Alexios Katsaros | Second Year | Durmstrang
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History:
| Alexios Katsaros | ⤢ |
| .. |
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Reducio
First Instance of Magic:Born and baptised just north of Kifissia, in Athens, Greece, Alexios Katsaros had never been offered things in halves, and he’d never been raised to accept anything but his best effort towards the whole, either. He is his parents’ first and only son; clear responsibilities and high expectations shaped his childhood, and yet, for all its restraint, one could never consider it anything but pampered.
Nikolaos Katsaros—pureblood, aspiring preacher, and distinguished judge— shepherded the family’s reputation just as easily as he demanded order in church and court. His wife, Kaethe Sotiriou, was much the same. Despite Kaethe’s dubious heritage, she had internalised the same high-born pride that characterised most respectable wizards and earned her reputation as a respected violin soloist long before marriage. Together, the two are a united front in the perpetual pursuit of success. They’d endured much controversy throughout their years together, but had always aimed to provide the best for Alexios and his younger sister, Ariadne.
Owing to overly traditional customs, which their mother often embraced with fervent insistence, Alexios and Ariadne were educated separately after a certain age. Even so, they spent most of their free time together and had always been extremely close. They often accompanied their parents to courts and concert halls alike, curiously imitating the cultured, serious affectations of the people around them. When neither of their parents had work, the family often took time to visit museums, beaches and cultural sites, which made art, music, and religion prominent pillars of their extracurricular education. What was worth a life of privilege if it lacked a critic’s discerning eye for taste? Carefully tutored in both spiritual and material matters, both children grew up under the wing of lush, moralised ambition, wanting for nothing but approval—the likes of which plentifully offered—and perhaps less time out of the day with their strictest tutors.
And yet, simmering beneath the surface lay tensions that existed well beyond such indulgences. Nikolaus and Kaethe did not often speak to their families, not out of shame on their part or deliberate caution on either lineage’s, but out of a sense of lingering exclusion that had failed to die away. In truth, Nikolaus had married below his rank, and, though she’d risen well above the limitations of illegitimacy, Kaethe herself had been the product of an affair. The two scandals had not been enough to relinquish their families’ lenient loyalties, but Kaethe had never recovered from the blow to her lineage’s pride, no matter how involuntary her role had been. Even in the minutest interactions held the opportunity to shame her—she’d never learned Russian, not in the same way her husband had at Durmstrang, and never in the same way she’d had her children educated in her stead. Slighted by her father’s mistakes, there was nothing but the harsh reality of wizarding discrimination that had raised Alexios’s mother. She would not allow her children the same struggles, no matter how different their paths were from her own.
Alexios had grown up intimately familiar with his parents’ great expectations. It had never been hidden from him—in fact, his parents had always been very forthright about his birthright responsibility, and often charged him to recapture all of which they’d envisioned for him. Ariadne was only two years younger, but even a single moment could mean the difference between needless sacrifice and true success. While his sweet, sensitive sister remained the protected white sheep of the family, Alexios had always, without protest, borne the beautiful golden fleece of favouritism. His very existence had been celebrated with all the lavish trappings of his family’s favour. Though many other children would have felt stifled by such expectation, the bright-eyed and ever-obedient Alexios truthfully flourished under the attention. He had been Kaethe’s golden boy from the beginning, a living ticket towards achieving respect from their once-pure lineage. A lofty task, perhaps, but nothing unrealisable for a boy well-versed in mythos’s most impossible feats. He’d always thought himself clever, his parents infinitely moreso, and such a position of privilege suited him well. Even Durmstrang itself held little ideological threat in the face of faith, though the day he’d been offered attendance remained only one of many future fulfillments he sought for his family to boast.
Nikolaos Katsaros—pureblood, aspiring preacher, and distinguished judge— shepherded the family’s reputation just as easily as he demanded order in church and court. His wife, Kaethe Sotiriou, was much the same. Despite Kaethe’s dubious heritage, she had internalised the same high-born pride that characterised most respectable wizards and earned her reputation as a respected violin soloist long before marriage. Together, the two are a united front in the perpetual pursuit of success. They’d endured much controversy throughout their years together, but had always aimed to provide the best for Alexios and his younger sister, Ariadne.
