With the capture of Verandi Farley and several high-ranking Trossach members, the British wizarding world has finally caught a break. The rate of rogue werewolf attacks have started dropping at a steady rate and, hopefully, things will stay that way. The Ministry is starting to loosen some restrictions, like not arresting werewolves standing on the street for loitering, however there’s still an obvious power imbalance between wizardfolk and werewolves.
The Cotswolds pack are continuing to advocate for the rights of werewolves and petitioning to change the legislation that has been set in motion by the current Minister for Magic, whilst the remaining Trossachs members are trying to stay out of the spotlight and keep a low profile… for now.
Whilst the British wizarding world seems to have calmed down, the same cannot be said for over in Northern Europe where a rebellion of magical creatures has risen. The state of things has gotten so bad that the European Ministry has enacted protocols to protect those under eighteen whilst their adult witches and wizards fight to keep control of their countries.
Students from Durmstrang have been sent to Hogwarts to keep them safe and those not old enough to attend school have been sent to live with relatives or designated British Ministry officials outside of Europe for the time being.
Will the low rates of werewolf attacks in Britain continue? How long will Durmstrang students stay at Hogwarts? Will the creatures usurp the wizardfolk in Northern Europe? Only time will tell.
SEPTEMBER 2019 It's been a very long, eventful summer in the wizarding world. A baby was stolen, several high ranking Trossach members were imprisoned, and werewolf attacks have drastically dropped as a result. What will happen now school has returned?
MAY 2019 An attempt to capture the beta of the Trossachs has been launched. Were the Aurors successful in their mission? Go read more here!
The text in the white is a bit of a pun, because if you put the emphasis on the second word in a different place, instead of "Torture" it means "flour".
...Nobody here understands russian.
The Muggle Studies lesson was finally over. Askold had enjoyed it a lot, seeing the joy in the student's eyes was wonderful, but this was his first time in the role of a teacher and he was exhausted. His respect for teacher's had grown tenfold in the last few hours and it was never as easy as some of them made it look.
He watched the students pour out of the classroom from the very back of it, leaning against one of the stoves, his cream colored sweater still sporting a large flour stain on the stomach. He wasn't sure how it had gotten there -- he had been wearing an apron! Then again, it happened every single time and Askold had long since stopped trying to figure out why there was a perpetual mess surrounding him at all times. The man was almost sure there was a spot of flour on his nose, but he didn't want to interrupt Zoe by turning on the sink. His mind was set on more important things than how he looked.
He was sure that at least a few of these students needed someone to talk to. Grace Longbottom, for one, was in Askold's sights, and there was no way she was the only one affected by the events. He just... Really wanted to give every single kid a hug, or to make them smile. But he was a stranger to them.
Zoe had invited him to stay after class, no doubt to discuss how the class had went, and if it turned out that the baker hadn't embarrassed her, perhaps another class would be arranged? Maybe she would have ideas on what else he could do to help the students through these turbulent times without coming off as a creepy adult who likes to loiter around the school, offering pastries.
The class had gone as well as could be expected; better than poor Professor O’Connor’s on any given day actually. Zoe always enjoyed hands-on activities with kids; it was a nice change of pace from the theoretical work of having to explain the function of a rubber duck to purebloods. The cutie-pie baker had held his own during the class and Zoe was only too happy to see the back of the last student. ”Are you sure you’re not a teacher, Askold?” Zoe asked, amusement curling her lips into an easy smile as she watched the young man. ”In the muggle schools they teach ’home economics’ - well, back in Australia anyways - I think you’d do great teaching something like that.”
Zoe’s heels clicked on the stone floor as she moved across the classroom, charming the various cleaned implements into a box for storage. Happily, her route ended with her standing within arm’s reach of her guest. ”Oh, you’ve got a little bit of -“ Zoe reached a soft hand towards Askold’s nose, ”flour, on your nose.” If he didn’t back away, she’d gently assist with the clearing of it.
The text in the white is a bit of a pun, because if you put the emphasis on the second word in a different place, instead of "Torture" it means "flour".
...Nobody here understands russian.
When all the students left, Zoe started cleaning up the classroom. Askold's gaze followed her as he fiddled with his sweater. On the one hand, he felt a bit uneasy - she was cleaning everything up and he was just standing there like a piece of furniture. On the other hand, she was using her wand... So he stood there, his face turning red when the professor complimented his teaching skills.
"I, uh," he patted down his sweater, making a cloud of flour rise up from his stomach, "I've never really taught. I just like to help people, that's all. And I love baking."
Sooner than he knew it, Zoe was standing right in front of him, pointing out that there was, indeed, flour on his nose. Her fingertip was hovering right over his nose and for a moment he stared right at it, his brown eyes going criss- cross. He blinked rapidly - it hurt!
