Notes:

Viktor / Harry pairing.

Hope you like the ship and I adore possessive, protective Viktor.

The sun was setting on the fifth day of the most unpleasant and balmy heatwave in living memory. Harry lay in his underwear on top of the bed sheet, with sweat creeping down his muscled abdomen, wondering how long it would take to fall asleep tonight, hopefully without any further strange dreams.

Thinking on earlier that evening, in a very drowsy state, Harry recalled odd images of sitting somewhere. Try as he might, Harry had not been able to make out where the dream had taken place, but knew he had been high off the ground, with his two best friends near. Feeling frustrated at his inability to recall more details caused Harry to huff. With the memory of the dream now fading fast, all that was left was an unsettling feeling that he had forgotten something significant that happened in this dream. Shaking his head and palming his eyes, he decided he was dreading an early morning start. Internally grumbling about the prospect of presenting a report on the increase in dark activity in the North East of England to a faceless delegation of his colleagues at the Ministry, he huffed, again, but much louder this time.

Harry looked around the room he shared with his wife, which was causing ever increasing melancholy of late. A sad smile crept across his face as his eyes landed on the picture gallery across the room. Over thirty pictures of Ginny and Harry with friends and family hung in an eclectic assortment of intricately decorated frames. He knew these images should warm his heart, not least when he thought how different life was from ten years ago when what should have been his home was nothing short of a prison cell. Alas Harry's new constant companion, guilt, started to circle his heart. Harry recalled a light hearted argument he had with Ginny when he objected to the placement of the gallery. Ginny had assured Harry that people in photos and portraits would have the sense to leave the frames when the activity in the room got R-rated, but as it turned out this was far from a regular event. Rolling his eyes at his own ever present frustration Harry flung his legs off the bed, after deciding his normal means to calm his mind and ease his way into a comfortable sleep by pushing his body through a brief spell of euphoria was not appealing. More so when it was so fucking hot, and with Ginny pottering around in the house, it wasn't the most sensible of ideas.

Harry's body was feeling so damn drained after an intense day of battle simulations with Ron, and thinking of his red-headed best mate was enough to drain any remaining desires he was feeling. Harry had never really gotten a solid grasp on occlumency but understood the technique was an excellent way to clear one's mind rapidly, with a secondary benefit in its application to cure insomnia. He snorted when he reminisced Hermione reprimanding him for his lack of effort in their fifth year but now internally agreeing he should have tried harder at it, especially if it meant an improvement to the quality of his sleep.

Resigned to his fate of yet another sleepless night, he begrudgingly stood up from the bed and decided to brush up on his notes to prepare for the morning. He was getting comfortable at the desk, which had recently moved into the master suite following the arrival of his third child, just as Ginny arrived. "Hey. Can't sleep again?" Ginny asked with a flash of genuine concern on her face.

"No, it's hotter than Hyades armpit tonight, Gin and I can't get my mind off tomorrow's presentation", Harry replied in a bit of a whine, whilst pulling his glasses off to clean them on his T-shirt that he had thrown over his chair on his way to bed earlier.

"I've read your presentation, and it's perfect Harry, but I know public speaking is not your bag," she said with a smirk, which made Harry recall the memory of his wedding toast, causing him to shudder. "I'll get you a calming draught and a slice of treacle tart", and with that, Ginny left the room.

Harry was forever grateful for the genuine warmth that was Ginny Potter and was always in awe of her emotional maturity. Try as he might, he always struggled to maintain a good equilibrium during the more mundane moments of his life. He put it down to summers essentially locked in a box room during his formative adolescent years after almost a full year of being mentally and physically challenged daily. As it turned out, his time at Hogwarts gave him the experiences needed to be an exceptional Auror in the field. Harry grumbled, recalling being continually pulled up on his short temper during desk assignments. His career had caused significant friction in his relationship with Ginny as Harry was always the first to volunteer for extended assignments, which meant he was away from home, sometimes months at a time.

With an earth-shattering sigh, Harry unrolled his presentation notes and, using a quill, specifically charmed for editing, the Wizard began working through the presentation. Having read and reread the same 1st paragraph six times, Harry quickly realised he was more agitated than he first thought. His old friend guilt was rearing his head when Harry briefly hoped that he would be sent on an assignment following his presentation.

