Marauders - Always - Part One

CXCVI: The First Task is Dragons

Gabriella returned with the bottle of flat water and Madame Maxime thanked her, which made Gabriella illuminate with pride and joy.

Madame Maxime did not linger, she stole from the room, leaving the Delacor sisters alone behind her.
Fleur hugged Gabriella and braided her hair, and although Gabriella asked what was ailing her sister, Fleur insisted she was alright - no need in terrifying the girl yet, and even if, Fleur herself felt unready to speak of her own horror. She could hardy comfort Gabriella's worry if Fleur was unable to speak the threat without bursting into tears.

It was later, curled up in bed, holding her little sister and silently crying after the first nightmare that Fleur realized with horror that little Harry Potter would be facing the dragons as well, and her heart nearly stopped with the panic of it. She couldn't picture Gabriella facing dragons - and he was not much older than that!

Fleur made up her mind to talk to the other Champions first thing the next day. They all deserved to know what they faced.

Especially Harry.

"LIFT YOUR KNEES! YOU ARE WEAK!"

Viktor Krum could barely feel his arms. Or else his arms were all he could feel. He wasn't sure anymore. It had been an extremely long morning of this - his trainer barking at him relentlessly, calling him names, saying he was weak, a loser, pathetic, forcing him to push himself harder and harder than the day before. He was doing pull ups on the mast of the ship, late in the night, the wind coming off the lake freezing his sweat, his breath coming out in puffs that floated dully before him.

"Champion! PAH! What champion are you? You will be beaten by the little girl if you compete as poorly as you are doing now!!!"

"She isn't your average little girl," grunted Viktor, "I will be challenged by her if I could do a hundred pull ups in this condition."

"Oh you think you are funny, funny guy, do you? You can carry on another hundred then!" The trainer barked and Viktor's arms shook with the effort of another pull, wincing for the burning in his muscles.

"Viktor? VIKTOR!" The tall, slim figure of Igor Karkaroff appeared coming up to the deck from the levels below, followed immediately by Oskar Krum. Viktor groaned. Oskar Krum seeing him struggling to perform was the last thing he needed - Oskar would not care if he was on sixty-some-odd repetitions already, only that what he witnessed was no good and his son would be pushed harder still. Viktor's biceps throbbed. Oskar however didn't seem to notice the shoddy struggle Viktor was having of it though, he was too nervous looking as he and Karkaroff came over hurriedly, "We are needing to talk with Viktor alone."

"He has not finished training."

"For tonight, I say he has," Oskar Krum replied. He looked up at Viktor, who hung from the mast, bare chested, a pair of sweat pants and ankle weights on but not much else, and snapped, "Get down from there, Viktor!"

Viktor certainly required no further command, and dropped from the mast immediately, wincing as he hit the ground in a squat, feeling the zing all through his already overworked thighs and calves. He waved bye to the Hulk, who sloped off in a grumpy mood without any argument or lingering. Viktor tore the leather gloves from his hands and reached for a robe he'd tossed over a locker, shrugging it over his shoulders. "What is the matter?" He asked, looking between Oskar and Igor Karkaroff.

Oskar glowered around, then said, "We must go indoors. Too much of these grounds have ears and eyes for Dumbledore!"

Viktor was glad to be out of the cold air and near to a fire as they stepped into his personal room just off the deck. Karkaroff locked and silenced the door, then whorled around to face Viktor, who pulled a blanket around his shoulders and set tea on the hearth immediately. He was more concerned with getting warm than what his father and Karkaroff were worked up about.