Chapter Text
“Everyone, shoes on! Get your scarves, Fred be a dear and find my- Ginevra Weasley, find a sweater! You’ll freeze!” Mrs. Weasley fretted.
Harry could hardly hear what she was saying. Everyone was bustling about like mad.
The twins were wrapping themselves in green scarves, Ginny was looking for a sweater, Molly ran to and fro making sure everyone had everything, Bill and Charlie stood right in her way, not paying any mind.
Harry watched Ron fiddle with pocket money, counting obsessively, and Hermione try to unstuck her jacket zipper.
Mr. Weasley stood back with Mr.Diggory,chatting away, while Cedric stood near by and watched the commotion.
“Harry,” Mrs. Weasley called, “be a dear and grab my purse, it’s over by Arthur.”
Harry dutifully rose from his chair, passing Hermione who was groaning in frustration and Ron who just noticed her struggle.
Harry approached the two men, peering around for Mrs. Weasley’s purse. He searched table and started moving things around. He grewmore half hearted when he realized she didn’t set it somewhere obvious.
“-his first born just met his soul mate.” Mr.Diggory’s voice carried from their quiet corner.
Harry paused his search, interest peaked.
“No! Already?” Mr. Weasley gasped.
Harry rarely heard anybody talk about soulmates.
All the Weasleys had to say was it was something to worry about when they’re older, and the lecture everyone had to attend as first years was vague.
Harry couldn't even get a straight answer on what it would look like when someone met theirs.
Fred and George said you shoot fizzling sparks but Professor McGonagall said during the lecture it was just a soft light and couldn’t physically do anything.
The whole thing needled at Harrys mind, swimming to the surface now and then, never with any satisfying answers.
“No, it’s true. The poor kid started glowing at their job in the middle of a rush. You know how the mark is, needs intense feelings to pop up. His father thinks that since the pair of them were at work they must have been under intense stress at the same time and, well. You know.” Mr. Diggory finished.
No.
Harry didn't know.
Mr. Weasley clucked his tongue. “Poor boy. Unfortunate when it happens so publically. Can’t be helped. Did you need something there, Harry?”
Harry jolted.
His ears turned pink and he sheepishly turned to face Mr.Diggory and Mr. Weasley.
“Mrs.Weasley said her purse was over here.” Harry said sheepishly.
From the expressions the men wore, they either didn't notice Harrys eavesdropping or didn't care. He let himself relax an inch.
No incoming lecture or grounding for Harry. Not that the Weasley’s would ever do that, but Harry wasn't too sure about Mr. Diggory.
“Oh, It’s over here I think.” Cedric called. He stepped aside and low and behold, there was the purse, sitting neatly in a chair.
Harry muttered his thanks and moved to grab it.
Cedric moved aside just a touch late, just slow enough that Harry accidentally brushed up against him.
Harry's ears went from pink to red at contact with the handsome boy.
He quickly gathered the purse and high tailed it to Mrs, Weasley, who accepted the thing with a half muttered thanks and marched off to her next task.
By this point the Twins, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were all huddled by the couches, ready to go, nattering about the game.
Harry eagerly joined them.
As he neared the group, he could hear what was clearly Ron fighting for his human rights against his brothers.
“There’s no one like Krum!” Ron insisted, shoulders tense and voice spiked with intensity.
“Krum?” Said Fred in a deep growl. He tilted his head and made a really stupid face.
“Dumb Krum?” Said George, in the same voice, making the same stupid face.
The boys circled Ron doing what appeared to be an impression of a monkey-bird hybrid. They hunched their backs and shoulders, flapping their arms about like owls, grunting and hopping about.
They looked really, really stupid. Maybe even more stupid then the increasingly angry Ron.
Harry wondered if they knew.
“He is like a bird the way he rides the wind! He’s more then an athlete, he’s an artist! Seeing him will just about be the best part of the night!” Ron defended valiantly. He gestured aggressively and with clear passion and his face turned red with frustration.
The harder poor Ron argued for his favorite player, the harder the boys made fun of him.
Fred froze, let out a loud gasp before pretending to stab himself in the heart.
He free fell backwards, only to be caught by George. Fred threw his head back and delicately placed his hand palm up in his forehead.
“Viktor, I love you!” Fred crooned from George’s arms. “Viktor, I doooooo!”
