patil son.

Ana threw herself onto the seat next to him sinking back as she rummaged in her pocket for the right change. “I would have thought most people would jump on a free drink and a friend who just wants to let loose. If you don’t want a drink you don’t have to have one. It’s up to you dude. I’m sure that there are plenty of people in this bar who I can hangout with instead.”

She gestured around the bar in an attempt to make her point but it was pretty empty and she had chosen Asher because he was one of the few people alone. 

“Two vodkas it is then,” she ordered hanging over the coins she had dug out of her pockets and slamming them on the bar.

She normally hated it when people tried to have a conversation with her and she wasn’t in the mood but today she was the one making the first move in reaching out to a stranger. She hoped she wasn’t becoming one of those people who invaded personal space and were annoyingly happy. Still, with her money problems solved for now and feeling might lighter and happier she didn’t think she was doing anything too wrong.

“You a silent drinking or do you want to tell me why you’re so miserable?”

asher took a second to scan the bar, looking over at the lady with a raised brow at the sight in front of them. her attempt to make it seem as if she had ‘other friends’ around was just an empty testimony. he opened his mouth in preparation for a response but stopped it at the order of the drinks, wincing just slightly at the slam of the coins on the bar. 

“thank you.” he simply said, pushing the now empty glass of vodka in between his hands, moving it into a circular motion. he shrugged and looked over at her with another raise of a brow. “i wouldn’t be telling people about my miserable life in this bar to strangers would i? it wouldn’t --” he paused, for the first time realising that he was slacking in his thoughts. -- this woman didn’t need to know his name. he could simply spill everything and it wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

“the stupid england ban is what is making me miserable.” he admitted, looking over at the lady. “russia is so much more well organised than this place.” 

     “Ah, yes I remember now.” nodding his head, “But honestly I always saw you more Russian than anything…perhaps I just didn’t put two and two together.” Frankly things like speech and accents really went from being a thing to not realized at all by Nash. His family was bilingual, having two sets of family in two very different nations and cultures—most likely the same for Asher. However what was different was Nash just saw people more than just speech. In Durmstrang he often encounter many languages, accents, and slang words that as he grew it felt natural. Although what felt unnatural was the way Asher still held this uncomfortable energy over him. As if he was an adult lecturing him, that palpable feeling that just made the young wizard feel weak around him. 

     Adding insult to injury, that energy shifted from anxious to awkward within moments. “Good one, are you fucking daft?” he mentally cursed himself, before juggling his words careful. You could see it in Nash’s eyes, a glint of fear that washed over into embarrassment as it trickled down the rest of him. “Oh, you know always nice to, uh” his juggling was going poorly, “good to keep tabs on others. It’s not j-just you, like um—” his mind raced between the memories of his childhood, slotting and categorizing any name that the other might know. “Ingrid Weber is doing her book tour in France now. Lovely girl.” You could tell Nash was trying to sway this conversation anywhere that was away from him. Not to mention trying to take the pressure off of himself—as his cheeks weren’t quite flushed, but the heat that was his humiliating demeanor were beginning to bring him to that point.

                  —Luckily the conversation switched to Asher.

    “Congrats. What department?” deflecting the focus off of him, “My mother actually…She works for the Ministry too, along with some family I have here…figured after what happened during the cup, best stay close for a bit until the bans settle down.” 

asher looked him over with a furrowed brow, a light scoff coming out at the thought. he always thought of him as russian. -- that was funny, mostly cause despite identifying as more russian than indian, that’s all the students in school saw. it wasn’t ‘the russian’ it was ‘the angry indian’. a small smile creeped on his face, something that he didn’t really like doing often. “you should know i don’t like being told things that aren’t true, so i hope you’re telling the truth.” he warned the other. “but if it were so, -- thank you. you know that not many people from our school thought so. a whole bunch of ignorant racist.” he simply stated with a nod.

his stony face returned as the man started to stammer on his words. internally, to be quite frank, he was having a little too much fun watching him nervously try to come up with an excuse for his apparently stalking tendencies. he didn’t mind it though, knowing that the boy man did for a bit admire his work, but that wasn’t going to make asher stop him from trying to think of an excuse. he nodded his head, knowing for a fact that ingrid geber was not in france anymore, but rather in italy now, but he didn’t correct him there. “that’s good for ingrid. -- you should wipe your face a bit, you look like you may be sweating.” he commented blankly, a bit of a joke though he wasn’t going to grace the man with the tone, just yet.

