Chapter 1: The Fire
August 16th, 1997
Viktor Krum lay asleep in his bed with the heavy drapes drawn to keep out the summer sun, when his brother crept through the door. They had been together as brothers for almost seven years and they both had gotten their letters from Durmstrang three years previous. When Andor and Lailya adopted Kozmas, they decided to list his birthday as the same year Viktor was born so that the boys wouldn't have to separate when school started. Both boys were very close to each other and Kozmas wouldn't talk much to anyone except Viktor.
As Kozmas crept closer, his brother Viktor remained quiet in his bed. Kozmas prepared and launched himself on his brother. Viktor awoke face-to-face with his brother's untameable black hair in disarray, slightly covering his green eyes. "Morning."
Viktor's eyebrows knitted together, "Morning? You jump on me and say 'Morning'? What kind of brother are you?"
Kozmas smiled at Viktor, "The kind that tells you that you and I are due downstairs in," Kozmas checked his gold watch, "seven minutes."
Viktor's eyes flew open as he sat up, flinging his brother to the end of his bed. "You wake me up just now? Are you trying to get me castrated?" Kozmas laughed as Viktor ran into his bathroom. He gathered Viktor's robes and laid them out for him. After he put Viktor's uniform in the black bag he had placed in the hallway before entering Viktor's room.
"Let's go Julio Iglesias," Kozmas yelled to his sibling. Viktor laughed from the bathroom and ran out in his boxers. "I laid out your clothes, now hurry up. I have our uniforms in the bag." Kozmas ran his hand along his arm and felt the scars underneath the sleeve from the chains. He remembered when they were removed and how Viktor held his hand the entire time.
"Come on Kozmas! You were just telling me to hurry up. Get out of dream land, brother, we're late." Viktor grabbed the bag from the ground and ran down the halls with Kozmas on his heels. The boys went one after the other sliding down the banister and swiftly dismounted with a practiced grace. Each grabbed a handful of Floo powder off of the mantle and shouted "Bulgaria National Stadium!" before entering the fireplace.
The boys were greeted with a shout of "Krum!" when they ambled out of the fireplace into the entrance way. The team manager was waiting for them.
Kozmas checked his watch, "Five minutes early."
"Good," The man said. "Volkov won't have a reason to massacre you if you get down stairs in five minutes." The manager was talking about the team captain for Bulgaria's national Quidditch team. The Krum boys were prodigies when it came to playing Quidditch and so the team managers were grooming them into star players from the age of eleven.
Viktor chased after Kozmas as they ran to the locker rooms and were in the door just on time. "On time for once I see," remarked the upstanding Bulgarian in his red Quidditch robes.
The boys headed over to their lockers to suit up. Kozmas and Viktor watched another player, Demitrov, come in late. Volkov wasn't happy.
Kozmas ignored the verbal lashing and took off his robe and shirt. A few players had yet to get used to seeing the scars that marred the young boy's back. His beauty, however, wasn't hindered as more tattoo-like markings continued to manifest slowly on all parts of his body. Just recently a faint outline had started appearing on his upper back. Viktor was excited and tried to guess what it would look like when it finally darkened.
Kozmas, however, didn't share the same enthusiasm. He wanted to be normal but normal wasn't much of an option when you spend your first few years of life chained to a wall. No one knew why Kozmas had been in that forest and no one could tell his family why 'tattoos' were popping up on his skin. He was a walking mystery.
Viktor put his hand on his little brother's shoulder. He had grown sensitive to Kozmas' feelings and could tell when his brother was feeling down. Viktor removed his hand from his shoulder and held Kozmas' hand flat under his. 'It's going to be okay. I promise,' he signed in his brother's hand. His younger brother grinned at him and nodded. He remembered the first time Viktor said that to him.
The two thirteen-year-olds grabbed their brooms and headed out to the field to join in the team practice. Kozmas and Viktor had been flying with the team for an hour when Kozmas went down to land. As soon as he hit the ground he was violently ill. A few players, Ginoski and Murra, flew down to see to him. Both landed and went to Kozmas but couldn't get within ten feet of him, as if there was a force field. Kozmas started yelling in pain on the side of the Quidditch field, successfully getting Volkov's attention.
"Come on, Krum. Suck it up!" he shouted.
"Volkov!" Murra shouted. "Something's wrong. We can't get to him!"
As most of the team was watching, Kozmas yelled in agony and a ring of fire appeared surrounding him. Viktor was at the edge of the force field calling to his brother when Kozmas burst into flame. As soon as the fire came, it was gone and Kozmas Krum lay still on the surprisingly un-charred grass.
"Viktor... help." Viktor snapped out of his trance-like state and rushed to his brother. He was unscathed and burn-free but he moaned in pain when Viktor place his hand on Kozmas' back. "Back is on fire."
