KRUM, Sevastian Luka
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KRUM, Sevastian Luka

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KRUM, Sevastian Luka Empty KRUM, Sevastian Luka

Post by Baldric Pierson Sat Jun 18, 2011 4:50 pm

KRUM, Sevastian Luka Tumblr_lkbxq8QJWA1qggzijo1_400



    FULL NAME: Sevastian Luka Krum
    ‘Sevastian is the Russian form of Sebastian. Pronounced as it is written, with emphasis on the v, Sevastian was the first name my parents thought of when my mother was pregnant with me. Her decision was made almost immediately and Sevastianova was to be used in the event that I was a girl. My middle name, Luka, is a variant of Luke. I don’t really think she picked this one. I believe my father preferred this over Sevastian and insisted that my middle name be Luka if he could not have the first. I don’t exactly know what its route is but if my father holds it high in favour then I can only do but accept it. It is, after all, the only middle name I will ever possess. I cannot complain for it is not too awful. I have heard many a tale of arguments over names in this family. I find myself feeling rather glad that mine is not as bad as it is could have been. Krum, as ever, is an old Pureblood name. We reside in Bulgaria normally but my great-grandfather moved our branch to Russia ad that is where I have grown up.’

    ALIASES: Sev, Sevastianova, ‘Pretty Eyes’ – by his mother.
    ‘I am rarely called by my first name. My mother prefers Pretty Eyes and often my father will go along with that in a teasing manner. My brothers call me Sev but it is my sisters who call me Sevastianova – the name I would have possessed had I been a girl. In their eyes, I am a girl. Stood together, you wouldn’t think for a second that I am a son instead of a daughter. They always took great joy out of dressing me up when I was younger. That joy has extended to my teenage years. My feminine features have yet to harden into something more masculine and my eldest sister, Andreiana, has a bet with my brothers that my features will never develop into something more masculine. I am beginning to believe them. The things they put me in is always more comfortable than the suits that my father forces me into every time there is a ball or some sort of social gala. I cannot afford to embarrass him there. Seemingly, Sevastianova is more fitting; or at least, that’s what they call me when they’ve finished dressing me up in Merlin only knows what.’

    GENDER: Male.
    ‘[awkward laughter] You wouldn’t believe it would you? Looking at me you’d say for sure I was a girl. Sorry about that. I hope you’re not as disappointed as my father. I have an androgynous look. That’s what Andreiana said and at first I didn’t believe her. That, of course, was when my hair was cropped short and they were putting flowers in my hair instead of curling it and bringing it up into half pony tails. I don’t care either way you know? Think what you want. I prefer my hair long. I don’t particularly like it short. If you want to think I’m a girl, go for it. I really don’t mind. It’s flattering in a way I suppose. It is realistic, too. I isn’t as if I exude masculinity is it?’

    AGE: Fifteen.
    ‘I turn sixteen next December. I was born on December 1st and by then the snow had already fallen around the house. That meant that my mother could not give birth at the Hospital. She could no Apparate by then and it was too late to Floo there. Thankfully the Healers came t her and I was born a little after twelve, just as the day had begun. I was an average weight, perhaps even a little under the preferred amount, and I was welcomed into the family as the last child my mother would give birth to. She kept by her word, too. There were no more children after me. She’s had fifteen years since my birth to have another child but she’s chosen not to, deciding that her family is complete. I will be starting my O.W.L examinations this year. I’m oddly looking forward to them. They keep expecting greatness from me. I am worried that perhaps I won’t achieve what they want from me but I have great confidence in myself. I think I am fairly intelligent and worldly aware for my age so why shouldn’t I achieve top scores? I work hard so I think I definitely deserve them.’

    ALLEGIANCE: The Krum Family, Potter’s Army,
    ‘My family are fairly well known you could say. We’ve got so many powerful people present that it is a wonder there aren’t more struggles for power. Our head of the family is Viktor Krum the...wait, I know this. I believe he is the fourth but do not quote me on that as I may be wrong. My allegiance is, as ever, to my family. No other faction or people could sway my loyalty to my family. That will never change. I believe firmly in that. However, at school I belong to “Potter’s Army” a school run faction that I use purely as a place to hone my wand skills. I do not wish to fight any wars for them - I am content without that.’

