(Disillusioned and Restricted) Visiting Team Camp, Gour de Tazenat, Puy-de-Dôme, Massif Central
Yards away from the other players' tents, a deceivingly unmarked one stood small, secluded, and easily obstructed – a high caliber bewitchment done well by the Petrovs.
Although this was mainly for the sake of Mira's privacy more than Viktor's, he expressed his appreciation about it nonetheless. The sense of privacy he and his friends are afforded by the old magic was strong enough that not even the most determined fans can get through it. If they were to use his family's tent however, it will surely catch anyone's eye – their family emblem is both iconic as well as a bother for the young wizard.
Inside the mud-washed shelter, pass the various swathes of hanging embroidered, and richly colored fabric – depicting a few favorite animals of the Stoyanovs – Mira coolly watched from a settee in the expanded space as Georgi move to and fro in agitation, mindlessly waving away the large floating bells he's been playing with a while ago. He apparently planned to add some loud clanging to their cheers as an intimidation tactic at the finals against the Quiberon Quafflepunchers, the reigning champions in the European League. Mira doesn't know how he'll be able pull it off but if the number of other instruments he brought along is any indication – she thinks she saw a drumstick or five somewhere – she could see him stir their side of the crowd into frenzy.
Or at least, he'll try.
The teen witch had to duck quickly from instinct when Georgi suddenly turned and flicked his wand at her, realizing a moment later that he was aiming for the stylized gramophone behind her, shutting the louver over the horn to mute the harmonic singing and piano accompaniment – the jazzy tune probably not suiting his cranky mood. Pacing again, the brunette muttered under his breath as his heavy yet muffled footsteps echoed loudly in the 'living room'.
"Gosho, you'll ruin the carpet," scolded Mira, a paper bag crinkled ominously in her grip. Her neck was starting to get stiff from tracing her friend's micro warpath.
"No I won't – I haven't paced enough yet."
Mira grumbled, resting her head on the back of the settee and stared up at the cream-colored canopy lit up by the high noon sun. It's a wonder it didn't add to the heat already emanating from the small working fireplace. Her parents decided to fit it in the family's tent in case any of them needed things delivered to and from their respective homes – the only compromise their parents accepted in order for the Troublesome Tri-ovs to stay together in a foreign country, with only the other players, team coach, and Trainer Valkov as their adult supervision. "You will with those boots on. I don't care if they're dragon hide. Why did you have to get the ones with hobnails at the sole? They're positively outdated!"
Georgi called from over his shoulder, still pacing, "It's called a re-emergence, Mimi. All trends get back in style in one decade or another."
Mira raised her head and a finely shaped brow, "But not in half a century!"
She crossed her arms, the bag still in her hand crinkled again. "You just think they look cool, don't you?"
Georgi smiled and raised his chin in challenge. "What's your point~?"
Mira sighed and just waved at him without care, sensing a useless debate. Instead, she sifted through the contents of the paper bag and took a bite from her gevrek – she's getting hungry too but at least she knows how to curb it in a non-destructive way. "Here, just get one already. Vinko is just delayed. He'll come around. He always does." She shrugged, shaking the bag to offer some of the sesame-covered crispy bread to the other teen.
"You and I both know that he is unnervingly punctual since his existence – I know Aunt Lexi made a joke out of it at one time – especially at meal times. He's never late. Ever! Why do you think we're so early in France, team schedule aside? And how many times must I tell you, Mimi, growing boys have growing stomachs. Our hunger should never be delayed – double entendre not intended," He winked while she boo-ed and gave him double thumbs down. "In fact, we should eat at least five times a day – snacks not included. Something is afoot!" He stressed and took three quick bites to finish off his snack.
Mira scrutinize him with a little more thought. "Have you been reading those English mystery novels again?"
"It helps with my grammar, which benefits our dear Vinko, with his conviction to cast his net, as we discussed before. Focus, Ms. Stoyanova!" Georgi snapped his fingers, making Mira scowl, not appreciating the gesture or the address. "The point is, what if Vinko is out there, all by his lonesome, facing the perils of the pack – " saying this, Georgi turned and summoned his cloak.
" – here we go –"
" – and without you as his enforcer and me as a barrier, he will be entirely vulnerable. You know, as his very good friend, I would die for him – "
" – die to get lady attention – " Mira interjected in a deadpan.
" – for 'he who would accomplish little, need sacrifice little; he who would achieve much must sacrifice much. He who would attain highly must sacrifice greatly.'"
Mira stared, surprised. "Was that Georgov you quoted? Was that discussed in class?"
Georgi pulled back the arm he raised up in dramatic fashion during his spiel, and faced her with arms akimbo. "Oh no. Someone more recent. It's a James Allen. Interesting author that one. But…hmm, good idea! I might recommend him for Sage Class, even if he is mugul."
