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Hermione was thoroughly regretting her decision to allow Harry and Ron to drag her along to the Quidditch World Cup. The first one she went to back in fourth year was fun, but terrifying by the end and she’d resolved never to attend one again.
But here she was, weaving her way through the concourse to get to the box Harry and Ron had procured. Bulgaria was playing Canada and frankly, Hermione could care less about either of these teams. Except, of course, Viktor Krum was still playing as Seeker for Bulgaria. She and Viktor had lost contact the year before the war. Hermione had been busy pining over Ron and Viktor had been busy playing Quidditch. Hermione was embarrassed to even admit that she hadn’t followed Viktor’s career, although Harry and Ron had assumed she was, hence the invite today.
She swore silently as she climbed the hundreds of stairs up to the box Ron and Harry had procured seats in. She didn’t even know why she was bothering, but a small frission of excitement as seeing Viktor again flipped through her belly. She probably wouldn’t even see him, but still, she couldn’t help but hope, even if just a little.
Finally, Hermione made it to the box and opened to doors to find that neither Harry nor Ron were even here yet. Wonderful. She’d have to make small talk with, she closed her eyes and sighed. She was in the Ministry’s box, why hadn’t she realized?
“Hermione! Good to see you!” Shacklebolt boomed as he strode across the box and shook her hand. “So glad you could make it! Harry said he wasn’t sure the last time I spoke with him.”
“Ah, yes, I wasn’t sure myself actually,” Hermione smiled tightly. She liked Kingsley, but he had become more and more of a politician in the last few years and every conversation she had with him had her wishing she could wash her hands afterward.
“Well, glad you could be here. Have you met the Minister of Canada yet?” Kingsley placed his arm around Hermione’s shoulders and led her toward a tall, reedy looking man. At least, he looked kind. The Canadian Minister was, of course, in talks with the Bulgarian Minister.
“I hear you know our Seeker, Miss Granger,” the Bulgarian Minister smiled down at her. It looked lecherous, but Hermione hoped that was just her imagination.
“Yes, Viktor and I met when he was in the Triwizard Tournament back in ‘94. I’m afraid, we haven’t kept in touch over the years.”
“Ah, yes, I remember now,” the Canadian Minister said. “You were involved with him weren’t you?”
Hermione reddened. This was so embarrassing. “Briefly,” Hermione said, not bothering to smile at all. “If you’ll excuse me,” Hermione muttered and escaped the circle of politicians, hoping that Harry or Ron would show up soon.
Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Ron barrelled through the door, Harry on his heels.
“Merlin, we’re glad to see you!” Ron said, throwing his arm around Hermione’s shoulders. “We thought for sure we’d miss the start.” He led her down toward their seats in the front row of the box and Hermione was happy to be sitting between the two of them. Between them, they fended off anyone who bothered to attempt to speak with her.
Somehow, as the female third of the ‘Golden Trio’, she attracted by far the most attention from the public. Either because she was determined to be an easy mark or just because she was a witch, Hermione wasn’t sure. The result had her often, holding back hexes as people asked impertinent question after impertinent question. Harry and Ron were good bodyguards against that kind of thing though, and Hermione was thankful that they acted in that stead without her having to ask.
The third time the Bulgarian Minister attempted to draw her into a conversation, Harry finally spoke up.
“Minister, we’re trying to watch the game, yeah?” Harry said with a note of finality in his voice and a glare in Kingsley’s direction. Hermione hunched forward in her seat as Harry put his arm around the back of it.
“Don’t worry about him,” Harry whispered to her. “He’s just jealous that he’s never met Krum.”
Hermione snorted into her drink and leaned into Harry’s side as a silent thank you.
The game was exciting, with both sides scoring almost evenly back and forth. Hermione tried to keep up, but since she didn’t follow Quidditch, some of it was just over her head.
Finally, about an hour and a half into the game, Krum spiraled high out of the top of the stadium. Harry and Ron pulled Hermione to her feet as they watched with bated breath. Krum’s form got smaller and smaller. Even the Chasers stopped for a moment, as they watched the Canadian Seeker streak after Krum.
The announcer shouted about spotting the snitch and a moment later, Krum was doing a victory lap with the snitch firmly in his hand.
“Krum’s done it again!” the announcer screamed. Harry and Ron were cheering and clapping wildly next to Hermione.
“KRUM! KRUM! KRUM!” the entire stadium was shouting in unison. Hermione was pleased for her old friend and clapped enthusiastically. She was happier that the match was over relatively quickly and she could have an excuse to leave early. No doubt the Ministery box would soon be overwhelmed with players. Perhaps during the chaos, she could slip out.
The Bulgarian Minister was beaming, flexing his suspenders and looking just the picture of someone who was sure of himself. The Canadian Minister was shaking hands morosely.
“Bet you're interested in seeing your old boyfriend again now,” the Bulgarian Minister boomed over the crowd, looking directly at Hermione.
Hermione blanched as everyone in the box turned to look at her. Luckily, at just the same moment, the Bulgarian and Canadian teams swept through the door. The Canadians were grinning, despite their defeat. Viktor led the pack, and with all eyes on Hermione, he saw her first.
“Hermione!” he shouted as he hurried across the box toward where she was standing with Harry and Ron.
