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Viktor Krum, a grown man of twenty-five, was never going to stop being a fat faced cherub in the eyes of his adoring parents, never going to stop being their pride and joy. To give birth to such an angel, such a god amongst men, is no common feat, and they would not be lax in their duties.
'Are you okay, Vitenka? Are you having fun? Is Yurochka taking care of you? Love, mom & dad xxx'
Asked the first owl, which dropped onto Viktor Krum's stomach where he lay gaining himself a five star Durban tan beside a five star Durban pool at a five star Durban hotel. His best friend Yuri accidentally on purpose landing them in South Africa proved to be a fortitous thing.
"Oof!" The creature winded him, but thankfully that only made the pretty women sunbathing near him giggle, especially when the ball of fluff began rolling around the tiles, squawking.
"Vitya, are you going to read its letter?" Companion-in-vacation and handler, Yuri, said, from the next sunbed over. He only gave his charge half a second to answer before flicking his hand at the owl to make it cannonball and hit Viktor in the stomach again.
"No."
"You'd better. I think it's from your parents."
"That's why I'm not keen on reading it."
But Viktor did read the letter, answering back in the affirmative to each question. After sending the creature back from whence it came, he attempted to return to his holiday demeanor, succeeding after several mimosas.
"When have I ever not been okay?" he asked himself, his douchebag wraparound goggles making him over and above the coolest person in the city, let alone the hotel.
✉️🦉✉️
'Darling Vitenka, how are you? Are you staying away from bad influences? We hope you're not partying too hard. You must still get your training in. Don't disappoint mumsy and dadsy xxx'
Viktor read this during his favourite part of 'Stayin' Alive' by the Bee Gees. The bird carrying the letter infiltrated the muggle nightclub he was having the time of his life in, in the process relieving itself all over most of the other clubgoers, who failed to notice.
"What's that letter say?!" Shouted Yuri, where he was dancing beside his charge. Yuri and the horde of happy girls surrounding him. Black girls, white girls, yellow girls, all the girls.
"Don't worry about it!" Viktor shouted back, stowing the letter under his souvenir backwards facing baseball cap.
✉️🦉✉️
'Have you been remembering to change your underwear and brush your teeth, sweetheart? We've sent owls to Yurochka to remind him to remind you.'
Viktor looked from his letter to his suitcase, which contained nothing but several pairs of swimming goggles and his favourite fold up racing broom. Behind him, lounging on his bed, his pal pressed button after button on the weird fat black wand that was hanging out on his nightstand when he entered the hotel room. Something happened to the weird black rectange on the wall everytime he did.
"Vitya, I recieved a very uncomfortable letter from your folks earlier-"
"Say a single word more, and I will hex you."
Meanwhile:
'Yurochka, I don't know what you're doing gallivanting around in the Southern Hemisphere, but you must return immediately. I have work to do.'
'Yura, I have work for you to do. Also, kindly return my Viktor Krum. He's mine, not yours.'
'Yuri, don't make me come find you, boy.'
Yuri read these missives, safe in the knowledge that his father would instantly become distracted by and entranced with African beauties the second he stepped foot on the dark continent. And indeed, the last letter arrived on the day the owl divebombed Viktor at the pool, and nothing had been heard from the foxy professor since.