    HOGWARTS HOUSE: Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff.
    ‘They say our houses are like our homes. I cannot say I agree all of the time. My house is very welcoming to me and has always been very welcoming. What I sense is a little bit of rejection from some of the people in my house. It’s strange because I’ve never had a problem with ‘it’ before. I am a hard working student so I fit right in but I can’t quite blend. The fact that I am a Krum, one of the cousins of Elijah and Cecilia, does not help. I tend to be a contrast to them. They’re dark and brooding and I tend to be, well, the exact opposite. Obviously I can try and out brood Elijah but no one can really outdo that drama queen. I think out of the two, I like Cecilia a bit better. Don’t get me wrong, Elijah’s great, but Cecilia is just that little bit more...down to earth I find. Of course we all have our days but she seems to be better company. I also fail to blend in with my characteristics. Blonde, pale....I hardly find it easy to slip into crowds unnoticed. The robes usually help but when we’re on a Hogsmeade visit, I’m hardly a chameleon that can change its spots.’

    CLASSES: Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms.
    ‘I enjoy my classes a great deal. Obviously it’s getting harder now that I’m progressing through the years but its great fun. Potions is probably my favourite lesson. Ironically, my brothers hated it. Of course it does very little for my hair but I can’t complain because it is something I love. Defence comes a close second. The teacher is much more agreeable than the Headmaster and we learn a great deal. I love the subject but not as much as I adore the wonder of potion making. Charms is, well, fantastic of course. Apart from the fact that we have a dozen teachers each term, it’s a brilliant class and you learn so much. I suppose that is what is important. It’s better than me saying that we don’t learn anything at all. I do take a few other classes Herbology, History of Magic – that sort of thing. I enjoy all of those but I can’t deny I’m looking for something a little more challenging.’

    WAND TYPE: Black Walnut, Augurey tail feather, 13 inches, Sturdy.
    ‘My wand isn’t the most agreeable of wands. It commands great respect – not just from me but from those who even come near it. I don’t know exactly how that works but it does. I have had the wand since I turned eleven. We went into Moscow and spent time in one of the darker wand shops. Many hours were spent in there until I bonded with the right wand. I then found that despite wielding it; my magic was as erratic as ever. It was the same as it had been before – tapping heavily into my emotions. It was for that reason that my father sent it back. It came back a few weeks later and it not only felt different but it smelt differently too. It now has a handle made from (apparently) Thestral bone. I don’t quite understand that because I can see it. My father explained that once the animal is dead and the flesh disappears, the bones can still be retrieved. It has added something to my wandwork. I still don’t know what though. After having messed around with it for a few days before it was taken away, I feel I knew the wand well. I can say, though, that whatever was done to it has made it a better wand.’

    PLAY BY: Andrej Pejic


    HAIR COLOR: Bleach Blonde, formerly a mousy brown.
    ‘I wasn’t born with the Krum genes per se. I was born with a mop of brown hair – not raven or whatever colour my father and most of my siblings possess. Only Niko has the same mousy, dirty brown colour in his hair. But unlike Niko my hair immediately began to change. I learned why when I was little, receiving tutelage on how to control my additional powers. I am a Metamorphagus and the immediate change in hair colour was my parents’ first real indication that what they had on their hands was a wizard – and they were overjoyed. Obviously my power was influenced – and still is heavily influenced – by my emotions. I’d change my hair colour, my eye colour and even the shape of my face depending on my mood. That was always awkward when I was unable to properly control it so if I had to go into a Muggle community, my mother would make me wear a veil over my face and would tell those who enquired that I was incredibly fair – which was true. When I got control of my hair, I found I liked it the white-blonde colour it is now. It is also adamant that it remains long. My nanny’s attempts to cut it when I was a child ended in disaster because after cropping it the night before in preparation for me being presented to my parents, it would grow during the night and so I would be forced to greet them with hair down to my knees. Now of course it isn’t as long as that but it still has a great length to it and I adore it.’

    EYE COLOR: Light blue.
    ‘I wasn’t born with the specific Krum gene for eyes either. While everyone else adheres to the dark eyed requirement of this family, my eyes were as clear as day – blue like the sky. Like my hair, those began to change too. There was no hiding my eyes though. Even when I was little they seemed to draw in whoever was looking my way. I think they too changed with my emotions. They also seemed to grow. The puppy-dog/saucer-eye thing was real when it concerned me. According to my nanny, when I was upset or desperate to have something my eyes would increase in size. They were impossible to ignore as far as I know – just because of the size and the persuasion (the Krum charm) that lay behind the irises. I can’t say I remember any of that or much else from when I was a child but I think whatever I did must have worked quite well if it meant I got half of the attention and half of the stuff that they gave me.’

    HEIGHT: 5’11
    ‘Height was the one gene that came out right I think. All of my brothers and sister are tall. Everyone I’ve ever met that is a part of this family is tall. I know that most of us peak at around six foot two plus. I seem to still be growing and I’m already tall enough. My stature seems to be the only thing that genuinely impresses my father. I can’t say that I disagree but it is fairly imposing. I tower over my peers (though, not Elijah who has me beat by a couple of feet) and that usually gets them after they actually take in my face. Obviously the reactions vary and it’s funny to see them stagger back with wide eyes and a slack jaw. It does get bothersome at times but I’m usually amused by the reactions so it is rare for anything along those lines to bother me.’

