You'd think being a famous quidditch player and all, my life would be all fame and fortune wouldn't you? Well I am here to tell you that to put it frankly, it isn't. First off you have all the crazy fans. And when I say crazy, I mean absolutely insane. Don't get me wrong, I love all the fans, but when you get a bra filled with potatoes as a gift telling you of someone's undying love, it gets to be a bit much.Next you have all the hate mail, howlers, etc. Funny story! Did you know, that if you leave 86 howlers in one place, without opening them, then your room is 99.9% likely to explode? Now you know!
Now enough of the fans. I want to tell you about my life. Normal people would tell you stuff like, "my hair is brown, my eyes are green." or "I like American football and cricket." But the first thing you should know is that I'm not what most people would consider a normal person.
The soul word that describes me is ladylike. I love dresses and makeup and especially curling my hair. That's the bomb! Kidding. One of the best words to describe me is quidditch. I love it, I live for it, I would marry it if I could. Not that I don't like people, in fact I am a very sociable person. Is that even a word? Anyway! That being said, I only talk to boys. I mean, not that I get a chance to talk to many girls being the only girl at an all boys school. That's right! I go to Durmstrang. Home of the gross, oversized, hormone crazed, Bulgarian hunks. But I do have my Vicky to protect me from all the "big, bad, scary boys." Or at least that's what he says. I say get past Vicky and I'll give it a shot!
Currently I am the top chaser for the Bulgarian quidditch team. That's actually where I met my best friends. Not really ever having had a real conversation with a sensible girl, (definition: one that wasn't after Vicky) I clicked with the team quite well. Even for being the only girl and having a coach that hates me.
I am going to let you in on a little known fact. I have never actually known my real family. I know my first name is Cecilia, but call me that and I may have to break your nose. Vicky's family adopted me when I was just 1 year old. So now my name (as far as I know) is Cecilia Krum.
Now that all that jazz is over, let's start off the story with a place we all know. The World Cup.
* * * *
(Bulgarian is in bold)
"Cece! We gotta go!" Vicky shouts from the back door.
"Don't get your nickers in a twist! I'm coming!" I yell back. It's the morning of the big game and I can't find my glove. That's my life for ya! The biggest game of my life and I can't find a stupid glove.
"Bye ma!" I yell as I walk out the door.
"Don't break your neck!" She calls from her study. Our pap died from a (not so) rare disease called idiotic death eater-vitis, so she takes care of all the home utilities and such while we pay the bills. Funny how that works, isn't it?
"Finally! I was beginning to think you got lost!" Vic said as I climbed on my brand new fire bolt, "We are running late so here's the melt down. We have seats in the top box till they call the team. We are all going to be scattered across the stadium to have a bigger and better first impression. Got it?"
"Good morning to you too," I grumbled.
"Don't be a spoil sport. Be happy! It's the big game!" Vic nudged me.
When we arrived at the stadium I started to understand why we were supposed to come early. There were fans EVERYWHERE. I don't think I've ever been groped so many times in my life.
"We have to walk up where?!" I shout.
"We wouldn't have had to if someone would have gotten up just a little bit earlier!" He shouts back.
I grumbled and started up the stairs to the top box. I was exhausted when we got to the top. Whoever thought that putting stairs on a magically built stadium was a good idea was completely mental.
"Where are our seats again?" I asked Vic.
"Ask the Crouch guy. That's what coach said." He grunted. I walked up to an official looking guy with platinum blonde hair and cleared my throat.
"Excuse me sir, but I'm looking for a Mr. Crouch?" The man turned around and scrunched up his nose.
"And who might you be?" He said with disgust. I look at Vic and he slightly shook his head meaning that I should not tell him the truth.
"I'm his assistant and needed to find him. Have you seen him?" I said with a completely fake innocent voice.
"He should be on the other side of the row. Do you have a name, assistant?"
"Thank you sir. May I ask what your name is first?" His eyebrows rose slightly.
"You mean you don't know who I am?" He replied with a voice full of disbelief.
