Nebet Tepe, Old Town, Plovdiv
"We should have known you'd be here, Vinko," a soft utterance.
"Yeah! You can't ditch us like that," a brazen call.
A sharp smack was heard before the first voice continued. "We heard about the news. Want to talk about it?"
"Viktor. We. Had. A plan.," a single clap punctuated each word, "You stay in one place and brood – attracting the girls. Then, when you shoot them down or you are just a general disappointment, I'll swoop in and sweep them off their feet...!"
"Vse edno, Gosho. Quit thinking with the head in your pants instead of the one on your shoulders. Vinko would never – "
"Mimi, Viktor and I are very healthy men – "
" – sixteen year old boys – "
" – so we can't waste our youth for nothing! Especially now he's making a name for himself…or about to, ne? And as the best friend – what reflects on him, reflects on me.
We must embrace our duty to all women when the world at large knows of us…!"
"Ha! You only wish that women stick to you like flies to honey, Georgi Petrov."
"And if you aren't as stubborn as a donkey on a bridge, you'd have better luck with the men, Mira Stoyanova."
An exasperated sigh went unheard as the figure lounging on a high tree limb listened to the bickering below.
Viktor looked down at the golden ball he's been playing with for the nth time, ruminating on his leftover summer assignments. Then his daily rounds at the conservatory – he's been hearing about a squabble with the magical beings by the river. He also has his weekly music lessons that have yet to reach 'perfection' – as his dramatic tutor would put it. And if that wasn't enough, he now has to add in strength and stamina training for his new occupation.
Or future occupation…if he so wishes it. He'll definitely need a larger day planner to accommodate it nonetheless.
It all started when he and a few classmates planned a free-for-all Quidditch game a few weeks ago, celebrating the end of a grueling school year – and by that he did not mean the examinations. Viktor was not ashamed to feel a dark sense of satisfaction even now from beating those fanatics during the fourth tiered Combat test. He would have challenged the older students who were part of the Circle as well, so great was his anger at that time, but good thing there were upperclassmen who felt the same righteous fury as he.
He shook his head, focusing on his current…situation.
He blames Georgi entirely.
During a break in the game, just to make things more interesting, some of the boys tweaked the enchantments on the Bludgers and added more menace in their hits when they get batted into players by the Beaters; they declared that Chasers can only use their dominate arms to control the Quaffle, and Keepers can only block using one leg.
For Viktor's preferred position, despite his size, it was unanimously agreed – except the appointed Seekers themselves – that they will hunt the Snitch that's released into the wizard's side of the city neighboring the perimeter of their school. Whoever manages to come back with the little ball wins the game – no matter the score. Whatever time that might be.
No pressure. At all.
For one thing, 'neighboring' is a bit of a stretch when describing the many many many leagues the distance was from point A to point B – wherever this might be as the Snitch can be absolutely anywhere in such a large radius.
Viktor will admit to the idiocy of such a scheme and would have protested if not for Georgi's quiet words to him that was part taunt and part encouragement, feeding into Viktor's strong sense of competitiveness and pride of the thought of bringing glory for his team – even if it's just bragging rights.
It was not his proudest moment when he agreed right away – still on a high from his victory against the imbeciles who thought themselves impressive. Neo-Acolytes of the 'The New Circle', they call themselves. Tikvenik. The lot of them.
He only thought at the last minute of the repercussions of their recklessness, as the combination of such a rowdy game and idiot boys would naturally end to. But as they say: you put your hood on after the rain. It is a good and a bad thing that wasn't literal as the weather was a sunlit summer's day; the only type of weather Viktor would be willing to fly in for several hours. The heat of the sun kept them warm despite the sharp wind that pelted their faces. He and the other Seeker had to push their brooms in order to get into the city and back out within the day.
Accidents occurred overall of course but only miss calls and non-fatal injuries. For Viktor though, it wasn't quite an accident as it was a discovery that led to an opportunity. In fact, it might have been considered the best and worst thing that could ever happen to him.
He still blames Georgi.
When he and his classmate finally arrived around mid-afternoon in the mercifully uncrowded streets, they pragmatically went to get some food to-go, since they missed lunch entirely during their journey, and had extra in case they skip dinner on the way back.