“When we’re apart my heart beats only for youuuu!” George batted his eye lashes, dropping Fred and swooned against Ron.
Fred sqwauked and hit the floor. Ron shoved George off, face growing redder by the second.
Harry laughed, before reconsidering at the fierce look Ron sent him.
Harry’s laugh turned to a cough.
“It will be severely cool seeing him in person.” Harry agreed to keep the peace.
It was true.
Viktor Krum’s steady rise to fame was something Harry and Ron could only read about, and now they were going to see the man in action at the most important game of the year.
“I think you’re in love Ron.” Ginny teased. “I can’t blame you. He’s pretty cute.” Ginny waggled her eyebrows.
Harry snorted and Ron’s face turned to disgust.
“You don’t even appreciate his talent, Ginny!” Ron accused, crossing his arms and scowling.
Ginny just stuck her tongue out at him.
“Is that the grumpy looking one?” Hermione asked innocently.
Ron let out a frustrated groan as the twins burst into laugher.
Hermione's cheeks turned pink.
“You know who’s even cuter?” Ginny whispered conspiratorially, leaning closer to Hermione. She tilted her head towards Cedric, who was now engaged in conversation with Mr. Weasley and his father, and raised her eye brows.
“Oh,” Harry said without thinking. “Yeah.”
Hermione and Ginny’s eyes snapped to attention, necks turned and face similarly painted with disbelief.
“Oh yeah!?” Ginny squawked, eyes lit up at the idea of having something to dangle over Harry’s head for the rest of the night.
Harry gulped.
“Of course you all think he’s cute.” Ron scoffed bitterly, slumping into his chair. “He’s just alright!”
Fred and George, who had been prancing about with their Irish flag, stop their meandering in order to exchange a look.
Fred raised an eyebrow.
George nodded.
They turned to Cedric at the same time, George’s arm slung over Fred’s shoulders.
“OI! CEDRIC!” George called.
“RON SAYS YOU'RE OK!” Fred hollard.
The adult men and Cedric look puzzled at the twins before Cedric gives them a thumbs up.
Fred and George turn to Ron, shit eating grins plastered wide, and mimic the gesture.
Ron glowered at them.
“He’s really lucky. Last year Cho Chang said she had a major crush on him.” Harry intervened before Ron blew up.
Ron shrugged, unwilling to turn his glare away from his dancing brothers. “Cho is ok- she’s fine. Cho is fine.”
Ginny laughed, her arm slung around Hermione. “Jeez,Ron, quite the critic!”
“I’m not critical just practical!” Ron lept to defend himself.
“YOU LOT! WHY ARENT YOUR SHOES ON!” Molly bellowed from behind them.
The group scrambled from their seats to do as she asked.
Soon as their shoes were found, the large group was off to the stands.
The crowd was unlike anything Harry could ever imagine. A sea of unknown faces made it impossible to make out just one person, the screaming of bloodthirsty Quidditch fans drowning out any one cry of devotion.
Everyone was seated, including the minister Cornelius Fudge and the nasty Malfoys, and Ludo Bagman had casted Sonorus to project his voice.
Harry had been dazzled by the bright lights, the dizzying heights of their seats and the booming sounds of adoring fans.
The most impressive thing seemed to be the way the crowd surrounding them turned into a big screen, almost like a jumbo tron.
Charlie explained that no matter where you looked, the surrounding boxes would be projecting a close up image for certain parts of the game.
“You lot can get a close up whenever you like, with those.” Charlie finished, gesturing to the trio’s omnioculars.
Ron was fiddling with his, looking through, despite the fact that everyone could see a close up of the mascots.
The Veela were just as beautiful as promised. If they were any less dreamily perfect, Harry would have crumbled with embarrassment when he tried to climb the rails to get closer.
Hermione tutting did nothing to convince Harry he wasn't in the right on that.
The leprechauns were larger then life with their fireworks and cheer. They were the polar opposites to the ethereal Veela, in a good way. More fun. More likable.
Ludo Bagman began speaking, signalling Harry to pay attention.
“And now ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome- The Bulgaria National Quidditch team! I give you- Dmitriov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaand-“
“KRUM!” The crowd screamed.
The superstar in question came zipping out on him broom, flying like he was born in the air. He did several impressive death defying stunts, showing his skill off to the crowd.
Harry’s eyes were glued and getting bigger by the second.
