Catching Fire (Dottie)

It was one of these days… These days that were not exactly ideal. Ilya didn’t usually let anything get him down for long but in today’s quodpot practice the quod had actually exploded in his hands. Of course he had tried to make fun of the situation but he hadn’t really enjoyed it.

While the boy actually liked to get attention no matter what for, he naturally preferred it when he got attention because he was good at something, funny, or just bold. Getting attention because a strand of his hair as well as his right eyebrow were singed was not exactly what he liked. However, he had made some funny comments on how that was a fashion statement, had smiled, and thought that he might just skip dinner to avoid having to listen to his classmates going on about how funny practice had been.

He had, therefore, returned to his dormitory to change into a fresh set of school robes and had brushed his hair, thinking that he still did not look his best (he thought he might actually have to cut off a strand of hair after the incident with the quod and his eyebrow needed to be restored to its former shape as well).

Feeling uncharacteristically grumpy, Ilya made his way through the corridors but came to an abrupt halt just in time before he’d bump into the new Charms professor who just left her office. He felt how his cheeks reddened and grinned nervously. “Oh hi, sorry, I…” he shrugged it off. “You gotta be really starved, rushing out of your office like that,” he said, smirking at her and sounding a lot more like himself again. “Or did you set a fire in your room and need help putting it out again?”

@Dottie Dubé

Well, they all knew now. Not the whole school, though. Merlin, she hoped not, that would be awkward as hell. However, all the relevant people had finally been informed about who Addie’s father was. Now that the secret was out though, Dorothy felt like she was quite possibly the most hated person ever though. They were probably all angry at her,  and that was understandable, she supposed. She was pretty frustrated with herself too. The problem was, now, she didn’t really know what to do. There was nothing she could really say to make things better, to fix things.

All she could do now, she supposed, was just let everything play out. It was out of her hands, really. Dottie could only really keep her distance, to give them some space to get accustomed to the news, internalise it on their own terms. If they were ready, then she’d let them approach her… but not the other way around. She would not invade their territory. It was hard for the Canadian professor, she wanted to reach out and help, say anything to make things better. However, she knew that it would probably make things worse. She just had to be patient.

Dottie still tried to help with the mess she had caused, simply by making herself as scarce as possible. Beyond classes, and seeing the occasional student in her office for a chat if she needed to, and staff meetings too (of course) then Dottie was rarely to be seen among the corridors of Ilvermorny. She quickly went to the hall for food, grabbed what she needed and then returned to her office to eat alone. It was a lonely existence, but it was for the greater good, or so she told herself. At least, she had the copious fires she had to keep her company, watching the flames dance and bend to her will was always extremely cathartic, and nothing else mattered then. The smell of fire probably emanated from her office, and herself too, even more than usual which was saying a lot.

She was in the middle of burning some papers she no longer needed, in a little floating ball above her desk, when she glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. Dottie realised she’d have to quickly get to the hall to grab some dinner and back before the main staff and students all started piling in; Ricky, Gideon and Adelaide among them. Flicking her hand, she sent the burning ball into the fireplace where it disappeared in seconds, as she put on her blazer and rushed out of the room.

The professor gasped as she came face to face unexpectedly with a student, Ilya, one of the students she actually liked. However, the young student didn’t seem quite himself. He had half an eyebrow, it seemed. Dorothy quirked one of her own fully-intact eyebrows as he addressed her. “Mister Denisov, I beg your pardon, I...” Nope. She just couldn’t take him seriously with half an eyebrow in that shape. She stopped, with an amused smirk clearly on her face. “I think I should be asking you that.” She finished, gesturing to the half singed eyebrow that he was likely already aware of. “Failed charm, quodpot or potion explosion?” She asked, crossing her arms but unable to hide the amused smile on her face. She couldn’t think of any other reason why an eyebrow would be partially singed beyond those three.

“Would you like help in fixing it? I’m sure you don’t want to walk into the hall looking like that.” She half-laughed, knowing how students would react, having dealt with it once or twice in her own student days herself. She gently beckoned him into her office, waiting to see if he’d take her up on her offer before moving.

Ilya had briefly believed that his professor would actually justify herself when he was the one who had almost bumped into her in the first place. However, he had clearly not considered his own appearance here. Her smirk served to make the boy feel about as uncomfortable as his earlier meeting with the mirror.

She gestured at his eyebrow and immediately the boy lifted his hand to cover that evidence of the quodpot incident. He had to admit, though, that professor Dubé wasn’t stupid. She made some good guesses and Ilya found himself shrugging and grinning sheepishly before he could stop himself.

“Quodpot,” he muttered, looking rather unhappy. Since his very first attempts at the sport, Ilya hadn’t received any such burns anymore. It was embarrassing and felt like a defeat although nothing bad had really happened. It had only been a practice and aside from having made some teammates laugh there had been no harm and making people laugh wasn’t exactly ‘harm’ either.

Professor Dubé offered to fix his eyebrow and Ilya’s eyes lit up as his lips formed a smile. “Would you really?” he asked, feeling that this particular professor was on a good way to become his favourite teacher at Ilvermorny. “I’d appreciate it so much!” he added and walked confidently into her office.

Only when he was already standing in the middle of her office he realised that professor Dubé had just been on her way out of it. “I do not want to keep you from anything, though,” he offered, hoping that she’d say that she had nothing important to do anyway. As he waited for her response, he looked at her, offering one of his best smiles. For a professor she was really exceptionally pretty, the boy thought.

She couldn’t help but give him a small chuckle as the boy shrugged, and then admitted that it had been an unfortunate Quodpot incident. Though she didn’t really didn’t consider it unfortunate at all, the unhappy look on her student’s face told her that he did not feel the same way. Dottie was rather fond of the sport herself, though she preferred making the quodpot explode more than anything... which she supposed, with great reluctance, wasn’t exactly the point of the game. “Mm-hmm, I thought so,” she replied with a grin, almost grateful that she’d run into him, as his misfortune was cheering her up immensely.

Dorothy was glad that she had offered to fix his eyebrow upon seeing his reaction, and she smiled warmly as she watched his eyes light up. “Of course,” she reiterated, shaking her head slightly in bemusement. “I wouldn’t have said otherwise, would I?” She frowned to herself as she walked into her office, wondering if other professors would perhaps say such a thing as a joke and then leave the poor student to suffer at the hands of their peers. That just wasn’t her style. She’d treat any student at the school the same as she would her own daughter, and at that moment probably better than her daughter, since she was in the predicament of giving her the space she needed.

“Nonsense, Mister Denisov.” She half-laughed, waving her hand nonchalantly as she tried to remember where she kept her wand, beginning to pat down her pockets to try and find it. “I’m sure my stomach won’t mind waiting a few more minutes before dinner.” She smiled at him again, before her face turned into a scowl as she couldn’t find her wand. “Where did I…” She muttered to herself, before she eventually found it and twirled her wand in her hand. “Aha! There you are,” she spoke to her wand as normally as she would any other student, before flicking it in the direction of her fireplace, breaking into a relieved grin as she heard the familiar crackle of firewood.

“Besides, once I’ve done this for you…” She paused for dramatic effect more than anything, smirking to herself. “Perhaps you’d be willing to do a little favour for me.” The Charms professor raised an eyebrow, hoping that Ilya would agree. By the time she had fixed his eyebrow and made it into the hall, everyone would already be there. But if Ilya could grab her something and bring it to her, then she’d never have to step foot in the hall and everyone would be happy.