"Hermione? What does this say?" Ron asked tentatively, pointing to an unclear mess of scribbles labeled "History of Magic Notes".
"Hmm. It seems to say...why would you put forth so much effort to copy my notes oh so stealthily by not looking down at your so called notes to see if they are even legible when you could have easily just taken notes and paid the smallest amount of attention to what the professor said."
Harry smiled to himself and leaned over to read the mass of random pencil strokes. He looked upon the paper with an extreme feigned focus. "It could also say 'I am about to wiggle my hips at a boy named Parker'."
"It's one or the other, for sure." She said in a bored, flat tone.
"Up to you, man." Harry smacked Ron on the back encouragingly, the way boys do when they wish each other good luck.
"Gee, thanks."
The three of them sat in the Gryffindor common room together. Harry and Hermione took up the couch with their bodies and school supplies. Ron leaned sideways against the couch in between them.
Hermione's eyes whipped up to meet the sound of a sharp pecking at the window. Through the thick glass, she could see a familiar brown and white specked eagle owl. She stood to open the left side of the window, and the bird flew inside, it's large wings flapping awkwardly through the narrow window frame.
"Hey there, little buddy."
She refused to call him by his official name. It's owner, in his stereotypically egotistical way, had named him Little Draco. Every time she remembered the cute little bird's name, she would blush a little. When they had first purchased the little owl, Draco had just turned thirteen, and Hermione was almost there. He had made an extremely crude joke about the "other little Draco," and then added that it was "anything but little." At the time, the joke had mortified Hermione to the shade of a tomato. Now she could control her emotions a little better.
She unwrapped the note and read the fancifully written words scrawled on the scrap piece of parchment.
Find me in the Great Hall. The other schools are coming.
-Draco
There was a noticeable ink stain where Draco had furiously scratched out what he had written before his name.
"I'm going to the Great Hall. Do you guys want to come?"
"Why?" Ron eyed the familiar bird and scowled. "What's he want now?"
"The other schools are arriving apparently. You know, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons."
"Yeah, and why would we want to see them?" Ron asked in a sulking tone.
Hermione took a deep breath. Time to bring out the big guns, she thought.
"Viktor Krum is a seventh year at Durmstrang Institute of Magic."
Ron nearly knocked over the couch in a speedy attempt to stand up. "Krum? Viktor Krum? Why didn't you say so?"
"I did say so. About ten seconds ago."
"Oh my God, I can believe it! Do you think we could play Quidditch with him?"
He sounded just like Draco. "I don't know, do you want to join me or not?"
"Well, yeah!"
"Harry?"
"Sure, why not?" Harry scratched the back of his neck and stood up, shrugging.
"We're gonna meet Viktor Krum, mate." Ron whispered to him on the way out.
[Great Hall]
The Great Hall was buzzing with excitement when they walked in. Hermione began to make her way to the table on the far right.
"Where are we going?" Ron asked.
"I'm going to say hi to Draco." She mumbled back.
Ron's groan was loud and annoying. She turned to look at him. "And if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all." He simply rolled his eyes in response.
She spotted Draco now, and the blonde quickly stood up from the table to meet them.
"Granger. Hey." He gave her a small smile that she returned almost immediately.
"She has a name you know." Ron said harshly. Harry gave him a "Don't push it" sort of look.
Draco completely ignored him and continued to stare at Hermione. "You look nice today." He said with a smile. "Y-your hair. I like it. Looks good." He nodded awkwardly.
"O-Oh, yeah, thanks. I erm, I brushed it so..."
"Yeah it, it looks good."
"Thanks." His silver eyes searched the room for another subject to discuss, but found nothing. Despite his usual calm and cool disposition, Draco was suddenly very uncomfortable.
"Can we go, Harry?" Ron pouted and gave his best mate a pleading look.
"Er, yeah. I guess." Harry bit his lip and gave Hermione a look that begged permission. A look that she ignored as she continued to watch Draco. "We'll meet you back at the Gryffindor table, Hermione."
Draco frowned a little at this. "Are you going to sit with them?"
"I think I have to...I mean I usually eat breakfast with you, so you know, it's only fair..."
He nodded. "Well...they should be here soon, so...you should probably go get a good seat."
She nodded in understanding and turned to leave, but just before she did, he grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a strong hug. When they parted, Draco was looking awkwardly at his feet.
"See ya." He mumbled before sitting down.
