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The last words of advice Dmitry’s father had given him before he got on the train were, “Be wary of Slytherin house.” Trusting his father, Dmitry had taken those words to heart.
He was promptly sorted into Ravenclaw, just like his father before him. His mother was a Muggle, and had died when he was a toddler, so he had know clue what her opinions on Hogwarts houses would be. Dmitry was thrilled to be in Ravenclaw, knowing it would make his father proud. And he heeded his father’s advice, avoiding Slytherins at all cost.
His classmates echoed his father’s sentiments, telling stories of how Slytherins are evil and elitist. Every dark wizard was a Slytherin, that house was nothing but trouble, best to stay away from them. He heard people talk about how Gryffindors were brash and arrogant, and Hufflepuffs were pushovers. He wondered what the other houses said about Ravenclaw.
Ravenclaw and Slytherin doubled up for Herbology class, much to Dmitry’s annoyance. They tended to look down upon his visibly secondhand robes. Herbology was one of Dmitry’s least favorite classes already, and having to share it with a bunch of snarky purebloods only made it worse. Dmitry much preferred learning from books, or learning more practical forms of magic. Learning how to take care of magical plants did nothing for him.
One rainy day in October, he accidentally knocked over a pot of fluxweed and the dirt got all over a girl’s shoes. He felt his stomach twist when he glanced up at her and saw the green and silver tie. He braced himself for an insult, but instead she laughed and kneeled down beside him to help him clean it up. She had strawberry blonde hair and smelled like flowers. Dmitry got away from her as quickly as he could after cleaning up the fluxweed, and she gave him a curious look as he scrambled off.
He had thought that was that, but then she sat beside him while he was in the library studying Charms the next week. He tensed up, wondering if this was the moment she’d choose to make fun of him, but instead she held out her hand for him to shake and said, “I’m Anastasia, what’s your name?”
“Why are you talking to me?” Dmitry asked instead of answering. He was genuinely confused, and a little worried this was the lead up to some sort of prank. She withdrew her hand, but didn’t say anything. She just tilted her head at him in confusion. “I’m a half-blood,” he said.
Anastasia winced. “I don’t care about all of that. We have Herbology together and you’re always so quiet, I just wanted to see if you wanted to chat.” She looked a little hurt that Dmitry would think that of her, and he felt bad.
But still, a Slytherin. He couldn’t quite look past that tie she wore.
“I’m very focused on schoolwork, I don’t have time to chat with anyone,” he said. It wasn’t an excuse, Dmitry took school very seriously. In fact, he hadn’t actually made any friends so far. The closest he had were his dormates, who were nice, but they weren’t close. “Sorry,” he added, noticing her frown.
She didn’t try talking to him again, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Wondering about her.
****
In his fourth year, Dmitry received a letter from an owl he didn’t recognize. Normally, the only person who wrote him was his father, but this was a completely different kind to his father’s barn owl. He opened it quickly, and as he read the letter his hands started shaking so much that he knocked over a goblet of pumpkin juice. The sixth year sitting next to him yelped and stood up as the drink seeped onto the scroll she had been reading. Dmitry wasn’t paying any attention to this, however, as he had just learned that his father was dead.
He left the Great Hall quickly, not knowing where he was going. He felt a strong need to get out of there and away from people as quickly as possible. He found himself sitting under a tree by the lake, staring out at the water. He could barely remember taking himself there. He still held the letter in hands.
Dear Mr. Sudayev,
We regret to inform you of the passing of your father-
His ruminating was interrupted when someone sat next to him. It took him half a minute to even look to see who it was, and he was so numb from shock that he couldn’t even react to Anastasia’s sudden presence. She wasn’t looking at him, but out at the lake as well.
“What do you think the giant squid eats?” She asked, and he wasn’t sure if she was even asking him. It sounded as if she was just thinking aloud and he just happened to be there.
“My father died,” Dmitry said blankly. He wasn’t sure why he was telling her, he just felt like he had to say it to someone to even begin to process it.
Anastasia nodded glumly. “I read about it in the Prophet. Do you feel okay?”
“The Prophet?”
“Viktor Sudayev, an enforcer in the Beast Division of the Ministry of Magic, 43, was found dead in his home last night. He is preceded in death by his wife, Sanya, and is survived by his son, Dmitry Sudayev,” she recited. She still hadn’t looked at him.
Dmitry stared at her. He didn’t know what he thought she’d say when she sat down, but he certainly hadn’t expected this. “Did you- do you read the obituaries?”
“Every morning,” she replied. She finally looked at him. She looked sad, but not pitiful. “Do you feel okay?”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. It felt like his whole world had shifted, and it was only nine in the morning. He looked back out at the calm lake again.
“That’s okay. My parents died when I was young, I didn’t feel okay for a while after that,” she said. She talked about it so casually, and Dmitry wondered if he would ever get to that point. “Were you and your father close?”
