August 18th, 1994
With a whirl of scenery that almost made Mary regret the large breakfast she'd eaten earlier, the Portkey spat them out on the top of a grassy knoll. Sirius landed gracefully as always, and threw his head back and laughed at the sight of her gripping fistfuls of thick plushy grass just to keep the world from spinning.
"Portkeys must hate you." Sirius bit his lip to try and contain his amusement. "You okay, kid?"
Mary shot him a halfhearted glare. "Yeah."
"Our tent should be over there." Sirius pointed to the area just next to the stadium. "We'll be in the VIP section. It's reserved for the players and Ministry officials."
"How'd you swing that?" Mary asked in astonishment, standing up and wiping her hands on her trousers.
Sirius brushed off his sleeve and sent her a conspiratorial glance. "I have connections. And they owe me over Azkaban."
Mary raised an eyebrow at his petulant tone and shrugged. "Will we be sitting in the Minister's box too?"
"I would have it no other way," Sirius said in mock pompousness. "I'll take all the reparations I can get."
Mary rolled her eyes as they made their way through the bustling meadow. Wizards and witches in Ministry robes scuttled back and forth, waving their wands and casting incantations that she couldn't understand.
They were pretty much ignored until they walked up to where a portly wizard in grey robes sat in the shade, sipping a bright coloured drink with a small umbrella at the top of the glass.
"Ludo!" Sirius greeted him jovially.
"Black!" 'Ludo' responded in equal fervour. "You made it!"
Sirius bowed his head proudly. "Wouldn't miss another match."
Ludo's eyes shifted toward Mary and she almost felt like glaring back at him in response to him staring avidly at her scar. Sirius must have sensed her apprehension, putting a steady hand on her shoulder.
"My goddaughter Mary." Sirius introduced her. "Mary, this is Ludo Bagman. He'll be commentating the match."
Ludo thrust a pudgy hand toward her. "A pleasure, Miss Potter."
"Mr. Bagman." Mary shook his hand and nodded tightly.
"We were looking for our tent in the VIP section," Sirius said happily. "Can you point us the right way, Ludo?"
"It's under Fidelius this year." Ludo squared his broad shoulders and stood proudly. "Extra security thanks to our new Minister."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out two small slips of parchment and handed them each one. Mary took hers carefully and opened it at the same time as Sirius. 'The VIP section can be found to the right of Arena service entrance number 7.' It read. Mary looked up to see the spell activate and the wards shimmer as they revealed over twenty tents, with small alleys running between them. They all looked like Muggle pop-up cabana tents, with thick canvas curtains covering all four sides, and small clear plastic windows every couple of feet.
Mary almost jumped when the slip of parchment turned to dust in her hand. She'd never imagined that there was such a thing as self-destructing parchment.
"You two are in tent number twenty-one." Ludo laughed merrily. "I'm in number four if you need me."
"You'll have to join me for a pint later." Sirius patted Ludo on the arm.
Ludo leaned toward them with a gleam in his eyes. "Watch out for tents one and two. Our foreign guests haven't arrived yet, but come this evening I suspect that things will become far more interesting."
Sirius nodded with a small smirk. "We'll keep that in mind."
Her godfather steered her through the rows of identical tents with a skip in his step that was contagious. The giddiness Mary felt was expanded on as her eyes swept from the top of the stadium to the tent that she would call home for the next week.
"Here we are." Sirius grinned at her as he pulled open the small flap on the tent. "Ladies first."
Mary stuck out her tongue at him in disapproval before walking into what could only be described as the poshest flat she'd ever seen. It was so nice that she doubted even Aunt Petunia could find something to complain about. A large sitting room surrounded the entrance, large leather couches acted like a barrier from the massive dining area and fully equipped kitchen. Dobby was standing near the stove, his ears flapping around as he hummed a joyful disco tune, cooking something that smelled fantastic.
"I love magic," Mary whispered, her mouth open in awe.
