Chapter 21

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Viktor sighed as he slid into bed next to Lilly. She was already fast asleep, having a long happy day with the Twins. He started up at the celling, thinking of how his child would be. Fenrir, now being their permeant pet, slept facing the door. He watched Lilly's chest rise and fall as she breathed and then his eyes traveled to her growing belly.

"Krum! Krum!" Someone was banging on his door. Fenrir snarled at the intrusion of sleep as Viktor got his feet quickly before they woke his soon to be wife. He ripped the door open to see a soaked first year. He grabbed the kid by his uniform and shoved him out from the door way, closing the door.

"What are you doing!? It's past hours." He growled in his home tongue. The first year held up a newspaper, not being able to speak from fear.

The front page said in huge bold letters: VIKTOR KRUM, FATHER TO BE. His blood ran cold. He knew now things would change. He crumbled the paper up and told the first year to leave. Just as he turned around he came chest to face with a sleepy looking Lilly.

"What's wrong, love?" She yawned.

"Nothing. Please go back to bed." Viktor asked.


      Viktor scowled as he entered the Grand Hall for breakfast the next day. He watched as every single pair of eyes were on him, whispering about the news. His beloved insisted that he go without her so she could catch up with the Twins. Fred and George assured him that Raziel would not go anywhere near her.

"Well, well. The Father to be shows his face." Nathen Romanoff's British accent made his teeth grind.

"Vhat is it to you?" Viktor spat.

Nathen chuckled, "Oh nothing but I did warn you."

"Oi! Bugger off will ya!?" Viktor turned to see Fred and George. The Red heads glared at Nathen. "Krum here is family."  Fred nodded.

"That means: you mess with him; you mess with us." George finished. Nathen glared at the twins before returning to his seat.

"Vhat are you two doing here?" Viktor asked.

"The Boss sent us to get blood sausage." Fred spoke up.

"She hates blood sausage." Viktor pointed out, lifting a glass of ale to his lips.

"The babies want it." With those words, ale was spat everywhere.

"BABIES!?" Viktor sputtered.

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