Weekends were the best of times. Zviad had taken the opportunity to visit Döttrar Vik and get some supplies to make his life at Durmstrang a little less upsetting. He had not expected it to be quite so annoying to repeat his seventh year. He wondered if it would not have been just as good to simply drop out of school after missing too much time last spring to be able to pass the exams. He had his O.W.L.s, what did he need N.E.W.T.s for? He was not going to apply at a Ministry, a healing school or any place that would require academic achievements from him. Then again, he didn’t yet know what he would be doing after school and he wanted to keep all options even if he could rule out some already now. He wanted to make something of his life anyway although probably barely anyone believed he would or could.
His relationship with school was clearly a love-hate relationship. Zviad liked to learn new things, he was glad to have the Durmstrang library to do some research on things that were of interest to him. He did not, however, enjoy all classes – particularly not those that had nothing to do with the Koldovstoretz classes he had had during his first years of magical education. He had only come to Durmstrang during the merge, after all, and had decided to stay on because… well, because he thought that he had a chance to better his reputation at a new school. It hadn’t really worked, though, as he just couldn’t completely change who he was. Yet, he was a better guy now than he had been or so he thought. Only that without the direct comparison it was hard for anyone to notice.
He had spent some time at the harbour, trying to get some booze and something good to smoke and had now stored two bottles of firewhiskey, a couple of packs of common cigarettes and some weed in the various inside pockets of his old, worn out coat. Some of these pockets were magically protected but the two big ones in which he had put the bottles were not. So far Zviad had a rather good quota when it came to smuggling stuff inside the school. In fact, he usually placed some cigarettes in the grounds upon his return from Döttrar Vik - just to be safe.
He thought that the day was going rather well so far. He might even have something to sell to some kids which would make his efforts worthwhile. After all, the boy had not obtained all his goods legally - thanks to being a magpie animagus. While his landing skills in his animagus shape were still not great he could by now do it without hurting himself too much (few light bruises hardly counted nowadays). He had altered his technique so far that he just slowed down his flight and let himself crash on the ground from a small height now. It wasn’t ideal but it was sufficient for his trips to Döttrar Vik anyway. He was still hoping to improve his skills but, by now, he was at least good enough to steal a pack of cigarettes here or there and get it to a safe place where he could retransform into his human shape. Today he had even stolen some goods from a ship and felt quite accomplished and satisfied because of that.
As he walked back to the school building he felt cold. It was a clear day but freezing cold anyway. Nevertheless, the boy stopped by an old tree, looked around carefully before shoving one pack of cigarettes deep down a knothole. Then he retrieved a cigarette from another pack and lit it with his wand. He leaned against the tree, putting one foot against its rough trunk and blowing smoke into the air. As he saw a figure approaching him, he kicked himself off and made a few steps away from the tree and towards the school building, not wanting to attract unwanted attention to his secret place.
As the other student drew closer, Zviad rolled his eyes. It was the tsar from Drakonya Krov. That certainly meant trouble. However, the Georgian had reached a stage where he did not really care much about getting in trouble anymore. He blew some smoke in the air and smirked. “What brings you out here, Dörfler?†he asked, not even attempting to hide the cigarette he was smoking.
@Jürgen Dörfler