And right at the perfect moment when their meal settled in their stomachs, a whirling buzz shot away next to their seated forms at the restaurant's patio. Viktor immediately took off on his broom and zipped to the flash of gold, barely getting his goggles on properly. He passed by endless buildings, homes, and streets, disturbing some wayward witches and wizards doing their last minute shopping who were just fast enough to get out of his way.
Half an hour before sunset, Viktor finally caught the elusive Snitch that made him do a freefall from the clouds and straight down towards the ground at breakneck speeds. He stopped mere inches from the earth, a maneuver that could only be achieved with both his trusty Comet 260's Braking Charm and his determined handling of it.
Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he righted himself smoothly, arm still outstretched up in triumph, letting the waning sunlight glint off of the little ball through his fingers. Everything was a blur around him as his focus was still on his catch until he heard someone calling his name.
"Förbaskat! Viktor, you're insane! But at least you caught it. Good job. Can we go now? I'm getting hungry again," said his Swedish classmate jovially, his hand in a circling gesture over his stomach.
"Were you even trying to find it?" asked Viktor with a flat look, sweat sliding down the sides of his face, with air-blown, matted hair still stuck in all directions. A familiar feeling of exasperation replaced his high.
The other's smile turned sheepish. "Not really. Förlåt. In truth, I waited for you to get it. Your game face is ferocious, you know? But I bought us some snacks while watching you on the rooftops. Nice dive by the way."
"Honestly, you eat like a bear and work like a bug. Literally and figuratively. But thank you."
"I don't entirely understand what you're saying but it's going to be a colder journey back to the guys if you start your Bulgariska ranting now."
"A? Ne. No. It's a saying and it means…never mind. I don't know how to translate it better." Sometimes Viktor wonders why he has such crazy yet lazy friends. But it's too late to get rid of them now, he muses with a small smile and a shake of his head. They may be lazy sometimes but they're loyal to a fault. He won't forget their 'intervention' at the dorm after they've also seen the marks on those students' notebooks. As grateful as he is for their support, he still sent his mother advance warning to not entertain them at their home without him present, if they ever got into their heads to do a surprise visit. They might take advantage of her generosity. And their food. They'll definitely run out of food.
"Let's rehydrate at that place before we go," Viktor suggested, nodding at the small bistro ahead of them. He attempted to right his hair and wiped his face with a cleaning charm, his other hand held his broomstick up after his dismount. His classmate simply agreed.
After ordering a few glasses of water and some more snacks, the owner generously gave them a healthy portion of modified Peppering Up potions – that wouldn't cause as much steam to come out of their ears as a regular one – for free for giving their quiet street a little entertainment for a change. They heartily gave their appreciation before they flew off.
A few days later, Viktor and his triumphant teammates floo-ed through the fire place of the quaint bistro. Apparently, one of them has gone there before and told them of the owner's well-known generous nature in the community – a detriment to his business at a certain extent. He suggested they go there for their celebratory feast to give aid through their patronage.
By the end of the meal, they all agreed to add a little more in their tips and payment for both their waitress, who was the owner's wife, and the owner, who both served their food with smiles on their faces despite the lunch rush. Conversation continued as the boys were enthusiastically comparing anecdotes on this-and-that that happened at school and reported on – not gossiped! – about some hijinks some second years did in the lake.
All things considered, Viktor did well keeping his composure in a crowd this time, even as the beginnings of a headache slowly seeped into his conscious. He focused on taking in one conversation at a time at their table, forcing the mental exercise to overcome his ailment.
He almost cracked though when a few flirtatious girls went up to them to socialize. He's been practicing 'managing' his condition for some time now and he guessed it's not yet enough since the sudden onslaught of loud emotions coming off of the girls had him internally reeling. It didn't help that the corner of the restaurant they settled themselves in earlier made it easier for the girls to box them in. It was a small mercy that he took a window seat.
He blinked slowly, concentrating on taking quiet, deep breathes before he built up a feeble barrier around his mind, doing his best to remember the steps his father taught him. They both knew it will take Viktor a little longer to be a good Occlumens but it's the only useful skill they can develop in him while he hasn't found his Custodia yet. He was aware enough to politely nod to the new people but kept his silence all throughout, letting his friends do the talking. He ignored any inquiries that might have gone his way by looking outside, people watching.
And there, across the street, he spotted someone waving at his general direction. He furrowed his brow before taking a discreet glance back at his seatmates. They all seem occupied with each other still. He inclined his head back at the stranger.