    BODY TYPE: Slender, Underweight.
    ‘This is about right I suppose. I’m not exactly the biggest of people – which adds to the femininity – but I also lack the curve of certain bones and skin planes that would have leant to the outward, feminine appearance. I’m bony, gangly and “entirely too thin for my own good”; to quote my nanny. They care of course and try to feed me more than I actually want. My sisters are equally thin so you can see how it is genetic and not self-controlled. We’ve all got big appetites but we know when to stop. I’ve been given a wonderful metabolism – as have my sisters – it is our brothers that have to work-out to either burn off the fat or turn it into muscle.’

    ‘I never really had the Krum genes. You know, the dark hair-dark eyed trademark of our family? Yes well, I did not possess that. When I was born I was a tiny little creature with wide eyes, the irises of which appeared to have been dipped into the ocean itself, and a crop of mousy brown hair. I was milk chocolate instead of the dark chocolate you’d find on a Krum’s crown. I was also a lot paler than my father who seemed to tan at any break of sunlight. My mother is Russian though and she seemed to have permanently snowy skin. So, that was what I inherited. As soon as I was born though, my hair changed colour. Then it did it again; and again and again and again. Eventually I had this mop of bright pink hair which the healers sheared off. Of course, over night it grew back – this time a Bat Bogey Hex green. My eyes did the same although they couldn’t exactly cut them out – in fact thankfully it was impossible because goodness only knows what they would have done had they known eyes were capable of regrowth. My hair however was and they spent years battling with it to no avail; every time they hacked it off it grew back even longer. It was an admirable try but throughout my childhood, attempts to change my appearance failed, ending with begrudging acceptance.

    I don’t really wear the business casual clothes most of my family do. Even my sisters are made up and swathed in pearls for when the occasion calls for it. I prefer simple t-shirts and generally the first things I grab. Jeans are good but belts are needed to keep them on my hips so I have a rather extensive belt collection – luck me, eh? I like long sleeved shirts mainly because it’s always fun to roll them up later. More often than not I am bought a contrast of feminine and masculine things and I have to mix and match so I appease my father as well as myself. I am a fan of red and black together. Burgundy is ‘the family colour’ so that’s always approved of. Of course, I am also fond of green and silver. It’s Christmassy – kind of. I love turtle neck jumpers and I adore baggy outerwear. Of course the love of beautiful coats runs in the family and so I put effort into that aspect of my dress but I much prefer lounging around in one of my brothers’ jumpers and a pair of comfortable trousers. That rarely ever happens though so I have to wear a cross between extremely masculine stuff that is too tight to come off that way (tight because they need it to stay on my body and not just fall off) and some feminine touches.

    I have been told that I look the most masculine (and like my brothers) when my hair is straightened and taken off of my face. Now that doesn’t happen very often. I like running a brush through my hair in the mornings and letting it do whatever it wants to. I don’t have a lot of taste for jewellery but when I was little my sisters pierced my ears so I have the holes for them if I wanted to wear some. I like beaded necklaces though I can’t wear them because it goes against something in the family or something – I don’t know. Rings I wear an abundance of – just like everyone else. One is inevitably the Krum seal and the others are a mix between heirlooms and ones I have bought for myself or have been bought. I don’t have any tattoos or whatever people have these days. I have a fair few moles though – that has always seemingly been a problem for my parents. They’ve tried to burn them off more often than not but conveniently they’ve always returned. I am slight yet sky-scraper tall and seem to be a little more feminine than my sisters. However, I’m still me though aren’t I? I’m still a bloke last time I checked.’


    001. Clever.
    002. Sweet.
    003. Obedient.
    004. Charming.
    005. Affectionate.
    006. Loyal.
    007. Witty.
    008. Efficient.
    009. Persevering.
    010. Effervescent.

    001. Shrewd.
    002. Timid.
    003. Self-Critical.
    004. Broody.
    005. Indecisive.
    006. Naive.
    007. Anxious and jumpy.
    008. Daydreamer.
    009. Impulsive.
    010. Argumentative when provoked.

    001. Shopping with his sisters.
    002. Composing letters.
    003. Winter mornings.
    004. Studying Ancient Runes.
    005. Neatness.
    006. Muggle movies.
    007. Brightly coloured shoelaces.
    008. Monkeys.
    009. Strawberry jam.
    010. Hot chocolate with double whipped cream.

    001. Dogs.
    002. Awkwardness between him and his father.
    003. House Elves.
    004. Quidditch.
    005. Bulgaria.
    006. Family meals.
    007. Summer.
    008. Pumpkin Juice.
    009. Science-Fiction books.
    010. Excess jewellery.

