Berlin, Germany to London, England.
Once again Marina found herself in the commenter’s box waiting for the Quidditch to be done and dusted. As much as she supported her husband, she truly didn’t care about the sport as long as it gave her exactly what she wanted. As long as it did, she was content to let Viktor continue. As soon as it didn’t then she’d have to set her sights on something else or someone else. She had everything prepared for her husband’s inevitable fall from his broomstick so to speak. A fall from favour would send him crashing down and she’d be out of the door as soon as the divorce papers came through, if not before. Still, despite her feelings, which severely lacked in quantity, she remained with him and would do until that day.
Ilia Dimitrov was one of the ladies that found herself in the commentator’s box. She too was beginning to tire of Quidditch and her husband’s obsession with the sport. She watched from her seat across the oval room as one of the many butlers that had been brought with them to the pitch, stepped out of their line with a silver plate balanced on the tips of his fingers. He leant down beside Marina and held a rolled up piece of parchment for her to take. She plucked it off of the plate and waved him away with a flick of her fingers. Ilia rolled her eyes and sighed, turning her head out to look at the players. No doubt it would be some order from one of the various fashion labels in Europe that needed to be confirmed.
What shocked Ilia was that Marina got up out of her seat and strode out of the room. The other women in the room exchanged looks of confusion and Ilia got up. She walked towards the door Marina had exited through, her path only to be obstructed by the butler. Ilia, a prideful woman, looked up at the elderly man with a scowl. He was unmoving, like the guards outside of Buckingham Palace in London. Perhaps they all used to hold those jobs, they didn’t move. Ilia sighed and tried to press forward again, only to be blocked by an additional butler.
“What is going on?” she demanded, knowing somewhere within her that they weren’t going to answer.
What was going on was that Marina was having a short burst, however small and short lived it was, of maternal instinct. She didn’t dislike her children as much as she did. She hated them, her preference for Cecilia, but she still loved them a little bit. They were going to take over the Krum fortune one day. What disappointed Marina was that it was that over emotional idiot and not his smarter sister with the better temperament. But it was the over-emotional one that needed Marina’s attention and Viktor’s too by all accounts. So, with a flick of her wand, she pulled Viktor off of his broom and brought him down onto the ground. Then with another flick she had him washed, blow-dried and dressed once more.
Viktor pulled at his tie and frown slightly, his chocolate brown eyes seeking out Marina’s darker, unreadable orbs. She thrust the letter into his hands and turned on the spot, Apparating out of his presence. Viktor frowned slightly and turned the scroll over, fingering the St. Mungo’s seal. He unrolled the scroll and his eyes flicked over the cursive handwriting, taking in what the words were saying. Elijah. Elijah wanted them. His son wanted him. Viktor felt a burst of happiness swell within him and he rolled up the parchment once more, a rare smile taking over his usually emotionless features. Then, he laughed. The abandonment that he and Marina had inflicted had made Viktor sure that his son would never ever want him within twenty feet of him. Now! He needed them. Viktor turned on the spot, the grin still on his face, and Apparated to St. Mungo’s.
When Viktor appeared in London, though, the smile fell and his jaw tightened upon the sight of Marina, tapping her foot impatiently. She’d already lit a cigarette and it was dangling expertly from the holder she’d bought in Berlin. Then she had the coat which she’d also bought in Berlin. Oh, and the shoes, trousers and everything else on her person that she’d bought in Berlin. There was no sign of the Bulgarian woman he’d foolishly fallen in love with. The manipulative teenager that had convinced him she loved him so he’d return the sentiment. But she was the mother of his children. Granted she didn’t care about either of them but surely this meant something. Surely she wasn’t just here to harass her son. Viktor knew he wasn’t.
“You’re late.” She stated simply, her accent taking on a tinge of German. She flicked the ash away and pulled her coat tighter around herself. She placed the mouth of the holder between her lips and Viktor watched as she began to puff on it, taking large gulps of nicotine. This was probably why their son had this addiction. He could remember Elijah sitting in the living room with her and her ‘friends’ while they chain-smoked until they ran out. He was breathing it all in and begging Marina to come and play with him. He’d had more than a few slaps that day, all of which poor Stelladora had to tend to. That had really hit home on Viktor that she didn’t care. She was treating their son like a House Elf. But his hands were tied, they’d always been tied.
