Curse of Grieving
V.K. One-shot
Word count: 1k
✧.* Pairing: Viktor Krum x fem! reader
✧.* Content warnings: angst, mentions of death, funeral memorial, and misunderstandings
✧.* Summary: After the tournament, Krum distances himself from you while you have to grieve your now deceased childhood best friend, Cedric Diggory. You thought he had, without words, broken up with you before returning to Durmstrang. Turns out, he was recovering mentally from the Triwizard Tournament.
Cedric, your childhood best friend, had teleported back on the ground with Harry Potter, cold and lifeless. Your ears were full of cheers and music as the pair were seen, thought to be the new champions. However, the music quickly died as everyone had realized Harry was hunched over Cedric’s body, as if shielding him from the outside, and sobbing. Your eyes widened before the music had even stopped, realizing the situation.
It was like your soul had left your body, watching everyone else in third person. The boy you had grown up with, excited and determined before walking into the maze, was now cold on the dirt ground with zero signs of life.
Panic could only fester further when you realized your boyfriend, Viktor Krum, was nowhere to be seen. Your eyes widened, swiftly scanning your eyes around the crowd. Panic finally settled as you ran down the bleachers, glancing at Cedric once more. Now, you could really see the lifelessness in his eyes. You glanced around, finding Professor McGonagal, and ran up to her.
“Dear, calm down. We see the-”
You quickly interjected. “Where’s Viktor?”
Her eyes widened a bit as she realized your circumstances.
“Mr. Krum was found unconscious in the maze. He is alright and being treated in the hospital wing as we speak. Although you may not-”
You quickly ran off before she could finish. All you needed to hear was that Krum was okay and where he was.
Bursting through the corridors, you slowed just enough to turn the corner at the hospital wing and finally see your boyfriend lying in a bed. Madame Pomfrey was standing over him, looking worried. Definitely not the sight you want to see from her. As you approached, Pomfrey looked up and spoke.
“I’ll be with you in a second, dear.”
“I came to see Viktor,” you spoke back, stopping about ten feet away.
She glanced up once more, now seeing the worry etched on your face, and her shoulders deflated.
“You may keep him company, but you may not touch him.”
“Does he have an infection of some sort?” You approached the bed, standing beside his torso.
“It seems Mr. Krum was cursed while in the maze. Dumbledore was furious,” she spoke as she continued treating.
You looked back down at your boyfriend, the worry fading just slightly at the confirmation. The weight of the past half an hour settled into your stomach, manifesting as a deep ache in your chest and a wave of nausea. As breathing picked up, you backed up. You glanced around, Madame Pomfrey not even glancing as she gave you a bag before you inevitably released your anxiety.
Tears brimmed in your eyes after a few moments, looking back up and tossing the bag in the trash before settling on a chair beside Viktor’s bed. The night was real. Cedric had died, and your boyfriend was cursed.
It was noon, right after lunch, as you lay stomach down on your warm but noticeably empty bed. Ever since the last Triwizard task, everything hadn’t felt real, as if you were in some twisted illusion.
After visiting Viktor for a few moments, Dumbledore, along with other high-ranking professors, walked into the infirmary to ask him questions. Unfortunately, that meant you had to leave without being able to say a word to him.
Now, you were alone and grieving. The chaos outside your dorm room in the common room was nothing but an unusual silence. Even the stone walls seemed to grieve the loss of the Hufflepuff seeker. The air felt heavy and suffocating like a thick blanket threatening to swallow you whole.
You weren’t allowed back in the infirmary until specific instructions were given. The Ministry of Magic had Aurors and officers of all kinds around the grounds. Viktor was to be kept away from others while he healed and was questioned temporarily. Madame Pomfrey said she would send him your way when he was healed enough. Students were being questioned left and right, even being pulled out of classes and meals. You felt utterly trapped.
Days passed, and there were still no signs of Viktor.
He should have been healed by now….
Worry plagued your mind. You couldn’t leave your room unless it were for meals, with the anxiety of being watched by the Aurors and officers.
Today was Cedric’s memorial. Classes had been canceled all day for the preparation. You wore your robes paired with your normal Mary Jane shoes. You barely bothered with your hair, just wanting to be in and out of there.
You had seen him at Cedric’s memorial. He stayed in the back, eyes rimmed red and body looking fragile. You were toward the front, sharing a hug with Amos after the speeches. You couldn’t bring yourself to make your own speech, as you knew your voice would give out, and it would be like grieving all over again, except this time in front of the whole school and then some.
Once the memorial concluded, you hesitated before making your way to Viktor. His eyes seemed lost in thought, barely noticing until you were mere feet away. His eyes rested on you, softening slightly as he witnessed your state.
Tears brimmed in your eyes before he opened his arms, pulling you close. His hand rested along your back and behind your head, burying your head in the crook of his neck. He held you close, the smell of crisp pine and leather reaching your nose and settling in your lungs. It felt almost homey.
“You didn’t come by,” you whispered, voice cracking halfway through.
He held you tighter, thumb rubbing your spine gently. “I just got out of the infirmary, darling. Madame Pomfrey wanted to keep an eye just a bit longer.”
You stayed silent, the words sinking in. “What was with the aurors…?”
“Barty Crouch Jr. used an unforgivable curse on me… They were making sure the torture I caused wasn’t from my own will,” he said reluctantly.
You frowned, not realizing how much he had been put through in the tournament.
A stray tear slipped down your rosy cheeks. “You’re never doing a tournament or challenge like that ever again.”
A ghost of a smile laced his lips before he kissed your temple, squeezing you gently. “I won’t worry you like that again, love.”
