Note: All previous warnings and disclaimers still apply. In addition, I warn you that I wrote most of this chapter while my man had friends over for a football game and I was mildly buzzed (ok, more like mildly sloshed) on White Russians and pink vodka cocktails. I'd like to give a big "Thank you" to the people who created and maintain the HP-wiki. Without it, many of the finer details wouldn't have made it into this chapter and beyond. Have fun reading and don't forget to review!
Viktor woke to his howler alarm nagging him about getting up and getting his schedule back on track. Sitting up as he rubbed a hand down his face, he started to second guess his sister-in-law's suggestion of using the thing in this different time zone. When the howler's rants started to turn towards name-calling, he lit the candles of his room with a thought and his dark gaze shot daggers at the folded paper, which quickly acknowledged he was now fully awake and calmly folded itself to float back down to his nightstand. "D'at t'ing is going to be confedd'i be da end of da year..." he mused as he flung the covers off his legs and planted his feet on the wooden floor. He stood and stretched his arms high above his head, giving a massive yawn of his chiseled jaw. As he reached under his pillow and withdrew his wand, he started going over what his schedule would be on a daily basis for this year, what variants would be interjected for the weekends, and what sort of escape plans he might need in case of any overly ambitious fans. He didn't need a repeat of the the witch in Wales over a year ago who claimed she'd die if he didn't let her carry his children. The escaping would have to be planned later, as he didn't yet have a good idea of the castle layout. With a wave of his wand and a low-spoken word, his bed folded itself neatly up, even fluffing his pillow before settling back down. While he changed into a fresh set of underclothes and uniform, he looked over the short stack of parchment on his dresser, reviewing his class schedule along with when the breaks and meals were. One of the notes in the stack was from Karkaroff, stating he would escort Viktor to submit his name in the Goblet of Fire that evening.
Just as he reached for his boots, a crack of thunder outside the ship had him sighing mentally. There would be no outdoor workout for him that day. The last thing he needed was to start his final schoolyear with a cold. Stripping down to his A-shirt and boxer-briefs again, he tossed his shirt and pants on the bed. He couldn't wait to get outside and run, take the fresh Scottish air into his lungs, hear all the sounds of the wildlife. In the meantime, he dropped his wand on the bed and, as before, expended minimal effort to create the pillow of shifting air that kept him levitated enough that he could run on it. He'd been jogging for about thirty minutes when Yan poked his head in the door. "Da," Viktor said in acknowledgment when he saw him.
"I am glad you are up. Did you get Karkaroff's note?" Yan asked as he stepped inside, but left the door open due to Viktor causing the somewhat small room to be rather warm and scented with fresh sweat.
"Da," he replied between carefully-timed breaths. He stared straight at the wall in front of him as he jogged, only glancing to Yan as he spoke.
"Good. I haff to get going. Break'vast is in vourty-vive minutes or so," he said as Viktor nodded to him. Yan stepped out, closing the door behind him. About five minutes later, Viktor dismissed the pillow of air with a mere thought and landed gently on his feet. He snagged his towel from where he left it on the back of the chair drying last night and went to take a brief shower. When he got back to his room, he put his uniform back on, laced up his boots, and grabbed his books from the bottom drawer of his dresser, tucking the sheets of parchment inside the cover of one, including the letter to his parents he'd written the night before. Ensuring he had his favorite quill somewhere in the stack, he stepped from the room and headed for the longboats, snuffing the candles just as the door shut.
Viktor walked through the castle with three other Durmstrangs, passing a map of the castle between each of them. Karkaroff had already known about the Tournament's age-limit, so he only brought last-year students on the trip, despite his confidence in Viktor ultimately being chosen. As such, most of the Durmstrangs had greatly varying schedules, as the last-year students took mostly elective classes. Despite this, the four of them ended up having the first class together, Muggle Studies, and dropped off their books in the appropriate classroom before heading to the Great Hall for breakfast.