It took him a few seconds of studying the oddly familiar person's built, face, and casual wear before his eyes widened in stunned comprehension and wonder: it was Captain Branimir Valkov of the Striking Snipes, the undefeatable Keeper; a local legend in his city.
His heart sped up but outwardly nonchalant, Viktor slowly straightened his spine. He watched as the retired captain made a small beckoning gesture before walking off into the direction Viktor vaguely remembered where he caught the Snitch.
He could see in his periphery that Georgi noticed his changed posture so he kept enthralling the ladies, trusting Viktor to tell him what caught his attention later. Viktor nodded his thanks before casually announcing he needs to stretch his legs before leaving the establishment in time to see the old Keeper waiting meters ahead, head inclined and a ready smile welcoming him forward.
Viktor knew to keep his guard up despite the cheery sunny day and moderate foot traffic. He would be a disgrace to the Institute if he didn't. His father would definitely peel his hide off if he found out he was being careless. He somewhat forgave Viktor already for his 'episode' at school, sympathizing even. But anything else that might result in self-inflicted harm will not make his father happy. And if that happens, he'll definitely tattle Viktor on mamo, which will cause a chain reaction of coddling he is sure he has grown out of already.
Viktor is also sure he's had enough of the rakia and draught mix his mother uses as traditional remedy to pamper him into submission to last a life time. The last time he was sick for a week, he needed to bathe twice just to get rid of the smell on his skin, lest he'd be accused of being a drunkard at age nine.
He took his time now to ready his mind and made sure to keep his wand in easy reach before following the friendly looking wizard to where he stood.
"Dobar den. I am Branimir Valkov, former Captain of the Striking Snipes. But you already know that, don't you?" he asked rhetorically with a bow and a raised eyebrow.
"I am also from Plovdiv," Viktor explained, maintaining eye contact while shaking hands with the older wizard after bowing back.
"Good. That makes things easier then."
"Ee?"
Mr. Valkov's smiled widely and proceeded to change Viktor's life around.
Coming back to the present, still hearing the squabbling duo below, Viktor despaired. He didn't imagine being offered a place in a local Quidditch team, his favorite at that, through sheer dumb luck. He planned to work for it – when he was out of school and mentally ready – arrange some personal training, do try outs; show his talents through hard work. Maybe then he wouldn't feel as if he cheated his way in.
How was he supposed to know that his stunt at a random country, at a random city, at a random street, in the middle of the day would catch the attention of a national player that mindlessly read a sports magazine on a bench, taking a vacation after being downtrodden over his injuries that made him permanently unable to play anymore?
Then again, Viktor's school robes were fairly eye-catching. And the older wizard does deserve his downtime after many years of hard work. Viktor felt grateful that he was given an opportunity that is rarely bestowed upon anyone, especially to someone who is still a student.
Viktor smiled as he recollected the excitement on the retired player's face; he offered to personally train Viktor before the try outs on the first week of July – for a place on the reserve team at least. The Quidditch season is from August to April and even if he qualified, he can't play unless the matches are on the weekend. He wouldn't want to jeopardize his studies even for this.
Another thing he's considering is his exposure to bigger crowds once he's become successful – he's certain of this. He's training to be a good player, if not the best – being trained by the best. He still had plans after he graduates that needs to be adjusted. If he played his cards right and he manages to go international…
He tapped gently on the little ball on his hand, activating its charm. Its wings unfolding gracefully before flitting up, hovering like a hummingbird near his head. He leaned his head back on the trunk of the tree, the argument below finally winding down as his friends turned their combined attention back to him.
The fact remains that Mr. Valkov, or should he say Trainer Valkov, has honored him greatly for this chance. What other way can he reciprocate that than to be the finest Quidditch player than he can be?
Krumov Ancestral Estate, Acropolis of Plovdiv
"Dushichka, is that you? Is Mira and Georgi with you?" a soft voice called near the receiving room as the trio carefully laid out their shoes in the foyer before greeting the older witch with hugs and kisses.
"Yes, mamo. They heard about my training."
"Which you still haven't told us details about. Rude," said Georgi playfully.
"What are you, four?" Mira rebutted. "But I agree. We really want to know. How long has this been going on? Gosho only told me about you meeting the Branimir Valkov and your stupid bet with the others that led to this meeting."
