Post by Teegan on Jun 19, 2018 3:13:26 GMT -5
The sun rose early that fateful morning over the little town in which the Volkovs lived. The young family had moved there about a decade before with their young son, Yuri, when his parents had decided they didn't want to raise a son in Moscow. His father, Dmitri, had found a job teaching English at a muggle college near by, and his mother, Vita, had taken a job as a cashier at a local book store that specialized in the occult. It was almost comedic, really, that these two had such normal jobs. They were, in fact, a Witch and a Wizard that had been educated at the Koldovstoretz school in Russia. They had never seen a problem mingling with the non-magical folk, as others had, and seeing as how muggles made up a majority of the world, thought it a terrible idea to hide away from them, instead deciding to live among them and lead productive lives.
Yuri had spent his childhood hearing stories about the school his parents had attended, how they played Quidditch on small, uprooted trees instead of brooms, how they used the Eagles to send their mail, unlike the barbaric Owls the westerners used. He had expected to one day wake up to a majestic Golden Eagle or even a mystical Double-Headed Eagle like on the Russian coat of arms rapping on his window, a letter clutched in its talon. However, that morning, when Yuri woke the sound of something tapping on his bedroom window, there was something else there completely. It was a small, floating, brown package. It kept bumping into the glass, as if wanting to be let in. He stared at it for a moment before he opened the window silently. The package floated, just as noiselessly, into the room and set itself down on his bed. He picked it up and examined it before he took it to his bedroom door and out into the small kitchen where his mother was busily making breakfast.
"Mama," he said still staring quizzically at the parcel, "ya sevodnya utra poluchil etot packet (This morning I received this package)." He looked up at her, his eyes wide with wonder. "Ot kovo (from whom)," she queried, leaving the eggs scrambling themselves in the pan. "Ne znayu (I don't know)," he concluded. "Ohn visyol za oknom mayom (It was hovering outside my window)," he explained. His mother took it and gave it a quick once over before she chuckled and handed it back to him. "Mozhet byt ot shkoli (Maybe from school)," she replied, almost knowingly. "Evo otkroi (open it)," she said, going back to making breakfast, adding "skazhi mnye shto ty naidyosh (tell me what you find)."
Yuri turned the package over and over, looking for the right place to start, before digging his fingers into a fold and eagerly tearing at the paper, excited to examine the contents within.
Yuri had spent his childhood hearing stories about the school his parents had attended, how they played Quidditch on small, uprooted trees instead of brooms, how they used the Eagles to send their mail, unlike the barbaric Owls the westerners used. He had expected to one day wake up to a majestic Golden Eagle or even a mystical Double-Headed Eagle like on the Russian coat of arms rapping on his window, a letter clutched in its talon. However, that morning, when Yuri woke the sound of something tapping on his bedroom window, there was something else there completely. It was a small, floating, brown package. It kept bumping into the glass, as if wanting to be let in. He stared at it for a moment before he opened the window silently. The package floated, just as noiselessly, into the room and set itself down on his bed. He picked it up and examined it before he took it to his bedroom door and out into the small kitchen where his mother was busily making breakfast.
"Mama," he said still staring quizzically at the parcel, "ya sevodnya utra poluchil etot packet (This morning I received this package)." He looked up at her, his eyes wide with wonder. "Ot kovo (from whom)," she queried, leaving the eggs scrambling themselves in the pan. "Ne znayu (I don't know)," he concluded. "Ohn visyol za oknom mayom (It was hovering outside my window)," he explained. His mother took it and gave it a quick once over before she chuckled and handed it back to him. "Mozhet byt ot shkoli (Maybe from school)," she replied, almost knowingly. "Evo otkroi (open it)," she said, going back to making breakfast, adding "skazhi mnye shto ty naidyosh (tell me what you find)."
Yuri turned the package over and over, looking for the right place to start, before digging his fingers into a fold and eagerly tearing at the paper, excited to examine the contents within.