entered the greenhouse, from the exertion or his interaction with Viktor, it was anyone’s guess.
“Yuuri! Over here!” Phichit’s familiar voice called out from one of the benches. Yuuri made his way over to the excited student. “You have to be my bench mate this year! What’s wrong?” Phichit’s brows furrowed and his voice was thick with concern as he saw Yuuri’s face, “Are you feeling sick? I can take you to the hospital wing?” Phichit launched himself up to his feet and shoved his palm onto Yuuri’s forehead.
“No, no I’m fine, I’m fine. I just-“ Yuuri stammered as he sunk down onto his bench. “Viktor Nikiforov sat next to me in defence against the dark arts. He sat next to me.” Yuuri was still reeling from the entire ordeal.
“Oh my god! Yuuri are you serious!?” Phichit squeezed his arm so tight it was starting to hurt.
“He sat next to me and then he talked to me after class. Phichit, he knows my name.”
“Oh my god Yuuri. Oh my god! I can’t bel-“ Phichit’s squeal was abruptly cut off by their professor beginning class. Yuuri did not pay attention for the rest of the class. He spent the moments when Professor Karpisek was instructing them in the theory behind pruning Venomous Tentacula thinking back on his entire exchange with Viktor. He spent the practical aspect of the class gushing to Phichit about everything, with Phichit providing appropriate squeals of delight and questioning him about every detail; details Yuuri couldn’t even remember. This strategy resulted in several scratches from the Venomous Tentacula.
Yuuri and Phichit found themselves in the hospital wing; some sort of potion was being rubbed into the several scratches lining Yuuri’s arm. Phichit had one long slash across his shoulder. Professor Karpisek had long since left, muttering under his breath about reckless, irresponsible students. Yuuri winced as the bandage was wrapped around his potion covered gashes.
“I would take a million cuts from a Venomous Tentacula if it meant getting a conversation with Viktor Nikiforov.” Phichit mumbled, breath hitching at every dab of the potion.
“If these were any deeper we could be dead.” Yuuri grumbled as he was hit with a blinding pain in his head. “Excuse me?” The nurse who was now tending to Phichit paused looking up at Yuuri. “Should I be experiencing a headache? I really don’t want to die.” The nurse gave one final dab of the potion to Phichit’s shoulder, causing him to wince. She marched over and removed his glasses and stretched his eye open.
“You’ll be fine, it’s a common side effect.” She handed him his glasses and went back to wrapping Phichit’s shoulder up in a bandage.
Phichit, who still seemed as delighted as he had pre-hospital wing was babbling away to Yuuri about everything and anything related to Viktor. Yuuri had by this point accepted his fate of being stuck in the hospital wing overnight and missing the rest of his classes, and settled back onto his pillows. He fell asleep with a smile, letting Phichit’s prattle on.
In his dreams, he flew.