“Harry! Ron!” Viktor shook each of their hands, before wrapping Hermione in a huge bear hug and twirling her around.
“Viktor! It’s good to see you!” Hermione laughed as he set her back on her feet.
“You are looking very good,” Viktor grinned down at her. She blushed and had to agree. She’d forgotten how good Viktor looked in his Quidditch kit. He was looking very fit indeed.
“You as well,” Hermione grinned. Viktor’s hands were still around her waist and that was the moment the Bulgarian Minister chose to interrupt.
“Ah, Krum! Well done! Well done, indeed! And you’ve met your old friends, eh?” the Minister winked. Hermione was barely able to keep her lip from curling into a sneer.
“Minister Kirov, good to see you, sir,” Viktor said, shaking the Minister’s hand. Hermione was impressed at how well his English had improved over the years. And the way he played the game with the Minister, leading him away from her. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“We should go while they are busy with the teams,” she muttered to Ron.
“Don’t you want to see Krum?” Ron asked. He had a hand on her lower back as she edged between the crowd and the wall.
“I’ve seen him,” Hermione said. “It’s fine.”
Ron nodded at Harry over Hermione’s head and Harry broke off from their group while Hermione found the door and escaped into the hallway. For the first time in two hours, she took a deep breath. She hated people like the Bulgarian Minister. Even Kingsley was too much most days. Why they treated her differently than Harry and Ron, she couldn’t fathom. Or rather, she could. It was the same way that the Muggle press treated famous actresses differently than they did actors. Plain old sexism. It was frustrating though. Hermione didn’t have all the press people that famous actresses had. She just had to navigate the waters on her own and it was exhausting.
“Come on,” Harry said from behind her. “Krum’s going to meet us downstairs.”
“Downstairs?” Hermione asked.
“I figured you would want to catch up without an audience,” Harry grinned.
“Harry!” Hermione was completely taken aback at his thoughtfulness.
“Had to do something as a thank you for coming along with us,” Ron said, bumping his shoulder into hers.
“I don’t know what I would do without you two,” Hermione said. She could feel her cheeks heating in her pleasure and surprise.
“We’re just doing what you’d do for us,” Harry laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “Krum told us to meet him in the Bulgarian locker rooms.”
“And how are we expected to get in there?” Hermione asked.
“I’m Harry Potter, love,” Harry said with a saucy wink. “I have my ways.”
Hermione snorted her laughter as Ron rolled his eyes. The many stairs she had climbed on the way to the box seemed less as they were going down them. She didn’t know if it was because they were going down or if it was the company she had.
Harry was right, they were granted access to the Bulgarian locker rooms with way more ease than Hermione had expected.
Hermione hadn’t been in any sort of Quidditch locker room before, but it looked like about what she expected based on the football locker rooms she’d seen in the Muggle media. There were a few rows of open cubbies that served as lockers, a handful of benches, and back toward one side was a shower room.
“This is it?” Ron asked. “I expected the World Cup locker rooms to be nicer than the ones at Hogwarts. These are practically copies.”
“What’d you expect? Champagne filled tubs? Quidditch groupies?” Harry joked.
“Gross,” Hermione commented absently.
A moment later the door banged open and Viktor came striding through. He greeted them all, but his eyes were clearly for Hermione alone.
“Right, well, we’ll see you later, Hermione!” Harry called as he and Ron headed out the door. Hermione barely heard them. Viktor looked very good in his Quidditch uniform and she was quite impressed with how well he spoke English these days.
“It is so good to see you, Hermione,” Viktor said. “It has been too many years.” He looked her up and down and Hermione felt a little thrill run through her. She hoped he liked what he saw because she found she was quite enamored with what she saw before her.
“It has been too many years,” Hermione agreed and stepped closer to him. “You look really good, Viktor.”
Viktor looked pleased with the compliment and grinned down at her. “Not nearly as good as you do,” he flirted.
Hermione huffed a low laugh under her breath. He was still terrible at flirting, but she didn’t mind. It was endearing. Hermione stepped even closer, slowly, so he could back away if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Instead, he settled his hands on her hips, drawing her even nearer him. She put her hands on her arms to steady herself. Viktor was taller than her, but not nearly as tall as Ron. Hermione appreciated that while she had to tilt her head back to look at him, she didn’t have to crane. Even better, when she stood on her tiptoes to press her lips to his, he barely had to move his head down to meet her halfway.
The kiss was like nothing she had experienced with him as a teenager. Those kisses had been nice, but tentative. This kiss wasn’t tentative in the least. And she wouldn’t describe it as nice, but rather explosive. Suddenly, they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. Viktor had one hand buried in her hair, directing the kiss and the other was pressed against her lower back, pushing her hips into his. Hermione’s hands had found their way to his waist and began pushing up his Quidditch sweater to get at the delicious skin beneath.
Before they could get too invested, the locker room door opened again and the rest of Viktor’s teammates barged in. Hermione was embarrassed and buried her face into Viktor’s chest so she wouldn’t have to face any of them. There was a little catcalling, but Viktor put an end to it rather quickly. He invited Hermione back to his hotel and they left without Viktor even bothering to change. Hermione couldn’t have expected her day to go this way, but she was definitely not complaining.
~Fin~