Notes: Hi there! Sorry for the longer wait than usual, these chapters just seem to keep getting longer and longer. No beta this week, sadly, so again I apologize for any and all mistakes of any kind. Hope you enjoy!
Thirty-Seven Galleons, Fifteen Sickles, Three Knuts ~ Hogwarts
Chapter 3: A Strange Case of Fate
He awoke the next morning, his head clearer.
His dreams had been interspersed with the mysterious girl, but as he lay in his bed, he realized how ridiculous it was.
Viktor knew nothing about her and as tempting as it was to search her out, he wondered if it would be better to leave the mystery as it was. She could be as flighty and brainless as the girls who screeched proclamations of love to him at his Quidditch matches or haughty and proud like the girls at his school or, worse still, cruel and prejudiced, like the blonde boy at dinner.
Yes. It would be best if the girl remained a mystery. He resolved not to look for her, preferring to leave his memory, his idealized dream of a girl, untarnished.
Besides, how crazy would it seem if he approached her? How would he begin?
Hello, I saw you at the Quidditch Cup. We never spoke, but the brightness of your eyes entranced me?
Even to himself, he sounded like an idiot.
And of course, she might not be interested in him; or worse, only interested in his fame, his fortune. She wouldn't have been the first.
No. He would leave it. As he already decided he would. And should he come across her again…well, he couldn't help if his stomach hummed at the sight of her, but it would pass, and he would treat her as he would treat any stranger.
A swift knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. He rose, simply pulling on the robes from the night before and opened the door. Professor Karkaroff stood in the corridor wrapped in his glistening silver furs.
"Wonderful, Viktor! Already up I see." His headmaster's eyes were twinkling with pride. "I knew you would be excited to get this done. Come, come, I've already gathered the others. Grab your cloak and we'll be off."
He handed Viktor a slip of paper and headed down the corridor to the ship's plank. It read,
Viktor Krum
Durmstrang
in Karkaroff's blocky script.
Viktor turned back into his room, pulling his cloak from where it lay on the floor, amazed how the presence of this girl could push everything from his mind. His sole reason for being at Hogwarts, the Triwizard Tournament, had fled from his brain entirely. Even at the Quidditch Cup, he'd somehow fleetingly forgotten his immediate defeat at the sight of her.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply. He had to focus. Girl or no, he had a Tournament to win.
He grimaced, closing the door to his room and heading down the hall. Since Serge's comment about the impartial judge, Viktor couldn't deny he'd considered the possibility of not being chosen as champion. The Goblet of Fire had only increased his worries.
At first, Viktor had agreed mostly to satisfy Karkaroff. However, after all his preparation, Viktor wanted to compete. Expected it even, as presumptuous as it was.
But as it stood, he had just as high a chance of being selected as any of the others, even if he did have Karkaroff's blessing.
Seeing Viktor join the group, the Dumstrang Headmaster began the trek up the wide lawn to the castle.
The sun was just rising over the mountains throwing a golden sheen across the grounds. The lake reflected the rising light and the windows of the castle glittered, as they made their way through the massive oak doors.
Danyal fell in stride beside Viktor as they crossed the entrance hall.
"I considered writing your name instead of mine," Viktor's eyebrow rose at Danyal's comment, but his Russian classmate did not feel the need to elaborate further.
The castle was still quiet and it occurred to Viktor that the Hogwarts students might not choose to be awake at dawn on a Saturday.
The Durmstrang students entered the Great Hall and headed up the aisle to the brightly flickering goblet. It sat on a small stool in the center of the large room. Around it, traced onto the floor, was a thin gold line.
In an orderly fashion, each of the students stepped over the line and dropped their slips of paper into the goblet. Karkaroff stood beside it, watching until Viktor, who was last, approached him.
"I have every confidence in you," he murmured, as Viktor watched the flames engulf his piece of parchment. To the rest of the students he called, "Back to the ship."
They headed back to the entrance hall, and just as the group was passing through the door, Viktor caught a glance of a tall Hogwarts students slip behind them into the dining hall.
After a quick breakfast in the ship's galley, Viktor spent the rest of the morning in his room flipping through the pages of his father's books. Karkaroff had given them the day to themselves, allowing them to explore the grounds and castle. Viktor, intent on keeping his head level and resisting the temptation to go searching for her, resolved to stay in his room until the feast.
Fate, it seemed, had other plans.
Danyal knocked on his doors just a few hours after they'd entered their names in the goblet.
"I've heard there's a giant squid in the lake." Danyal said by way of greeting, when Viktor answered the door.
