Go through the journey of a young boy named Y/N Mavros, who is the product of two worlds that have fated him to fight for the survival of the magical world.
DISCLAIMER: RATED M FOR MATURE
All rights go to J.K Rowling. I obviously don't own any of t...
Well...uh. I don't have much to say other then, read to the ABSOLUTE END and...don't get too upset.
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Viktor, surprisingly, is the first to attack, sending a barrage of spells towards Y/N. He quickly puts up a Protego, which is having slight trouble keeping all the attacks at bay before he has to succumb to sidestepping the rest.
He quickly goes on the offensive and throws various cutting and bludgeoned spells, which are also shielded away by Krum. To everyone, this duel will by far be the best one.
"There!" Krum declares to himself as he fakes casting one spell, throwing Y/N slightly off balance with the cop-out before taking the opportunity.
His ADHD allows him to react just in time to side step most of them but a bludgeon spell barely catches him in the left shoulder as he's coming down from a flip, causing Y/N to wince as if feels it pop, making him drop his wand.
Several of the Bulgarians in the crowd roar in laughter as they watch Y/N tend to his shoulder, his face showing slight agony.
"Damn it...I was too careless."
Malfoy and his goons are apt with laughter, cackling and pointing at Y/N from afar, yelling how quick he already lost the first round.
Hermione can't help but close her eyes, her heart raising from anxiety. She has a feeling this was going to get ugly, but the sight of Y/N's bloodied shoulder isn't something she prefers to watch.
Viktor yields for a moment, satisfied that he managed to land a hit on the glorified Gryffindor. Perhaps this won't be as hard as he thought.
"Come on, Mavros!" Viktor gloats as he watches Y/N grit his teeth, looking down at feet. "I expected to duel a champion, not little boy."
Y/N has never had no real animosity towards Krum before, he had no actual reason to...but the gloating in front of his friends, even though they can't hear them due to the shield, pokes at his ego a bit. How dare he call the son of Hades, the son of Diana Truheart, a little girl
"Alright...fine." He whispers under his breath as he tends to his arm, moving it around a few times before popping it back into place, not showing a sliver of discomfort from the loud pop.
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Dumbledore leans a bit in his chair, interested at the fact that Viktor is poking fun at Y/N, something he didn't do with Cedric before.
