The War of the Unwilling Hearts (Harry Potter fanfic [Viktor Krum])

The Dive

"It's beautiful." Sebastian says, startling me and making me jump.

"Thank you."

"Where did you learn to do this?"

I shrug. "I learn things when I can but I've always been pretty good I guess."

"A prodigy?" He smirks.

"No nothing like that. I make plenty of mistakes. See." I step closer to the wall and point.

"Don't." He lays a hand on my shoulder. "I would like not to see what you do." I furrow my brow but don't say anything else. "You should get ready. Our guests will be here soon." He walks out and I rummage for an outfit, a towel and all of my toiletries, then look for the bathroom. It was across from my room and made me hope that no one went searching for the toilets up here.

I shower and comb a drying potion through my hair before throwing it up in a sleek high-bun with my fringe out.

My purple plaid button front with its short sleeves sticks as the condensation from my hot shower continues to drip down my skin. The shirt gets tucked into my black skinny jeans. I fasten a bow tie at my throat and slip on my socks and white high top converse all-stars. Finally, I brush my teeth and return to my room with my balled up painting clothes under one arm.

"Has she appointed you the official 'Milena Retriever'?" I laugh at Sebastian as I enter my room. He laughs too, shaking his head.

"Just admiring. Our guests are here."

"Sorry I took so long." I frown.

"No. They are early."

"I feel better then." I smile and walk with him down to the dining room.

"Milena this is my friend Nikola Profter, his wife Anastasia and their daughter Laura." Sebastian introduces me to them.

"Very nice to meet you." I smile widely and give a shallow bow.

"Laura goes to Durmstrang." Sebastian points out.

"We're in the same year." Laura says brightly and her sweetness almost gives me a toothache.

"Exciting." I say as happily as I can. Please don't let her be that girl. Please. I beg the universe.

We sit to eat my mom at one end of the dining table, Sebastian at the other, Laura right beside me with her parents across from us. Mom and Sebastian managed a nice spread for dinner.

"What's your favourite subject?" Laura squeaks passing me a bowl of bean salad.

"Erm. Herbology and Transfiguration I think." I'd never thought about which subjects I liked better than others. My goal was to do well no matter what.

"Ugh. I hate Herbology." She groans, shaking her head so that her dark red hair quivers down just past her shoulders. "And Charms; I'm horrible at it."

"Maybe I can help you." I offer.

"I didn't ask." Laura scowls.

"I just meant-" I stammer. She laughs.

"I know. I'm just hopeless." She takes a gulp of pumpkin juice. "Do you like Quidditch?"

"Milena doesn't like much of anything 'frivolous'." Mom says before I can speak. It takes all that I have not to give her the death glare of all death glares.

"Actually," I begin with pursed lips "I have indulged myself in the game of Quidditch." Mom looks at me with a stunned expression. "I couldn't tell an Irish chaser from a Swedish one but I do enjoy the sport."

"You know who Viktor Krum is, right?" Her green eyes twinkle with desperation.

"Heard of him. My hoapili Konu really seemed excited about him though." The whole room seems to send confused beams me but Laura shakes it off.

"He goes to our school. It's his last year." I just shrug and we sit in silence while we eat. It seems that something is bothering Laura.

"Can I ask you something?" She blurts and among the quiet chat of our parents her voice seems loud and accosting, making me nearly choke on my venison.

"What?"

"What does ho- erm... hoe-a-pee-lee mean?"

"Hoapili means - uh - like a best friend, close friend more like it. Konu is my best friend from my school in Hawai'i." I'm hit with sadness. I miss Konu and Kila.

"Oh." She shrugs. "Do you know Swedish?" I look guiltily at my plate. I'd started to learn but I was less agressive than I usually am in studying because of my complete reluctance to even be here.

"Just a little."

"Say something." She claps. I gulp.

"Det är inte... bra." [It's not good.] I end with a questioning inflection and look at Sebastian with pleading eyes.

"That was great. Not like you'll need it at Durmstrang. We speak English there because there's too many native languages. Sometimes the professors will slip in a word of there home tongue in lessons but usually only to insult a student. Trust me my Charms professor who's a Finnish man does it all the time with me. Once called me 'typerä' with a smile so I thanked him only to find out it meant 'stupid'." Laura bows her head and continues to talk. She talked all evening which meant I didn't have to embarrass myself by trying to translate my thoughts into something consumable for the people I was eating a meal with. That was until Sebastian brought up the mural I was painting on my bedroom wall.

"It's so beautiful. Awe inspiring."

"I rather not talk about it." I say shyly, trying to get him to be quiet.

"Oh I want to see it." Laura claps. Alright, I don't like you anymore.

"It's not exactly finished."

"Sweetie, the Profters are leaving anyway. Why don't you just show them what you've done?"

Be a lady. Don't freak out. Be a lady. Don't freak out. I force a smile.

"Alrighty. I'll lead the way." I push myself away from the table and swiftly stand from the chair, taking my first stride before my legs are straight. "Make it known Sebastian that you will not forget my displeasure about this." I whisper as her walks beside me. He chuckles to himself.

"Here you are." I smile sickeningly sweet and hold my bedroom door open for everyone.

"Det är mästerligt." [It's masterful.] Mrs. Profter gasps.

"Not really." I shake my head. "See here where-"

"Milena." Sebastian says quickly make my head swerve into his direction. He only shakes his head but it's enough for me to sink into silence.

The Profters are kind enough not to stay too long though which saves me from some embarrassment as my mother becomes the proudest of them and launches into a speech of how I've always been so creative and blahdyblahdyblah.

Their short stay in my room also means I get to change into my pajamas and slide under my covers, staring at my wall until I'm scrutinizing the inside of my mind from behind my eyelids.