Mira's expression turned sardonic. "So 'what's your point?'" she parroted back, putting her own arms akimbo.
The dark-haired witch was caught off-guard when Georgi suddenly pulled her up effortlessly by her bent arm – she should have known he'll know that she'll copy him to mock him – and ran out in the blinding sunlight, just quick-witted enough to snag her shoulder bag from the floor.
"We're getting Viktor from wading the onions!"
(Disillusioned) Gour de Tazenat, Puy-de-Dôme, Massif Central
"In trouble, huh? That's not the look of a wizard that's in trouble," Mira whispered, trying to control the amusement she's projecting lease their wayward friend catches on to where they are.
She had been following Georgi and his vague directions for the past fifteen minutes, claiming he knows where the last place Viktor had been when he released the Mirage spell yesterday. Her crafty friend reasoned that if Viktor was comfortable enough to feel a place is safe, he'll naturally take off the stifling sensation of the magic. Although Georgi's ingenious spell work has been proven to be highly effective when used to blend in with the surroundings, the user has to put up with the feeling of being under three layers of fur pelt while it's over them – Georgi admitted he's still tweaking the finer elements of it. She hissed at him ferociously one time when they all had to enter a rowdy tavern undetected for a quick pit stop in Ljubljana for the semi-finals match. She can't really see how Viktor can deal with the stuffy air on an almost daily basis when he's at school avoiding the Highmaster or training before a match but she deduced he made it part of his exercise, both magically and physically – even if it feels like being slow-cooked alive under the height of summer.
And now they're on the forest floor, about a meter outside Viktor's sensing range, nearly crawling on their bellies and sharing a pair of Mira's old omnioculars as they spied the very rare sight of their friend laughing unrestrained with a stranger next to him. After a while of careful study, Georgi frowned, "He's been holding out on me. Which pack does she hail from so I can pick one up for myself."
Mira simply took back her device with one hand before giving her thick-skinned friend a focused, but 'light', kidney shot, making Georgi quietly groan in pain before rolling over on his other side. She sniffed before turning to observe the interesting interaction between her other childhood friend, and a cute little brunette beside him wearing his coat – a feat Viktor has never done with any girl he's had contact with.
Of course, he's always been unfailingly polite with female company, but he's never done any more than what was required of him – like that time when he had to escort some of his female cousins to a holiday party and he glared at the sleazy older wizards who wanted to 'get to know' the companions of the budding Seeker of the Striking Snipes. Or being a helpful presence for his grandmother when she was startled badly by the mugul fireworks display in Sofia a few months back, vanishing the spilt sauce on the older woman's dress with an efficient flicker of his wand and no more.
As far as she knew, he's never felt the inclination of lending anything he owns for the sake of propriety. But by the look of things, the curly-haired girl is being well taken care of – is that a huge chocolate bar? Where in Jarilo's blessed planes did Viktor hid that?! Now Mira's doubly craving.
Thinking back, ever since Viktor had to keep an eye on balancing his schedule for his studies as well as his demanding Quidditch training, he understandably started to neglect his attempts at intimate dealings with girls – no doubt as practice. In her opinion, it is for the better, both for his emotional stability as well as his peace of mind. Oddly enough, she feels like the man in their friendship who has to constantly ground her boys from being carried away by their romantic inclinations – an interesting development given what they were like when they were younger.
Viktor was the shiest in all their Basic Education classes, mostly because he's the tallest – all long limbed and duck-footed, not yet grown into the Krumov physique. He almost always hunched over, trying to be less noticeable, and trying to fit in with the crowd. The girls could easily reach his height at that age but his affliction made him nervous and indecisive around them, no matter how nice or innocent their treatment was.
It's not until Georgi was on the scene when he transferred from another school did Viktor finally come out of his shell and embraced his early growth spurt. The enthusiastic brunette's squeaky gushing about his height as a deterrent for bullies made their Vinko see himself in a new light. It also helped that his father figured out the benefits of Occlumency as not just a shield against intruding minds.
In Mira's case, she's a little bit of an outcast herself among the chatty group of girls in their year. They were more interested in butterfly clips – made from real insects – and the odd velvet hair ties that were all the rage with young muguls than the groundbreaking but painful changes happening in their country after the global wizarding war. Although her family was mercifully safe during that time, the haunted countenance on all of her grandparents' faces made her comprehend quickly that their survival is something they have to be thankful for every day and she shouldn't waste her time on frivolous things. She's learned to be more Spartan in her dress and in her meals, not asking much from her parents – not even gifts for her birthday or in any national holiday. She wanted to be mindful and kept her focus towards not failing in any lesson so she won't burden her family from paying more than they should.
