Summary: Viktor Krum held the belief that Unity, not Magic, is might. Stuck in the middle of a war in Britain, armed with nothing but a broom and a broken heart, Viktor's self-pride may just be his saving grace.
Disclaimer: JKR owns everything Harry Potter. I make no profit out of this preoccupation.
Thank you if you have reached this far.
Chapter 4
There had been a disturbance in the quiet and peaceful house of Veselin and Stefka Krum on a Wednesday around 7 in the morning. They were having breakfast when there was a knock on their door.
It was quite a surprise to find their son at their doorstep looking careworn like he had seen death, or had the worst possible news. As Veselin stepped aside he was immediately hugged and kissed on the cheeks.
Stefka heard her name uttered with urgency. Her heart ran a gamut of emotions from fear to worry to joy when her view was obliterated by rough, brown tunic with arms that lifted her up and almost crushed her.
They were not accustomed to such display of affection from their son since his first year as a professional athlete. He refused to tell them where he had been.
Viktor had been on his own for the last 2 years. Had he been hiking in the Balkans? She feared though that he might have been flying alone and had an accident again. He smiled wanly at them, insisting that he was fine. Yet he seemed different somehow.
It was quite unusual to suddenly hear their son thanking them for their love and support. If truth be told, he had not really needed them all these years. He asked to spend a few days with them.
They knew that Viktor was presently unemployed. Stefka had been worried about his future but Veselin had said that this lull could just be what their son needed to examine his life.
Viktor had been a resilient, quiet, stubborn young man. He listened to advice and opinion but rarely considered it. He was a man of very few words. And although he was not as comfortable like they were mingling with Muggles and their culture, he had not expressed any propensity for casting spells and charms. He was brilliant in his school days, but somehow Quidditch took some of that away.
When Viktor fell in love with a Muggle woman, they were very happy that somebody would be taking care of him. Yordanka Petrova was a fine young woman, but like men and women her age, she wanted to study if not work in a foreign country. It was sad that Bulgaria had become a country of older adults and not of boisterous youth. Kazanlak was a city of industries, and though the red roses harvested for their oil were quite in demand, the town quite romantic during May and June when these roses were in bloom, it seemed melancholic without youth to appreciate it or young love to accompany it.
They were grateful that Viktor stayed close to them, though Quidditch was his life and they mostly heard from him from the media, which was a jumble of half-truths, gossip, and lies.
Like all parents, they could do nothing but wish the best for their child. They wished that Viktor would outlive them at least.
When your adult estranged son comes home to you, you have a million questions you can't ask him. Men don't do well with confrontation.
To a child, a mother gives what is needed. To an adult, a mother gives what is asked.
There was another knock on the door that morning. It was the young unmarried mother, Maria Stoichkov, who lived in an apartment a block away. Her partner worked in Sofia. Stefka would not be surprised if he had taken the train to Moscow or Turkey for all the time and attention he gave her.
"I'm sorry to be a bother, Mrs. Krum, but it's my three-month old baby, little Nikolay, he has a fever,..." The woman unwrapped the baby in her arms, as she whispered prayers to him.
Stefka was expecting her smart son to scoff that she was no medic, by no means a Mediwitch. But he just politely excused himself.
Viktor had gone to his old room which was a bit too small. It was the only thing that did not change as the rest of the two-storey house had been expanded and developed to meet the demands of modern Muggle living standards.
They had saved all his memorabilia in this one room. His baby pictures which he did not want to see. They were Muggle photos of Viktor as a child up to his entry into Durmstrang. He grew up into Muggle culture, having been exposed to Bulgarian traditions and music. He had quite a voice, albeit nasally; Stefka fondly recalled her son singing at some of her friends' parties. He was shy, but affable. Somehow, Durmstrang Institute wiped this precious boy from memory.
He had taken all magical photographs with him when he moved out, because the couple welcomed Muggle friends over quite often, mostly people asking Stefka for medical advice.
