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Post by ian on Aug 27, 2011 18:52:44 GMT 1
The library was always such a quiet place, and although Ian didn't quite care for such silence, he had a Transfiguration essay due the next day and he couldn't really afford to procrastinate any further, especially when he was completely rubbish at the subject. It was one thing to actually wave one's wand and cause an object to become something else, and a completely different thing to explain the process. He had (mostly) successfully been able to turn a chair into a flamingo, but it was mostly due to luck. However, McGonagall had noticed that one of the flamingo's legs was still a wooden chair leg, and therefore due to the fact that the class had been working on it for a week she had assigned him with an essay. He was the only one in the class to have to do it, and although it was humiliating, Ian managed to take it in stride.
Now he had regretted just accepting it, as he had no idea where to even start. The library was filled with Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, but there was hardly a Slytherin ally in sight. Didn't matter anyways, as Ian was up to his neck in stacked-up books. He read each of them, but didn't seem to retain anything that was on the page. Ian sometimes wished that he had the desire to study, but it just wasn't there. Many of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs wouldn't dare to talk to him anyways, even though he was sitting in the middle of the library and was obviously struggling, just because he was a Slytherin. He felt rather alone, merely because of the prejudice that came from which House he was in. Although Ian did believe Gryffindors to be snobby (mostly due to the fact that when he had started Hogwarts, hardly any Gryffindors would speak to him), he would even take one of their help if offered.
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Post by Dimitri Mikhail Zolnerowich on Aug 27, 2011 22:31:23 GMT 1
Maybe he should've gotten someone to help him - these were just too many books to be carrying on his own. Most wizards would think Dimitri a queer one (notnotthatkindofqueer), refusing to simply levitate the books in orderly piles. Instead, he had a shoulderbag and his arms full of them as he entered the library with surprisingly stable strides.
A few weeks ago, Dim had checked out a number of books so they were available to his first-years for an essay he had assigned them. He knew how the eleven-year-olds tended to be dwarfed in the library and had decided to do them a favour (a favour he would not do his seventh-years, obviously - they ought to know how to find decent literature to back up arguments by now!). Today, he was bringing these books back. A day late. Pinch was going to fry him and feed him to the silverfish! He glanced at the desk the librarian usually occupied. Empty! Hah, perhaps he could sneak the books back on the shelves where they belonged and just leave her a note, that would be good.
It was going to be tricky if he was going to cruise through the library with all these books in his arms, though. Instead, Dimitri left the pile in his arms on a nearby, mostly empty table, his shoulder bag on the floor. Thirty-something books to put back and then sneak out before Pinch came back from her tea break, that was an interesting challenge - one Dimitri was going to rise to.
Picking up the first book of the pile, he glanced at the title before realising he had overlooked the student sitting at the table - Ian. He knew Ian, one of his seventh years - a little chaotic sometimes, but a good kid all-in-all. He looked a little out of his depth, though, and Dimitri remembered Minerva commenting on a one-pupil-essay she'd assigned to one of the Slytherin seventh years. It wasn't difficult to put one and one together.
Well, best not disturb him, though Dimitri now felt a little guilty about bringing his books back one day late. Some of them treated the joint subject of dark arts and transfiguration combined (and his essay question to the first years had been to come up with original ways of protection, which of course left a wide spectrum open for transfiguration etcetera) - a little over the first years' heads, he feared, and most had not been used because the things in there could be so abstract. Dimitri could not help but think that some of the books he was no returning might have been very useful to the Slytherin boy currently sighing over his essay..
Then again.. Ian was quite walled-in by books. First book still in hand, he weighed it a little, hesitating if he should disturb the student or not. In the end, he did, just because if he didn't, he knew he'd end up 'what if'-ing it.