“Yes. He’s my only family.” Dmitry felt cold, despite the uncharacteristically sunny weather.
“People will tell you it gets better, and it does. But you’ll never stop being sad or missing him, not really.” She suddenly sounded very serious. He looked at her, and she held his gaze. Dmitry felt inclined to believe what she said.
They sat there for a while longer, looking at the lake and not speaking. After maybe ten minutes, Dmitry said softly, “I didn’t know you knew my name.”
“Of course I do, Dmitry.”
Dmitry made his second friend at Hogwarts that day. Or first, if you didn’t count Professor Popov, the Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, who Dmitry looked up to quite a lot. Her name was Anastasia Romanov, but she liked to be called Anya. She had three older sisters. Her sister Maria was a sixth year and a prefect, and it was her brother Alexei’s first year at Hogwarts. They were all Slytherins, including her parents and grandparents. The Romanov family was an old and respected magical family, and it seemed to come with a lot of pressure that Anya was clearly not a fan of.
He noticed that people seemed to be whispering about them when they walked down the halls together. It must have looked out of place, Anya with her influential pureblood family spending time with some poor Ravenclaw. Anya would glare at anyone she caught gossiping, and once hexed a Slytherin fifth year for insinuating that Dmitry was lower class.
Anya flew in the face of everything he had ever been told about Slytherins. She was funny, kind, brave, and loyal. She wasn’t a snob in the slightest, and wasn’t bothered by the fact that everything Dmitry owned was a hand me down or that he wasn’t a pureblood Slytherin like her. Herbology class became a lot more fun with her as his friend.
Anya had a way of pushing Dmitry out of his shell, getting him to leave his studying to go out and go on adventures. They went to Hogsmeade together, and spent afternoons drinking Butterbeer by the fire. He started going to Quidditch games, which had previously been of little interest to him, because Anya was the Slytherin team’s Seeker and he wanted to support her.
Anya was the only person that Dmitry was willing to discuss his parents with, and she was the only one who really understood what he was dealing with. Sometimes they would sit and not talk for hours, Anya understanding that there were days he didn’t feel up to talking. And other days they would walk around the school grounds, swapping stories about their childhoods.
****
“Diiiii-ma!” Anya called to him in a sing-songy voice.. It was their fifth year, and Dmitry was busy studying for his O.W.L.s. He looked up from his books to see her leaning against his table, her long strawberry blonde hair brushing against the parchment paper.
“How did you get into the common room?” Dmitry glanced around to see if anyone was looking at Anya, but no one was. He wasn’t even sure if she was allowed to be in there.
She flopped down at the armchair near his table. “Solved the riddle. It wasn’t even that hard. They really ought to think about using a password instead, it’s much more secure.” Dmitry smiled wryly at her.
“Do you need something? I’m trying to study for Transfiguration, you know Vaganov is known for his difficult essay questions.”
She sat up in the armchair and leaned forward with her chin in her hands. “There’s a party tonight in Gryffindor tower. They’re celebrating their win against Hufflepuff. Care to join me?”
“Why do you want to celebrate Gryffindor’s win against Hufflepuff? That just means you’re up against Gryffindor in the final.”
She grinned at him. “So you do pay attention to our games. And I like a good party, no matter what the occasion is. C’mon, Sudayev, it’ll be fun. You’re familiar with fun?”
Dmitry bit his lip. “I have to study, Anya.”
“Dmitry, please. You’re probably the smartest in our year, you’re going to kill those essay questions. Professor Vaganov won’t even know what hit him.” She stood up from her armchair and leaned against his chair, wrapping her arms around him and successfully distracting him from his books. She still smelled like flowers.
“I can take a break… I suppose.” Anya laughed gleefully, dragging him by the hand all the way to Gryffindor tower. The party there was in full swing, and no one seemed to notice that a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw had crashed it. Anya made him dance with her, and he tried his best not to step on her feet. He failed, of course, but she just laughed and tried her best to redirect him. Dmitry walked her back to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons feeling lighter than he had all year. The O.W.L. exams must have been causing him more stress than he realized.
****
In his sixth year, Dmitry tripped rushing up a staircase on his way to the hospital wing. The really embarrassing fact about this was that it was a completely ordinary staircase, one of the few at Hogwarts that didn’t move or have false steps, and a group of observing third years laughed at him. Dmitry paid them no mind, as a few minutes previously he had watched a bludger knock his best friend off of her broom. When he got to the hospital wing, Anya was sitting up in her bed and surrounded by her fellow teammates. She smiled widely when she saw him, and waved the Slytherins off.
“I can’t believe they postponed the game!” She complained.
“Anya,” he said exasperatingly. “You broke two bones and got a concussion.”
She just rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, I could’ve caught the snitch with my other hand.”
He pulled up a chair beside her bed and sat down, shaking his head at her. “Your dedication to Quidditch is ridiculous. You are ridiculous.”