Alexandra Krumova laughed, highly amused at the exchange, before informing the teens that she'll have something prepared for them to nibble on for their conversation. She has an appointment with some Herbologists in an hour and she won't be able to see them off later.
"Don't worry, mamo, I'll take care of them. Unwind at the garden after your appointment. See you at dinner."
Alexandra kissed her son's cheek affectionately while smoothing out his hair, before gliding pass them to the long hallway. When she reached a mounted little picture frame, she instructed the painted figure to bring up some Lukanka, Sirene and iced peach juice to the receiving room. The waif of a girl in the picture did a curtsy before going to her other painting in the kitchen.
At times like this, Alexandra mused, she's thankful Viktor has his friends.
The lady witch frowned delicately, brows down in worry while she kept her steady pace to their home's apparition point. Alexandra knows once her son has decided on something, his pursuit is absolute, his will indomitable. Just like his decision to attend the Institute despite its current reputation, and a former student's transgression against their family.
But to this, she felt proud. Viktor's fearlessness is very much akin to her father-in-law's, she wispily lamented. She bowed her head in respect and murmured a small prayer.
On the other hand, the madam does not see the wisdom of this… endeavor yet, knowing her son will lose his privacy if his success causes him to become a celebrity. He will need to overcome this new hurdle. All she can do for now is have faith and support him the best she can.
And to this, Alexandra thought with a knowing smile, she'll do what a mother does best.
"Well." Mira said, staring at Viktor in amazement. "You'll need a larger day planner."
"That's exactly what I told myself."
The brunette frowned, fingers playing with a bit of the brined cheese she was pecking on. Viktor picked up on slivers of her uneasiness and assured her, "I'll approach things one step at a time, Mimi. School and the conservatory are still my top priority."
The frown turned into a scowl, although it was more resigned than angry, "I hate when you do that."
"I'm sorry. You know I can't help it."
"For now, my friend. And this is exactly why we should stick with my original plan," Georgi told them smugly, lounging in one of the settee and sipping from his goblet like a Hellenic lord.
Or a big fat cat with an overflowing milk bowl, Mira thought.
"How will you playing as a 'ladies' man' help me, Gosho?" Viktor raised his eyebrows while crossing his arms.
This should be good.
Georgi tutted while wagging his index finger at them. "'Oh ye of little faith, ye petty fidians.' You still underestimate my genius. We all know Viktor's little problem. But it's only a problem if we don't make an effort – "
" – did you just call us atheists?" Viktor interrupted in a deadpan. Mira cackled.
"I did? I just read it somewhere. It sounded cool.
Ack! Never mind that. As I was saying. My plan is my way of putting forth an effort into solving your dilemma, Vinko. My plan may seem like it benefits me, but it benefits you the most. It will: a) Get you to master Occlumency faster and b) 'widens your net', so to speak."
"I have been practicing my Occlumency," Viktor said defensively.
"That's not what it looked like at the restaurant." Georgi disproved with raised brows.
"…go on."
Georgi smiled magnanimously after popping a bit of meat and cheese in his mouth. "Look, this is my theory. Even if you practice all you want with Mira, or even your mother, or even your baba – the long-term problem is: you'll get used to them. You'll get used to the sensation of their feelings whenever they interact with you; And like habit, you won't notice it anymore. They'll still be there but it might not register anymore that feeling those emotions will be alien.
Or think about our martial magic. Sure at first our sore muscles would hurt like we've been dancing in our funeral pyres during training but the longer we stick to our workouts and exercises, the better our bodies adapt to the strain and pressure. Before, a thirty minute lap around the fortress would leave us breathless. Doing it over and over again becomes a non-issue.
Although I do not appreciate how much of a slave-driver the professor is," added Georgi with a shiver.
"So, you're saying…if Viktor becomes more exposed to different girls and women, he'll be pressured to improve his mental fortitude," Mira summarized slowly with a contemplative mien.
"And when I make it to the international league, it may better my chances of finding my Custodia." Viktor said in agreement. Being a better Occlumens and a famous player will be a bonus.
"Axa! Confident, aren't we?" Georgi waggled his eyebrows with a cheesy grin.
"If Valkov's training and my performance take me that far, I will take it," Viktor said with finality, determination reaching his eyes as he tightened his hand on the arm of his chair.
