A carriage ride for conversation Solo Finished

Harvey craned his neck to look out the carriage window. They had been flying for a couple of hours and he was bored out of his mind. He had no books, none of his fidgets had passed the inspection of his packed baggage. He had nothing to do but sit where he was and think. Usually he could sort of enjoy it. He could occupy himself for hours. The only problem now was that the only thing on his mind was Dylan. What had happened, how close he had been to doing something unthinkable. He had been drowning in guilt since it happened. Sleep came in the form of nightmares and his stomach convulsed by the mere thought of food. He had in the end pushed as much of the blame over on Astor himself as possible, at least consciously. The douche had been so annoying after all. If it was just a little bit Dylans fault, he wouldn’t have to feel quite as bad. Of course it was easier said than done. The screaming monologues his stepfather Henry preformed on a daily basis for the last month, only broken up by things he would rather expel from his memory, did not make it easier. And now he was here. Just two days after the full moon, and his body still ached.

His gaze slid from the ugly curtains framing the window to the tall man sitting across from him. At least someone had planned enough to bring books… Grigori had been wrapped up in one ever since they sat down. They hadn’t exchanged a single word since leaving the States. Now he was sick of it. He knew he was getting a second chance here, and that he should be grateful. But still, his father had only seen him a handful of times since he was six. And now they were supposed to be… what, good? Go back to the way things were? He sat with it for a moment while the urge to say something grew. He fidgeted and squirmed, unable to get any sort of peace.

He started making small, obnoxious noises. A huff, discovering that if he moved a certain way it made the cushion squeak, and eventually he made a fart noise while demonstratively staring at the roof. Grigori simply turned a page. Finally he opened his mouth. «I suppose I should be grateful» Harvey placed both elbows on his knees with a growing smirk. Just to be as annoying as possible, he continued speaking in english. «Seems like America has run out of places willing to tolerate me, so I guess it’s very kind of you to take me off their hands» He leant back in his seat, expecting the usual response he was so good at bringing forth from adults. The sheer lack of any at all made him frown for a moment. Sure his dad had never been one to snap, but nothing? He deliberately placed a grin on his lips again and continued. «Guess that’s to be expected. Russia hasn’t really been doing so well, with the fall of Soviet and all. I just didn’t know it extended to the people as well, taking in rejects like you can’t get any better…»

He had barely finished when Grigori sighed. His grin widened, because finally he was getting the reaction he wanted. His father placed a bookmark between the pages and closed the book before placing it down with utmost care on the seat beside him. A pinch in his stomach came as sudden as it could have done. There was a time where Grigori placing down whatever he was working on had been the thing he had been hoping for, only for an entirely different reason.

He was three, or perhaps four. It was the best day since forever, because his dad was here. They were both sitting in the living room, his mom and Henry was out doing adult things he didn’t care about. He had the best play mate right here! He itched to go outside and throw ball, and he had finally managed to drag himself to his room to get the ball and baseball glove he had gotten for his birthdate that year. His dad sat on the couch, a newspaper open in his hands.

«Dad?» The russian word was a bit hesitating, but he bulldozed ahead out of pure joy. «You wanna play ball with me?» He definitely mixed up at least one word, but he didn’t care. He was practically bouncing off his feet. Grigori didn’t look up. «Later» The word was short, way too short. Why later when they could do it now? Nevertheless he walked off. Less than five minutes later he was back again. «Daadd, can we play now?» He dragged out the first word, to underline how long he felt he had been waiting. His dad lowered the newspaper just enough to look at him. «When did I say we could go?» Harvey responded immediately. «Later» - «Has later arrived?» He didn’t know. Scrunching up his face he thought about it. Seeing the unsure child, Grigori lifted his newspaper again. «Why don’t you go look outside, and then you can tell me wether it would be sensible to play now» The man suggested, in a tone that made it clear he was already focused on the newspaper once again.