Just then, he heard his newest arrival start to cry in the nursery. Ginny had charmed a pair of mockingbird figures to relay the sound from the nursery, smiling at how the Magical World had so many parallels to the Muggles World without the need for electricity. He picked up the mockingbird and pushed the left wing down. "Hey, Lily, is it too hot tonight?" Harry said, hoping to soothe her with a small cue.

There was a slight stir in Lily's sobs, but then she carried straight on with a renewed urgency. Harry stood to go to the nursery just as Ginny walked in with the calming draught and tart. "It's okay, Harry, I've got it. I think it's just a little hot, so I'll cast a light cooling charm over her mobile". With that, she turned around, closing the door.

Harry smiled when he heard Ginny enter the room over the mockingbird monitor. "Now what's with all the dramatics Lily Potter? I am glad your father soundproofed the walls as I am in no mood for your devilish older brothers being woken up by all this fuss". Harry heard a little gurgle of a possible giggle, and it sounded like Ginny was sitting in the rocking chair.

Harry turned his attention to the calming draught with Lily in safe hands. It was pleasantly cool as it trickled down his throat, but the taste wasn't up to much. Rerolling his report and placing it back in the bureau, he devoured the treacle tart. Once the dessert was polished off, Harry cast a quick cleaning spell on his gums and teeth, headed back to the bed, and plopped down.

Just as sleep was pulling down on him and he started to drift off, an ear-curdling screech sounded through the mockingbird monitor. Harry jumped to his feet, grabbed his wand, and burst into the hall through the master suite door. In his haste, Harry caught his foot on the corner of the shaggy rug in the hall. Falling forward, with his glasses flying off his face, he smacked his head on the corner of the console table and hit the floor with heavy thud.

Harry struggled to open his eyes, feeling an intense pain near his left temple and even with his eyes closed, he could see a multitude of swirling colours against the back of his lids. Apprehension flooded his exhausted body when he realised the left side of his forehead felt wet. Even though he was in a fugue state, Harry made a loud moan of apprehension at the damage that had been caused, lest he receives another sodding scar.

Opening his eyes, he discovered he couldn't focus clearly and mostly saw blurs of colours but could make out a figure hovering over him. Assuming it was Ginny but recalling his glasses flying off his face during his tumble paired with the head injury meant his eyesight was next to useless.

"Sorry, Gin, I hope I didn't wake the kids", Harry whispered in a very hoarse voice. "What in Merlin's name was that screaming sound?" he asked whilst rubbing his eyes and wincing at the pain in his head.

Feeling an arm pull him up to a sitting position with great ease caused panic to stir as a he felt firm body pressed against his own. Making no motion to move as this was clearly an adult man holding him and being painfully aware his wand was not in his hand, Harry was resigned to let this situation play out for the moment.

"Скъпи, why are you always so clumsy," the stranger said with a light European accent that Harry couldn't place.

"You must have hit your head hard judging by the state of you!" he stated. "Ginny Weasley hasn't been here for months, Harry". Harry noticed his heart rate was increasing rapidly, and his breathing was getting very heavy.

Without his wand, Harry decided the only course of action left was to use physical combat techniques, all be it, at an obvious disadvantage with a severe head injury and as he was now halfway straddled on the stranger's lap.

Just as he was about to make a move, the stranger repositioned Harry to rest against the wall. "I am going to do a quick diagnostic spell, Скъпи, to make sure there isn't any internal bleeding before I repair the damage".

Harry felt a warm and pleasant puff of air around the injury. He could see a little clearer now, but the stranger's face was not clear enough. Harry noticed a light blue glow coming from the top of his line of vision, meaning he was at least in the presence of a Wizard in this place, realising only now it was not where he had been moments before.

There was no way to explain this feeling, but he did start to feel calmer, and his instincts told him this stranger didn't mean to cause further pain or injury. As the stranger worked his magic, Harry went to turn to try and get a sense of where on earth he was. Attempting to move his head, he felt calloused hands hold his head in place by his chin. "Harry, Скъпи, please, keep your head still. There is just the external bleeding left to mend, but you do have a mild concussion. I have repaired the break in your skin and healed the minor fracture on your skull. Please don't stand just yet, and I will get you some blood-replenishing potion as you lost a lot of blood," the stranger ordered with evident worry.

Hearing the stranger stand and walk away, Harry lifted his head and watched the muscled yet slim man as he made his way down the long corridor before disappearing out of sight.

