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"Vitya, you like riding a broom, correct? Have you ever heard of jousting? You'll like it." A man in full plate armour asks, from the huge warunicorn he's perched on. His helm is of the most magnificent sort, and features a plume of grey and blood red, while his armour itself enameled with silver and pearl and engraved with designs which include wolves, stag skulls, and mutant eagles.
It's a bright summer's day in Bulgaria, and Viktor Krum was (emphasis on was) attempting to go for a nice summer walk full of tall, dark, and handsome brooding, when he was accosted by this medieval vision. Even worse, the sun bouncing off the steel both blinds and burns him.
"What?!" His time at Durmstrang taught him to attack first and never ask questions, so that is what he does, yanking his wand from the pocket of his Adidas short shorts. Unfortunately for him, his helmeted opponent is quicker off the mark and disarms him before throwing him over his horse and taking off at a gallop.
It is over a thousand miles to Moscow from Bulgaria, and after a week spent camping with, sleeping besides, bathing in the same river as, and being abducted by the grey knight, Viktor eventually comes to understand that he's no stranger at all, but his best friend, Yuri.
"You could just ask me to come do whatever it is you need, idiot." He grumbles, walking beside the massive, massively aggressive equine which hates his guts for the inalienable fact of his possessing a Y chromosome. For some reason though, the beast does not absolutely detest it's rider, who also possesses a Y chromosome.
"Unicorns hate men."
"I'm an exception."
"…You're a Gary Stu."
The pair walk down a muggle highway, on the grass verge near to an impermeable wall of trees, the cars passing by ignoring them utterly. This is Russia, after all.
"If I told you I wanted you to come joust with me, you'd claim you were busy-"
"I am busy!"
"I don't consider chasing balls and simping to be practices worthy of that label."
Viktor says something very rude in Bulgarian, but smiles. "Explain what jousting is."
"You know what it is. You're not a peasant. Unlock your ancestral memories."
This Viktor duly does, suddenly becoming extremely enthused. Charging full speed at other guys with extremely dangerous pieces of pointy wood held under his arm? Yessssss!
"Why do you never just tell me we're going to do violence?"
"Hehehe, because I prefer being inscrutable. Also, I wanted to see how long it would take you to recognise me."
"…It wasn't that long."
From Moscow it's only another five hundred and sixty four miles to Lake Ladoga, where Durmstrang sits.
"Oh, Headmaster, you brought Viktor Krum! Yay!" Squeal a group of fresh faced pupils sitting on horses clad in armour, a group of them surrounding Yuri and looking down at the bearded, shoe-less, dirty and decrepit homeless man standing next to him.
"Why did you make me walk, Yura?" asks the superstar, reproach in his voice. He cheers up after a rest, a shave, and food and drink, cheering up even further when he's given a horse, armour, and the all important lance.
“I'm so going to win this.” he says, studying his black and red spiral weapon. The lance is almost cooler than the fact that his horse is a hypogriff.
Things become slightly worrying when Durmstrang students sitting on ostriches and condors begin lining up, either beside him or opposite him. Things become truly concerning when Yuri appears on the sidelines, still on his unicorn (it's horn dripping blood) and magics floating platforms into the air with a flamboyant twirl of his wand.
Viktor gulps. "…Uh, Yurets? This is beginning not to look like my great grandfather's joust…"