My life is brilliant.
My love is pure.
I saw an angel.
Of that I'm sure.
She smiled at me on the subway.
She was with another man.
But I won't lose no sleep on that,
'Cause I've got a plan.
You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw you face in a crowded place,
And I don't know what to do,
'Cause I'll never be with you.
Yeah, she caught my eye,
As we walked on by.
She could see from my face that I was,
F***ing high,
And I don't think that I'll see her again,
But we shared a moment that will last till the end.
You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw your face in a crowded place,
And I don't know what to do,
'Cause I'll never be with you.
You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
There must be an angel with a smile on her face,
When she thought up that I should be with you.
But it's time to face the truth,
I will never be with you.
~You're Beautiful
by: James Blunt
Chapter 1: The Girl
Since he had received the letter, Viktor finished reading it for the fifth time. The words didn’t change, no matter how much he wished they would. How could she do this to me? he thought. He had always thought they’d stay together, at least until the end of the year. Now, the letter didn’t even let him down easy; it was downright cruel.
His tears had smudged the ink, making it impossible to read. Not that it mattered; he’d memorized it. Why? Why did she do this? Why right this minute?
“Viktor, it’s time to play,” grunted Dimitrov, who was one of the Chasers on the Bulgarian International Quidditch team.
Viktor nodded his head and lit the parchment on fire; he never wanted to see it again.
Viktor shuffled onto the Pitch, glad to have something to distract him. He flew into the air and that’s when he saw her. She wasn’t extraordinary; she had bushy brown hair, dark eyes, and warm skin. But to him, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
She’s glowing, he thought to himself. C’mon Viktor, you’re losing it. No! he corrected himself, she’s glowing with warmth. I wish I could feel that warmth.
He didn’t know what was happening with the match; he was too busy watching the girl in the top box. She was sitting between a rather skinny boy with dark hair and a boy with very red hair. Viktor pulled a Wronski Feint hoping to impress her; everyone else seemed to have enjoyed it, but she seemed somewhat indifferent.
He fell back into his trance, watching every little movement, she made. At that moment, she was talking to the skinny dark haired boy. I wish that were me.
He was brought back to reality when a Bludger crashed into his nose and that’s when he saw it, the Golden Snitch. This is how I can impress her.
Moments later the match was over and he’d thought he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. What have I done? I’m such an idiot.
When Viktor landed he was surrounded by mediwizards within seconds. Just go away! He wanted to be alone; he refused their help and walked off the field, the blood flowing freely from his nose. He felt near tears again.
Suddenly one of his teammates appeared and told him to clean up, they had to go to the top box. Viktor’s heart skipped about twenty beats. Pull yourself together!
Soon he was shaking hands with people he didn’t care about; all of his attention was on the girl with the bushy brown hair. She is so beautiful. Yet, no sooner did he get close enough to talk to her, he was whisked away.
He was sitting in his tent at the Bulgarian team’s campsite remembering everything he could about his mystery girl when Dimitrov stuck his head in the tent.
He still looked a little disappointed about the outcome of the match. Oddly enough, Dimitrov, or any of the others for that matter, had not blamed Viktor. They blamed ‘that Damned Irish team.’ But that didn’t matter because he still blamed himself.
“Viktor, Ivana is here,” Dimitrov grunted.
Ivana? he thought, remembering the letter. He had completely forgotten about the letter, as well as Ivana. All he could think about was the girl in the top box, the one with the beautiful brown hair. What did Ivana want?
She walked into the tent; her long black hair fell to her waist. Her milky white arm reached out to him, but he pushed her away. “Viktor, what is wrong?” she asked as tears began to glisten in her ash gray eyes.
“`It’s been fun Viktor, it really has, but I have to end it.’ Sound familiar?” he retorted. “No? Well, here, try this, `Viktor I’ve been with someone else for the past year.’ No? Okay, then, here, how about, `You could never be the man I want, but sure, you’re famous and that kept me interested for a while, but Viktor, you’re just not good enough.’ DOES ANY OF THAT SOUND FAMILIAR?” he bellowed.
Ivana’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You’ll regret this Viktor,” she sounded deadly calm, although her eyes gleamed with anger and hate. She spun around and walked out of the tent and out of his life. And quite surprisingly, he didn’t care.
Viktor took a deep calming breath as he walked to his bunk. As he laid down he thought, At least I have the Triwizard Tournament to look forward to.
He sighed and closed his eyes. As he fell asleep he thought of the girl in the top box; She looked so beautiful, so warm. I wish I could have met her.
She would continue to haunt his dreams for quite some time. Who was she?
Author's Note: What do you think? It's my first fan fiction (well, I can't really call it mine, the story idea belongs to Traci). Please review!