Vestiges of Normalcy

Chapter 1

Viktor Krum had just been preparing for a well-deserved night's sleep, when the first screams echoed in the distance. He and his teammates tumbled out of bed as they rushed out of the tent to see what was going on.

The screams grew louder, and coloured lights shot across the sky like rockets. Viktor and his teammates watched as people ran for their lives, some occasionally falling from accidents, or getting hit by a spell. Cloaked figures wearing masks ran about, gleefully adding fuel to the chaotic fire.

Suddenly, a red-coloured light flashed past Viktor, followed by a cry of pain. One of his teammates, Nikolai, had fallen to the ground, grasping his right arm in agony – a bone-breaking hex. Death Eaters were attacking the athletes' campsite.

Viktor was forced to ignore Nikolai's screams as a volley of spells began to unfurl. He cast spell after spell, not caring which were borderline-illegal or not. Killing Curses and other lethal spells were now being thrown, and to the seeker's outright horror and outrage, he'd seen at least one player, Bulgarian and Irish, getting hit by these deadly curses and having the life snuffed out of them.

Viktor didn't know how long he fought, but a combination of tired muscles from a hard-played Quidditch match that had no time to recover, plus literally fighting for one's life, meant exhaustion was upon him relatively quickly. He now had three of those damned bastards throwing spells at him. In his current state, Viktor was on the defensive, conjuring shields to protect himself, or rolling out of the way of spells.

One thought flashed across his mind. He was going to die tonight. He would never play Quidditch again, finish his education, or even see his family again. But... he did manage to catch the snitch for his country, so he could, at least, take comfort in that as he laid his last breath, as he ducked to avoid what turned out to be a blood-boiling curse...

"Krum! Stay down!"

A loud voice suddenly put the brakes on his hopeless thoughts. Viktor couldn't help but stay down (not that he didn't want to, he was exhausted after all) as the same voice shouted an incantation, three times.

"Diffindo!"

There were green flashes, splattering sounds, and cries of pain. Viktor looked up. He saw the same three Death Eaters, the ones who nearly did him, sprawled on the ground. One was missing his wand hand and the source of the cries, another had been scalped and sprawled on the ground, twitching; and the third unmoving, lifeless on the grass in a pool of blood. If it wasn't for the exhaustion, the seeker was sure he would have vomited.

Footsteps rushed towards him. A pair of jeans-clad legs and trainers came into his field of vision.

"Hang on, we're getting out of here."

Viktor said nothing as he allowed himself to be lifted off from the ground, his arm draped over a pair of shoulders. He didn't notice that the remaining Death Eaters who had attacked the players' camp had fled, leaving the dead and wounded behind. His teammates never did cross his mind either, survival instincts clouding all superficial (in comparison) emotions.

He only felt his legs barely walking, as he and his rescuer trekked through the burning campsites, screams and the occasional spell punctuating the night. Viktor vaguely registered that they had entered the woods surrounding the campsites. The blurry, dimly-lit outlines of trees, branches and roots filed past his vision as they travelled deeper, away from the screams and chaos.

Viktor felt them come to a stop. His arm was lifted from his rescuer's shoulders, and he was held steady. He was gently lowered against the base of a tree, as the stranger spoke again.