Harry rubbed his head but couldn't feel any pain, yet wet and dried blood was still on his face and hair. Gathering his thoughts and pushing himself into a standing position made him realise he was still in shock feeling very unsteady now that he was bearing his weight. Noticing his glasses a little up the corridor, he stumbled forward and picked them up.

He surveyed his surroundings with his head injury healed and his glasses back on. Harry was in a long corridor with limed oak wooden panelling halfway up the walls, and a wildflower wallpaper almost reached the ceiling. The wallpaper was topped by a border of white painted plaster that skirted along the ceiling. Harry was impressed by the decorator's taste and continued to take in his surroundings.

There were several closed doors and a console table of light wood at least two meters long. On the corner of the console was blood splatter and what looked like a chunk of his flesh. Harry again reached up to the recently healed injury, concerned there may be a gaping hole in the side of his head. To his relief, the skin was smooth and intact. The stranger must be a Healer to have been able to do such a professional job of treating his wounds.

Looking at the console table, he noticed several photo frames. Moving forward to approach, panic gripped him in a sudden wave, holding him in place. Firstly where the fuck was he, and how did he get here? Secondly, just before falling and nearly taking off the top half of his head, he was on his way to the nursery in his own home and now fully confident this was not the Potter household, as clearly, it was too clean, and there was not a single toy in sight. Harry furiously pulled the top of his hair to calm himself. Lastly, what happened to Ginny to make her scream?

Harry was not one to let unusual situations take over him after years of adrenaline-filled adventures, but since becoming a husband and father, he ought to be concerned, as it wasn't just himself he needed to care for.

The only thought that came to mind was he was somehow port-keyed away. Not being unconfident in his magical ability, the thought was quickly disregarded as the wards on his home would have prevented this from being possible.

Looking around, Harry barked out, "Where the fuck is my bloody wand! One day, Harry James Potter, your inability to maintain a grip of it will be the death of you", feeling a grating of shame in his stomach.

The corridor was still quiet, and Harry began to investigate, seeing no sign that the man was returning. Harry looked at the first framed photo on the console. It was him with his two best friends at Hogwarts, and quickly recalling this picture had been taken at the end of Hermione's eight year (well, technically her seventh year, which he and Ron decided to forgo in favour of starting as trainee Auror's). It was odd to see that he and Hermione were wearing graduation robes, as that was not what he had worn that day. Ron was in his trainee Auror get-up, which Harry should have also been. It then dawned on Harry that it was most baffling that the picture was even here as the only copy he knew to exist was in his gallery.

They were all beaming and beckoning the picture taker to join them. From memory, it was Ginny taking the picture, but moments later, a man came prowling into the frame with slightly rounded shoulders and his feet somewhat turned in, looking awkward. This man did, however, present a powerful muscular frame nonetheless. Harry knew this to be Victor Krum which only baffled his already chaotic mind. The chaste kiss in the picture Harry and Krum shared made him blush the deepest red, followed by the picture Krum sporting a wide smile, showing off his perfect white teeth.

"What in Merlin's name is going on," Harry said as his heart rate started to climb again. Placing the picture down, he decided to firmly grab the next frame on the console table, hoping it would calm him slightly.

The Krum in this picture was vastly different. Still, the same handsome square face, but his shoulders were pulled back with his strong muscled chest puffed, and his stance dripped with charming confidence. In the picture, Krum was waving for the cameraman to join him. A double of Harry, roughly five years younger came into the frame wearing Quidditch gear; it looked like an English national kit. They were standing in the foreground of a Quidditch pitch that was bigger than those of regional team games, which Harry surmised was for a World Cup match, causing Harry to feel a little jealous of the other Harry in the picture.

Like in the first photo, Krum and Harry kissed but with much more passion this time, and both smiled like they didn't have a care in the world. Oddly Harry felt his groin tighten a little as he watched the passion he saw. "Get a grip, Potter", he breathed out, admonishing himself.

A million and one thoughts ran through his head. Growing up in the muggle world and with Ginny's love of muggle movies, especially Science Fiction and Fantasy, caused Harry to think he was in some bizarre parallel universe. That can't be right, though, can it, he thought, as this isn't a movie.

With stone cold dread and feeling incredibly nauseous, panic started to boil through Harry's stomach and mind as if this were real; where are his children in this world, with his emotional state soon turning to one of fury. Harry may have had some issues related to the passion he was able to show Ginny in their relationship, but that didn't mean he wouldn't throw his life down for her or their children.

