World Enough and Time
Summary: On the night four names are drawn from the Goblet of Fire, Viktor spies the figure of young Harry Potter from aboard the Durmstrang ship and makes a decision that will rock the entire wizarding world.
Rating: T
After the First Task
"Padfoot! Put me down!"
"Not a chance in hell!" Sirius let out his barking laugh as his godson dangled a foot in the air, supported only by broad hands under his armpits. Despite Sirius having been on the run for over a year and still being fairly weak, the fact that he was still able to toss Harry around like he wished was altogether too telling. He abruptly clutched the boy to him.
"Don't ever grow up, alright, Harry?" he whispered desperately into the wild black mop. Harry looked up at him, bemused.
"Finally got bored with your play-toy?" he teased.
Sirius barked out another laugh and tossed the boy into the air again. Harry shrieked at him.
"Never!" Sirius cried, while inside, his heart was breaking.
At the Yule Ball
McGonagall swooped over them in a remarkably accurate imitation of Snape.
"I expect you have your dates present-" She drew herself up in shock at seeing only 5 teenagers instead of 8.
Cedric wore a magnificent set of dark gold and bronze-coloured robes. On his arm was a luminous Luna Lovegood sheathed in silver. Behind them stood Fleur Delacour and Harry Potter, although Harry looked more as if he were on Fleur's arm than she on his. The Veela looked absolutely stunning in a pale blue dress with mother-of-pearl inlays. Branimir had sent over more robes with the Bulgarian emblem, so for the night Harry had donned a pair of blue robes just a shade off black that fit him like a glove. And behind themstood Viktor Krum, dark and imposing in a jet ensemble, with only the rearing lions of Bulgaria on his chest lending any colour.
"Mr. Krum!" she exclaimed in astonishment. "Where is your partner?"
Viktor almost cursed her for bringing this up. Harry had been especially hard to convince that Viktor didn't need a date, as he was acting as chaperone for him. It was only when Viktor had agreed to dance with Fleur and Luna that the boy had even relented at all. Harry's lack of self-esteem was getting a little tiresome, but then again they had made noticeable progress in the past two months. And now this damn teacher had to go and ruin it all.
"I am acting as international delegate for Harry Potter," he said brusquely. "I am chaperone tonight."
"Regardless of which-"
Viktor shut her up with a flat glare.
Luna stifled a giggle.
And then the double doors opened, and the four Champions and one date entered the Great Hall.
After opening the Yule Ball with Fleur, Harry immediately handed the sparkling Veela to Viktor, a little pale. Attention and dancing really wasn't his thing. He waved off Viktor's concern and turned to smile at some of the Durmstrang retinue that had taken it upon themselves to rescue him. Viktor immediately relaxed when he saw his childhood friend, the Crown Prince of Bulgaria, approach Harry with a grin and a handshake (1). He knew Harry would be safe with him.
Sirius was there as well, and bounded over to interrupt their conversation. The man had held dual French and British citizenship before his arrest, and after he had been cleared of all charges, had immediately dropped his British citizenship and was in the process of applying for Bulgarian. A tall, pale brunet moved at a slightly more sedate pace to stand beside Sirius. Harry smiled up at him in greeting. That was Sirius's old friend, the werewolf…Remus Lupin, was his name?
He twirled Fleur expertly and dipped her low.
"It 'as been a while since we 'ave done this," she remarked.
Viktor nodded. "De Vinter Ball at Beauxbatons last year, maybe?"
She laughed, her laughter breaking upon the eavesdroppers like crystal shards. "Far too long a time," she said as she wheeled out of his grasp.
In the next dance, he and Cedric switched partners, and he was rather amused by the size of his new dance partner. Luna just came up to mid-chest. She and Harry were, frighteningly enough, about the same height. The tiny blond was an excellent dancer though, and her flighty footwork was quite remarkable. Viktor was amused to discover that even he, who had years upon years of lessons and practice and actually dancing at political balls, had trouble keeping up with her. Luna giggled lightly, almost floating in his arms.
"You should dance with him," she said absently. Viktor almost tripped over his robe for the first time in over a decade.
"I beg your pardon?" They were speaking low enough that they wouldn't be overheard.
Luna beamed at him. "You want to, and he wouldn't mind, not if it's you. You make him feel safe. So you should dance with him."
The dance ended at that point, and Luna whirled away to accost Fleur for a dance. The Veela nearly fell over herself laughing, but then she shot Viktor and Harry a devious glance, and agreed immediately. Cedric pretended to pout, but was grinning too hard to really mean it. He invited a girl from Beauxbatons to dance.
Viktor walked slowly over to Harry. Discretely, the other Durmstrang students began to retreat, causing the boy to look up, and smile warmly at this new interloper.
"Viktor," he greeted, and pressed an iced glass into his hand. "Drink up; you must be thirsty."
To his immense surprise, Viktor realised that he was. He drank deeply. It tasted faintly like lemons and was incredibly refreshing.
"How are you enjoying the Ball? You looked as though you were having fun out there on the dance floor," he teased.
"Actually, dat vas vhy I came over here," Viktor said.
"Oh?"
Viktor took a breath. "Vould you like to dance?"
Harry's green eyes widened behind their lenses. He'd have to do something about those Muggle eyeglasses, Viktor thought absently…
"But I can't dance-"
"It vill be fine," Viktor assured him. He held out his hand to him.
Harry glanced up nervously at him, and then bit his lip. He smiled shyly, before placing his own hand on top of Viktor's. "It would be my pleasure, then," he whispered bashfully.