"Am I supposed to, sir?" During this whole affair Vic was off on the side laughing silently at my inability to close a conversation. I scrunched my nose slightly at him and made a face, nearly forgetting about the awfully rude man I was 'conversing' with.
"Malloy. Lucious Malfoy," he said with pride, as though his name was known throughout the wizarding world.
"Come along Draco. I don't want you talking to this ugly creature." I was slightly taken aback. I don't think I'm the prettiest girl in the world, but I don't think I'm necessary bad looking. I turned and looked to the other side of the row and sure enough stood another official looking man with a quidditch shirt on. He was talking to the Bulgarian prime minister, trying to communicate.
"Ah! He looks like the right one," I announced.
"Excuse me, are you Mr. Crouch?" I asked.
"Yes! Yes! And who are you, might I ask?" He cheerfully replied without giving me his full attention. I cleared my throat choking down a laugh as he finally turned around to look at me with a face full of annoyance.
"Good golly! I apologize sincerely Ms. and Mr. Krum! Your seats are right here, in fact. I assume that what you came for?" He spoke in a hurry.
"Quite. Thank you, sir." I replied already tired of all the formal talk. Vic and I sat down trying to conceal our faces and we were succeeding until a family of redheads and two brunettes came along.
"Blimey! It's Victor Krum!" I heard a boy redhead that I assumed was about my age say.
"Ron! Be quiet. He might hear you!" I heard the brunette slap who I assume to be Ron. I was quietly sniggering behind my hair until another deeper voice whisper quite loudly, "Cece is here too! And good gosh! Sure she's pretty on my posters, but look at her in real life!" I turned to the family and introduced myself, seeing as Vic wasn't going to.
" 'ello! I'm Cece!" I stuck my hand out to another red head that seemed to have a twin.
"Fred," he said kissing my hand. I felt the other hand get picked up and looked over.
"I'm George," he kissed my other hand as I smiled sweetly.
"Nice to meet you. And you?" I asked nodding to the brunette boy.
"Harry. Harry Potter," he mumbled. I nodded to him. I looked expectantly at who I assume to be Ron, but his face was slack and he was just staring at me. I waved my hand across his face a few time and then shrugged. Another hand was promptly shoved in my face.
"Hermione. Basically the babysitter of all these doofus'." I laughed at that and turned to the group.
"So what school do you guys go to?" I asked.
"Why are you talking to us?" Harry blurted out. I stared at him incredulously.
"What else am I supposed to do? Sit here awkwardly and stare at the stupid ads the whole time? No thank you!" I replied chuckling.
"Oh," was all he replied.
"Well, seeing as you fellows aren't going to answer this fine lady's question, I will. We all go to Hogwarts, my dear," George replied.
"Really? I'm transferring there this year!" I exclaimed.
"What?" Ron said in a little voice.
"I'm transferring to Hogwarts?" I said a little confused. After a moment of slightly awkward silence, I heard a commotion behind me. I looked over at the Bulgarian minister and noticed that he was watching Mr. Crouch trying to communicate by using odd body language.
"Excuse me minister but why aren't you speaking English?" I asked.
"I needed a good laugh," he replied to me.
"WHAT? You've could understand me this whole time?!" Mr. Crouch exclaimed.
"It was very amusing," he replied smugly. Mr. Crouch's watch beeped and he took his wand out.
"Ready Krums'?" He said, still slightly disgruntled.
I nodded in his direction as the advertisements disappeared and was replaced by the scoreboard. Mr. Crouch put his wand to his neck and cleared his throat, preparing himself for the strain he was sure to feel afterward.
"Welcome to the World Cup!" He yelled. Screams flooded the arena.
"Presenting, the Irish team!" As he read the players names they all came zooming into the field followed by leprechauns, which personally I think is a much better mascot than our veelas. Funny how that works, huh?
"And now for the Bulgarians," he read off our team as the flee from their seats. When he got to Vic's, the crowd screamed so loud, I thought my eardrums would split. He took off in a woosh of air.
"And last but definitely not least, Cece Krum!" At that point I know my eardrums split as I took off. The veelas did their dance and stood off to the side line.
It was finally time to play.