I'll keep gettin' up when I hit the ground (Zhenya)

4th November 2003

Zinaida had deliberately woken up extremely early that morning to ensure that she would be one of the only artistic flyers out on the Quidditch Pitch for practice. It was a Monday morning so Zina hoped that everyone else was either going for breakfast first or doing some last minute work for assignments that were due. She didn’t want anyone to see what she was going to be working on as she trained. Zina was going to attempt her idol’s signature element, the backflip, on her broom for the first time. The junior athlete thought that it would best if she tried it on the pitch with no one else around so that no one could see her mistakes and laugh at her attempts. She didn’t want to be embarrassed in such a way, and she certainly didn’t want any of her rivals (and family) to start practicing it too. Zina wanted to be the first junior to successfully complete it in competition. She wanted to make history.

Zina wasn’t so naïve as to just attempt it on her broom straight away however, and her courage had been bolstered by the fact that she was able to complete a backflip on the floor. She had wanted to make sure that she could also do it properly on the beams, but they only had a few at Durmstrang and they were almost always busy. The Drakonya Krov student thought that if she hovered her broom close to the ground that it would mimic the beam’s height anyway, so it would surely be fine.

It was already November, and that meant the Christmas gala would be quickly approaching. Zina felt that she needed to work hard to have improved by then, that she needed to have something good up her sleeve to show Aleksandra and Aglaya too. Her distant cousin had been so kind to give her some advice back in August, and she was even more honoured that the World Champion had been replying to her concerned letters. The rumours circulating about Aglaya Antonovna had been just horrible, but with her distant cousin’s words of encouragement, Zina had learnt to tune them out. She had heard from Aglaya herself, so clearly everything was fine and there was no need to worry.

As she stepped out into the bitter cold and crisp air of the Swedish winter dawn, Zina shivered and wrapped an arm around herself, the other still steadying her broom on her shoulder. She chose the lightest of jumpers she had, only wearing a sports bra underneath that but her leggings of course were as usual. She was wearing a light training jacket over it, but she didn’t want anything to be weighing her down for the backflip and she’d certainly take the jacket off once she had warmed up.

Smiling to herself as it appeared that the coast was clear upon reaching the pitch, Zina gently placed her broom on the ground and ran a few laps around the pitch to warm up. She then decided to do a length of the pitch doing forward, side and back kicks on each of her legs to loosen up as well. Satisfied by these, Zinaida eagerly stepped up onto the platform of her broom and began running through her usual warm-up exercises, before deciding it was best to ensure she was fully warm and ready to go by doing her technical exercise.

Once she finished, Zina lowered the broom so that it was a few inches from the ground and stepped off it, leaving the broom to hover in the air as she removed her jacket and placed it at the side of the pitch so it was out of the way. She moved back towards her broom, stopping a few metres away and shuffled to make herself comfortable. Using her arms to help her, Zina jumped off of the ground and landed her backflip quite solidly which made her smile proudly at herself. The junior artistic flyer considered herself ready to try it.

Stepping back onto the broom, she raised it so that it was around a metre from the ground and just hovering stationary. She took a deep breath in and out, feeling how the butterflies were forming in her stomach. 'I can do this. I can totally do this.' Zina tried to encourage herself, as she started to raise her arms up ready to jump.

@Zhenya Shishkina

Life had changed so much since August.

Zhenya couldn’t even believe just how different things were now. She was European champion amongst the junior artistic flyers now and it still felt so unreal. The girl firmly believed that she did not deserve the title but she had her gold medal as a proof that it was actually true. When she had previously dreamed of becoming an international champion, Zhenya had thought that she’d want to celebrate and feel accomplished but she mostly felt embarrassed that she had won without even giving her best. This was not the most drastic change in her life though.

There was also the artistic flying club that had been established at Durmstrang and of which she had been made the club captain – this, probably, was also a result of her title and, therefore, felt rather undeserved as well. It was odd to be in charge of the club to say the very least and Zhenya felt deeply responsible for the other athletes who trained with her at Durmstrang now.

This was probably also a result of the happenings at the artistic flying school on the open day and the consequences of it. She felt protective of her family members and the club members and she spent a lot of time worrying about their well being more than ever. Her distant cousin’s poisoning had come as a shock but seeing Nastya in a desolate state in Döttrar Vik had been even worse as it confirmed her vague suspicions that this was really a big deal and had revealed that not only Aglaya was badly affected by this.

Zhenya tried to do everything that was expected of her anyway and it felt like a burden. She was training hard, unwilling to allow herself to give less than her very best ever again but clearly struggling as her concentration was not always at its best. She tried to spark interest in the sport, support both the experienced junior flyers as well as the beginners who had joined the club and she also tried to keep up with school work. That, however, was little successful. When she thought of her classes she felt tense, even anxious, and as the school year progressed it only got worse. She clearly lacked time to keep up with everything.