That all changed when her boys noticed the oddity in the little witch with a simple ponytail and simple dress, preferring to play by herself than to rub elbows with the snooty girls out in the field pulling cruel pranks on boys they deem 'ugly'.
Waking from her reverie, she looked through her omniculars again and saw that the shorter girl was trying to give the coat back to Viktor, probably as a trade with the basket he currently has on hand – his arm was stretched away as far away from the girl as he can.
A teasing Viktor? The dark haired witch recognized with a hidden smile. Axa…I haven't seen that side in a long while.
Through the years they've grown up together, they've had their share of relationship ups and downs. Georgi of course with his more open personality, has mingled quite well with any clique of the school, whether it was with the popular kids or the anti-social ones. For her, she tried to explore going out with some boys that were initially interested due to her frugal nature. Eventually she turned them down when she couldn't see herself as anything more than a cheap option for them in the long run. Her mother taught her to give herself more self-respect than that. It helps that Georgi and Viktor have been slowly spoiling her with thoughtful gifts here and there and insider information on what a decent boy should be like that she developed a better standard for her relationships.
And as for Viktor. Well, being a tragicus, he unfortunately – yet poetically – has mostly relationship downs, leaving him more disappointed for every year that pass. It didn't help that his ideal viewpoint on his affliction made his heart more delicate; any girl that didn't match what she shows him outwardly to what they're actually feeling inside for him just adds to his despondency. Over time, it made him cultivate a more standoffish and unfriendly persona, with only she, Georgi, and a select few of his foreign friends from Durmstrang are able to penetrate – with great difficulty really, something which the great Gregorovitch was able to see when he bestowed the tenacious boy a wand made out of Hornbeam.
Very apt indeed.
But right now, with the ease of confidence Viktor is showing this little witch, Mira would have thought they've been friends for as long as their trio have been. So that leaves –
Mira's eyes widened at the thought that struck her like lightning.
Could it be?
She quickly turned to an already recovered Georgi, ignoring the glare and quiet whine he sent her, shaking his shoulder as she excitedly whispered, "Gosho…Gosho! I think that's her. That's the one!"
"One what? That caught a big fish? Yes, I believe so. I wonder how crafty this one was to slip Vinko some Amortentia? I'm sure that obsessive focus in his eye is a symptom."
"No! You've got it entirely wrong. Look there… she's been trying to leave him instead of leading him on somewhere. And instead of giving her, what I assume, her things, he's teasing her with it. That's not something someone under a powerful love potion would act like."
"And you would know this how?"
"I actually paid attention to Potions Brewing class, mister Social Butterfly. Oh wait, you were so busy last term trying to flirt your way into that Romanian girl's skirts that it's a miracle you passed!"
The two went on to bicker heatedly for several long minutes. They were so absorbed by their argument that they neglected to notice the shadow that crept up over them until they heard someone clear their throat overhead. They blinked at each other in surprise before looking forward to a pair of worn but familiar dark footwear. Before long, they slowly inclined their heads to look up and met with the unimpressed face of the heir to the Krumov's vast conservatory.
-{-}-
The hush that fell over the forest was a sudden one after Viktor turned abruptly in the direction of the stadium, making Hermione realize how lively their discussion became after she felt more comfortable in his presence; the pain below her abdomen ebbing significantly. She thought she offended him in some way but since he stubbornly held on to her basket while he walked briskly where he turned his head to, she immediately followed, her curiosity overpowering her ire again.
When she caught up to him after a minute or two of jogging – his long strides were annoyingly efficient in covering a lot more ground than her shorter legs could ever hope for, even if she power walked – she saw him with his head bent down, arms behind his back, and his legs squared resolutely. She raised a brow, speculating again about his formative years to have developed that stance when movement in the grass caught her eye.
Two people, a boy and a girl as far as she can tell, were flat on their stomachs and looking up at him, smiling widely like how Fred and George would if you caught them red-handed. Are they…stalkers of his? They have something that look like a telescope in their hands, so it might not be that far from the truth.
Wait, what if those were wizarding cameras? What if they're some sort of journalists? Have they seen her with Viktor?
A rush of anxiety had Hermione take a step back. She's not sure she's comfortable being speculated on. She knows all the hogwash that could make or break a celebrity – at least in the muggle world – if they're written based on an assumption of what they're doing. Even she unwittingly got duped when she read some rubbish gossip in the muggle papers about an artist she liked. Her parents though made it one of their lessons to teach her about discernment and sound judgment – which, maybe she should employ now before her hormones get the best of her again.
She tentatively moved closer again to Viktor's back – with the young wizard moving his arms to his side when he seemed to sense her approach, making her feel flattered at the thought that he probably was readying himself to protect her – before gathering the courage to tilt her upper body to the side to take a look at the recipients of the rest of his attention.