Sirius laughed loudly, flopping down onto the couch. "Me too, kid."
Mary walked through to where the large bathroom was, then rounded the corner to find a large bedroom where a huge four poster bed with plush cream and white bedding sat in the centre of the room.
"Siri?" Mary asked as she walked back into the sitting area. "Why don't we decorate Grimmauld Place like this place, but put colourful pictures and posters everywhere?"
Sirius considered it for a moment. "I think my mother just rolled over in her grave. Hell, why not? I love that idea!"
Mary took another look around and could almost imagine the differences in Grimmauld Place.
"You take that room, Mary," Sirius yelled from the other side of the tent. "Dobby's already brought our things, so you're free to do as you like. I'm going to take a nap."
"Okay," Mary replied in a daze.
Dobby walked up to her, brushing his spindly hands across his apron. "Dobby has brought your broom if you feel up to flying."
"Thanks, Dobby." Mary pulled him into a quick hug. "You're the best."
Dobby's eyes watered and he smiled brightly at her before popping away.
Mary changed into her Quidditch gear and grabbed her Firebolt from its spot on her dressing table. With a spell Parvati taught her, she watched in the small mirror as her dark hair plaited itself and spun around into a thick bun. She donned her gloves and set out for the grounds.
A small mousy witch was passing in front of the tent, not looking where she was going, and slammed into Mary, then stumbled backwards, raising angry eyes at her. "Watch it, girl!"
Mary bit her tongue and extended a hand to help the woman to her feet. "Are you okay?"
"I'm so-sorry." The witch stuttered, staring at the famous lightning bolt scar with wide eyes. "You're Mary Potter!"
"Can you tell me where I can fly without being in the way?" Mary asked her politely, trying to stave off the awkwardness of the situation. "I'm getting a bit rusty on the broom."
The witch pulled her eyes away from the scar and shook her head as she pulled a small piece of parchment and a quill from her pocket, scribbling something down and signing it with a flourish.
"You can use the pitch, Miss Potter," the woman squeaked, handing her the slip of parchment. "If anyone bothers you just show them this."
Mary wanted to argue that she didn't need or want special treatment, but afraid that her presence would send the older woman into a heart attack, accepted the gesture gratefully. The moment the mousy witch was out of sight, Mary pulled a tuft of hair free from the bun and covered her scar from view, not wanting any more attention.
The pitch was empty, as was the rest of the stadium, when she walked onto the sidelines. It was a moment that she would always remember as being the most surreal thing she'd ever experienced as a frequent flyer. Walking out of the player's entrance and standing there, the stands surrounding her, was a stark reminder of the future she would never have. She had a predestined fate that she could not fight, but standing there made it hard not to want something far more than the crap hand that she had been dealt in life.
Without another thought Mary grasped the handle of her broom and let it pull her high into the air. She flew in lazy circles, watching as the stray witch or wizard would come through to charm or spell parts of the stands before walking away again. Eventually she blocked it all out, focusing on the feeling and nothing else. While she was there high in the air, there were no expectations or demands, only freedom. Freedom that surrounded her like the trillions of molecules in the air, holding her tightly and safely, never letting her go.
Mary pulled the practice Snitch out of her pocket and tapped it with her wand, setting it to professional mode before letting it go. The tiny golden ball fluttered out of sight as she closed her eyes and flew in lazy circles, letting the Snitch get farther and farther away. In that blissful moment, she was a professional Quidditch player, famous only for being a world renowned Seeker. The crowd cheered when she flew through the stands and her one and only purpose was to catch the Snitch and win the match for her team.
After a few minutes her eyes snapped open, scanning the area for any sign of her target. She pushed the Firebolt to its limit as she rounded the pitch, searching for the Snitch. Moments later she spotted the glint of gold out of the corner of her eye and darted toward it as it began a straight descent for the ground far below.
