Hi guys this is a new story I'm starting! I am a HUGE fan of the Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger and have read pretty much every fan fiction on this site in English that has anything to do with the couple and so seeing as I love them so much I though I'd give it a go at writing my own version of their story. I hope you enjoy! Please read and review! Reviews always make me happy, good or bad they are all welcome DISCLAIMER! I own nothing that you recognize it is all Rowling.

Saoirse24 Xx

CHAPTER ONE

Viktor's POV:

It didn't matter how many times he'd played in big arenas the feeling of everyone's eyes on him had never secede to unnerve him, there desperate gazes drilling holes in his body.

As he flew, racing after the tinny golden snitch he pushed the thought of the audience's awed eyes out of his mind and concentrated on his goal.

Catch the snitch!

He weaved in and out of the other players, his teammates shouting encouraging words to him as he past, screaming to go faster whilst the opposing team did all they could to stop him. Flying in swerving patters around the stadium and getting in his way all whilst shouting insults in his direction.

"Побързайте Виктор!" Came a shout from his side and he turned his head at the familiar voice. His coach Ivan Petar, a large man in his early fifties with slightly graying hair and a stern face was bellowing from the top of the stands, his hands white from keeping himself steady as he leaned forward in anticipation.

The game had started of well with the Bulgarians getting the first point but from then on things had gone down hill and his team, the glory of Bulgaria where loosing 110-230. Now the Irish were close to winning but if they could score two more goals before the Irish and Viktor catch the snitch they would win. They just had to actually do it.

Making a sudden turn as the snitch moved further towards the stands Viktor looked to his side again, checking to see how close he'd gotten to the audience when his world stopped.

Two eyes of warm chocolate brown stared back at him, a bush of wild brunet curls framed a face of pure beauty. In all his life Viktor had never seen someone so stunning, so breathtaking, so utterly beautiful and he couldn't help the small gasp that escaped his mouth. He stared, dumbfounded at her. Her perfect smile lightened up the arena, her warm eyes sparkling with joy and excitement.

And then her smile was gone. He beautiful face molding to one of horror. He stared, confused before hearing her chime like voice yell "Watch out!" her small hand stretched in his direction then suddenly there was pain.

A bludger had snuck up on him, smashing into his face so brutally he knew instantly that his nose was broken, blood pouring from his battered face whilst his skin burned madly.

The hit though, however painful had succeeded in dragging him from his daze. Shaking his head in bemusement he gripped his broom tightly and concentrated back on the snitch, feeling a pang in his heart as he left his красавица behind.

A few minutes later after a few more swerves and a few tricky maneuvers the golden snitch was in his hand, the thrill of the flight receding to the back of his mind as the crowd screamed wildly, each side yelling in joy at their accomplishments.

Bulgaria had caught the snitch but the Irish had one by 10 point's, if only he had waited just a while longer…

"Viktor!"

At the sound of his name he turned around his broom, looking down at the ground where the rest of his team now stood, staring wearily back up at him.

"Come down boy!" it was coach Petar, waving his arms and yelling for his attention. Knowing better then to ignore him he pushed his broom down, landing smoothly amongst his teammates.

"Vell done Viktor, you did good." It was Yasen who had spoken. Yasen Desislava was one of the team chasers; a few years older than Viktor and a few inches taller. He was a good friend and the funniest guy on the team; with a natural talent for making people smile he was fantastic to be around, especially after the loss of a game. He had strong features that never secede to make the girls swoon, his forest green eyes and brown, almost back hair and trimmed beard along with his well built frame from all the quidditch training made him the star of many a lady's dreams.

Viktor nodded solemnly in his direction, unable to shake the crushing disappointment, they had been just 20 points off…

"хлапе you can not blame your self, it vas not you fault. So ve did not vin dis time, so vhat? Ve vill vin next year." Ana said stepping forward to wrap her arm gently around his shoulder.

Ana Blagun was in her early twenties, with straight blond waves that fell just past her waist and bright blue eyes she was every mans dream woman. And so of course she was already of the market. The young recently wed mother of one was one of the nicest people Viktor had ever met.

When he had first joined the team Viktor had only been a young fifteen-year-old boy, un-expectantly thrown into the limelight and Ana, being the youngest on the team after him had taken him under her wing. She had become almost like an older sister to him over the years and had long ago taken to calling him cub. It didn't matter how many times he complained that he wasn't that young anymore she insisted in calling him by her given pet name and he had no doubt she'd do so until the day he died.

"She is right Viktor, ve vill vin next time, but for now you should be proud. Vidout your catch ve vould had lost by an embarrassing amount. At least ve can sleep tonight vidout having dat on our minds." He looked toward the coach, who was smiling at him, nodding in agreement with Yasen's statement.

"Vell done Viktor, you did good. Now go get dat face seen to, it looks painful."

He felt himself nod at the coaches' words, having forgotten about the pain from his face from the disappointment but now it was back with a vengeance and he had to bite his lip hard to keep from yelling.

"Yeah it is murder, vere is de medevitch?" he voice came out croaky, as if he had not spoken in weeks, his throat raw and swollen from yelling insults at the Irish for hours on end.

"I know vere it is, me and Boyko can take him." Borislav kaloyan was one of the team's two beaters, the other being his identical twin brother Boyko. Both big and burly 25 years olds with brown curly hair and brown eyes it was almost impossible to tell the difference between the two, however having been on the team and worked so closely with the both of them Viktor had learned how to tell who was who.

Coach only nodded in reply before ordering the rest of the team back to the locker rooms to shower and change.

Turning towards the brothers Viktor did his best to smile but all he could manage was a gruesome looking sneer, the bloody and twisted nose giving him an almost sinister look.

