Marauders - Always - Part One

CXXXIX: The Welcoming Feast

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

Viktor Krum stared at the table top, absently turning over the gold spoon from his place setting, his fingers holding the two ends and twisting it over and over. He still had on the heavy wool and fox fur coat and pulled the ear flaps of his hat down lower, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. People all over the dining hall of Hogwarts were looking his way, whispers rose up from the various tables, and there were girls that were scrambling, looking through their robes pockets frantically, chittering about having a quill. 

Meanwhile Viktor was most painfully aware of Aleksander Nicolaev's arm bumping him as Aleksander picked up and turned over the golden goblet that had been part of his place setting as he talked with the other Durmstrang students at the table. Every accidental nudge felt like a jolt disrupting every check and balance in Viktor's psyche. Aleksander hadn't spoken to Viktor since the day Viktor's father had visited when Viktor had pushed him out of his room. In fact, Viktor had talked to very few people since that day, going so far as telling Karkaroff that he was sick and couldn't attend classes.

"Perhaps I should not go to Hogwarts after all," Viktor had tried that very afternoon, when Karkaroff had come banging on his door to find out why he had not been at the assembly in the Courtyard for the pre-departure celebratory bonfire the rest of the school had enjoyed.

They had performed blessings upon the contenders for the title of Durmstrang Champion amongst those who were on the short list for the Triwizard Tournament. It felt pointless to Viktor, all the fake pomp and circumstance that Karkaroff was very carefully building up as he prepared to bring his students to the British school of witchcraft and wizardry. It was blatantly obvious to all of the other boys on the shortlist that it was not their names that were going to be picked once they go to Hogwarts. Karkaroff did not give the private dormitory room to a boy who he planned to fail whatever tests the Ministry for Magic had determined as the way they would choose the champions competing. 

"You'll excuse Viktor for being so quiet, Dumbledore," Karkaroff had said as they'd followed the Hogwarts headmaster into the castle, "Viktor has a slight head cold. Perhaps a place closest to a fire?" Karkaroff had escorted Viktor in personally as Dumbledore smiled and nodded and gone into the Great Hall, where Karkaroff pointed to the table furthest to the right, where long green banners emblazoned with snakes hung down from the ceiling. "Go and have a seat over there, Viktor," he said quietly, and he'd gone with Dumbledore to the front of the Hall, where Madame Maxime, Viktor assumed, was watching with a frown as a tiny little Professor charmed the chair at the staff table to be large enough for the Beauxbatons headmistress to sit. The arms of the chair the school's care taker had offered her had been too narrow for her giant-sized hips to be seated between.

"She's half giant, my Father said so," sneered a pale-haired boy in green robes who was just sliding onto the bench opposite of Viktor at the table. The pale-haired boy shook his head as he watched the short Professor motioning for the Madame to attempt to sit once more. "Mother said she almost went to Beauxbatons when she was in school but my grandmother found out they were talking about hiring old Big Bones up there and they backed out. Giants have rubbish for brains, you know, that's why they can't do anything but tend to the grass at Hogwarts." He smirked and looked 'round at the two boys that flanked him, then grinned across the table at Viktor. "Viktor Krum, isn't that right?" he asked in a demanding tone.

Instead of answering, Viktor simply looked up.

The boy's face was full of self importance and his nose pinched and upturned. He held out his hand to Viktor, "Draco Malfoy," he said, "Of the Malfoys." Draco waited for Viktor to shake his hand and when Viktor didn't, he seamlessly melted the hand-shake into a lame attempt to look like he'd been reaching for the pumpkin juice. "Don't they teach you manners in Durmstrang?" Malfoy asked with an attitude.