Unlike her disastrous match against Hufflepuff, and less strenuous than her match against Slytherin, Mary managed to pull her broom up just before she collided with the ground. A wide smile tugged at her cheeks as she clutched the Snitch in her hand and landed gracefully on the lush green grass.
"You are not to be here," a heavily accented voice said from behind her.
Mary spun around to face a group of seven young men standing at the mouth of the player's entrance. They all wore the Bulgarian team colours, each of them holding professional brooms.
"I apologise." Mary ducked her head slightly. "I was just leaving."
"You fly vell." One of the Bulgarians pushed his way to the front of the group. "Very vell."
"Thank you." Mary smiled slightly. "I love flying."
"I could use practice against another Seeker," the stocky boy said quickly.
"Viktor!" One of the others growled.
"I'm Mary." She took a step forward and extended her hand to the boy. "Mary Potter."
His eyes stayed on her scar for a brief second before he extended his own hand and shook hers with a gentle grip. "Viktor Krum."
"I have to get back to my godfather." Mary nodded politely. "I apologise for holding up your practice."
Face burning in mortification, she fled the stadium before she could say or do anything else to embarrass herself. The last thing she was worried about while flying was whether or not she was being watched, but to know that an entire professional team had been watching her was almost horrifying.
It seemed as though the Bulgarians were not the only ones to arrive while she was up in the air. The Irish had arrived and were all mulling about in a drunken frenzy. Leprechauns darted back and forth between tents laughing merrily, while Mary made her way back to where she and Sirius were staying. Bulgarians worked side by side with the Irish as they discussed mundane things like laundry spells, while others argued loudly over their Quidditch teams and who was better.
It was almost like a small community that existed and thrived on Quidditch.
If I survive the war, Mary thought, trapped in a melancholy state of mind. This is where I want to live.
"Mary!" Sirius shouted, holding up a flagon of mead. "There you are."
She set her broom down and joined him and Bagman by the fire in front of the portly wizard's tent. "I went flying."
"Heard you were quite good at it." Bagman smiled at her. "Joined Gryffindor as a first year. That has to be some kind of record."
Mary nodded wordlessly, accepting a pint of Butterbeer from Sirius. It had an odd taste to it, but she ignored that, not wanting to be rude. Her godfather looked quite plastered and honestly she hoped that Remus showed up before he entered the mode of happy-go-lucky-Padfoot that always ended up in trouble. It wasn't that he was violent or obnoxious, but he always ended up far too impulsive for her to handle alone.
Bagman's house elves kept them well supplied with food and drink, leaving Mary with fledgling excuses that were shot down by the two older men. For the most part, she sat beside Sirius, either watching the flames in the fire or observing the way the other people in the VIP section interacted. Whether they were from Bulgaria or Ireland, they showed no hesitation in making conversation with each other, always finding some common ground. It made her wistful to think that this is what the Wizarding world should be like. There was no need for blood supremacy or bias between magical people. They would simply coexist in peace.
Her vision swam and she felt like she was floating on either the edge of sleep or outright insanity. Flashes of light in the distance seemed brighter and the loud laughter of the Quidditch players rang in her ears while the strong scent of alcohol threatened to turn her stomach.
"I'm going back to the tent." Mary elbowed Sirius. "I'm tired."
Sirius looked at her with one eye half open. "It's just now dark."
Mary pointed at her watch. "It's well after midnight, Siri. Remus is probably waiting for us."
"Tell him I'll be back soon," Sirius said in a happy daze. "Just gonna have one more drink."
It wasn't until she stood up that the world seemed to tilt on its axis, bending reality from the most outrageous of fantasies. It seemed as though the whole world was slightly sideways as she stumbled from tent to tent, hoping that the next one would be her own. People milled about shooting off fireworks and talking loudly, distracting her and making her feel even more lost as not one of them seemed to notice her presence.
A thin hand invaded her line of sight and disappeared, then grabbed her forearm and gently pulled her into the nearest tent. Flickering orange light bounced off the walls as light melodic whispers filled the air. Mary shut her eyes and sat on what she assumed was a velvet couch, trying to regain her composure.
