It's been a blast, ya'll!

Epilogue

June 19, 2010
2:22 P.M.
Easton, Nevada
World Cup Golden Pitch

She was sitting alone in the stands, her eyes darting back and forth. He didn't think that he'd ever seen someone with such concentration, unless it was himself. She was perhaps fourteen or fifteen, tall but very thin and lithe, the build of a Seeker. Her dark, almost black hair was long and thick around her shoulder blades. From where he was standing, her eyes were very dark, just like her skin tone.

"Who ees that?" Viktor Krum asked his manager, never taking his eyes off of the girl or his very own snitch of which she was concentrating on.

His manager, a tall, thin, blonde American woman, looked at the girl as if she were a piece of gum under her shoe. "Someone who needs to get off this field so that you can practice for your last match." She handed him her clipboard. "Here, take my things. I'll go talk to her."

"No," he said quickly, tucking the board underneath his arm, "I vill." He didn't know why, but the girl looked very familiar. So familiar, in fact, that it hurt him not being able to remember who she was. As he got closer he noticed that her face was a long oval, with a stubborn chin and almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones. Her eyelashes were long enough to create a gale-fore wind.

Suddenly the girl got up, got onto her broom, and sped away faster than he'd ever seen a broom go. She tried to snatch the snitch from the air, but it evaded her and came straight for him. He held up his hand and it flew right into his grasp.

He wasn't surprised when the girl landed next to him, her dark brown eyes full of curiosity. "Hey, Mister, that your old snitch?" she asked, throwing the broom over one shoulder, like she had been born on it. Her voice was strange, like the American southerners. "Hay, Mista," is what it had sounded like, so it took him a moment to understand what she was saying.

I have been out of America for too long. "Yes," he said, feeling his brow scrunch in confusion. Her face...it is so familiar! "It is very old."

She smiled, showing perfectly straight white teeth. "Yeah, thought so. I've been watchin' it all mornin'. It's the old version, right?" He nodded. Now there was a new version of the Snitch, one that flew faster and harder and didn't lose its wings when handled for too long. His was barely holding on. "Its mechanisms are a little off. Let me guess, it's...1994 Series?"

He had to smile back at her bright and cheery attitude, and at her guess on when he'd gotten the snitch. "Yes, you are correct. It ees from the 1994 Vorld Cup."

She looked at him a little harder, trying to determine who he was or if she knew him from somewhere. "You're Viktor Krum!" she said a moment later, hitting herself over the head. "Duh! Sorry, it's nice to meet you, sir." She held out her hand and he shook it, surprised to feel that she had a strong handshake.

"You are Seeker?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow when she blushed.

"Yes. Could you tell?"

Viktor had to smirk at that. "Of course I could tell. A Seeker has specific build, specific look, good eye. You half these."

She smiled proudly, and his heart suddenly pulled and he felt like he wanted to cry. Yet he had no idea who this girl was! "Sorry, I guess I should introduce myself," she said, probably noticing his confused look and wanting him to stop staring at her. "My name's Samantha Nelson, but you can call me Sam."

"Neelsoon, as in—"

Sam sighed and held up her hand, stopping him. "Yeah, my mother is Head Auror. And Captain of the American Quidditch Team. No need to rub it in. I'm under her shadow enough as it is."

"No," he said quickly, pushing down her defensive hands. "I knoo your moother."

"Who doesn't?" she asked, suddenly taking interest in her broom. It was a Reynolds—one of the newest of the lines that Leigh Ann Nelson had invented. Besides being one of the best Aurors in the world, she also owned three Broom lines: Rocket, Nelson, and now Reynolds. Viktor hadn't seen her since the Triwizard Tournament, when they'd promised to get together. He realized now that they never had.

"Ve vere both een the Trivisard Toornament," he said to her, feeling himself smile. I wonder if we could catch up? "I half not seen her een that loong."

Sam stopped for a moment, thinking that over. Her dark eyes looked familiar as she scrunched them, and her nose had a light dusting of freckles over it which scrunched up too, even though her skin was very dark. Suddenly her eyes brightened. "Hey...take a walk with me. I mean, if that's alright with you."

Strange...Leigh Ann and I took a walk when we first met. Like mother like daughter? "Of course." She moved out of the way, letting him walk, and they started to circle the familiar pitch. It was time for the 2010 Quidditch World Cup, held in America, Bulgaria versus America. And it was his last Quidditch match ever.

"Listen...I know that this is gonna sound weird, but I think my mom kind of...I don't know, knows you better than that?" She bit her lip, looking off into the rising sun that was rising above the golden stadium in Nevada. "I don't know how to say it. Maybe I should ask...have you ever had your memory erased?"

