Words: 4,353
A/N: First off, thank you to those who reviewed the first chapter and added the story to the alert list! Means a lot to me that there are already people who are liking the story.
Also, I'm going to switch moody's dark art's class to AFTER the other schools arrive instead of having it near the start of semester. I'm also gonna warn you guys now, this story will probably be a more mellowed version compared to some of the fanfics out there! I hope that you guys will still be interested to read because I do hope(and plan) to bring out emotion and interest but through different ways!
Chapter ii - Rudimentary
are you in awe? are you inspired? are you so far gone that you'll never be the same?
Three days had gone by before Hermione dared to speak of what happened to her the night of the Quidditch World Cup. The truth was that she was scared. The night in question had been quite a rush for her; there simply had been no time for her to weave through her thoughts on what she had been through.
This was the very reason Hermione had sought out most of her knowledge through books. If she busied herself with the words of others then she would not have time for her own. People teased her for her adorations of the written word but she truly did love to read and to be knowledgeable. It was just a coincidence that this allowed her to escape her realities at times.
Hermione preferred to say that she was worried over saying she was scared; Gryffindors were never scared. What did the attack mean for her? Or for Harry? The pulsating green mark in the sky had been no prank, it was the real deal.
She pushed these particular thoughts out of her mind she made her way into the living room where Ginny, Harry, and Ron were at. They were stumped by what she had revealed to them the other night and inherently curious, well Ginny was at least, particularly about who had been there to save her. Ron mostly grumbled at this aspect and she could not fathom the simplest reason why which was starting to bug her.
"Oh Hermione, there you are!" Ginny cheerfully acknowledged her, patting the seat on the couch next to her invitingly. Hermione wasted no time in taking a seat, craning her neck to see what they were working on. Harry caught on to her questioning look right after Ginny.
"Working on last minute supplies for school." Ginny chimed in, linking arms with Hermione. Out of the corner of her eye she had sent Ron a deviously aimed look.
"Er..." Harry's face burned in embarrassment as he tried to find an excuse with no such luck. He raised one hand to scratch the back of his head sheepishly instead.
"You two told me that was done days ago!" Hermione frowned at the two, her arms folded together disapprovingly after she had removed one from Ginny's grasp.
"Well…we were going to and then things just got in the way. What matters is we have all the stuff now, right 'mione?" Ron interjected with a harsh breath, leave it to his sister to rat out him and Harry. He was in no mood to hear one of his friend's lectures. They were leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow and despite the recent events he did not want what was left of his happy mood to be dampened.
Surprisingly enough all he received was a reverberated tsk from Hermione. He was not one to second guess when he was let off easy and made no notion of questioning her sullenness. If need be he would figure out what she was troubled by later.
The journey to Hogwarts was calming to Hermione…at least to a certain extent. It was never a smooth ride, after all it was the Hogwarts Express and as a train there were certainly bumps in the tracks here and there. The cricketing as they progressed through the familiar tracks was so soothing because it kept her attention, she feared if the ride had been too quiet she would digress farther into her thoughts and who knew what was in her mind.
"I'll be back." She said shortly, relieving herself of being in the compartment with Ron and Harry. Just as she left she could see George and Fred slinking to replace her. She walked down the isle till she got to the room Ginny had claimed. She knocked softly before sliding the door which revealed the red-headed girl.
"Hey Ginny," She proceeded to take the empty space beside her friend, "Wasn't Luna supposed to be with you?"
Ginny mumbled slightly, furiously scribbling on some parchment and had continued to do so until she met Hermione's eyes before she realized nothing she said was heard, "Oh."
"I said she went to the bathroom." Ginny repeated and Hermione nodded without another word as if she expected Ginny had something else to say, which turned out to be true, "Are you sure you don't recall who was there with you that night?"
Ginny had pressed the issue only twice before this. She could not fathom how Hermione, who was such a bright, talented witch that possessed what seemed like infinite knowledge, could not remember or recognize one face…or at least latch onto someway she could have indentified him
"I already told you that I didn't get to look at his face and he told me that it wasn't important and I quote 'More important d'at you find friends.'" Hermione tried to replicate how he sounded to her that night but she was sure she butchered it anyways. The only other thing she distinctly remembered was that he fled on a broom, but that hardly did her any good.
"Well he must have had an accent if he sounded like that," Ginny snickered softly during her pause, "He must've been dreamy then!"
It was a lucky break that Hermione had not been drinking anything during this, for if she had it certainly would have gone down her windpipe at Ginny's comment.
"Ginny! This is serious, come on." Hermione tended to forget that Ginny was only thirteen and entering the world where boys where becoming interesting. One day she would learn that they were enough trouble even without the added thought of romance.
"I know, I know but can't we have any fun at all? Is that so bad?" Ginny reasoned with Hermione, her face in an adorable pout. Hermione sighed in response.
