Chapter 6
The day of Viktor's arrival was marked by a palpable tension that seemed to permeate the air at Hogwarts. Students whispered excitedly, exchanging speculations about the upcoming Triwizard Tournament. Meanwhile, Harry's anticipation was twofold – the event itself and the imminent presence of Viktor.
As the Durmstrang ship glided across the Black Lake, Harry joined the crowd at the edge of the water, waiting eagerly. The boat docked, and students from Durmstrang disembarked, their faces etched with determination. Among them, Viktor Krum stood tall, his expression a mix of seriousness and familiarity.
The moment Viktor's eyes met Harry's, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The invisible thread that connected them, woven through letters and shared experiences, now manifested in person. Harry felt a surge of warmth, a reassurance that everything would be okay with Viktor by his side.
Viktor navigated through the crowd, his eyes never leaving Harry. When they finally stood face to face, the world seemed to fade away for a brief moment. "Harry," Viktor said, a mixture of relief and affection in his voice.
"Viktor," Harry replied, a genuine smile breaking across his face. The weight of their connection, built through challenges and shared vulnerabilities, was a source of strength for both.
As the delegations settled into their respective accommodations, rumors and speculations about the tournament ran rampant.
The magical atmosphere crackled with energy as Dumbledore took the stage to officially welcome the guests and introduce the Triwizard Tournament. The Goblet of Fire, placed at the center of the Great Hall, awaited the names of the champions it would select. Harry's thoughts drifted to the potential dangers that lay ahead, but Viktor's promise to protect him provided a comforting anchor.
The first task of the tournament loomed on the horizon, casting a shadow over Hogwarts. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that this year would be unlike any other, a sentiment echoed by the cautious glances exchanged among the students.
In the days leading up to the Choosing of the Champions, Harry and Viktor found solace in each other's company. The Quidditch pitch became their sanctuary, a place where the worries of the impending tournament faded, if only for a moment. The autumn air was crisp, and the setting sun cast a warm glow over the field as they sat together on the stands.
Viktor's deep voice rumbled as he shared stories of his time at Durmstrang and the challenges he faced. Harry listened intently, feeling a sense of camaraderie that transcended the boundaries of their different worlds. As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, they laughed and exchanged anecdotes, creating a bubble of temporary respite from the weight of the Triwizard Tournament.
The calm before the storm was interrupted by the Choosing of the Champions. The students gathered in the Great Hall, eyes fixed on the Goblet of Fire. The magical flames danced, reflecting the anticipation that filled the room. The tension mounted as the Goblet spat out the names of the champions one by one.
When Viktor's name was announced, a mixture of pride and concern flickered in his eyes. He gave Harry a reassuring nod before making his way to the front, representing Durmstrang. Harry, still processing the moment, watched as the other champions—Fleur Delacour and Cedric Diggory—were selected
As the three champions left the Great Hall to be briefed on the directions for the upcoming tournaments, Dumbledore began his final words to the students before sending them off for the night. However, before he could utter more than a few words, the Goblet of Fire unexpectedly spat out one last piece of parchment. The room hushed, and Harry's heart sank as Dumbledore called his name.
He sat there, frozen, trying to comprehend the weight of what had just happened. The murmurs and whispers around him blurred into a distant hum. Hermione's voice cut through the fog of his thoughts, shaking him back to reality. "Harry, you have to go."
He looked at Hermione, then at Dumbledore, who repeated his name. With a solemn demeanor, Harry downed the last of his pumpkin juice and stood up. If Viktor had witnessed how Harry looked entering that room, he would have thought the boy was walking to his grave. In that moment, Harry felt like he was, indeed walking to his own grave.
He passed through the door to the trophy room where the other champions awaited. Fleur looked at Harry, her blue eyes reflecting genuine confusion, and in her thick accent, she asked if they were being called back in or something. Harry merely looked at her, then at Cedric, and finally, his gaze settled on Viktor. The weight of the situation hung heavily in the air, a shared uncertainty etched on the faces of all the champions.
As Harry’s eyes met Viktor’s, He dropped. Viktor barely had time to catch him before he hit the floor Viktor's voice echoed in the trophy room, filled with a mixture of concern and panic as he called out Harry's name. He gently shook the boy, trying to rouse him from the overwhelming shock that had caused him to faint.
"What 'appened to 'im?" Fleur asked, her eyes scanning Harry's still form.
Cedric, equally puzzled, chimed in, "Is he alright? Did something happen in there?"
Viktor, glancing around anxiously, replied, "I do not know. He just... collapsed."
As they attempted to revive Harry, Dumbledore's voice resonated from the doorway, "What is happening here?"
