Dragon's Core

Chapter Eight- The Kiss

Chapter Eight

The Kiss

Corin woke with a heavy head, and an equally heavy heart. She lay next to another body, her fingers curled into their hair. Corin extracted her hand, sitting up she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and cast a look to the very human Professor Lanister. He lay curled in a fetal positon, entirely naked save for the silk shoulder wrap she had layered over him earlier. Corin fought a blush, and adverted her eyes. She rose from the futon, finding both her neck and back stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position –she muffled her groan as she stretched, her limbs popping and cracking. Corin tucked away the empty whiskey bottle into her purse, and made her way up to the door. She eyed the shreds of cloth that had been Professor Lanister’s powder blue robe –knowing that it was his favourite robe, Corin waved her wand absently, and repaired them.

She stepped over the newly folded clothing, and started up the stairs, unsealing the door with a wave of her wand. She found, peeking outside a nearby porthole, that it was still very early in the morning. It was likely she would accidentally wake someone if she ventured into her dormitory –the idea seemed unappealing, considering the way they had been partying the night before.

Instead, Corin ventured out onto the Main Deck –and was surprised to see that she wasn’t the only one awake. She was silent, observing the lofty man as he extended his arm skywards, allowing the owl on his arm to take off. Only when the owl became a distant arc in the sky did Corin approach him. Quietly, as to not disturb the man, Corin took a seat on the deck at his feet.

He turned his alarmingly blank expression down at her, but she merely watched her feet as they dangled over the edge of the boat. He lowered himself beside her, taking the package he had received from the owl and placing it into his lap. The pair remained silent, and Corin found herself looking longingly across the lake.

The Durmstrang grounds housed a lake which Corin would often swim in during this time of the year before the snow fell and the lake froze over. Considering the temperature here was much warmer than Durmstrang was, Corin suspected swimming in this water would be a breeze.

As if noticing her intrigue of the lake, Viktor finally spoke, once more practising his heavily accented English, “The water here is very warm. They call this lake the Black Lake –although formally the Great Lake.” Viktor told her, “I swim every morning.”

Viktor turned his attention to the parcel in his lap. It was a neat white, square box, addressed with numerous Bulgarian stamps, and sealed very tightly. He opened it with ease, and took the object into his hands, running his fingers through the cotton. He passed it on to her. Corin examined the material, and found that it was very familiar.

“Is this my head scarf?” she asked him, unfolding the article. Indeed, as Corin inspected the broboadă, she found the golden trim matching the one she had pressed against his bleeding nose during the Quidditch World Cup.

A light, hardly visible, blush dusted across his cheeks and crooked nose as he nodded. Viktor was quick to turn his head away,attempting to hide his embarrassment.

“I sent it away to be cleaned,” he confessed, “thank you for letting me borrow it.”

Corin was unable to hide her smile and the flush that came to her cheeks after it. Corin tucked it back into the box it had arrived in and stood, shrugging off her button up. Viktor looked at her in utter surprise and she nodded to the pair of swimming trunks he adorned.

“Will you swim with me?” she asked him. Viktor nodded, and shucked off the shirt he wore –Corin, who was far from embarrassed, undid her belt and kicked off her uniformed pants, revealing a set of boxers. She ignored Viktor’s extremely prominent blush, deciding to spare him and keep on the singlet she was wearing –Corin beckoned him forth, and they both stood at the edge of the Main Deck. “First one to the far shoreline and back wins, okay?”