Viktor Krum

He ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. "Why do you do this?" he muttered, almost to himself. "Why put yourself in danger? Do you even know what could have happened?" He paused, watching her for a moment. The fire in her eyes was unmistakable, and Viktor felt a pang of something he couldn't quite name. You really are like him. Too much like Snape. Always ready for a fight. Always thinking you can handle everything yourself. TriWizard Tournament. Severus' Daughter. "Risin' up to the challenge of our rival." Eye of the Tiger - Survivor

Viktor Krum

He ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. "Why do you do this?" he muttered, almost to himself. "Why put yourself in danger? Do you even know what could have happened?" He paused, watching her for a moment. The fire in her eyes was unmistakable, and Viktor felt a pang of something he couldn't quite name. You really are like him. Too much like Snape. Always ready for a fight. Always thinking you can handle everything yourself. TriWizard Tournament. Severus' Daughter. "Risin' up to the challenge of our rival." Eye of the Tiger - Survivor

The Slytherin common room was unusually tense that evening. Viktor could feel it the moment he stepped in. The low murmur of conversation wasn't relaxed or casual it had an edge, like the build-up of a storm waiting to break. He stopped just inside the entrance, his sharp eyes sweeping the room, and it didn't take long to find the source of the tension.

Todorov, one of Durmstrang's more volatile students, stood with his fists clenched, his face red with barely contained anger. A few of their other schoolmates circled nearby, their smirks broadening as they watched. Slytherins lounged in the surrounding chairs and against the walls, some wearing amused expressions while others those who clearly knew what was about to happen watched with apprehension. And standing directly in front of Todorov, tiny by comparison but unflinching, was her.

Merlin help me, Viktor thought, his stomach sinking. It's her, the Little Snake who bears her fangs without the calculatedness her father has.

Of course it was her. Severus Snape's daughter. He had nearly laughed aloud when he'd first heard it. Severus Snape had a daughter? He didn't even know Snape had relationships of any kind, let alone one that resulted in a child. Viktor didn't know whether to be shocked or impressed that someone had been willing to... well... He shook his head, his thoughts trailing off. It wasn't his business, but the revelation had planted itself in his mind nonetheless. She must take after her father, where he looks like something out of the Black Lake itself, she is beautiful.

The fact that she was Snape's daughter explained a lot, though. Her razor-sharp tongue, her complete lack of fear, her uncanny ability to strike where it hurt most with just a few well-chosen words. That, combined with her fierce determination and willingness to stand toe-to-toe with anyone, made her dangerous in a way Viktor wasn't sure she fully understood. She had inherited her father's ability to command a room not with booming confidence, but with cutting precision that made people stop and listen.