"Man dat is just nasty! Don't do dat, you vill give Boyko nightmares!" Borislav complained, waving his hands in front of his ace in an attempt to shield himself from Viktor's smile.

"Ha more like he vill make you sick you voos." Boyko replied, smiling innocently at his brother when he turned to glare at him, opening his mouth to retort when Viktor interrupted them.

"Guy's! As funny as your arguments are I am in a lot of pain here and vould appreciate a little help finding de nurse." Viktor's tone was snappy, almost harsh but the brothers new he didn't mean it like that. Viktor, though not one to back down from a fight was naturally quite a soft spoken lad under all that bored front he put up in front of the press.

"Sorry mate." They both said in unison, giving him identical sympathetic looks.

Viktor just sighed and pushed between them as he began heading towards the locker room, knowing there would be a medewitch somewhere down the hall from the changing areas.

Hearing the brothers coming up behind him he slowed down and waited for them to catch up, a brother on either side of him as they began to lead the way through the maze of halls and towards the infirmary.

Once they were there the medewitch patched him up and sent him on his way within minutes, giving him a salve for the black eyes that would surely appear in the morning.

Boyko and Borislav were waiting for him and they all headed back to the changing rooms together only to find no one there upon their arrival. The rest of the team had already finished changing and had headed back to the team tent, knowing the boys knew the way back.

The three guys quickly showered and changed, packing away their kits and gathering their stuff before beginning the trek to their tent through the woods and to a deserted field a mile from the stadium.

Outside the place was chaotic, fans screaming and dancing to loud music, parties raging all over the place as people expressed there joy for the out come of the game. Green and red banners waving in the early September breeze.

Making there way through the woods at a fast rate they broke through the trees into the main field were all the tents were placed.

The celebrations were still happening here, bonfires and dancing all over the place. It was a joy to see and Viktor couldn't help but smile at the scene.

He turned to say something to Boyko when something caught his eye. A figure running out of the forest, cloak rapped tightly round his body, with a strange silver mask covering his face…

A cold feeling washed over him as the realization hit him but by the time he had opened his mouth to yell the first tent was in flames. Soon followed by another and another until an entire row of wizarding tents were up in flames.

Screams of terror erupted from every were all at once, people yelling in shock and panic. People came from their tents, curious of the new noise only to rush back Inside a hurry people out, gathering their families in a wild panic before scattering for the portkeys just over the hill.

Beside him he could see Boyko running of to help a young lady with four children and hurry them up the hill, sweeping up three of the weeping children in his large arms and assisting them to the portkey point, yelling at Viktor and Borislav to get back to camp and inform the others what was happening.

Snapping back into reality Viktor grabbed hold of Borislav's arm, tugging across the field in the direction of their camp.

Feeling Borislav begin to follow him he let go of his wrist as they ran side by side, ducking and weaving as spells began to fly all over the place.

They were half way across the field when he got hit. A painful impact to his shoulder made him scream and stumble, falling to the ground just as another spell zoomed over him.

"Viktor!" it was Borislav, kneeling down beside him and attempting to help him up but it seemed he had been hit too, given not as bad as Viktor but his arm still looked pretty bad, the injury causing the man to be unable to help his young friend stand.

"Viktor vhere are you hit?" his voice was panicked, his wild eyes staring into his own in desperation.

"It doesn't matter, just go!" he yelled pushing his friend away just as another spell passed between them.

"Vhat? No! I vill not leave you here!" Borislav was almost begging, his eyes begging Viktor to stand.

"I can not get up, ve do not have time for dis you have to vorn de others now go!" he yelled shoving him again with his good arm so hard he fell backwards.

He stared at him for a few seconds, reading his face before nodding and turning away, running away from Viktor and towards there camp, determined to get there before the large crowd of masked men.

Viktor watched him go until he was out of site, lost in the crowd.

Using his uninjured arm he hauled himself up just enough to drag himself along and behind some bolder at the edge of the clearing. Once he was behind the safety of the large stone wall he leaned against it and took deep breaths, the pain almost making him sick.

He moved his hand to his pocket searching for his wand only to find it empty. The tiny sliver of hope that had been there before quickly died with the realization that he had no was to defend himself…

"Well look what we have here."

With a jolt Viktor's eyes snapped open as he stared down the length of some ones wand. His eyes bugged as he looked at the masked person before him, breathing become unsteady as his terror settled in.

Oh god he was going to die. He still had so much he wanted to do in life, places he wanted to go, people I wanted to meet.

Like his girl, the one from the stands, the one girl he was pretty sure he was already in love and with yet he didn't even know her name.

Now he never would.

The masked man lifted his wand, a satisfied smirk on his face just as a small person, no more than 5f 4 leapt in front of me, blocking me from view of the mad masked man.

Her wand raised and prepared, by the time I had blinked in surprise the man was down, tide and gagged, now unconscious at my savior's feet.

I stared unbelieving at the sight before, raising my eyes to my guardian angel.

It was her. The girls from the stands, her wild hair frizzed and her face taught with barely control anger. Yet I could still see the worry and concern in her eyes that I had wanted to see.

"Are you ok?" she asked, her tone was light and caring as she kneeled in front of him, her soft hands taking one of his.

She really existed, I could touch her, feel her skin against mine and she was real.

My savior, my angel, my love.

Wow! That is a lot of writing for two hours :-D I couldn't stop! Hope you liked it, please review! Also here are the translations for anything I wrote in Bulgarian, my apologies if any are incorrect I got them off of Google translate! Feel free to correct me if you know the correct translation.

(Побързайте Виктор = hurry Viktor), (Красавица = beauty) and (Хлапе = cub)