A ship from the lake rose alone, bringing with it a mass of men.
Men from the North, with Bulgarian accents.
Cedric watched, enthralled. He counted them as they stomped the plank,
but lost track near the end.
"Is that Viktor Krum?" he asks.
His only response; a Bulgarian mystery.
His mouth ajar, he watches Krum move.
Awkward, yet attractive.
"I must meet him," Cedric says.
"He's famous," he reasons.
Inside, Cedric burns with a desire he's never felt.
Festering, it pulls him towards the foreign man.
Their eyes briefly lock; Cedric grins like a dork.
Krum grunts, walking faster.