Dimitri cleared his throat. "I had these checked out of the library for a week - if there's anything useful among them, feel free to take them." He smiled a half-reassuring smile at Ian, trying to give him a sense that at least his DADA teacher believed in him. Belief could go a long way, Dim thought, and belief in yourself moreso. (It was one of these words of advice he knew and told others, but hardly ever listened to himself.) Really, he would've picked out some useful titles for Ian himself, but he wasn't sure what the exact essay question was and he didn't want to pry and distract the teenager even more, so he didn't ask.
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Post by ian on Aug 28, 2011 5:16:50 GMT 1
Ian wasn't getting anywhere. He felt like everything he read just didn't stick in his brain, and he felt like the pile-up of books around himself were more for privacy than actually related to his topic. He hated feeling like he wasn't intelligent. He looked down at the desk momentarily to try to allow himself to calm down. Instead, he saw that he had left his quill on his parchment while he was attempting to read, and therefore his entire piece of parchment had a very large ink spot on it. Ian scowled and crumpled the paper up. It wasn't like there was anything written on it anyways.
Just as he was about to call it quits and just accept whatever detention McGonagall would plan for him, he heard a thud as Professor Zolnerowich dropped a bunch of books on his table. Ian cocked an eyebrow in a questionable fashion, wishing perhaps that Zolnerowich had known what his assignment was on and went out of his way to help him find reading material. It was evident after a few moments, however, that Zolnerowich had no idea that Ian was even there. Figured.
Ian was about to make a scowl-like noise in irritation that no one seemed to be aware of his existence, especially in his time of need (he didn't seem to realize that asking someone for help was an option), when he was spoken to. Ian felt admittedly a bit awkward about his previous thoughts, as if was expecting Zolnerowich to read his mind. The Professor even smiled at him, something that many didn't do, mainly because Ian wasn't a fan of school work.
"Well, unless you have anything in there about the theory behind turning a chair into a flamingo, I don't think DADA books will be helpful," Ian commented, lightly. Regardless, he scooted his chair (rather loudly, at that) across the floor to where the books were. He haphazardly pushed books around, looking for something that would grab his eye. He wasn't really one to be organized, and therefore barely even read the title before pushing a book aside. "Yeah, sir, I don't think you have what I need. Thanks anyways."
Ian then began to slowly, and again loudly, slide his chair back across the floor to his blank parchment. He did it slowly as a means of hoping that the Professor would call him back and help him out to the point of him actually understanding what was going on. However, he was just the Defense teacher. He doubted anything of the sort would truly happen, but Ian passing the course in general would take a miracle, so he was hoping for one.
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Post by Dimitri Mikhail Zolnerowich on Aug 28, 2011 21:07:02 GMT 1
Dimitri saw no reason not to smile at his student. Sure, he wasn't a perfect academic-to-be, but that was not the point - he didn't only like the pupils who were good at his subject. Ian was, perhaps, better at quidditch than he was at transfiguration, but that was no reason for Dimitri to dislike him.
"Well, unless you have anything in there about the theory behind turning a chair into a flamingo, I don't think DADA books will be helpful." Chairs into flamingoes? Dimitri resisted the urge to roll his eyes. These transfiguration assignments sometimes appeared so pointless - who ever needed a flamingo anyway? - but he knew it was the concept that counted, not the precise exercise. He watched silently as Ian briefly browsed the books on the table, hardly reading the titles, he could tell Ian was on the verge of giving up.
He squatted next to his shoulderbag and rummaged through it. "Wait, I might have.." His voice trailed off as he focused on searching. "Here we are." Smiling a little, he got up and handed Ian a small booklet. 'Lifeless Defense around Your Home.' It was obviously a dated volume and he could imagine Ian's face at laying eyes on the yellowed pages with its oldfashioned illustrations. The whole thing just screamed 1940ies.
