Words: 5,485

A/N: Hope that you all enjoy the chapter! This one is a bit longer than the last two so I'm sure you guys will like that. Weekly upload for next Friday shouldn't be off schedule but I've been dealing with the preparations for my grandfather's funeral and it's taken its toll. I'm still going strong though and hope you guys are doing good as well! Enjoy.

Chapter iii – Primadonna Draconian

will you be able to tell when the defining moments in your life are happening? will you look back in shock once they've already occured? will you wish they could replay themselves forever or fade away?

Hermione decided to evade the library the day before Halloween since it was the day to submit names into the Goblet of Fire before they were chosen the following day. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she took a front row seat on one of the benches near the Goblet of Fire to casually watch those who have chosen to add their name into the blue fire. Many students from all three schools had stepped up to the challenge, a challenge she hoped they realize will surely test them beyond belief.

Hermione was quite certain that almost every Durmstrang student had submitted their name; she had counted more brown coats than the silky blue of Beauxbatons or the familiar Hogwarts uniforms.

Well that was everyone, everyone but Krum. The one who had been invading her personal, well not that personal, space, her sanctuary, her freedom in the library. She was sure he did not mean to bring along the horde of girls but she thought the he must have carried some decency to know they were not welcome.

Slowly she began to wonder why she had thought about him. Why did he come to mind, why did she know he was the one Durmstrang student who had yet to appear? He was slowly seeping into the cracks of her mind somehow and she had not spoken a single word to him. It felt unnerving.

She looked up to see Fred and George jogging in, the lightbulb in their heads had gone off earlier as they now entered with what they claimed to be an aging potion. Hermione saw this as quite the amateurish move.

"If I were you two I wouldn't be so sure that's going to work." Hermione spoke smartly towards the twins, the roll in her eyes ever the more prominent, "Dumbledore would have thought of that, especially with the use of an age line."

They promptly ignored her and downed the vials in their hands. Stepping over the age line that Dumbledore had drawn himself they quietly cheered. They saved their true celebration after they had deposited the two slips of paper that bore their names into the goblet.

Unfortunately, it had been a short lived victory for the two sixteen year olds as they were hastily shoved back several feet by an invisible force. They rose from the floor sporting wiry, gray beards and wrinkles on their rapidly aging faces.

Hermione watched as they began to tussle back and forth with one another, each blaming the other for what went wrong. She scoffed having known their plan would not have worked to begin with. She hurriedly opened her book while the others began to cheer the Weasley twins on with several chants of Fight, Fight, Fight!

She continued to ignore them in hopes of concentrating better on her reading, she had decided it was time once again to read Matilda. She had read the story far more times than she could count but it never got old for her. It was a quality read for her and each time she read it nothing ever lacked.

Five minutes later Hermione could hear several heavy sets of footsteps. She took the chance to glance up from her book and easily spotted Krum, Karkaroff, and one other Durmstrang student that she did not know the name of, only that he was often seen around the famous quidditch player.

Both Karkaroff and the unknown student hung back as Krum...it was getting weird for Hermione to refer to him as Krum in her mind. She had already known of his name from overhearing others and she felt the need to address him less formally, even if was not to his face, even if he was merely a thought passing through her mind.

Deciding to close her book and set it aside she watched as Viktor looked as if he were on one of the most serious missions of his life as his vision did not stray as he stalked towards the Goblet of Fire. She could see the slip of paper as it went from being clenched in his hands to drop into the fake fire. It did not appear to have wrinkled as far as she could notice.

Hermione did not stay focused on the slip of parchment though, she was more focused with the look Viktor had given her as he completed his task. It was not a demeaning stare, it simply looked as if he was examining her despite the thin line that made up his lips and the directness his eyes which had yet to change since he entered the open room. She could seem him linger a moment as she watched him, a single upward twitch in his lips, before he left the hall.

She found their interaction concerning. Did his stare mean anything? Or was he simply returning the favor? After all she had been watching his move ever since he made his presence in the Great Hall known.