As the four of them stepped into the Great Hall and made their way to the Slytherin table, the conversations around them seemed to silence for a few moments, only coming back to life in hushed tones at first. Slowly, the chattering grew back to where it had before their entrance. Viktor spotted the annoying trio from the night before already at the table, sitting fairly close to the door, probably so they could spot Viktor as soon as he came for breakfast. They succeeded. Draco looked as though he was getting ready to stand and greet the Bulgarian formally, and Viktor swore he could see a slip of parchment beneath Crabbe's sleeve. Taking the initiative, Viktor spoke in Bulgarian to the schoolmate that was in the front-position of the small group. "Yuri, there is something wrong about that blonde one. I do not know what, but keep walking. We should sit at the other end," he said while keeping his eyes forward.
Yuri wasn't as close of a friend to Viktor as Yan was, but he still trusted Viktor enough to not question him at the moment. "Sure," he replied, also keeping his words in Bulgarian. "You want to just avoid them altogether?"
"If I could do that all year, it would be better than winning the Cup," Viktor said as they strode by the Slytherin trio, showing no intention of stopping to say hello, keeping their eyes straight ahead. Out of the corner of his eye, Viktor caught the look on Draco's face, his mouth slightly open as though he was going to say something, but never did as they simply walked by without a glance. "Thank you, friends," Viktor continued once they reached the far end of the Slytherin table and they each started to grab a plate from the stack. Yuri sat on the same bench as Viktor, placing himself between his friend and the one to be avoided. The other two stepped around the table to sit across from them, effectively giving Draco no way to get Viktor's attention unless he walked down the entire length of the table and came up directly behind him. Viktor wasn't entirely sure Draco wouldn't do exactly that.
The blonde seemed to take the hint, at least for now. He had all year, after all. Once the four of them were seated, each had a plate, and were starting to pick various items from the table to sate the growl in more than one stomach, one of the others in the small group looked to Viktor. Following suit, he kept to the Bulgarian tongue. "So... what was that all about?" Anton asked before stuffing almost a whole pumpkin roll in his mouth. He was fully into yet another growth spurt and lately seemed to eat as though it were a competition. He's shot up eight-centimeters since this time last year.
Making sure he didn't look towards Draco to hint what they were talking about, Viktor shook his head slightly as he poured his pumpkin juice. "There is something wrong with that one. Not just annoying, something really wrong. I have sat in the middle of over a dozen girls all clawing, crying, and begging me for Merlin knows what. But sitting next to just him.... It sent my skin crawling. I felt like I was suffocating." He served himself various items from the table and they all started to dig in. As they ate, they discussed various reasons why Draco might have given Viktor those vibes. Theories ranged from his girly-colored hair, to his demeanor, to even the way he might smell. The conversation shifted towards what classes each of them were taking that year, which got a few chuckles directed towards Viktor when they found out he was taking yet another year of Care of Magical Creatures. He refrained from telling them what he intended to do with the knowledge after he stepped out of the Quidditch spotlight, and friends that they were, they didn't press the issue. When they finished and were headed for their class, they continued their conversation as they walked by Draco and his two wingmen, not even giving them a glance that might encourage them to say hello.
Viktor thought it best to get a great deal of the autographs out of the way as soon as possible. As they were leaving Muggle Studies, Viktor asked Yuri how many students attended Hogwarts. He said there was roughly a thousand and probably a fairly even split of male and female. Five of the female half were waiting for Viktor when they entered the hallway. Yuri chuckled and waved to Viktor as he walked off. "Only 495 to go!" he called in Bulgarian. To this, Viktor simply smirked before taking the first parchment offered to him.
