THUNDER * CEDRIC DIGGORY

Chapter One

"Aw, look at Tall Viktor Etta Krum looking all flustered." Mona joked, pinching Viktor's cheeks.

"Stop it." Viktor whispered, swatting her hand away, a giggle falling from his lips but Mona professed from pinching his cheeks to tapping his nose then patting his hair. "Mona! Merlin, why are you so obsessed with my face!"

The trademark euphonious Mona Valebrokk, bell-like laugh, tumbled from her raspberry lips. "Sorry Vik, you're just too darn beautiful."

A lopsided smirk appeared on Viktor's lips and he gave a lazy half-shrug. "Oh, I know."

"Yes, you're very beautiful Etta." Viktor stopped in his tracks as the sentence fell from Mona's lips. Mona turned around, fighting to hold back a laugh as she feigned innocence and quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

Viktor clenched his jaw and Mona couldn't help the laugh to spill from her lips and as she heard Viktor's war-cry ( it was more of a shriek of every vowel possibly known in alternating high, middle and low tones, fascinating really ), she turned around and began a sprint. The only ever time she took part in any respiratory / cardiovascular sorts of activity was when her best friend was chasing her ( the immature pair have used running to escape the other's fury and to show fury since their first year. ) When Mona was the chaser, Viktor would've been able to scope the whole perimeter of the school by the time Mona's caught up with him and when Viktor was the chaser. . . well, that's all really, Viktor was almost constantly always the chaser and would end the chase with either two of his signature chase-ending moves, the throw-over-the-shoulder or bag of flour as Mona calls it and the wrap-and-spin or intelligently called merry-go-around by the Valebrokk girl.

Mona's laugh filled the halls of Durmstrang, the various passerby looked at her with a quirked eyebrow or roll of their eyes. Despite her obvious running motion and even more obvious, her almost-waist length flame-red hair flailing around her head, the halls remained congested and she was completely ( and consciously ) ignored by the opposite traffic. She had to mumble excuse-me and pardon-me and sorry and in the midst of displaying her manners and politeness, she felt an arm around her waist, a distance came between the floor and her feet and the room began to spin.

Mona let out a shriek accompanied with a bubbly laugh. "Tap out!" Viktor said as he continued to spin the girl, her hair blocking almost all of his view, so much so that he couldn't even see the headmaster with his irregularly large striding gait and expression of annoyance and embarrassment etched in his features.

"No!" Mona screamed back when she felt her feet touch the ground and noticed the absence of the slapping air and the lack of wind in her hair, she took a peak of her surroundings and scarcely opened an eye. When she saw the headmaster towering over her, she stepped away from Viktor and immediately straightened her posture, she pushed her shoulder back, jutted her chin upwards, knees unmoving, hands behind her back, face expressionless. However, her mind had not yet recovered from the merry-go-around and she felt the floor moving away from her and creeping towards the ceiling. Her body swayed to the side but Viktor reached an arm and helped her stand up before standing shoulder-to-shoulder to assist her propped up stance.

Igor Karkaroff was today ( and always is ) dressed in Durmstrang colours of obsidian black, marron and dark sage. His face was stoic but his eyes showed disgust, his lips tilted downwards as he looked at the Valebrokk girl and subsequently slowly shook his head at Viktor, disappointment in his eyes and questions arising in his mind to why exactly was the great Bulgarian seeker Viktor Krum friends with the weak, invisible Mona Valebrokk. "Mr. Krum, I'd like to see you in my office." He turned half-way before he faced the two again. "Leave Miss. Valebrokk there."