Owing to overly traditional customs, which their mother often embraced with fervent insistence, Alexios and Ariadne were educated separately after a certain age. Even so, they spent most of their free time together and had always been extremely close. They often accompanied their parents to courts and concert halls alike, curiously imitating the cultured, serious affectations of the people around them. When neither of their parents had work, the family often took time to visit museums, beaches and cultural sites, which made art, music, and religion prominent pillars of their extracurricular education. What was worth a life of privilege if it lacked a critic’s discerning eye for taste? Carefully tutored in both spiritual and material matters, both children grew up under the wing of lush, moralised ambition, wanting for nothing but approval—the likes of which plentifully offered—and perhaps less time out of the day with their strictest tutors.
And yet, simmering beneath the surface lay tensions that existed well beyond such indulgences. Nikolaus and Kaethe did not often speak to their families, not out of shame on their part or deliberate caution on either lineage’s, but out of a sense of lingering exclusion that had failed to die away. In truth, Nikolaus had married below his rank, and, though she’d risen well above the limitations of illegitimacy, Kaethe herself had been the product of an affair. The two scandals had not been enough to relinquish their families’ lenient loyalties, but Kaethe had never recovered from the blow to her lineage’s pride, no matter how involuntary her role had been. Even in the minutest interactions held the opportunity to shame her—she’d never learned Russian, not in the same way her husband had at Durmstrang, and never in the same way she’d had her children educated in her stead. Slighted by her father’s mistakes, there was nothing but the harsh reality of wizarding discrimination that had raised Alexios’s mother. She would not allow her children the same struggles, no matter how different their paths were from her own.
Alexios had grown up intimately familiar with his parents’ great expectations. It had never been hidden from him—in fact, his parents had always been very forthright about his birthright responsibility, and often charged him to recapture all of which they’d envisioned for him. Ariadne was only two years younger, but even a single moment could mean the difference between needless sacrifice and true success. While his sweet, sensitive sister remained the protected white sheep of the family, Alexios had always, without protest, borne the beautiful golden fleece of favouritism. His very existence had been celebrated with all the lavish trappings of his family’s favour. Though many other children would have felt stifled by such expectation, the bright-eyed and ever-obedient Alexios truthfully flourished under the attention. He had been Kaethe’s golden boy from the beginning, a living ticket towards achieving respect from their once-pure lineage. A lofty task, perhaps, but nothing unrealisable for a boy well-versed in mythos’s most impossible feats. He’d always thought himself clever, his parents infinitely moreso, and such a position of privilege suited him well. Even Durmstrang itself held little ideological threat in the face of faith, though the day he’d been offered attendance remained only one of many future fulfillments he sought for his family to boast.
Reducio
Athens, late July 2021.
It had been abnormally warm that summer—swelteringly so, even with magic to keep a wizarding household’s inhabitants somewhat more comfortable than the rest of Greece’s poor Muggle population. For two weeks straight, the entire country seemed under a haze of extreme heat, and if Nikolaus Katsaros’ complaints were to be believed, it’d likely get no cooler in the days to come. Sick of the trouble and unwilling to spend their days trapped inside, the Katsaros had brought their two young children to the outlying coves of Thimari beach, where the clear waters and pebbled shoreline provided more privacy than other beaches surrounding Attica. They spent a handful of hours relaxing before turning back for dinnertime, one of many small pleasures that characterised their free days when neither parent had work.
7-year-old Alexios was too young to have truly remembered anything more of the occasion than the burning sand—his father indulgently picking him up to bypass all but the beautiful, glittering ocean shore— and the evening sun reflecting off the water. Even so, his parents had always looked back on the occasion with such fondness that it was impossible to question them, not that he’d ever been in the habit of doing so. While Nikolaos carefully corralled Alexios around the shallow waters, Kaethe stayed further back to attend to young Ariadne. More often than not, her son would come running back at every other shiny stone or shell Nikolaos had been unable to stop him from collecting, ecstatic at the opportunity to show off his findings to his curious younger sister and equally willing to pry her away from the commonest treasures washed ashore.
As the sun began to set on Athens, so came the burgeoning end of their beach outing. For most other children, Ariadne included, this normally meant a great deal of fussing and wishing to stay longer. Yet Alexios had always been—as his father was often proud to boast—strong-willed but never difficult, and so acquiesced easily to the promise of family dinnertime. As Kaethe handed off one child for another, Nikolaos methodically gathered their things.
And yet, when Kaethe turned back towards Alexios, her arm already outstretched to draw him into a hug and soothe his post-swim shivers, she suddenly felt a strange shift of wind in her hair. It was too hot even for the heat haze that’d threatened them all day, and when she looked up where Nikolaos stood less than a meter away, far too localised to be a true breeze. Her husband’s eyebrows were raised in surprise, his eyes glinting with the ambition she’d married him for, as he looked upon their eldest.
