Durmstrang Institute, ?, ? (…Unplottable)
"I know it will be more difficult in the days to come, friend. But you must have more bones in your nose to face the upcoming challenges in life."
Lagging behind a crowd of first years hurrying towards the fleet of boats in the great lake, a befuddled Viktor turned to his calm dorm mate. They were walking leisurely out of the keep, with a bored deildegast levitating their luggage behind them. They made their own way to catch the last ride out to their home countries for the summer.
"Ee? Ás, what are you – "
" – H-hey, good game. Good job, Krumov!" stuttered a passing Latvian year mate, who waved shyly as they walked across the bailey. He soon joined a gathering of his Baltic brothers, who all looked over and smiled, echoing their own support for Viktor.
Viktor gave back a quick smile and wave before swiveling his head back to his friend. "Now Ás – "
"I've watched these games back home. And even there, many fans get too excited. So always keep ice in your stomach – but not literally – especially during winter season.
Wait, I meant the summer season, since more people are willing to watch in person." Asbjørn corrected, with an absent scratch at his chin, dreamy expression unchanging.
Viktor frowned, still staring at the other. After all these years, he could only understand half of what the Norwegian says, even when they use the Institute's common language. Before he could properly decipher, what he thinks, are a series of 'advice', a sudden clasp on his shoulder spun him to the right. He relaxed immediately when greeted by another blonde, tall enough to shoulder him jovially.
"Well done, Viktor. And you even passed your examinations despite the cramming. Keep that determination and it will serve you well."
"It's all thanks to you, Dieter. Your detailed notes were a lifesaver. Merci," Viktor responded with a shake of his head.
The German patted his back good-naturedly, already used to his friend's cultural quirks. He added his own luggage to the boundary ghost's burden with a respectful bow. The specter just nodded his head, almost disappearing under the harsh sunlight that peeked through the clouds.
"Work is the best jacket, as they say, for the cold times. And you wear it well. But just tell us when you need another breather next year, ja? Being a student athlete is not an easy feat. I did not tell you this before but my older brother was the same in his school years and he almost lost his mind."
Viktor's expression cleared, finally comprehending what they've been referring to.
For the past year, he admits – at least to himself – he may have overestimated his capability for time management, after all the unexpected variables he didn't account for.
After a lengthy discussion with his trainer and parents about his upcoming work calendar, he sent a request to Durmstrang – through express falcon – for advance fifth year study materials. He wanted to dedicate time in his school calendar for his new training regime, his new duties at one of the Institute's organizations – the Clash Club were prompt to enlist him after his stunt with the Grindelwald supporters – , and the numerous travels he'll undertake over the weekends.
Trainer Valkov said the team would normally arrive for a match a day earlier, doing last minute prepping to make sure they're physically and mentally ready. Depending on the location, and even when he uses fire travel, he needs to take off either on Thursday evening or Friday mornings, which may affect his classes, if any.
He prefers not sacrificing any of them, if at all possible.
Only after his falcon returned empty-taloned did he remember their High Master's volatile temperament regarding appeals. He'd most likely send back a howler for a sound rejection than grant any one student a favor. Viktor had just solidified a plan on how to defend his case when one of the school's owls arrived a week later. He felt astonished to read his request had been granted with no trouble, more so when he was graced with another visit three days later. A larger owl brought him numerous workbooks, some with highlighted notes that require in-depth self-study. When he sent express letters to his professors in inquiry, most gave the same succinct reason: so he'd have less dorm work to do and more time for his pursuits.
He remained restless, still waiting for the stick behind the carrot. He took a chance and fire called his Martial Magic instructor, hoping his new advisor will be more upfront with him, fire face to fire face. After a moment's hesitance, the information he gave immediately put his family on guard.
Apparently, after the High Master heard about his imminent contract deal with the Striking Snipes – even though Viktor isn't full time, nor is he in the main roster – , he read up on his family name and ancient legacy. And after reviewing his marks, particularly in martial magic, the older wizard handled his paperwork. Personally.
Ivan Krumov suspected the former Death Eater may have plans on doting on his son once he's back at the fortress – for a price. Alexandra meanwhile warns Viktor that it may also be a ploy to get into their good graces. The House of Krumov is still a respected, pureblood line; quite well-known in south and east Europe. And to those in the world who still honor Khan Krum of Bulgaria, they are very close, and very powerful allies of their family. Allies that could offer compelling protection against anything, against anyone –
Even the authorities.