"Whatever, have your frilly little thoughts." It was Ginny's turn to snort in response.
"Frilly? Are you serious, who says that?" Ginny retorted and both girls could not help but share a laugh. When Luna walked in on them in the midst of their giggling she did not question it and Hermione never expected her to. They were all weird in their own ways.
Eventually it was time for her girl talk with Ginny to end and for her to change into her dress robes for school. Hermione was quick enough about it and walked back to her original seating with Harry and Ron. It seems she would not have to chastise them this time about taking too long to change, a nice feeling it was for her.
"Did'ya hear George said they might be canceling quidditch this year? It's terrible! They wouldn't do something like that, would they?" Ron moaned in horror, to him and Harry quidditch was quite an important thing. If there was no quidditch what else would they waste their time on.
"Sounds horrible Ron," Hermione snickered, "but if they cancel it, isn't there something to be in place? You heard your father, he said there was going to be something quite interesting this year. Wish he would have told us though."
"True, but still!" Ron countered less enthusiastically. He knew Hermione could have cared less if quidditch was canceled…now if the library was shut down for the entire year he was sure she would have created such an uproar.
Hermione had been particularly excited this year for her room assignment. Through luck of the draw Ginny had been assigned as her roommate, her only roommate. She may or may not have pulled some strings with Professor McGonagall, who had owled her that very summer explaining she felt it would be most beneficial for her to have a separate room especially with her use of the time-turner.
Hermione was understood by the professor to be someone who was mostly to herself when not with Harry or Ron. She was fully prepared to decline the offer but eventually settled on writing a letter that requested for Ginny to be roomed with her instead. As much as the thought of being allowed an entire year to room by herself with no interruptions when she studied it was not practical to her. She realized that having a roommate that she was much closer to would benefit her in the long run.
She had spent enough time unpacking her things, having made sure her room was organized enough for the time being. She was sure it would slowly become cluttered and messy as the year progressed though. Having more than enough for her own desk brought its advantages as well, her own minor collection of muggle books lined it against the wall. Most of the books were well distinguished in the muggle world, like To Kill A Mocking Bird and as ironic as it was, Matilda, but there were certainly a couple she knew were not so popular and highly doubted anyone would recognize if spotted espe
Ginny's things were still neatly tucked away in her trunk and carry-ons in the corner of the room. No doubt she would wait till right before curfew to start fixing up her area to be more homely.
Satisfied for the time being she needed to head down to the Great Hall for supper and, more importantly, the news of what was happening this year. She had an inkling that the rumors of quidditch being ditched that year were not so much rumors and if her gut was anything to go by this meant whatever was happening at the school must be quite important.
It had been just over a month that school had started back up and Hermione felt amazing. She always had an at-home feeling whenever she spent her years at Hogwarts especially in the library. There had been many late nights that she spent in the book filled room.
Normally a stickler for rules, she slowly found herself becoming lenient on staying up. It was far easier with only one roommate but she only did it every now and again. It would do her no good to rearrange her sleeping schedule too late, not with the way classes were progressing.
She remembered when Dumbledore had announced the school and ministry had decided to reinstate the Tri-wizard Tournament. Many of the students were excited for this and for the most part disappointed at the lack of quidditch for the year. Seems the rumors were right for once Hermione had thought at the time.
Today was the day Hogwarts would gain companions from other wizarding schools, guests that would stick around to the very last days of her fourth year. International Magical Cooperation they had called it. It was catchy enough to her; far better than her attempt at S.P.E.W. which Ron referred to as spew far too often. She was itching to cast a good spell on him for it.
There were minimal lessons for the day; in fact she was already finished and surprisingly delighted about it. She hurried down in her jeans and all too used pink jumper. It was common for her to wear it but it was comfortable and that was sensible enough reasoning for her.
In the court yard she had been lucky enough to spot Ron and Harry off the bat. It seems the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were due to arrive at any moment and quite the commotion was growing in wait.
Hermione, sadly, had limited knowledge on both schools but the bit she did have made her wary of the Durmstrang and their supposed proficiency in the dark arts. Deep down she figured they would not have been allowed in the vicinity if they were of any true threat to Hogwarts and its students but that did not stop her from secretly judging them. They would have to prove themselves before her views would ever think to change.
She had been lost in thought as usual when there was a chorus of yells. Already coming in for a landing, she could see a carriage being wildly pulled through the air by what seemed to be flying horses. She equated this to be the Beauxbatons that had stemmed from France. Something about it seemed…delicate? Her thought was not intended to be offensive but simply the truth.
Still she was quite enamored by this way of travel, soaring through the air in the confines of a beautiful carriage must have been wonderful. 'Especially compared to that of a broom' Hermione thought with a shudder, her own experiences with flying on brooms had not proven most successful and she grew timid of them as the years passed through.