"Poor child," a soft voice said from beside her. "She needs strong tea, Amara, and something light to eat."
Surprise had her scooting away and facing the person beside her. A stunning woman with bright blue eyes stared at her in sympathy, her hands brushing the loose hair behind Mary's ears. The woman's profound beauty made her gasp and almost lose all sense of self.
"I'm so sorry," Mary slurred, trying to stand up. "I was just trying to find my tent."
"Stay child," the woman replied calmly. "You are welcome here until you are well enough to walk on your own again."
"What happened?" She whispered aloud. "I just had a few Butterbeers."
The woman narrowed her eyes and clicked her tongue. "It's a common thing with one of these matches that the barrels of ale are spiked with something a bit stronger. You will be fine after a good night's rest."
"I apologise for the intrusion." Mary put her head in her hands, pressing her fingers to her temples to try and stabilise the universe.
The smell of tea invaded her senses and her eyes focused on the young woman who held the cup toward her, lips pursed in disdain.
"Thank you," she whispered, accepting the mug and picking up a small sandwich.
"She does not understand English," the older woman said quietly. "Like the rest she only speaks Bulgarian or French."
"Oh," Mary said dumbly, pushing the loose hair away from her face.
The woman reeled back as though she had been struck, staring at her with wide fearful eyes. "You're the Potter girl!"
She sighed, trying to smile despite her unease. "I'm just Mary."
"Quickly, child!" The woman's hands fluttered over her shoulders as though brushing dust from them. "Finish your tea and I will guide you back to your tent. You should not be unguarded. There are too many here that would wish harm on you!"
Mary stared at her in confusion. "From one of the Quidditch teams? I'm not bad, but I'm not that good."
"No," the pale haired woman said, refilling her cup and handing her another sandwich. "The field is already filled with wizards of all backgrounds, but rest assured that there are plenty out there that would love to find you alone and inebriated. Although it has been many years, there are still circles of those that bought into the Dark One's beliefs."
The woman rattled off something in Bulgarian that Mary didn't even begin to understand. It was only luck, she realised moments later, that the woman wasn't actually speaking to her, but one of her friends.
"Dobby?" Mary slurred out, covering her ears in anticipation for his arrival.
Moments later he appeared in front of her, his ears laying flat on his head as his large eyes narrowed at the women around them. "We need to be going now, Mary Potter."
Mary turned to her host and smiled as best as she could. "Thank you for everything. I really am sorry to have disturbed your evening."
The older women nodded warmly. "Be safe, child."
Dobby grasped her arm and gave no warning before popping them back to the brightly lit tent. Mary fell to the floor on her hands and knees, grasping at the rug like a lifeline holding her to the ground. Dobby patted her back gently, but it only seemed to make her stomach roll even more.
"Mary!" Remus gasped, his footsteps sounding closer and closer. "Are you okay? Where's Sirius?"
"Sirius is at Ludo Bagman's tent." Mary groaned, leaning on the side of the couch.
"Are you drunk?" Remus hissed in shock.
"Ouch." Mary covered her ears at his loud tone. "Spiked Butterbeer. Blame Bagman."
Remus sighed loudly. "Can you get her to bed, Dobby? I need to find Sirius."
"Dobby will, sir," Dobby whispered, taking her arm and basically pulling her to the room on the other side of the tent.
One minute Dobby was pulling the cover over her and the next thing she knew, Remus was pulling the cover back, bright sunlight filtering in through the plastic windows, making her want to bury her head in the sand or claw her eyes out in an attempt to get away from the headache inducing brilliance of the morning.
"Get up, Mary Jane." Remus sighed and nudged her. "There's a young man waiting for you at the door."
"Wha...?" She squinted through one eye. "Who is it?"
Remus shook his head. "He didn't say. Only asked if he could speak with you."
"Ugh.." Mary groaned and stalked toward the door.