Another pang went through his chest, and he looked closer into her eyes. He saw the curve of the eyelid that his grandmother had, and the silky coloring of hair of his mother. The strong bone of his father in the jaw, and then Leigh Ann's touch in many places.

His heart hurt so much that he couldn't even think.

"Mr. Krum?" the girl asked, waving her hand in front of his face. "Mr. Krum, I'm sorry, it was just a question."

Viktor shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "I am fine. Please, continue."

She looked at him for a moment longer, as if he would fall over dead any moment, when she turned back and continued walking. He slowly followed. "All my life, my Mom's never told me about a lot of things. Kind of like she's been keeping something from me. She tells me my dad's some Muggle who died in the Iraq war, but I just don't believe it. And she's never let me keep a Pensive in the house. Well last month, I found one."

She took a deep breath. It looked like this was hard for her to do, and her brow was still scrunched up.

"I took my memory out from when I was a baby. Did you know that you can look into that? Did you know that even in the womb, a person has memories? I guess that proves that the abortionists are crazy, and—" Suddenly she blushed and looked away, biting her lower lip. "Sorry. I get off subject a lot. Anyways, I went back to the first few days of my life. I wanted to know who my father was. And...I saw a memory...it was of you and my mom."

It is not possible. "You are how old?" he asked her, trying to figure out where he'd seen her before, or why her entire story was cutting a hole deep inside of him. His head hurt, his body ached, and it felt as if he would throw up.

"I'm fourteen, come September."

He felt his heart speeding up as his brain tried to remember something that had been forgotten. "I half not seen your moother seence sixteen years agoo. So I do not knoo vhat you are toolking about."

"But you do," she said, making a turnabout to turn and look him in the eyes. She was to his chin in height, and her eyes had to have been the exact replica of his. "You do know. I can see it in your eyes! There's something you both're keeping from me!"

"I can not keep soomething from you if I do not half the memory of it."

"You don't have the memory because my mother used a spell. She used obliviate and erased your memory! Now I don't know why, but—"

Viktor put his hand over her mouth and stopped her from talking anymore. He knew that someone who had had their memories wiped had a hard time whenever someone broached the subject. Pain, memory lapse, even unconsciousness were all side effects. This girl...she was doing much, much more than broaching the subject. "Stop."

"But sir, I think that you're my—"

"Samantha Rosa Nelson, where have you been?" came a voice suddenly, and both of them turned their eyes to the sky. A woman on a broom was silhouetted by the rising sun, making them both shield their eyes. "I've been worried sick!"

"Mom?" the girl asked, her eyes wide. "Shit. I-I've got to go," she said quickly to Viktor, hopping onto her broomstick.

"You're gonna get your mouth washed out with soap if you keep that language up," the woman said as she landed next to her daughter, catching the back of Sam's collar before the girl ran off. "You're not goin' anywhere, girl."

Viktor looked at the woman with a sick feeling in his stomach. She was tall, maybe five foot nine or ten, with delicate arms and shoulders. He remembered the old Leigh Ann to be on the curvy side, but the woman in front of him was now fit and trim. Her short brown hair was curly and wisped around her heart-shaped face. Her eyes were the color of cinnamon, her cheekbones high upon her face. There were few resemblances between her and her daughter, whom she was chastising at the moment.

"Leahn," he whispered, his heart being stabbed in his chest.

She suddenly froze in her spot, no longer chastising her daughter. She didn't look at him. She let her daughter go. "Samantha...go help sort the tickets."

"But Momma—"

"Now, Samantha."

The girl took one heated look at her mother before throwing one leg over her Reynolds, giving a last pleading look at Viktor, before speeding off with quite a bit of skill.

Leigh Ann Nelson then turned towards him, her dark cinnamon eyes filled with fear, anger, and hesitation. And then there was something else, something that Viktor couldn't figure out. He felt as if he wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms. He wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to tell her that everything would be alright.

"Viktor Krum," she said off-handedly, holding out her hand. In the moment that he'd let his feelings get away from him, she'd covered her face in an emotionless mask. He shook it numbly. "Good to see you again."

"And...and you," he said back, wondering at how soft her hands were, but how callused the fingertips were. He felt as if he had known this woman intimately, but his mind wouldn't let him stay on the subject. It felt as if the memory was on the edge of his brain, but every time he got closer to it, it would fade. "I half not seen you for years."

"Since the Triwizard Tournament, yeah." She took a deep breath and blinked her eyes a couple of times as she released his hand. "Are you ready to lose?"

He smirked at her, remembering that he had gotten out of the Triwizard Tournament with less injuries than her. "No. My team vill vin my last game."