The girl felt that she was under constant observation and pressure and sometimes Zhenya went down to the Quidditch pitch at odd times, hoping to be alone and just relax on her broom, doing simple moves and some spins to reconnect with her old self that had actually enjoyed the sport and been happy to make sacrifices for the success.

As she walked down to the pitch on this Monday morning, she saw her sister already from afar and her heart skipped a beat when she realised what Zina was practising. She actually attempted a backflip on the ground and seemed to move on to her broom next. Zhenya ran down to the pitch now, worried that her sister would risk a backflip on her broom and badly injure herself.

“Stop it!” she shouted as she was close enough to be heard and approached her younger sibling. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?” she asked, concern written all over your face. The girl’s face was pale now. She shook her head and chewed on her lower lip as she tried to figure out why she was so very freaked out. Every artistic flyer who had some ambition had probably considered trying the backflip at some point. It was little surprising that Zina wanted to try it and yet Zhenya felt that she had to protect her little sister, her family, the reputation of the sport and prevent a bad accident.

“Don’t you think our family has enough to worry about already?” she asked, her voice brittle. “Honestly, Zinochka, what have you been thinking? Please…” Zhenya let her own broom drop into the grass and looked at her sibling pleadingly. “Don’t try this here. It’s too much of a risk. Don’t make me worry about you as well… It’s all too much already!” Zhenya felt how her eyes filled with tears and she turned around, unwilling to let her sister see just how much she was struggling.

Zinaida felt the small flicker of doubt that she could actually do this as she bent her knees to take off, when she suddenly heard an urgent sounding shout just as she jumped. Startled, Zina swung her arms to stop her body’s rotation, successfully stopping her backflip as her momentum instead lifted her up as she jumped high and landed on the ground on all fours, her heart beating rapidly in her head as she took a second or two to steady herself before looking up to see her older sister.

“Zhenya! You startled me!” Zina breathed, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she pushed on her knee to stand up to full height. Her sister asked what she was doing and Zina raised an eyebrow, wondering if her attempt was so bad that Zhenya couldn’t even figure out what it was originally going to be. “Uh… a backflip?” Zina stated, as she tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. “What did it look like to you?” She asked, genuinely curious and not in any way realising her sister had completely recognised what she was trying to accomplish.

Her sister looked so pale and concerned, and Zina furrowed her brows wondering why this could possibly be the case. “...What?” Zinaida asked, confused as to why her older sister was so randomly bringing up the rest of the family. What did they have to do with all of this? It was just a backflip! Zina didn’t think she’d be successful at it on the first go, what was there to worry about?

“What do you mean?” Zina asked innocently, as Zhenya asked what she was thinking. “I wanted to land a backflip... That’s all.” The junior athlete shrugged her shoulders feeling that Zhenya was making such a huge deal out of nothing. Her sister added that it was too much of a risk to try it there and Zina glanced away from her sister, feeling that perhaps she did have a point. The Quidditch pitch didn’t have the same protection spells on it as the arena at the artistic flying school at home did. Even so, it surely wasn’t that big of a deal, was it?

“Zhenya…” Zinaida muttered imploringly as her sister turned away from her. She reached out a hand and laid it on her sister’s shoulder, empathising with Zhenya even if she didn’t understand why her sister was reacting so extremely. “I’m sorry… I didn’t realise it would upset you so much.” She tried to soothe her older sibling, rubbing Zhenya’s shoulder in a way she hoped was comforting. “Are… are you okay?”

“Sorry,” Zhenya muttered, feeling guilty that her sister had fallen off her broom because she had startled her. However, she’d much rather see Zina land safely (albeit unceremoniously) on all fours than to have her break her neck.

“Yeah,” the girl said, her voice hoarse. “It looked like a backflip… Have you lost your mind?” Zhenya shook her head, feeling lost for words. How could Zina attempt such a dangerous element without supervision by a coach, without the proper precautions that they had at the artistic flying school? It was entirely stupid and something Zhenya clearly had not expected her sister to do.

Apparently Zina was totally unaware why Zhenya was having issues with her trying a backflip here and now but the elder of the two sisters felt unable to articulate herself now as she was way too stressed and emotional to think of the right things to say and to control her voice if she attempted to speak. She, therefore, just flung her hands into the air and shook her head, lost for anything sensible to say or do.

As she turned around she felt that Zina placed a hand on her shoulder, saying that she didn’t realise that her backflip attempt would upset her so much and asking if she was okay. Zhenya swallowed hard and wanted to say something but the only thing that she managed right away was a strangled “Hmm”.