Harvey hesitated for a mere moment before running across the floor to the closest window. Defeated, he returned a minute later. «It’s raining outside» His voice was bitter, as if the droplets of rain had personally wronged him. And they had. Adults didn’t like playing in the rain, and he wasn’t allowed to throw around the ball indoors. Grigori lowered the newspaper at the tone. Anyone could look outside a window and spot the rain, but the tone was an indication of the child getting the point. «Then what would you suggest?» Harvey looked around the room. He hadn’t really planned anything else. «Maybe we could try after lunch?» He suggested after a bit of thought. «The rain might have cleared by then» The newspaper was folded and put aside, a small smile playing across Grigoris face. «That sounds like a good plan» Harvey lit up. He loved playing catch, but he loved the validation and praise even more. «Yeah?» His father did not repeat the word, but he nodded. «Now what do you suggest we do in the meantime?» Before long he was planted on the couch beside his father with a simple card game, grinning from ear to ear.

He came back to himself and his smile stiffened. He did not expect praise, or even a polite tone now. Still, he suddenly ached for it. The man sitting in front of him was exactly the same man who encouraged him to observe, work it out, talk when needed, not be annoying, and assess situations. Harvey had adjusted to it all as far as he was able, just for that small metaphorical pat on the head.

Grigori leant forward an inch and met his eye. «Are you finished?» Russian, the hated language flowed as easily as if it were nothing. He spoke at normal speed, Harvey needing a minute to understand the words. To his own surprise, Harvey understood more than he thought he would. The tone was surprisingly neutral. It was far from the how dare you or don’t take that tone with me he had been expecting. Building a lid of steel to keep the want for approval suppressed, Harvey lightly shook his head. «No, not really» He shrugged a bit. «I guess I should be grateful or something, that someone is willing to take me…» He took a pause for dramatic effect, not quite able to suppress the growing smirk. «But I don’t know if a third world country is really somewhere I want to be, you know? Why don’t we move to France or Italy or something? The people aren’t much, but at least it is a temperature meant for proper society» He leant back with pure glee. He knew this, this was familiar territory. He could navigate this in his sleep.

Once again he was robbed of a response. The man simply continued looking at him, before raising an eyebrow in silent question. Harvey stared back. First in defiance, then with growing confusion. The eyebrow remained where it was. «What?» Grigori leant back before he answered. «You said you were not finished» Oh. Harvey's mouth opened. Nothing immediately came to mind. He had sort of expected to be interrupted before now. That was half the fun of it. Harvey said something awful, someone told him to shut his mouth, he said something worse, they got angry, and sooner or later everyone involved got exactly what they expected. That was how it worked. Grigori apparently hadn’t been informed of the rules. He simply waited. «Well...» Harvey drew the word out while desperately scraping together another insult. «Your curtains are ugly» They both glanced toward them. «They are» The man agreed. Harvey blinked. Then he shook it off and continued. «And your carriage smells weird»
«Does it?»
«Yes»
«I see»
«Like old people»

Rapid fire responses before there was a pause. «Anything else?» Grigori was already glancing toward his book again. Harvey narrowed his eyes. He was not one to give up so easily. «You're an asshole» His father looked back at him with a curt nod. «There it is» The words were spoken so calmly that Harvey almost missed them. His smirk faltered before he could help it. «There what is?» The tone of the man was as as neutral as ever as he responded. «The point» Harvey bristled. It wasn’t like he hid his dislike well, but was it truly that obvious? «I don't have a point» His father nodded, as if it was the only correct answer. «I am aware» Harvey's jaw tightened. Grigori leant back again, crossing one leg over the other. He reduced his talking speed a fraction, making it easier for Harvey to keep up without really adjusting for it. «You have spent the better part of five minutes attempting to provoke me. I assume there is a reason» This was not going the way he had imagined. But to the long life and good health of being unmanageable, he shrugged. «Maybe you're just easy to hate» «Yet apparently rather difficult to provoke» The answer came so easily he clamped down for a moment before rolling his eyes and looking out the window. «Whatever»

