This is something totally new and I am not too sure what I think of it yet, but having seen the guy they have selected to play Viktor in GoF I can’t help but feel a little inspired, and I think that everyone needs some love.
Pairing: Viktor Krum/Katie Bell
Disclaimer: The characters within are not mine, they are the property of JK Rowling, Raincoast, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, Warner Bros et al.
Distribution: This story is my creation – although the characters are not – and as such I reserve the right to submit my fic where I feel it suitable.
Feedback: If you feel I deserve it for writing this then I am not disputing you should send me some.
Summary: It’s after the final war – several years past the several war, and over 10-years after the events in GoF. Viktor is in London on business (although what that is I don’t know) and Katie is working in a small pub in Wizarding London.
The first time he saw her he was nearly 18, a man, the representative of his school, and she had been just 15, a mere child, her body still developing, her eyes still sparkling with the intensity of youth.
The second time they had met he was a man with a body strengthened in battle, a 28-year old man who had responsibilities, fighting for a cause that he had long since lost any belief in. She was no longer innocent; her eyes had been dulled with the pain of war, her heart hardened against those who fought in the battle against her friends. He heard somewhere that at some point she had been poisoned, her body and mind paralysed for much of her last year.
He crept into the bar, standing in the shadows as he watched her flitter from table to table, her expression impassive as she shared banter with the customers, filling their orders quickly before moving onto the next table. He hated admitting it, but this girl fascinated him. Despite everything that had happened to her there was some part of her that remained untouched and he wanted to reach out and grasp that with both hands before someone else did.
He could see that she was angry about something, her pale face had reddened as she glared at one of the men at her last table, the lanky freckled git had dared to place a hand on her arse and she wasn’t afraid to let him know that this behaviour wasn’t acceptable, even in a place such as this. Some of the other girls were obvious in their willingness to share their bodies, but Katie Bell wasn’t like that, and part of Viktor’s more possessive soul roared in triumph at that – she was saving herself, although she had no idea quite who she was saving herself for!
He had lost count of the number of nights he had spent watching her, his dark eyes following her every move as she wandered through the crowded, smoke-filled pub. Occasionally he saw her staring off into the distance, her eyes glazed, a soft smile on her face, but these moments when she appeared to be truly vulnerable were few and far between.
Irritated that he let his inexplicable obsession for this girl who likely didn’t know him as anything more than an ex-Bulgarian Quidditch player who had been ruined by war injuries affect his confidence, he tugged the hood of his cloak down and stalked boldly over to the bar, his cloak flapping lightly in the breeze from the poorly insulated windows.
While he wasn’t an overly tall man, a few inches under six feet, Viktor’s bulky build garnered him respect and attention, he nodded at the man behind the bar, who quickly moved to serve him, pouring out a healthy glug of Ogden’s Fire Whisky and a tankard of slightly warm butterbeer. Obviously these were the only two drinks served in the pub, but Viktor didn’t care, they were something to drink and, more importantly, they were an excuse to watch Katie.
Taking his heavy tankard and small chipped glass, Viktor moved over to a table in the far corner of the pub, his hooded eyes watching Katie as she crossed to one of the booths nearby, a fake smile on her pink-painted lips.
Katie had seen him a few times, but this was the first time he had actually moved from the doorway and sat down at a table – one of her tables. She weaved her way through the tightly-packed-together tables and stood behind him, slightly to the right, her pen poised as she quietly asked him “do you want anything to eat?”
He turned his head slightly and raised one eyebrow as Katie started to quickly go through the day’s menu, it was very limited, but Viktor hadn’t eaten since the rather pathetic breakfast Harry had put together at Grimmauld Place, and he was hungry enough that he would eat a horse without any qualms.
Taking a mouthful of the smooth fire whisky, Viktor studied Katie, who continued to list the limited menu, her brow wrinkled slightly as she struggled to remember the smaller details of each of the rather mundane British meals; fish and chips with peas, without peas, with gravy, without; steak and kidney pudding with mashed potato, with chips, with onion rings, with gravy. Clearing his throat with a cough, Viktor mumbled his order, rather conscious that while he had spent much time over the last 10 years travelling around England, he still had a very thick accent that was often rather difficult to understand.
“…And today’s special is tomato soup with cream and a crusty brown roll,” Katie let out a quiet sigh as she finished reeling off the menu, wondering for about the hundredth time why Uri refused to get a few printed up to put on the bar and tables. She knew that the Inky Tavern wasn’t the highest quality pub in London, but she was sure that if they made a little bit of effort they would actually make a profit sometime sooner than the next millennium!
“I’ll have the steak and kidney pudding with ma-shed po-tay-toes and gravy,” he attempted a smile, wondering if she would actually smile at him, for real, but this smile was like all the others, it didn’t quite reach her blue eyes, and he couldn’t help feeling more than a little disappointed.
Her brow furrowed as she walked away from table eight, Katie was sure that she recognised the man she had just served. Although she couldn’t quite remember why, he seemed very familiar to her. As she walked through the swinging double doors to the kitchen, it finally clicked and she turned to stare at his back for a moment, “Viktor Krum,” she murmured quietly, continuing into the kitchen to get the ex-quidditch giant his lunch.