Viktor sighed, “I apologize, Marina. I was reading.” He pushed the scroll into her hands much in the same way she had done to him earlier and she promptly threw it back at him. The scroll bounced off of his broad chest and landed in the gutter beside the road. Viktor bent down, hearing the bones in his spine click with the movement, and took the scroll off of the drain. He cradled it in his hands and looked up when his wife gave an unladylike snort. Viktor cocked an eyebrow at her and she smirked at him, the venom that was to come writing itself all over her face. Viktor felt ill, he truly did, and it wasn’t just the fact that the street they were standing on smelt like dog piss. That in itself was a pleasure compared to his wife.
Marina laughed. It was a cold, feral laugh and she once again flicked the ash away from the cigarette. She tapped the holder idly and Viktor began to shrink away, not sure whether he wanted to hear what she was going to say. “You can read?” she patronised him. Viktor pursed his lips and opened his mouth to reply but she cut him off, “Forgive me, Viktor but I did not know you were blessed with such a gift. I was under the impression all Krum’s are useless. Your brother certainly is if that is any indication. Stefan is not that bright. Yet he is older than you. Is it not the younger ones that are supposed to be stupid? Oh wait, yes. You are as stupid as your brother. Your idiot son as inherited that trait too. Idiocy...is it common in your family?”
The look on Viktor’s face made passersby compare him to a child that had just seen his new puppy get kicked by his particularly violent father. Instead it was his wife whom everyone in the street had decided to avoid, inflicting the pain upon the figurative puppy who was actually him. Viktor cupped his hands around the parchment and lowered his gaze to his shoes. They were Italian Leather and looked as if they too had been purchased from Berlin. He sighed and looked at Marina carefully, deciding to choose his words as if he were treading glass around her which generally he was. “Marina...I...”
“So it is true!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together. Some of the cigarette ash fell onto her pale, tired hands but she brushed it off, nonplussed by it. It was probably all of that Muggle Botox she had put in there that stopped her from feeling it. “You are a fool. I hope you are happy in your idiocy Viktor.” She shook the cigarette out onto the floor and pocked the holder. “Stub that out won’t you?” She threw over her shoulder as she strode into the hospital. Viktor sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, groaning quietly to himself. He bent down and picked up the cigarette. He straightened up and looked around for one of the Muggle ashtray bin contraptions. He didn’t have to worry though because the cigarette was quickly plucked out of his grip by a teenager and a dirty one at that.
“Cheers mister!” he exclaimed before taking off down the street with his buddies. Viktor smirked and watched the boys until they disappeared. They were so alive. He wondered if Cecilia was like that, as alive and as mischievous as they were. He wondered about Elijah too. This was the boy he hadn’t seen since he’d run away from Durmstrang, the tiny stick of a child who didn’t seem to have any of his father’s genes. Marina had seen him. She’d kicked him into the United Kingdom and to Hogwarts. By her accounts he was wrapped around two women. That seemed like good news as far as Viktor was concerned. It meant the boy had grown up. Well, either that or these French women had a fetish for willowy midgets.
Viktor wrapped his coat around him and popped the buttons into their respective holes. He placed his gloved hands in the pockets of his coat and walked into the hospital, holding the door open for a young woman who was ushering two young children along. Viktor smiled at her and she froze, staring up at him with wide silver eyes. Her hair was the colour of spun gold and the children. Well, they looked nothing like her. They both had ebony hair and the eyes to match. The boy, the elder of the two, had hold of his sister’s hand and was peering curiously up at Viktor, making the Bulgarian feel slightly uncomfortable under their gazes. The little girl was fiddling with a gold locket that was hanging from her neck.
