Rating:
PG
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Viktor Krum
Genres:
General Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 08/20/2003
Updated: 08/20/2003
Words: 681
Chapters: 1
Hits: 1,288

The Legend of Viktor Krum

Sergeant Majorette

Story Summary:
Our Viktor is such a modest, self-effacing lad: you might not know it, but he's been interesting since the day he was born...

Chapter Summary:
Our Viktor is such a modest, self-effacing lad; you'd never guess it, but he's been interesting since before he was born...
Posted:
08/20/2003
Hits:
1,288

"That English girl -- why does she write such long letters?" Valja Sokolova Krum watched as her son picked his way word by word through a foot and a half of closely written parchment. Such an unpleasant shock it had been when Viktor, in England for the Triwizard Tournament, had apparently fallen in love with a local witch. Valja had no opinion of English wizarding folk, with their petty bickering, their fear of the world, their pallid, inbred aristocracy; if her Viktor wanted this girl, however, he would have her, mother would see to it.

"I don't mind, Mamo," he replied. "I can practice my English. See here, what she says about their Minister of Magic?"

Valja chuckled. "She's clever, I'll give her that. But you're not -- you don't still...?

Smiling at his mother, Viktor marked his place in the parchment and rolled it up. "Oh, no, Mamo, of course not. She knows nothing about Quidditch, she can barely fly. Anyway I think she is promised to that red-haired boy."

"Aha! Now that's a good family, or so I hear. Poor as dirt, but good strong bloodline, dozens of children. They have a daughter, I believe..."

Viktor laughed out loud, and Valja breathed a sigh of relief. Her son was the precious only child of two youngest borns: there was no pressing need for him to marry young, or ever. There were numberless older cousins to pass on whatever heritage had given them to pass on. Besides, Valja suspected that this young English witch with the impossible name was acting as Dumbledore's creature, helping to build alliances against a rogue wizard, as if the blood of the terrible Khan Krum would kiss the garment of some low-bred British bastard!

Spin, you spinners; Weavers, weave.
Who will our darling marry?
Not the rank swineherd, sister; not the coarse shepherd,
But the clerk, whose fair hands
are perfumed with ink...

Valja Sokolova is fourteen years old; it is time to find her a husband.

All around the table sit the family, except Valja herself, because she is the youngest.

Father says, "Who should marry our littlest girl? Not some peasant or civil servant or shabby backcountry warlock. Let us take Krum's youngest son. He is studying in the capitol; he will take Holy Orders this summer."

Oldest brother Sevdo says, "Anatoly Krum is a fine young man. We have spoken to the family, then?"

Second brother Stojan says, "They'd be agreeable if Valja has no objections."

Older sister Rusha says, "What objection should she have? What is he like?"

Second sister Rada says, "They are not beautiful, those Krums, but they carry themselves well."

Third brother Bojdan says, "But she plays Quidditch, and they say she's good! What if she gets professional offers?"

Fourth brother Dajcho says nothing. He is thinking of taking Orders; a priest brother-in-law would be very convenient. Father drains his wineglass and Mother places her hands flat on the table.

"Done, then," says Mother. "I will set the details with Mme. Krum."

So that is what happens. When she is seventeen and out of school, Valja marries the young priest. And a little later, when she is playing for the Cranes of Plovdiv, careening back and forth across the Pitch, scattering the opposition Chasers no less with her skill with the Beater's club as with her bloodcurdling battle cry, she throws back her head and screams a terrible scream that cuts through the air like a sword. The opposing Chasers are at her side in a moment; the three women guide her gently to the ground. The game goes on for several minutes longer, but after the Bludgers have been recalled by the referees, and it becomes apparent that the Snitch has vanished in the confusion, the victory is awarded to the Cranes as they are one hundred sixty points ahead.

So you can see that it is not true that Viktor Krum was born flying; but look there, at the very first picture taken after his birth. See the fluttering wings sticking out from that tiny hand?


Author notes: "Spin, you spinners" is a real song. If you're ever in NYC, look me up and I'll sing it for you.