"Ah, as always." his eyes moved down, staring at his feet and his fingertips grabbed the edge of his sweater. "I always end up surrounded by a mess... I don't really know how it happens. Even with the apron!" he tugged his sweater and another puff of flour fell to the floor.
Zoe -- Professor Savage -- was standing so close to him, and Askold couldn't help but to take a close look at the woman. He caught himself thinking that she was very beautiful, and it made his cheeks heat up -- they were colleagues now, don't make this unprofessional, Panin!
"You said you're from Australia, yes? What..." he started, leaning back ever so slightly, "What brings you all the way to Hogwarts?"
The stumbling over words in reply to Zoe was a good sign. Poor boys didn't really stand a chance with a witch that knew her real charms were not magical, but biological. The professor nodded her head gently, her luscious chocolate locks rippling over her shoulders with the movement. "Ahh, that's the best quality to have in a teacher, the desire to help people. Honestly, any other reason pales in comparison," Zoe said cheerfully; the most successful of her colleagues in her ... half dozen years in the profession ... had all been in it to help children and young adults. It certainly wasn't one for a person that sought fame or fortune and it was often a thankless task. "I wonder then... do you give private baking lessons?" Zoe asked innocently, her bright blue eyes glancing briefly into those of her guest before putting the final box away in the cupboard.
With her finger almost on Askold's nose, Zoe had expected one of two things to happen: he would back away or let her gently wipe it away for him. Instead, he went cross-eyed and the lady let out a surprised chuckle. "Aw and here I thought it was a happy 'accident' just for me," Zoe joked, moving her finger expertly to touch the tip of his nose before hooking her hair behind her ear in one swift movement. "You know, I never knew an apron could look so... good on a man," Zoe's cheek dimples were clearly visible as a smile crept over her face, her eyes dropping as his did to where he fiddled with his sweater. "I'm happy to help get you clean?" Zoe purposefully allowed a moment to pass before she continued, "by showing you to the bathroom."
"Haha yes I'm a fair-dinkum Aussie - has my accent already started to fade in this past six months? Next I'll be speaking like Her Royal Highness," Zoe moved to sit on the desk in front of Askold, daintily folding one long leg over the other. "It's like... a right of passage for some Australian teachers - well, muggle teachers - to go teach in England. Most of us come back, because it's so very.... wet here, all the time," Zoe said with a sigh, glancing out the window for a moment at the dreary darkness that lay beyond... even though it was by no means night time. "Me personally? I had held the Muggle Studies position at the Australian school and wanted a new challenge. Over there... it's not quite as separate a world, as I've found here. Anyway, the position became available here and ... what witch in their right mind wouldn't want to teach at an ancient institution such as Hogwarts?"
Zoe shrugged her shoulders and patted the desk beside her, as if offering it for Askold to get comfy next to her. "How about you, Mr Mysterious new owner of the Hog's Head Inn?"
Those blue eyes, that innocent look, private baking... It dawned upon him. She was flirting with him. Hard. Askold's brain shut down for a second -- he hadn't been close to anyone for almost a decade now, and he'd never been too good at it, always feeling like a bumbling child, yet now a beautiful woman his age was enticing him-- and all he could get out was an uneasy chuckle.
The baker felt like his face had turned into a stove -- his cheeks were slowly, yet steadily heating up with every minute he spent around Professor Savage. And, as much as he tried to suppress the thought, he realized that he was heating up all over. It was an uncomfortable, shameful feeling, because, devil have you, this was the opposite of being dignified and professional. I shouldn't be feeling like this, and... I should be able to say no. And yet... She doesn't seem to have any qualms about it.
He stood there, silent, lost in thought, looking a bit dumbfounded, causing him to not register that Zoe was asking him questions in return. It all felt so wrong, yet...So right?
Askold finally was brought back to the universe when she moved away from him and sat down on a desk, giving him some space. He took a deep breath and crossed his arms, trying to set a barrier between them. He wasn't going to engage with her in her own classroom. He wasn't going to engage with anyone until they've sat down and talked it out. In truth, he'd prefer to bed only someone he was dating, alas, that wasn't going to happen any time soon, not in Hogsmeade at least.
"Sorry, I got lost in thought." he apologized, looking away. "I can't tell much difference between the weather here and Russia, it's cold either way."
When Zoe prompted him to tell his story, Askold saw a way out. His story was one to kill the mood, even if he felt bad about that, too.
"Well, it's not a nice one." the man pushed up his fake glasses and cleared his throat. "My uncle was-- is a werewolf. He is also the kindest man I've ever met. My parents trusted him to look after me, and he helped me see the good in everyone. One day..." he sighed, closing his eyes. "One day, when I was 15, I came home for Christmas break and my parents told me that people from the Russian Ministry and took him away."