-
"Good afternoon, all." Dumbledore's voice boomed around the Great Hall. "I am pleased to inform you that, as most of you should be expecting, Hogwarts will be playing host to two very different schools this year. With them, you will share classes, eat your meals, spend your time, and you will be advised to offer any available help to them. Now, it gives me great pleasure to introduce...the lovely ladies of Beauxbatons."
The large doors at the end of the hall burst open. About fifty or so fairy-looking creatures burst in, dancing around gracefully in their sparkly blue uniforms. Just as they were hypnotized by veelas at the world cup, Harry and Ron looked mesmerized at the sight of them. She suddenly had the urge to see how Draco reacted to them. Turning her head to the right, she caught sight of him craning his neck as high as it could go. A pang of jealousy and disbelief ran through her. She supposed she hadn't expected him to be entirely unfocused, but at the same time, she hadn't expected him to be so eager. At the world cup he had not taken any notice of the veela. In fact, the one girl that had distracted him from them was Hermione herself. It was a strangely rewarding concept, she had found.
They sat in separate boxes, one next to the other. All throughout the beginning ceremonies, they had been sneaking glances and smiles at each other. It had been thrilling for some reason. Perhaps it was the forbidden feeling, but it had been more than fun. In his booth had been his mum, who had no idea that Draco and I had ever spoken, and in hers were the Weasleys who refused to accept him as a human being, all except for Ginny. Ginny had learned to trust him in her first year at Hogwarts. When the veela had come out, he had sent her a quick smile that she returned, along with the shaping of her hands into a heart. She had meant it as a joke, seeing as his mum would have climbed over and into her box to strangle her, had she seen it. His eyes had widened for a second before his smile grew bigger. He must have thought that his mother could have seen it because he had looked utterly shocked.
Now, his eyes eagerly trailed the older girls of the other school as they danced. When they reached the end of the hall, a large woman who Hermione assumed must have been Madame Olympe Maxime made her grand entrance. She walked up the middle aisle, casting judgmental glances in every witch and wizard's direction.
"Welcome, Madame Maxime." Dumbledore said with a genuine smile. "You look lovely as always."
"How kind of you, Albus. Take me to my seat, please." She said in a graceful French accent.
"Of course, this way." He pointed her in the direction of a delicate looking chair.
"And now," Dumbledore began again. "Let's give a warm welcome to...the sons of Durmstrang."
When the door swung open once more, the welcome was far from warm. Two columns of intimidating young men marched in. They move forward in a synchronized motion of stomping, screaming a droning chant, and running to the other end of the hall. Hermione's mind was rid of all things Draco and veelas as the men ran ahead of her. She had to admit that these men were attractive, or at least most of them. Their bodies were covered in muscle, and they all had the same short haircut and no facial hair. The only person that stood out at all was the man that followed behind them. He walked forward with a bored expression. The coat he wore was a tad extravagant for the weather they had in England, but all criticisms were lost on her when his eyes glanced at the Gryffindor table. His eyes met those of many of the girls around her until they fell on hers. She stared back with the same intensity that his black eyes had.
And about one second after that, she had yet another close shave with death.
He smirked at her. At. Her. He smirked. At her. Viktor Krum. Smirked at Hermione Granger.
She now understood why Ron constantly babbled on about celebrities like Viktor Krum. Normally, these sort of reactions would be beneath her, but there was just something about it that had thrilled her.
Harry tapped her on the shoulder softly. "You okay there?" He smiled a little and she wondered for a moment how that had looked to everyone else.
"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
"You looked kinda scared there for a minute."
"Scared? Not scared, why do I look scared?"
"I don't know, you just looked a little shocked. Actually you look a little like Ron." She turned to look at Ron who's eyes were wide, mouth was open, and was smiling like a git.
"Please tell me you're joking." She begged.
"Alright, exaggerating yes, joking no."
"Whatever." She said frustrated. "Just listen."
When they turned to hear Dumbledore's words, he was once again explaining the rules of the Triwizard Tournament, as he had done on the first day of term. Watching Draco, she saw as his face fell again when they mentioned the age rule.
No, Draco, she wanted to say to him, they haven't changed the rules to allow fourth years.
When the Goblet of Fire was unveiled, several oohs and ahhs echoed around the great hall. "Now." Dumbledore began to say. "Tonight we will begin a very delicate process. If you are of the age of seventeen, you may put your name in the Goblet of Fire to be chosen as school champion. It is not required in any way, shape, or form, and remember...if chosen, you stand alone."
