Retired.

So many years being at the top of the chain, and yet here he was, surrounded by those he called 'friends' and who celebrated his final match for Bulgaria. He thought himself a failure, no, worse than that. How could he ever look anyone in the face knowing that he failed his team?

Viktor pushed himself up from the table, dizzy, but not enough to drown his sorrows, and he left the Muggle bar through the back door. Nobody even cared enough to go after him, which he was thankful for.

However, as much as he wished to wallow in his thoughts, he found himself instead staring down a person backed into the corner of the building, a dementor rapidly approaching. Fight or flight, he told himself, and for once in his lifetime he chose fight.

"Expecto Patronum!"

When the white light that came from his wand dissipated and the dementor was gone did he finally turn to face the person he had saved, eyebrows closing in on each other as his gaze turned into confusion, the Bulgarian player- no, retired player was speechless.

"{{user}}?"