Lestrange

Blood in the Dirt

Dueling class proved to be just as nerve wracking as dueling against her father. Both of which had Charlie questioning if her opponent was truly attempting to kill her. Ghita was merciless in her instruction, never allowing a moment's reprieve. By the end of the session, Charlie was drenched in sweat and speckled with bruises all across her body, longing only for the comfort of her bed. She was nearly late to potions class due to her sore ankle. A injury earned from narrowly avoiding a chunk of the dueling room floor being thrown at her.

"What in Merlin's name happened to you?" Igor gasped as she shuffled into the classroom, hissing softly from the pain, before the Professor entered immediately right after her and began the lesson.

A small grimace warped her usually mute expression as she eased her way into her seat "I'm paired with Ghita for the remainder of the year. She seems to respect me now that she believes I'm a pureblood." Charlie whispered without taking her eyes off the older woman introducing herself at the head of the class, "She wanted to assess my knowledge of dueling and did everything she could to test her theory." The only reason she wasn't in the infirmary was all thanks to Balog briefly scolding Ghita for her overly aggressive approach at the start of their sparring session.

Igor winced, knowing that Ghita was among the few witches at Durmstrang who learned Zagоvory before enrolling there. "I can't believe Balog paired you with Ghita. You must be quite the duelist if he thought you could manage that," he complimented as he opened his cherished potions textbook. "Are you naturally good at everything they teach at Durmstrang?" he joked, but then he noticed Charlie staring at the board and her book with a lost expression.

The book was on the basics of potions, but to Charlie, its contents were basically written in another language. She found it utterly incomprehensible. The strange names and odd instructions baffled her, and she was reluctant even to attempt to pronounce some of the ingredients. "Why didn't my parents teach me potions?" she grumbled, turning to the next page in search of anything she could understand but was left even more confused.

"So that's why you're so ahead." Igor nodded in understanding, keeping his voice low so as not to aggravate the stern older woman who happened to be their professor. "My parents are both healers, so herbology and potions are the only things I consider myself an expert in. What else did your parents teach you?" He questioned curiously.

Charlie toyed with the edge of her page, struggling to find a response, but it felt simpler to dodge the question altogether. "I don't want to discuss my family. They don't deserve to be remembered after what they've done. That's why I fled to Durmstrang in the first place—Hogwarts would be one of the first places they'd look, and it wouldn't teach me what I needed most: how to protect others from them," she said icily, then turned to Igor. "Please, never bring up my parents again," Charlie insisted, taking a shaky breath to calm her anxious thoughts.

They had more in common than Charlie realized as Igor's sunny disposition faded as he nodded. "I understand." He swore as if making a silent vow before leaning closer, never breaking eye contact with the mysterious girl. "My father was a death eater, just like many other students who have had one or both of their parents turn dark. But, unfortunately, none of us were brave enough to renounce our family names and leave our homes like you." Igor praised as he glanced around the classroom. "We're all playing pretend compared to you."

She shook her head. "Don't give me such credit. I don't deserve it, but thank you." Charlie hummed as she returned her attention to her textbook.

Seeing her ongoing struggle, Igor felt compelled to lessen her frustration. She deserved kindness, particularly if her childhood was anything like his. "How about this: I'll assist you with Potions if you help me with Charms?" He proposed, shifting the topic to avoid letting the heavy mood persist.