Mira and Georgi regarded him with smiling faces before reaching over to close their hands over his fist. "And we'll be there to cheer you on, champ."
"So will your mother and I."
The teens all jolted up from their seats, turning to face the source of the new voice.
Viktor's father leaned on the archway of the room. His face was a perfect mask of indifference but the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his mirth.
The boys bowed sharply while the only girl curtseyed with a small wobble, still unused to the gesture. She'd rather bow but her own mamo would kill her for not showing proper respect to the Krumov patriarch.
Ivan Krumov cut a sharp figure as he straightened his stance and walked towards them – a quiet authority surrounding him. Viktor's features reflect heavily his father's but where his eyes are dark like his mother's, Ivan's are glacial blues. It can be especially unnerving when you're on the wrong side of those eyes.
Viktor has yet to reach his father's height and built, as Krumov men are known for compared to the average Plovdivian. He does not mind this though. He consoled himself that he's fairly tall for his age himself, at least compared to Georgi and his yearmates – even though given his yearmates are from different parts of Europe.
He may consider developing his musculature later on though. That could be something he'll have over his father, Viktor thought in amusement.
"I commend you two for being considerate and helpful to our Viktor." Mr. Krumov said, grasping his son's shoulder affectionately before turning to face them. "You honor us, but especially Viktor, with your friendship."
Mira blushed while shyly dismissing the praise. Georgi though preened although with subdued energy – he's heard rumors of the legendary Krumov temper, if Viktor's own at school with the Grindelwald supporters was a small indication of it.
"What you all thought is what I have been anticipating the moment you told your mother and I of Trainer Valkov's willingness to have you under his wing. It is a certainty that you will do great things, as you yourself determine it to be. We will be here for you son, with whatever you need." Ivan smiled supportively, hand tightening on Viktor's shoulder as emphasis.
And to this, Viktor thought, everything will be alright.
Author's Note: This was a fun chapter. I always wondered how Viktor came to be. I know he has friends so I don't exactly agree with some theories that say he doesn't have any, which is the only reason Hermione became the 'one who he'll miss the most'. Maybe there are other reasons why that is :3 (Edited some parts of this chapter to make the conversations flow better.)
And in case you got confused: Just imagine Viktor converses with his friends and family in Bulgarian, while switching to a common one with the Durmstrang students.
EDIT: 10/13/2020 Requested Translation / Explanation:
Ne - 'no' in Bulgarian
Vse edno (Все едно) - 'Whatever' in Bulgarian. Used when you're particularly annoyed.
"And if you aren't as stubborn as a donkey on a bridge" - it's from the Bulgarian saying 'Запънал се като магаре на мост' (Zapŭnal se kato magare na most - He is as stubborn as a donkey on a bridge or He stumbled like a donkey on a bridge). Kinda self explanatory.
Neo-Acolytes (of the New Circle) - its what I call Durmstrang students that still admire Gellert Grindelwald. His organization was called 'The Alliance' while his inner circle call themselves his 'Acolytes'.
Tikvenik - 'pumpkin-head' in Bulgarian. Akin to calling someone an airhead
you put your hood on after the rain - from the Bulgarian saying След дъжд – качулка (Sled dŭzhd – kachulka - after rain - hood). Its Viktor's way of saying 'It's too late'.
Förbaskat - 'damn' in Swedish. Or something of that equivalent
Förlåt. - 'Sorry' in Swedish
you eat like a bear and work like a bug - from the Bulgarian saying Яде като мечка, работи като буболечка (Yade kato mechka, raboti kato bubolechka). Viktor's saying his classmate is lazy.
Even though it's a drink, Rakia, as it turns out, is used like the equivalent of using Tiger Balm or Vicks on Asian children by their mothers - the be-all end-all remedy for pretty much anything. You have a headache? Rub it on. You vomited? Rub it on. You have the flu? Rub it on your feet and put socks on.
Dobar den(Добър ден) - 'Hello' in Bulgarian
Dushichka (Душичка) - it means 'duck' in Bulgarian. It's Viktor's mother's affectionate nickname for him
mamo (мамо) - 'mom' in Bulgarian. Short for maĭka (майка - mother)
baba (баба) - 'granny / grandma' in Bulgarian.
Onwards!
Reine