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The Secret Diary of Seamus Finnigan

Viktor Krum just talked to me! He instigated a conversation with me! Not that I'm in love with him or anything, it's just that he's a famous Quidditch player and maybe he can teach me how to become one, so I can be famous too one day. Only I don't really want to be too famous. We could play on the same team, only that he's Bulgarian and I'm Irish.

But anyway, I'm getting off track. I was on the way to Divination when I heard someone behind me. Assuming it would be Dean, who'd lost his textbook, I called out, "Hi!"

Then the mysterious person caught up with me, and there he was! It was Viktor Krum! Not that I even like him or anything, but it was like, wow, he's famous.

Oh wait, I've already said that bit. Just get the picture, no matter what I say, I don't care one iota about Krum. But Krum spoke to me, and he said, "Hi," then he added, "Vot is your name?"

A famous Quidditch player wants to know my name! Now, where was I? Oh yes. So I said my name was Seamus Finnigan. "I'm Viktor Krum," he told me, like he wasn't a world-famous Quidditch star.

"I know," I said, then he looked at me, and suddenly I couldn't think of anything else to say. But it most certainly wasn't the sort of awkward silence you get when you're talking to your crush. We stood there for a few awkward moments before I said, "I'm going to be late for Divination," and turned to leave.

Now I'm sitting in Divination writing. Do you reckon anyone ever actually get any useful information out of astrology charts? I can do tea leaves, coz it's like making pictures out of clouds, and with crystal balls all you can really say is, "um… it's going to be foggy tomorrow", although with Trelawney you can pass anything so long as you predict Harry's death, but I just can't get anything out of astrology.

The lesson's nearly over now – thank God – although we have potions next. I reckon we should always have Divination last, because the incense makes me sleepy.

Oh my God, I actually saw something in a crystal ball. Just as I was leaving Divination, I peered over Trelawney's shoulder into her crystal ball. So anyway, I glanced at Professor Trelawney's crystal ball, as I left, when I thought I saw a glimpse of something plain and fogless. I came closer (Professor Trelawney looked at me a bit strange, but I didn't notice till afterwards), and there it was – clear as day, Viktor Krum was kissing someone. I tried to figure out who it was, but I was seeing them sort of from the back, so I couldn't tell. Whoever it was, they were kind of short, with sandy-blonde hair and – alright, alright, I'm in denial; I know what you're thinking: yes, it was me.

So here was I, standing there looking shocked, and Trelawney said, "Did you have a vision, dear?" and I sort of squeaked and nodded, so she asks me, "What did you see?"

"Nothing." I told her, "Nothing important anyway. It's not going to come true is it? Is it?" I demanded.

"I do believe you have the Inner Eye, dear," Professor Trelawney told me soothingly. "I always saw it in you."

Now, being told I had the Inner Eye was a wee bit much for me, so I gathered up my books and ran.

The Secret Diary of Dean Thomas

Seamus has been acting really bizarre since Divination today. He came running into potions a few minutes late, shaking, and with a fearful look on his face. Snape told him off and took ten points from Gryffindor, then Seamus sat down heavily beside me and said, "I kissed him…"

"Kissed who, Seamus? Kissed a guy?" I asked. "What on Earth are you on about?"

He mumbled something I couldn't hear. "Calm down, Shay," I whispered, "just breathe."

After a few minutes, his breathing slowed and I thought he might be able to tell a comprehensible story. "What happened, Seamus?" I asked cautiously.

"I kissed Krum and Professor Trelawney said I had the Inner Eye. Now shush, Dean, Snape's glaring at us." And he wouldn't tell me any more for the rest of the day.

Seamus kissed Krum? I seem to have missed something here. I know for a fact that Seamus hates Krum with a passion simply because everyone else adores him and Seamus insists that every single one of the Irish players is as good, if not better. Beside, I don't think Seamus is gay. Last I heard, he had a crush on Lavender.

And what has Trelawney got to do with this? It seems to me like Seamus thinks that kissing Krum makes Trelawney think he's got the Inner Eye. I'm completely lost, but then, Seamus is like that sometimes; what makes sense to him doesn't necessarily make sense to everyone else. There'll be something he forgot to tell me.

I wonder who's going to be in the Triwizard Tournament. I've been doing a survey of random people I meet in the corridors. Most people seem to think Krum for Durmstrang, but I've had all manner of answers for Hogwarts, and no-one seems to have any idea who'll be the Beauxbatons champion. I'll have to ask Seamus what he thinks.

Seamus says, for Durmstrang, "Not Krum. Definitely not Krum. Anyone but him. It'll probably be him though."

For Beauxbatons, "That pretty French girl."

"They're all pretty, Seamus," I told him, "and they're all French."

"Yeah, but they're not all girls."

Right, so he's narrowed it down to 50 of the Beauxbatons population. I know who he means, the one Ron's obsessed with.

For Hogwarts, he said, "If Harry was old enough, probably him. Definitely him. He got round the first-years-can't-have-broomsticks rule in first year, so why can't he get round the age rule in this. Besides, that stuff just seems to happen to Harry."

"Na, seriously, Seamus."

"Some wanker from Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Cedric Diggory or someone."

How is it that writing in a diary always seems to strangle anything you want to say and make it sound like the most boring thing that's ever happened? Because, I think I have quite an interesting life, and yet this diary makes it sound like the dullest, most humdrum (who says 'humdrum', anyway?) existence on this planet.

I give up on diaries.

The Secret Diary of Viktor Krum

Remember how I said I was going to find Him and ask him his name, then we were going to kiss? It didn't work like that. I asked him what his name was; he told me it was Seamus Finnigan. No kiss anywhere in that. Oh well. I suppose I couldn't have expected someone so perfect to kiss me. Especially not the moment he met me. But it's a beautiful name. A beautiful name, but it doesn't do him justice. No words can describe his perfection; no name can encompass his beauty. I was right, I thought, as I stood watching him, seeing the way the sunlight glinted off his golden hair. He is perfect, more than that. But how can you be more perfect than perfect? I swear, he's not human. He's come down from Heaven.

I tried to talk to him, but how could I say anything worthy with those beautiful hazel eyes watching me like that? Indeed, how could I say anything at all? Those eyes…like the rest of him. How can anyone be so perfect!

And how can perfection love someone as hopeless as me?