Title: His Father’s Problem
Author: Saydria Wolfe
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: Rule 63(Harry Potter), Sentinels and Guides are Known, Fix-it
Relationships: Harry Potter/Viktor Krum
Content Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Canon-level Violence, Dark Themes, Character Bashing
Author’s Notes: Not entirely sure why I am so obsessed with this pairing right now >.> probably because boy!Harry belongs with Neville and the idea of starting a romantic relationship as young as they meet is kinda gross. IDK.
Word Count: 835
Summary: Viktor never expected to find his sentinel at the Triwizard Tournament…then he did.
“Guide,” she growled. Her face was filled with awe as she looked at him. Her hand shook as she reached for him.
Viktor stopped and took stock of himself. He had wanted a sentinel more than anything. More than fame. More than money. He had since he came online…but he had never expected to match with a female sentinel. He found that having a female sentinel was a thrilling bonus to generally having a sentinel.
He also hadn’t expected to find his sentinel at Hogwarts—but there she was. Bright green eyes, beautiful face with a scar across it, not marring but enhancing her allure. She was a survivor, his sentinel.
Hari Potter. His sentinel was Hari fucking Potter.
He threw away his dreams of a quiet life after his quidditch career as he reached out to her. They didn’t matter in the least compared to her.
“Viktor!” High Master Karkaroff objected.
There was a flurry of moment and Viktor was between Hari and the wall. She was keeping Karkaroff at bay with a sword. It was a bright shining silver with a ruby encrusted hilt.
“You will not touch him,” she growled, and Viktor was relieved.
He hated the empathic feedback he got from Karkaroff and Victor couldn’t block the man’s lust and greed when he touched him.
“Ms. Potter!” A gnarled man with wild, mismatched eyes reached for his sentinel. With an eye like that, he could only be Alastor “Mad Eye” Moody—but why would an experienced auror attempt to touch an unbonded sentinel that had found her guide? He should know better.
There was a scream. A hand and half a forearm was suddenly laying at his feet while the man it belonged to was fell to his knees, holding his stump and screaming his head off.
Moody’s aura started crackling as though it was being eaten by acid and his skin fluctuated with it. His mad eye popped out of the artificial socket and rolled across the floor as a quarter of his head shifted from Moody’s appearance to that of a much younger man that Viktor did not recognize.
“Polyjuice,” Hari identified in the same moment Viktor did himself.
“We must leave,” he told his sentinel, and she nodded her agreement.
If someone was polyjuicing themselves to stand in for one professor, there was no telling who the rest of them were. Verifying that any of them were actually the person they appeared to be was not something they had the power or time to do. That left them with a much too unpredictable situation for them to complete their bonding in.
“What is the meaning of this?” another adult demanded, pushing his way through the gathered crowd. “Ms. Potter! Fifty points from—”
Viktor got the impression of long black robes, pale skin, and black hair before a spell flew between him and his sentinel, and the man went flying. Hari whirled on this new threat and abruptly relaxed as the bushy haired girl—one wearing red and gold accents that matched Hari’s—put away her wand.
“Hermione,” Hari greeted.
“Alpha Sentinel Potter,” Hermione inclined her head in a show of submission to the Alpha.
Viktor swallowed. His bonded-to-be was an alpha. An incredibly rare female alpha.
“Fetch your guide, Sentinel Granger,” Hari ordered. “We are leaving.”
Hermione held out her hand and a beautiful blonde in Beauxbatons blue took it. A second, smaller blonde scampered out of the crowd to crash into Granger’s guide’s side.
A younger sister, Viktor guessed based on their empathic resonance.
“I have an emergency portkey,” Viktor told the women surrounding him. “It will take us to my family’s keep in Bulgaria. It is quite secure.”
“Bulgaria is a much better choice than Britain,” Granger’s guide said scathingly.
“Yes,” Granger agreed dryly. “There we have human rights in practice rather than merely in print.”
Hari nodded and gestured. Hermione led them toward the doors. Viktor and his fellow guide placed the child between them with wands drawn while Hari placed herself in the most dangerous position, the rear guard.
“I am Viktor Krum,” he introduced himself to his fellow guide in the hope she would return the favor.
She glanced at him but immediately returned her eyes to scanning for threats. “Fleur Delacour,” she said. “And my younger sister, Gabrielle.”
“It is a pleasure,” he said courteously.
Gabrielle was the only one to react, giving him a beaming smile and offering him her hand.
He took it as they exited the main gate. They walked halfway to the town he could see in the distance before Hari brought them to a stop.
Hermione took Fleur and Hari’s hands. Hari completed the circle by taking his and Hermione’s. Viktor activated the portkey and they swirled away before the people he could hear shouting for them in the distance could catch up with them.
There was every chance this would start an international brouhaha of epic proportions—but that would be his father’s problem.