Sooner rather than later, Viktor had a glimpse of Igor Karkaroff's intentions. Barely at the start of term, was he suddenly plucked from the middle of class – with Georgi signaling he'll take care of his bag – and prompted to divulge his short and long term plans at the High Master's office. Viktor was patronized about making their school proud at all times... or else. He was browbeaten about never slacking off…or else. He was coaxed to trust in his High Master, for he can protect Viktor the best…or else.
Knowing the older wizard's history, Viktor wisely kept a neutral expression, thanking him for the consideration in his schoolwork…and nothing else. He remained alert, posture relaxed but muscles tight; limbs and eyes at the ready to react to any movement the High Master may do in his displeasure.
After a long tense minute, High Master Karkaroff merely hummed, tapping idly on his desk, before leaning back against his chair. He then barked an order to report at his office often – to discuss more matters in detail – with a yellow grin that implied absolute obedience. Understanding the threat and dismissal, Viktor gave a polite bow before marching calmly out the door. Only after he was way beyond the range of the office did he loosen his shield over his mind. His Occlumency may be far from perfect but it will do. He had a prior objective when his father started teaching him, but his new situation added to the urgency to refine it.
In the following months, one of the downsides to reporting to the High Master's office on an almost weekly basis immediately came to light: unwanted attention from people, either speculating about favoritism or admiring about getting a career while still in school.
There were days when he's especially sensitive to the polarizing feelings of vitriol, jealousy, and occasional infatuation – but mostly the unexpected desire in the crowded mess hall or walkways, when he lingers. He was desperate enough for peace that he searched and hid in cozy nooks in the fortress during winter. But when the sun tempts him on bright days, he'd climb up to the tops of trees in the densest forest, at the mountain range adjacent the Institute, letting the cool breeze and sounds of nature calm him. He practices building up his inner walls and shields better here.
Despite the social turmoil and added task to his already full list, Viktor took it in stride, outwardly projecting that everything was under control. He took it as an opportunity to understand better the range of a tragicus. His limit so far was between fifteen to twenty meters, which is blessedly a shorter range than he estimated. At least he could avoid most of the chaos from a throng of fans in a stadium when he's far up enough. But then, remembering the various references he read, this range could evolve depending on how long before he found his custodia.
If he could find her at all that is.
And he's confident it's supposed to be a 'she'. As far as he knows, his affliction has not been affected by any male company he has kept since he was born.
And his preference was definitely the female variety.
The other downside to Viktor's unwanted 'office consultations' was the total disarray of his meticulous scheduling. The efforts he made to lighten up his school load during summer break have gone to waste as he still lost sleep trying to catch up on his lessons, projects, and combat practice. The precious time he made for himself was now devoted to listening, for hours, to the High Master's rants, musings, and interrogations. His Quidditch team drills didn't help, as some days, he is required to train after class; to finish by ten or eleven in the evening, and continue to have them every other weekend unless it's game day.
The mental, and emotional strain came to a head when, one early wintry morning, while jogging alongside Dietrich and Georgi, his body gave out from terrible exhaustion. It was a wake-up call for everybody, including himself. His friends realized too late the amount of stress he kept bottled up all this time.
He honestly didn't mean to hide it from them, but it didn't seem like a big deal when the inconvenient times felt small and inconsequential.
Dietrich, Mira, and his mother – through her worry-laced letters – , pointed out those moments may have accumulated to physically affect his body, what his stubborn mind refused to face.
With this in mind, while surrounding his bed in the healing hall, his dorm mates, and best friends coordinated amongst themselves who should accompany him at classes, during breaks, at his trainings, and even at his Quidditch preparations, whenever possible. Mira and Georgi in particular watched over his Occlumency exercises in the forest – they're the only other people that know of his affliction. They even came up with contingency plans whenever the High Master is near; thinking of ways to hide him or give him leeway for an escape. They even bribed the school matron with at least three months' worth supply of healing herbs just so the High Master will not hear of his fall.
Since the healing hall had always run short of important ingredients – due to a twisted view that the Institute's student body is built strong, rendering healing unnecessary for most of the year – the matron happily agreed, stating it's also her way of spiting the cruel man, having been a victim of his misogynistic remarks and unfair budget cuts. Mira vowed passionately on behalf of the group to double the amount of provisions the kind healer needs.
No one protested.
After months of rehabilitation, Viktor's health and schedule stabilized. And even after, they kept up with their routine, acting as Viktor's staunch bodyguards when members from his growing fan club get too touchy feely.
And now, the more Viktor is involved with winning matches in Bulgaria, and being active at the Clash Club's quarterly demonstrations, the more the entire school forgets about favoritism and praises his name like it's completely the norm.