His flying was everything Harry had read about and more.
Everyone, with the exception of Hermione who was still glued to her program, cheered.
The crowd chanted Krum’s name, over and over, and Harry chanted with them.
Krum’s image filled the jumbo tron and Ludo Bagman began to soeak.
“His first World Cup at seventeen, if you folks here can believe it! The amount of pressure and stress must be intense! Let’s all give him a little encouragement, ey?”
The crowd screams and it seems almost oppressive to Harry.
The noise reminded Harry of a lead blanket: uncomfortable and unhelpful.
Krum seemed to try and bare down the crowds wild cheering. He looked to Harry to be tense on his broom in a way that he wasn’t when he came in.
Anticipation?
Nerves?
Harry was never good at reading others feelings.
Either way, the emotion seemed strong.
It was with that thought, that Harry noticed Krum had started to glow.
“I cannot believe with I am seeing folks!” Ludo Bagman bellowed. “It looks like Krum’s soul mate is in the audience tonight! Let’s all see if we can help find them!”
Harry sat up straight.
The crowd roared.
Harry knew in his bones it was none of his business.
That he ought to be punished for his disgusting display of nosyness.
However.
His head whipped around with everyone elses.
The idea of having a puzzle piece, a tiny nugget of information on the topic of soul mates, itched at Harry and refused to go unscratched.
Harry was never one to let forbidden topics drop.
He spoke Voldemorte’s name out loud and unafraid for Merlin’s sake.
But soulmates being too taboo?
Harry wanted to know more.
Even at Viktor Krum’s expense.
Sorry Viktor Krum.
Everyone in their box started shifting restlessly.
Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Mrs.Weasley grow pale and stare in their direction.
Harry tried to peer around the crowd but between the jumbotron and the soft colored light coming from the box.
His brain paused.
Soft colored light.
From the box?
Harry could hear laughter and cheers coming from the people sitting behind him.
Harry curiously, looked about. Anticipation curled in his gut.
What were the chances Krum’s soulmate was sitting in the same box?
His stomach plummeted when he saw Hermione.
Hermione, bless her heart, was fully unaware she was glowing.
Her nose was still buried in her program.
A quick glance told Harry she was trying to study the rules of Quidditch, something that no matter how hard she tried to memorize always slipped her mind.
Harry’s eyes found Ron’s.
His best friend appeared equally horrified.
Harry’s hands free clamy and it became hard to swallow.
He had never had karmedic intervention so immediate.
The universe just loved to play these kinds of games.
Should he tell her? Try to hide it?
Harry remembered what Mr.Weasley said about how unfortunate it was when you find your soul mate so publicly.
Harry’s stomach clenched and a queasy feeling settled over him.
Harry glanced up at the Jumbotron and paled when he recognized the scene.
It was Hermione, with him and Ron on either side of her.
“No fucking way!” Harry blurted out.
He watched his eyes grow to the size of dinner plates and his mouth drop open.
He jerked his gaze from the jumbotron back to Hermione, then back the jumbotron.
Everyone was too stunned to correct his coarse language.
“So this is Krum’s lady love! Studious, isn’t she?” Ludo chortled. The crowd laughed with him. The noise was something out of a nightmare.
Hae could feel the seats behind him laugh and chuckle. Heat rose up his neck.
Harry was frozen, unable to think of a single helpful thing to do.
Krum seemed in the same predicament, using on his broom, stunned into inaction.
Occasionally the Jumbotron would show the dumbfounded looks of his team mates or other random audience members, but primarily focused on the silent Krum and oblivious Hermione.
“Mione! Her-MIONE!” Ron hissed.
Harry turned to his friend, who started to jab at Hermione’s shoulder.
Harry followed suit, grabbing her and shaking her shoulder frantically, alongside all the Weasleys voices grabbing her attention.
Everyone seemed to have her name leave their lips at the same time.
Hermione startled back into the world around her.
She swatted at Ron and Harry’s hands, a disapproving frown on her lips and eyes crinkled with irritation.
She blinked owlishly at her surroundings, gently placing her program into her lap.
When she finally noticed the Jumbotron she smiled tightly, poorly hiding her annoyance at being interrupted.
“Oh! I see. Look Harry, you’re famous.” Hermione quipped, pointing to Harry’s appearance on the Jumbotron.