“unspeakable.” he answered, raising a brow at the man when he referred to his mother. rather than asking on, he started to walk, hoping the man will follow. “do you have anything planned right now, carrow? -- care for some tea?” he asked, the thought that he was being more british came to head. “i was on to do business, but i barely have any friends here in england.” he admitted. 

Drinkin’ hard [ ANA & ASHER ]

Ana had been making more money in the last weeks that she ever had in her entire life. She was using the enchanted ring she had won to scam as many people as she could. As a result she was finally able to live the life she had always dreamed and spend money where she wanted without having to worry. It wasn’t like she could afford to buy a house or something but it was enough that she could splurge a little. Especially on alcohol.

“A drink for me and one for my friend here,” she said clamping her chosen company for the night on the shoulder. It didn’t matter if she knew them or not she was going to have a good time and if they were getting a free drink out of it she was sure they’d play along.

She took a seat on the bar stool, smiling unusually brightly. Not having to worry about money had taken a weight off her mind. “What are you drinking?”

asher needed some time to himself. ironically, instead of doing something nice like going back to his home and play a game of wizard chess with his cousin, he found himself in a bar cooped up with other people. the only thing stopping him from standing up was the glass in his hand, and the music that reminded him just a little bit of his mother. -- maybe it was the alcohol talking.

he stilled at the touch on his shoulder and slowly looked over at the woman who looked too cheeky for her own good. “friend?” he asked inquisitively and turned his attention towards her as she spoke. “why in the gates of morgana’s lair are you offering to buy me a drink? -- and calling me a friend?” he asked the woman with narrowed eyes. he lifted up his drink to his lips and took a sip, the clear color being ambiguious for the other to really figure out what it was. 

to his luck, the sip lead to ice touching the man’s lips, implying that he was done with his drink. “vodka.” he decided to answer a few seconds later. if she wanted to pay for it, she can, if not, he had a few coins left in his pocket.

    “Well they can kiss my ass for all I care.” he offhandedly replied, not looking at whom spoke to him. It was a split second reaction, not something he would normally say, yet as quickly as he replied he heard his last name causing him to look over. “Asher?” confusion traced in his breath. “W-what are you?” he was practically speechless, but mustered a weak grin shortly after. The man before him, even as a teenager, had a demeanor that demanded you to take it in. Most Durmstrang students, now alumnus, had varying degrees of intimidation. Nash always chalked it up to the countries they came from and the curriculum, however with him it always felt like something more. His features seemed to be the same as well; just more mature. His strong jaw to the way his lips were etched straightly across his face—stony and cold like the gargoyles that hung from their castle back home. Although his accent was substituted with an English spin, replacing his huskier tone that fell from his lips smoothly. 

    Gaining some of his composure, letting the anger drain from his mind, he turned to speak longer with his old friend. “Tell me about it, if it wasn’t for family here…I’d never return.” shaking his head, “But what are you doing here? I thought you were still traveling around back in Russia…” not like he was keeping tabs on him, at least heavily, but it was nice to knowing what the people that impacted you once are doing in life—right?

asher huffed softly in an amusement to the man’s whole body reaction to his presence. a part of him forgot how the other acted around him, though he honestly couldn’t recall when was the last time he had seen the other since his graduation from their school. he looked the man over, getting just a brief intake of how the man had grown before being pulled back into reality. “ -- what?” he blinked, a bit taken back. “what kind of question is that, carrow?” he asked with narrowed eyes. “i’m russian and indian, i could’ve sworn we went over this when we were children.” he scoffed, running his fingers through his hair.

the man took his gaze away from the man, regret washing over him for his decision to talk to the younger male. he begun his search for the office that he initially were supposed to go to, spotting the hallway that would lead to it. “i’m sorry i really --” he stopped, his gaze quickly moving back to the other. “how did you know i was traveling around russia?” a smirk formed before he could even stop the look of delight from his face. “i don’t remember us having friends in the same circles.” he pointed out with a raised brow. 

“i was hired by the ministry.” he begun his answer before the other could respond back to him. “and it is one of my biggest mistakes.” he said in a matter of fact manner. “the ministry kept tabs on my work back home and they send someone to get me. what are you doing here --” he paused a beat, a thought striking him. “-- carrow?” 

