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17 March 2009 @ 09:42 am
Owls to Gwen Jones, Astoria Dolohov, and Elizaveta Krum  
Gwen,

I find myself in England and at untied ends.  I am staying at hotel in muggle section.  Maybe one day we have lunch?

Your friend,
Viktor



Astoria,

Forgive this sudden owl.  I am remembering old times, better times, and my old friend Aleksey.  If it does not cause pain, maybe we can meet and discuss old times as well?

Viktor Krum



Майка ,

АЗ имам пристигам невредим към England. Правя не дърпам , АЗ мисля този е определителен член прав решение.

Любов,
Vityen'ka



 
 
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gwen_caliga: hello.[info]gwen_caliga on March 17th, 2009 09:27 pm (UTC)
Practice had been over for hours, but Gwen always flew long after her girls had gone home. The team actually had a manager, but she was incompetent at actually teaching anything. Gwen had long been the brain and will behind the Harpie's success, and as such, most of her time on the pitch was spent coaching.

Meaning after three hours of flying with the girls - dodging bludgers and running through Chaser patterns with her fab five, though she was hoping to get it down to a solid three - she spent another several hours in the air on her own with the Snitch.

She liked it that way. Flying was in her blood and she didn't need anyone to help her nearly kill herself by racing at speeds most people only dreamed of hitting on a broom, executing turns and twirls, and testing her meddle with dives at the turf.

Having survived this day's test of fate, Gwen pAdded through the top box at the stadium towards her corner suite. Collecting mail and memos from her secretary, Rose, Gwen pushed through the door to her office as she flipped through the various parchments. Shower first, then press and legal paperwork. A frown furrowed her brow. Fabriana had collected herself a stalker some years ago and the man had just been released on parole.

Heading towards her personal bathing suite, Gwen's attention was pulled from her thoughts by a cool breeze accross her cheek. It was still cool out, but it'd been sunny that day and Rose must have opened the window. Glancing up to confirm this thought, Gwen's eyes locked in a towering figure in her window.

The color drained from her face.

Tristan's owl was in her window, his gargoyle of an avian with the otherworldly eyes. What did he want? What, after all these months?

The memos slipped from her fingers to the desk as she passed by, and hand shaking, she retrieved the parchment from the large owl.

She stared at it for a long time, a torrent of emotions battling within her. Pain and hurt, but anger too. Slender fingers finally opened it and dark eyes scanned the contents.

Viktor.

Relief and disappointment warred. She didn't want to see Tristan again, but an irrational part of her wanted him to want her still, wanted him to love her as he said he had.

Letting a breath out, she set the note on her desk and headed towards her bathing suite, shaking hands unzipping her light jacket and peeling the snug-fitting sports top and leggings off as she moved.

Only when the hot water scalded against her skin did Gwen let out a shaky breath. Turning her face into the spray, she smoothed her hair back. If tears mixed with the water, no one was the wiser.


*~*~*~*~*~*

Viktor,

You know I've always time for an old friend. Dinner in a few days, perhaps? Saturday?

I rarely prepare food for myself as it's a chore for one, but I you'd rather not be out just now, you're more than welcome a my home. There's a fabulous restaurant in Mayfair as well, Italian, if that's closer to your preference.

Let me know, love.

Gwen
viktor_caliga: Full face[info]viktor_caliga on March 17th, 2009 11:24 pm (UTC)
Gwen,

Dinner on Saturday would be good. Italian is fine. Sedem. Seven? You will send directions, yes?

Viktor
gwen_caliga: come get me[info]gwen_caliga on March 18th, 2009 07:38 pm (UTC)
Viktor,

Seven is fine, and directions are enclosed.

Gwen
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