When she pulled the flap back, she couldn't help but let out a little squeak of shock as she recognized Viktor Krum, standing there in his Quidditch robes, holding a broom and staring at her.
"Hi," she said finally.
"Olena asked me to check on you," Krum said gruffly. "She vants to know if you are okay."
"I'm fine," she said confidently, but ended up falling over when she misjudged the pole that she meant to lean on. "Just need a strong cup of tea. Come on in."
"I must go." He shook his head.
"Come on." Mary stood aside and waved him into the sitting room. "I might not be the best company at the moment, but I'd feel like complete shit if I didn't offer you tea."
He was reluctant at first, but at the sight of the large breakfast Dobby put on the table, he stopped protesting. Breakfast was the last thing Mary wanted to see, in fact, just looking at it made her feel ill.
"You drank the ale." Viktor noted, accepting a cup and plate from Dobby. "Never drink the ale."
"I'll keep that in mind." Mary groused, pressing her fingers to her temples.
"For you, Mary Potter." Dobby placed a glass half full of frothy liquid in front of her. "Drink it up, young miss. You will feel right as rain after."
Mary stared at the glass in confusion, lifting it to her nose to smell and abruptly pulling it away as the strong scent of mint burnt her sinuses. "Bloody Hell!"
Remus poked his head out from his bedroom and laughed. "It's a Sobering Draught, Mary Jane. Best to just drink it."
He disappeared from view while Mary grimaced at the glass in disgust. Without another thought, she upturned the foul tasting liquid and drank it in one gulp. The flavour quite literally took her breath away and she choked and coughed repeatedly before regaining the ability to breathe.
A deep chuckle shook the table and she looked up to see Krum watching her in amusement. "It is meant to be taken in small sips."
"Thanks for the warning." She grinned sarcastically, then picked up her cup of tea to drown out the bad taste in her mouth. "So, Olena sent you?"
"Yes," he replied quickly.
"How do you know her?" She asked curiously, wondering why the Quidditch star had accepted the task of tracking her down.
"They travel vith the team." Krum put his fork down.
It was one of those moments where she wished she could smack herself. A tent full of beautiful women that travelled with the Bulgarians. They were Veela. Of all the tents to stumble into, it had to be the Veela tent. She looked up to see Viktor staring at her arms and had the sudden urge to flee the room. Why hadn't she grabbed a dressing gown?
"They were very kind in helping me out," Mary said, putting her hands on her lap to keep her arms hidden. "To be honest I think I was a few steps away from passing out in Leprechaun territory."
Krum shook his head and ate another piece of bacon. "Thank you for the meal."
"This one was all Dobby." Mary looked around for the little elf.
Krum pulled a silver pocket watch from his robes and looked at the time, something that seemed odd considering that there were numerous spells that could tell or even sing the time. "I must go."
"Uh, okay, thanks for checking up on me," Mary said awkwardly as she stood and walked him out. "I'll be sure to send a thank you to Olena as well."
"I fly before breakfast each morning." He turned to her. "You are velcome to join me if you like."
"Really?" Her mouth gaped open at the offer. "I wouldn't want to impose."
"It is more productive to fly against another," he said shortly. "And my teammates do not like mornings."
Mary shrugged her shoulders, a thrill running through her. "I'll see you there at dawn."
With a quick nod, he left, leaving Mary feeling like she'd woken up in some kind of dreamland. Her entire body felt like it was floating as she sat absently at the table and started making a plate for herself.
"You're putting eggs in your tea." Remus lifted a brow at her as he sat down in the spot Krum vacated moments before.
"Krum asked me to go flying with him," she whispered, as though saying the words too loud might make them untrue. "A professional Seeker wants to fly with me."
"Do I need to have a talk with him?" Remus narrowed his eyes. "He's far too old for you. I don't think this is a good idea."
