Rated M for sexual content and language.

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None of the Oberteils had slept well the night before. And nor, by extension, had the other strata.

The cheated champions had huddled in their usual corner of the makeshift Durmstrang common room, sharing heated words in Russian and German, barely comforted by the charmed fireplace that threw off a blue chill. They had taken turns hitting a target board attached to the back of the door, the occasional Zufrieden mistakenly wandering in. Well before midnight, the vodka had made its appearance, the collective party of northern and eastern students swearing injustice and vengeance. If the anger had been numbed into something like storm clouds laying in wait, a few hours later, it was temporary. They eventually drifted off in smaller groups for a rough night that fresh, soft sheets could do little to temper.

Breakfast had been worse, a late confrontation with gloating Americans. And somehow the other schools, seemed worthy of blame. Hogwarts, their host, for a myriad of reason, and Beauxbatons perhaps in a more personal way. If this was not the primary reason the blonde Dane and her dark-haired companion had found their way to that tower at the top of the school, it had certainly been on Magda’s mind when they had hexed a pair of French students and bypassed them through the porthole.

The airy, light interior was insufferable, too empty, too open. Magdalena had quickly pointed to a set of door, letting Lyov lead the way. They had not been gentle with the randomly chosen dormitory door. And had few plans to be with the the furniture beyond.

Barring it with a wave and a whisper, Magda turned toward the Russian, letting her wrist fall to her side, wand seemingly dormant. She took a few steps closer before reaching out with her free hand, dragging him by the end of his shirt toward a perfectly made, cloyingly periwinkle bed, her eyes on Lyov the entire time.

She sank into the mattress, making herself right at home at its edge, as if its usual occupant had invited her. Finally, she let go of his shirt and glanced around, appraising the pretty room with unimpressed blue eyes. “Of course they would give them those windows.” They would just have to put them to proper use.

She looked up at him somewhat needily before glancing toward the nightstand, which offered a few more clues about the bed’s owner. The neat stack of books annoyed her, somehow. They rested between a dainty glass vase of daisies and a bright blue alarm clock whose loud tick deserved an early death. A wave of her wand sent the spring-ish set-up sweeping onto the floor. Magda’s gaze settled on Lyov again, just as the glass shattered lightly beyond her view. Her wand hand finally relaxed completely, and when she lifted it again, it was without the wood. “Are you ready to prove you lost?” She asked, testing him by putting it in those terms. Her fingers crawled up to the  back of his palm. “I know you’re a maiden, but don’t be scared, Lyov.”