    There was a relief in the air, you could feel it as you walked through London. The tragedy at Hogwarts crippled the ministry and the streets they were suppose to protect; seizing up any trust and safety that was left. However a silver lining, thin and drawn out as it was had came, as the news spread of the lockdown being lifted. Sadly though the security that the attack forced upon everyone hadn’t, as Nash was surround by two workers trying to calm him down. “knulle dette og alle sammen” cursing in his own language. It was mainly to blow off some steam, but the travel ban was finicky at best…where some weeks it was simple to get by but others absolutely locked out. “I have meetings to get to back home, how do you expect me to get there?” the Ministry works gave an unsympathetic look just before he dismissed himself, putting his paper work into his jacket pocket, letting them go back to whatever they were doing. “I swear even if I fly all the way there, I wouldn’t make it.”  

open starter.

with the news of the ministry’s son, asher’s friend, being the reason behind the attacks that was put upon the hogwarts residence, the positive outcome overpowered the negative outcome for the indian russian. it was horrible for fin to go through what he had to go through and having to be locked up for his deeds, but asher was just glad to be out of that dungeon. the people, the atmosphere, the smells, were just too much for the man, that he himself almost went crazy. after a well needed shower, the man went to the first place that he felt like he needed to go. -- to the ministry to file a complaint. what kind of imbecile organization locks up their own employees and go down one by one to just let the attacker keep going. 

asher was prepared to give them an earful, though upon arrival via floo powder, he was left seeing a man that he didn’t think he’d see for a least a while, really going at it with the workers. he raised a brow at the sight and approached the man as he continued to talk to himself. “the british aren’t very keen to hear other foreign languages.” he spoke out when he was within hearing distance. “and you should’ve done research before even setting foot in this stupid country.” he dug his hands into his cloak pockets. “carrow.” he nodded.

Wands? Why was he talking about wands?

Marius closed his eyes; the most vivid memory he had of the World Cup was of the flames that surrounded him in a fiery tornado. The Russian wand had been powerful, and Marius felt his hands twitch at the thought of escaping Avery. The castle was made of brick, but its doors made of wood…

“Of course, your Ministry fucking sucks – you’re the fucking idiots who let the murderer of my fiancée go free – don’t you have better shit to do than pretend that you’re actually here for something useful? Besides – some wand you had! It did nothing against vampires. Tell your Konstantine to shove his wands up his arse!”

He hadn’t opened his eyes yet: he was in near total darkness that it didn’t matter anyway. Please, he begged, but the desperation was making his hands grow cold again. He sighed deeply, pressing his palms to the wood – what the fuck did this asshole want, other than to brag about Marius behind a closed door?

“You wouldn’t be able to take me on, even with a wand,” Marius jeered. “And you weren’t the one who caught me – I’m sure you’ll find your man with a tail between his legs, licking his wounds like a fucking dog!”

asher took a step back and looked the door over, almost as if the door was that man he was talking to, though he wasn’t in the mood to see the man. -- he probably looked like a mess and are there even showers or running water in the dungeon. “so much anger from a man who is supposed to emulate grace and class. aren’t you from both an old family and veela heritage?” he shrugged. “my ministry is your ministry, mister lestrange. -- maybe moreso your ministry than mines. russia doesn’t listen to these silly rules that the ministry has implemented.” he pointed out. 

he smirked and leaned at the little window, as if he could really see the man that could be up against the moment. “is that supposed to taunting me to grab a wand and duel with you? -- you may be able to fool some idiot, but that won’t work with me.” he snickered. “if i wanted to duel anyways, it wouldn’t be in this little dungeon. it’s not fair on both accounts.” he explained. 

Scorpius left a neutral expression on his face, though he found the response quite amusing. He didn’t expect a whole story out of the simple question, but he found entertainment in the slight questioning look that appeared before his common blank stare was re-applied. Scorpius gave a slight hum as if he was considering the question before him, before looking back at Asher, “See that would depend on who you ask. Mine change every other day, better or worse depending on the people who bother me, so I would assume yours change as much as mine. After all, why would I bother asking how your shift was, if I assume it’s the same as everyone else’s every day?”

Scorpius cleared his throat, before turning his head into his elbow coughing harshly. He was going through the very beginning stages of the epidemic, and he had decided that going to work today would be a good idea. After fainting while walking with Julian, he realized it wasn’t but he still had to do his paper work for the day before being able to end his shift and go home and deal with his illness there. “What I’m trying to say is, yes. I’m asking you about your shift Morozov.”

Asher huffed with furrowed brows at the other, as yet again, he took him by surprised with this apparent belief that every day and every shift was going to be different in a way. Did this man really think that a day would get better when all their job asked them to do were to walk up and down the halls and patrol as if they were still student prefects? There had been countless times where the man thought about how this job patrolling the school wasn’t part of his profession. -- It didn’t even matter than he was getting paid a lot for this, he still wasn’t happy.