Her eyes met immediately with a short haired brunette's, his body covered in a velvety green cloak, who's winning smile made her wary instantly, remembering Lockhart. Her apprehension abated when the girl next to him slapped him upside the head. She stood up abruptly, and shook Hermione's unoccupied hand, with her other still holding on to Viktor's large robes.
The older looking girl then gushed something Hermione just stared at in incomprehension before recognizing the name 'Mira'. The younger witch figured she must be the same Mira Viktor was talking about and she must've spoken to her in Bulgarian. Viktor's low chuckle at her staring and quick translation made it more apparent.
"She says 'Good afternoon, how are you? My name is Mira Nikolova Stoyanova.'"
Hermione blinked owlishly. Mira was tall with an athletic built – like a volleyball player, if she didn't know any better – dressed in tight fitting pants, knee-high boots, and a leather jacket – stingray, if she recognized the pattern correctly. Having the telly on most knowledge channels growing up was a brilliant move by her parents, even if her subconsciously acquired information seems useless in the wizarding world. Hermione would have been intimidated by Viktor's friend if not for the wide smile forming on her face the longer she looked over at her, from the top of her curly head down to her black fraying plimsolls. She nonetheless stuttered out self-consciously, "I-it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Hermione Granger."
"Pleasure! back," the taller witch responded with a smile before turning her head to Viktor with a smirk. "A princess? How fitting Vinko."
"Shut up, Mimi," Viktor hissed through clenched teeth, a hint of a blush on the apple of his cheeks.
Wondering what's being said, Hermione didn't notice the brunette from before slip in front of Mira, smoothly taking her hand while introducing himself in impressively less accented English, "And I'm his other close friend, pretty one. At your service. Call me Gosho~" He then bowed over her hand with a flirty wink. Viktor went to unsubtly knock Georgi away with an elbow. "Excuse friend's casual introduction. He is being rude. He is Georgi Vasilov Petrov." Viktor then turned on his heel, and spoke quickly to the other boy in a scolding tone.
Hermione shook off her shock and giggled in spite of herself. Their familiarity reminded her strongly of her own boys' when they rough housed too much, especially after surviving a particularly challenging quiz. She waited until Mira looked over at her again with a helpless shrug before she said, "Tell them no offense taken. It's fine." When the other girl smiled again and opened her mouth to possibly reply, a flutter of yellow and black Swallowtails passed through their little gathering, making Hermione look down at her wristwatch.
"Oh! It's lunchtime. I'm so terribly sorry but I have to go now."
Before any of the Bulgarians recovered from the gentle sweep of the Delacours' familiars, Hermione took the chance to finally snatch up her basket from Viktor's loose hold and replace it with his robes. Despite Viktor's frown, she steeled herself and took a few steps backwards and shyly waved at them.
She very well knew it's rude to cut things off after being introduced to new acquaintances but her socializing battery has run dangerously low – which she's learning to anticipate during her time of the month. She doesn't want to risk embarrassing herself by saying something intolerable and give them the wrong impression – although leaving them hanging could also give them the wrong impression.
Gah! She needs to retreat now before her thoughts run in circles again.
But before she did, she made sure to catch Viktor's eye between the space of a wingbeat, mouthing "see you soon" with a bashful smile before she turned tail and ran with the energy from her hammering heartbeat.
Author's Note: I've been playing a bit on Viktor's description in the books. It's actually very relatable if looked at a different perspective.
To all those that have favorited, bookmarked, or stalked this tip of the iceberg of ideas that I have planned for this pairing, I hope I kept you entertained~ I'm sorry in advance for any more erratic updates. It's both because this month I'll be a little more busy due to work and I'm also trying to reign in my over-editing mind. One path of the story inevitably leads to three or more whenever I think too much, like a sword cutting off the head of a hydra and out comes more.
I'll do my best to make my thoughts more coherent on writing. But then, as long as things move forward, I consider it as good progress.
EDIT 11/15/2020 with requested Translations and Explanation:
Hobnails are essentially nails driven into the soles of military or work boots to provide traction on snow and ice. For soldiers and mountaineers, they were standard issue for literally thousands of years through around the 1950s.
Gevrek - similar to a soft pretzel, or even a bagel, is a chewy, yet soft bread-product, shaped into a ring, dipped in honey and water, topped with sesame seeds and baked.
'wading the onions' (сгазвам лука) - Bulgarian phrase that means 'get in trouble / getting into trouble'
Ljubljana - capital city of Slovenia
Jarilo - Slavic God of Vegetation, Fertility and Springtime. Mira is basically implying Viktor is courting Hermione already.
According to HP wiki, Hornbeam 'selects for its life mate the talented witch or wizard with a single, pure passion, which some might call obsession - more kindly - vision, which will almost always be realised.'
plimsolls - what the British call light, rubber-soled canvas shoes.
Onwards!
Reine