Krum
Agustus Rookwood and his lovely wife, Petunia, were on their honeymoon in Bulgaria, seeking solace away from the hustle and bustle of London. Despite the cold weather, they were enjoying their time together, relishing the tranquility of the Bulgarian countryside. However, as all good things must come to an end, they were not anticipating the unexpected turn their honeymoon would take.
"Oh, hello, little one," Petunia said tenderly as she addressed a very skinny boy who appeared to be about five years old. He was shivering in the cold, barely wearing anything suitable for the 10-degree weather outside. Motioning for the young lad to follow her, she noticed that he was frozen on the brink of death. Quickly, Petunia moved him out of the harsh cold air and into their cozy hotel room.
Augustus was away, shopping in the nearby magical alley, leaving Petunia to care for the boy. She sat him in front of the crackling fire to warm up, preparing a broth to nourish his frail body. With patience and care, she gently coaxed the broth down his throat, warming not just his body but also his insides.
As the boy regained consciousness and began to speak in rapid Bulgarian, Petunia struggled to understand, catching only two words: fear and kidnappers. Just then, Augustus returned, carrying books and food, but his excitement quickly turned to shock when he saw the young boy clinging to his wife for dear life by the fire.
"Augustus," Petunia's voice was gentle but tinged with barely concealed anger. "Call Jacques. I need help."
Without hesitation, Augustus went to the side room to contact Lord Delecour for assistance. Jacques soon arrived with healers and a group of Bulgarian guards, including Armen Krum. They found themselves in a perplexing situation.
"татко!" "Viktor!" The boy, now identified as Viktor Krum, had been missing for three weeks from a town just outside a magical community south of Dalboki. Kidnappers had been targeting children, leaving them to perish, sometimes frozen to death weeks after the abduction, always surrounded by used needles.
Several hours later…
“We need a strategy, one that will enable us to track their location,” the leader, a woman with intense green eyes, declared, her voice steady and commanding.
“But how? We have no idea where they operate or who’s behind this!” one of her companions retorted, frustration edging his tone.
“Then we’ll find out,” she shot back sharply. “We have Polyjuice Potion, Transfiguration—anything that can help us gather intel.”
“My lady, does it have to be human?” one of the occupants of the dimly lit room inquired. All eyes turned toward the blazing green fireplace, where the flames flickered with an almost sentient quality.
“No, it does not. Why do you ask?”
“Because I have a suggestion,” he replied, a wicked grin creeping across his face.
“Let’s hear it,” she prompted, leaning forward with interest.
“Remind me again why we’re braving this cold?” he continued, plucking at his frayed coat, which were ill-suited for the biting chill of the Bulgarian night.
“We are in pursuit of a new child—a freak among freaks,” he answered matter-of-factly.
“Right… good, what have you found?” he pressed, her impatience palpable.
Just then, a man approached the trio, holding a strange bundle that revealed itself to be a creature with pointy ears and an unkempt appearance.
“Ugly, isn’t it?” he remarked dismissively. “It doesn’t matter; let’s move.”
**Stara Zagora, Bulgaria**
“Are we ready?” the woman inquired, her voice cutting through the tension in the air.
“Yes, ma’am. I have 400 goblins ready for deployment,” a stout fellow replied, standing at attention.
“And the captain?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“All mundane police officers are at your command, along with 300 soldiers from the Bulgarian Armed Forces,” the captain affirmed, his tone unwavering.
“Ma’am, as requested, no one was evacuated from the building,” he added, a hint of pride underlining his statement.
“Good. Ragnok, send in your troops from the west and east, coming down the road as planned. Krum, prepare your men to release the Thunderbird Tears when we’re ready to wrap up. The Bulgarian Armed Forces will enter through the north and south; eliminate anyone who moves. Jean, you and I will Apparate directly into the center, but only after Commander Nikolay gives the signal. Clear?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” the forces replied in unison, then moved quickly to their positions.
“Worried?” she asked nonchalantly.
“No. You?” Jean shot back, his jaw tightening slightly.
“Never. And remind me to let your brother know I thank him,” she said casually.
“I will let Jacques know, and Lily…” he hesitated.
