The Other Other Brother PV Aleksander Panchev Closed

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Aleksandar was growing restless.

With the month already being halfway over, he had realised that he had barely gotten anywhere. The information he had so far was not nearly as much as he wanted to start his approach. He needed just a little more, that last piece of the puzzle needed to be able to make out the picture. He was almost there, he could feel it in the air, but he needed for something to happen so he could finally...

Maybe he should have just made his approach. How hard could it be? Trying to gather as much information as he could proved to be straining in such a short amount of time, and it was not like he needed the kid for much. A couple of quick conversations should really be more than enough.

Except, his chance for that last puzzle piece arrived at breakfast in the early morning, dressed in clothes he should not have even been wearing to bed. Aleksandar would have liked to call his attire casual but he could not bring himself to it. The colours on his T-Shirt made Aleksandar squint, the strange ying and yang symbol he wore for pants was almost insulting to one's eyes. Still, he appreciated the boy's approach, felt delighted even. He recognised him, if only from last night's campfire; The boy with the instrument, the one who had started the impromptu sing along. Aleksandar had spotted someone around him before, the face he had been looking for. Classmates, maybe. Friends, perhaps. Either way, worth a conversation.

"There are no seating arrangements," he told the boy as he reached for his orange juice to take a sip. "Do feel free to sit wherever you would like." That turned out to be the seat opposite him. Conversation did not seem to be an issue - The boy was already taking care of it himself. Aleksandar looked up at the grin on the other's face, considered it with narrowed eyes for a moment before returning it with a smile of his own.

"Durmstrang," he answered easily as he straightened up and pushed his food tray to the side so there was enough space for him to lean his forearms against the edge of the table. "Your school is very welcoming. I am glad I took the opportunity to visit when it came along." Another sip of his juice, a small tilt of his glass in the other boy's direction as if to toast to him. Setting it aside, he extended his freed hand in the offer of a handshake. "Aleksandar Panchev. Who do I have the pleasure of having breakfast with, then?"

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A year ago Kazuo would never have approached someone so boldly, would never have simply seated himself without waiting for an answer. He’d learned over the year that the level of etiquette he exhibited wasn’t overly necessary here and so he had begun to do away with it in some situations, these open meal times being one of them. Aleksander seemed accommodating enough, polite and willing to accept Kazuo’s presence without complaint. He must not have been waiting for friends, then, Kazuo surmised. If he was, he likely would have said something to that effect.

He picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite, chewing on it as Aleksander answered his questions and introduced himself, taking the opportunity to better study the Durmstrang boy. He was decently dressed, casual but stylish. Dark hair and blue eyes set in a face so pale Kazuo would have thought he was a dhampir if not for the fact that Durmstrang didn’t take in halfbreeds.

“Durmstrang, interesting. Did you come for the camp or for one of the sports events?” He reached for his glass, tipping it in response to Aleksander’s movement. “Hogwarts does try very hard to be welcoming. I’m glad you’ve enjoyed your stay so far. They certainly set up plenty of events to help you meet new people.” He took a sip of his juice, eyeing Aleksander’s extended hand passively. He didn’t think he would ever get used to it but he extended his hand nonetheless, shaking Aleksander’s.

“Kazuo Shimada. Nice to meet you, Panchev-san. You’re quite a bit older, aren’t you? You look like a high school student.” He observed as he released the other’s hand and picked up his fork, spearing a piece of fruit to eat.

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Why are you here?

That seemed to be the most common question among Hogwarts students. An uncreative question, really, the most predictable one to ask someone you knew nothing about except for the fact that they were not typically from around the area. Yet, it was the question Aleksandar struggled with the most. He had come for neither camp nor sporting events, even if people seemed to think those were the only two options. "I have come for more selfish reasons," he answered. Watching the other boy pick away at his breakfast, he cocked his head to the side, lifted his chin. For the better part of a second he considered being more direct than that, though he decided against it. Not yet. "Are you a sportsman, then? Or simply content to spend summer among your peers?"