The headmaster's eyes flickered over the scene, taking in the concerned faces and the unconscious Harry in Viktor's arms. The air in the room thickened with tension as they awaited Dumbledore's guidance on the unexpected turn of events.
"Fleur, Cedric, step back, please," Dumbledore requested, gesturing for them to give Viktor space. Fleur and Cedric complied, their eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and concern as they watched the unfolding scene.
Viktor, still cradling Harry, looked up at Dumbledore. "What is happening to him? Vhat did you do?"
Dumbledore, though visibly troubled, responded, "I assure you, Viktor, this was not planned. It seems there is a mistake."
"Vhat Kind of Mistake?" Viktor asked glaring at the Headmaster.
Amidst the tension, before Dumbledore could utter a single word, the other headmasters barged into the room, accompanied by Professors McGonagall and Snape. Their expressions were a mix of annoyance and disbelief.
"How could there be a fourth! What kind of trickery are you trying to pull here!" one of the headmasters demanded, his voice sharp with accusation. Snape, always quick to cast doubt, sneered, "This is probably the boy's way of gaining even more fame. He is nothing but a troublemaker, probably had an older student sneak his name in."
Viktor, unable to contain his fury, erupted in anger, "How DARE you, you ignorant bastard! Harry wanted nothing to do with this damned tournament! He was looking forward to supporting me in the tasks!"
Viktor's outburst echoed through the trophy room, a mix of anger and concern fueling his words. Dumbledore raised his hand to signal calm, but the tension in the room only intensified.
"He is too young, and he never entered his name!" Viktor continued, his voice seething with frustration. "This is not his doing; someone is playing a dangerous game."
Fleur, Cedric, and the other headmasters exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to proceed. Dumbledore, maintaining his composed demeanor, addressed Viktor, "I understand your frustration, Viktor. We will investigate this matter immediately. For now, let us focus on ensuring Harry's well-being."
As Viktor cradled Harry in his arms, a cold tension settled over the room. Fleur and Cedric exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the rising conflict. Karkaroff, the Durmstrang headmaster, seized the opportunity to voice his disdain.
"This is a disgrace! The Boy Who Lived corrupting the integrity of the Triwizard Tournament. Dumbledore, your sentimentality blinds you," Karkaroff sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.
Viktor's eyes narrowed, and a deep growl escaped him. "You dare insult Harry? He has done nothing to deserve this, and you accuse him of corruption? Look at your own actions, Karkaroff, before casting stones."
Dumbledore intervened once more, his gaze stern. "Enough, gentlemen. This is not the time for accusations. We will investigate the matter thoroughly, and the truth will be revealed. Now, let us prioritize Harry's well-being. Karkaroff, I suggest you withhold your judgments until all the facts are known."
Karkaroff huffed, unwilling to concede. The atmosphere remained tense as they navigated the delicate balance between concern for Harry and the need to address the Tournament's integrity. The investigation loomed, but for now, the immediate focus was on understanding what had befallen the unconscious Harry Potter.
Viktor, his patience thinning, carefully lifted the unconscious Harry into his arms. As he turned to leave the room, Karkaroff, unable to contain his arrogance, reached out to grab Viktor. The Durmstrang Headmaster's hand made contact, but before he could assert control, Viktor reacted with swift magic.
A burst of energy expelled from Viktor's wand, sending Karkaroff staggering backward. The forceful repulsion left the Durmstrang Headmaster reeling, his attempt to interfere thwarted. Viktor, paying no further attention to the fallen Karkaroff, focused on the task at hand – getting Harry the help he needed.
Outside the Trophy Room, Hermione anxiously waited, her eyes widening at the sight of Harry in Viktor's arms. Viktor's expression conveyed urgency as he spoke to her, "Take me to your mediwitch, please."
Hermione nodded, her concern mirrored in her eyes. Leading Viktor through the corridors, she guided him to Madam Pomfrey's domain, where the school's skilled healer would hopefully provide the necessary care for their fallen friend.
Viktor gently placed Harry on the bed as Madam Pomfrey conducted her diagnostic spell. The revelation of a panic attack brought a mix of relief and concern. Viktor exchanged a glance with Hermione, both silently agreeing to stay by Harry's side.
Madam Pomfrey, understanding the unyielding determination of her guests, sighed. "If I were to ask you two to leave, I suspect my request would fall on deaf ears, wouldn't it?" She shook her head with a wry smile. "Very well, take a seat and wait. He may be out for a while, but when he wakes, he'll need familiar faces."
Viktor and Hermione settled into nearby chairs, their eyes never straying far from the still form of Harry on the bed. The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the occasional creaking of the infirmary beds and the distant hushed conversations of the Hogwarts staff attending to their duties. In the quiet, the weight of uncertainty hung in the air, and Viktor couldn't shake the feeling that more challenges lay ahead.