    001. To finally please his father.
    002. To get a respectable job at the Ministry of Magic; British or otherwise.
    003. To learn to like Quidditch – whether it kills him or not.
    004. To perhaps move to Muggle Ireland and lead his own life.
    005. To buy an Aston Martin of any kind.

    001. Purses his lips when bored or distracted.
    002. Plaits his hair before he goes to bed.
    003. Uses his cutlery the ‘wrong’ way.
    004. Cracks his fingers and toes.
    005. Ties his shoes twice.
    006. Writes on his arms and legs with Sharpies.
    007. Prefers his own bed linens over the Hogwarts ones.
    008. Prefers walking outside barefoot.
    009. Insists on baths rather than showers.
    010. Likes second-hand items over new ones.

    BOGGART: His father’s disapproval.
    'Despite being faced with the pursed lips and the furrowed brow from my father in regards to everything I do, I still fear his disappointment. I have always wanted, even from an early age, so badly to please him but I can’t. I know I can’t yet I still find myself desperate to do so. He doesn’t like me – I’ve come to terms with that – but that doesn’t mean he’s any less the man I used to idolize as a child. Despite that idolization, I have turned out quite a bit different than I should have done and I think that baffles him. He doesn’t see his accomplished son; he sees his son who looks more like a daughter. He sees someone who looks out of place wearing a suit. He can’t see my achievements - all he sees is disaster. The potentially impeccable O.W.L scores will pale in comparison to my brothers’ and sisters’ scores because of who I am; because of what I look like. I loathe and despise that with every fabric of my being. The prejudice he has towards me drives me to the brink and back. The worst time is Christmas when he watches me unwrap my presents. There are two extremes in the way of presents for me. I’ll get girls things and I’ll get boys things. My senile, old relatives will send skirts and dresses and gorgeous coats lined with faux-animal fur. His lip curls in disdain every year. I have tried to put off trying the things on but I am whisked off with my sisters and pushed into the clothes I have been bought because ‘it’s fun’. They’ll eye up what I’m wearing and divide it out between them. Often I’ll keep a couple of the coats and maybe a blouse or two but it is rare for me to keep any of the beautiful clothes intended for the youngest daughter in Pavlo Krum’s family. They’ll whisk the dresses away and get them fitted to their curvaceous figures while I’ll be left with poorly fitting men’s clothes and a new set of Quidditch Beater’s Bats he knows I’ll never use. Despite being swathed in both sides of gender through no fault of my own, I chose the male side of the coin to make him happy. This makes little to no difference though because he will glare and stalk away for another malt whisky, leaving me standing with equipment and clothes that I’ll never use. He doesn’t see me; in truth, I don’t know what he sees but it certainly isn’t his son – I’m just a disappointment.’

    PATRONUS: The day Mikhail walked out.
    ‘That probably makes me sound really quite awful but that truly was the best day to date. I remember it vividly. I was about thirteen or fourteen and it was the summer – though at home it was still freezing – and Mikhail came home from wherever he’d been. He claimed to have been in Paris and he sat us all down where he told us tales of how he and our cousin, Elijah, spent their days. He spoke of how little he recalled because of the alcohol haze they were both in. Both our parents pursed their lips at this but nothing was said as Mikhail launched into another, adjoining tale of how he woke up one morning in the bed of someone he did not recall spending the evening with the night before. He said it was a little box room with beautiful crafted furnishings. It was small but something – no doubt the light that blew in through the balcony doors – made it feel larger. Of course then he told us he rolled over and found his bed partner. He did not tell us details about this person, he called them in instead – shocking me and everyone else to the core. It was a he; not a she, a he. Emilián Marek was a breath of fresh air but he got no warm greetings – from anyone. I shifted anxiously in my seat and looked around the room as no one moved. Mikhail was forced to come to the realization that no one was going to accept his ‘lifestyle’. I’ll always remember the way he and Emilián paled. They both swallowed in time with each other and Mikhail turned on his heal, stalking out of the room. Then, the shouting began. That wasn’t the happy part though; in fact, it was the complete opposite.

    ‘The happy part was later on that night when I found myself in the kitchens nursing a mug of hot chocolate, contemplating the day’s events. Mikhail and Emilián had gone to bed abruptly and soon after, at the demand of my father, everyone followed. Mikhail found me in the kitchens, a soft smile on his ruby red lips. I remember him with great clarity. His hair was tousled and his neck was decorated with purple bruises. He was clad in a single pair of boxers that didn’t look as if they belonged to him and he had the most stupid grin on his face. He sat down with me and sobered himself up from the, quote, “rush of pleasure”. We dived into our own discussion about the family and his words were ones that have stayed with me and now decorate my body. “You are a bird trapped in a cage with an open door. Spread your wings and prove them wrong; take flight and be free.” In short he told me to do right by me and not by them; to lead my own way. I’ve wanted to – Merlin’s knows I’ve wanted to – but the door has been left open because they know I am not big enough nor brave enough to leave; and besides, even if I did fly away, where would I go? Aptly, my Patronus takes the form of a little dove.’

