Lyov pushed the bit of tobacco in his lip over to the side as he eyed the bush he was currently watering. A quick laugh escaped him before he glanced over his shoulder at his mates. “Keep an eye out.” He pushed up on to his toes, bouncing a little before his eyes came back to what he was doing; there was no need to dribble on his trousers or shoes. Conversation continued amongst the two guys behind him, useless garble that allowed him the solace to finish what he had started.

He shook it out before he put himself back together again, turning around and bouncing his eyebrows in expectation. It was his turn, after all. He spit a bit out, his tongue pushing it down a little further, packing it in a bit harder. It wasn’t his favorite thing to do, but it beat sitting around the boring grand hall.

The dare from his mate caused him a moment of quietness before a grin slipped over his face. He responded his agreement to the task, though the tone of his voice gave away that he thought it was too easy. A finger dipped into his mouth and pulled out the hunk of tobacco, tossing it aside into the bushes (he was just offering all sorts of mulch and watering to the Hogwarts grounds!) before stepping forward and leaning on the door frame, just inside of it.

When the younger girl stepped through, he was there to catch her off guard. His Russian accent punctuated the air. “Watch out behind you!” His face morphed into shock before she looked away, smirking when she did. Oh, Hogwarts, how little you prepare the children. He dipped down and held the back of her head with a hand, kissing her briefly and a little roughly on the lips before pulling back, quick to back pedal in case a hand came up to swat at him. The laughter of his mates filtered through. “Guten morgen.”

To say that this morning was not perfect would be a drastic understatement.  Jordyn was rushing to and fro, trying to get her latest round of assignments done, as well as make sure that she was back in the great hall for lunch with Neely and Bran.  After Valentine’s Day and the whole Neelian reunion it was making time for the three of them. 

So, she had to go to the library, but she also needed to go outside and collect some herbs for the medicinal magic seminar that she had signed up for with the American professor.  If she ever expected to catch up on what she’d missed by neglecting to take herbology for the past several years, she needed to go out and take care of that straight away.  With her bag strapped across her chest, she rushed out of the entryway and was making her way toward the gardens. 

It wasn’t a horribly bad day out, overcast and brisk, but Jordyn could deal with it – she’d been in the hot houses soon enough.  Her list was tucked away in the bag too and Jordyn was surprised when she was about to dash through the archway and someone shouted to look out behind her and Jordyn tripped over her feet as she stumbled forward, looking over her shoulder. 

“Oh!” she breathed in a high pitched yelp before she felt a hand in her hair and a sudden and unexpected kiss against her lips.  Her hands balled into fists and Jordyn instinctively pulled back, a surprised and horrified sort of look on her face as she did, ready to smack someone.  “Excuse me?” she sneered, still taking that step back and looked at the other laughing boys: what sort of game was this?!

Lyov’s face took on as innocent of one as he could muster, pursing his lips to the side as he stood up straighter. One hand founds its way into his trouser pocket while the other tapped his chin in thought, nodding a little. The chuckling and chortling behind him continued, but for now... the Oberteil could hold off. He could focus his energy on the perplexed and angry young woman in front of him.

Maybe if she smiled more, she would be more attractive. “Good... Morning...” It was drawn out in his accent, slowly, so she would understand. A grin split his face, his somewhat crooked and stained teeth showing before he closed his lips together in a smaller smile. “The sun is shining-” Sort of, “-birds chirping-” just not near that whomping willow, “-and... those are very strong earrings. They make a statement. Is that the proper word? Strong?"

His fist came up in the air and shook a little to add weight to his comments. Lyov glanced over his shoulder at his mates and made a little cock of his head; they got the hint and made their way away. He turned back to the girl and raised an eyebrow, careful of his distance now. Hands clasped lightly in front of him. “What year are you in?” They weren’t all wearing nametags, after all; if he was going to brag about catching some Hogwarts student off guard, he wanted to know the name to spread around.

Plus, if she was too young... he’d have to move on and not tease her too terribly. No use in getting in trouble while on their best behavior at the Tournament. His hand pulled out his wand and twirled it between his fingers absentmindedly. Or perhaps he could still have some fun... His head tilted as he assessed her face. Definitely an easy target.

Foreigners.  If they weren’t up and breaking Jordyn’s heart they were certainly making her angry.  It was as though every single one she encountered fell on either side of the spectrum!  There were precious few who left her without one of the strong impressions. 