Viktor looked down at it and frowned. His eyes snapped up to meet the silver ones of the young woman’s and she pushed the children behind her. He opened his mouth to try and console her but she stopped him from getting a word in. “I am sorry Monsieur Krum.” She was French. “I was here to see Elijah. We are here to see Elijah.” The little girl peered out from behind the woman’s leg and she smiled at Viktor. He returned the smile hesitantly and watched the girl for a few seconds before the woman spoke again. “This is Fauve.” The elder boy looked at Viktor from the other side of the woman’s legs and gave Viktor a knowing smile. The Bulgarian bit his lip and looked at the woman. “This is Thierry.”
“And you are?” He asked, holding her diamond gaze.
“VIKTOR!” he heard Marina’s high pitched call and he closed his eyes, wincing. He heard the little girl, Fauve, huff and he opened his eyes to see her putting her hands over her ears. Viktor smirked and looked at the woman who was staring at him, her mouth agape. Viktor bit his lip and he heard Marina shout again. This time, Thierry huffed in frustration and he took his sister’s hand in his own.
“You are so much like him. Or...he is like you...regardless...you are so alike.” The woman murmured, her hand straying to her bag for something.
“Who?” Viktor asked, raising his eyebrows. He heard Fauve giggle and he glanced down at the children. She was trying to move her eyebrows the same way he knew he did. Viktor had caught himself in the mirror during one of his arguments with Marina. His eyebrows would sort of move apart before ascending and it was something Fauve was trying to mimic.
He looked at the woman and then down at her hand. He took the picture she was holding out to him and held it up to the light. “Your son,” She said quietly. He looked at the moving Wizarding Photograph and watched as the two children beside the woman bombarded the young man lying languidly on a patchwork picnic blanket. Then the woman before him walked into the picture. She knelt down beside the young man and kissed him on the cheek before taking Fauve into her arms. Thierry remained in...Elijah’s. Elijah. His son.
“My son...” Viktor whispered. He rubbed his thumb across the picture of his son and looked at the woman. She smiled slightly, some of her blonde hair falling into her eyes. He looked down at the children and then at the picture. Were they...?
“Your grandchildren...” the woman answered his thoughts. “Merry Christmas, Monsieur Krum. I prey you will not tell Madam Marina?”
“I cannot tell her?” Viktor asked. The woman shook her head. “Who are you, mademoiselle?”
“Camille.” She answered simply. “I am ... I suppose their guardian. If you were to tell Madam Marina then she would take them away from Elijah. He would never forgive me for it. He...they...they are the only things that truly keep him going. His children are the centre of his universe!”
Viktor glanced over his shoulder and looked around for Marina. She was nowhere to be seen, thank Merlin. He knelt down and gestured for the children to come to him. Fauve bounced over automatically, landing promptly in front of him. Thierry was a little slower, more hesitant, but a nudge from Camille made him go forward. Viktor put his hand in his inside pocket and produced two items. Fauve rose up on her tip toes in an attempt to see into his hand and he smiled, tapping her on the nose. She giggled and put her hand over her nose, dropping back onto her feet. Viktor chuckled and looked at Thierry.
“Can you tell the time, Thierry?” he asked. Thierry looked offended before nodding decisively. “I meant nothing by that. I would just like you to make use of this.” He let something drop out of his hand but caught the chain before it fell to the ground. He held it in front of Thierry and the boy took the item into his hands. Camille knelt down beside him and peered over his shoulder at the solid gold pocket watch encrusted with rubies. There was a golden ‘K’ on the front, glistening in the luminous light of the hospital. Thierry popped the watch open and he and Camille stared at the clock face. Thierry looked at Viktor and the Bulgarian released the chain. “It is meant to be for your father but do not think he will mind.”
Thierry nodded, whispering his thanks. Viktor smiled and looked at Fauve who was waiting patiently. She seemed to like gifts as much as her father did. She was just as impatient waiting for them too. Viktor chuckled, wondering how much influence Elijah truly had on these children. They were carbon copies of him but different aspects of his personality. Viktor took her tiny wrist in his hands and clasped a bracelet around it. He released it and she held her wrist up to the light.