"I became very vocal about the rights of magical creatures. And I became a nuisance, so I had to go somewhere... Then I heard about the things happening here, and, well, here I am."
A nervous chuckle. Yep, best believe Zoe had registered that was the only response she got to her questions. Perhaps this young man suffered from selective mute-ism like Raj from The Big Bang? Nevermind, Zoe didn't need him to speak for the plans she had. A quick glance in his direction told her all she needed to know; Zoe was very fluent in body-language. Goodness, he had a face that would look perfect ... nevermind. Zoe registered how he came back to 'life' when she gave him space and, for now, she resigned herself to letting him have the space.
"It's ok, dare I offer a sickle for them? your thoughts, that is," Zoe said easily, smiling because it dawned on her that perhaps being... even more foreign than her, he wasn't aware of the 'penny for them' question. Argh. She desperately wanted to ask 'just how naked was I in them?' but she feared he might implode in her classroom. Instead, Zoe folded her hands in her lap because it was obvious he wasn't about to come sit next to her either.
"Oh see I would've thought that England would feel like a tropical island compared to the USSR... learn something new every day!" Zoe said cheerfully; her knowledge of Russia was painfully lacking. She'd done a school project regarding the Romanovs, but that was over 100 years ago now. "I stopped in Denmark - there's an Australian who's a princess there in the muggle world - but that's about as far north as I'd ever be able to go without freezing my nipples off."
Yes. She had just said nipples. Let's see how Askold handles that picture.
Attentively, Zoe stayed quiet to listen to Askold's story. She chewed her bottom lip as her mind raced ahead in his story, and put a hand on her chest when he said that the Russians had taken his uncle away. "Oh God, that's horrible Askold. Do... do you know if he's still alive?" she asked carefully, aware that most would skirt around the question but... talking helped in Zoe's opinion. "How are your parents?"
Zoe couldn't help herself now. She unfolded her long, bare legs and let the heels clack on the stone floor of the classroom. Within moments, she was standing with her arms spread wide, her chest pressed against his folded arms. "Bless you for standing up for what is right," she went to wrap her arms around him because that story... that story needed a hug. And a kiss, but let's start off with the hug.
TAG: ASKOLD PANIN Note: he can obvs decline the offered hug or shrug out of it <3 she hasn't wrapped him in it yet
"I was just, uh," he cleared his throat, trying to come up with a cover-up for his inner torture session. "I was just considering you-" What the hell, Askold! - "Your class, I mean. Not that I... Nevermind." I must look as red as a beetroot right now, God save me.
"Eh, I never even experienced the USSR, though my parents told me that the 90'ies might have been even worse in some ways." he rambled, "but the weather doesn't care what country it is in, does it?" Now you sound like you think the weather has a mind, you're a down right idiot, Askold.
His self-chastising ended abruptly when Zoe mentioned her nipples. The young man felt something churn in his stomach and he needed a moment to close his eyes, nibbling at his lip. The longer he spent here, the more irresistible Zoe became, even though she wasn't even doing much. It dawned upon him how long it had been since he'd had any human contact besides formal handshakes and hugging his parents. It had been... Half a decade?
And now there was a beautiful woman trying to entice him, and he was avoiding it because of some stale old moral code he'd instilled in himself when he was a teenager. His parents had shown him what true love was, what it meant to have a family, they had been his example for the future, and he'd never even heard that either of them had dated anyone else in their life. Then again, there was no sex in USSR..
The times were different, ever-changing and old values retreated in the background. Askold knew, that with his current situation, a family was unimaginable -- he wouldn't want to put anyone in danger of associating with him, so would he really deny himself?
I feel like my head is a pot of boiling porridge.
Then the conversation took a sharp turn, and he didn't have time to ponder such things. Instead, he dived straight into all the unpleasant memories of the last 12 years.
"I'm sure he is alive, he just has to be. Probably somewhere in Siberia, trying to get by." he said, his voice filled with conviction. As long as there wasn't any concrete proof, Askold would stay by the opinion that his uncle was alive and as well as he could be, no matter how unlikely it would seem to others. He knew his uncle.
"My parents? Well," he scratched the back of his head and sighed, "They're alright. I've heard that people have been... Taking any frustrations that they have with me on them, but they don't let themselves be intimidated. I can't send them letters as often as I would like to, as I'm an informal enemy of the state, but.. It'll be alright."
Zoe didn't miss a second to embrace him in a hug. As he unfolded his arms, his hands brushed against her chest, causing him to stammer a quiet apology, but he didn't try to push her away. Her arms felt so right wrapped 'round him. He needed some comfort, some closeness. He really did.