She is not sure how much time has passed but she has finally left feeling unnerved, her bushy hair bouncing back and forth slightly as if in tune with her walk, her book which she had somehow forgotten lay against the stone floor had fallen to the ground. Hermione a group of Durmstrang students who seemed to enter the hall once more but she could have cared less why.

Her head had turned down which caused her to miss the familiar Bulgarian in the middle of the group that she was so closely focused on earlier.

The following night, all Hallow's Eve, she had been slightly anxious to know of who the Goblet of Fire would choose for the tournament's rigorous challenges. Even though there was an inkling for each school of who would be chosen it was still undecided until their names were spit out.

She had been in the library for a good two hours now reading more on the Tri-wizard tournament. She had found half a dozen books, all which featured different content, on the specific subject. She was horrified to learn of all the deaths that had been involved with this very event. Sure the ministry had proclaimed their new rules to make it safer but was that the truth? She was already wary of the ministry but it was not like she had a choice to go against them. Only time would tell how the tournament would end.

Viktor had been in the library before she had gotten there but for how long she did not know. It seemed he had a different book this time but still in what she assumed was Bulgarian. She would have loved to know what he chose to read which was a bit of a nosy habit on her part.

Before she could read further on the rituals of the Tri-Wizard Tournament there was a loud, echoing chime that resounded through the library. She had no doubt it was sounding throughout the entire castle of Hogwarts. It signified that everyone needed to report to the Great Hall to find out who had been picked.

She looked up to see Viktor lost in thought before he too glanced upwards. Their eyes met briefly before he got up from his seat. He looked down as he closed his book, scooting in his chair. He looked back at her but this time she received what seemed to be a very faint smile. The first time she had seen anything like it grace his face.

To Hermione it suited him and it was a pity he did not do it more often, at least in her presence. She looked at him indifferently but quickly changed to that of a pleasant expression. The library had been strangely quiet today despite his appearance. She wondered where those fangirls were at this time but did not further the thought.

"Hi." Hermione had spoken so softly she was not sure he would hear her. She had started on her way out but in order to do she had to pass the Bulgarian who had started walking out as well who followed close by.

"Hello…" He had responded and for a moment she wondered if he had only done so to be nice; these fears were quickly squashed when he continued, "Your name is Hermy…Her-mayo-knee?"

She had stared at him inquisitively, that enunciation of her name having been the first time she heard it. She did not take the mispronunciation to heart though, understanding that English was not his first language.

"Er, yeah and you are Viktor?" She nodded towards him but he scowled. She wanted to laugh but bit back the yearning to.

"No good, eh? Wrong...way to say it. English needs work, I know." This time she could not help but giggle at his frustrations but instead of looking discouraged his face seemed to brighten. She once more held a curious view of him but smiled nonetheless.

"It's alright. Quite the name, isn't it? Yours is lovely by the way." She knew her name had not been something average and had adjusted to so over the years of growing up, "May I ask of what you were reading? You seemed quite into it."

"Just history of home. I read it when homesick. Seems weird I am sure." He had lifted the book previously at his side for her to see the cover more clearly. She could not read the title but the cover art was phenomenal, a brilliant wintry forest that seemed brought to life instead of the dead looking winters Hogwarts brought.

"Not really, it's good to remember your heritage." She spoke in truth and he merely nodded. They had almost reached the Great Hall and they figured they would end their conversation there. Viktor was expected to sit in a specific spot while Hermione wanted to be near her closer friends.

"I hope we speak again soon, dah?" Viktor looked at her expectantly to which she simply nodded to him. This seemed to satisfy him and he clicked the heels of his shoe, bowed, and proceeded to continue into the hall by himself. So formal she thought with a snicker that consumed any of thought of recognizing its familiarity.

She followed suit clutching her book to her chest quickly examining the Hogwarts crowd for Harry and Ron. They caught sight of their bushy haired friend and waved frantically, indicating they had saved a seat to which she was quite grateful for.

She rushed over, slightly breathless from weaving in between other students, mostly Gryffindors, as she finally reached her seat. There was a sense of eagerness in the crowds, one particular goal in mind between everyone and it was to find who the three champion candidates.