“If someone routinely works the same shift, walking up and down the hall, then the answer would be just the same, wouldn’t it, mister Malfoy? it doesn’t even matter if someone bothered you or not.” He paused and looked over at the man’s elbow, glazed just a bit from what he assumed as parts of the cough. Reminder, don’t touch him there. “I don’t know who are upsetting you or making your day great, but with a shift like ours, it’s -- it’s typical constant. Its the feeling of -- boredom. Is that the right word?” He questioned.

His eyes hovered onto the man’s elbow again and he groaned, digging into his cloak to pull out a little handkerchief that he always carried around. He stopped at a thought and looked the man over, a smirk forming on his lips. “Unless you are fawning over someone that you see everyone once in a while.” He said, recalling a few run ins they have during their shifts. He hands the handkerchief to the man and gave him an amused look. “You know, misder Malfoy, if you have a crush, all you have do do is say id.” He smirked. “Ve’re all adulds here. Zough you really aren’t my dybe. I brefer my men do be a bid more -- daller.”

What relationship do you have with Julian Wood?

“zere is no real relationship betveen me and mister vood.” he paused and frowned at his natural accent. “ze -- ze --” he stopped again and sighed, ignoring the fact that he can’t speak in his english accent anymore. “i vork for mister vood under ze orders of ze ministry. i help guard vith vood being our supervisor. i don’d know vhy zey chose him, but i’ll make do.”

What was your last interaction with him?

“my lasd inderaction vith him g’an amound do aboud den minudes a few days ago. i gave him my repord aboud my shifts here in eta glupaya shkola.” he spat a bit in annoyance. he definitely wasn’t happy about working in the school and he never hid that thought. “he didn’d seem so happy do see me, and alziough i don’d really gare, i zink he is weary of my heridage.” he shrugged at the thought. 

What possible motive do you have to carry out this attack?

”vell if accepdable is a bad score for vhat he has given me, i guess zat vould be a motive, zough i still have yed do figure oud vat grade zat is in zis british system.” he spoke in a ‘matter of fact’ manner. “zough besides zat, i don’d have much unless i suspecded him do be behind ze attacks on wizards and witches at ze bast few events ve had here in england.”

If you were to attack Julian, how would you do so?

”i vould vait for him to be by himself and strike. brobably have him bound, get answers from him, and if zey vere ansvers that broved that he was a zreat do magical beople, then i vould’ve killed him.” he answered nonchalantly. 

Name one (or several) reasons why you should not be chosen as a suspect in this investigation. What is your alibi?

“you vould be losing a berson vho vould look bast bersonal feelings to get answers, answers zat many people here may be afraid of.” his tone started to move back to its bored sound, as if what he is saying will be enough to get him out. “i vas finishing a durkey leg on ze vay to vood’s office to ask him about my score. -- could i know vhat acceptable is vhen zis inderrogation is over?”

Who do you think attacked him and why?

“zat korean man who hates vood. i’ve met ze man and i find him quite -- pleasand, bud him and vood ged along like my father and a snobby american.” he smirked. 

What do you think should be the Ministry’s next course of action, once the culprit has been found?

“i am not one do say. ze person vho should be ansvering that is vood vhen he recovers.” he paused. “but if i vere in vood’s shoes, i’d ask do bersonally gill the man vho attacked me. it seemed like vood had no vay to defend himself and if someone attacked me vith my back turned, i’d vand blood.” 

Rumors of a vigilante group has come to light after the shut down of the school. Will you be involved? Why or why not?

“i vould gonsider id. id sure vould be a lod more fun zan padrolling ze school all ze dime, and it’d pud more of my own specialidies on ze dable.” 

What is the purpose of this new group?

“you dell me. i don’d know anyzing aboud zis groub. i’m assuming zey kill or capdure zos vho mean harm do ze studends of hogwards.”

Who do you think should lead this new group?

he shrugged. “i guess someone vho is just. -- i’d say me, but zat is asking for do much.” 

… employed a few foreign employees over the years, without so much as a background check … Asher Morrozov uses Dark Magic, and it makes you wonder why the Ministry thinks they’d need someone like him! 

Did the writer forget to mention that he was an unspeakable? That part of his job was classified? He bit his bottom lip and grinned to himself, a chuckle following right after. This. was. hilarious. if this Cho Chang (why did that name seem familiar) were to really write this article about his use of dark magic, shouldn’t she also be writing about a few professors at Hogwarts who happened to have attended Durmstrang? They as well have used dark magic in their times in the institute. By choice or force.  