“Yeah, but you love me.” She laughed. He did, but he could never tell her that.
“If only you’d take other parts of school this seriously.”
“Oh, don’t start. I got four Outstandings last year, Dima! You’re just jealous because I don’t need to study as much as you,” she teased.
“I happen to like studying,” he replied.
She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, “You should be a teacher. You like books and you’re always so helpful when I have a hard time studying. And I’ve seen you in the library helping out other students. I think you’d be good at it.” He wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.
So he made a joke instead, because being serious about his future was difficult. “You should consider a career in falling off your broom, you’re actually quite graceful about it.” She gently punched him with her non-broken hand and laughed.
“Graceful, am I?” She smirked.
“Like a sinking boat.”
****
Anya leaned her head on Dmitry’s shoulder as she fell asleep, and Dmitry felt his heart stop for a moment. They were in the Ravenclaw common room, which she had a habit of sneaking into, trying to study for their N.E.W.T. exams. Dmitry’s whole body tensed, not knowing how to act. Dmitry had never been great with physical contact, and he was even worse when it came to Anya. His brain seemed to short circuit every time she hugged him or leaned on him or held his hand, all of which she also had a habit of doing.
He glanced at the clock, finally realizing how late it had gotten. He started at it for a few minutes more, watching the hands tick, before deciding that he should wake Anya up. “Anya. Anya.”
She slowly blinked her eyes open and squinted at him. “I was having a very peaceful nap, Dima.”
She was awake, but she was still resting her head on his shoulder.
“It’s one in the morning, Anya. Time for bed.”
Anya grumbled and shifted closer to Dmitry, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and nearly knocking his Charms textbook out of his hands. Dmitry really hoped his erratic heartbeat wasn’t as loud to her as it was to him.
“Anya,” he said again. “We have classes tomorrow, and sleep is important.”
“I like it here. It’s warm.”
“I’m glad to hear you find my shoulder comfortable, but I also need to head up to bed, and I’m afraid it’s attached to me.”
She pulled away a little and looked up at him. “You’re warm.” He wasn’t sure what her tone was, and he had no idea how to interpret that.
He just stared at her for a few moments, his brain working slower in his tiredness. “If you’re exhausted in Arithmancy tomorrow, it’s entirely your fault.”
“Dmitry,” she said seriously. “Can I ask you something?”
He almost wanted to say no, but he could never really say no to Anya. “Sure.”
“Do you like anyone?”
Dmitry could feel his brain short circuiting. “Wha- Anya?”
She continued to look at him. “We’ve never really talked about this sort of thing before. I just… I want to know.”
He hated lying to her, but he also knew there was no way he could tell her that it was her he liked. She was his best friend, and had been since they were fourteen. He could never do anything to jeopardize that. So he simply shook his head.
“Oh. Good,” she said quietly, and went back to leaning her head on his shoulder. Good?
“Good?”
She nodded against him. “Good. Because I rather like you. I’d hate to have competition, you know how I get.”
Since there was no way he heard that correctly, Dmitry simply said, “What.”
Anya laughed and pulled away from him. He already missed her closeness. “Dima. Merlin’s Beard, I’ve been waiting for you to notice since we were eleven.”
His eyes widened and he stared at her. “You- Anya, this whole time?” She nodded again.
“Can I ask you a question?” He asked.
“That was a question.”
“Anya, please,” he laughed exasperatingly. It was far too late at night for this.
“Ask me anything.”
“Can I kiss you?”
She grinned at him and, without answering or saying another word, grabbed his face and pulled him down to kiss her. Minutes later, he had to begrudgingly push her away to remind her of the time again. He walked her back to her common room, hands intertwined the whole way, and he walked back to his own common room with a new spring in his step.
They sat by the lake after their last exam, basking in the warm weather. Dmitry leaned against a great oak tree, and Anya leaned against him with his arm around her shoulders.
“This is where we first met,” Anya said.
“Actually, that was when I spilled dirt and fluxweed all over you in our first year.”
Anya laughed and wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t count! You refused to talk to me until fourth year. You were scared of me.”
“I was not scared of you.”
“Ha! Liar. You practically ran away from me that day in Herbology.”
“I was scared of Slytherins,” he said honestly, and embarrassed to admit it. “My father said to be wary of Slytherins, I thought you were all scary.”
“Do you know what they tell us about Ravenclaw?”
“No. What?”
“That you’re all rubbish at exploding snap.”
Dmitry laughed. “You beat me one time .”
“We only played one time!” She elbowed him playfully. “You refused to play again after that. You’re such a sore loser, I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Says the girl who turned all of the Gryffindor team’s Quidditch robes lime green after they won the cup in sixth year.”
“I’m rambunctious,” she said. “It’s charming.”
“I think the word Professors use is ‘insubordinate’, actually.” Dmitry couldn’t keep track of the amount of detentions she had gotten them into over the years.
“You love me.”
“I do,” he agreed.