Dumbledore did a wondrous job at calming the entire room, everyone's loud, boisterous talking simmered down into complete silence. All eyes were on the goblet as slowly its flames melted into a calming red. Hermione almost felt as if she were in a daze watching it.

And to think, she, Ron, and Harry could watch from the sidelines as the chosen ones competed to the best of their abilities. A normal year for the trio where they would only have the stresses of potions, charms, and doing homework!

"The champion for Durmstrang," Dumbledore's voice spoke loudly as he paused to read the slip of paper, a single named scribbled upon it, "will be Viktor Krum."

The entire room was in somewhat of an uproar, a good one though, as the Durmstrang student stood up from his seat and was acknowledged by her headmaster. He seemed to sport a proud look and she was as well, despite having little communication with him. There was something about the air around him that screamed of humility. He had left immediately afterwards, disappearing out a door near the back of the hall.

Fleur Delacour, from the Beauxbatons Academy, was called next. She was not familiar with her at all but she clapped respectively for her. She rolled her eyes when Ron was cheering just as loud as when Viktor's name was called, if not louder.

The final name to be chosen was, to no surprise, Cedric. She followed suit life before, clapping softly as he went up to receive instruction. Dumbledore was beginning to conclude the ceremony when there seemed to be a sudden change in the atmosphere. She could feel it immediately; the Goblet of Fire was not finished. Its soothing shade blue transformed into an angry, butchering-looking red.

She stared at the goblet in disbelief unsure of what was going on. Through all the texts she read on the event there had been no such occurrence mention as this. Her frowned continued to worsen and worsen as Dumbledore received a final slip of paper.

"Harry Potter."

It was the third of November when Hermione became disheartened. Just that morning the outlook of the day seemed so enthralling and positive despite the aftermath of the Goblet of was concerned for Harry. He had not been well received by most the day after the champions had been chosen. There were many, though, in his own house that had not cared. They were simply excited enough to have someone in Gryffindor competing.

Ron had not been so gracious with his attitude either. He had words with Harry, the night of, which lead to them not speaking. If breakfast had continued to be anything to go by, their friendship was certainly under a lot strain due to this. He had removed himself from the trio's usual spot again and sat off to edge where he conversed with others. Hermione frowned greatly at this. She knew deep down that Harry had not been the one to drop his name into the Goblet of Fire. It was atrocious to think that he wanted more attention despite his reputation with you-know-who.

She wished that Ron could understand that he was acting like a complete arse and realize that Harry was going to need his friends now more than ever. The first task was less than a month away and the only thing Harry had learned was that it designed to test his courage. This left limitless possibilities for Hermione to think of.

It scared her to not know what he was up against, to not be able to offer him a solution. She, without a doubt, did not want her friend to suffer.

Getting through her classes that day seemed like a chore, like a strange impatience that Hermione had never felt. It was not until Mad-Eye Moody's class that she was truly affected. He has started with a discussion on the unforgiveable curses. When he had asked how many there were she had little to no issue speaking that there were, in fact, three unforgiveable curses. He had simply responded with a meager 'good, good' for her correct answer, not that she was expecting more but her mind wandered to what he was up to.

Then he became more passionate, if that were even the right word to use, about the curses. Going on a tirade about how they not only deserved to know their names but to see them in action and to see how they functioned. This struck the first chord within Hermione, as if she were a bird who had its feather plucked unsuspectingly.

When he had asked for the first curse, the Imperius Curse, he performed it on one of the spiders from the jars. She watched as Moody controlled it do what appeared to be humorous things until he abruptly brought the mood in classroom down we he claimed he could force the creature to drown or toss itself out the window.

This shut everyone right up. The feeling in the pit of her stomach got slight worse when he demanded to cast it on every student in the class to show them what they were up against. He made students preform different tasks, showing that the curse made them easily capable of preforming tasks they were not capable of or forcing them to do something they may have no wanted to do.

When it got to Hermione's turn she did not face anything truly daring like acrobatic feats or playing some silly game of charades. Once under the spell she felt unaware, only a thing sliver of consciousness floating around for her. There was a feeling of simplicity for her as she felt herself under the Imperius Curse.