With the overwhelming wave of nausea reaching fever pitch and ultimately overtaking him, bile exploded up from his stomach. He threw up his guts on the beautiful sheepskin rug under the console table. Falling to his knees, he wasn't surprised that he started to feel a warm prickle in the corner of his eyes. His resolve failed, and the dam broke with images of his family swimming in his mind. Blubbering ensued so intensely that it would have made the ten-month-old Lily look like she had greater emotional maturity.

As Harry started to get a grip of his emotional turmoil and after deciding this was either some crazy dream or a dark plot to torture him, he eased off the blubbering. Just as he looked up, he noticed the man returning. The sconces where the powerful force of a man stood were not very bright, but Harry could see the muscular yet slim frame and handsome square face of Viktor Krum, who stood stock still looking at him.

"WHY DID YOU BRING ME HERE, AND WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME IS HAPPENING?" Harry yelled at the man. Krum's face showed a shadow of fear, and then he looked at what can only be described as hurt.

"Скъпи what do you mean?" Krum said as he moved towards Harry with his hand reaching toward Harry's face.

"STOP THERE, DO NOT TOUCH ME" Harry again yelled, unable to control himself and stepping back from the man. Steeling a little, he asked, "What do you keep calling me?"

"What do you mean, Harry?" Krum said lost.

"You keep saying skapi or something, but you seem to know my name is Harry", Harry said in a much calmer manner.

"It is a term of endearment. I've used it since we became official," Krum answered as if that would explain his answer fully.

"I don't even know where to start with that answer", Harry spat, looking royally pissed off.

"Possibly I missed something on the diagnostic spell, or you had an adverse reaction to the healing spell because you are acting crazy Harry", Krum alleged, his voice sounding a little more aggressive than previously.

"Where is my wand, Krum?" Harry asked in an accusing manner.

"Well, at least you know who I am. If it's not shoved in your jeans, then it is probably in our bedroom, Harry," Krum said, looking worried again and speaking in a lighter tone.

At this, Harry realised he was fully dressed, but earlier, he was just in his underwear, with some relief washing over his body as standing in front of Krum almost naked would have shamed him even further.

Harry was more surprised by what he was wearing. A fine pair of black slim-fit jeans and a gorgeous angora fitted jumper in a light green colour were certainly not clothes he owned or what he would even think of buying from himself, however stylish it may look. Even though fully dressed, he felt a little cold which also made no sense as it was unbearably hot only moments before.

"Okay, look. There is something off about all this. I am going to put my wand on the table here, okay, Harry!" Krum offered as more of a statement than a question. Krum moved forward a little and put his wand down in a slow and relaxed motion, along with what Harry assumed must have been the potion.

Harry looked at the hornbeam wood just over ten inches long and recalled seeing the same one during the Triwizard tournament.

"Okay, thanks for being reasonable, and I am sorry I shouted," Harry whispered, feeling that odd instinct again that this man was to be trusted.

Krum laughed and said, "Harry, I've known you a long time, and you should know by now I never take your little outbursts personally", Krum replied with a sad smile.

Harry thought of Ginny having said similar words many times. Guilt crept up on him once again, at how he was still unable not to lash out at those he loved when the pressure of his emotional state was too much to handle. In the past, he blamed his status as the unintended Horcrux. Harry had hoped with the disgusting piece of Voldemort's soul now gone; he would have better control of his emotional well-being. Harry had cut himself a little slack long ago after a lifetime of horrible and frankly outrageous situations he went through but the guilt never left him all the same.

"I think we should go downstairs, Harry and try to figure out what is happening to you," Krum said calmly.

"I will allow you to take my wand if that will ease your stress". Harry felt embarrassed that this man was demonstrating such trust but did wonder why it seemed to come so effortlessly for him, but Harry decided not to think less of Krum for it, at least for the moment.

"Okay, thanks. I guess you will need to lead the way as I don't know this place," Harry said, and the look on Krum's face was one of sadness.

Harry picked up the other man's wand, and it had an odd sensation of familiarity, and he got a strange feeling of warmth as if the wand trusted and knew him. As they walked down the beautiful and exceptionally well-decorated corridor, Viktor turned left as they reached the far wall. Harry smiled a little at why he suddenly thought of this man as Viktor. As he followed Viktor down an oak staircase, his eyes were drawn to stare at Viktor's muscular bum as if hypnotised. Harry blushed, looking away in shame, utterly shocked at his behaviour.

"Get a hold of yourself, Potter", Harry whispered so low only he could hear.