She took a deep breath and spun around, her eyes filled with tears as she looked at her younger sister. “Am I okay?” she said, her voice sound shriller than it usually was. “Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea what’s going on? We already have enough to worry about. Do not risk severe injury, please. Don’t attempt this element here… It’s too dangerous. I do not want to…” she shook her head again and looked at her feet. “I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all,” she said, trying to sound relaxed now and glanced up again with a sheepish smile, already regretting that she had been unable to calm herself. She clearly did not intend to share all the information she had received from Nastya with her younger sibling but at the same time felt that she might have to say something to make Zina see that trying a dangerous element wasn’t the way to go in the current situation.

What did her sister mean? It wasn’t very nice of Zhenya to suggest she was crazy at all. “No?” Zina hesitantly replied with furrowed brows, still very confused at her older sibling’s behaviour. What was going on? Even with Zhenya’s weird behaviour, it was still a mild relief that her thwarted backflip attempt at least looked like she was attempting a backflip. That was a good start, even if she didn’t get any further than preparation for takeoff. 

Zina couldn’t help but let out an incredulous breathy laugh through her nose, with a searching look on her face, trying to figure out what in Merlin’s name Zhenya was trying to articulate. It would have been much easier if her sister used her words instead of dramatic gestures though.

As Zhenya turned back around to face her, Zinaida quickly dropped her hand from her sister’s shoulder as her eyebrows raised upon hearing Yevgeniya’s shrill voice. Her sister asked if she was out of her mind for the second time, and Zina’s chin wobbled as she blinked rapidly to stop herself from crying. It was really quite hurtful, even more so coming from the sister that she had always looked up to. She felt like she was being punished, but she still didn’t understand what she had done wrong. It seemed right to let Zhenya finish her odd little tirade first, and Zina just stood there with her head bowed as she hugged herself trying to listen and understand.

Her eyes flicked up as Zhenya seemed to bring up the situation that was happening with their distant cousin, but Zina couldn’t figure out what Aglaya Antonovna had to do with her backflip attempt. Had something else happened there that she didn’t know about but Zhenya did? Was Stasya right all along, was her sister keeping things from her? Should she have questioned Zhenya more? At least her sister did have a good point about the risk of severely injuring herself. Already, in her brief junior career she had suffered from two major injuries that prevented her from competing. But Zinaida was sure that she had taken good enough precautions to prevent that, hadn’t she?

“But I… I can do it on the floor!” Zina blurted out pleadingly, trying to reassure her sister that it wasn’t as big a deal as what Zhenya was trying to make it out to be. “And I kept the broom close to the ground so it wouldn’t hurt much if I fell…” She added, feeling like she had definitely done the sensible thing there. Merlin knew how extreme Zhenya’s reaction would have been had she tried it at a higher height from the ground. “Don’t you want me to improve?” Zina added quietly, still feeling like she was missing something and was being told off for it.

“And what do you mean ‘we have enough to worry about’ ?” Zinaida asked as her eyes narrowed slightly. “Has something else happened that you haven’t told me? What are you hiding from me?” The younger of the sisters felt guilty for even suggesting that Zhenya was being deliberately deceptive towards her, but nothing else made any sense. Zina bristled at the idea that she couldn’t even trust Zhenya anymore though, and hoped that her sister would say that it wasn’t true. “I thought you’d tell me everything.”

Zhenya was vaguely aware that she was upsetting her sister but she couldn’t hold her feelings back anymore. She just didn’t want to risk having another family member to worry about. The letter that she received from Nastya were clearly enough to freak the young witch out more than she’d like to admit to anyone. She tried to stay strong, to write sensible and mature things back to Nastya but she was struggling, struggling with the secrecy, with the pressure she was dealing with and, of course, with the worry about her family.

“Zinochka…” she pleaded, “it’s great you can do it on the floor and your time to do it on a broom will come… just, please, don’t make me worry about you by trying it here. Do it in safe training conditions at home, if you must. Just…” her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes, trying to fight the tears that were welling up.

She swallowed hard and opened her eyes again to look imploringly at her younger sibling. “Of course I do want you to improve and you are improving. You’ll be the one to beat in future, I’m convinced of it. You’re so talented.” She sighed and shook her head slightly, “it’s just not the right time to take any further risks… please, trust me.”

Zhenya stepped indecisively from one foot to the other and chewed on her lip, trying to figure out if she should confide in Zina and at least partly tell her what she knew about the things that happened back home in Rybinsk. She had promised secrecy but didn’t the situation at hand give her the right to say a little at least? Zhenya felt already guilty before she opened her mouth to respond because she knew that she’d betray the trust of one person dear to her – either she hid things from her own sister or she betrayed the trust that Nastya had put in her. She could only lose at this point.