The Jumbotron zoomed in on her as soon as the words left her lips.
Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion.
Harry literally felt like he was watching Spider-Man, seeing the green goblin drop Gwen Stacy from the clock tower, gut dropping into an unending well of anticipation and anxiety as she plummeted knowing Spiderman was to late to save her.
“The lady looks up! Congratulations Miss, this must be every girl's dream, being soul mates with the greatest seeker of his generations. Look at the glow on them!” Ludo crowed.
Hermione froze, a look of nervous confusion of her face as she tried to work out what was going on.
Her eyes flitted to and fro before she seemed to figure out that the glow she saw was coming from her.
The noise grew, cheers and laughs overwhelming Harrys ears.
She looked back to the Jumbotron and reality seemed to sink in.
Hermione’s face drained of color.
She looked as though she might be sick.
She stared wide eyed for a moment, before she went towards the floor.
It took fifteen seconds for Harry to understand she was trying to hide.
Unfortunately for her, there was no way she was ever going to be able to actually crawl under her seat.
Ludo Bagman boomed with laughter and the crowd followed his lead.
This was what Harry imagined hell to be like.
He lurched forward and tried to lean over Hermione’s seat, to shield her from the eyes and the laughter.
Harry could see on the screen his efforts were useless.
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! That’s Harry Potter we’re looking at! Looks as if Mr. Krum has some competition!” Ludo Bagman announced.
The crowd laughed and clapped.
Rage welled in Harry’s chest as his face burned.
His hand raised, ready to show Ludo Bagman a finger that expressed Harry’s thoughts sufficiently, when Ron slapped Harry’s hand down before he could.
Finally, finally, after the last five minutes of torture, Ludo Bagman moves on from the debacle.
He thanks the Irish for their patience and tells them they have a tough act to follow.
Harry couldn’t even focus as he began listing the name of the players.
He looked at Hermione, who remained crouched on the floor.
“I have to leave.” She blurted out, arms around her knees and eyes huge.
Harry felt a hand in his should, turned to see Mrs.Weasley. She gently pulled Harry to the side and crouched next to Hermione on the ground.
Charlie came over to guide Harry and Ron away from the pair.
The came to stand by the railings to watch the beginning of the game, which had lost some of its appeal.
Fred and George looked about, eyes narrowed, sending anybody starting their way nasty looks.
The game started and Harry reluctantly looked away from where Hermione and Mrs. Weasley sat.
Mrs.Weasley rubbed a soothing hand down Hermione’s back.
Her eyes had gone misty and red and her face was much more blotchy and red then normal.
Harry pretended not to notice.
There was little a cup of Molly Weasley’s hot coco couldn’t fix in Harry’s mind.
Wrapped in an old wool blanket, sitting by the fire, mug in hand and whip cream melting into his drink, Harry could feel himself being healed from the horror of the attack.
What was a few Death Eaters to gooey marshmallows oozing into a cup of toasty chocolatey goodness, that Harry got all to himself? He could even have seconds if he asked.
The best part was his best friends, also snuggled into warm blankets and circled by the fireplace, got their own mugs too.
Harry doesn’t need therapy.
He has chocolate.
“Thank god for the Death Eaters.” Hermione blurted out.
Peace ruined.
Ron choked on his chocolate.
Harry was faring much better.
He goggled at Hermione, previous sweet treat nirvana broken, by her statement.
Hermione herself looked as though she was surprised she said it.
That’s when Harry noticed. Her arms still shook, her eyes glanced about nervously, and she was hunched in on herself as though expecting an attack.
His mind went to the blood supremacist but even he could figure out from her words that she wasn’t just worried about that.
“What in Merlin’s name are you TALKING about?!” Ron sputtered. “Are you mad? They could have killed someone! AND they ruined the game!”
Hermione scrunched further in on herself.
“I know that! That’s not what I meant! I didn’t mean that!” Hermione’s voice was high and thin with anxiety.
Her hands trembled enough that they were splattered with chocolate drops.
Her sweater and blanket were becoming stained.
“I just. I’m so glad that we got out of there. Before the end of the game. I didn’t want to stay and I was so glad we were leaving, even while I was afraid, is that strange? I couldn’t be there a minute longer.” Hermione rambled.
Harry though he understood what she was saying. He’s felt that way before.
When the walls had blood written on them and everyone whispered he did it.