"What?" Mary leaned back in shock. "You honestly can't think he likes me like that? I mean, he's a professional Seeker. He could have anyone in the world. He'd have to be flat out stupid and brain damaged to like me like that."
Remus lifted a brow at her. "You're beautiful, Mary Jane. I don't like the way he just showed up here, not knowing you at all and coming up with an invitation like that. I don't trust him."
"Relax, Moony." Mary begged. "Olena asked him to check on me. I stumbled into her tent last night and she helped me sober up enough to call Dobby. Krum was just being nice."
"Who's Olena?" He asked imperiously. "His mother?"
"No." Mary shook her head in exasperation. "Olena is one of the Bulgarian Veela mascots."
Remus stood so abruptly that he upset his tea. "You were with a Veela last night? I'm going to kill Sirius!"
Mary put her head in her hands and groaned. Somehow, she'd gone from having no one who cared, to having a whole lot of people that were overprotective in the span of a year.
"Olena was very nice." Mary stood up in her defence. "They gave me tea and sandwiches and made sure that I was safe. Not to mention she had Krum check on me. Let it go, Moony. I made it back in one piece."
Mary left the room, wanting to get ready to go out and explore the area some more, but when she walked into the bathroom the sight in the mirror almost scared her. Her hair was sticking out in every direction, green paint was smeared on her cheek, grass and dirt stains covered her hands. She was a wreck. It was no wonder as to why Krum had fled as fast as he could.
Nervous energy kept her on edge for the rest of the day. Hours were spent polishing her broom and trimming the twigs on the end of it. She paced through the tent reading Josef Wronski's book as though it held the secrets to all of her problems. Even Remus' non stop badgering of a badly hungover Sirius was enough to pull her thoughts away. And much later that night, she tossed and turned, trying to mentally prepare herself for the morning.
At the first light of dawn she crept out of the tent, leaving a short note on the table, letting Sirius and Remus know where she would be. Tendrils of smoke from dying campfires drifted through the cool misty morning air, leaving the scent of heady oak lingering around her as she walked towards the massive stadium. The quiet atmosphere relaxed her frayed nerves and left her feeling excited but surprisingly peaceful.
Krum was already standing in the middle of the pitch when she walked out of the players' entrance. It looked as though he was deep in thought and she almost felt bad for disturbing him. She cleared her throat and he turned around, his wand in hand.
"Morning." She greeted him cautiously. "Everything alright?"
"Morning." He nodded swiftly.
Trying her best to ease the awkwardness, Mary pulled her practice Snitch out of her pocket and held it in the air. "Ready?"
"Let it go." Krum replied calmly. "Ve vill vait until it is lost."
Mary released her grip and watched as the Snitch unfurled its golden wings and launched itself into the dim morning light. Understanding that Krum wasn't a very talkative person, Mary sat down on the damp grass and tried to think of a safe topic for conversation.
"You play Quidditch at school?" Viktor asked, sitting a few feet away.
"Yeah." Mary shrugged. "Going on four years. You?"
"I played for three years before I vas signed." He admitted quietly.
Mary stared up at the sky, letting the mist fall onto her face. "It's different when I'm up there. Like it's the only true freedom I'll ever feel. Honestly I could live without playing Quidditch, but flying is something I could never give up. No expectations or rules, just the wide open sky."
"No." Krum shook his head. "I could not live vithout flying either."
They sat there on the dew covered pitch in silence, watching as flocks of birds flew overhead and the sounds out in the campground grew louder. Mary closed her eyes and thought about spending days just like this, where the only thing to prepare for was the next Quidditch match. Where the only thing she had to worry about was whether or not she'd catch the Snitch.
"I think it's lost." Krum's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
Mary opened her eyes to see him staring at her in confusion.
"Let's go then." Mary smirked and mounted her broom.
They took to the air and went in separate directions. All of the awkwardness seemed to melt away and she let the wind embrace her as she sped through the mist, zig-zagging from one side of the pitch to the other. A sparkle of gold flashed in the corner of her eye and she turned and darted toward it like a lightning bolt. Krum was suddenly at her side, bent over his broom, his eyes glued on the elusive Snitch. They were getting closer and closer to it by the second, each of them urging their brooms faster.