Although Stefka's favorite subject in school was Herbology, her favorite Professor taught Charms. She got top marks simply because Charms, deemed feminine by most male students, was taken seriously only by a few.
Stefka Orozov met Veselin Krum in Durmstrang. Their love blossomed five years later.
Veselin Krum was the son of a Bulgarian wizard who fought in the second Muggle world war, or what the wizarding world referred to as the war instigated by Gellert Grindelwald.
Grindelwald was a brilliant student of Durmstrang until 1897 as Stefka remembered from her husband. Probably of German ancestry. He was a boy who excelled especially in the Dark Arts. However, he had a rift with a Muggleborn, and that unnamed Muggleborn wizard was never heard of again. Some say it was a duel to the death, but the school never in history condoned such things.
Grindelwald hated Muggles who occupied most of the world while wizards were a small population in-hiding. He had formed a small group of students who shared in his ideals of blood purity and Muggle hatred, and they even had a symbol. Some sort of triangle with a circle inside. Grindelwald carved it on one wall in the entrance to the school before he was expelled in his seventh year.
No one had heard from him since. Until about 55 years ago. A major war broke out. Muggles and Muggleborns were being killed everywhere. With Muggle weapons as well as with fatal curses from Grindelwald's forces. Grindelwald had re-emerged, invincible. He had imperiused if not allied with a Muggle political leader from Germany in the process. Everyone was afraid to leave their homes; being a suspect was enough cause for torture and murder. Life had been cheapened as food became scarce, lands and properties confiscated, and security rendered unstable. Still, heroes emerged, for no force ever went unresisted.
One of such heroes was a Bulgarian wizard named Borislav. He was part of a band of friends and their families; they fought for the oppressed, the downtrodden. They were "blood traitors." They fought the good fight, and Borislav dueled Grindelwald himself. It was a short duel that no one but Bulgarians committed to memory. Still, he lost valiantly, leaving his wife, and a one year-old Veselin Krum.
It was prevailing knowledge in the resistance that Grindelwald was indestructible because he possessed the Elder Wand. Some had seen him use it with ease. The notorious wand was believed to confer on its owner the power of infallibility, especially in subduing and killing their opponents. It was owned one time by the famed wandmaker Gregorovitch. He had claimed that it was stolen from him. His description of it was mentioned in one of the books used in the subject of Wandlore and Magical Theory.
Wandlore and Magical Theory, the course devoted to the study of wands was a subject taught to sixth and seventh year students in Durmstrang. Stefka did not pay much attention to it. It was not as tedious as History of Magic. No one actually failed in it, but she felt a disinclination towards it, and preferred a peaceful coexistence with nature and magical creatures. She did not believe wands were all that special. Great magic could only come from great wizards. It would be superstition to bestow such a power upon an inanimate object, but very few shared her belief.
The defeat of the great wizard Gellert Grindelwald in 1945 (by the greater wizard Albus Dumbledore) finally concluded the battle for blood supremacy, although prejudice persisted through the years. Skin color might have been the worst one. The worst unrest was all before Stefka went to magical school. But even growing up, she knew there were subtle signs in every country, some more blatant than others. It even existed in the Muggle world.
She could not comprehend why there was so much hatred and discord among humans. Why humans were bent on destroying themselves and the world they inhabited. If magic could be put to good use, the world could live forever. No problem, no conflict, no disease. Peace and harmony all around. She was glad at least that Muggle languages were taught in Durmstrang. Communication was certainly the first step in fostering tolerance.
Stefka used to be a girl that was all about gender equality, women liberation, and independence. Maybe because she did not finish her seventh year and she lost all self-confidence. Or maybe, compassion stood in the way, and she had relegated herself to the background. Helping people get well. Muggle life was not so bad. She even relished giving relationship advice.
For she was happily married. To a man who inspired her. The man who taught Charms for almost 11 years.