This was rapidly turning into one of those annoyances that she’d scoff at in class.  She thought she might have recognized him from some of their classes, but then again for some reason, they all look the same to her, particularly the ones who leaned on doorways and tried to smile their way out of ridiculous things.  How many crazy visitors were going to kiss her while they were here? 

She wasn’t sure she was in this for a conversation, however.  “Strong is appropriate,” she answered in a clipped voice, realizing she’d worn the skull earrings.  Reaching up, she tugged at one and couldn’t help herself:  “Charmed from my latest victim.” That was certainly appropriate for the occasion.  It almost didn’t matter that she sort of enjoyed the choppy roughness of his accent, she was perturbed enough to ignore that fact. 

Crossing her arms under her chest, unsure of what to actually do with them in absence of smacking him,  Jordyn frowned a little bit, wondering just what he was after and why he’d send his little cronies away.  “I’m a sixth year,” she lifted her chin and looked at him with scrutiny while she tapped her foot, “You?”

Oh, he’d gone and upset the Hogwarts students. If it wasn’t so cliche that they all got ruffled over the littlest things, he would roll his eyes and write it down to share with his fellow classmates. “Thank you.” Lyov could not hold back the laugh that slipped out, however, at her ridiculous bluff about her earrings. He reached forward and tugged very lightly on them, thumb and finger grasping her ear lobe as he turned it one way and then another, quickly withdrawing before he shrugged.

“Do you pick on first years?” That seemed the most likely victim. Unless she was hiding her true nature up her sleeve. Usually he was pretty good at judging books by their covers. As if he couldn’t even believe it, he tsked and shook his head slowly. “Or maybe you hex the girls when they’re not looking...” His finger tapped the side of his nose as he narrowed his eyes at her, stepping to her right, a wide, slow circle around her, scrutinizing her like he would a new spell or obstacle.

He didn’t miss what happened when her arms crossed over her chest. A small smirk slipped across his lips before he put it away. That was something, anyway. Sixth year was do-able. Once he made his way all around, he put his weight on his back leg and crossed his own arms over his chest, fingers lightly drumming his chin as he thought. “Oberteil-” Obviously. “Seventh year.” As much as he would have preferred to stay at Durmstrang for his last year, there was something... invigorating about competing in the Tournament.

Finally he shrugged, as if he came to a conclusion in his head, turning on his heel (his back to her) and stalking away. Finding the closest bench, he lounged across it, stretching out. “Come on over, Sixth Year. Perhaps we can help each other.” His arm propped under his head as he smirked, lifting his head however slightly so he could eye her from his vantage point.

Jordyn wasn’t particularly sure how she felt about someone tugging on her earrings who was not her.  Her mouth opened a little bit to protest but she had to use her energy to avoid squirming when his thumb rubbed against her ear.  Her mouth clamped shut and she stood resolutely still as he took his hand away – thankfully.  She felt her ears getting hot. 

Raising her eyebrows at his following question, Jordyn snorted.  “Not likely,” she informed him, "They don't get close enough to irritate me."  She was not sure she liked the way he was looking at her in the way he was.  She wasn’t a task in the tournament or something!  She didn’t need to be evaluated like that.

After all, it wasn’t her who had approached him!  She didn’t let him get too far around her without turning with him – obviously not desiring to let him out of her sight again.  His explanation of who he was – at least on a year and status point informed her a little bit about why he felt like he could walk in archways and size people up in circles, like some sort of farm animal! 

Taking a deep breath, she tried not to look as irritated as she felt – some of the residual be a good host speech from her prefect meetings at the beginning of the year hanging with her.  If she had any hope of being head girl she wouldn’t alienate guests, even if they completely deserved it, especially as he walked away. 

Her head pulled back a little, her eyebrows drawing inward with confusion – particularly as he made a lounging space out of a rather cold looking bench.  She supposed he must have been used to cold things: goodness knew with the atmosphere and personalities of his classmates.  Him too, for the record.  “Help each other?” she puzzled out loud, not moving from her spot, “with what?”

Her attempt at a tough exterior could use work. He chuckled half heartedly as he looked her over, pushing his lips to the other side as he tapped them with his finger. “I’m sure you’re very feisty during that time of the month.” He took in a breath and held it before shrugging and letting it out noisily; as if whatever she had to say on the matter was no matter. Lyov knew women could become viscous animals when their hormones went haywire.