    DEMENTOR: The day of Sevastian’s betrothal.
    ‘It was a Thursday – snow was fresh on the ground and I can remember seeing the carriage roll precariously up the path. I’d had my hair cut the day before and I’d been suited up that morning by Nanny Eva. Breakfast was an awkward affair. We had a pre-breakfast before their arrival and I found myself being ushered downstairs towards the grand dining room. She was a beautiful girl, sure, but she was not exactly what I’d imagined. She was coarse and rude, expecting so much out of those that gave their hours to us. She had thrown her coat at the doorman and her parents had followed suit. Her elder brother was equally foul and he lost the respect of my elder brothers upon stepping over the threshold. After breakfast we were forced into some sort of binding ceremony. I can remember the way her smirk twisted into a grimace of fear. He eyes widened as the magic settle around us and I can recall looking over at the morbid look on my father’s face before losing consciousness. I’ve relived something akin to that nearly every year since then. Her name is one I barely care to recall but father is insistent I spend time with her at least for a few days every summer. Apparently at some point she will be attending Hogwarts – no doubt in my seventh year before the impending wedding. I think he’s decided that even I can’t quite bugger that up.’

    VERITASERUM: The best kept secret.
    ‘It depends on what you want to know really but if you have me under Vertiaserum then you’ll probably get out of me this particular secret that I’d rather keep to myself. No one is going to see this right? Promise? Okay good, thank-you. There’s an unspoken rule in the Krum family that you can do what you want and have who you want before your wedding day. The stipulations are that you don’t get any diseases and you don’t get anyone pregnant. This means incest is rife – even within the very core of the family cousins, brothers and sisters are getting together left right and centre. I’m actually glad I live in Russia, away from the Bulgarian hive of hedonism. But there was on year when the head of the family (Viktor Krum IV – Elijah and Cecilia’s father) called a family gathering. We packed up and moved shop much to the chagrin of my father. We had our own wing in the overly expansive house and we found ourselves surrounded by the sexual promiscuity of the Krum court – because that was what it was, a court with Viktor as the King. There was wine and dancing and food in abundance. People both familiar and unfamiliar to me were locking lips before disappearing upstairs in search of the first soft surface they could find. You could say we’re worse than the Black family – and that’s probably true – but the one thing the head of the family does is ensure that nothing potentially damaging to the family – like pregnancy and telling newspaper articles. What goes on in the manor apparently stays there.’

    ‘So one night I find myself downstairs in the parlour playing cards with some of my cousins. Someone decided in their infinite wisdom that it was a good idea to play strip poker. I was rubbish at poker – still am – and so I found myself sat there in my boxers with giggling women surrounding the table, caressing the bare shoulders of the men that had genuinely lost a hand or had lost for their own gain. I had been told a vague description of what went on at the card table but at the time I’d paid no attention to my brother’s warning as he had been seen slipping out of rooms belonging to different women for most of the week. What didn’t help was that the Krums also employed he services of random women (and men) from the outside. The house was teeming with people including my betrothed who my father had decided to bring with us. She was the one that had been vying for my attentions for most of the evening and in my drunken state, her arms wrapped around my neck were oddly comforting.’

    ‘You can only guess what happened next can’t you? I woke up to find my head on her stomach. I can remember running my hands up her sides and stifling a moan as her fingers raked through my hair. Of course when we finally realised who the other was, the peace was broken and the arguments started. She chucked me out and since then we haven’t spoken a word to each other. Neither of us will tell my father or her father what happened and I don’t think she plans to – I certainly won’t. She’s actually been working harder to terminate the betrothal though it is incredibly unlikely to happen now. There is definitely no love lost between us and the secret is best kept quiet – for our own self-preservation as well as the families. This happens but outwardly, it does not. As far as the world knows, the Krum kids (no matter what part of the tree they’re on) are virgins on their wedding nights. Obviously Elijah is an exception – or the exception in the public eye but there is a lot of politics involved with keeping things like infidelity and sex prior to marriage a secret. In retrospect it probably wasn’t that bad of a thing to happen but it is something that warrants a hush-up. Sad, I know, but there it is.’

    MIRROR OF ERISED: To be free.
    ‘Don’t we all have this desire though? I want to take life by the reigns and live the way I want to.’