Her eyebrows rose to the top of her forehead. "Your last game? Viktor Krum is having his last game?"

"Yes. I take it you still half a few more years left?" She nodded solemnly, looking off into the distance. For a moment there was a tense silence between them, until he spoke up again. "Your daughter, she ees beautiful."

Leigh Ann bit her lip, nodding slowly. "Thank you."

"Her father?"

It took a moment for her to answer, but finally she looked him dead in the eye and said, "Dead."

"I am sorry."

"It's over now," she said abruptly, turning her eyes from his, looking out to where her daughter was arguing with a short, pudgy man with flame red hair. If Viktor hadn't known better, the man was a Weasley, like Ron, who was a Keeper for the Chudley Cannons. But he wasn't. He must have been the sales manager. "I guess I should go help ou—my daughter." Leigh Ann looked flustered but loving as she watched her daughter.

Viktor grabbed her arm before she could leave. When she looked up at him, he saw vulnerability in her beautiful cinnamon eyes. "Leahn..."

"Viktor, now is not the time," she whispered, her face suddenly becoming paler. "I-I can't do this."

"Do vhat? I just vant to talk," he said simply, trying to figure out why she was nervous all of a sudden. He stepped forward until his body was pressed up against hers, trying to figure out why he felt the need to be close to her. He wanted to make her blush, to make her smile. "Do I make you...nervous?"

Obviously very flustered, Leigh Ann pulled out of his grasp and took a step backwards. "Of course not. I'm a fully-grown woman, Mr. Krum...even a handsome man such as yourself isn't going to unnerve me."

"Are you alright?" he then asked, noticing the pained look on her face. She then gasped and gritted her teeth, closing her eyes so that she couldn't look at him. "Leahn?"

"Just...don't! How long have you known?"

Viktor was sure that what she was referring to was what her daughter had been speaking of earlier. He took a deep breath, swallowed, and watched said daughter fly around a good distance behind her mother. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what Samantha had been talking about...but he at least deserved to know if he'd had his memory erased. "A little vhile."

Leigh Ann turned her back on him and closed in on herself. Her shoulders shook in the beginning of a sob. Viktor had no clue why. "Why didn't you come to me? Wait. Don't answer that. I know why. You were so disgusted with me for erasing your memory, you just..."

"I knew it."

"Sam!"

Samantha hopped down off of her broomstick and stood between Viktor and her mother. An accusing finger was pointed and a fury appeared on Sam's face. "You erased his memory, you hid him from me!"

Leigh Ann turned on her daughter with tears falling from her eyes. Her hands were fisted at her sides and she was visibly shaking. "Samantha Rosa Nelson, this is none of your business!"

"It is my business! He's my father!"

The static that filled the air was palpable. Leigh Ann fell to her knees and cried silently. Samantha turned her watery eyes up to Viktor, who broke at the sight of his own eyes staring back at him. He had no idea what these feelings inside of him were, no idea why he felt the need to bring this child in his arms, but it felt...right.

He softly hummed a song to her as she cried against his shoulder. "I'm sorry...to half left you. Had I known..."

"You didn't, though," Leigh Ann said softly from where she was kneeling. "We were in trouble, Viktor. We were in trouble and danger and I couldn't lose you. So I made you forget me."

Sam looked up from Viktor's shoulder with fire in her—his—eyes. "Us! You made him forget me, too!"

Viktor hushed his...his daughter...again and slowly let go of her. He then bent down next to Leigh Ann and put one hand against the side of her face. Her cinnamon eyes looked up at him, filled with tears, and didn't look away. "I must half loffed you, once, to half made child vith you."

She put her small, soft hands on top of his and nodded. "I loved you so, so much. That's why I gave you up."

He stared into those eyes that he felt he could stare into for eternity and knelt there for a moment. "Is...is it over?"

Leigh Ann nodded and threw herself into his arms. "I should have found you after it was over, but you were so happy and oblivious, and I was so broken..."

It felt so right to have her against him, to hold her as she cried. He stroked her back and her hair and her face, raining little kisses all over. Little bits of her came back into his memory-their first hug, date, kiss...slowly, it returned to him. Not all of it, which would take much longer to recover. But something was fixing itself inside of him.

So much emotion... Is this what I've been missing in life? A wife? He looked at the beautiful woman in front of him and gently gave her a kiss on the forehead. A child? Samantha stood behind them, a perfect mixture of him and Leigh Ann, looking scared and hopeful at the same time. "I...I could learn to loff you again, I think," he said as he turned back to Leigh Ann, hands on either side of her face.

The shocked look on her face told him absolutely nothing about what she was feeling.

"Are you going to be alvight, loff?"

She just laughed and kissed him.