“I…” Zhenya sighed and looked at the ground. “I wish I could tell you everything. I promised Nastya not to do so, though.” The girl quickly wiped off a tear that was running down her cheek and looked at her sister with a sad smile. “Oh Zina… I’ve been exchanging letters with Nastya and…” a sob escaped her as she shook her head. “I am not supposed to tell anyone, not even you… I don’t know what to do!” she said, her voice shrill again as she flung her hands up in a desperate gesture. “You won’t tell anyone, I trust – not Rodion or Ruslan, not Liza or anyone…” she took a deep shaky breath and shrugged. “I don’t even know that much!” She gave a humourless laugh. “All I know is that they are not doing well… Nastya worries me so much. Her letters are…” she shrugged again and shook her head. “I think Aglaya once tried to fly again and even though Nastya’s letters are more riddles than actual letters I think something went wrong there and Nastya has been taken ill too. I’m so worried. It feels like everything is crumbling down and I ought to do something but I can’t! I’m just a student and it’s all too much.”

At least it didn’t sound like Zhenya was totally and completely against the idea, which pleased Zina enough to stop any tears from falling. She didn’t know what to say, or rather she didn’t know what Zhenya wanted her to say though. Either way, Zinaida had a feeling that she wouldn’t be attempting a backflip any time soon, even at home. There was an odd urgency in her elder sister’s words which made Zina pay attention. “I’m… sorry.” Zina offered rather meekly, bowing her head and avoiding eye contact.

She blushed slightly as Zhenya praised her, glancing towards her sister with a small, demure smile. Zina didn’t really believe what her sister was telling her. After all, considering who her sister was, it was a huge compliment. Yevgeniya was the European junior champion, and yet the champion who had beaten her was now telling Zina that she was the one to beat, that she was talented. “That’s… not really true. But, thank you.” Zinaida muttered, unable to really take the compliment that she felt was quite undeserved. She hoped she was going to receive an explanation for her older sister’s odd behaviour as she watched Zhenya seem to debate something with herself. Zina stood there, remaining silent. She thought that perhaps if she waited, her patience would be rewarded.

Zinaida hummed discontentedly as Zhenya started confessing what she had kept from her younger sister. She knew she should have listened to Stasya. Zhenya had been keeping secrets from her. Zina found that she couldn’t really be angry though, as she hadn’t exactly told Zhenya that she’d been exchanging letters with Aglaya herself. It’d be hypocritical of her to criticise her elder sister for something she had done as well. She listened carefully, and even though her first instinct was to hug Zhenya as she first sobbed, Zina remained where she was, clasping her hands together in thought. Her head shook as Zhenya questioned whether or not she’d tell anyone. “No…” Zina muttered assuredly to confirm that any secrets she’d be told were safe with her. She gave a slight nod as Zhenya said she didn’t know that much. This did not surprise Zina at all. She did not know much either and she had heard from Aglaya herself, whom this all revolved around.

Upon hearing that Nastya’s letters were worrying Zhenya, Zinaida switched from foot to foot wondering if she should mention that Nastya was ill, at least according to Aglaya’s last letter. As Zhenya continued though, Zina smiled in relief that Zhenya already knew this information herself. Aglaya hadn’t mentioned to her that she’d attempted to fly again though, but then Zina supposed she didn’t really get much information from Aglaya at all. Zina was just happy to be receiving any kind of letter from her idol and role model that signified that she was still alive.

“Yes… Aglaya Antonovna told me that she thought Nastya had been ill.” Zina chewed on her lip, before shrugging her shoulders. “I’ve been writing to her myself for a while.” Zina admitted, before deciding that she couldn’t hold back any longer and quickly closed the distance between herself and her older sister, flinging her arms around Zhenya in a tight hug. “Oh, Zhenechka…” Zina breathed in sympathy and concern, feeling how her own eyes welled up with tears seeing her sister so worried. “No one will be expecting you to do anything.” She murmured against her sister’s hair as she gently rubbed Zhenya’s back, hoping that it would be comforting.

“I doubt anyone at all knows what to do…” Zinaida tried to sound comforting, but as her chin wobbled, she made more of a strangled noise instead. “This has been so awful for… for all of us.” She finished, as a tear dripped down her cheek, the empathic girl feeling Zhenya’s pain as her own. Zina pulled away slightly, and took her sister’s hands in her own, squeezing them encouragingly. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know.”

“It’s true!” Zhenya said with some urgency in her voice. “You are a lot better than you think.” While she wanted to add more, her thoughts were already drifting off to Nastya and Aglaya and the situation back home in Rybinsk again, making it impossible to focus on praising her younger sister.

“Aglaya Antonovna told you?” The elder of the two Shishkina sisters stared at Zina in disbelief. “Why didn’t you inform me?” Okay, she was totally having double standards here, but how could Zina be in contact with Aglaya at all? After all that Nastya had told her about her elder sister, Zhenya had been convinced that nobody had been in touch with Aglaya over the past weeks.