"Look, Remus, look!" Sirius whispered overloud, eyes bright and even pointing at the two of them. Viktor refrained from rolling his eyes incredulously at the lack of decorum from the Black Lord as Harry flushed pale pink. Remus glanced heavenward and elbowed his friend. Unfortunately for him, Sirius seemed to take this as a suggestion and hauled a protesting Remus out onto the dance floor as well. Harry and Viktor followed, laughing.
Harry didn't really start to relax until near the end of their first dance, so Viktor just said, "Try anoder vone." And Harry did. At the end of it he was laughing happily as Viktor twirled him about on the dance floor. Sirius lit up when he heard the soft strains of his godson's laughter. Harry had so little cause to laugh before…
"You old sap," Remus teased, and Sirius reciprocated by tripping him.
Trapped on the dance floor, neither of them saw Moody accost Karkaroff before he could reach Snape. The Russian looked terrified of the grizzly old Auror, and with good reason: there was a sly smile that looked rather out of place on his hacked up cheeks.
Four dances later, Viktor and Harry stepped off the floor, the younger with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. "Viktor, you're really good at that," he said. "It's much easier to do this dancing thing when you aren't the one leading."
The foreigners who'd overheard him hastily muffled their laughter.
"Viktor," an old familiar voice called, and Viktor turned at once, a rare smile on his lips.
"Father," he greeted the older Krum. A grinning face peeked out behind him. "And Mother as well! What surprises this day has in store for me."
"Yes, I must agree," his mother said cheekily, "After all it is not often I find my son enjoying his time on the dance floor!"
"Yes, love, but that is probably because he did not have the right partner," his father murmured to her, and Viktor's cheeks heated up.
"Where is the dear? We must meet him," his mother gushed to take his mind of things.
Viktor nearly sighed in relief. He guided Harry forward. The boy was blushing, having overheard much of their conversation. He was well on his way to being fluent in Bulgarian, which meant he'd probably understood everything as well.
"Father, Mother, dis is Harry Potter. Harry, dis is my father, Branimir, and my mother, Liliya."
Harry shook their hands. To their surprise, he spoke to them in passable Bulgarian. They had not cast the translation spell this week to see how Harry would handle the transition, and he had taken to it remarkably well. "Hello. It is very pleased to meet you. I am much in debt."
While Branimir waved off his thanks, Liliya had to restrain herself from pouncing on him. "Ooh, he's such a dearheart. Viktor, I want to keep him."
"I have a feeling we will be keeping him, one way or the other," Branimir muttered, and Viktor wanted to bash his head into the nearest wall. It was only ever with his parents that he was made to feel this childlike and inadequate, but he had never once regretted it. Thankfully, Harry didn't seem to have understood the innuendo, going by the innocently confused look on his face.
Liliya smiled and took his arm. "Come, let us leave these stuffy old men. You must dance with me. And don't worry," she overrode his concerns, "I can lead if you are not entirely comfortable with it." Almost at once Harry looked more at ease. He gave her a tremulous smile. Liliya seemed to ignore that one of those 'stuffy old men' was actually her son and led Harry onto the dance floor. Several of the students gave the odd couple strange looks.
"He seems like a good child," Branimir remarked almost casually to his son.
Viktor nodded. "He only ever asked to be a normal child. I do not think he was ever given the chance…except now.""
Branimir burst out laughing. "I hardly think it is normal to be a political refugee in your own country!" He exclaimed. "Not to mention dancing with a Veela, a Quidditch superstar, and the wife of the Bulgarian Minister of Magic!"
Viktor smiled. He had to concede that. "Cedric will probably have his turn as well, if only for laughter's sake," he said, nodding over to where Luna and Fleur's heads were bent together and looking between Cedric and Harry. But it was Harry that inevitably drew his attention back to the dance floor. Liliya handled him marvellously, and Harry was much calmer with being guided. She had even managed to make him laugh a couple of times. Then he looked piercingly at his father. "Father, I must ask, what brings you here? You would normally never attend an occasion like this, not that I am not glad for your presence-"
"But you are right," Branimir conceded. "We would never have come otherwise, if this situation had not arisen. Too many things are at stake."
Fear gripped Viktor's throat. "What do you mean?"
"We are sorry to interrupt this festive night. We can see it has gone some way in healing the wounds from ages past." Branimir allowed a chuckle past his lips as Liliya led Harry over to Cedric and presented him with the younger boy. Harry looked nonplussed, but took Cedric's arm anyway. Then he was too busy laughing to care about how odd they looked. Fleur and Luna danced beside them, keeping a running commentary that had them gasping for breath.
Liliya returned to her husband and son. "Have you told him?" she asked Branimir.
"Told me what?" Viktor's gaze darted from his mother to his father in alarm. He never noticed the worried green eyes that watched him.
Branimir shook his head. "We came here to talk about Voldemort," he said quietly. "We must find some resolution to their fight- we cannot bring this war over to Bulgaria."
The bottom dropped out of Viktor's stomach.
Oh fluff, what would we ever do without you.
About the issue with the wand from the previous chapter, as I have mentioned to some of you, this isn't a magic-heavy fic (the irony, yes, I know). Harry snapping his wand wasn't as relevant to him as it was symbolic- of his trust towards the Horntail, the Champions to protect him in his vulnerability, and as a metaphorical two-finger salute to Dumbledore. As for the Priori Incancatatem effect, Harry is still completely ignorant about that. The impact of the wand-snapping will mostly be felt by Dumbledore, who was the only one who knew the 'true' repercussions of Harry having done something like that. And in case you're wondering about Voldemort- here he is (o:
(1) - I don't know if there truly is a Bulgarian royal family, but in this case I just feel it fits. And he comes up again, later, to play a slightly more pivotal role (o: Cheers.
Names
Liliya – Bulgarian cognate for 'Lily'; commonly associated with purity.
