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“My dear little kote, Slavik is being a naughty boy. Won't you tell him to be good, or else papa is going to put his frowny face on?” Viktor Krum, multi-time quidditch world champion, approaches his wife in the kitchen of their fairytale home in the Bulgarian countryside, his arms full of children, but not the naughty Slavik, or Yaroslav, as is his full name. That is what happens though, when you call your eldest boy by a name meaning ‘fierce and glorious’ - you're asking for trouble.
His wife, who is busy making his favourite sweet treat, looks over her shoulder, and smiles mischievously. It's summer, so the sun is still up even though it's bedtime for the children, and that of course is part of the problem. Lifting a hand covered in chocolate batter, she hovers it over the cute little noses of the twin boy and girl riding in her husband's strong arms.
“And you two? Are you being good for papa? You know how very hard he works for us, don't you?” Alina asks, biting her lip and exchanging a heated glance with her adoring man, who looks back, dewy eyed.
“Yes, mama!” They chirp, and are thus rewarded with a dot of chocolate to their noses and lips, eliciting joyful giggles.
“They had a nightmare, so I'm making sure they know I'm here to fight all the monsters.” Viktor whispers, leaning over the heads of his children to kiss his wife. With a brood as large as theirs, it takes a while to put them all to bed, but it's one of the best parts of his day.
“You're the best, Vitya,” Alina replies against his lips, before pulling back and doting them with chocolate too. “I'll wipe this off and go see Slavik.”
Slavik kicks his little legs where he lies in his little bed. “But mama, I want to ride my broom! It's still light. Sleeping is for the dark.”
“While your logic is sound, my darling, little boys need their sleep. If you borrow time tonight, you will pay it back tomorrow, and you will not be able to ride your broom as long or as well as you'd like.” Sitting on her son's bed, Alina caresses his dark head, causing him to close his eyes happily, like the cat or dog. Like most of her children, he was born blond, but his hair gradually darkened to his father's black. It's fitting, because of all her and Viktor's offspring, he resembles the quidditch star the most.
“Aww, mooom…”
“One day I will let you try it out, and then you'll agree with me. As a future professional athlete, you must know your body's limits and how to treat it. You wouldn't overwork any of the animals, would you? You wouldn't stop them from sleeping?”
The introduction of concrete hypotheticals in the form of the family's beloved farm animals and pets causes the boy's dark eyes to widen as his mother's lesson takes on concrete form. No, he would not treat them as he wants to treat himself. "No, Mama. Yes, Mama. I'll go to sleep now, Mama…if you give me a kiss?”
“A hard bargainer, you are, my son.” Leaning down, mother lands a kiss on the centre of her busy little child's forehead. After that, he closes his eyes and falls asleep almost instantly, tired out from an entire day on the go.
“Well done, my kitten. I wish I had the words to argue a child to sleep.” Viktor, hands free of youngsters, grins and places them on his mate's waist, thickening once again, when she closes the door of the room Yaroslav shares with some of his brothers.
“Well, that's why God made women, Mr Krum. To do what is not suitable to you men.” Alina smiles, her turquoise eyes and golden hair full of the sun, bringing forth visions of the Aegean, Troy and Greece.
“Mmm…I'm forever grateful for that particular decision…” Lowering his head, Viktor rests his forehead against his wife's, their arms encircling and pulling each other closer and closer into an embrace until they form one person in two halves.