Silver Linings

The inspiration for this story came from reading Eclairs by Flaignhan – I recommend going to read it if you appreciate this story, as theirs is much much better – but that's where I got the idea of slightly egotistical, cheeky Cedric from. I also think, given that his death is such a major plot point, that he really didn't get enough book time in GOF and I thought I'd start this and see where it went.

Hermione Granger shifted in her bed, trying to adjust to the narrow cot she was lying on in the small room she was sharing with Ginny Weasley. Ginny's breathing was soft and even, indicating she was still fast asleep. Hermione envied her slightly, she would have preferred to keep sleeping but was instead gazing out the window at the still dark sky. She wasn't sure what time it was but thought to herself that there was no point trying to get back to sleep when Molly Weasley would be coming in at any moment to wake them. They were due to have an early start in order to get to the Quidditch World Cup, the anticipation of which probably explained why she was awake so early.

Soon enough, she heard the door crack open and Molly came in, floating a tray behind her. "Awake already?" She murmured, passing Hermione a mug of tea from the tray. Hermione just nodded, sitting up and wrapping her hands around the brew. "I'll be waking the boys up in a moment, be downstairs in fifteen minutes." Molly murmured, shaking Ginny awake gently and giving her a mug as well. With that she disappeared and Hermione had a moment to just sip her tea whilst gathering her thoughts.

The two girls were silent as they got ready, neither being awake enough to talk to each other. With a nod they started downstairs. A low rumble from the dining room told them that some of the household were already up, and on entering Hermione saw Fred, George, Ron and Harry sat around the table with Arthur standing by the window that overlooked the Burrow's garden. Molly bustled in from the kitchen to send a bowl of porridge towards Ginny, now climbing into a seat at the table, and to Hermione who stayed standing by the door they had entered by. There was a moment of tranquillity as all the family silently went to work on their breakfasts. The next moment, the peace was shattered.

"George! What's that in your pocket?!"

When they finally left the house, leaving an irate Mrs Weasley behind with a pile of Ten-Ton Toffees, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. It had been just a bit too much for that early in the morning, with only one cup of tea and a couple of mouthfuls of porridge for sustenance. Looking back at the Burrow, she could see lights on in a couple of the bedrooms and realised that Mrs Weasley's mini rampage had probably awoken the rest of the house's occupants. Even those who could apparate had not been able to avoid the early start. She was soon brought back from her thoughts when she stumbled over a tussock in the dark, and instead turned her attention to the ground which was becoming increasingly rough as they left the Burrow behind. Soon she was trekking steeply uphill, trying not to fall over the uneven ground and leaning on Ginny for support. Hermione had to acknowledge she was really not as fit as she should be, all the Weasleys (except for Ginny, but she thought that was probably just sympathy from the younger girl) were far ahead of her whilst she was wheezing at the back.

As Hermione finally reached the top of Stoatshead Hill and managed to catch a breath, she saw that the rest of the family were already greeting two other figures. The first, a tall boy with light brown hair she recognised easily as Cedric Diggory, Hogwart's resident heart throb (according to Ginny at least). Hermione assumed that the other man was a relation, probably Cedric's father, they had the same facial structure and were a similar build. Cedric wears it better though Hermione thought, then stamped on the traitorous thoughts about the Hufflepuff. On moving closer she realised that the twins and Ron were bristling at something the older Diggory was saying whilst Harry looked uneasy. Cedric also stood awkwardly, hands in pockets. He looked up and caught Hermione's eye with a slight grimace, which turned into full on embarrassment as the other wizard, definitely his father Hermione decided, made a loud comment about Harry falling off a broom.

Luckily the party was then distracted by the hunt for the Portkey – any old rubbish apparently, which did not make it easy to spot on a hill covered with the remains of a teenager's party – before Mr Diggory loudly called everyone over whilst waving an old boot. They all huddled around it, trying to touch it in some way, while Mr Weasley counted down to the Portkey time.

Portkey, Hermione decided, was not a comfortable way to travel. As if the jerking and spinning sensation wasn't enough, slamming into the ground was the icing on the top. At least she wasn't the only one, she thought looking around the tangled limbs. Only Mr Weasley, Mr Diggory and Cedric were still standing.

She was trying to get her bearings when a hand appeared in her view. Attached the hand was an arm, a rather muscular arm, with a smiling Cedric Diggory on the end of it. For a short moment, as she looked into eyes so pale blue they appeared grey, she allowed herself a moment to see the attraction that caused half the school to drool whenever he walked by. She mentally shook herself and allowed herself to be helped up, but then snatched her hand back as quickly as possible with a hurried "Thanks". She was distracted at that point by a ministry official noting their arrival and campsite number, relieved to be away from the intense gaze of the older student. Soon after, the Diggorys and the Weasleys went separate ways as they were staying in different campsites.

She watched, slightly alarmed, when Mr Weasley arranged for the payment of the site. She intervened when she realised that he was about to pay the man with fifty pound notes. Mr Roberts, the campsite owner, was getting very suspicious of the wizards but Hermione was horrified that instead of making a better attempt to act like muggles they instead used casual obliviation. Even Mr Weasley was doing a pretty bad job of pretending to be a muggle, despite his best intentions.

She was soon distracted by her thoughts when she saw the campsite. The vast array of wizarding tents on display was incredible, with a multitude of flags in every colour imaginable flying to show support for some quidditch team or another. She didn't recognise most of them, though the glaring orange of Ron's favourite team was hard to miss. There were posters of different players dotted around, mostly wearing green for Ireland or black for Bulgaria. There was one face who dominated all the others both by number of posters and for the scowling expression, a contrast to the wide smiles on all the others. She was told by an awestruck Ron that this was Victor Krum, the Bulgarian seeker and supposed quidditch prodigy.

Reaching the campsite, Mr Weasley announced they would be putting up the tents without magic. Hermione looked dubiously at the tent designated for her and Ginny, which seemed both small and very dated, but she set about putting it up anyway. With her instructing Ginny, the two girls had the tent up fairly easily and certainly much more quickly that the boys, who were being hindered instead of helped by Mr Weasley. With Hermione and Harry's help they soon managed to erect both tents, although from the outside they did not look as though they would sleep ten people between them. One step inside the girl's tent though, and Hermione's jaw dropped. While they most certainly looked like muggle tents from the outside, inside they were magical. There was a small seating area with a little stove, a kitchenette complete with breakfast bar and a full bathroom. The bedroom had two sets of bunk beds, two of which were made up for her and Ginny. She exited the tent looking for Harry who was emerging from his tent with the same expression of wonder she was sure she was sporting. Perhaps it was because she was muggleborn and Harry was muggle raised, but she sometimes felt that they shared an appreciation for the magic that Ron just didn't understand.

As they sat by the fire later that afternoon many ministry officials came over to talk to Mr Weasley as they were moving around the site, although she thought some of them may have been using the excuse to get a closer look at Harry Potter. Some stayed for a while but others hurried past, trying to sort out the many minor issues that were arising with so many witches and wizards in one location.

Hermione just watched it all and taking it in, tiredness from the early start taking over as they sat there drinking tea. She even thought about having a quick nap but there was just so much to see.

Eventually, Mr Weasley stood and smiled at the family, gesturing for them to move towards the woods behind the tent. There were lights everywhere illuminating the way to a gigantic stadium that towered above the trees. Hermione could only gaze at it in awe. It was time for the Quidditch World Cup.