Some were just more bite than bark in that department, and were a bigger threat. Like Mags, for example. He liked that she had a lot of fight in her. This one was like an injured dog; she snarled when you got too close, but otherwise wanted to tend to her wounds when not bothered. Not that dogs and females were an appropriate medium to correlate, it just happened to fit in his head. It wasn’t as if he could do a proper research project on it.

Lyov was only slightly miffed that she didn’t know him as a champion. He must have looked taller in the stands.

Her question was left in the chilly air for a few moments while he smirked. It was too easy. “I have a bet to win. And you look like you need to learn to not be so readable all the time.” Without further ado, Lyov sat straight up, one leg resting comfortably on the bench while the other planted firmly on the ground. Once he was comfortably, he waved his wand in the air and pointed it in her direction. “Legilimens!” It was spoken softly, but he concentrated completely on her. If anything, it was more to sharpen his skill and remind her she wasn’t as all-powerful as she thought.

And perhaps she would realize that she could actually gain something from Lyov. He knew that. It was very difficult to actually make sense of what he found, even the little snippets he was able to recall once the spell was broken. The exercises he had to do to sharpen the skill were dull and repetitive; it was much more fun to focus on a live, unknowing subject. One that wouldn’t hex him straight away for trying.

Jordyn’s draw could not have dropped farther if she tried.  Not only had this young man who Jordyn didn’t even know grab her out of nowhere, now he was insinuating things about her time of the month!  Oh she might have killed him if she could.  Reaching toward her bag she longed to just pull out her wand and… hex the cheekbones right out of him.  “I resent that,” she huffed, aggravated and dropping her hand.

She could not hex the visitors, she reminded herself, and let out a deep breath – unsure of adding anything else to what she was going to say.  She felt like any comments she had rumbling around her head were not going to really get him where she wanted him for this conversation. 

Instead, she was still reeling and the addition of being part of a bet.  “I don’t think so,” Jordyn frowned, and readjusted the strap on her shoulder in order to prepare to walk away.  Really, she just wanted to get back to her original plans, meet her friends for lunch, and stop being accosted by foreign students who were presumptuous enough to think she would care for their attention.  It was just getting totally insane. 

Shaking her head, she didn’t want him in her brain and Jordyn frowned.  “Stop that,” she frowned at him, stomping a few steps away.  “Don’t you at least have to have someone’s permission before you go and try to invade their privacy?  Goodness do they teach you no manners in…” she waved her hand, flustered, “wherever you’re from!”

“Obviously not,” another voice supplied, light and lilting and full of good cheer. “Лови!”




When Gracie had entered the courtyard, she had– well, she hadn’t been sure what she was going to do, but she’d had more than inkling that it would involve resting. Napping. Between assignments and tests and late-night trips doing… whatever needed doing –the busy Slytherin had found herself at odds when it came to catching some decent rest. Unlike a great many of her classmates, the day didn’t end for her at dinner, and she was tired, dammit! Cranky! Forget hexing, she was going to straight up scratch someone if she didn’t–

Jordyn, her sleepy brain helpfully supplied as laughter and outrage caught her ear. With… company, it seemed.

As the situation sank in, so did Gracie’s brows, furrowing from confusion to… something. Anger, yeah.

(God, she was sleepy.)

But sleepy as she was, this was just– no. Not okay. And so she’d snuck up on them—not stealthily, perhaps, in the traditional sense, but in a way that could be misconstrued as such; with a bland expression and a nonchalant swagger, the Slytherin had swiftly circled the courtyard, nodding and grinning (and occasionally wiggling her fingers) at familiar faces here and there, until it brought her ‘round to Lyov’s bench and his indolent, cretinous form. By then she had a bag full of rocks she’d wrapped up in someone else’s sweater, and was rather keen to relieve herself of her joy burden. The Durmstranger was as good a place as any, she’d decided as Jordyn’s irritation carried through the air.

Perfect, even.

“Hi Jordy,” she beamed across the bench, head cocked coyly to the side as she flipped a lock of hair over a shoulder– one of the few she’d purposefully teased from the confines of her turquoise chignon. The result was something pretty and delicate, of that she was certain, and completely at the odds with the brutish thing she’d just done.

Though, as Gracie directed her gaze onto the Oberteil, it was suddenly less so, even as that impossibly brilliant smile grew impossibly brighter. Green eyes trained onto Lyov like laser beams. “Ah, shit,” she clucked her tongue regretfully, tone saccharine sweet. The other Durmstrangen might as well have been grass. “Didn’t see you there.”