An ominous silence enveloped the crowd before Dumbledore returned to his cheerful self once more. "So let's eat! Remember, mingling is highly encouraged. Mingle among schools, houses, ages, genders, and races." With a happy snap of his fingers, food filled the plates before us.
Without saying a word, Hermione silently slipped out of the bench and made her way to the Slytherin table while Harry and Ron began to devour the food.
"Come to join us, Granger?" Malfoy asked with a fork in his hand, poised to eat the delicious looking pasta in front of him. She appreciated the fork, which unlike Ron's was actually being used at the appropriate time. The last time she remembered Ron using a fork was when he put mashed potatoes on the butt of the fork and hit the other end, catapulting the mushy substance towards Seamus.
"Well, you guys seem to have better manners than some Gryffindors." She waved to Draco's ever existent retinue of friends who had by now grown used to her.
"Very true, I assume the weasel has abandoned all sense of dignity and decided to go swimming in the gravy bowl?"
"Draco...be nice." She warned him as she sat down next to him.
"Okay, okay, sorry." She knew he didn't mean it, but accepted the gesture.
In the middle of their meal, she heard a deep voice ask from above, "Is dis seat taken?" Viktor Krum's broken English silenced everyone in the vicinity.
"N-no. It's yours." Draco and I both said at the same time.
"Thank you."
Before Krum could take a seat, Draco stood up clumsily. "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. And this is Hermione Granger."
Viktor Krum gave her another intense glare followed by a small smile. He turned back to Draco. "Ma-foy? I know zeh name."
"Do you?" The two men sat down now.
"Ja." Hermione recognized the foreign word as a yes. "Your fazher. He is a bastard." Krum said in blunt, forced English.
"Was," Draco corrected, "A bastard."
"He ez bastard no more?"
"He is alive no more."
"Ah. Good."
Hermione swallowed the drink she had in her hand before protesting. "Well its not exactly a good thing, someone in his family died."
"True. Vhatever you say, Herm..."His lips struggled to form the word he thought he knew.
"Hermione." She said.
"Herm-own-nee."
"HerMIone."
"Hirmeenee?"
"HermioNE."
"Hermeeohny?"
"Her. Mio. Ne."
"Herm-own-ninny?"
"Close enough." She smiled at him and he gave her a small, slightly goofy smile back.
"So, Vik-" Draco was cut off by Krum's words.
"You're very pretty, Herm-own-ninny." He said bluntly.
"O-oh. Th-thank you." Hermione began to fiddle with her hair and a blush covered her face.
"Y'know, I'm a fairly g-" Draco was once again cut off.
"Do you vatch Quidditch?"
"Yes, I do. Actually, I was at the world cup."
"You vere?"
"Yes, you were amazing. You're an incredible Quidditch player."
"He didn't ev-" Draco attempted once more.
"Do you play Quidditch?"
"No, I don't think I'd ever be good at it. Heights aren't exactly my best friend."
"I could show you."
"Oh trust me, she's right. I've tr-" Draco was getting angry now. This time, she cut him off.
"It might be worth a shot." She said with a shrug.
"So...you two...are not lovers...Ja?"
Draco answered for them. "No, not lovers. Just very close, good friends. She's probably my best friend. And, and vice versa. There's er, there's really nothing better than friendship. In fact probably half of my good memories are with her. A-and you know, same for her. We're friends. Really, really good friends. Nothing, no one will change that... Which is good. You know, just good to...to know. You should know. Because I know, and she knows. Most people know." He nodded awkwardly. It had probably been the most awkward sentence she had ever heard him say, and Viktor looked completely confused.
"I am sorry...my eenglish is not very good...vhat vas zat?"
"We're friends." He emphasized again. "Just...just er, yeah."
"Ja. Perhaps Herm-own-ninny and I can become friends as vell?"
Ah yes, Viktor is here to ruin everyone's day :D however for those of you who hate him with a passion, Im sorry but I will not be killing him off, or making him any more of a jerk than he supposedly is. Nor will I make him abusive or a death eater (just trying to cover all the stereotypes here lol) he will not be so repulsive that Hermione has no choice but to love Draco. She's gonna love Draco cuz hes MR. PRETTY DRACO :D. to me, viktor krum has always just been a Russian forest gump. That's how I see him XD even though he's not actually Russian. Go with it.