Which is the smallest of concessions, he mused in a deadpan.
"Well, it does feel that way sometimes but I am managing. Wasn't your brother a Potioneer?"
"There are various competitions in that field as well. They equally come with the immense pressure to succeed. For now, you are managing because of us. What if you meet someone along the way – would you have time for her? What if we are away? And what if you get sick again? You are not invincible, Viktor, or perfect – despite what the school has started to believe. All your carefully laid plans in that planner of yours went in shambles. It will happen again if you don't take care of yourself – "
" – keep up the good work, Vitya~!" called a few passing seniors, eyeing them flirtatiously and giggling quietly amongst themselves. Dietrich shook his head, frowning in disapproval.
"They make my next point. You will have to deal with double the attention Bruder had. No, quadruple. Quidditch is not as quiet and small an event as Potion-brewing." He tapped at Viktor's temple lightly, quietly emphasizing his point about mental fortitude.
Seeming to wake up from a daydream, Asbjørn interjected, "Speaking of focus, your position as Seeker was once known as 'Hunter'. It does not matter if you're bigger than an ideal one would be. What is important is that you keep your tongue straight in your mouth always…I don't mean freezing it!"
Viktor did his best to keep a straight face. But he couldn't help the twitch of his brow. "Asbjørn, please stop. You are no longer making sense to me. What are you saying?"
"What's in the way? You are not listening to me properly, Viktor."
Dietrich cleared his throat with a smiling glance at them. "I think I will speak for Ás and myself.
Next year will be our sixth year, a period in our lives which will burden us with the most stress yet, due to various preparations we'll need for our final year. We will all become very busy; you, even more so. That is why we have done our best to lessen the load of your transition: from full time student to part time student - part time sportsman - part time conservationist - part time…whatever else you've been doing.
I will admit, at times it was nerve-wracking to assist you these past months, but it is all in good fun. Ah! Do not give me that look. I'm not saying I regret it. But I am being realistic.
Even accounting for Georgi and Fraulein Stoyanova, they may not always be there for you, even when you're in the same country. Since that is the case, the best place to find a helping hand is at the end of your own arm…
…wait, that did not sound right." Dietrich scrunched up his brows, double checking his translation.
Viktor nearly guffawed, resisting the urge to rub a hand down his face. He will never stop being touched by his friends' care – impressed by their astuteness even – but he's eternally dismayed by their ridiculousness.
He wrapped his arms around their necks before saying, "I appreciate all the help you have given me, especially those times I did feel like dying. Let's just…lessen your words of wisdom and maybe think of other means next time."
"And maybe no drinking when Georgi is involved," Ás intoned sagely, the most sensible counsel he's said to date.
Just then, another saying about speaking about the devil entered their minds as an obnoxiously loud call was heard from the lake. "Vinko! We thought you're dead. You're so slow. Hurry up before they leave us behind!"
The three boys looked up to the previously mentioned Bulgarians next to the plank of a trireme. It's floating steadily next to a karvi and a dromon, who are also waiting for their last few passengers. All three vessels had their anchors pulled up, while the rest of the long boats sunk or has started to sink in their respective whirlpools already.
Viktor flexed his arms briefly for a last friendly squeeze before spinning to bow low to the spectral form behind them, plucking his trunk from the misty air. He marched forward to his assigned boat, slinging his luggage to a waiting deck crew, who caught it swiftly with the net that spewed from his wand and had it floated to Viktor's usual seat.
"Thought we have to tell your father you're going to stay for the summer, Mr. Busy Body." Mira jested, handing him a leather drinking pouch. He was pleasantly surprised to get a splash of elderberry juice on his palate.
"Please no. I've had enough of the dark walls for now. I just had a chat with Dieter and Ás."
Mira raised her brows, looking like she's about to rant. "Honestly? I didn't think they were this supportive after watching you guys fool around in your early years. I'd thought the jealousy would take hold, like the rest of the school. That's discounting your growing fan club – which I'm not happy about by the way. Always harassing me for information. Always. And then it didn't help that the high master was eerily giving you special privileges! "
Viktor's shoulders would have dropped if not for the mischief and relief he can feel underneath her sarcasm.
Mira just waved carelessly, ignoring his amused grin. "Stop that. And don't think on it too much. It was a great time to practice my dodging. My aim for hexes got better too."
"That may be good or bad for us, Vinko," Georgi staged-whispered at his ear.
Mira reached over and slapped at Georgi's shoulder. "You keep forgetting your voice carries to the entire boat when we're below surface, tikvenik."