He commanded her to rip a sheet from the book he laid on the table. The voice she heard was entirely different. It came in a soothing, coaxing voice. She felt airy and light as if there were no troubles for her to behold.

Rip it. Rip the page.

She eyed it and had done simply as she was told like it was nothing. Then like that it was lifted, the torn sheet still in her hand as she became fully aware when the fog hovering in her mind lifted.

She frowned deeply at this as she walked back to her desk. There was something about the curse that made her feel dirty? Or disgusted? The fact that she had been made to do something against her will, regardless of what it was, made her inwardly upset.

Once he had finished with the entire class, the spider from earlier was brought back out. She inwardly cringed at the thought of him doing the next curse, the Crutiatus Curse, on anyone. It seemed he already had a level of understanding for the remainder of the class any casting would not be done on the students. Hermione could not understand why he forced the first one on them in the first place.

He had called on Neville and the following actions were what snapped her out of her reverie. She could see his growing uncomfortableness as Moody explained what the second curse was, forcing Neville to watch as the spider contorted viciously in pain.

Her blood boiled, this man must have known what had happened to Neville's parents. He was doing it on purpose and before she knew it her attitude had gotten the best of her. She had only heard rumors of what had happened to his mother and father but this only solidified her belief in them.

"Stop it!" She practically shouted, but her voice cracked into an uneasy whisper. Moody glanced back towards her, staring at her. She had never, not once, felt so uncomfortable in her classes. Even with the way Snape tended to treat Harry, Ron, or her…this felt ridiculous in its own sort.

It seemed to do some good, at least momentarily, as Neville was ushered back to his seat. When Moody asked for the third curse no one dared raise their hand, not even Hermione. The answer came to her mind, the memory from the world cup attached to it.

"Avada Kedavra." It slipped out in reflex but luckily it had been nothing more than a whisper that not even Moody heard. Not a second later the exact same words slipped through his mouth and the spider's life was extinguished before them in an instant. He had said it so irritated, surely upset that no one had answered his question. Or maybe something else had been irking him?

This was the first time she had ever regretted her abundance of knowledge, that she considered it a burden rather than a blessing.

The end of the class could not come soon enough for her. She had lingered to gather her items and books, walking out with just Harry. Neville had been one of the first out of the classroom. She caught sight of him near the bottom of the winding staircase. She could only imagine how he felt after that horrible lesson.

"Neville, are you all right?" Hermione's voice was soothing as she asked him in a gentle voice. It took him a minute to turn around and face her. She frowned.

"I'm…I'm fine…I'm..." He looked horribly confused and quite terribly lost, the light in that was in his eyes now seemed terribly dim.

Before either could continue Moody appeared to be hobbling down the stairs as quick as he could. His fake foot banging against each step as it hit. Hermione simply frowned further and apologized to her friends before vacating the area. She did not think she could handle another look at that man.

She found herself near the shore of the black lake, the makings of what she felt were heavy tears forming. She slumped down onto a large rock, trying to hold back a sob. She was so confused. When had she, Hermione Granger, become so emotional? She was always calm, cool, and collected.

She found it hard to swallow, the lump in her throat was quite thick, but did so anyways. Hermione considered herself lucky that there were not any passing students and she was done with her classes for the day. Pressing the palms of her hands to the sides of her head she let out a frustrated noise. It did not matter, there was no one around to hear her. Or that's what she had believed.

"Her-mayo-knee?" Viktor was walking towards her, something akin to concern gracing his features, until he stopped in front of her.

"O-oh, Viktor," She paused, awkwardly wiping away the forming tears that had congregated around the edge of her eyes, "I didn't see you there, I'm sorry."

"No, no say sorry. Why are you crying? Did someone hurt you?" He had a light blush on his face as he questioned her but was ultimately concerned about Hermione.

"No, no one hurt me. It was class. Moody is…a strange fellow." She was unsure of how to explain herself, especially to someone she had only really conversed to one time. Even so, that one time had been quite pleasant. Could she confide in Viktor so easily? Would he even want to hear her thoughts? She did not have many people that were so willing to listen.

