Hufflepuff boy - Cedric Diggory x male oc x Viktor Krum

22

Harry and the others climb to their seats. Flags of all nations ring the stadium and vendors apparate here and there among the crowd, selling their wares.

"Get your Quidditch World Cup programs! Only five Sickles!"

Fancy gold handwriting races repeatedly across a giant blackboard: Gladrags Wizardwear -- London, Paris, Hogsmeade.

"There's the Peruvian Minister for Tourism. And that man there's the African Head of Magical Games and Sports. And-- oh lord-- there's Ali Bashir. He's been trying to import flying carpets for years. I keep telling him they'll never replace brooms, but he sees a niche market for a family vehicle..." Mr. Weasley said as Cayden listens to his every word with interest.

"Blimey, Dad. How far up are we?" Ron said.

"Well, if it rains, you'll know first." A new voice said.

Cayden turns his head, looking at Mr. Malfoy descended the stairs with Draco.

"Father and I are in the Minister's box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself." Draco boasts.

"Now, now, Draco. There's no need to boast. Blood has its privileges. As I'm sure your schoolmates are well aware." Mr. Malfoy said, eyes trailing nastily over Hermione, looking at Cayden when the boy moves to stand in front of her with his arms crossed. "Mr. Potter, I've heard so much about you."

"You should tell your son to behave when he is next to a Hippogriff." Cayden said, glancing at Draco before looking back at Mr. Malfoy. "He's gonna get somebody killed one of these days." He said. "And it's more body than you will ever have, Mr. Malfoy." He said, turning to follow Harry who is holding back a smile.

"Nice." Harry said, walking up the stairs with Cayden beside him.

"Thank you." Cayden said, smiling.

≪ °❈° ≫

Cayden, Harry and the others have settled into the utmost row, where the wind whips coldly. As a fleet of broomsticks jet into view, a roar rises in the crowd.

"It's the Irish! There's Troy!" Fred exclaimed excitedly.

"And Mullet." George said.

"And here comes Moran..." Before Fred can finish, a fleet of dark-clad riders soar over the opposite rim of the stadium. The crowd roars again.

"Here come the Bulgarians!" George exclaimed excitedly.

"Who's that?" Ginny questioned, pointing to Viktor Krum.

"That, sis, is the best Seeker in the world." George said, bumping his elbow with Fred, nodding to Cayden who looks transfixed by the Seeker.

"He flies rather well, doesn't he?" Hermione said, bumping her shoulder with Cayden who nods in agreement.

"You could say that." Fred said, lifting his Omnioculars to his eyes and spins a dial.

"What's his name?" Ginny asked. And on cue, thousands of fans on the opposite side of the stadium flip large cards bearing the face of a surly, looking boy with thick eyebrows. Each one is emblazoned with his name: Krum.

"Krum?" Hermione questioned.

"Krum." Harry, Ron, Fred and George said.

As the boys look up in admiration, Krum jets past the vast mosaic of his likeness with nary a glance, flying with such breathtaking skill.

"Good evening! As Minister for Magic, it gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup! Let the match begin!"