Uzunbodzhak (Magi) Biosphere Reserve, Strandzha Nature Park, Burgas
Viktor had been lounging on a thick branch of an old tree when he felt a familiar set of emotions.
That's odd, he thought. Mamo never visits at this time and this trail before. And it seems she's not alone.
For the last few centuries, this part of the reserve has been a haven for various restorative flora that is in high demand worldwide by many potioneers, state herbologists, recluse alchemists, and healing institutions. Unfortunately, so do rare ingredients hunters and the occasional endangered species botanists. In the last generation or three, the Krumovs and their associates have improved the control and security of all reserves; anyone that wishes to visit is monitored strictly, this includes their family. Therefore, he couldn't remember reading about his mother – and her guest – visiting this area today.
From what he could sense, the guest is very tranquil and curious while his mother is enthusiastic. He has never felt her feel that way outside of cheering for him during his games or when she's planning family outings, special lunches, or dinners. She only ever felt reserved but polite with most of her clientele.
His curiosity peaked, Viktor touched down with practiced agility and walked silently up to the older women.
When he's within range behind a few clusters of moss covered trees, he can tell that the guest is petite, looking more like a young lady than someone who could be his mother's age. When she turned to view another part of the shrubbery, her profile suggested she's definitely not European, but holds herself like a traditional pureblood lady would: small hands folded together in front of her, shoulders relaxed but confident; back straight like nobility. He could vaguely hear them murmuring something very close to Bulgarian but seems to be off; similar but different.
He froze when he felt eyes on him. He look up to notice the guest eyeing him with a curious smile, still feeling tranquil but with an added flavor of amusement on top. He flushed in embarrassment for getting caught like a stalker but walked towards them anyway to greet them properly.
"Dushichka! We didn't see you there. I forgot this was your favorite space. No matter. Come, come! I would like you to meet someone that might become a frequent visitor here in the future, so please guide her if need be when you're in the area," spoke Alexandra with a big smile. She raised a hand and gestured towards him, "Lady Miya, this is my son, Viktor Ivanov Krumov. He just finished his fifth year in Durmstrang. Vinko, this is Miya Sharma-Lebedeva, under the Great House of Lebedev, from Russia."
There was something nagging at the back of his head when he heard "Great House" and "from Russia". All the same, he bowed smartly, his fisted arm over his chest in a standard salutation of his family before he straightened and said in fluent Russian, "Welcome to the Uzunbodzhak Magibiosphere Reserve, Lady Lebedeva. If you have questions or need a guide, my family and our associates will be glad to give you direction."
For a few moments, the Lady seem to be looking over at him as closely as his father does when they are practicing his Occlumency, but he already checked that his shields have not been breached. Her penetrating stare was still a little intimidating, especially coming from someone who's shorter than him. She smiled suddenly and did an elegant courtesy, as expected from a noble woman. But then she changed her stance and bowed from her waist, with her hands folded together, palm to palm, which surprised both of the Krumovs as they've never seen someone do such a gesture before.
She straightened, palms now folded over her chest, a pleased twinkle in her eyes. "You both are very kind. It is an honor to be granted access, so rare is it ever given to anyone outside of the family. I can already feel the life thriving here.
I hope I do not speak of out of line when I say that this forest, for example, would like to thank you for all the years that you have protected it, for it has long tried to tell you this by bearing fruits and flowers that are of great use, while many of its animals can be of service to you, whether for hunting, carrying packages, or be companions, if you want." She finished with a tilted head, and small smile.
Viktor felt his jaw slackened, wondering how she could possibly claim that the forest...talked…to her. But the only emotions he could feel from her were absolute honesty, her constant tranquility, and apparent delight at delivering this long withheld message. He saw her smile wider and raised a hand and gestured around them.
Knowing it was becoming rude to stare, he spun disbelieving eyes around the forest, seeing the entire flora again with more discernment: he spotted many blooms in this specific place were facing them, like offering their colors and scents for inspection. He took experimental steps towards one flowering vine covering the trunk of a tree and saw that its colors are oddly more vivid than he remembered when he arrived an hour ago.
If what she said was a truth…
He couldn't properly describe what the pang in his heart meant but if it's true, if all these years of protecting the beautiful landscape of his homeland has earned them the privilege to commune with nature –that it has been giving back to them, just seem so…extraordinary, even by magical standards.
Alexandra, on the other hand, was holding back tears, the fingers of one hand were shaking over her mouth, also looking around herself, and using her other to touch a nearby tree in reverence, trying to feel any changes like a glow, or movement on the bark and moss. Nothing really happened but the sounds of nature did become a little quieter, like the gentle coming of the new day – a new understanding.