    Sevastian is not your average Krum son. He’s a son of the Bulgarian-turned-Russian part of the tree and as such he’s evolved beyond the family politics and hedonism that has the inner Krum family. He’s a mild mannered, sweet boy who just wants acceptance from his family. He’s been the white sheep since he was little – not fitting in at all. He always seemed to stand out in the proverbial crowd. The Krums with their similar features and traits all seemed to blend in to one another but he stood out like the angel amongst the devils – the most innocent out of the lot. It’s because of this that he is easily manipulated but is smart enough to see when it is being done. Yet, for a reason unknown to him as well as his family members – Sevastian does very little about it. He’s meek and accepting of things yet he can set off like a firecracker – just like any other Krum – if the need for it arises. Usually he’ll lose his tether during an argument with his father and he’ll get his claws out but usually, Sevastian is a very calm and collected individual that is incredibly unlikely to shout at anyone let alone his father whom he strives to impress.

    Sevastian is incredibly intelligent and quick-witted; and though he prefers to be left alone he doesn’t do too badly when thrust into social situations. He has a line for everything and everyone and he is effortlessly charming. However, despite this, Sevastian isn’t as at ease around people he likes romantically. He flushes scarlet and chews his lips until the skin breaks and bleeds. He is incredibly sensitive and doesn’t take too well to criticism. Sevastian also has trouble in deciding what to do with his self. It takes him nigh on forever to make a decision and it is rare for him to make the right one if he does. Sevastian is also incredibly jumpy but that may have something to do with how insufferably enthusiastic he is. Though, just like every Krum, he can be broody and anti-social and more often than not. He can be incredibly energetic one moment then his mood will darken and there will be no talking to him.

    He is also incredibly creative. He thinks out of the box (not that he’s ever been in one) and often contributes more to a group than expected. He’s very musical – though he prefers folk and indie over whatever his parents and siblings listen to. Sevastian is fairly able on the Ukulele (yes, you read correctly) and generally always has it with him. Sevastian also has a hobby, are a rather unusual one at that. He collects pictures of people he doesn’t know. He spends hours at markets on Sundays looking for good amongst the people. He pays maybe only a Knut for each one but every one tells a story. Each one lets him into someone’s life. He likes that bond. He likes to watch the scenes play over on faded, scratched and stained pieces of paper. He likes to observe the smiles, the grimaces and the comedy with each one. This is what sums Sevastian up. Four boxes of photographs that sit on the shelf in his dorm room – each one meaning as much as the next. He cares when no one else did. He cares about the people he sees and feels that somehow, he’s a part of their lives – even just for a little while.


    FATHER: Pavlo Krum | b. 1971 | Head of Law Department at the Russian Ministry of Magic.

    MOTHER: Natashenka Krum | b. 1978


    Andreiana Krum | b. 1998 | Married to Anton Levkov

    Nikolaus Krum | b. 1999 | Married to Apolena Krum née Fiala

    Nadjenka Krum | b. 2001 | Dating Daniel Hildridge

    Mikhail Krum | b. 2005 | Dating Emilián Marek


    Anton Levkov | b. 1998

    Apolena Krum née Fiala | b. 2000

    Daniel Hildridge | b. 2001

    Emilián Marek | b. 2004

    Elisaveta Levkov | b. 2019 | Andreiana and Anton’s daughter

    Dimitar Levkov | b. 2022 | Andreiana and Anton’s son

    Desislav Levkov | b. 2024 | Andreiana and Anton’s son

    Antonín Krum | b. 2024 | Apolena and Nikolaus’ son


    Eva Karpovich | b. 1989 (nanny)

    Ivan Tetzlaff | b. 1988 (tutor)


    Viktor Krum | b. 1977 | Head of the Family – Second Cousins once removed.

    Marina Krum | b. 1977 d. 2023 | Viktor’s consort

    Irina Krum | b. 2000 | Viktor’s consort

    Elijah Krum | b. 2005 | Krum heir – Third Cousin.

    Cecilia Krum | b. 2006 | Krum heir - Third Cousin.

    BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood despite the likelihood of there being creature blood present.

    RACE: Human.

    SOCIAL STATUS: Upper-Class.

    Lolly – Barn Owl.
    Percy – Cat.

    Russian-made broomstick.