Zina hugged her now and Zhenya let it happen without really reacting a lot to it. She was still trying to understand how it was possible that Zina was getting information from Aglaya herself and hadn’t told her a word about it. Had she had to promise to keep everything secret, too? What did Zina know? Maybe there was some information that only her younger sister was privy to that hadn’t reached her yet.

Zhenya felt how her cheeks were glowing as her sister tried to soothe her that nobody was expecting her to do anything. Nastya was. Nastya was desperate and confided in her. She had to help her one way or another. Maybe their parents didn’t expect her to do anything about it. However, her distant cousin had chosen her to talk about what was bothering her. What was she supposed to do? Just listen and remain passive? Not listen at all? A sob escaped Zhenya as she realised that she was in a predicament that had no simple way out.

As they pulled away and Zina said that she was sorry and hadn’t known, Zhenya couldn’t stop herself any longer. The floodgates opened and tears were streaming down her face. She was sobbing and could hardly breathe anymore now, but she tried to fight it. She wanted, no, she needed to say what was on her mind now.

“But Nastya confided in me,” she brought out between two sobs. “She needs my help.” She pulled her hands out of Zina’s to try and dry her face. “She is going through so much and she needs me.” The girl was shaking now as she realised that the burden was way too heavy for her. She could not be what Nastya needed and while she had felt it deep down all the time she was now thinking it, too. “I just have to help her,” she whimpered. “What if something bad happens?” As she spoke these words, Zhenya realised that bad things had already happened and she shook her head. “Worse things than those that already have happened…” she added in a brittle voice.

Zinaida smiled sheepishly with a small shake of her head as Zhenya tried to tell her that she truly was better than she thought she was. It wasn’t true, Zina could not believe that. She would only believe such a statement when she had the results to back it up, which as of yet, she did not.

“Mm-hmm,” the younger of the Shishkina sisters confirmed, studying Zhenya’s face carefully as she could see that the elder was surprised. Zina’s neutral expression soon formed into a scowl as Zhenya asked why she didn’t inform her about her correspondence with Aglaya. That was not okay. Zhenya couldn’t be so hypocritical, especially since it sounded to Zina that Zhenya had hidden far more from her than she had. “Why didn’t you tell me about your letters with Nastya?” Zinaida snapped back, a little harsher than she had intended and not really looking for an answer, but hoping that the uncharacteristic crispness of her tone would highlight her sister’s hypocrisy. Zina continued to frown, feeling weird as she started to doubt how much she could trust her elder sister anymore. If she was keeping her letter exchange with Nastya a secret, what else did the other witch not tell her? Could she trust anything Zhenya said again, or was she always going to be wondering if her sister’s words were lies?

She noticed as she hugged her sister that Zhenya didn’t really respond to it properly, and Zina felt awkward. Her sister was acting so strangely, and the junior artistic flyer didn’t understand why. It was uncomfortable for her, suddenly knowing that she didn’t know her elder sister as well as she thought she did.

Zhenya was sobbing now, and Zina had to do her utmost not to cry in response, knowing that wouldn’t help her sister at all. She, therefore, took a deep breath in and out to try and remain calm, simply observing her sister with concern and curiosity, waiting to see what Zhenya would say or do to explain herself.

Zina wondered if it was appropriate for her to be angry at Nastya for imposing on her sister so badly. Surely, the senior athlete had better people to bother with whatever problems she was facing than a teenage student who wasn’t even in the same country. She chewed on her lip, clasping her hands together in front of her as Zhenya pulled her hands away to dry her tears. What could she say? What did Zhenya want her to say, or need her to say? It was difficult to know without knowing the full story, she did not have the context that her elder sister clearly had and so she was at a disadvantage when it came to dispensing advice.

“What could she possibly expect you to do?” Zinaida blurted out before she could stop herself. “She does not need your help. You’re a student. What can you possibly do?” Zina shook her head, hoping she didn’t sound condescending or suggesting that her sister was useless, because the opposite was true. “Whatever she is going through, Andrey Viktorovich and her parents will deal with.” She hoped that was true, but Zina doubted it. What if Nastya didn’t have that option for some reason? But then, why would she choose to confide in Zhenya if she couldn’t even talk to her coach or parents about it? It didn’t make any sense. Unless... Nastya was deliberately hiding something from them, like Zhenya had to her.

“I’m sure… she just wants someone to listen to her. You don’t have to help her.” Zina tried to soothe Zhenya, despite feeling extremely unsure of her words. She gently reached out and grasped Zhenya’s hand, trying to lead her to a place where they could sit down and properly talk. “If something else happens, and it is really that serious, then I am positive that Alyona Igorovna will handle it.” Zina smiled and nodded resolutely, truly believing her last sentence even if she doubted everything else. She had a great respect for the healer, she always seemed so unfazed by anything that happened, or that was how it seemed to Zina. The healer would surely know what was going on with Nastya and be already fixing it as they were speaking. “I’m sure whatever Nastya was bothering you with has already been dealt with.”