"Very strange, Durmstrang students don't like him. Neit'er do I." Hermione was slightly surprised. Viktor, who always seemed to be choosy with how he spoke, who he spoke to, and how much he spoke, seemed to have no issue responding to her. There was something comforting about that fact.

"You know, you may tell me your t'oughts if you wish. Good listener, lots of practice from home." Viktor spoke again as she had taken a breath instead of responding. She had been staring at the ground for a while but decided to give it a break, choosing to look at him. He tilted his head.

"It's just…something about Moody doesn't sit right with me. At all. He went over the three unforgiveable curses today and he even placed the Imperius Curse on us! He had the nerve to claim that it's what Dumbledore wanted," Hermione felt herself go onto a mini-tangent which often occurred with Ron or Harry present, "And I know we're not supposed to question teachers but I find myself wanting to with him especially after today."

Viktor simply nodded, leaning lower so that he closer to Hermione's eye level. It shocked him inwardly that a place like Hogwarts would allow such a practice, they seemed far different from the customs at Durmstrang. Perhaps there was something shady going through the school's halls. All he knew, though, was what it was like to be under the Imperius Curse and it ultimately was not pleasant in the long run.

"I mean this probably sounds entirely stupid and I know I should be stronger but after today…after the world cup…" She froze when the last bit of info slipped from her mouth. She gazed back at Viktor who was staring back at her, a stare she had been accustomed to after his many visits to the library.

"I know feeling of the Imperius Curse. Is no fun, very unnerving at the end." He mulled over his decision to speak further before deciding so, "Curse dulls you, makes person too easy to betray. Feel too dirty after though. You don't sound stupid, you have own mind and not afraid of it."

Hermione stared at him peculiarly, had she been invading his thoughts too? She did not mention how she too thought it was a strange feeling after it had been lifted.

"World Cup though?" She mentally cursed when it was certain that he heard her earlier statement, "I remember that night as well. Big loss, but more important when Deat' Eaters attacked."

For the second time that day, she had heard something that struck a chord inside her. The accent he had was one she found strikingly familiar despite never hearing someone with it. The way he pronounced Death Eaters …

And then it hit her.

"You're him!" She stared at him in shock, her mouth openly gaping for a moment before she realized she need to close her mouth. It made sense to her now. When he bowed earlier it had seemed quite strange, she had seen other students from his school follow a similar protocol and did not truly question it until now.

"Him? I do not follow." Viktor stared at her strangely, not having caught onto her revelation quite yet, though there was a peculiar glint in his eyes.

"F-From that night, when Death Eater's attacked. You're the one who saved me, aren't you?" Hermione new that he could deny the claim, but if he knew what was best for both of them he would not hide the truth.

"Ah. I see. That is truth..." He looked away for a moment, seemingly confused that he had been recognized not as a quidditch sensation but as the one who had protected her that night, "Voice gave away?"

"Something like that." She was unsure of what to do now, a nagging feeling in the back of her mind wanted to know more but she also was unsure of where the knowledge would lead, "How did you manage to be out in the open like that?"

"Sometime simplest thing fool smartest wizards." He made the motion as if he were putting on a hood and she could not control the laugh that escaped, "I rather be doing something important than hiding out."

"That's a very admirable thing to say." Hermione shared a small smile with Viktor. He simply shrugged in response.

"Just remember, Moody was no good for doing dat to the class. D'ere are better ways of teaching than to do manipulating dings like dat." Viktor seemed very serious about what he spoke. They stood up together in sync.

"I should probably get back to Harry…Thank you Viktor." Hermione was more at peace now than she had been the entire week. It felt refreshing to have someone new listen to her thoughts.

"Dah." Viktor had repeated his exit from the last time they departed, the edges of his shoes knocking together followed by a bow. She swore she saw a lingering smile on his face as he left but she was not sure.

The blush rising on her cheeks at this point was unstoppable and she was very interested to know why he was so formal with her. The boys at Hogwarts never acted in such a way and it caused her to very curious.

The following day, a surprisingly peaceful Friday, Hermione found herself in the library as the sun began to set. She was surprised once more after having identified Viktor's presence in the library. Viktor was faced away from the entrance, head buried in what she assumed was a book. As she walked past different sets of tables and chairs she could not help but peer at the book in hands as she neared his table.

