Disclaimer: I own only my labor, not the means of production.
Warning: You may not like the contents. No one needs to know you've been here.
Author's Note: I hope this is romantic enough.

Summary: Viktor Krum has always loved Fleur Delacour

Submitting Information
Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw
Hogwarts Time Tracker: Term 14- Assignment 1 (Due 22nd Jan 2021)
Hogwarts Subject/Task No.: First Aid: First Aid Treatment for Seizures (Task#1) [Write about someone trying to stop someone else from being harmed.]
Other Hogwarts Challenges: Fantastic Beasts (#194) [Fleur Delacour]; 365 Prompts (#185) [Viktor Krum]; Scavenger Hunt (#21) [Heterosexual Character]
Houses Competition House (Subject): Gryffindor (Herbology)
Houses Competition Round (Category): Round 01 (Standard [1K – 3K])
Houses Competition Prompt: [romantic pairing] Viktor Krum/Fleur Delacour
Word Count: 1369 [Google Docs]

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Viktor's Love
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Viktor Krum's mother was not a part of the ministry. At least she's not technically a part of the ministry. As a former general and now the liaison between the military forces and the ministry, she was frequently at various ministry buildings just as she was at military bases. It was also why she was commonly invited to diplomatic events, some of which were structured for children to attend as well.

It was at one such event that Viktor met Fleur Delacour for the first time.

And he loved her right from that first moment, when she had kicked a kid twice her size in the shin with her fancy indigo kitten heel for picking on a littler one.

Fleur was the oldest child of the French ambassador to Bulgaria. She was the same age as he was. Naturally, their parents decided that it was good for them to spend as much time as possible with each other. It was not so much a betrothal agreement as much as it was an agreement.

Every summer, their families would holiday together in the hope that Fleur and Viktor would eventually see each other in the way that their parents wished.

It was actually not as bad as it sounded. Fleur was fussy about, well, practically everything, but especially her appearance. Even as young children, Viktor could see that Fleur was pretty. She was like the fancy orchids in the solarium at his grandparents, exquisite beauty with a finicky constitution but hardier than than most people expected. Her tongue could cut as easily as it could charm.

The summer that they both received their first wands, they quickly became the terror of the arrogant brats that made up the majority of their social group. Spell casting came naturally to both of them and their parents wisely agreed that they could be tutored together in dueling, despite having no formal school in any wanded magics yet. It was a futile attempt to keep them too occupied to cause too much trouble.

Of course, each was sent to the magical school associated with their region of Europe. While Viktor envied Fleur the fact that Beauxbatons was near the Mediterranean Sea and all the warmth that went with that placement, what he really envied was the social environment she had at the school. She might have a few students who were cruel due to her veela heritage, particularly with how popular Fleur was.

Durmstrang was had the dubious honor of having taught Gellert Grindelwald.

His insidious legacy was bad enough. It tainted the perception that people had of the school and the students matriculated there. The fact that he had been a Quester had his still devout followers carving the symbol in effigy to the man.

But the headmaster had been a Death Eater. The only reason that Karkaroff had not been prosecuted for any crimes related to his work with the terrorist group had been that everything had been contained to the British Isles and the British ministry had never sought the return of criminals fleeing charges after the group had been quelled. Under the leadership of such a man, bigotry grew like vines, twining around the hearts of otherwise decent people.

With his obvious Romani heritage, Viktor was a frequent target for any bigot hoping to make a name for himself. The more he fought and defeated the would-be bullies, the greater the potential status that could be earned for anyone able to show him his place. Viktor had made friends, all of whom were as loyal and fierce as the lions on Bulgaria's coat of arms, but all the fighting still honed the edge that those early dueling lessons with Fleur had given him.

Thin edges were sharp, and he refused to risk cutting his childhood friend with them accidentally.

Fleur did not take kindly to his refusal to duel her the summer after his first year at school. She had screeched at him like the avian form she couldn't quite reach yet due to her youth. She had set his favorite cloak on fire. Then she had stormed out of the room and had pointedly refused to speak directly to him for the rest of the summer.

Viktor made arrangements to stay with a friend for the next summer. Then he got involved with Quidditch, quickly getting drafted into a minor professional league as their seeker. From there, he was placed onto the national team for Bulgaria by the time he was fifteen. He won his first Quidditch World Cup three weeks after he had turned seventeen.

He hadn't seen Fleur since they were twelve, even when he had caught glimpses of the other members of the Delacour family. He had a few clipped news articles about her victories in the dueling circuit. He even kept a picture from one in the pocket watch he had gotten for his seventeenth birthday. It served as a reminder of what he had lost in protecting his friend.

Karkaroff had insisted that Viktor come on the trip to Hogwarts for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. They both knew it was a punishment for sticking the Magical Creatures professor's tongue to the roof of his mouth for what he had said about veela. The marks from the caning he received as well were still healing. He was lucky that his mother was who she was, and it would be too embarrassing to expel him. Instead, Karkaroff was going to keep Viktor close to him.

Fleur had come with the Beauxbatons group.

She had only grown more beautiful since the last time he had seen her. The picture he held so close did not do her justice either. She had since grown into her veela traits, as demonstrated by the pale silvery aura which surrounded her and the way that weaker willed people would trip over themselves in attempts to impress her. They never did, and he knew they probably never would.

Fleur wasn't the type to think titles or fame were impressive. Money wouldn't be useful either, not with how the Delacours were one of the most wealthy families among the European wixen. To catch her attention, a wix had to be outstanding in some way that was their own. Not that she wouldn't turn down gifts of any sort, especially anything sparkling or was soft.

Viktor wondered if she still had the stuffed bunny that he had gotten her for her last birthday before their falling out. Maybe she had set it on fire and pretended it was him. He wouldn't blame her if she had. Their last fight had been vicious in ways that only best friends could be.

When they were both chosen as Champions for their school, it seemed like fate. Magic itself was drawing them back together. They didn't actually have any reason to be in the same space alone until the morning of the first task, and even that had been happenstance.

They had both elected to report to the meeting place early.

"I am still mad at you," she said in French, shattering the tense silence that had been filling the space. "I am not some delicate flower that needs protecting from even the slightest bruise."

"Protecting you is instinctive," he replied in the same language. His stomach felt like it had one of the dragons in it. "I do not know what I would do if you were hurt, and if I were the one to harm you, I would be lost."

"Ugh," she complained, waving her hands, "why must you be so mushy? I am mad at you. It is not allowed!"

"I'm sorry?" Viktor let his confusion color his tone. This was not how he expected this morning to go.

"After this display is done," she said with the air of doing him a great favor, "I will allow you to escort me to dinner in the village so that you may show me how much."

"As you wish," he agreed, too quickly to hide how hopeful the command made him. Needing to face a nesting dragon was the only thing between him and everything he had ever hoped for.

He would do anything for her.

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Fin
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