As one, the Krumovs both turned to the serene lady, her hands folded in front of her again, her subtle jewelry glinting in the light.
Alexandra cleared her throat twice delicately, trying to find her calm. "I do not know what to say, Lady Miya. Your…news…is so…I just, I think I need to inform my husband about this."
Viktor could sense a small hint of sadness coming off the Lady Lebedeva now. "Oh. So I did spoke out of line? I'm terribly sorry. I just couldn't ignore the cries of the trees when I stepped into this area."
"No no. It's not like that but, you said they were…crying?"
"Well, more like…hmm…reaching out. You see in my studies, aside from the domesticated animals, all wild life, including ancient vegetation, has sentience. Many trees here for example have long developed a capacity for perception to know which humans are trustworthy, and who are not.
Apparently, despite your admirable measures of security, there are still some people that are able to sneak into this protected area, usually at the fall of night. But they stop in their tracks when they sense the foreboding irritation of the forest. Thinking they triggered alarms, they run away.
A while ago, they're more focused on giving you some peace, young man. They said when you got back from your travels, which I'm guessing was your months of boarding school, you seem so very tired. They made sure your favorite spot remained undisturbed.
Well, until we showed up." Lady Lebedeva giggled.
Viktor remained stunned, realizing why his mother was comfortable enough to address the lady witch with such familiarity in so short an acquaintance. Even though he's the only tragicus in their immediate family, her genuineness shines through whether one can sense it or not.
After a long but peaceful silence, Viktor tentatively stepped forward and bowed humbly in front of their guest. "Thank you, Lady Lebedeva, for bringing this great sentiment. I am still bewildered but… I think knowing this makes us even more determined to protect it."
Alexandra approached and squeezed her son's shoulder with affection. "This is true. And that's what I meant when I said that I needed to tell my husband about your message. He will be just as thrilled as us, I'm sure. Maybe we'll even research our archives. One of our ancestors might be as nature-sensitive as you and might have written down something." She turned excitedly to her son, seeing him grin at the idea.
Lady Lebedeva clapped her hands in delight. "I am confident you'll find what you're looking for. Maybe that's the reason why you protect it in the first place." She deduced, closing her eyes with a bigger smile.
Mother and son just stared again, dumbfounded, mind blown with the possibilities.
Author's Note: I think I projected my work stress on Viktor by accident. Oops.
But, like Viktor, everything turned out well when a good support system is in place. And I just wanted to emphasize how tough it is for athletic scholars or varsity players to manage their time. With Viktor's fame reaching legendary levels in the books and in the movie, I was sure it didn't start that way like a walk in the park. (edited the structure and added some more content)
I'm glad there are some that are liking my OC. I've enjoyed writing her.
EDIT 10/21/2020 Requested Translation / Explanation:
To have bones in your nose (Å ha bein i nesa) - "To be tough and determined; not afraid to speak up." in Norwegian
deildegast - is a type of ghost connected with the sanctity of boundary stones in Norwegian belief. Try to read them up. I was amused and aghast of the poor soul's fate.
The Baltic Region in Northeast Europe composes of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania.
Ice in one's stomach (Is i magen) - a Norwegian saying that means 'keep you cool; keep calm'
Stick and Carrot - is a metaphor for the use of a combination of reward and punishment to induce a desired behavior. Basically Viktor was waiting for the 'other shoe to drop', so to speak.
Merci (Мерси) - a casual 'thanks' in French. Interestingly, its also widely used in Bulgaria. You can use Blagodarya (Благодаря), which is literally 'giving you a pleasant gift' in Bulgarian; basically a deeper and more formal way of expressing gratitude. But long answer: The use of French and adopting French culture was a trend with the intellectuals and businessmen back then, so it stuck. And short answer: Merci is easier to say and remember.
work is the best jacket (Arbeit ist die beste Jacke) - a German saying that means 'The best way to warm yourself up is by doing something useful'
Ja - 'yes' in German
Bruder (Brúder) - 'brother' in German
Keeping the tongue straight in the mouth (Holde tunga rett i munnen) - a Norwegian saying that means 'to concentrate / focus'
What's in the way? (Hva er i veien?) - a Norwegian expression meaning 'what's wrong?'
tikvenik (Тиквеник) - implied as 'pumpkin-head' in Bulgarian. Equivalent to calling someone an 'airhead'
Mamo (мамо) - 'mom' in Bulgarian; or short term for mother
Dushichka (Душичка) - a term of endearment in Bulgarian. Literally like 'ducky' or 'honey'
Onwards!
Reine