Disclaimer: Not mine. I don't own ANYTHING in this story--what is not mine is owned by my twisted imagination.
THIS STORY IS NOT MY FAULT.
Anyway.
A/N: This is a 'special' fanfic. Just popped out of my head like Athena from Zeus. Don't blame the real me.
Haha. Athena. Haha.
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Oh, wait, narrator (you find out who she is at end) is a bit OOC--but hey, it's a long time from the HP books, right?
Viktor Krum. You want to hear about him? For a bedtime story?
Of course—he's a famous Quidditch player. Harry Potter is more famous, you know. But still Viktor Krum?
Fine, then. Here goes. Don't blame me if you don't like it.
The life-story of Viktor Krum. Hmm. Let's see. It's a tale of romance, tragedy, angst—teen and otherwise—and happiness.
Well, to really begin, I have to tell you kids about his mother. Not his biological mother, no. You know as well as I do that that woman was Death Eater scum. I talk about his mother in love and all that crap.
Gwynhefar Peterson (it's an English name, Peterson, and Viktor isn't British—I told you it wasn't his biological mother) was a pretty girl, yes, pretty enough. She was not beautiful. In fact, she was slightly pudgy around the stomach and the hips. Just a normal girl, sixteen years old at the time of our beginning. She was a muggle, too. But no ordinary muggle.
She was on Lord Voldemort's (remember him from your history lesson, children? The evil man, that's right. This was before Harry Potter defeated him, you know) top ten hit list. So, she was taken in by the wizarding community.
What, children? You want to know why she was on Voldemort's hit list? Let's just say that she wasn't as non-magical as everyone thought…she could do magic, just not our kind. A kind where you have to want something to happen so much that it does. You can control that, now. That was what she did. Normal wizards can't do that, children. So that is why.
Anyway, Gwynhefar (she liked to be called Gwyn—I knew her when I was young) was taken to a new wizarding shelter, inhabited by several Aurors. Their names were Sirius Black, and Mr. and Mrs. James Potter. They were Harry Potter's parents, remember? And his godfather? Oh dear, children, you really need to pay more attention in History class.
So Gwyn was sheltered by these three people, and eventually she became very good friends with Lily and James Potter and fell in love with Sirius Black. Incidentally, Sirius fell in love with her as well. But they never really told each other. Gwyn was too shy and Sirius was too insecure in this new feeling—he had never really loved a woman before—but maybe you kids are too young to understand. No? Well, then you have to be quieter, little ones, or I'll stop your story and send you right off to bed.
Well, Harry Potter was born, and Lily and James Potter went off into hiding. And the rest is as you learned in History class—what? I said you needed to pay more attention…
You should know it, so I won't tell you this, children. No matter what you say.
You'd give me hugs and kisses, children? Oh well. All right.
The Potters assigned Sirius to be their Secret-Keeper, and they secretly switched the job to Peter Pettigrew, the little rat.
Oh, I'm so sorry, dear, did my spit miss the floor and hit you? Oh deary me.
Not even Gwyn knew. And when the Potters were killed, she had to go into hiding again, because there were many Death Eaters who wanted to finish their master's business, even though he was dead. I'm talking about Lord Voldemort, you dim little tykes, you. Of course.
She settled down in Bulgaria, and was very depressed for a while, because it appeared that Sirius—her one true love—had betrayed them all. So she threw herself into work, researching ancient spells of all kinds—not just our kind, you know.
And then, a couple of months after she went to Bulgaria, she found a little boy on her doorstep, cuddling a little rag and sucking his thumb.
Yes! Children! Yes, it was Viktor Krum! Calm down, little children—hey! Get that pack of Madam Mopsy's A-P Mess Remover away from me! Yes, you!
There we go. All nice and calm.
Gwyn took in the little boy—he was a little under three—and became his mother. It quite took away her depression, and she and Viktor Krum loved each other very much—not in that way, little fools! If you don't stop interrupting, it'll be bedtime for small children!
So, Viktor grew up, and he became a wizard. Gwyn made sure that he was not to become a Death Eater by telling him everything. Like the fact that he had been thrown out of his house by his Death Eater parents, because they didn't want him an eighth child. Viktor did not become a Death Eater.
One day, though, Viktor was on vacation in the summer—he was about fifteen or sixteen, then—and he saw Gwyn lying on the couch, shocked. It turned out that she had fainted when she found out that Sirius had escaped—and what he looked like. Viktor and Gwyn grew even closer, because of their various romantic entanglements.
See, Viktor—oh, I mustn't say this, not a sound for young ears—oh, what the hell, kids, just don't tell your mother I said this—and don't ask any questions. Well, Viktor had had very many girlfriends once he became famous for Quidditch—which was very quickly.
The first one he brought home was a fangirl whore—no offense—and Gwyn fell over laughing at the first word that came out of that girl's mouth. That word was 'like—'
It was quite a while before Viktor shared the little romances with his mother again. Really, it was after he found out about Sirius fully that he did. Evidently he thought that he wasn't the only one with bad taste.
Remember that famous Tri-Wizard Tournament? Yes, yes, Viktor Krum was in it—but also the one where Lord Voldemort came back? History, history, dears.
Gwyn was scared out of her mind with the whole ordeal, and especially so when Viktor got put under the Imperius and was made to torture Cedric Diggory—remember him? We saw his picture, right? The very handsome one, right.
Fortunately for Gwyn's state of mind, Remus Lupin—oh, you must remember him. Headmaster of Hogwarts, where you're going next year? Yes, a werewolf, poor man. So, Remus Lupin made contact with Gwyn, and told her the true story about Sirius. But Dumbledore—good man, but made many mistakes in that lifetime—said that he didn't want a muggle around.
Viktor grew up more, and he realized that he was in love with Gabrielle Delacour—remember, Fleur Delacour-Weasley's little sister? Yes. Good.
They went out for a year. Hermione Granger-Weasley turned out to be only a very good friend, in the end—because she was in love with Ron Weasley—remember? Her husband? Oh, yes. Good thing you have your grandma on hand to explain everything to you.
Remus also contacted Gwyn when Sirius died. Remembering something from her studies, Gwyn went into a frantic period of work—of which I will tell you later. Don't want to hear about it? Too bad, my grandchildren, you little brats. Yes, I love you.
Anyway, Viktor proposed to Gabrielle right after Harry Potter killed Voldemort—you know that, right? Please? Oh, thank goodness. I was truly worried for a whi—what! All those times when you didn't know these things, you were just playing with my mind! Oh, bedtime—bedtime—all right, I'll finish. Don't tell your mother.
A month after that, Gwyn's research paid off, and she found a resurrection spell. All it needed was Sirius' murderer…who was in Azkaban, Bellatrix Lestrange.
Gwyn gathered Sirius' closest friends, and performed the ritual. Bellatrix Lestrange stumbled in, and Sirius Black stumbled out, looking healthier than when he'd died.
Immediately, Sirius and Gwyn had a little romantic moment, where they said they loved each other, and swore at each other, and kissed each other…then Sirius was brought up to date on everything. He met Viktor, and Viktor was deliriously happy to have a father and friend such as Sirius.
Thus, everyone lived happily ever after, Viktor and Gabrielle Krum, and Sirius and Gwyn Black.
There. It's far past your bedtime, now. Up! Up! Quickly! If your mum comes home and finds you up, we'll be in trouble, or my name's not Luna Lovegood-Longbottom! Up! Pajamas! Now! Little stinkers!
Ah. Relaxation. Hopefully my daughter won't yell at me too much.