    Early Years:
    Sevastian Luka Krum was born in Russia’s capital, Moscow, on the second of December, 2009. His parents, Natashenka and Pavlo, were both born in Russia. Both families had been living in Russia for decades. Natashenka’s family had built themselves from the ground up in Russia. Her great-great-grandfather had ended up there after falling in love with a local girl. He’d made his wealth from fishing and doing odd jobs around the village in which that woman lived. Their family was nurtured and it survived. As did the Krum family tree. Pavlo’s great –grandfather Alastor Krum was the second born – born ten years after his brother Viktor Krum I. He settled in Russia upon marrying Basia Javola and together they had three children. Pavlo’s father was Vincent Krum, the youngest of Basia and Alastor’s children. He married Antonia Benoit and they went on to have seven children – the last of whom was Pavlo. Pavlo’s marriage to Natashenka was expected – as was their amount of children. They’d already had four children by the time Sevastian arrived and although he’d been a surprise, he was not an unwanted one.

    It wasn’t long after the birth that Sevastian was handed to the woman that the couple had hired to be his caregiver. Eva Karpovich was twenty years of age by the time she got a job at the manor in Moscow. Initially she was apprehensive about taking on such a job – as was her parents – but she soon fell in love with the little boy she was given by the midwives – the little boy who she was told had mousy brown hair and dark eyes. When Sevastian came into her care, his hair colour was a bright, almost bubble-gum pink; as were his eyes. Eva’s knowledge of ‘special’ magical abilities was limited and so she did the correct thing and asked the midwives if what she was seeing was normal. As quickly as she’d been given the boy, he was whisked out of her arms again and given to the healers to check over. It took well over an hour for them to identify the source of the problem. It left Eva stood outside the room pacing but they soon emerged and returned the boy to her before promptly explaining that he was a Metamorphagus and that he was hungry.

    Sevastian grew up in the countryside, on a separate estate away from the main family. He grew up under the care of Eva and the tutelage of a young gentleman called Ivan Tetzlaff who was hired by Sevastian’s parents to teach him from as young an age as they saw fit – this meant roughly from age two and a half onwards. It was evident that Sevastian was clever from the moment the lessons began. He grasped things easily and always showed an interest to learn more. Though like other boys his age he was easily distracted by the outdoors and the prospect of adventure. It was around this time though that it became apparent how feminine Sevastian looked. Eva would go into town with him and people would comment on how beautiful her daughter looked. Sevastian would stand there, clutching hold of Eva’s hand not quite sure what to say. He had small, cute, feminine features and long white-blonde hair – the colour he’d settled on after falling into the snow the year before. Though he did not remember it clearly, Sevastian’s nanny knew the meaning and she did well to remind him about it.

    The first audience Sevastian had with his parents was after his fifth birthday – in the February. He had been invited to see them all at the house in Moscow and although Eva was apprehensive, he showed great excitement and willing to attend so there would be no feigning illness – they would go. Eva wished she hadn’t told him. Even to this day she wished she’d burned the letter and claimed she’d never received it. Though Sevastian was too young to remember, the audience with his parents did not go well. Just like the people in the village did, his siblings pointed and whispered amongst themselves, giggling and putting no effort in to hide their laughter. Though many of them shared similar features – including the boys – none of them were at quite the same extreme as Sevastian was. At first, his father assumed that he was in fact a girl. Though Eva said otherwise they took little notice and began to interrogate him as to his studies and what he did in his spare time. Sevastian answered without missing a beat, in flawless Russian, but that still did not please them.

    They were sent home with a new timetable of things to do and with them followed a new flock of teachers, each one specialising in something else. There was no room for play after that day. He was supposed to turn out like his brothers but Sevastian rejected the sport and the Quidditch that he was forced to play. He fell off of his broom more times than he cared to count and he went through more bandages than Eva would like to admit. That was before she put her foot down when he was ten years old. Five years of putting up with it and she’d finally had enough - there would be no more. Pavlo fought her on the decision for the remainder of that year, right up until September 1st when it was futile to do so. Thankfully though, Sevastian was off to Hogwarts – a strange but oddly intelligent choice made by Eva and Ivan who had suggested that he would be better suited in the calmer climbs of Hogwarts.

    Hogwarts Years:
    The Scottish school had not been the first choice for Sevastian – in fact, it had been the last. Sevastian and Eva had entered Britain a week before he left for Hogwarts and they spent their days in Diagon Alley, buying up whatever was left and whatever she deemed necessary for Sevastian to have. Then, on September 1st they set off for Kings Cross Station. It didn’t take long for them to locate the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten and soon enough, Sevastian was on Platform 9¾, face to face with the scarlet locomotive he’d been dreaming about. Eva gave him one last once over before ushering him onto the train. She made sure his robes were in order and that his wand was still in his pocket. She re-plaited his hair, ensuring that his hair would not escape from the tie, and placed his bag onto his shoulder. He was then taken over to a number of his cousins who appeared to be attending also and from there; Sevastian was whisked onto the train.