Knowledge of the dark arts wasn’t bad. That was one thing that Asher didn’t understand about when it came to the Ministry; why was it taboo to know the dark arts when knowledge was power. It was just one evil man – or maybe a few evil men that tainted the talks about dark arts, but did all wizards and witches think they’re the cleanest for not learning the dark arts? 

He rolled his eyes at the thought. Hexes and jinxes were as much of dark magic as the unforgivable curses. All wizards and witches learned that magic when they were eleven.

The dark arts and magic was only really negative when used in methods that were inhumane. asher knew that, and with his line of work, he knew when it was appropriate to use that type of magic. he never let his anger cloud his judgement, something he learned from his father, and realistically, if he actually were to use magic in the same terms as voldemort, his mother would’ve put him in check. he had enough smacks on the butt and scars from both his parents to put him in the right place.

He huffed at the thoughts, eyeing a fading scar on his left arm. If they had know how strict his mother has been about the dark arts, would they still have released the article? His mother was a beautiful and brave woman, but even her son couldn’t avoid any punishment that she had given him when he chose to use dark magic for the wrong reasons.

Dungeons no Dragons: [ Asher | Marius ]

The castle was kind enough to have provided Marius with his own private room, but he had very evidently overstayed his welcome. Only Colette had written him, with no other contact from anyone else, including that damn coward Scorpius. He didn’t trust Colette to get him out, not because she was married to Avery, but because he doubted her abilities to get the fucking job done.

Marius’s attempts at an escape would only prove to be fruitless, as his shoulder collided ungracefully with the wooden door of the dungeon. He cursed loudly, not realizing that there was someone else just outside his door trying to start an actual conversation with him. He slid to the floor, his arm gripping the bruising shoulder with as much pressure as he could muster.

“What the fuck do you want?” he growled. Smart choice of words from someone who’s only just now, after several days of being held hostage, finally interacting with an actual human being. He didn’t recognize who the speaker was, and he sure as hell didn’t know that they had met before. Marius was beginning not to give a fuck about much; the question of finding justice for Beatrice would go long unanswered, for now.

with the knowledge that the man really couldn’t fully see him, he covered his mouth with a fist with a chuckle. serves him right to be an idiot. he shrugged and walked over to the little window and looked over at the man as he sat there clutching onto his arm, which he assumed had collided with the door. “did you really think your -- whatever blood you have will be enough to break through the door, mr. lestrange?” he asked smugly. 

he shrugged and leaned against the door as he mimed as if he were thinking. “i think i really want my wand back, but i don’t think that is possibly anymore. -- i’d imagine you disposed of it already or lost it. thank you for that. that was my favorite wand.” he pulled out his wand and sighed. “Konstantinov is a brilliant wandmaker and I had to resort to getting a wand here from -- what is his name? Ollisander?” he pursed his lips. 

Dungeons no Dragons: { at Hogwarts }

The charm had been lifted and Marius was no longer petrified. He wasn’t exactly sure how long that had been the case. The most he knew of where Scorpius had taken him was based on a view of the sky, some trees, and some high ceilings with dim lighting. Marius was aware, just from the architecture and the time required for Scorpius to put him in his final place, that he was in a castle.

He fell asleep at some point, perhaps exhausted from fighting Scorpius earlier in addition to trying to break out of the charm that locked his limbs in place. Most of his days – if he could call it days – was in a cycle of sleeping and waking and devouring whatever disgusting food they decided go leave him. That was his only sign that anyone was actually aware that he was here.

Marius couldn’t help but hope that one of his siblings would get him eventually but miracles like that don’t happen so easily; he should have known that by now, and perhaps thought long and hard about trying to burn his brother alive.

Today was one of the days Marius thought himself recovered enough that no longer needed hope. He stepped back as far as he could and bolted at the door with as much speed and force as his body could carry.

word had spread around about the lestrange boy getting himself into trouble and now was locked up in the hogwarts dungeons. when the news finally hit asher, all he could do was chuckle and smirk at himself. that boy finally got caught doing all the dumb crap he has been doing. he bitterly looked down at his olivander wand and sneer at the thought that his wand, an expensive gift from his father, was taken away from that dumb kid. it didn’t even matter that their ages were close, he still was allowed to call him a kid for the deeds he has done.

on his shift today, as he made his rounds, he decided to maybe pay a visit to hogwarts’ most important visitor of them all. as he made his turns towards the dungeon he heard the sound of running and that earned the sound a roll of eyes. “you won’t get anywhere if you tried. -- you seriously think that someplace like this will allow you to go through easily.” he called out to the perosn who was running. he wasn’t sure if it was marius who was the idiot who thought they’d get away, or if there was other prisoners, but they were dumb to think so.