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 Homecoming, Tag: Stells <3
Arina Drozdova
❄ Ice Princess ❄
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Age 15
Year 5th
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Dec 6 2017, 03:40 AM   Link Quote
The sorting ceremony had been completely humiliating. The great hall had fallen deathly quiet, and every eye in the room fixated on her. Normally, Arina would have welcomed the attention, but given the circumstances surrounding her transferral, she was in no mood to for drama or theatrics. It was a rather unusual change of pace for her really. She’d spent the entire thirty seconds it had taken to sort her staring down at her perfectly manicured nails- which she’d rather aptly sharpened to a point. Of course she belonged in Slytherin, her ambition and cunning almost ensured it.

Through the sea of eyes, she’d been able to locate those of her brothers; they were somehow both softer and brighter than the rest. She wondered how much her father had told him about the events that had transpired over the past few weeks. Though she was certain he knew enough to satisfy his curiosity, she was still bursting to fill him in on the specifics. She’d been able to focus on nothing else since the event- it occupied her every waking thought. It’d all hit a little too close to home, even if the Aurors had completely missed the mark with their questioning. All that mattered is that they knew something; their father was on their radar now. The thought alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

The feast was followed by an entire day of menial classes. Though the girl recognised a few of her classmates, and gracefully greeted them as necessary, she spent the majority of her day killing time, counting down the hours until she could meet with her brother. Somehow, watching the clock seemed to make time move slower… as if she were trudging through cement, or navigating her way through a haze. Everything was moving at snails pace.

By the time Arina found her way to the common room at the end of the day, she was spent. Her body ached, and her usually upbeat demeanour had begun to falter- her true, sour intentions were beginning to seep through. With a creased brow and aching bones, she collapsed onto the questionably designed sofa- somehow maintaining perfect posture and poise. Sighing, she looked down at her nails once again. She’d chipped them. God, what a perfect end to a perfect day. It seemed her time at Hogwarts was already off to a horrific start.

Running the tip of her wand across her fingertips, she whispered a correction spell beneath her breath. While the girl had many spells committed to memory, concealment charms and correction spells were certainly among her favourites. Anything that helped her maintain appearances whilst also saving her energy was more than appreciated. For, while she might’ve been graced with natural beauty and grace, a clean cut image was something she still worked to maintain. It took an unhealthy amount of patience to paint on her face in the morning, and lay out outfits in the evening. Some might’ve even called it a talent. Although by this point, the Drozdov girls could do it in their sleep- they had been conditioned from a young age to play the part of perfect pureblood ladies.

Looking up from her nails, a genuine smile graced the young witch’s lips. It was an uncommon but welcome surprise- her smiles were usually forced. “Grisha!” she squealed, relief and excitement thick on her tongue. After such a long, strenuous day, she couldn’t have been happier to make her brothers company.

@Grigoriy Drozdov
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Grigoriy Drozdov
Real Russians have no proverbs, we have Vodka and misery
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Dec 18 2017, 03:41 AM   Link Quote
He had missed them.

Perhaps he would never put those feelings to words and admit it, but the fact was that he had actually missed them. It was the hardest thing about being at Hogwarts; them not being there, not seeing them everyday when having breakfast, not running into them at corridors, not having them go to him whenever they needed his help or simply for the sake of conversation. Most of them had been there almost every single day of his life before his transfer, and not seeing them for weeks had left the Russian boy with a void he had never imagined experiencing. It was silly, he knew as much, because spending his life without seeing them often was something inevitable, but throughout his childhood all he had ever done was be there for them - play by their side and look out for them. They were his family, more than anyone else who held the Drozdov name and carried their blood, almost even more than their own father. They were his sisters, and as much as he had wanted to see them… learning about their transfer, reading their letters regarding the questions of the Aurors and even seeing them at the castle had been upsetting.

Were they worried? Did they miss Koldovstoretz? Did they want to go back home? Did they like their family’s Scottish mansion which he had not even visited yet? What had the Aurors said? One too many questions crossed his mind as he sat at the Great Hall, watching as the girls were called one by one, the explanatory words written in his father’s letter filling his thoughts as the Sorting Hat was placed onto the blonde hair of his sisters, calling the houses to which they had been assigned. No matter how he looked at it, that was humiliating and unnecessary, making glad that his own sorting had occured within the Headmistress’ office and not in front of every single student. He knew most of the girls would not complain, he knew they would keep their composure and act unfazed despite all the eyes set on them, yet he could not help but feel upset, barely even bothering to answer the questions those sitting close to him asked about the girls. A few of them had been sorted into Slytherin, and that was not a surprising thing at all, but somehow it had still caused an inexplicable pride to rise up - one perhaps caused by the knowledge of how much him and his sisters were alike. Those were the thoughts that crossed his mind as his gaze met that of Arina, immediately wishing he could have gone there, immediately wishing he could have asked about the events that transpired back at their former school back in Russia. Too bad it was not yet time for that.

The problem was that Grisha was not a patient person, that he wasn’t just going to sit around in class as hours passed by. He had questions and concerns, both things that demanded answers and which could no longer wait more than what they already had. So, he asked, convincing a couple of the older girls - those close to his age and who had classes with him - to skip a couple of classes in favour of catching up. It was easy, as they all had the same thing in mind, stories being told about the visit of the Aurors to Koldovstoretz and all the questions they had asked to his sisters. Why had they asked questions to his sisters? Why hadn’t their father done anything to prevent that? In his mind, he knew it was more convincing for the Aurors to receive good testimonies from the children of the Drozdov family, as they were unaware that all of them had been taught to lie about such things ever since they had been young, but did their father really need to put the girls under such risk? Even the younger ones? It all seemed unnecessary from Grisha’s perspective, and it also made him all too conscious of how his sisters were probably feeling.

That was the problem with having people he truly cared about; they swayed his emotions, they filled him with concern, they made him want to see them smile. Of all the people in the world, it had always been his sisters that earned such a right, and it almost made him feel stupid as he walked down the corridors towards the dungeons, a sigh escaping him because truthfully, as much as he has missed them, having them be back at Koldovstoretz had been less concerning than seeing them at that place. Then again, it was admittedly better than if they had transferred to Dumstrang like their cousin, or returned to the Drozdov estate like the others, all of them divided because of the actions of some Aurors and their missguided investigations. It gave him a headache, one that made him rub his temples as he pronounced the Slytherin Common Room’s password. Yet, the moment he stepped into that humid underground place, the moment his moonlit gaze set on one of his younger sisters, a lot of it was washed away, one of those rare faint and genuine smiles tugging to his lips as he heard the nickname being pronounced excitedly. “Vorona,” he greeted in return, utilizing the word by which their father affectionately called Arina. He did not ask if she liked the school, or if she had had a good day, for those answers seemed all too obvious at those moments, instead sitting close to the girl and looking at her.

"I know, it's rather terrible, and it only gets worse with the more you see....Rinka, are you doing alright?" Grisha asked instead, addressing the girl by yet another one of those seemly countless names.

@Arina Drozdova

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