Plans were already forming in her mind as she drew back and found Alexios’s linen shirt salt-stiff yet unwrinkled, his fair hair mysteriously ruffled, dry, and his face flushed warm even under the summer sun. He’d by then been splashing around for nearly two hours, yet seemed as if he’d been laid out in a towel for that same amount of time. Even as Kaethe smoothed down an errant lock, Alexios had looked up at her so guilelessly, with such child-like confusion at her surprise over his unconscious help, that she knew without doubt that her favouritism was not without cause. For years, she’d privately wondered what his first instance of magic would be. It hadn’t been to throw open the curtains like he wanted to every morning, or even to blow out the lit candles he often stared at before bed—no, to spare himself from needless discomfort, he’d somehow aided them amid life’s greater storm.
Oh, her sweet, spoilt son. Yes, he had been all they’d ever hoped for. Already, he’d proven himself as the start of everything she’d ever wanted and more.
It had been abnormally warm that summer—swelteringly so, even with magic to keep a wizarding household’s inhabitants somewhat more comfortable than the rest of Greece’s poor Muggle population. For two weeks straight, the entire country seemed under a haze of extreme heat, and if Nikolaus Katsaros’ complaints were to be believed, it’d likely get no cooler in the days to come. Sick of the trouble and unwilling to spend their days trapped inside, the Katsaros had brought their two young children to the outlying coves of Thimari beach, where the clear waters and pebbled shoreline provided more privacy than other beaches surrounding Attica. They spent a handful of hours relaxing before turning back for dinnertime, one of many small pleasures that characterised their free days when neither parent had work.
7-year-old Alexios was too young to have truly remembered anything more of the occasion than the burning sand—his father indulgently picking him up to bypass all but the beautiful, glittering ocean shore— and the evening sun reflecting off the water. Even so, his parents had always looked back on the occasion with such fondness that it was impossible to question them, not that he’d ever been in the habit of doing so. While Nikolaos carefully corralled Alexios around the shallow waters, Kaethe stayed further back to attend to young Ariadne. More often than not, her son would come running back at every other shiny stone or shell Nikolaos had been unable to stop him from collecting, ecstatic at the opportunity to show off his findings to his curious younger sister and equally willing to pry her away from the commonest treasures washed ashore.
As the sun began to set on Athens, so came the burgeoning end of their beach outing. For most other children, Ariadne included, this normally meant a great deal of fussing and wishing to stay longer. Yet Alexios had always been—as his father was often proud to boast—strong-willed but never difficult, and so acquiesced easily to the promise of family dinnertime. As Kaethe handed off one child for another, Nikolaos methodically gathered their things.
And yet, when Kaethe turned back towards Alexios, her arm already outstretched to draw him into a hug and soothe his post-swim shivers, she suddenly felt a strange shift of wind in her hair. It was too hot even for the heat haze that’d threatened them all day, and when she looked up where Nikolaos stood less than a meter away, far too localised to be a true breeze. Her husband’s eyebrows were raised in surprise, his eyes glinting with the ambition she’d married him for, as he looked upon their eldest.
Plans were already forming in her mind as she drew back and found Alexios’s linen shirt salt-stiff yet unwrinkled, his fair hair mysteriously ruffled, dry, and his face flushed warm even under the summer sun. He’d by then been splashing around for nearly two hours, yet seemed as if he’d been laid out in a towel for that same amount of time. Even as Kaethe smoothed down an errant lock, Alexios had looked up at her so guilelessly, with such child-like confusion at her surprise over his unconscious help, that she knew without doubt that her favouritism was not without cause. For years, she’d privately wondered what his first instance of magic would be. It hadn’t been to throw open the curtains like he wanted to every morning, or even to blow out the lit candles he often stared at before bed—no, to spare himself from needless discomfort, he’d somehow aided them amid life’s greater storm.
Oh, her sweet, spoilt son. Yes, he had been all they’d ever hoped for. Already, he’d proven himself as the start of everything she’d ever wanted and more.
Last edited by Alexios Katsaros on 7 Jul 2026, 10:30, edited 3 times in total.
| ... cassius hirano | alexios katsaros ... |
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Alexios Katsaros | Second Year | Durmstrang
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Last edited by Santiago Peralta on 7 Jul 2026, 21:33, edited 1 time in total.
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This is the "Game Master" account. Please do not owl this account, unless specified. This account is not moderated actively and therefore, you may not receive a response.
Contact a Head of House or the Headmaster if you need anything.