Danyal waited expectantly as Viktor put down his book. He peered out of the small porthole and saw a line of powder blue clad students heading back towards the enormous carriage they called home. He huffed slightly, knowing that Danyal was asking him to explore the lake. Frustrated, he realized it was preposterous for him to hide from this girl, whom he'd never even spoken to.
He pulled on his cloak once more and followed Danyal out of the ship – an act that Viktor immediately regretted.
She was walking towards the wooden hut that stood between the great blue carriage and the wide forest. He knew it was she immediately. The wild, tangle of chocolate curls, the slight slope of her nose, he couldn't stop himself from recognizing her.
She was with those boys again, the one with the messy black hair and the vivid red head. The trio stomped up the short set of stairs and knocked on the door of the cabin. A large man with an untamed beard answered and they disappeared inside.
The door closed and down at the end of the plank, Danyal was looking at Viktor with a curious expression.
They spent an hour wandering around the edges of the lake.
Sure enough, a large tentacle was resting in a small patch of sunlight. Danyal gave the thing a friendly pat and the two students continued around the water's edge.
They had gone most of the time in silence, as neither of them was one for chatter.
"So, you recognized him too." Danyal said at length, once they were headed back towards the ship.
Viktor, who had spent most of the walk internally chastising himself, looked up at his companion with a mildly confused expression. "Who?"
"Harry Potter."
At this, Viktor's eyebrows rose. "Vhat?"
"The boy that we saw go into the cabin earlier. That was he, wasn't it? Karkaroff seemed surprised to see him last night." Danyal spoke with an air of nonchalance, as though they were speaking of the weather and not the boy who conquered the Dark Lord.
Viktor grunted in assent, though his mind was whirling to catch up with this new information. That must have been the cause of the commotion he'd missed after dinner. He again reprimanded himself for being so preoccupied with the existence of that girl.
Harry Potter. The information surprised him, though he vaguely remembered his mother pointing out some article about the Boy-Who-Lived and Gilderoy Lockhart a few years before. He was surprised at the time to realize the Potter boy had only recently begun school. And she was his friend, he realized belatedly. Not that it mattered, his mind quickly chimed in, as he didn't plan on interacting with either of them.
The two Durmstrang boys had returned to the entrance to the ship. Heading up the plank, Danyal acknowledged Viktor with a nod and disappeared down the corridor.
Viktor paused at the top of the gangway, glancing back at the small cabin. Smoke was puffing happily from the chimney and Hogwarts students were milling about the area, resting under trees and throwing Fanged Frisbees to one another. He noticed a group of girls giggling and pointing at him from beneath the branches of a large elm.
With a last glance at the closed cabin door, Viktor let out a breath of frustration and entered the dark interior of the ship, intending to stay within its confines until absolutely necessary.
It occurred to Viktor that fate must have enjoyed toying with him.
The sun had set and Karkaroff had just called everyone to head towards the castle. Viktor, now with fresh robes and reaffirmed constitution, stepped out of the dark dimly lit interior of the ship's corridor and cast a perfunctory glance at the cabin near the forest. The windows were yellow and bright, but Viktor spied it's occupant, the large, hairy man, who he presumed was the groundskeeper, speaking to the tall Headmaster of Beauxbatons. The two chatted a moment before heading up to the castle together, following just behind the handful of blue robed students.
Letting out a quiet breath of relief, Viktor continued down the plank and waited beside Professor Karkaroff at the water's edge for the rest of the students.
Unconsciously, Viktor looked back at the cabin, though in his mind he knew the trio of Hogwarts students had surely already gone up to the castle and would therefore be lost in the sea of black robed figures in the dining hall. So he could not control the way his body became rigid and immobile upon seeing that wild array of curls stepping down the stairs of the small hut, flanked by the red-haired boy and the-one-who-lived.
Karkaroff called his students forward and, with a brief nod to Viktor, headed towards the castle.
Viktor forced himself to fall in stride with the professor, keeping his eyes locked solely on the golden light spilling from the massive doorway.
He stared straight ahead of him all the way to a seat at Slytherin table, this time between Petra Anika, a Durmstrang witch to whom Viktor had rarely spoken, and a young Hogwarts students, who seemed so intimidated by the Bulgarian seeker that his small frame visibly shook.
Viktor ignored his dining compatriots, trying his best to keep his mind on the Goblet of Fire and its imminent selection, and trained his eyes on his food alone.
He managed to keep his gaze downturned until the plates became spotless once more and even as Dumbledore explained where the champions would go once they had been called.
Not until Dumbledore, with a great sweeping wave, extinguished all the candles besides those within the great pumpkins that decorated the hall, did Viktor finally dare look up.