Veselin grew up an orphan before he even entered Durmstrang as a student. He was raised by one of the professors' friends, and he practically grew up in school. He loved transfiguration, charms and the dark arts. He joined the Academia at the age of 20. It was not until 10 years later that he fell for a woman. Maybe it was her brilliance. Maybe it was her beauty. Or maybe because they shared the same homeland, one he barely knew.
The crime was not allowing a girl half his age to fall for him. It was taking advantage of such innocence and getting a student pregnant while supposedly upholding moral principles and respectability. He did not let go of her despite complaints from parents and pressure from the other professors. His foster father died prematurely.
She was expelled without alternative schooling. Bulgarian women were allowed to marry at her age, but their affair was deemed inappropriate and scandalous.
Veselin loved her too much and hated the school for punishing her and her family. He left his profession and found work in Bulgaria. They got married just before Viktor was born. Their Muggle life had begun.
It was a visit from a professor friend of Veselin to formally invite his then twelve-year old son to Durmstrang Institute that made him realize that Viktor belonged with the magical community. He was very shy as a kid, always bullied because he acted weird around his Muggle classmates. Veselin and Stefka had shielded him from magic for years; they took him to pediatricians who constantly found him sickly and withdrawn. These doctors suspected the parents of "neglecting" or "mistreating" their son, in an attempt to conceal their own failures in finding a cure.
When Veselin bought him a toy broom for his seventh birthday. Viktor's self-confidence soared. His health improved. He was still shy but understood early on that he was meant to be special. Meant to do something great.
Not just fly around looking for golden balls...
Veselin in hindsight should have given Viktor a book about Durmstrang Through The Centuries instead. As Viktor grew older and decided that being a Quidditch Seeker was what he wanted for a career, their worrying took a turn for the worst. How they wished they could mirror their son's joys.
The teenaged Viktor insisted that this was what he was good at. Flight was his flight, his escape, his self-expression, as he stated time and again. Veselin recalled that his son did not mention any close friends from school other than Dimitar Yavarov. Stefka concluded that he was quite a recluse; Veselin thought he was skiving off chores and school responsibilities. It was made all the worse by then headmaster Igor Karkaroff's encouragement. They did not trust Karkaroff to have Viktor's best interest at heart. He had Viktor in the palm of his hand.
When Karkaroff disappeared two years ago, Veselin and his wife were relieved beyond words. Karkaroff was not smart. He was superficial, narcissistic, materialistic. He did not treat his students fairly. He especially rallied for an exclusively pureblood male magical school. He allowed boys to drink alcohol after school hours. He forced Viktor to work as a professional athlete while still in school. Dimitar helped him survive through the rigors of school. The boys even taught each other how to mend injuries. Dimitar was like a son to Veselin and Stefka.
Viktor would even claim that Dimitar was the smartest in class, but was out of Karkaroff's good graces because he did not play Quidditch. But Veselin knew that the famed Goblet of Fire, not Karkaroff, chose Viktor as the school champion. That said a lot.
Veselin Krum had wondered why Viktor had stopped mentioning Dimitar after they graduated from school. He just said that he had lost touch with his best friend. But now, the older Krum wondered...
Viktor had been having terrible nightmares. Stefka had woken up one night too many.
Viktor had been more quiet recently. He had that faraway look. Whenever she confronted him about it, he would just shrug it off and say that he was tired. But his subconscious would not lie.
Every night, he was heard screaming in his sleep. Calling for Dimitar and a woman named Maria. He would suddenly wake up drenched in sweat and once or twice when he was half disoriented he would confess to having dreams of Dimitar getting trampled, his body being ripped open and consumed alive by a Horntail dragon. Of Maria being pushed off the cliff by young dragons. He would cover his ears, bending over in inexplicable agony.
He would finally stutter "I will remember, I promise," before falling back to sleep.
Where did her son get this illness? He had not mentioned his best friend in years. Where had Viktor been? Was this about the Tournament three years back? Was this a complication of his head trauma?
When asked during wakefulness, he would either refuse to tell about his dreams, or nightmares, or deny having them. He did ask her to make a Sleeping Draught. She offered him Muggle medicines to help him sleep but they did not work for him.
