Better Be… Hufflepuff - Part Two

Hermione sat at the rickety table on the far side of the Weasley's tent. It was a close thing, but she eventually talked herself out of reaching for the book that was lying - oh so tantalisingly - at the bottom of her bag. She had promised herself that she would be positive, she would be grateful and most of all, she would try her very best to be interested even if she didn't feel that she knew enough even to feign it.

Why anyone had thought that the Quidditch World Cup would hold any appeal for her was anyone's guess, but then again, she considered the alternative, how would it have felt if they had all gone without her? She knew that feeling well enough to know how much it would have hurt. And, in any case, there was plenty that appealed, if she just thought to look for it. Percy had given her some insight into the immense planning that had gone into putting on an event of this scale. He had even promised to show her source materials for the protective ward designs used around the camp. The twins had teased her for nerdiness but standing next to Percy, sheltered by the fierce glare he sent back to his brothers, Hermione hadn't minded their words. Percy's resilience might have done nothing to deter Fred and George, but it did a great deal to inspire her.

Hermione looked up as the huddle of her friends on the other side of the tent began to raise their voices. The debate on who would win that evening had been raging for days, and so far showed no signs of tailing off. Hermione was quite sure that she had never seen the twins be so passionate about anything, which was as depressing as it was fascinating.

You would have thought they would have run out of arguments to have over one match by now. It was, after all, I finite contest with only two possible outcomes, but then again, they had a new face to argue with, as of this morning.

When they had arrived at the Portkey location, after trudging up a dew crested hill before sunrise, they had been met by Cedric Diggory - Hogwart's resident Hufflepuff wonder boy.

For some reason after such a short meeting, Charlie, who Hermione herself had only met that day, had quickly decided that Cedric was 'wicked'. As such, as soon as Amos had made noises about catching up with his ministry colleagues, the older Weasley children had insisted that Cedric tag along with them.

Hermione had been momentarily bent out of shape, but not truly inconvenienced. She couldn't pretend she admired Cedric like she did some of the other Prefects, but she didn't know him well enough to truly dislike him. It was more that his attitude was obviously at odds with her own, and she was already surrounded with enough of that to not desire to add to it any further.

Cedric had a presence; he was just one of those people. He smiled, he was confident and sure of who he was — an amazing feat at only seventeen. But to Hermione, he was a bit... flashy. She didn't like the way he sashayed around the school with the sleeves of his robes pushed up to his elbows and his hair quaffed in some gravity-defyingly ridiculous way that all the other boys tried - almost universally unsuccessfully - to replicate.

"Come on."

Hermione looked up at Ginny regarding her excitedly. Her thoughts on Cedric joining them were much more positive.

"Come where?"

"We are going on a tour of the campsite! Cedric knows where all the best things are, he's been to a couple of these matches before."

"Of course he has," Hermione replied, reluctantly getting to her feet but knowing better than to resist outright. In any case, she was at least a little curious. It was by far the biggest campsite she had ever seen, and there were bound to be more magical elements that she had not considered.

With one last regretful look, she took the book from out of her bag and placed it on the top of the table, ready to claim later.

"I can't believe how good these seats are. You can see EVERYTHING from up here. This is amazing!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and stared directly ahead. Now they were in the stadium they had the distraction of thousands of other people which meant she didn't have to participate in the ongoing conversations. All in all, she was enjoying herself more than she had expected, but Cedric had been driving her bananas for hours, and somehow she had ended up sitting next to him in the minister's box.

She blamed Ginny; her friend had scampered off to try and get closer to Harry and Hermione hadn't noticed, by the time she had trudged to the top of the steps there had only been one seat left, between Cedric and Fred. There was probably a circle of hell that closely resembled her current position. She had tried to encourage Cedric to sit directly next to Fred, but apparently their opposing views on the match had now reached a fever pitch maxing close proximity extremely unwise. In fact, they were now only communicating by exchanging increasingly vicious barbs over the top of her head.

Hermione reached inside her pocket to pull out a sugar-free sweet and watched as the first of the mascots came out. Only moments later, she had to try very hard to keep back from the growing mania when galleons began pouring down from the sky. Unfortunately, moving to avoid a scuffling Fred and George meant getting closer to Cedric, and consequently, not being able to drown out his constant bleating about Viktor Krum. His best friend, fellow badger and one of Hogwarts leading lights.

"... the best Seeker in the world, probably the best player in the world, and he isn't even full time yet…"

"Imagine being that good and still being so bloody cool…"

"I hope he's not too nervous… I told him he would be great. His parents are here. You would love them, they are so ..."