When the dementors came and he fell from his broom. He would have rathered the ground swallow him whole and never see the light of day again then have to stand there with all the eyes.
Harry wondered why Hermione of all people felt this way.
The memory of what happened before the game slammed into him like a stack of bricks.
“She’s embarrassed about her soul mark.” Harry blurted, as though the god of emotional intelligence struck him with a arrow of brilliance in his time of need.
“Oh!” Ron said. He slurped his chocolate. “I had forgot about that! It’s a shame. We didn’t even get to meet Krum.”
Harry was about to agree when a muffled shriek stopped him.
Harry looked to Hermione, pale with her mouth clamped, and his ears flushed.
“That’s not the point, Ron.” Harry said with a sufficient amount of sincerity.
Hermione groaned.
She set her mug down on the side table to her left, slouched her body, and melted off the arm chair and to the floor like a slug in salt.
Harry and Ron followed her all the way to the floor.
Once there, she cocooned herself into her blanket and moaned in despair.
It was as if she was doing a unflattering Myrtle impression.
Harry glanced at Ron, signaling him to do something.
Ron shrugged his shoulders of if to say what do you want me to do?
Harry, feeling much wiser now that the clouds have parted and the dawning light of recognizing others emotions warmed him, rose an eyebrow, to inform Ronald that Harry had done enough.
Ron scrunched his face and shook his heads, reclining, and continued to slurp his hot coco.
Harry understood that to mean Ron would be of no help.
Harry sighed, the burden of a 14 year old boy trying to comfort a embarrassed 15 year old girl weighing heavily.
“It will be alright, Mione. No one here will say anything.”
Hermione let out another moan.
“That’s the problem!” Hermione wailed. “I have to go back to school! They’ll all have heard about it by then! I’ll be humiliated!”
Hermione sniffled.
Let out a wet gulp.
Sniffled again.
And began to cry in earnest.
Harry’s luck ran out. He no longer was a in a place higher intellect. He wreaked his brain, and then wreaked it again in an attempt to find something suitable to say, only to fall short.
In his desperation, Harry turned to Ron.
His bestfriend, his first friend, the boy who had saved him time and time again, looked away awkwardly and took another loud drink from his cup.
As Hermione sobbed in her blanket cocoon, the only thing Harry could think of to do was send Ron a rather rude gesture in frustration.
Desperate, Harry did the first thing he could think of.
He slid to the floor in a similar fashion, scooted himself over to Hermione, and without leaving his own blanket cocoon, attempted to comfort her.
“It will be fine!” Harry’s voice cracked. “No one will remember. Between the Cup and the attack everyone will be way to busy talking about it to think about the soul mark thing.” Harry set his seekers eyes on Ron. “Right, Ron?”
The glint in Harry’s eyes promised great personal pain if Ron did not comply with this obvious lie.
Ron swallowed.
Hard.
He also slid to the floor, and scooted his way to the other end of Hermione.
“Yeah! Right. Right. Everyone will be so distracted, they won’t even mention you and Krum!” Ron soothed.
Ron was a liar.
And so was Harry.
They were able to board the Hogwarts express with normalcy.
Harry had grinned at a still nervous Hermione as if to say see?
She reluctantly grinned back, clearly not fully believing their luck.
She looked to Ron, who could only offer a OK sign.
She sighed and they made their way onto the train.
She had every right to disbelieve it.
The quiet lulled them into a false sense of security.
As they made their way down the aisles, looking for an empty carriage, a group of older Ravenclaw students made their way down.
As soon as they saw Hermione they burst into giggling. One student began to make kissy faces, causing the rest to laugh harder.
Harry grabbed Hermione's arm and sped past them.
The further down the aisle they were, the more people laughed.
“Did he give you more then his autograph, Granger?” Someone called.
A wave of laughter followed the nasty comment.
Ron isn’t fast enough to stop Harry flipping them off this time.
Hermione made a small funny noise in her throat, like a small frog being stepped on.
The three of them booked it, not stopping until they found an empty carriage.
Harry slammed the door, Ron and Hermione quickly hustling in.
Harry could hear someone’s cry of “She’s so lucky!” right as he slammed the door behind them.
As soon as the door shut, Hermione burst into tears.
Ron and Harry exchanged a panicked look.
Harry could feel dread for what would come bubble in his stomach.
Poor Hermione.