Out of all the seasons, Jürgen liked winter best. Most people tended to gravitate towards spring or summer because it marked the beginning of the warmer months or because it was time to go home and relax. But for the Krov, winter also meant that they were halfway through with the term, winter meant that after a few more months he, too, would have the pleasure of returning home a graduated student. This mid-point allowed him to reflect on his life and to really think on what the rest of the year held in store for him.
At this point in his academic career things like his grades did not worry him, he would get top scores in most subjects as he was expected to. In terms of athletics, Jürgen had certainly enjoyed his stint in the Quidditch team but had known years prior he was not about to make anything out of it. And he was content with that, it made him feel practical when he did not say things like he would be trying to go pro. There were people who deserved that, like Miha or maybe even Lev, but then there were people like Jürgen, who were good at everything but not exceptional at anything.
Never one to waste precious learning time, Jürgen had pulled one of his Curses and Hexes textbook on his way to do his rounds. Deep down, however, the boy’s infatuation with seeming intelligent went beyond what he believed to be the expectations of a tsar. He had garnered quite a reputation for punishing others for the most minor of infractions, it gave him a sense of purpose to be ridiculously strict with everyone he encountered, but he had not quite gone further than that which upset him greatly since he believed that a tsar was supposed to be more than just the uniform police.
Of course, the boy would never tell his housemates this lest they tried to turn every sob story into a way to weasel their way out of getting in trouble, but he was actively trying to be more sympathetic. It was his seventh year, after all, and Jürgen knew that while his intellectual prowess and athletic abilities were good enough to do something with, his personality left a lot to be desired.
He rounded the corner of the hallway, looking down at his textbook in deep conversation as he tried to match the movements of his hand at his side in the same way that he might have done so in if he was in class trying to move through the actions of the hex. His wand magic had not been as great as it had been when he had first started Durmstrang, but considering it was an important part of his future plans (possibly, the boy had yet to decide) it worried him the closer they approached the end of the year.
A sudden noise distracted him, making him frown a little as he walked into the Commons Room just in time for him to see Zhenya stumble over and knocking her ink bottle onto the floor. Without thinking twice, the boy rushed over to her side, “Hey, you alright?†he asked, crouching down to pick up the ink bottle and what little ink was left in it. He thought to pull out his wand and tidy it up but he remembered he was trying to be a people person now and that meant putting those sorts of things to the side no matter how much they annoyed him. “Leave it, I’ll take care of it later,†he offered with a smile. “Were you, uh, practicing some of your moves?†he asked. It seemed like an awkward question, the way he’d phrased it, but he knew enough about Zhenya to know what she was up to lately and well it seemed like the best line of questioning considering the circumstances.