In the dimness, it was impossible for him to spot her and the tension he'd felt since the ship left him.
With a great sigh that made the quivering first year beside him jump, Viktor focused all his attention on the Hogwarts headmaster and the fiery goblet before him.
The blue-white flames of the goblet continued to burn brightly, until it suddenly turned a deep red and began to spark. A large tendril of flame shot out like a whip and from it fell a slip of parchment, the edges charred and black.
The fire returned to its pale blue state and Dumbledore, who had caught the smoking bit of parchment, read the name with the light of the fire.
"The champion for Durmstrang," Viktor 's stomach gave a nasty lurch as Dumbledore paused, "will be Viktor Krum."
Cheers erupted across the hall, covering Serge's nasty swear, as Viktor stood and headed towards the professor's table. He turned right, as Dumbledore had directed, and out a plain, wooden door.
The closing door silenced the sound of applause and Viktor found himself inside a small chamber, the walls lined with portraits and a large fire roaring in the grate. Viktor stepped towards the fireplace, letting it's warmth wash over him. He allowed himself a brief smile.
He had done it. He was the Durmstrang champion.
Viktor leaned against the marble mantelpiece, staring into the flames. The pride in his chest settling as he realized this was only the beginning.
The anxiety began creeping up his spine almost immediately at the thought of the first task. It grabbed ahold of him and he wondered how he'd been so calm waiting for the decision of the champions.
The girl's face came unbidden to his mind, forcing away all nervousness and leaving a twisted knot in his core.
Viktor let out of a sound of frustration, slamming his hand down upon the mantelpiece and giving the sleeping wizard in the portrait above it a fright.
"Oh my."
Viktor ignored the voice of one of the portraits behind him and pressed his forehead against the cold marble.
It was a curse. He'd been cursed, put under some sort of spell, a love potion, anything to explain this spiraling sensation that filled him when he thought of her.
He'd never even spoken to her!
The door to the chamber opened, filling the small room with the sound of raucous applause before snapping shut to silence. Viktor lifted his head, but continued staring down at the fire, ignoring the Beauxbaton student that had entered.
He heard her pace around the room.
"Oh, a lovely girl," he heard the wizard in the painting beside him mutter.
Viktor glanced at his now opponent and recognized her. He knew immediately that she was part veela, haven spent a great deal of time travelling with them as the Bulgarian team's mascots. With so much interaction with them, Viktor rarely felt the power of their spell any longer. This girl was a few generations removed, he could tell, and though she was obviously quite beautiful, her close proximity did nothing to drive the bright eyes of his girl from his mind.
He groaned internally, frowning at the fireplace as he realized he'd thought of her as his girl.
The door opened again to an absolute roar of sound and a tall, brunette wizard entered. From a swift glance, Viktor could tell he looked nervous but excited. He greeted the veela girl with a small introduction.
"Er, hello. I'm Cedric. Cedris Diggory. Nice to meet you."
"Fleur Delacour," the girl responded in a fluttery, accented voice. "Eet iz a pleazure."
Cedric turned to Viktor with an apprehensive smile, "No introduction needed for you, of course." Fleur looked unimpressed, but Viktor simply grunted in acknowledgement and returned to brooding.
The other two students began conversing but a moment later, the door opened again.
It was Harry Potter.
Now that he and Viktor had left the castle, Professor Karkaroff was muttering obscenities under his in rapid fire Russian.
"…never would have imagined...scoundrels…cheats…" Viktor understood bits and pieces of his comments, having picked up Russian words, and particularly swears, from his fellow students and also Quidditch teammates.
Switching back to English, Karkaroff addressed Viktor, "My apologies, Viktor. I would never have agreed to this sham of a tournament had I known what filthy cheaters Hogwarts would turn out to be."
By this point, the pair had reached the interior corridor of the ship. Karkaroff bid Viktor a goodnight, and continued down the opposite direction to his quarters.
Once in his room, Viktor stretched out across his bunk, robes and boots still on. He wondered at the fact that he did not feel wronged in any way by the Potter boy.
His expression seemed genuinely confused and partially fearful. Viktor knew at the very least that Harry Potter would not be much competition; he was obviously a few years younger and therefore wouldn't be nearly as prepared as the others.
Viktor felt almost…guilty, challenging this young student.
But there were other emotions that the arrival of the young dark-haired boy inspired in him. Emotions caused by the proximity of the-boy-who-lived and the witch who had taken over Viktor's mind.
Emotions akin to anxiety, apprehension, and…if he was entirely honest with himself…
Hope.