“It is a charm bracelet,” Viktor explained. He fingered a ‘K’ that was dangling from it and looked at Fauve. “My mother...Kerri. His hand moved to the ‘AM’ and showed it to her, the diamond sparkling in the light. “This belonged my grandmother, Anna-Maria. These ones to my great-grandmother, Galina and Milla, my great-great grandmother,” touching the respective ‘G’ and ‘M’. The charm bracelet was full to the brim with initials. It was a wonder they all fit but it did not look crowded as it should have done. “The Krum women each put their first initials on this bracelet. I did not want to give it to Marina. Cecilia will add hers. Elijah’s wife will add hers and you will add yours. It is complicated but it always has one owner. That is you now, Fauve. You will look after it? It is older than all of us. My grandmother used to tell me that it was older than time itself and that it belonged to Krum, a Bulgarian ruler.”
“Really?” Fauve asked, staring at the glistening names, the glistening stories just waiting to be told. “I did not think Papa was...”
“It is unlikely because after a while the old women begin to lose their marbles and think up old wives tales. But we have this ...” He reached forward and took an old, worn piece of gold that had been expertly crafted. “We do not know who it is or what the letter is really. It is Old Bulgarian. But, Historians do not know who Krum’s consort was. What does this tell you, little Fauve?”
“Maybe she was taken by pirates!” Fauve exclaimed, making Viktor chuckle. “I like Pirates! And Indians and Mermaids and...and...and Peter Pan!”
“I do not think she was taken by pirates but you never know, little Fauve. Everyone at some point is drawn to the sea. The Krum men do not give up their vices very easily. You will no doubt find some sea fairing women if you go digging. Would you like to go sailing, little Fauve?”
Fauve nodded eagerly. “I don’t think papa likes boats though. He says that kitties don’t like water. I like water. Our kitty likes water too. He sits in the bath and plays. Twist is his name. Papa says he’s silly though. I think Twist would like it on a boat. I think Papa is scared of sea monsters though. I’m not. I’m brave. Thierry’s brave too. He’d save Papa.”
Viktor laughed heartily at this. Her babbling was darling. She was a pure soul. As she bounced on her feet, her excitement brimming, the trinkets were jingling against each other. A quick look at Thierry told Viktor that he was still mesmerised by the watch, by the detail. “You are very brave, little Fauve; as is your brother. Now, I seem to have been left behind. Do you know where your father is staying?” Fauve frowned in thought and Viktor looked to Camille. “Do you know, Camille?”
“I fear I will have to see my mother to find out. She is at the desk. Red hair...curly hair. My sister inherited that from her. My elder sister and I are blonde like our father.” Camille replied, nodding towards the desk. “I have not spoken to my mother in years. This is rather awkward for me. Do you think you could..?”
“It would be no hindrance to me mademoiselle. We are bound for the same place are we not? Come. You do not have to speak with her.” Viktor said softly. He placed his hand on Camille’s shoulder and squeezed it gently, feeling some sort of responsibility for the girl and for the children she guarded with her life. They were his grandchildren after all. Viktor patted her shoulder and gestured for the children to go ahead in front of them. He held his arm out for Camille and she linked her own with his. He smiled at her and they made their way over towards the desk, Camille moving closer to the Bulgarian to no doubt hide behind him.
“We are looking for Elijah Nathaniel Krum. He was admitted yesterday I believe.” Viktor said easily, patting Camille’s arm to soothe her. She glanced at him and he winked at her, making her forget for a moment who she was with, mistaking Viktor for Elijah. It was uncanny really but Viktor was slightly taller than the 6’2 Elijah. He was also broader chest wise. His hands were bigger too. Elijah’s were more delicate, thinner and he had spindly fingers.
Sadie looked up and scowled at the man and women standing before her. “He’s on the second floor with Director Lupin. You won’t miss them. There’s Aurors and he’s shouting at Lupin’s father. Her boyfriend also decided in his infinite wisdom that it was a good idea to rob Diagon Alley of all of their roses.” Sadie wrinkled her nose. “I would be amused if she didn’t like roses. How are you Camille?”