The rest of the day progressed rather smoothly, despite the constant drizzle that promised to become a full thunderstorm by nightfall. Draco seemed to either not have any classes near Viktor's, or he really did take the hint that Viktor didn't want to talk to him or his two friends. Viktor found he and Yuri both had Advanced Transfiguration for their second class, which focused on the more difficult animals, such as non-mammals. After the second class was a short break, during which Viktor and Yuri took the opportunity to walk the halls a bit and learn the layout of the castle. They passed by several other Durmstrangs doing the same thing, as well as the Beauxbaton ladies. Yuri didn't bother trying to hide it as he strained his neck to watch the trio of ladies adorned in blue walk past them and down the corridor for quite a while. "You are about to v'alk into a v'all," Viktor said on a smirk, which had Yuri spinning his head back around, only to find out Viktor had been joking with him.
Yuri and Viktor split up when Yuri had Herbology and Viktor had Advanced Care of Magical Creatures. Viktor was quietly thrilled that the class had exactly what he was looking for – Class4 Creatures, the highest level of creatures that were not known wizard-killers or impossible to tame, but still required a highly skilled hand. On the list of creatures they would be studying, he saw the two that were the precise reasons he took this class. He gave a slow smile and looked back up to Professor Plank**, who was indicating on a large map where each of the species on the list would be studied on the school grounds and during what time of the year. He made careful mental notes on the two he was most interested in, though any students watching him might say he looked moderately bored at the time.
Lunch was much the same as breakfast. Viktor sat with the same Durmstrangs as the first meal, a few more joining their group as well. They kept to speaking Bulgarian, in case curious ears were too near for comfort, but mostly chatted about their classes. Several expressed their regret at not completing the final year of their magical education at their native school, but it was levied by the excitement of the Tournament, which hadn't taken place in nearly 200 years. During the break after lunch, Yan found Viktor signing more autographs and told him where to meet Karkaroff before dinner. After the break, two of the other Durmstrangs had High Potions with Viktor. Among the potions they would learn that year were Blood-Replenishing, Dreamless Sleep, and Black Fire. Viktor noticed the course seemed to lean towards more complicated protection and healing potions.
Once the final bell rang and the students were released to their own whims until dinner, Viktor made his way to the Entrance Hall to meet with Karkaroff. Instead, he found Yan. "D'ere you are," Yan said on a smile as Viktor walked up. Just as he clasped his friend's hand, a roll of thunder promised to keep the grounds thoroughly soaked throughout the night. "Karkaroff v'ill be out in a moment. He said he had to talk to da head of Slyv'der'in house," he continued before releasing Viktor's hand. "Give d'ose here." Yan motioned to Viktor's books, which he handed over with an arched brow. "It v'ill not do for you to be sh'offling d'em between your hands v'hen you are reaching for da cup."
Viktor kept his brow arched and looked his friend up and down briefly. "You seem to ve more excited d'an anyv'one else, Yan." Viktor chuckled and shook his head after a moment.
"Da, call it 'excitement vy associ'vation,' if you v'ill," he replied on a smirk before stuffing the entire stack of Viktor's books into his right pant pocket.
Viktor stared at Yan's pocket, which now harmlessly held his lax hand, before looking back up to his face. "Since v'hen to you keep Undet'acktav'ul Ek'sten'chun on your pockets?" he inquired with that same arched brow.
To this, Yan gave a sly chuckle before speaking. "Since Karkaroff, v'or some reason, became obsessed with keeping copies of certain parchments v'ithin reach at all times. Do not ask how many I have in my left pocket... I have lost count." Yan smirked before his face became instantly impassive and professional at seeing Karkaroff approach.
Viktor noticed the change in Yan's expression and the fact that he was looking over his shoulder. Taking the hint, Viktor turned on his heel to face the HighMaster and squared his shoulders. "Good effening, HighMaster," he said with a brief nod of his head.
"I trust your first day here went well, Krum," Karkaroff said as he approached the two, stopping in front of Viktor, who nodded to his statement.
"Da, HighMaster. Da professors here seem very competent and eager to teach. I look vorward to completing da year here," Viktor replied, trying to compliment the Hogwarts professors, but not appear to put them above those of Durmstrang.