«Look at me when I am speaking to you» There was no anger in his voice. If anything it had grown quieter. Harvey kept his gaze firmly fixed on the clouds for another second. Two. He could keep staring out there. What was Grigori going to do about it? Probably nothing. That was almost the problem. Harvey had spent enough time around angry adults to know what anger looked like. This wasn't it. There was no warning in his father's voice, no threat to push against. Only the quiet certainty that Harvey would eventually do as he had been told. So he kept staring out the window, before he slowly turned his head and looked back. «Better?» «Marginally» Harvey snorted. Grigori seemed to study him for a moment. Not his clothes or his hair or anything else Harvey could readily identify. Just him. It made his skin crawl. «Why were you removed from Ilvermorny?» The question wasn’t unexpected, but Harvey still tensed from it. The whole point about starting this verbal sparring had been to put it out of his mind. «Because they're boring»
«No»
«Because the headmaster has no sense of humor»
«No»
«Because apparently trying to improve the place is frowned upon»
«Harvey»

He could all but hear the unspoken word between them: Irrelevant. The use of his name made something unpleasant crawl up his spine. The gaze meeting his had grown disapproving. So he rolled his eyes. What did the dude expect? If he was to just sit and feel everything, he would fall apart. So he continued down the easy route. «What? You asked» His father shook his head slightly, as if disappointed. It was strange though, because Harvey got the distinct impression it wasn’t directed at his actions but rather the fact that he refused to explain himself. «I asked why you were removed. You have given me three answers to questions I did not ask» Harvey gave a shrug he had meant to seem nonchalant. «Maybe those are the only answers you're getting» Grigori was silent. Harvey waited for the reprimand, the inevitable correction of attitude. It didn't come.

«Was the other boy injured?» The last trace of amusement vanished. His stomach twisted and he clenched his hands, needing something to keep them busy. «No» His father considered it for a moment before speaking up again. «Could he have been?» Harvey lowered his gaze a fraction. «No» The lie came too quickly to be anything resembling believable. Grigori's expression didn't change. «So there was no danger» - «I didn't say that…» Harvey realized his mistake the moment the words were out. He hadn’t meant to say it. His eyes shot up and he could see the realization settle on Grigori’s face. Damn it.

«What happened?» He hesitated a bit before answering. «Nothing» How was it possible to keep ones face so neutral? Harvey didn’t know, nor did he feel much like asking. «Something happened» The response was immediate, and made Harvey set his jaw. «You weren't there» The man gave a curt nod. «Correct» Had he not already been leaning back, he would have done so. So he settled on crossing his arms. It made him seem more childishly defiant than he wanted to, but it couldn’t be helped. «Then you don't know shit about it»

There was a beat of silence, then two. Then, a sentence so familiar it made him laugh. «Mind your language» Harvey measured his dad for a mere moment before shaking his head. «Fuck off» He hadn’t quite known what he had expected. Maybe them continuing down the familiar route. He did not expect nothing, but that was what he got. Not even a twitch. Harvey couldn't quite tell whether the insult had been forgiven or simply allowed. Somehow the second possibility felt considerably worse. There was once again a moment of silence. «You nearly injured another student.»
«I didn't»
«You nearly did»
«But I didn't»
«Because you stopped?»

Harvey's mouth closed. A rapid fire conversation he could do in his sleep. But now the guilt pressed in on him once again. Grigori waited, as if they had all the time in the world. Harvey had moved through half a dozen expressions and probably twice as many positions since this conversation began. Grigori, by comparison, had barely moved at all. Now even the faint irritation from before seemed to have disappeared. He was simply watching. The carriage suddenly felt much smaller than it had five minutes ago. Harvey rubbed at one of his wrists, digging his thumb into the aching joint. He could still see Dylan's face inches from his own. The yelling that came out of nowhere, the blinding light that threw him off and several meters away. He could curse his memory for being so good. «Staff showed up» His voice was lower than he had intended, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Grigori looked searchingly at him. «Then you did not stop» Harvey glared at him. It wasn’t like it was new information. He had been there, he had had variations of it screamed at him for the last month. His shoulders curled a bit in defense. «Nobody got hurt» If Grigori had been the man to do such a thing, he probably would have rolled his eyes. «That is an outcome. I asked about your actions.»