His hand was shook, a short moment too late to feel easy and natural. The introduction left Aleksandar with curiously raised eyebrows. Shimada. Japanese. "That would explain the instrument," he mused quietly, letting go of Kazuo's hand to rest it around his glass of orange juice instead. "An honourable family name, I hear." Questionable company, however. Such pure blood, mixing with such filth. It was revolting, showed in Aleksandar's face for a moment, recognisable to those paying attention to the downwards twitch of the corners of his mouth. Quick was the cover-up; a smile revealing pearly white teeth, creases in his forehead smoothing out.

"Quite a bit," he repeated, a laugh accompanying the words. "Youth has no age, they say. That you would comment on mine does make me feel old." The left corner of his mouth quirked upwards, pulled into a smirk. "I am fourteen. Would that be so much older than yourself?" A year or two perhaps, hardly more than that. Hogwarts students started their education at the age of eleven; Kazuo could not be any younger than that. Verging on his own adolescence. He held himself with the ancient maturity of the pure blood running through his veins, though he was merely a child.

Aleksandar tore his gaze from Kazuo's fork, reached for his own bag, pulled a textbook from it. Nature's Nobility. A register of all Pureblood families. He wondered, briefly, how quickly he could find Kazuo's name in it. Obscuring the cover, however, was a picture, caught on Aleksandar's fingertips as he placed the book on the table with a thoughtful hum. "I believe your name should not be far from mine in this," he told Kazuo, though delayed opening the book, granted an extended view of the picture he had pulled along with it. One glance, and it would seem familiar to the Japanese Pureblood; A man and a boy, smiling brightly, red hair like fire atop their soot covered faces. Aleksandar's fingers twitched against the book's spine as he waited.

Some reaction, any reaction. His eyes would not stray from Kazuo's face.

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Selfish reasons. Heh.

Could he have given a more vague answer? Kazuo arched a brow at the response, smirking. “Personal reasons?” He replied, hoping Aleksandar would elaborate. If not, he would dig for more. “I am a duelist but unfortunately, not one the ones who will be competing. I came because I’d never been to a summer camp before and it sounded more interesting than spending my summer in London.” It was true enough. He hadn’t really given much thought to it at the time but hanging out with his friends and watching the other students interacting in a more casual setting had definitely been more appealing than being bored at home. Though it caused him to wonder how Selim was doing…

Aleksandar’s comment about his instrument brought his attention back to the conversation and he nodded. “You were at the sing along last night?” He asked for confirmation. It was the only time he had brought his shamisen out in public so it was a fairly straightforward assumption. The comment about his family drew another eyebrow quirk, this time for the brief scowl that seemed to appear onn Aleksandar’s face, though it disappeared quickly behind a smile. It wasn’t often that Kazuo came across someone who genuinely recognized his family name. That immediately implied to him that Aleksandar came from a pureblood family, though he did not recognize Aleksandar’s family name. Aleksandar’s choice of the word ‘honourable’ also gave him thoughtful pause. Honourable by what standard?

“Hmm, I was off by a year. I was guessing fifteen. I’m twelve. So only two years younger.” He replied with a shrug, eyes flickering to the book that Aleksandar had retrieved from his bag. The title made him curious, an English book that would contain the genealogy of his clan? Yet the picture that had been pulled out along with the book shifted all of his attention. It was a picture he had seen before. Kazuo’s gaze shifted to meet Aleksandar’s and he put down his fork, resting his chin on one hand, head tilted slightly. “I admit, I don’t know the names and rankings of the pureblood families of Europe nearly so well as those of Japan. I couldn’t tell you where my clan might be in relation to yours. Or even how you Europeans track that sort of thing. But I know that boy is not a pureblood.”