Now that the horse-pulled carriage had gone from view she had not bothered chasing further down the walkway to see it again. She had turned to the lake, staring into it with no intent. More so she found herself day dreaming as usual. A habit she truly wished she could break at this point in her life because day dreaming would get her absolutely nowhere.
Staring off into space seemed to have its advantage this time as she could see the start of ripples within the water and for good reason she highly doubted it the was the giant squid who was known to be active at random times.
Hermione squinted slightly as if to concentrate on the rising mast, a slender flag whipping back and forth as if having just coming out the water had no effect on it. It was very casual and careful at first the way the ship rose, only allowing the very tip to show before the entire ship seemingly bobbed upwards.
Her eyes widened at the size of the Durmstrang ship which looked quite ghostly, quite fitting of the October month in which they arrived Hermione had thought. She could see the windows were lit up, glowing with a faint yellow tinge. No doubt the day time had muted the brightness but it was still evident. Since they had surfaced from underneath the water there were so many questions that buzzed around in her mind? She wondered what spells kept the water from leaking in and how far down did they go when they submerged.
She was far more captivated by this method of transportation than the Beauxbatons' carriage, perhaps because there seemed something much less mysterious about it, which she had seen arrive naught five minutes before. In another minute she could see them anchoring next to the recently built dock, many male shaped figures moving about atop the ship at this point. She presumed they were doing some sort of procedure to help the docking process.
It appeared that they were wearing rather large, deep brown colored coats. Despite the location of their school being hidden from public knowledge she presumed it was somewhere far off in a cold, wintry land.
Harry tapped Hermione on the shoulder, she had been far too into her concentration on the ship to notice everyone had begun filing back into the school by teacher request.
"Admiring the view Hermione?" Harry joked towards her, Ron was standing ahead by a few feet looking all too excited on his own.
"Don't let Ron hear you say that, he'd have a fit." Hermione rolled her eyes and both of them caught up with Ron.
The level of excitement in the Great Hall where all the Hogwarts students were located was an absolute mess. So much talk about the tournament, the newly arrived foreign schools, and the upcoming meal all bottled into one room was enough noise to drive a person mad. Luckily enough for Hermione everyone had been quickly silenced by Dumbledore and he made the introductions for each school.
The Beauxbatons had been first, their uniforms still giving off the presentation of daintiness. Their provided introduction did nothing to conflict this thought of hers but she understood well enough that they were a powerful school with excellent students. Hermione knew very well that underestimation could lead to someone's downfall.
It seems she was not the only one in the room that thought of them as "excellent" but perhaps the only one thinking of in relation to their studies. Right now she was sure every boy in Hogwarts was staring in admiration at the girls, Fleur Delacour more specifically. She had heard some boys near her murmuring her name in a way enchanted it made her want to barf.
The students who had been slightly riled up by the newcomers were quickly settled as Hogwart's friends from the North were called in. Their entrance had been much more intimidating as they had practically marched in with the surliest expressions Hermione had ever witnessed. They even had two or three students producing fire which she was sure had instilled some intimidation into some of the other students.
Hermione found herself at a loss for words and thinking if she spoke one of the Durmstrang sons would cast her a dangerous stare. The last bit of those associated with Durmstrang to come in seemed to jokingly remind her of the muggle quote about saving the best for last as she heard Ron speak in an astonished manner.
"It's him...It's Viktor Krum!" Ron had not said a word after that but Hermione's eyes followed Krum as she walked down the aisle. His gait was stiff and commanding with the facial expression to match, though maybe he was indifferent she figured. Regardless his eyes did not waver from looking ahead as he stomped to the front of the Great Hall.
It dawned on her as Ron spoke, he had been the seeker from the quidditch game she had been to a couple months ago.
At first she wondered why a professional player was in a school setting but then she remembered Ron blabbering about how he had just turned eighteen and the youngest player and how was still in school. It seemed that school was Durmstrang. Hermione deemed that this year would be quite exciting awaiting for the rest of it to be played out.
Well into the third week since the arrivals of the foreigners, school at Hogwarts has continued mostly the same but with a bit of added flair and excitement; Hermione expected nothing less. She wanted to check the library for any books on the tournament, she knew absolutely nothing on the subject and it had bugged ever since its announcement.
It was her fourth time in the library that week when she started to notice a developing pattern. Krum had decided to take refuge two tables down from her. It had been three tables down yesterday, and four tables the time before that but it seemed he felt the need to move closer yet again. He had been reading some form of literature she could not make out from so far away but she was sure it was not written in English.
She supposed it was just her brain causing her to be more curious than need be but she could not think of a plausible reason why. Then the giggling started up…again.
Krum's fan club was not that easy to miss. Hermione had seen Krum walking through the school every now and then at random times and, without fail, he was always trailed by growing number of girls. She could hear their overly loud whispers of gossip.