Karkaroff seemed to study Viktor for several moments. "Come," he said simply before turning and heading towards the west wing, Yan and Viktor quickly following. He turned before reaching the actual wing however, and stepped into a study room that was currently empty. Yan and Viktor came in behind him, Yan mindfully closing the door and waiting by it. Karkaroff continued about a dozen paces into the room before turning to face Viktor, who had followed by his side. Viktor had never seen Karkaroff so deep in thought when he looked down to his face. In a split second, a hundred emotions flashed through the HighMaster's eyes before he gently laid his hands on Viktor's shoulders and looked him square in the face. His tone lowered to one less commanding than he usually presented, which caught Viktor rather by surprise, but he kept his reaction in check and remained impassive in appearance. "Viktor," Karkaroff began. "You have been the closest thing to a son that I have ever had. I never put a woman through the hell of being with me and so I never sired. But when I noticed you in your second year, when you just starting to grow up, I thought that if I had a son, I would want him to be like you. Tonight, you will put your name in the Goblet and you will achieve glory beyond any other means. But none of that will matter if you cannot have the pride of a son as I have in you now. Do not be the fool that I was. Make sure that what you do with your life has purpose."
Viktor stood there rather dumbstruck by the HighMaster's words. Even as reserved as Karkaroff tried to be at that moment, Viktor could sense that there was a great deal of emotion behind every syllable. He allowed it all to sink in before taking a slow breath and giving a thoughtful nod to him. "Da, HighMaster. Glory v'ithout purpose v'ould be v'orthless," he said after a long moment of contemplation.
"Exactly." Karkaroff nodded and withdrew his hands from Viktor's shoulders, looking to him for another moment before turning back to Yan at the door. He was now standing at a nearby desk, a small piece of parchment and quill waiting for Viktor. Needing no instruction, Viktor walked straight over to the desk and wrote his name in clear letters, putting his thoughts of what the HighMaster had said into the ink, if it were possible. Glory without purpose is worthless. He rolled the thought around in his mind as he handed the quill back to Yan and looked to Karkaroff while folding the paper in half. The HighMaster nodded and led them from the room, Yan closing the door as he followed them out.
When the trio reached the Entrance Hall, Karkaroff paused momentarily, motioning for Viktor to take the lead into the Great Hall where the Goblet awaited. As they approached, Viktor heard the chanting of other students, mostly Hogwarts from the sound of it. Durmstrangs shared deeper tones due to their heritage, and the Beauxbatons likely had very feminine notes. In all likelihood, they were students gathered to see who would submit their names for the Tournament, supporting those too young and cheering those brave enough. Viktor tuned it all out, narrowing his eyes slightly as he kept his gaze straight ahead, focusing his mind on that one thought. Glory without purpose is worthless. He repeated it in his mind as he turned into the Great Hall and headed straight for the enchanted blue flame directly before him. Glory without purpose is worthless. The room fell silent as Viktor approached the Goblet, flanked by Yan and Karkaroff. Glory without purpose is worthless. He crossed the AgeLine as though he didn't even notice it, which he mostly didn't in his concentration. Reaching up to the Goblet, he let the paper fall into the flame. He recited the words once more as he turned. Glory without... As he turned to walk away, his gaze fell to one of the female Hogwarts students. A young lady sitting with a book in her lap, watching him with quiet curiosity. It was the same girl as he'd seen in the corridor after the Welcoming Feast. He was sure of it. In less than a second, the took her in. Auburn-brown curls that fell just past her shoulders. Eyes that seemed to be made of chocolate melted from the light of the Fire. And the tiniest of smiles on her soft-rose lips. It took less than a second from the moment the paper left his fingers until he was turned back around and striding out the way he came. But in that moment, his lips matched that young lady's in the faintest of smiles.
…purpose...
After they left the Great Hall, Yan handed Viktor back his books as they followed Karkaroff through one of the courtyards towards the longboats. As Karkaroff caught sight of the owl tower, he stopped almost abruptly, turning to Viktor. "Have you written to parents? I know your father would like to know how your last year is starting and your mother always worries too much."