“I didn’t tell you because Nastya made me promise not to tell anyone,” Zhenya said desperately. “What should I have done? Told you and betrayed her when she explicitly asked me not to tell anyone?” Her voice was shrill now and Zhenya realisted it. She felt uncomfortable about it but couldn’t control it right now. What did Zina expect from her? Had she had any good news to tell, she’d have told her sister right away. The girl figured that she should tell her as much.

“I’d have told you if I had received any good news,” she offered. “I haven’t heard anything positive, though, not really.”

On the other hand Zina seemed to have got good news because news from Aglaya Antonovna meant that she had been well enough to write Zina, a distant relative, a school girl. If Aglaya Antonovna had been able to do that she had to be better than Nastya seemed to think or maybe not? Zhenya felt entirely confused by the revelation that her sister had been exchanging letters with Nastya’s sister.

Zina was infuriating. First she wanted to try a backflip as though the family didn’t have enough to deal with. Then she revealed that she was privy to information that hadn’t reached Zhenya and last but not least she was belittling Zhenya, telling her that she could not help Nastya despite the fact that the older witch had confided in her and clearly needed her help.

“I don’t know!” Zhenya exclaimed, her voice not sounding shrill and foreign. Her face showed a grimace of despair and frustration.

“All I know is that she does need help. And she confided in me which puts me into the position that I have to do something!” She was angry that her sister didn't seem to consider her able or worthy to deal with the problems of adults when she was actually already dealing with them for a while.

She freed her hand out of Zina’s as her sister led her to a place where they could sit down but followed all the same. She didn’t mean to lash out at her younger sibling but somehow everything Zina said seemed naive and hypocritical now although she knew, deep inside, that she probably only meant well and tried to comfort her.

“Well, obviously, she doesn’t get the support that she needs from them,” Zhenya snarled angrily as Zina suggested that Nastya would get help from her parents or grandfather. She hadn’t meant to be that harsh but she just felt entirely helpless. She sank down on a seat in the first row of the stands, hiding her face in her hands, trying to fight the tears that were already streaming down her face again.

Okay, so that was a fair reason not to tell her, Zina supposed. Nastya must have asked her not to say anything for a reason, but at the same time Zinaida couldn’t help but feel that somehow Zhenya was prioritising their distant cousin over her, Zhenya’s own little sister. Was she in the wrong here to be angry at Zhenya for not telling her, clearly over the wishes of the senior artistic flyer? “No… I…” She paused, shuffling from one foot to the other as she stopped herself from stepping back, intimidated by Zhenya’s shrillness. “I guess you did the right thing. I’m sorry.” She apologised timidly, but there was still a bitterness to her voice that she just couldn’t hide.

At least Zhenya said she’d have told her about any good news, but since she hadn’t heard anything that meant there wasn’t any at all. Zina didn’t know what to make of that. “Oh… That’s…” not good. She thought, shaking her head to refresh her thoughts. “You’ll tell me if you do hear good news though? Promise me.” Her eyes were wide as she stared at Zhenya, daring her sister not to agree to her request.

Zina tried to keep her expression neutral as Zhenya grimaced, clearly angry about something. Clearly she hadn’t said the right things to her elder sister. “Well…” Zina began in order to fill the silence as she tried desperately to think of what to say. She had to change tactics, Zhenya wasn’t responding the way she had expected her to and it seemed to be making her sister more agitated than anything. Zina wanted to comfort her, not antagonise her. “Okay. What do you think you should do then?” Zina asked, wondering if maybe getting the older Shishkina sister to think about it would help her somehow. Perhaps maybe they could come up with a plan together then. If she couldn’t go against her sister and make her see sense, then she’d just have to join her instead. “What options have you considered? I could maybe provide a fresh perspective.” Her voice was soft, though it took significant effort for it to remain so. Her sister was being so weird and almost… irritating.

She tried not to take it personally as Zhenya freed her hand from her own as they went towards the stands, though it definitely still hurt and Zina couldn’t help but frown. It was difficult to continue to remain passive and calm as Zhenya snarled angrily at her for what she thought were quite reasonable comments. The fact she was intimidated and slightly scared by Zhenya’s anger was obvious as she cowered back from her sister slightly, sucking in a sharp breath to try and prevent herself from crying. Her sister was already crying again, so her own tears wouldn’t help Zhenya at all. “Have you…” She paused, chewing her lip wondering if she should finish her question. She didn’t want to have her head bitten off for suggesting something that could maybe help them both.

“Maybe you should write to one of them? You know, her mother, her grandfather? Tell them your concerns?” She wiggled in the seat uncomfortably, unable to look at her sister as she prepared herself for more angry, snappy responses. “Maybe she’s hiding stuff from them and they don’t know.”