Every time she wished she could tell them to bugger off, that their indecent behavior was truly stupid. She held her tongue and waited till she was in private to snort because she always caught the annoyed look Krum had on his face when they trailed. If they only knew…
While she could tolerate it walking through the halls because their indirect meetings were fleeting, she could not, no, she would not tolerate it in the library for much longer. While they did not join the Bulgarian at the table he chose to sit at they were usually grouped together at a different one or hiding behind the bookshelves.
In that moment Hermione had wanted to walk straight up the pompous looking girl with rosy red cheeks and dirty blonde hair just to tell her that 'You might think bookshelves are meant to hide the dumb looks of infatuated girls who are wasting their time but they're not! They're meant for books and that's it.'
This time she did not have the gall to do so and she was sure her Griffyndor pride would frown at. She was supposed to be brave, sure, but the entire situation seemed tiring. Truthfully she wished he would leave the library and take his legion of mindless girls with him.
During her private-minded spiel Hermione had accidently let a frustrated sigh slip out loud. She promptly stiffened but allowed herself to glance around. It was louder than she wished it would have been and the openness of the library had probably amplified it as well.
Perhaps she could have played it off as her bookwork giving her trouble, she certainly had not turned the page in over ten minutes. The only solution was to bury herself in her book as she knew her potions essay would not get done on its own and to have fretted over other trivial matters was pointless.
But Krum was staring at her quizzically again, not that she had noticed. An awful routine that he had started to develop. At first he had been quite good about keeping his little habit under wraps, sneaking glances at her when he was sure her nose was buried in notes. Lately though he had been more daring as if catching even catching the faintest glimpse of her face would satiate his growing curiosity of her.
She had a particular natural beauty about her. True her hair was on the busy side and her teeth may have been a bit too large but the way her eyes, matching in tone to the richness of sweetened chocolate, lit up when she was in library or talking with her two friends and…well it was refreshingly pleasant for him.
Viktor knew he had no room to judge on looks of course. He was almost positive that if he held no fame from his quidditch endeavors that his popularity would have diminished to something non-existent.
The infatuated girls were surely blinded by his world accomplishments, the less important ones that was, and were too busy to see the true him and what he wanted. His nose was crooked looking, a side-effect from injuries in the sport he loved to play, and the particularly short crew cut Karkaroff had forced him to acquire was certainly unappealing to him though he had minded it less as of late.
Looks were not of utmost importance to him, whether he was the topic of such or if it centered on a girl. Sadly, much of attention surrounding him was not so and with that another scowl graced his troubled face and hunched back.
There he had gone again, off onto a tangent of thoughts that no one else would ever know. He flipped the page of his book absent mindedly. A book on plants. Quite boring he first thought, but he had borrowed the book from a friend who held no questions against him.
Stealing another glance from Hermione's direction, he had overheard her name due to her red-headed friend's boisterous taking, he gazed at the waves of her hair. They suited her.
He had recognized her before he attempted to sit in at the library. She had been that girl from the night his team lost the match, that damned match that he so often tried to forget about. But he could not bring himself to do so, not with her presence burned into his memory from it.
She had been caught in the midst of an attack, perhaps unaware at first of what the attack was meant to do. He knew he had been so at first. Of course they, the team managers, had tried to hide away in fear not that Viktor could blame them. He felt the need to help out, despite being a mini-celebrity, he knew the people in the tents had been caught unaware just as his area had been.
She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time where as he had not.
So no he could not burn the memory, no matter how short it was, of her lying on the ground unconscious. He could not burn the memory of her messy pony tail and fierce eyes from his memory. Or the way she did not flock to him upon learning who he was, the quidditch seeker not the one who had helped her strange night, when he did not dare give his name aloud.
His opinion had changed since then. Now he would certainly be glad to have his name roll off her tongue. He questioned if that would ever happen now especially after overhearing her tell someone 'He's only a quidditch player!'
His gut had told him that he was that quidditch player. It had stung his pride before he got the better of himself. How much did he complain that he wish he could live life as peacefully as he used to? To not be some ploy for fame and money. To not be the object of everyone's false affections. To be a normal wizard who attended Durmstrang.
Here was a girl who did not care to buy into it and what kind of person would be to cast judgement for that.
He had more things to worry about. Like plucking up the actual courage to speak another word to her. It seemed much too intimidating now to speak to a single fifteen-year old girl especially versus the Death Eaters he had faced so very few months ago. He was at a loss.
But not so much of a loss that could not sneak one more glimpse of her before relieving himself of the library to head to dinner. He would talk to her one way or another even if it was the last thing he did.
I promise there will be some moments between Hermione and Viktor in the next chapter but you gotta have build up for that to happen! Thank you for reading this chapter and, as always, reviews and favorites/alerts are very much welcome as well as appreciated. See you in a week!