With the vain hope of keeping his mouth occupied for a few precious seconds, Hermione offered Cedric a sweet and nearly sagged in disappointment when he turned it down.

"What a view? Can you believe it, Granger? I can't believe Viktor got me this seat, this is amazing!"

"So you keep saying," Hermione muttered and went back to looking at the pitch and the sea of spectators readying themselves for the match.

Viktor Krum was a person she had often heard discussed since she had joined Hogwarts. The castle was home to a fair few 'fabled' students but unlike so many of them - Harry to name one - Viktor never divided opinion. If you spoke to the boys in her year, his very existence seemed as vital to the wizarding world as Transfiguration, but Hermione had never cared for sport or celebrity. The combination of both in one boy was not enough for her to consider him anything more than the sum of his parts. From what little she knew of him, he didn't seem to be someone who courted fame, and his marks were consistently high.

To Hermione, it was weird for his fellow students to hero-worship someone they vaguely knew, especially the older ones. But then, she didn't count Cedric in that. Irritating as the overzealous Hufflepuff might have been, he genuinely was friends with Viktor. They were inseparable as far as Hermione knew.

As for herself, Hermione couldn't say she knew Viktor well at all. She probably knew less than anyone that might have been at the game or owned one of his posters. She knew him as well she knew any of the upper years. She knew Cedric better, then again, everyone knew Cedric Diggory.

She also knew that she was bloody freezing. Excellent as the view may have been, not that she had much to compare it to, all those steps meant being up in the gods and the wind was wiping around them viciously. Fred, taking a break from stuffing his pockets, noticed her shivering and made to remove his scarf for her but Cedric was suddenly there, interjecting himself and shaking his head.

"No way," he said, crossing his arms.

"What?" Fred and Hermione asked at the same time, together in their confusion.

"Viktor is playing for Bulgaria, Granger," Cedric said as if his rationale was obvious.

"Does it matter?" Hermione replied with a shrug, looking at the heavy scarf still in Fred's outstretched hand with barely concealed longing. "I'm sure he is mature enough not to be mortally offended by a random spectator supporting a different team."

"You are hardly a random spectator, you go to his school, and you're sitting next to me."

Hermione felt the beginnings of a tension headache. "Fred and George have green scarves."

Cedric huffed, and Fred turned away from them, clearly keen to leave them to their disagreement so he could confer with his brother. "Those guys actually support Ireland, so I'll allow it. You don't follow Quidditch at all…"

"You'll allow it?" Hermione asked, incredulously. Just who the bloody hell did he think he was?

"Here," Cedric said, ignoring her indignation. He took off his maroon scarf and hung it loosely around her neck. "That's better."

Hermione looked at Cedric, baffled by his behaviour but before she could challenge him, floodlights further illuminated the pitch. It was time for the players to come out.

Viktor climbed the surprisingly rickety stairs with what felt like the weight of the actual world on his slim shoulders. He knew he should not have expected anything different; every sports pundit imaginable had predicted an Ireland win and yet… he had hoped for better.

Professor Sprout had made the first attempt at curtailing his expectations back when he had first been selected for the team, and he trusted her judgement almost as much of that of his father - but still, he had allowed himself to hope.

Hope, he had learnt over the years, could be a powerful motivator, but when hope died, there was nothing quite like the crushing sensation it left in its wake.

Viktor followed the footsteps of the man in front of him but allowed his head to drop. He was pretty sure his nose was broken, and he was certain his spirit was.

Hope? Hope sucked.

As he moved into the minister's box, Viktor quickly spotted Cedric, and he felt his spirits lift, it was hugely comforting to see a familiar face. His parents were in the box with family and friends of the Bulgaria players, but Viktor had thought Cedric and his father would have been more comfortable sitting with some people they knew.

He took a glance at the line in front of him - players snaking in every direction waiting their turn to shake hands with bigwigs from the British ministry and representatives from various institutions - he stepped to the side to clasp his friend around the shoulders.

"You did it. You played in a World Cup Final!"

Despite himself, Viktor smiled. Cedric just had that effect on him; he always had, right from the day they met when they had barely been big enough to sit on bench seats and reach the tabletop, and couldn't so much as successfully light the end of their wands. Cedric was kind, positive and encouraging. He'd been the first friend Viktor had made following his unwanted journey to British shores and the most faithful friend as it turned out.