As Zina said that she was sorry, Zhenya didn’t really listen, didn’t really believe her. Zina was just shying away from the conflict. Something told her that her sister was still holding it against her that she hadn’t told her all about her exchange with Nastya. However, how hypocritical was she? Zina had heard from Aglaya Antonovna herself and hadn’t bothered to tell her either. If Zhenya had done something wrong in not telling her little sister (although she had been explicitly asked not to tell anyone) then Zina had committed a similar act of betrayal.

Zina’s reaction to her confession that she hadn’t heard positive news from Nastya made Zhenya almost roll her eyes. What was her sister thinking? That she was getting nice and interesting letters from Nastya? Letters that made her feel better? She really had no idea how the letters had freaked her out and how she would have loved to talk about them to someone, to Zina actually.

“What do I know?” Zhenya shrieked again, unable to control her voice and not really trying anymore. She flung her hands up in a desperate gesture. “If I knew what to do I’d have done it. I’ve just been listening, meeting her, trying to be there for her, telling her that it’s all not her fault.” Her voice broke off abruptly and she felt that she had said too much. She was aware that it probably even showed in her face. Chewing on her lower lip, Zhenya wondered what she could do so that Zina would not think about the last bit she said but, as she couldn’t think clearly anyway, she had no idea.

“She got Aglaya a dog,” the girl said, forcing the grimace of a smile onto her face. “I encouraged her…” her voice trailed off. This wasn’t the point and it wasn’t helping either. Zina probably didn't approve of this either as, without a context, it seemed entirely ridiculous.

As they sat in the stands, Zhenya hid her face and felt like she’d remain in this pose until the end of time. She wasn’t able to face Zina or anyone, really. It was too much. Her emotions were too intense and she didn’t have the energy to try and regain control over herself.

Zina didn’t stop making suggestions that seemed at the same time entirely silly and still possibly useful. Zhenya shook her head, not removing her hands from her face. She sniffed and then mumbled, “I’d feel like I’d be betraying her trust. And she lives with Alyona Igorovna...” Zhenya wasn’t sure what point she was trying to make, but it felt really strange to send a letter about Nastya to a person the older athlete lived under the same roof with.

Zhenya’s shrieking was quickly getting on the younger of the Shishkina sister’s nerves. First, her elder sister had interrupted her practice and almost scared the living daylights out of her by doing so. Secondly, Zhenya had called Zina crazy (more than once, even). Then, her sister had admitted she was keeping super important things from her and now Zhenya was snapping and snarling at her when all Zinaida was trying to do was help her sister (and by extension, Nastya). It was unreasonable and unfair, and Zina was convinced she didn’t deserve the treatment she was receiving from her elder sister.

She tried to take a deep breath in and out to keep herself calm, but it wasn’t really working. “Sorry. I’m just trying to help.” Zina mumbled under her breath, though she clearly didn’t mean it at all. She wanted to turn on her sister, yell at her for her ridiculous behaviour, and tell her to go away and let her practice in peace if Zhenya intended to mope around instead of train. However, that wasn’t her. She hated arguments, hated the idea of people being angry with her, especially Zhenya. Her elder sister’s opinion meant everything to her, but now, looking at the elder athlete beside her, Zhenya wasn’t the virtuous role model that Zina’d always looked to her as.

“You met her?” Zinaida asked, with a shocked expression. She barely had time to process that Zhenya had somehow met Nastya without her knowing, when her sister said something that piqued her curiosity, especially since it seemed that Zhenya’s expression was telling her that she had said something she hadn’t been intending to. “What do you mean?” Zina scrunched her face, facing her sister with an intense look. “Why would it be Nastya’s fault?”

“A dog?!” Zina squeaked, her face lighting up for a second, before she forced a more neutral expression on her face, feeling like her excitement might not be so appreciated by her sister at that moment. “Have you seen it? Is it cute?” A reasonable question, Zina thought, in light of the fact that apparently Zhenya was gallivanting off and meeting family right under her nose. “Do you think I can see it during the holidays? What’s its name?” This dog was probably more agreeable company than her sister was at the moment. Nastya seemed like the ideal sibling now. How sweet that she’d get a dog for her sister! Zina felt that she’d get too attached and want to keep it for herself if she tried to do the same for any of her siblings.

Zhenya did have a point that it’d be weird to send a letter to the healer about her own daughter when they still lived together. “Well, her grandfather then.” Zina reiterated, running out of patience and still feeling like it was a sensible idea. It’s what she would have done if she was in Zhenya’s position, though she supposed she didn’t have all the details to really say that with certainty. “I think it would be better to intervene and have her a little bit angry at you for a while, then sit back and do nothing and let something serious occur, if that is something you really are concerned about.” Zina gazed out onto the Quidditch pitch and sighed. “You were mad that you didn’t know what you could do to help her... I think this is your best option to help. I’m sure she’d be grateful in the future.” She bit her lip and looked down at the ground. She didn’t know if that was true, it was difficult to suggest things when she had no real clue what was going on. At this point, if Zhenya shot her ideas down again, then Zina was ready to just stand up and leave her sister there alone.

