Post by Alek on Mar 22, 2006 14:54:02 GMT -5
The game had been crazy. Bulgaria had won, of course, and thousands of fans were scrambling for their tents to party endlessly for days. The team?
Pah. The team was drenched in sweat, and had spent a good half an hour just a mass of limbs and yells. They had cried, laughed, and just had a damned good time. In the center of it all? None other than Viktor Krum. He knew that the attack of the team was nothing compared to what he would get from the parties they were going to spend the next two weeks involved in. At least two weeks. Maybe more, if they were lucky.
After showering, Krum found himself being shoved through thousands of fans who were all screaming and clawing at him, but he didn't raise his gaze to any of them, just staring straight ahead of them. Eyes that were an odd blend of browns, yellows, and golds, remained focused and narrowed slightly. The constant look of intensity on his face had often earned the assumption that he was incapable of showing emotion.
And yet, about eight years ago, he had met the one young woman who could draw his attention from the tiny gold ball that he spent his life chasing. The Tri-Wizard Tournament had been something he was certain he would win... and even though he didn't, the publicity was amazing, and had he not gotten involved in it, he would never have met her.
Who was this girl from eight years ago?
Then, she had been fifteen, and he was seventeen. No problem getting into the Tournament. And yes, she had been wary because of their age difference, but he coaxed her into going to the Yule Ball with him.
To a young man who wasn't used to such a delicate, beautiful girl, he spent most of the night in a daze. Her hair, her skin, everything about her was so wonderfully soft. Viktor could remember dancing with her, the way her steps were cautious, but perfect, unlike he, who was so clumsy and stupid on his feet.
It had been eight years since he'd seen her. Bulgaria hadn't gone to the 1998 World Cup, but they were back for 2002. But had Viktor heard from Hermione? ...No. They'd agreed to stop writing since there was no way he could get back to see her with training kicking up several notches. Quidditch had, once again, overwhelmed his life.
Just like this overwhelming crowd. When Viktor stopped walking, everyone stopped moving, all eyes focused on him. All he had to do was raise an eyebrow at the wizard who was escorting him, and the security around them began to push back the group so he could breathe.
Rotating his broad shoulders, he exhaled softly, thick chest falling slightly under the maroon sweater that was clinging to his sculpted torso. Unbelievably thick arms were threatening to burst the sleeves with every swing of his arms. HIs walk wasn't the most graceful ever, but he didn't need to be agile on the ground. Just in the air.
Finally, he reached the tall building and was ushered inside, and when the door fell shut, blissful silence fell upon his ears.
"Now, Viktor, you just meet with the Minister and the others, take some pictures, and then we'll get you back to your room for more rest."
"Have a bath ready." Was his simple grunt as he pushed through the double doors. Formalities were exchanged and Viktor stood back as his representatives handled everything for him. All he had to do was stand there and look... well, like Viktor Krum, the best damned Seeker out there.
Pah. The team was drenched in sweat, and had spent a good half an hour just a mass of limbs and yells. They had cried, laughed, and just had a damned good time. In the center of it all? None other than Viktor Krum. He knew that the attack of the team was nothing compared to what he would get from the parties they were going to spend the next two weeks involved in. At least two weeks. Maybe more, if they were lucky.
After showering, Krum found himself being shoved through thousands of fans who were all screaming and clawing at him, but he didn't raise his gaze to any of them, just staring straight ahead of them. Eyes that were an odd blend of browns, yellows, and golds, remained focused and narrowed slightly. The constant look of intensity on his face had often earned the assumption that he was incapable of showing emotion.
And yet, about eight years ago, he had met the one young woman who could draw his attention from the tiny gold ball that he spent his life chasing. The Tri-Wizard Tournament had been something he was certain he would win... and even though he didn't, the publicity was amazing, and had he not gotten involved in it, he would never have met her.
Who was this girl from eight years ago?
Then, she had been fifteen, and he was seventeen. No problem getting into the Tournament. And yes, she had been wary because of their age difference, but he coaxed her into going to the Yule Ball with him.
To a young man who wasn't used to such a delicate, beautiful girl, he spent most of the night in a daze. Her hair, her skin, everything about her was so wonderfully soft. Viktor could remember dancing with her, the way her steps were cautious, but perfect, unlike he, who was so clumsy and stupid on his feet.
It had been eight years since he'd seen her. Bulgaria hadn't gone to the 1998 World Cup, but they were back for 2002. But had Viktor heard from Hermione? ...No. They'd agreed to stop writing since there was no way he could get back to see her with training kicking up several notches. Quidditch had, once again, overwhelmed his life.
Just like this overwhelming crowd. When Viktor stopped walking, everyone stopped moving, all eyes focused on him. All he had to do was raise an eyebrow at the wizard who was escorting him, and the security around them began to push back the group so he could breathe.
Rotating his broad shoulders, he exhaled softly, thick chest falling slightly under the maroon sweater that was clinging to his sculpted torso. Unbelievably thick arms were threatening to burst the sleeves with every swing of his arms. HIs walk wasn't the most graceful ever, but he didn't need to be agile on the ground. Just in the air.
Finally, he reached the tall building and was ushered inside, and when the door fell shut, blissful silence fell upon his ears.
"Now, Viktor, you just meet with the Minister and the others, take some pictures, and then we'll get you back to your room for more rest."
"Have a bath ready." Was his simple grunt as he pushed through the double doors. Formalities were exchanged and Viktor stood back as his representatives handled everything for him. All he had to do was stand there and look... well, like Viktor Krum, the best damned Seeker out there.