“Yeah?” Lily replied, noting the serious look on her friend’s face.
“Thanks.”
At that moment, a crackling voice erupted from a radio attached to Lily’s hip. “We’re moving in.”
Lily nodded. Jean withdrew his wand, and they both Apparated, disappearing from their positions.
They reappeared in the heart of a dark warehouse filled with racks of metallic tables, most of which were laden with lifeless children—hundreds of them, their small bodies cold and still.
“Dispicable,” Jean muttered, his face twisting in disgust. “We must move.”
They quickly took cover as gunshots ricocheted around them, shattering the tense silence. “PROTEGO MAZAMIEMEA!” Lil'y's voice thundered, cutting through the chaos.
“Your tricks won’t work on us! We have countermeasures!” a voice above taunted, filled with arrogance.
“Lily, they’re phasing through the shield; it’s useless!” Jean shouted, panic rising in his chest. He retaliated by casting a green curse at one of the armed men, who collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
“I know that; that’s not the point of the spell!” Lily countered, focus shifting back to the immediate danger.
“ FIRE!!”
With that command, the goblins stormed into the chamber, their wild yells blending with the gunfire as the Bulgarian forces provided cover. Each goblin snatched a child and Apparated them to safety. Within moments, the room was cleared of bodies, and only a handful of men remained standing over them.
“You cannot stop us! We will eliminate you monsters!” one of the remaining kidnapers bellowed defiantly.
“No, we will eliminate you,” Lily replied coldly.
“Bitch,” he spat.
Turning away, she led the remaining magicals out, and with a wave of their wands, they Portkeyed out, leaving behind a chilling silence as the air grew cold—an eerie cold.
“Maxwell, greetings again,” a voice resonated through the dimness, breaking the tension.
The head of the kidnappers sneered at the man who spoke, “Prison for us, Nikolay? We will escape and rid the world of those you protect. You’ll thank us one day.”
“I don’t think I will,” Nikolay replied, unfazed. “You see, one of the children you kidnapped belongs to the Tsar.”
Maxwell’s complexion paled visibly. “What?”
“The Tsar is not pleased,” Nikolay continued, his tone chilling. “He has ordered your group’s execution. Hit squads from both the government and the ‘monsters,’ as you call them, are cleaning up your mess. You’re finished. No one messes with the Tsar or his family.”
“There were no children that…” Maxwell stammered, desperation creeping into his voice.
“KRUM!! You kidnapped a Krum! Victor’s mother is Melkolaf—an illegitimate daughter of royalty—but the mundane Tsar recognizes her as his sister. And the magical Tsar has three heads for three different countries, all leading back to the Duchy of Black, which houses the head of the Tsar’s lineage.”
As Maxwell absorbed this information, a pallor washed over his face, but the reason was different now. He spotted a cloaked figure gliding silently above the ground behind Nikolay.
“Scared now, Maxwell?” he mocked.
Maxwell’s men screamed in terror as unseen forces sucked the life from them, many never comprehending their fate until it was too late. “What are those things?” Maxwell screamed, pointing at the dark, gliding forms edging closer.
Nikolay glanced over his shoulder, frowning before realization washed over him. “You can see them…” he muttered in awe, but it quickly morphed into a cackling laugh.
“How hypocritical.”
“Nikolay, what are they?” Maxwell demanded, dread lacing his words.
“They are the monsters that drain souls and leave you a husk, Maxwell. And one last piece of information for you…” he leaned in closer.
Maxwell turned to look into the eyeless void of the creature gliding toward him, fear thickening the air around him.
“Only the magicals can see them—only the monsters, as you called them, can perceive those things. This means you are a monster yourself.”
The Bulgarian military forces observed in silence as each of the kidnappers was lifted into the air by an invisible force. White light radiated from their bodies before they were released, turning into dust before they even hit the ground. The dementors, unseen by any mundane, waved a scaly hand through the air, scattering the remnants of the husked forms to the wind.
**Forty-eight hours later**
The Bulgarian military orchestrated a cover-up, labeling the facility a weapons factory where children had been forced to labor in the making of weapons.