She had just about enough of cretins planting ones on her friends like they had a right to, thank you.

Lyov was slightly confused; why did she resent that? “Why? Do girls not like the truth in England?” Was it not common knowledge that women were difficult to contend with when their hormones went crazy? The poor young men of Hogwarts if they couldn’t put two and two together. Honestly, if she wanted to pretend that puberty never happened, it was no skin off Lyov’s back. He shrugged half heartedly; it really did not matter to him.

Anatomy was important to a point. Or maybe not at Hogwarts.

She was messing with his concentration; he frowned and focused harder, attempting to will her to stay put. The younger students put up with it at Durmstrang, to a degree. There was a point that the Dregs or Zufrieden only took so much; it was one of those things that helped boost students to the rank of Oberteil, after all. It was a true testament to life, however, that some people were meant for greatness, and some were meant to follow and be cowed. “It’s about trying to become the best. Does Hogw-”

Lyov was still trying to figure out the little sixth year in front of him. The familiar language caused him to start to pause; when the drop of weight landed on his gut, his diaphragm gave out and he startled as his breath was knocked from him. His body came together instinctively, as if attempting to protect the area would stop the pain and anguish already caused. Rollie-pollies did not fair well.

A groan escaped him as eyes rolled back into his head, pushing whatever-the-hell was on his stomach off. As it landed with a thud on the ground beside the bench, he let out a string of curses in Russian, catching his breath as he struggled to finally sit up. Moody eyes took in the girl, narrowing as he looked her over. They were stormy and dangerous; only the subtle reminder at the back of his mind kept his wand hand from reacting. This wasn't Durmstrang...

Her eyes were piercing, and he paused as he caught them, lips pursing tightly as his jaw clenched. He gave her a very small smirk as he piped off with a rather friendly adjective for the newcomer, shifting so he was sitting up comfortably on the bench, one leg drawn in.

“I almost missed you. You don’t like to be forgotten, I see.” Lyov twirled his wand and glanced from one girl to the next before finally crossing his leg over the other. His arm casually relaxed over the back of the bench. Fingers lifted in her general direction, as if it was almost too much effort. “Friend of yours?” The question was directed to the first girl he had bothered. “Oiy!” He made a motion of his hand at the new girl. “Does that thing hurt?” He made a motion to his neck, pointing out the slithering tentacle. “Do you feel it move?”

Clearly he hadn’t given the time of day to enough Slytherins if he didn’t think that Hogwarts had a segment of people who believed in being the best.  Sure, Jordyn’s ambitions weren’t for something as silly as a tournament – but that wasn’t all there was to being the best.  “You’re only going to be the best at being –“ she had started to talk over him, agitated and her voice raising just a hair over its already normally high pitch when she saw something she did not expect.

Really, she hadn’t expected to see Gracie, but even less than that she expected to see something falling into the Drumstrang student’s lap. 

Then, on that note, Jordyn’s entire perspective changed.  She was now horrified that she’d get in trouble for being a graceless hostess and someone would inform the head mistress and then that was going to turn into a series of unfortunate detentions.  Her mind started racing with the horror that was this whole thin, but then again, there was Gracie looking smug and greeting her and that was also appealing.

What a time to have blossoming anxiety! 

Biting on the inside of her lip, she wondered how Gracie and the Durmstrang boy had met – since it appeared that they were familiar, at least by the boy’s greeting, but then again, she didn’t know and that didn’t particularly matter.

Her brown eyes flicked back and forth from Gracie to the boy and then nodded, sort of stunned.  “Hello, Gracie,” she licked her lips and squared her shoulders, tilting her head to the side with big eyes.  What are you thinking?” her eyes seemed to say – even if there was a sort of undercurrent of thank you also dancing in there. 

The litany of swears… Ever so slightly eyes narrowed at Lyov’s greeting, flinty with dislike, and the smile thinned into a smug curve; the look he’d given her wasn’t an unfamiliar one, and was nearly as satisfying as the one that had been on his face just seconds before. Yeah, this wasn’t Durmstrang.

But she’d give him points, maybe, for the posturing.

The brow she lifted was condescending. He had stupid eyes, she decided– pretty, but obviously useless. “It totally burns,” said Gracie, deadpan, as she moved down to the other end of the bench. Resting her hip against it, she rolled her eyes, “it’s a tattoo, what do you think,” and dragged her stare towards Jordyn, carrying with it a strong sense of is this guy for real? The tattoo, on its part, stretched and curled, flexing-like, over its patch of creamy skin not unlike a fist. “Is this guy bothering you?” she drawled, and she looked back at Lyov, expression fixing itself into that hard, terrible smile again. “I would’ve thought you lot had better things to do.”