“Fine, Mother...” Camille murmured. “Thank you. I will...I will come to tea soon.”
Sadie stared at her daughter. “That would be...nice. I, um...take the stairs. The lifts are acting a little funny. We can talk later. Ask Mr. Krum for his autograph won’t you?”
Camille laughed and looked at Viktor. He smirked a little and Camille leaned over the desk to hug her mother. “They are like two peas in a pod, mother. It is uncanny.”
She pulled back and Sadie nodded. “I don’t doubt that. Oh here,” she held out a couple of bags of Jelly Babies. “Give that to his royal highness, the other one is for the kiddies.”
Camille and Sadie hugged each other again and the group made their way towards the stairs. Fauve and Thierry were eager to see their father now and they were bounding along in front of Camille and Viktor, ignoring their cries for them to slow down. Viktor released Camille’s arm and jumped up the first staircase, taking two steps at a time as he attempted to get to the children before they fell down the stairs. Camille laughed and followed. They may have been young, Viktor aging somewhat now, but they didn’t have the energy the kids had and tired out at the top of the stairs at the second level. Thierry and Fauve were stood proudly, displaying their gifts to the world and to their grandfather.
“Are they like this all the time?” Viktor panted. Camille laughed and nodded. “Merlin...how does Elijah keep up?”
“He does not keep up. He has a cigarette and stands there waiting for them to come back.” Camille replied, straightening her clothes which had fallen askew while they were running. “Do they not work you out as well in Berlin, monsieur?”
“Not nearly as well as these two do. Perhaps Elijah would let me borrow them for practices.” Viktor smiled, regaining his composure and pushing himself away from the wall he was leaning against. “Elijah smokes?” He asked after a moment.
“He quit but I am sure he will start soon. Pierre was smoking around him yesterday. Elijah loves Parisian cigarettes. They are his favourites. He also likes South American cigars if he is completely...how do you English say...wasted?” Camille explained. “They are horrible. So strong!”
Viktor smirked. “He never gives up his vices. Does he still paint?”
“Should these not be the questions you should save for him, Monsieur?” Camille asked, walking towards Thierry and Fauve. “After all...you are his father...”
“A poor one,” Viktor muttered. Camille looked at him and smiled sadly. “I will make it up to him.” He vowed to her.
“Why are you telling me?” Camille asked. She put her hand into Viktor’s pocket and took out the picture that he’d pocked before bestowing the gifts upon the children. She handed it to him. “You don’t want to run out of time. Reconcile with him. You let him down but he does not hate you. I think he loves you too much which is why he hates what you did. He hates that you left him. Remember your son. Get to know him again.”
Camille waved her hand over the picture and Viktor looked down at it. The picture changed and Stelladora was there, on the picnic blanket. It was worn and old, her mother’s blanket. They were in the grounds. A toddler came bounding up to her and she opened her arms for him. Viktor held the picture closer and watched as Stelladora turned the toddler around in her arms, holding the little boy close to her. His long dark curls were falling into his eyes but he was alive. He was happy; as happy as he could have ever been. They weren’t there. His parents weren’t there. His real parents were absent. But the ones that raised him, they were there; Stelladora and Micah. Micah was behind the camera. Viktor could tell because Stelladora kept looking over it, love filling her eyes.
“Where did you get this?” Viktor asked, handing the picture to Camille.
“My brother took the picture.” Camille replied. Viktor blinked and looked down, seeing Elijah on the picnic blanket again. “They say that you see whatever you want to see; what you need to see. What do you see?”
“N-nothing.” He mumbled. “I have to go.” Viktor smiled sadly at Camille and walked past her. He patted the children’s heads as he strode past and walked over to where his wife was arguing with an Auror.
Marina drew her wand, only to have it plucked out of her hand by Viktor. He put it in his pocket and looked at the Auror, keeping his eyes purposely off of his enraged wife. “Excuse her, sir. She cannot be helped. Is there a reason you have not let my wife through? Do we need to see someone first?”
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