So far he had only brought foreign books to the library and the only reason she was ever able to see the cover was because she learned of his odd reading habit. Whenever Viktor switched the reading the right page he always held up the cover at a 90-degree angle making it easy for others to see. She did not understand why but she knew that she had her own reading quirks and this was simply one of his.

This time, though, she could see clearly from the cover it was a book produced in English. It was her book.

Hermione stopped shortly from his table as she scrutinizing the cover. It took her a moment before she became self-aware; no one else was in the library, always empty on Friday it seemed. Viktor laid the book down and turned around to face her, hand on the back of the chair as he turned.

"Her-mayo-knee, I found your book. Well at least I t'ink it's your book." Hermione almost wanted to giggle when she saw him go cross with frustrated confusion.

"Yes, Matilda is one of my personal books." She responded promptly and proceeded to take a seat next to Viktor when he motioned for her to sit. She had done so with little reluctance this time.

"Was not sure but I remembered you reading this when I walked in to put name in for tournament." Viktor continued on flipping through the book carefully.

"You read some?" Hermione looked to him curiously; she figured he was reading it earlier but perhaps he had only been flipping through the pages like he was doing now.

"Yes, but not much. Very interesting book. Witch not common thing in this book?" Viktor seemed to be earnestly intrigued by the concept of her book's plot. She silently wondered if he had ever read any English fiction but pondered that it was not likely.

"Nope, I assume she's the only one of her kind in the book. Much different from our reality, eh?" She smiled softly, receiving the book from him as he slid it over with a nod.

"I just realized that your fangirls are nowhere to be seen…ditched them or?" Hermione carried on the conversation, her curiosity piqued when Viktor held a smug look.

"Sort of. Durmstrang students like to walk in group. Friends help when I want to go places like library sometimes." Viktor paused, looking off into the distance as if he had heard something. He looked back to Hermione almost as quickly though, his posture relaxed.

"When hats on and heads down t'ey can't tell us apart so easy. Don't see when I slip off from group either. Girls here are...not so smart? Well some are not but not you! You're very smart." Viktor rambled for a moment, something Hermione had not thought him capable of for some reason. She heard him truly laugh in her presence for the first time as well, a deep hearty laugh. It's was an interesting noise she found and for a moment thought herself weird for having thought so. It seemed she had many weird thoughts these days.

"So are the Durmstrang students allowed to visit Hogsmeade?" Hermione questioned him after he had settled down while she absentmindedly fixed her bangs. She had managed to tame her hair just enough for a pony tail but her bangs just refused to cooperate today.

"Dah, friends were talking about it earlier. Tell me what is in this…Hogsmed?" Hermione could see Viktor cringe at his pronunciation but it had not bothered her in the slightest.

"Well there's lots to do in Hogsmeade. They've got The Three Broomsticks, the butterbeer is amazing. Then there's Honeydukes...but Harry and Ron go there more often than I do, there's a lot of sweets. Ah, you and your friends might like Spintwitches. They sell a lot of quidditch things if I remember correctly. Oh! There's this little shop that I just adore because there's such an assortment of quills and…" Hermione trailed off having suddenly felt embarrassed, knowing she really could get carried away couldn't she.

"Oh…I'm rambling aren't I? I'm really sorry about that." Hermione looked away sheepishly, Ron was always ragging on her when she start talking too much regardless of the topic.

"Is fine. I'm happy you wish to share knowledge and interests wid me." Viktor shook his head as if to disagree with her realization. He figured sharing anything and everything you knew could be a good thing.

Hermione's jaw went slightly slack at his comment but she regained her composure almost instantaneously. She had half expected him to agree with her or make some ill-mannered comment.

It took her a moment to fully realize that there were others out there who would not be turned off by how much she knew or even those out there who would share in her thirst to be knowledgeable. Hermione was so accustomed to Ron shrugging her off, regardless of their friendship. This was a pleasant surprise for her.

"That makes me happy to hear Viktor."

As always, thank you for the support, reviews are always welcome! Happy Halloween as well!