A Saga of Memory (Viktor Krum Fanfiction)

Chapter 14

       The Death Eaters could not believe their eyes. They were completely appalled out of their minds of what Voldemort was taken down to. The cool, glittery fog had already vaporized and ascended to the sky, leaving a soft, clear atmosphere for this sight.

        Viktor casually approached Voldemort’s stupefied body.”Expelliarmus.”

The phoenix feather wand flew out of his skeletal, scaly hand and into Viktor’s warm, nimble one. It was a likeable wand, he noticed. Ollivander’s creation.

How could Voldemort be taken down and stunned by, not Harry Potter, but Viktor Krum, an inexperienced graduate of Durmstrang Academy of Dark Magic, Seeker on the Bulgarian Quidditch Team? How could Voldemort in that moment be so rather easily defeated like that?

The answer was honest and simple. Love is more than his weakness; it’s what weakens him, his kryptonite. Hermione’s heart and soul fled somewhere after the Segregatus, somewhere near that it trusted it could be safe. It hid somewhere in Viktor’s magical essence, though it is not clear exactly where. When Viktor was in trouble, she had came into his wand and set her power into the spell, by far serving as the ultimate catalyst to its strength. As they say, two stars are brighter than one.

Viktor stood there, menacingly and fearlessly. He kissed the fingers of his right hand and raised them up high, to the air, as regard to Hermione Granger.

 The Death Eaters were still in dire shock, unable to move, as if the Stupefy had shot them as well.

“Get him!” one Death Eater shouted, breaking the silence. “Don’t just stand around, GET HIM! We are not afraid of this OAF!”

          Afraid? Viktor thought coolly. Wow, I just degraded and terrorized the Servants.

As soon as “oaf” was said (or shall I say, reiterated), the Death Eaters drew out from behind the remote trees and marched towards him, with an Avada Kedavra on the tip of their tongues. Viktor instinctively drew out his wand and shouted “STUPEFY!” as quickly as a flash of lightening.

“Wait! Stop!” one of them said rapidly. “Instead of killing him…Let’s have some more fun. Let’s call up the dementors and see if he could use a Kiss.” But before he began this sentence Viktor had already stunned another Death Eater. He and the others did not process this until after he finished saying the word “Kiss.” They glanced in fury at him then and decided to just go ahead and kill him before he stuns anyone else.

Fighting and dueling between Viktor and the Death Eaters continued on into the hours of daylight. Viktor frequently and skillfully ran in and out of the patches of sunlight, between the nimble tree trunks on his Firebolt, dodging each lethal green flash from a wand and rebounding a stun on the attacker. He was blindingly and ultimately fast and agile on his Firebolt, no match for the heavy-armed, unathletic men in black capes. Viktor sped off for hundreds and hundreds of yards around the forest, in the vast blue skies and would dive down spontaneously and unexpectedly as the Death Eaters, attempting to bombard him with green flashes, would watch their powers lose off into the clouds. He then shot several of them from behind, and then shortly after dodged another Kedavra and shot the attempter in the eye. He bolted off into the forest, having the remaining Death Eaters chase after him, as he weaved through the trunks, flawlessly and fluidly, and disappearing from their sight.

He saw one Stunned man with long, white blonde hair, sprawled behind a rock a long distance from the others. Lucius Malfoy. His walking stick, a handed down family antique near a millenia old, was laying out next to him, with the wand it concealed in his rigid fingers. “Expelliarmus!” Malfoy’s wand shot out of his right hand and into Viktor’s left. Viktor trudged on back, on edge and in a phase of Olympic efficiency, with one wand in each hand.

 He shot in between the two that had gone in different directions, screaming “Stupefy!” for the 15th time. They fell backwards, solid as statues, and thudded hard against the grass. 16 down, on his 15th try. Not bad.

The remaining four were scattered about, but Viktor saw another flash not far away from him. He darted at astronomical speed around the shadows once more, the Avada Kedavra hitting the tree he was before. The enormous, towering tree cracked and came falling down, the attempting Death Eater was caught under a penetrating branch, reaching for his wand that had slipped out of his hand. Viktor stunned him. 3 to go.

He sensed two of them approaching him from behind, two directions. He could sense the two words they each were about to say. He spun around and faced them by the time they pronounced the v in Avada. He lept up from his broom by the time they finished saying the curse. One green bolt of light was heading towards the lower right of the space he took up while sitting there on the broom, so he stood on his left hand on the bar and slid his weight, with astounding godlike fluidity, into the air, letting the lethal green bolt shoot right below his legs.

The other bolt of green light was coming at a left angle to where below his chest would be if he were ordinarily sitting on the Firebolt. He saw that this Avada Kedavra would get the left arm he bore his weight on if he remained in the previous position he used to dodge the first, so he fell and slid under the Firebolt, holding his body up horizontally under the handle, briefly, as he watched the green light shoot right above his face. Once it had passed, he flipped back up onto the broom and straddled it, in a split fraction of a second.

As soon as he was back on it safely, he held up both wands at their bodies.

“STUPEFY!”

They both were shot with the Stun right before they were about to process that he had just dodged their curses. They flew far back into the ground, and Viktor then came off his Firebolt. One more, behind the tree over there. Oh and how close he is! Is he fast enough?

“STUPEFY!

He wasn’t. Finally, when Viktor had stunned the last Death Eater, the sky was darkening into overcast. The air was extraordinarily cool. He then made a less-than-heroic decision, out here in the hidden forest of the Dark Lord. He laid down on a patch of deep green British grass and fell asleep.