Title: Only A Day

Author: WhyIsARavenLikeAWritingDesk

Universe: Harry Potter

Rating: K+ - T

Characters: Viktor/OC

Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter or Viktor Krum or anything to do with that world. I also do not own any of the Edgar Allen Poe poetry seen here, but some poetry will be original.

Summary: Nobody knows that Viktor Krum, the greatest Seeker in the world, the pride of Durmstrang School, is actually a closet poet. The only person aware of this, his pen pal of five years, doesn't actually know who he is. She only knows him as Viktor.

Dear Viktor,

It's been a while since we've written. I know it's just as much my fault, and I was wondering how you were doing. How is your family? Has your schoolwork kept you from seeing them recently? I hope you're doing well. I understand if you are busy, or no longer wish to speak to me for some reason. Things have been hectic here with the preparations for the coming auditions. This year we are to do a Muggle opera titled The Phantom of the Opera. It is a story told by a young woman in love with two men, a pronounced member of society and a man who hides himself in the bowels of the opera house to hide his appearance. I've seen the Muggle production many times and hope our rendition will be as splendid.

Wishing You Are Well,

Charlotte Adele Wright

Charlotte Adele Wright signed the short letter with her signature flourish and folded the parchment to fit in an envelope half the size of the palm of her hand. She sealed the envelope with a charm and held it out to her large brown barn owl. The owl, Deek, took the letter and dove out the window, as if anxious to fly.

Charlotte watched her owl disappear into the twilight and disappoint washed over her; she never should have let her correspondence fall off with Viktor. Sometimes he was the only one to really understand what she was trying to say. The two had exchanged hundreds of letters, some no more than a few sentences long, over the last five years. Viktor knew things about Charlotte that no one else did and in turn Charlotte knew things about him as well.

Over the past few weeks, there had been silence between them. Charlotte couldn't begin to tell anyone why, but Viktor's letters kept coming further and further apart, until they stopped coming at all. The teen only hoped that this letter would break the dam holding them back.

Charlotte,

In no way do I wish to stop writing with you. Sometimes you are the only thing that keeps me sane at times. Things at school are horrible. I believe our headmaster is going insane, but with no proof we have no choice but to follow along. My family is very well, thank you, but as feared I have not been able to see them in a time. In light of things going on, I am not doing very well. You will do very well in the auditions, no doubt. I wish you the best of luck. The opera you have mentioned sounds like something you will enjoy. If you find the nerves too much, step back and think of why you continue to perform despite your fear.

Viktor

P.S. I would very much like to have another piece you have written, if you do not mind? Something for me to think on in the upcoming days.

Viktor Krum, though that wasn't how his Charlotte knew him, rolled the letter he had just finished and slid the parchment into a dragon hide case, as to protect it from the weather. The Bulgarian tied the case to the slim leg of his hawk and set the creature on his window sill to take flight, hoping for a quick and lengthy reply.

Charlotte was surprised out of her concentration by the loud pecking at her window. She rushed from her desk to the glass and smiled when she recognized Viktor's hawk, Orion. She let the hunter in and carried him to the owl roost by her desk, currently unoccupied as Deek was out hunting. She cooed when Orion nibbled on her finger and retrieved the letter case from his leg. Momentarily her throat tightened with the realization that, if her fears came true, this would be her last letter from Viktor. Without giving it further thought, Charlotte ripped the container open and consumed the lengthy letter. Her heart eased, the more words she read, and, by the time she had finished the letter, Charlotte was crying tears of relief. She quickly began her reply.

Viktor,

You have no idea how relieved I am to know that you will continue to write with me. If anything, you are the one true friend I have. All the girls I know, and even the boys, see each other as nothing but competition. I'm tired of such a cut throat world. I hope your troubles ease, though somehow I suspect that will not be the case. On top of the approaching auditions, my school, Hogwarts, has something in the works to surprise us. And still, tension continues to rise in London concerning the Ministry and the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. Threats have been issued, though so far they seem to be idle. Despite not being too interested in the sport, I would like to attend. You've mentioned Quidditch many times; would you mind explaining it to me a bit? Also if I enclose a new piece I have written, then I expect one back.

