"Tell me a story!" Darina demanded as she bounced up and down on her mattress, her seven year-old frame adorned in green pajamas with blue spots on them.

"Then vill you finally go to bed?" a very sleep-deprived man with dark hair to match his daughter's pleaded as he sat down on the twin-sized mattress beside her.

The little girl nodded, and pulled the pink sheets up to her chin. "Make it a happy one."

"Of course Printsesa," The small girl's father smiled as he planted a kiss on her forehead, the girl's green eyes looking up at him expectantly. He stood up off the bed, and walked over to a small bookcase, picking out one of the many books of fairytales, a muggle book, titled 'Cinderella', which happened to be one of Darina's favorites.

"How about this one?" He asked as he showed the cover to Darina, who frowned.

"I want to hear a real story." She pouted, and then brightened again. "I want to hear your story!"

The man rubbed his temple. "You do not vant to hear much of my story. It is boring, most of vit." Darina merely frowned again.

"Then tell me the interesting parts!"

The man bit back a laugh. Just like her daddy, this one was. Stubborn, and straight to the point. "Very vell," He laughed, dropping the book onto the mattress and settling down next to his daughter.

He began. "Once upon a time, there was a boy. He lived in a big house in Sofia,"

"That's you!" Darina interrupted enthusiastically. Her father smiled. "Yes. That is me, and I'm the one telling the story!" He rebuked gently. His daughter smiled sheepishly and he began again.

"This boy had many things, but he was not very happy. He roamed around his big house every day, sadness in his eyes. One day, the boy's parents were tired of seeing him unhappy, so they bought him his very first broom." He stopped for a moment, reminiscing.

Darina bounced on her mattress eagerly. "And then what?" she asked, snapping her father back to reality.

"Well, the boy took to the sky, and fell in love." The man said. "From that day, nearly every thought in his mind was occupied with flying, how fast he could go; what tricks he would learn. And then, one day, he discovered Quidditch.

"He spent every moment he could practicing, falling in love all over again with the sport; he started school, and played there too. He became very good. His teachers noticed, and one day, on the boy's seventeenth birthday, he started playing with people, people who were the best in the whole country, and he was content, for a while.

"But soon the sadness returned. He was missing something, he felt, something important, but he played anyway, and it took his mind off of it, for a while." He glanced at Darina, a solemn expression on her face.

"But…but he wasn't sad forever…" She said waveringly. The man shook his head.

"No, no he vasn't." Her father smiled. "Because he kept playing, and that team he was on, they were so good; they went to the Quidditch World Cup!"

"But you didn't win…" Darina said, confused at the growing fondness in her father's voice.

"No, I didn't," the dark-haired man said, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes, "But when he first flew out onto the pitch, he saw what he had been missing, staring at him, from the top box."

"Daddy!" Darina said, excitedly.

The man gave his daughter a lop-sided smile. "Yes, he saw your Daddy. But neither boy spoke to the other, not until that Christmas, during the Tri-wizard tournament."

"The one where uncle Cedric almost…" The girl spoke in hushed tones, as if speaking of her favorite honorary uncle's brush with death would somehow make it happen again.

"Yes, that one." The man said. "He was not happy; you see that the boy had taken his friend to the Ball. He was jealous, and at first, the boy thought that he was jealous of him, that he wanted to take the lovely brunette to the Ball,"

"But he didn't!" Darina squealed, pleased she could supplement this part of the story, "He was jealous of her!"

"The boy didn't find that out until later," the man sighed, "They had finished the second task, to retrieve a person they would sorely miss from the bottom of the BlackLake. The boy had to retrieve the girl he brought to the ball. The boy's friend got angry again. The boy half expected to push him back into the lake, but the boy was tired of whatever game the two were playing, so he leaned forward and whispered in his friend's ear, It should have been you.

"At first the no one did anything, but the boy's friend whispered back, I would have liked that."

Darina smiled wildly, delighting in the romantic-ness of it all. "That sounds like a fairytale!" she gushed, as the two of them heard a click on the lock of her door.

The wood door swung open to reveal a wiry, black-haired man, whose green eyes flashed in the light of the small girl's bedroom.

"Daddy!" The little girl shrieked as she leapt out of bed and bounded into the man's waiting arms. The green-eyed man laughed as he kissed his daughter on the cheek.

The other man groaned. "I thought you said you vould go to bed!" The green-eyed man smiled.

"Papa was telling me a story!" Darina enthused.

"Was he?" her Daddy asked interestedly. "Was it Cinderella again?"

"No, it was his story!" Darina said importantly. The green-eyed man's expression softened.

"Where did you leave off?" He asked.

"It was at the Lake!" The little girl practically crowed. The green-eyed man put the girl back in bed.

"Then you'll have to remind me tomorrow night, so I can go from there." He kissed the girl on the forehead as she pouted. Her Papa followed suit.

"Good night, Printsesa." He smiled as he closed the door.

As soon as the two men were out in the hallway, the shorter, green-eyed man looked up at his husband of ten years.

"You know that's not what happened." He said impishly, winding his arms around the taller, more muscular man's neck.

The tall man sighed. "What was I supposed to tell her Harry? That we both got horribly drunk at the Ball, and you woke up in the Durmstrang ship? That I had to practically hunt you down to get you to stop freaking out about it, and apologize for whatever silly crush I had on you?"

"And then after said apology, I told you to stuff it and pulled you into a broom closet?" Harry finished.

"Vell, I suppose we vill tell her the truth eventually," The tall man sighed.

"Maybe when she turns, oh, I don't know, thirty." Harry laughed, planting a kiss on his lover's lips.

"I don't recall you actually pulling me into a broom closet." The other man said amusedly.

Harry took the bait, "Well, Viktor, would you like me to jog your memory?"

A/N: Okay, I apologize for the slipping in and out of Viktor's accent, I got lazy. Sorry. ^_^ Please please please review! It means a lot to me, even if you just want to be lazy and put "it was good". So click that little button! It's lonely….

*Also, Darina is a name I really like for Harry and Viktor's daughter, because somehow, part of it translates to "gift", which is exactly what they think of her, especially because they had to go through a lot to have her. (No Mpreg, don't like that stuff) But THAT is another story altogether that hopefully I won't be too lazy to write...