One morning, four days since he arrived, Viktor was seated in the dining room, drinking coffee that his mother made for him.
"You might as well tell me the truth, Viktor. I gave you Veritaserum." She stopped kneading the dough for the sweet bread, dusted flour off her hands, and faced her son with a steely eye.
"No, you did not." He chuckled, but quickly put down his cup.
"How do you know? It's clear, tasteless, odorless. Out with it!"
"I have nothing to tell. Please leave me alone. I should have silenced my room." Viktor mumbled the last bit, before searching his pockets, scowling to find them empty.
"Viktor Krum! How dare you! Is this how you treat your mother now? You used to come to me for everything. Such a shy child you were. Quidditch and that Karkaroff changed you. Now, you're arrogant and dismissive with us! What have I done to deserve this, I ask you?! Is this what Karkaroff had taught you?!"
Viktor momentarily looked alarmed. Then he heaved a sigh, as he rubbed his eyes in exasperation. He glanced across the dining table at his father, who was reading his newspaper, quiet but expectant. Viktor then turned to face his mother.
"Do you think dragons are sentient? Do you think they are capable of vengeance against humans? They...keep screaming in my head..." He visibly trembled, with that faraway look again.
"Are you sure you did well on Potions? Why can't you make the draught?" Cranky like a boy.
"Well, you should remember how to do it, seeing you're so clever and young. Look over your books, then, and refresh my memory."
The ingredients had just arrived by owl post after Veselin ordered from a colleague in Italy two days prior.
They made the Sleeping Draught together. Viktor gratefully consumed the potion every night, and it made a world of difference.
She was on her way to work one morning when she found Viktor in the kitchen, slicing cucumbers for the shopska salad, while drinking rose brandy. When he acknowledged her, she sighed.
"I worry about you, Viktor. I really wish you'd be more open with us. You are keeping secrets now, yet you still come to me when you need something."
"I think I'm well now. I'm ready to go back to work." He was chopping tomatoes, peppers, and parsley with such haste and force he could've cut one of his Seeking fingers. She restricted herself to watching him add sunflower oil to the salad.
"You know that Canada won the Quidditch World Cup?" He looked at her, surprised. His face managed to crack a smile.
"If we lost to them, I would say we were second best."
"Viktor, you are certainly a man of contradiction. Hugging and thanking your parents,..."
Viktor interjected, "I've used you."
"that was just too good to last..."
"I'd like to believe I've changed. I was thinking of a new investor for the team. Someone more prominent, you know, and more open-minded,..." He offered the salad, and she took a cucumber slice.
"Still thinking about Quidditch? They don't even appreciate you there. You were fantastic! The youngest, the best Seeker in the world! And they replaced you."
Before Viktor could rebut, she said, "You deserve better. Maybe, they're not worth it, son. A-At least give them time to miss you." Viktor put grated sirene cheese on top of the salad before placing it in the cooler.
"I'm going out in an hour to practice. I'll be back in time for supper. No stunts, I promise."
Viktor had been frequently using their Muggle phone in an attempt to contact his friends. She recalled dear Zograf and Levski. Sweet boys who loved her cooking. They had Muggle phones but not one answered or returned his calls. It was painful to watch her son teeter between despair and loneliness.
He was able to reach his manager who only extended his vacation to six months. There was no need to worry about practice, it was too early, funds were low at this point.
"It seems I've lost the bet." He scowled. At that moment, Veselin entered the house.
"I will get my wand." At these words, his father smiled, too widely.
Viktor was so angry, he took his wand, and practiced the dark arts with his father. Veselin, who was on vacation for another month, was only too happy to comply. He was aching to practice some vicious curses himself.
AN: There are obviously arcs in every chapter. Just to elucidate characters. Maybe the chapters are snippets tied together. I have switched POV, switched back to narration, which tends to get boring, but, oh well. Happy New Year!