"This thing was widely popular just before the second world war. It's all about using household objects to protect yourself," he explained, though it was probably useless information to Ian. "Granted, it was aimed at house wives to give them a sense of security in the home, but.." Flipping a few pages, he came to the section that was useful - turning to the chapter that was about turning objects into animals. "Though I wouldn't personally recommend it, this chapter is about turning household items into living things as a distraction." Indicating a diagram, he admitted: "It's not quite about chairs and flamingoes, but it does cover the most important basics - it's not so much about the outward appearance, it's about getting the skelleton and nervous system right, the rest usually follows."
As it was a booklet from the forties, directed at women, the explanations were simple and basic and probably more than easy for Ian to understand (it was a bit of an insult to women's intelligence, to be honest). Still, it covered the basics very thoroughly and although Ian wasn't one of the most studious pupils, he was bound to understand and Dim would be more than willing to offer a little help to push him in the right direction. The teacher wouldn't dictate the essay to the Slytherin, of course, but he wanted to motivate Ian, rather than see him give up.
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Post by ian on Sept 2, 2011 18:00:16 GMT 1
Ian swore he saw Professor Zolnerowich's face twitch at the mention of turning a chair into a flamingo. A corner of Ian's mouth turned up into a sort of grin, but didn't smile all of the way in case it just had been a trick of the light. Perhaps it was Ian's desire for at least one professor in this school to not be old and cranky, or at least have some remembrance of what it was like to be a student. If anyone had that ability, it was probably Zolnerowich. He wasn't as old as McGonagall, nor as creepy as Kettleburn.
Ian accepted the book from Zolnerowich and eyed it suspiciously.
"This thing?" Ian commented. He didn't even want to open it in fear of breaking it. "Are you sure this thing isn't going disintegrate in my hands? People must be right... McGonagall must come from Medieval Times."
Ian said it before he meant to. He didn't know what Zolnerowich's relationship with McGonagall was, and for all he knew, the two might be good friends. Ian gave a Zolnerowich a strange look. The guy could even potentially be McGonagall's estranged son. If he wasn't being looked at, Ian would have shook his head. No, that was impossible. No way McGongall ever had sex in her life. She was practically the equivalent of a witchcraft nun, right?
He accepted the book from Zolnerowich and looked through the pages on his own. Regardless on how it seemed to Zolnerowich, it seemed complicated for Ian. Then again, he was the type to skim over words instead of actually reading them. As terrible as it sounded, Ian was almost too lazy for comprehension. It was strange to think of such a thing considering how much the boy enjoyed Quidditch.
Ian pretended that the book was very much of help to him and then eyed the other books.
"Why do you have so many book anyways? Isn't there, like, a limit? Even for professors?"
Conversation with a Professor... this was the most desperate Ian has been to date in order to procrastinate doing his homework. Although it could be worse - Ian could be talking to Slughorn.
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Post by Dimitri Mikhail Zolnerowich on Sept 11, 2011 12:06:28 GMT 1
Dimitri was trying very hard indeed not to be old and cranky and strict. He liked being young (or, well, younger than most teachers, he was nearly thirty) and he believed that that was the main reason why he connected with most of the students so well. He just wanted to do good.
Watching Ian flip through the volume, he sat down next to him, forgetting his past-their-due-date books for a moment. He laughed a little at the teenager's comment - hardly surprised. "It won't fall apart, but I agree it can use some restauration-spells." With a slight smile at Ian, he added: "And don't go tell me that Minerva could use restauration-spells, too - that would be mean." His eyes glittered in amusement, though. He couldn't help it. It was true that MacGonagall could be a little oldfashioned at times, a little strict. Of course, Dimitri knew her better than the average student and got to see other sides than her lecture-side.
Had Dimitri known Ian was having trouble focusing and that he was just pretending that he'd gotten the gist of what this was about, he would have offered more help. He couldn't read minds, though (nor did he want to be able to), and so he didn't.
"There is a limit.." he admitted. "But I promised I'd only keep them a week, so the librarian let me." He chuckled under his breath. "It's been a few weeks now, though - she's going to kill me when she gets back from her tea break," he added, glancing over his shoulder at the empty desk where Pinch usually sat.
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