"Not yet, HighMaster. I thought to send it tonight after dinner," Viktor said as he reached into the outside cover of one of the books and withdrew the letter he'd prepared the night before.
"You should go now. With all of the other students writing home, there may not be many rested owls left to depart tonight. I have business after dinner and will be unavailable until tomorrow. As such, I wish you good night," he said before giving a bow from the waist to Viktor.
"To you too, HighMaster," Viktor replied, mirroring the bow before Karkaroff and Yan walked out of sight towards the boat house. Looking to the owl tower, Viktor cocked a brow at Karkaroff's accurate statement. There was indeed a lack of owls flying around the tower, as there seemed to have been a surplus when they'd first arrived and he'd seen it much earlier that day. In fact, there didn't seem to be any at all. He wondered if Yan had remembered to take Dimitar to the tower, Viktor's owl since his father had given him the nearly solid black creature on his tenth birthday, making him no longer a family pet, but more of Viktor's personally. As he tried to find his way through the twisting hallways and another courtyard, he remembered that Dimitar rarely delivered letters for anyone outside of the Krum family. And even then, one of them pretty much had to hand the bird the letter themselves anyway.
Despite his walk with Yuri earlier to learn the layout of the castle, it still took a solid ten minutes for him to find the pathway leading up to the owl tower. When he looked up to the room atop the tower, he caught a hint of movement inside. Good. He thought to himself. There is at least one owl up there. I would be willing to bet it is Dimitar. He made his way up the steps, carefully avoiding the... decorations all the owls of the first day had made on the surrounding area.
As he turned on the second-to-last landing before getting to the top room, Viktor heard someone that seemed to be arguing. Though it seemed that they were arguing with themselves, as he only heard one voice. A female voice. "Oh please!" he heard the female say in a pleading tone. Slowing his pace, he listened carefully, making his steps as silent as possible. If this young woman was arguing with a boy, Viktor was not one to stand by and allow any harm to come to her. Proper respect towards all women was one of the lessons at the forefront of his father's teachings in growing up. "It's just one letter! Why won't you do it?" Approaching slowly, Viktor heard the very slight flutter of wings just after a few muffled steps of shoes, repeating in this pattern. "Please, please, please! I promised them that I would write the first day. Won't you be a sweetheart and do this for me?" As the young lady said the word "sweetheart," Viktor's breath caught in his throat. For some unknown reason, hearing that word from that voice in that sweet and trying-to-be-seductive tone was like a moment of glowing warmth to his entire being. Whoever she was, he wasn't about to let someone deny that sweet voice whatever she was begging for at this moment, as she had surely dropped to the level of begging with her next tone. "For Merlin's sake! You're the only one left who doesn't need rest. Those other five just came in and won't be ready until morning. What makes you such a special owl that you refuse a simple request for a letter delivery?" Just as she was saying the last sentence, Viktor finally came up to the doorway and looked inside. He saw what was surely the back of that lovely young lady that was watching him place his name in the Goblet. Her head tilted up, she was looking to one of the higher shelves in the room where the owls made their roosts. With only his head peeking out to see was a very dark, very non-compliant owl. Dimitar. "Please," she begged the refusing owl. "If you deliver the letter to my parents, I'll... um... well... What do you like to eat?"
With a silent smile, Viktor raised his left forearm before him. Dimitar caught the movement and immediately recognized his master, dropping from his roost near the room's ceiling to glide swiftly and land on the offered perch of Viktor's arm. The young lady followed the owl's movements, holding a sealed envelope out to him, which was blatantly ignored by the creature. "His v'avorite is duck," he said as he looked from the owl on his arm to the lady now standing before him.
Woohoo! My first cliffy! I know, I'm ebil. :-)
Don't forget to review please!
**For the sake of story-flow, I decided Professor Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank was the Care of Magical Creatures teacher for the whole year, leaving Hagrid to care for the Beauxbaton Abraxans, Blast-Ended Skrewts, and other fun fuzzies.