The Heartbroken International Quidditch Star

Everything that happened was both accidental and inevitable.

The Bulgarian team naturally won their first match, and Viktor Krum finally caught sight of Hermione.

It was at the camp outside the stadium. He and his teammates were planning to head back and celebrate properly when he happened to see her intimately linked arm in arm with an unfamiliar man as they entered a very luxurious-looking tent.

He wanted badly to convince himself that his eyes had deceived him and he had mistaken someone else for her, but the eyes that could spot the Golden Snitch every time could not lie to him.

That was right. It was her—the beautiful foreign girl he had been unable to stop thinking about, Hermione Granger.

Krum's mind went blank. He had no idea how he made it back to the team's tent.

"Cheers!"

He stared blankly at the glass in his hand, raised it, and drained it in one gulp.

The bitter liquor flowed down his throat and into his stomach. He glanced at the authentic Scotch Whiskey on the table before him and reached out to pick it up.

One glass, two glasses...

Ivanova, who had noticed something was wrong, hurriedly pressed down on his hand. "Viktor, what has been going on with you since earlier? You were perfectly fine when we came down from the podium."

Krum gave a bitter smile and moved her hand away. "Sorry, Klara. My mood suddenly got worse."

Ivanova picked up her own glass. "Viktor, you finally agreed to call me by my name."

She clinked her glass against his. "My mood happens to be the opposite of yours. If you want someone to drink with, I'd be more than happy to keep you company."

"Alright." Krum drained his glass by himself.

The teammates around them tactfully