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Aleksandar had not expected the other boy to ask further about his reasons for coming to camp; Nobody else had, so far. Selfish, personal reasons were usually enough to make people back off, but Kazuo seemed interested, comfortable enough to put his curiosity above anything else. "I am here on a family matter," Aleksandar elaborated, just barely, and offered the other boy a cordial smile. "You are not of the House Slytherin then," he deducted, hummed his acknowledgment. If his angel was competing, one Santario Martin leading her House to a certainly deserved victory, then Kazuo must not have belonged to the Viridian Vipers. Aleksandar knew little of the Hogwarts Houses, only that which could be found between the pages of the various books he had read about the school. It was certainly not enough to make an assessment of which House Kazuo might have called his home during his time at school.

"Is it more interesting than summer in London?" he wondered, head cocked to the side, eyes just slightly narrowed. He wondered what exactly the other boy would define as interesting, wondered if he was drawn in by the activities provided or the people to spend his time with. "I hear London provides a lot of entertainment. Surely you could have enjoyed more freedom and variety there than here." Where they were not allowed to leave the campgrounds, had been stuffed into cabins with too many people, were confined to the same food choices each day. Aleksandar would have taken London over Hogwarts any time of the year.

"Briefly." He had shown up, drawn in by the sound of music and the presence of the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on. "Just in time to hear Miss Martin's lovely voice. I am most grateful to you for providing me with the opportunity to hear such angelic tunes." A blessing, truly. "You are a skilled musician. I assume years of practice have gone into that instrument of yours." He himself certainly had been forced to sit through piano and violin lessons, had hated every second of it.

Kazuo's age was acknowledged with a small nod and a smile. "Two more months and your guess would have been right." Fifteen. He almost felt flattered that the other boy had guessed him to be older than he really was, even just marginally. The thought, however, was quickly dismissed. Kazuo's eyes had trailed exactly where Aleksandar had expected them to go, attention shifted onto the picture he had pulled out with his book. The other boy's words stuck to the matter of Pureblood families, but Aleksandar was certain that his focus was not truly on the record he was holding onto. No, he had put his fork aside, changed his position, was talking while his gaze locked with Aleksandar's own. "No, he certainly is not," he agreed. The corners of his mouth pulled down, twitched with distaste. "Every family makes mistakes, and that would make him ours." Another smile, a lazy shrug. "But blood ties are blood ties, even the filthiest ones." And did they not share the same filth in their veins? "I have come all this way to meet him, you see. Instead I meet you. Perhaps you could tell me more about my little brother."

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A family matter. A slight elaboration, barely an explanation. Not that he would need it as the progression of the conversation would swiftly reveal. “Slytherin, no. I’m curious, does Durmstrang have some sort of dormitory system like Hogwarts House system?” He inquired with curiosity while also conveniently not revealing his own House.

As Aleksandar spoke of London, Kazuo took the opportunity to take a few more bites of his breakfast, considering the older boy’s observations. “Well, maybe if you’re fourteen and your parents don’t particularly care where you go or what you do.” Kazuo pointed at Aleksandar with his fork. “When you’re twelve you get stuck with a babysitter who won’t let you go anywhere fun because your parents think London is dangerous.” Then he shrugged. “Maybe London would be more interesting if it weren’t so likely that I would be spending it cooped up in my flat. Which, without other options on the table, wouldn’t be unbearable. But why turn down a new experience for something I’ve done a hundred times before?”

He put down the fork and took a sip of his juice, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips as Aleksandar spoke of Santario. “She does have a lovely voice, doesn’t she?” He agreed. “Thank you. Yes, I’ve been playing since I was quite young. One of the few obligations to tradition that I can say I actually enjoyed.”

The comment about family business, the conveniently displayed photo, the comments Aleksandar made in response to his own observation. Puzzle pieces that came together and Kazuo’s expression shifted from amiable to guarded, his smile turning sharp. “A… mistake. Interesting choice of words. A bit 15th century. Oh but I suppose you Europeans are really fixated on your purity aren’t you? So you came to Hogwarts to meet your family’s dirty secret?” Fingers wrapped around his glass of juice and he lifted it to his lips, gazing at Aleksandar over the rim as he took a sip. “What could you possibly want to know about your filthy, muggle-raised, half-blood brother?”