Charlotte Adele Wright

Alone

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were- I have not seen
As others saw- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved- I loved alone.
Then - in my childhood - in the dawn
Of a most stormy life - was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold -
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by -
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

Charlotte,

You are curious about Quidditch? This is a very big change. Mostly I cannot get you to speak about anything but the arts. It is a refreshing change, to be sure, to be able to talk of such things with you. No one here, around me, would understand. Really the only way I can answer all your questions at once is to recommend a book. Quidditch Through the Ages is a very informative book for a beginner. It explains not only the history of the game but also the rules and the current on goings of it. If you have any more questions I would be happy to answer them. It is lonely here. When I am not at school, I have practice, only I am younger than the rest. I think by at least seven years. It is a bit difficult, still being in school and then grouped in with an older crowd. Concerning the piece you sent me, you are not alone in the feeling that you were an outsider. I attend a school where most everyone is wealthy, but that is not my background. It was often that my own mind was elsewhere. As for your request for something in return, I think I will have to settle for a ticket to the Quidditch World Cup. I have been so busy, so tired these days, that I have not been able to but a single thought to parchment. I hope this will satisfy you, for now, and I hope to see you at the Cup. Do not worry about finding me, I will find you. I hope you take me at my offer and enjoy the match.

Viktor

Charlotte found the World Cup ticket stuffed into the letter case, along with a listing of portkeys all around England that would take her to the pitch. She couldn't wait. Of course, finally meeting Viktor after five years of exchanging letters would be a bonus.

Viktor,

It would be my pleasure to attend the Quidditch World Cup with you! It will be wonderful to see a professional game and have your opinions on the match as well. I look forward to seeing you soon.

Charlotte

Viktor had not been so happy in a long time.

Viktor's mother knew about the young woman her son exchanged letters with. How could she not? At times her son would seem to have the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders and then, after only receiving a letter, his spirit would be uplifted, only for it to slowly be weighed down again and the process start all over. After this had happened the first few times, the mother, a fierce woman alone, sat Viktor down and wheedled an explanation out of him. But this time, this time it seemed that the letter from the young woman brought only sour news.

From the time that the letter arrived in his hands, Viktor knew that this piece off correspondence wouldn't bring the best of news. Water droplets that could be mistaken for nothing other than tear stains were prominent on the dark parchment. The Seeker felt his heart sink as he tore the envelope open and devoured the words written in a shaky hand.

Dear Viktor,

I regret to inform you that I will not be able to attend the Quidditch World Cup with you, as much as I wish to. My grandfather has passed away, and, as you know he was my only living relative and I am still a few months shy of being of age, I will have to remain a ward of the Ministry of Magic until I can inherit his accounts. I have a family friend working out the details for me, as the Ministry has pressed that I can make no decisions at all. My friend has agreed to help me set up a payment for our house, so I will at least keep that. Other than the basic necessities, such as school books and owl food, I will be unable to access any funds at all. I hope you will forgive my absence.

Charlotte Adele Wright

Charlotte,

Do not trouble yourself with my being. Deal with what you must. Though the Cup will not be as enjoyable without your presence, there is no need to forgive any absence. You are needed in London, to watch over your grandfather. I stress that anything you need will be given if you only ask, and please do not hesitate from doing so. I am happy to give anything I can. Though I did not know your grandfather, if he had any hand in raising yourself, then he was truly a remarkable man. You once said it was he who turned your passions to the arts, so in the only advice I can give truly, turn your passions back to him and remember him for the great man he was. My mother, Lillya, has mourned a friend herself and I find myself following her own advice. Please know that my heart lies with you until you know longer need it. And even if you don't.

Viktor

Fairy Land

Sit down beside me, Isabel,

Here, dearest, where the moonbeam fell

Just now so fairy-like and well.

Now thou art dress'd for paradise!

I am star-stricken with thine eyes!

My soul is lolling on thy sighs!

Thy hair is lifted by the moon

Like flowers by the low breath of June!

Sit down, sit down — how came we here?

Or is it all but a dream, my dear?