On top of the sneering and judging, of course, in those glorious uniforms of theirs. Frankly, Gracie preferred the black and gold combination herself. While a few of them had been polite for politeness’ sake, there were still some who had been sincere, even sweet when she’d let them.

Their apparent superiors, on the other hand… Not so much.

Moody or not, the Hogwarts student at least had a bit of fight in her. He wondered which house she might be in. The Slytherin’s weren’t terrible... They seemed to have some gumption to them, at least. Lyov might have wondered, briefly, how Hufflepuffs even made it into the Wizarding community. There were needs for janitors and secretaries, he supposed.

They had been required to learn about Hogwarts, after all. It was the host school. The whole sorting hat thing seemed... as if it had a lot of potential for error. What do eleven year olds really know about what they might grow into? At least at Durmstrang you had to earn your place. If you weren’t up to snuff, then there was a place for you. And it tended to be the foot stool for the better students.

It was a difficult education, but it made them strong.

Gracie. Lyov’s eyes narrowed as he assessed the newcomer. He had a name to go with the cute little pinched face. “I know it’s a tattoo. The question was whether it hurts and if you can feel it move.” He muttered a couple of things under his breath in Russian. He smirked at the girl’s inquiry as to whether he was bothering the other student or not. “I probably am bothering her.” A laugh escaped him before he crossed his leg over the other, shrugging. “I do have other things to do. Maybe I wanted new sport.”

Lyov merely shrugged and rested a hand on his knee, foot kicking out apathetically. “Are you her protector then, Gracie?” His head tilted in question, his wand still held in his other hand that was now resting over the back of the bench, twirling slowly between his fingers. “Or is that just a girl thing?” He was ever curious about the ways of women. If it came out patronizing, it was due to his upbringing.

Oh Godric, Jordyn was okay when she was the one throwing sarcasm about, but when people were doing it around her it suddenly felt like she was awkwardly sitting with a cup of tea in her living room while her parents danced around passive aggressive comments at one another for an hour after dinner before she could excuse herself

When Gracie turned to her and asked her if he was bothering her it definitely felt like one of those nights.  Instead of being asked how nice it would  be to go on holiday with the understanding that was never going to happen.  Her jaw tightened before she let a breath out of her nose and frowned.  “A bit,” she glanced at him, noticing the look on his face and changed her answer, “Yes.” 

At least he understood that he was annoying, and that he bothered her – the only thing that would have made that okay was if he seemed to care that he was bothering her.  That fact seemed to be totally missing from this equation. 

But then another complicating frustration entered the picture.  She’d originally been mad at being bothered with things to do.  Now… she was mad that she was being accused of not being able to take care of own issues. Plus, there was the inherent sexism of his comment combined with the haughty way in which he asked – as though friendship and help were only feminine traits! 

Adjusting the strap of her bag and putting her hands on the swells of her hips Jordyn frowned.  “You don’t need to be so rude,” she informed him.  “She was just being helpful.  It’s what friends do,” she wrinkled her nose, tempted to point out he’d know if he had any, but held her tongue, hoping her tone said enough.

Gracie lifted both brows then, genuinely amazed (maybe even impressed, because wow) that he’d gone there with not a trace of bluff in sight. It took a very special kind of attitude to carry that kind of certainty, and it wasn’t one commonly found in the castle– for good reason.

But Jordyn wasn’t looking all that comfortable anymore, when Gracie glanced back at her, and so she heaved a sigh; she had never been quite as concerned about being a good host as her housemate was, and being faced with an ungracious guest made her even less so. Rude guests, she’d been taught, were to be kicked out—not treated as someone to cling to manners for. Still, for Jordyn she could try, she supposed. “We do have a quidditch field,” she informed him, arching a brow as though any blindness on his part wouldn’t surprise her. Which, honestly, it wouldn’t. “But if that’s too dull for you…”

She shot Lyov a winning smile. “Our dueling club could always use new dummies to practice on. быть полезно или убирайтесь, right?”

…okay, fine, that didn’t last long. But then, she was tired. Effort was for those who cared weren’t.

As though on cue, Gracie yawned. She did what she could to smother it with the back of her hand.