Head First PV Closed

Dmitri sighed in frustration as he checked his progress on his DADA homework so far and discovered he still had a foot of parchment left to fill out with a detailed answer. He swore he expounded every possible detail on a Boggart and other Non-Beings--even going so far as borrowing a sixth-year textbook from a hesitant older student (that was easily remedied by the offer of one of his Mythic chocolate frog cards, which, honestly was just painful--but worth it--to lose) just to take a single paragraph of an excerpt on one of its discussions. The battered tome lay face-up on one side of the desk, piled on top of a relatively-large stack of third-year books.

It was his first homework of the year and he wanted to make a good first impression.

He has taken to spending his free periods on the second-floor study rooms the previous year as it was one of the few parts of the castle that was quiet this time of day (even the Library was rowdy--this year's crowd of First Years were mostly mouth). The other parts were outdoors--but that idea has recently been nixed considering the dangerous incidents that happened outdoors in the Hogwarts grounds. Don't get him wrong, Dmitri wanted nothing more than to spend his free time writing his essays sat on the grass near the Hogwarts Lake--however, he would be the first to avoid reckless behavior in favor of self-preservation. Who's going to make his homework for him if he died? His straight-Os weren't going to maintain themselves, now would they.

With this fact, it wasn't surprising that he would be highly miffed when thundering, eager footsteps, and a loud whoop broke the early-afternoon peace of the Second Floor.

Standing up swiftly, the Slytherin opened the door and peeked out.

Right outside was what seemed like a first-year frolicking down the corridor--hands going every which way--touching everything in sight and letting out happy exclamations here and there. The student was a bundle of unbridled energy--and it was irritating to watch. Other study room doors opened and more heads poked out of the opened doorway. Dmitri looked at each of them, imploring them silently to deal with it--he had homework he desperately wanted to come back to. But all of them just shrugged and went back inside their respective areas--seemingly unbothered.

Rolling his eyes, the third-year followed the student down the corridor he was traipsing in. 

It seems like he had to do everything himself nowadays.

He found the student--a Gryffindor, no less (figures)--just as he hopped onto a windowsill and peered down onto the courtyard below.

"Oy! You, sir! What do you think you're doing?" Dmitri called out. He’d jerk a thumb behind him—once he caught the younger boy’s attention—and raising an eyebrow, indicating the row of closed doors that were the Study Rooms. "You know what those are?"

"Here's a tip, firstie: they're study areas. Most of you will find yourself here in the coming days when you want a quiet, peaceful, relatively Gryffindor-free area to do your schoolwork." The Slytherin emphasized some words pointedly--not finding it in his stressed self to be patient with the newbie (in his state he really does not care that this student just got sorted the night before--he really just wanted to be done with his damned homework right now and maybe get a Pumpkin Pasty along the way to his dorm).

"Also," he was quick to add, "get down from there. I wouldn't want to be responsible for any accidents--there seems to be a lot of that here in this school the past couple terms." Dmitri muttered darkly.

"Oy! You, sir! What do you think you're doing?"

Dustin's head turned away from the courtyard below and his eyes caught the student addressing him. The Slytherin in question had approached him from behind. From his vantage point on the sill the third-year had a lithe build about him and was only a few inches taller than Dustin despite looking a few years older. The first thing that jumped to Dustin's mind was: “Ha. He called me sir.”

"You know what those are?"

Following the boy's gesture Dustin noted the rooms down the hall he'd just so loudly traipsed through. He quickly realized what he hadn't before: that the rooms were not only occupied, but occupied with students trying to do work. He felt only a little guilty for a moment, but didn't hear more than that as he noticed the high, vaulted ceilings. There were rafters, overhangs, and plenty of ledges to climb on. He'd have to come back when the rooms were empty and there weren't professors around.

"-Gryffindor-free area to do your schoolwork."

His attention snapped back to the older student.

"Oh right, he's talking about me," Dustin thought. Not for the first time Dustin had to remind himself that he was in Gryffindor. This would take some getting used to. He didn't particularly like the red and yellow colors, but neither did he dislike them. Well he was here now so he might as well embrace-

"Also, get down from there. I wouldn't want to be responsible for any accidents."

Dustin didn't catch the rest. He grinned wide and glanced back at the courtyard below his window, slowly realizing his position. The grass was green with no bushes or rocks to land on. The first year felt a surge of excitement like lightning through his body. The idea was planted. It was just a matter of time.

"Ah, there's only one floor below us! Anyone could make that just fine!" Dustin replied excitedly. He wondered if his magic would make the ground he landed on soft again, as it had in the muggle world. Did Hogwarts have spells preventing students from altering the ground? Dustin's eyes raked over everything he could see outside. The lake in the distance looked deep and dark, just like the forest behind that hut over there. There was so much here to explore.

He tore his eyes away from the window and turned to face the older student. Maybe he could help!

"Right so, I'm Dustin McNamara." He announced, squatting down and extending his hand to the other boy. "You're in Slytherin right? Would you happen to know any spells that can slow a person's fall?" Dustin's eyes glinted with excitement.

Dmitri might as well have been talking to a blank wall--considering how productive this conversation was turning out to be. Already, he could notice the younger student zoning out as the Slytherin lectured him about his actions.