And then it disappeared.
Krum rattled off a succession of what Mary could only translate as curses in Bulgarian. Mary laughed and pulled her broom higher into the air, going back to searching for the sneaky Golden Snitch. But to her surprise, it appeared straight ahead, all the way on the other side of the pitch. She was off like a shot, twisting and turning to gain the best aerodynamic advantage.
Once again, Krum flew up beside her, but instead of focusing on the Snitch, he tried to ram his broom into the side of hers. A chuckle escaped her as she executed a barrel roll over him, avoiding his attempt at sabotage. By the time they got back on track the Snitch was gone again.
"Bloody hell." Mary groaned, mock glaring at her opponent. "I blame you."
"It is a good technique to learn ven needing to vait for your team to score more points." Krum smirked, holding out his hand to reveal the Snitch. "And also makes good distraction."
"That was bloody brilliant!" She exclaimed. "I didn't even see you catch it."
"Tell me about this Hogwarts." Krum handed her the Snitch and flew back into the air. "There has been talk lately of my school visiting there."
Ah, the Tournament, something she was trying not to think about. "It's massive. I think it took me half of first year to remember how to get to class. We're split up into four houses that compliment our personal qualities. If you end up visiting, I suggest you visit Hogsmeade. Honeydukes has some of the best chocolate around and Zonkos has some really neat pranking products."
"I see." He shrugged in a non-committal way.
"So how's life at Durmstrang?" Mary asked curiously.
"Strict." Krum sighed. "The rules are law. Breaking the rules comes with harsh punishment. I will be quite happy vhen I never have to set foot in that place again."
"Surely you have friends that you'd miss?" She wondered, trying to remember that information from Harry's memories but coming up blank.
"A few friends." Viktor looked away and stared at the grassy hillside in what looked like sadness.
"Hogwarts was my first home," Mary whispered. "That's where I made my first friends. I can't imagine never going back."
"You are very famous though," Krum said as though it was obvious.
Mary frowned at that. "Not for a good reason."
Viktor grimaced. "I am sorry. I did not mean to offend."
Mary smiled crookedly. "I'm not offended. I guess it's just the stigma of everyone knowing your name. I thought you'd be the type of guy to be walking around surrounded by girls and always showing off."
Viktor clenched his jaw. "Truly? You thought that of me?"
"You're Viktor Krum, International Quidditch star." She elbowed him gently. "No, to be honest, I never thought much past what strategies you used to win the game and what type of broom you had."
Viktor laughed quietly. "A Firebolt, same as you."
"I used to have a Nimbus 2000." Mary admitted. "It was a great broom. I miss it."
"Vhat happened to it?" Viktor asked curiously.
"I crashed it." Mary pulled up her sleeves. "You can still see some of the splinters."
Viktor grimaced in sympathy. "At least your broom vill always be vith you."
Mary laughed. "That's a nice way to look at it."
Krum turned his gaze back to the sky. "Release the Snitch?"
"Hell yes." Mary grinned, releasing the golden ball into the air once more.
Meeting Krum on the pitch each morning became a routine over the next few days. They never talked much, both content with flying and simply being there without any more expectations or rules to stop them. Sometimes Krum would teach her to curse in Bulgarian, other times she would show him the Marauder's Map and point out the interesting, and most dangerous, parts of Hogwarts. But then the day came that they were finally told that the pitch was off limits. Krum said his goodbyes and left to join his team before the big match, while Mary went back to the tent with her godfathers.
Neither of them were happy with her spending time around Krum, but it's not like they were doing anything other than flying. And given Sirius' escapades with Bagman, neither of them had an argument strong enough to stop her. All in all, she couldn't remember a time when she'd felt more free to just be herself. And she never wanted it to end.
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