    As soon as the train pulled out of the train station, Sevastian found his self alone in the corridor. The last compartment door slammed shut and the hall fell silent as the sound from within was muted by the compartments. Sevastian wandered further up the hallway and found, much to his surprise and delight, an empty compartment. It was there that he sat, his head buried in a book, for the duration of the journey. His only discussion was with a girl from the opposite carriage when the lady with the sweeties came down to serve them. Sevastian produced a few sickles and paid for a pumpkin pasty before retreating back into his cabin. He didn’t hear the girl call after him and he failed to notice the sad look on her face when she turned away. Seemingly her hopes of befriending him had been dashed but she didn’t need to give up just yet because they met again an hour or so later when they were bobbing across the Black Lake in a dingy.


    Sevastian looked up from the murky lake water and hesitantly met the hazel eyes of the girl that had swivelled round in her seat. He friends giggled behind her and she turned to shush them once more before looking back at them. She smiled brightly at him, the mirth lighting up her entire face. Sevastian managed to stutter out a similar greeting and his eyes flicked to the girls behind that promptly began to giggle. Sevastian cleared his throat awkwardly and licked hit bottom lip before bringing his eyes back to the hazel-eyed girl who he found to be laughing with her friends. She sobered almost immediately when she realised he was looking at her and she shot her hand out towards him. Bangles jangled and glittered around her wrist and Sevastian extended his hand nervously, his pale skin looking odd against her tan pallor. She grasped his hand firmly and shook it, her laughter returning only this time in a less cruel way.

    “I’m Angela,” She introduced herself with an impish grin, making her features look more pointed and elf like.

    Sevastian returned the smile before introducing himself, “Sevastian Krum.”

    From that point on, a friendship was forged; though it wasn’t a simple one. Angela and Sevastian’s friendship was rocky at best and it ended all together in the spring of his third year when they got into an argument. It was petty – over something Sevastian doesn’t even care to remember anymore - yet it was enough to end their time together. For a long time, Angela had been his only friend. They’d been sorted into the same house and they spent an awful amount of time together. However, her friends came between them – as well as the boyfriend that she possessed at the time. They saw Sevastian as some sort of threat – one that he clearly wasn’t – and so he was gotten rid of.

    Scorned, Sevastian moved on. He found solace in the library and there he found a small group of people who looked as if they needed a sixth member of their tribe. He became far more studious than he was and spent an increasing amount of time in the library. He joined in with theological discussions and signed up for Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Sevastian became something of a scholar in the days and weeks he spent with his new-found friends – Martine, Beatrice, Ula, Theodore and Brendan. They all seemingly understood each other and Sevastian made up the last sixth of their little band. They began afterwards to converse with some of the pranksters that were looking for a new angle. Their attempts to steer the jokers back to their shops were thwarted early on and soon they found themselves designing new pranks for the pranksters to make use of.

    Sevastian’s fourth year was an interesting one. It was around this time when people began to really delve into their adolescence. Sevastian just sort of didn’t. His voice broke but it only descended a few decibels and it seemed to still retain the tinkling lilt. His jaw hardened and he seemed to grow taller but he remained as cute and as feminine as he’d been before. This attracted bullying, though. Sevastian found that he was the butt of jokes that his peers created and though it was funny at first, soon it began to really hurt. It was around October time that his cousin Elijah came to school and his presence seemed to take attention off of Sevastian and he was thankful for it. Although once the love affair with Elijah ended, Sevastian found people were crawling back into his direction – although this time it was not in a malicious way. People were asking his opinion on the silliest of things and he was being partnered

    This year, Sevastian has promised himself no silliness though nothing like that can be promised.


    YOUR NAME: Amy.


    HOW YOU FOUND US: I fell in.

    OTHER CHARACTERS: Elijah Krum, Ariel Greyback, Rafael Armstrong, Trowa Macmillan, Marcus Pattinson, Pippa Bennett, Jenifer Dent, Rob Dent, Lauren Michaels.

    PURPOSE OF CHARACTER: I wanted to make him basically – so I did.

    At least one paragraph. You can skip if you have another character

Baldric Pierson
Baldric Pierson
Gryffindor Graduate
Gryffindor Graduate

Number of posts : 656
Occupation : Autumn Lecturer at Hogwarts | Broomstick Specialist at Quality Quidditch Supplies

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KRUM, Sevastian Luka Empty Re: KRUM, Sevastian Luka

Post by Khaat Lupin Sat Jun 18, 2011 5:49 pm

I love the app and I love him. Accepted and sorted into Hufflepuff.

Khaat Lupin
Khaat Lupin
Gryffindor Graduate
Gryffindor Graduate

Number of posts : 19058
Special Abilities : Energy Worker, Medium, Heightened Sensitivity
Occupation : Director of St. Mungos, Owner of Sparks Bistro

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