"We didn't win," Viktor lamented with a sigh. No matter how much he cared for Cedric and his opinion, he understood that they were very different people. His drives and motivations were distinctive, and he felt pressure and disappointment much more keenly than the exuberant boy in front of him.

"You caught the Snitch," Cedric reminded him with a soft push to his shoulder. "It's not all bad."

Viktor rubbed his hair, wishing he could disappear for a shower and a moment to gather his thoughts rather than standing underneath all of these lights, all of this scrutiny. "I should have allowed it to carry on."

"Bollocks," Cedric began, but whatever else he was going to say was cut off when the short witch that had been standing with her back to them turned and offered him a hesitant smile.

"If you ask me you were right to do what you did. You ended it on your terms. It was noble."

"Granger, only you would choose now to offer an opinion," Cedric said and then mimed tearing at his hair in frustration. "He's an international Quidditch star, Hermione, not a knight of the round table. Honestly," he said as he twisted away from Hermione to look back at Viktor. "I've had to sit with her for the entire game." Cedric's tone was one of fond exasperation, and he gestured at Hermione with a pointed look that Viktor was glad she couldn't see.

Cedric's knowing smirk made Viktor almost glad of the residual blood on his face. He hoped the spattering of claret would be a good cover for the blush he could feel forming on his cheeks, in spite of the brisk wind.

He had made the mistake of telling Cedric he thought she was quite pretty last year and his friend hadn't shut up about it since. He was now considering that such an assessment had been a gross underestimation, but he wasn't about to let his friend know that.

In the final term, the previous year, Cedric had come back to their dorm moaning about 'Granger' after she had made several requests for information that Cedric hadn't known the answer to. Cedric thought she was an interfering know it all, though Viktor suspected it had more to do with Hermione having approached him while he was chatting up Cho Chang, and consequently making him look a bit silly in front of a girl he fancied.

It had been a knee jerk reaction for Viktor at the time, to try and defend her and as soon as he had Cedric had gone on and on about it until Viktor had admitted that he liked her hair, her big brown eyes and the spattering of freckles across her nose.

Viktor had since tried to tell him, several times, that it wasn't a big deal, but Cedric was having none of it. He had pointed out that Viktor had never mentioned any girl, in that sort of way, so it obviously meant something. Viktor had been hard-pressed to persuade him otherwise, mainly because he was right.

He couldn't pinpoint when it was that he had first noticed Hermione Granger, because of her association with Potter and her intellectual aptitude she was one of those people that you just knew. But there had been a time in that last year when he realised he seemed to see her everywhere, in the library, in the great hall, out on the grounds and always with her nose in a book.

He'd never actually been in a situation where he could talk to her before, and here he had just lost a game, a major one, and in their first-ever interaction, she was complimenting him.

"Noble?" he asked, wishing he had something more intelligent to offer than just parroting her own word back at her, but he needed time to recover his wits.

"Better to have dignity in defeat than an undignified win," she offered as if it was a definite statement, but Cedric huffed.

"If you say so, Granger."

The rest of what was said was lost in the hullabaloo of the box. The Weasley twins turned around and offered their congratulatory commiserations, and Viktor accepted their chatter with as much patience as possible. Generally, he thought his English had come along leaps and bounds since he started at Hogwarts, but the twins always managed to make him feel like it was his first day all over again.

Before he knew it, his name was called, and just before he walked away, Cedric leant forward and pressed a hand against his shoulder. "You'll note she's wearing a Bulgaria scarf, I thought you might enjoy that," he said with a broad grin. "I gave her mine when she was going to take one from one of the Weasleys."

"She's an Ireland fan?"

Cedric sighed. "I don't want to pour cold water on your little crush, mate, but she doesn't have a fucking clue about Quidditch."

A picture was taken at that moment, and it was one that would later be printed on sports pages around the world. In it, Viktor Krum gave a short barking - and rather unprecedented - laugh before walking forward to meet officials politely. It was widely regarded as a demonstration of good sporting behaviour, a player that was, as Hermione would have put it, 'dignified in defeat'.

Little did they know, it had nothing at all to do with the game.

A/N: So this is the continuation of the lovely Hogwart's Viktor prompt I received. As that had asked for Vikmione, I thought it would be a good idea for Hermione to pop up in this AU and I wanted to do something that was a reworking of the first meeting in Air. There will be a couple more parts to this one, but if you have any more Hermione x Viktor prompts, please let me know, on here or on Tumblr (Calebski).

Happy New Year All x