Viktor pulled off his brother's arm and chest padding along with his robes when he saw more manifestations that hadn't been on his brother's arms before. Viktor pulled off his younger brother's shirt to reveal black markings all over his torso that weren't present in the locker room earlier.
"What's happening to me?" Kozmas had fearful tears in his eyes.
"Koz! Vik! Take the rest of the day off. Figure out what the hell is going on and get your prodigy arses back into this arena." The Krum boys stared at their captain for a moment before Volkov barked, "Now!"
"Mother! Something's wrong with Kozmas!" Viktor shouted through the house.
Kozmas breathed heavily but more evenly. He held close to Viktor in a reflexive action. Whenever something was wrong Viktor was there and it made Kozmas feel safe. Lailya and Andor appeared at the top of the staircase and once recognizing that their children lay in a heap just outside of the floo grate, the boys' father flew down the stairs, jumping the last several to reach them faster. Lailya followed closely behind.
"It's the tattoos. They're everywhere! He broke down on the field and burst into flame and was screaming in agony. Then suddenly it all disappeared and the markings were there. Volkov told us to leave and sort it out." Viktor racked his traumatized memory for anything he missed and found nothing.
With Kozmas' shirt removed, the family viewed his new markings. Celtic swirls and twists went down the side of his right ribcage and down to his hip. A pair of imperfect angel's wings graced most of Kozmas' back with a few broken and ruffled feathers. Lailya gasped at the sad beauty of the black lines so intricately formed on her adoptive son's back. She instinctively traced the lines.
Across Kozmas' lower abdomen lay complex scroll-like banners with words in Latin printed upon the child's tanned skin. "Flectere si nequeo superos, Achaeronta movebo." The words sounded wrong as they left Andor's lips. "I have no idea what this means. Viktor, do you know what this means? It has been too long since I've read any Latin to remember anything."
Viktor studied the phrase and said, "It says something about raising something or other. I am unsure of the rest of it." Neither Lailya nor Kozmas could make heads or tails of it either.
Andor looked thoughtful. "Lailya dearest, how do you feel about a trip to see Altair and Mira?"
Lailya smiled broadly, "I do dearly miss my older sister. Altair would definitely know what this means. I will floo call Mira now." The fussing mother turned to the youngest of their family. "Are you alright, son?"
Kozmas nodded and embraced his mother with affection which was returned in kind.
"Let's go," Viktor tugged on Kozmas' hand and they went up the stairs followed by their father to each pack their own luggage for the impromptu vacation. Viktor, however, didn't miss the tell-tale habit of Kozmas running his hands down his scars. His brother was feeling self-conscious again. Viktor would have to fix that later.
August 25th, 1997
The up-standing Krum family booked an international portkey for their trip to visit Lailya's sister Mira and her husband Altair and were waiting for their allotted time to touch the dented copper tea kettle. Kozmas mused about the interesting objects that the ministry used as portkeys. In the middle of his musings however, Andor stepped forward with an accurate eye on his wrist watch. "Thirty seconds to departure everyone. Touch the kettle," he ordered as his hand clasped the spout. The other three present touched the dented copper and suddenly felt a jerk from behind their navel.
Kozmas and Viktor landed first followed closely by their parents, narrowly avoiding a jumbling of limbs during their landing. They had landed in a foggy field in Macedonia outside the city of Kumanovo. "Dearest," started Lailya, "I thought there was to be a clear day."
Andor eyed the surrounding fog suspiciously, "Crystal clear in fact. There shouldn't be a cloud or trace of fog anywhere." The family continued walking into the city and were eventually among the crowd of commuters during their morning hype. The heavy fog was widely noticed by the locals too as unexpected weather. Andor once again shrugged it off a freak incident of nature.
Red beams shot out of nowhere and stunned many people in the crowds. Black-cloaked beings were making their way through the crowds taking down a many people as possible. Many in the crowd rebelled but the heavy fog made it hard for anyone to defend themselves. Lailya shouted to Andor to grab the boys but when they went to grasp their respective children and apparated away, one was missing.
"Kozmas! Where are you?" Andor shouted into the foggy frenzy surrounding them. He pushed and pushed through screaming people trying to find his son. "Kozmas!"
The fog started to clear as the black figures disappeared. Andor looked up and down the city streets to see no one resembling his son. Where had he gone? Andor searched the alleyways and other surrounding streets calling his son's name to no avail. He realized Kozmas must have been taken and headed straight to the local ministry to file a missing persons report.
After a long and heartbreaking search, Macedonian and Bulgarian aurors alike came to the same conclusion: Kozmas Izaak Krum was not to be seen again.