Zhenya exhaled loudly as her sister told her that she was just trying to help. Zina had no idea what she was talking about and her apology didn’t sound sincere. It felt just like the defensive kind of response her younger sister made to relent when she was basically just trying to avoid an argument but not really agreeing with her.

Truth be told, Zhenya wasn’t even sure why she was reacting in such an extreme way - to almost everything. She felt on the edge and tired all the time lately and Zina pretending that there were no insurmountable problems she was facing made the older of the Shishkinas feel angry. Was she really so dumb that she could not see it? Or was Zina naive that she didn’t see all the difficulties? Or, maybe, the fact that she couldn’t openly tell her sister everything made it impossible for her younger sibling to understand the situation properly…

Everything was so messed up and Zhenya suddenly felt incredibly tired and cold. The girl shuddered when Zina inquired further after she had mentioned her meeting with Nastya. She knew it was her fault that she had said too much. She took a deep breath and nodded as her eyes filled with tears of exhaustion, frustration and helplessness.

“Yes,” she muttered, “I’ve met her.” She paused and shook her head as tears were streaming down her face. “I…” Once again she covered her face with her hands for a few seconds before trying to wipe away her tears and looking at Zina again. “I promised her I wouldn’t say anything,” she said, her voice not shrill but quiet now.

“I can show you pictures of the dog,” Zhenya offered, wondering if she had really failed to show them to Zina. The girl had intended to do so. After all, Nastya had allowed it, too. She might have been too scatterbrained to remember, though. “I meant to show them to you,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.” She failed to answer any of Zina’s other questions relating to the dog, feeling that they weren’t important anyway. She could ask Aglaya if she wanted to. After all, it seemed like Zina was writing to her behind her back. Zhenya was too tired to make this suggestion which would likely lead to more conflict anyway.

“You really think so?” Zhenya asked, wondering if, perhaps, Zina had a point. It still didn’t feel right to her to tell anyone the things Nastya had told her and her own thoughts and concerns, but maybe Zina was not so wrong. “I don’t want to betray her trust but I don’t want to be responsible if anything… worse happens.” Her voice broke off and she looked down, chewing on her lips and trying to stop herself from sobbing again.

Despite how frustrated she was with Zhenya, it was difficult to have to sit there and see her elder sister struggle so much, tearing up. Zina wanted to just wave her wand and somehow fix everything, but the one thing she had learnt from this encounter was that nothing was so simple as that. Everything seemed to have a hidden layer of context, extra complexity, extra challenge. The World wasn’t so straightforward as she once thought.

As Zhenya admitted she’d met Nastya in person, Zinaida wanted to throw a million questions at her: When? Why? Where? What did Nastya say? What did Zhenya say? However, she held her tongue, seeing that tears were rolling down her sister’s face again. The younger of the sisters hesitated for a moment, before gently laying a hand on Zhenya’s shoulders and rubbing it with her thumb, a silent gesture of support. If Nastya had asked her sister not to say anything, then as much she hated it, Zina would not press further. “Okay,” Zina began reluctantly, “I’ll respect that then… I won’t make you tell me.” Ordinarily it would have been nice to know that Zhenya was clearly a trustworthy person when it came to secrets, but now Zina hated that.

“You have pictures?!” Zina smiled brightly, glad that she was allowed to be privy to at least one thing of Zhenya and Nastya’s conversations. “It’s okay.” Zina said, genuinely this time, as Zhenya apologised for not showing them before. “Do you have them with you or…?” She was inpatient to see this dog, but not willing to walk all the way back to the common room. She had training to do, though Zhenya was eating into a very generous amount of it.

“Yes?” Zina tried to be confident, but found herself questioning her own reply anyway. She wasn’t really sure of anything, especially something she knew so little about, something that Zhenya seemed determined not to inform her on. “It’s what I would do, anyway.” She wasn’t sure if that was any comfort to Zhenya, but it was the truth. Zhenya was in a difficult position, even Zinaida could see that. She was right that it would be hard to betray Nastya, but it would be equally hard to deal with the guilt of being (potentially) directly responsible for some kind of accident or injury, or whatever this ‘worse thing’ that her elder sister was worried about, happening.

“I understand that.” Zina muttered softly after a few moments, not knowing what else to say. She was all out of advice to give. “The option is always there if you think it necessary. I know it must be a difficult decision but…” Zina trailed off, hoping her sister wouldn’t shrug her off as she wrapped her arms around Zhenya. “I trust you to make the right one.” A few days ago that would have been true, but Zina’s voice faltered at the end of her sentence, reflecting the flicker of doubt in her heart that Zhenya had created.