Oh, Merlin, he thought as he observed the Gryffindor boy's eyes focusing quickly on multiple things around them--the ceiling, the rafters, the foundations--the stones bright as the afternoon sun that pierced through the large windows fell upon them. The boy seemed to be vibrating with barely restrained energy and Dmitri didn't want to be around when that was inevitably released; only Merlin knows what chaos might ensue. This boy better be kept away from the sweets around here. Sugar is the last thing this... imp needs.

The older student opted to roll his eyes as the boy let most of his words fall on deaf ears. He watched as the Gryffindor considered the school grounds below them with a curious tilt to his head.

"Ah, there's only one floor below us! Anyone could make that just fine!"

"What--" He's not considering what I think he's considering, is he? "A-Are you daft, kid?" What are they feeding these children these days? Dmitri threw his arms up in frustration. "You know what? I'm not paid to do any of this... babysitting. I'm going back to my homework."

He turned to go do just that. "Break a leg--!"  He threw over his shoulder--only to be interrupted by the boy (who--once again--wasn't listening) introducing himself out of nowhere with a hand outstretched. 

Merlin, give him strength.

"Right so, I'm Dustin McNamara." He announced, squatting down and extending his hand to the other boy. "You're in Slytherin right? Would you happen to know any spells that can slow a person's fall?"

Dmitri only stared sourly at the outstretched hand and the eager boy who owned said hand. "Dmitri Jones. Pleasure." He replied with the most sarcasm he can muster. "And yes to both questions--I am a Slytherin and I do know a spell that does just that."

He raised an eyebrow. "But see if I ever use it when a silly child decided to off themselves by jumping out of a second-floor window."

"Dmitri Jones. Pleasure."

Though Dustin was young, he wasn't an idiot. The disdain in the older boy's voice was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Dmitri clearly didn't care for Dustin one bit. He hadn't taken Dustin's hand when offered. His mother's voice came to his head, warning him to avoid people who wouldn't look you in the eye and take your hand. Dustin was immediately cautious.

"And yes to both questions--I am a Slytherin and I do know a spell that does just that."

"And that changes everything." Dustin's apprehension disappeared. Who cared that this third-year was rude to him? Suddenly there were much more important things to worry about. What was this spell that could slow someone's momentum? He knew that flying with a broom was possible, but what about without one? Surely someone had tried it before. Flying, now that was a worthy goal!

But it was a goal for another time. In the short term, Dustin had heard all he needed.

"But see if I ever use it when a silly child decided to off themselves by jumping out of a second-floor window."

"Ah here," Dustin thought, turning back around and looking out the window, "No one would be 'offed,' I can absolutely make this!"

Dustin took a step closer to the window, reaching out and grabbing the sides, leaning back and bouncing lightly on his knees. He felt free again. Free for the first time since he had tackled that muggle into the ground and almost accidentally killed him. Free for the first time to do and try anything he wanted.

He wasn't going to miss this chance. Maybe Dmitri would halt his fall. Maybe he wouldn't. Dustin just smiled, elation in his heart. He looked back at Dmitri, having tuned out the boy after he'd made up his mind.

"Well then, I guess we both have to make a choice." Dustin said, looking Dmitri directly in the eye and grinning from ear to ear.

And he leaped out the window.

To be frank, Dmitri wasn't really serious, though he might have come off as mean--which was understandable (Whose study session was interrupted? Yes. His. Point made). He only said what he said because he was absolutely certain no one was stupid enough to jump out of the castle's second-floor window. Upon closer inspection, the distance between the ground and the windowsill was approximately fifteen to twenty feet.

A straight fall would mean broken bones--several of them. Who, in their right mind, wanted that?!

Whatever happened next--Dmitri would argue--wasn't his fault. On the contrary, he gave enough of a warning to Dustin not to jump and kill himself on the actual first day of school. Technically.  He wouldn't be responsible for anybody's stupidity, would he?

"Well then, I guess we both have to make a choice." Dustin said, looking Dmitri directly in the eye and grinning from ear to ear.

"Wha--You--HUH--!" The Slytherin stuttered, utterly flabbergasted. He can't be freaking serious, can he? Dmitri watched as the younger boy turned around and drew back to prepare himself for a leap

"OY! Y-You can't be serious!" Dmitri looked around desperately for a much more respectable adult to drum some sense into the lad and prevent him from jumping to his death, but the golden-hued corridor was entirely empty--everyone was inside.

Turning back around, the only thing he'd see was a quickly disappearing head of brown hair.

FUCKFUCKWHATINMERLIN'SMOTHERF--! Dmitri frantically thought to himself as he fumbled with his wand, not quite ready to admit he was too late. The Slytherin would then yell the first spell that came to mind as he pointed his chestnut wand to where the boy disappeared from.

"Fucking--WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" He visualized the boy's clothing catching in midair, slowing his momentum.

But by the distant sound akin to a hefty bag of gravel hitting the ground, Dmitri figured he was far too late.

"What in the actual fuck!" He would stare at the windowsill for a few seconds, hands in his raven hair, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, before snapping out of his reverie and running desperately towards the stairwell, hoping to get to the boy before anybody saw.

SHITSHITSHIT. I'm not responsible for this! Please, God, don't let them expel me.