Harvey hated him. He hated the stupid calm voice. He hated the stupid questions. He hated that Grigori wouldn't just call him a violent little shit and get it over with. «I screwed up, alright. Happy?» He flung out his hands in a gesture that ended up looking a lot more broken than the sarcastic he had been aiming for. His eyes once more sought the clouds outside of the carriage. «No» The answer came immediately. Harvey's eyes snapped toward him. Grigori's expression remained as composed as ever. «I am not interested in hearing you say what you believe will end the conversation»
«Then what the hell do you want?»
«An answer»
«I gave you one!»
«You gave me a conclusion»

Harvey stared. He hadn’t forgotten the way things used to be, but this was getting old fast. «What?» His tone was irritable and he lifted his cap to drag a hand through his blond mop of hair. «You 'screwed up.' That tells me nothing. What did you do?» He placed the cap back on his head once again and rolled his eyes. «You already know» Grigori was as flat in expression as always. «I know what I was told» Why did he have to have the most dreary person ever as a dad. Someone who wouldn’t leave well enough alone until every detail was scrutinized over. «Then why ask me?» The answer was immediate. «Because I am asking whether you understand it» Harvey couldn't quite work out when insulting Russia had turned into an interrogation of his almost criminal history. Still, it was where he found himself. The words hit something Harvey did not want touched. His fingers curled against his sleeve. «Of course I understand it»
«Do you?»
«I'm not stupid»
«I didn't say you were»

That stopped him. It shouldn't have. Plenty of people had said it. Teachers had certainly implied it. His stepdad didn't even need to say it anymore, even though he often did. Harvey himself had spent a good chunk of the last few years making sure everyone knew exactly how little went on inside his head. He gave Grigori a suspicious look. His father on the other hand gave the look no attention. «You were failing several classes» There it was. Harvey relaxed back into familiar annoyance. Having his choices under the microscope was perhaps uncomfortable, but at least it was familiar. «Yeah» He closed his eyes for a moment. Wherever Grigori thought he was going with this, Harvey had it well in hand. «Why?» His response was immediate. «Because I'm stupid» That was where the usual pattern broke. «No» The answer came so casually that Harvey almost laughed. «You just said I was failing»
«I did»
«Generally smart people don't fail school»
«Generally intelligent people who apply themselves do not» Harvey's fists clenched, but he continued his rapid responses. «Maybe I applied myself and still sucked»
«Did you?»
«Maybe»
«You didn't»
«How would you know?»

For the first time something shifted in Grigori's expression. Not anger exactly. Harvey would have preferred that. Something closer to faint disbelief crossed the mans face. «Because I know you» Harvey laughed. He couldn't help it. It burst out sharp, ugly, and almost entirely without humor. «You don't know me» Grigori's face went still and stiffened. Harvey felt something vicious and satisfied rise. Finally a hit. «You don't!» He repeated it. He didn’t much feel like ripping all this up, but he was not above doing it to get the win. «You showed up, what, a couple times a year? You don't know anything about me»

«I know enough» The mans voice was still calm, still flat, and it had lost what minimal casualness had been there before. «Bullshit» Harvey knew anger. He knew shouting, red faces and words hurled hard enough to bruise. Grigori didn't look angry. He simply straightened where he sat, and something in the carriage seemed to narrow with the movement. Harvey waved it off. He should probably have left it there. Instead, sensing that he had finally hit something, he leant forward and cocked his head theatrically. The instinct telling him to stop was there. He ignored it largely because obeying it would have meant admitting he had noticed it in the first place. «I know you could read above your age before you started school. I know you once spent three weeks learning the names of every constellation visible from Tennessee because you were irritated that I knew one you did not. I know you could hold a conversation in two languages before you were six»

Harvey shrank back a bit, his eyes seeking the floor between them. «So?» A tone of bitterness he had not approved of entered his voice. «So I know you are not stupid» Grigori leant back once again. Harvey caught the movement, but stubbornly continued staring at the floor. «Maybe I got worse»
«At thinking?»
«Yeah.»
«How unfortunate.» There was something so dry about it that Harvey looked back despite himself. Grigori continued as if he hadn’t noticed. «Did you?»
«Did I what?»
«Get worse.»
«Maybe I hit my head.»
«Repeatedly, apparently.» Harvey stared at him. Was that a joke? Surely not. His dad never joked. Grigori's face offered no assistance. So Harvey shot off the first thing he could think of. «You're an asshole»
«Your vocabulary has certainly deteriorated»
«Screw you»
«Case in point»

A laugh almost escaped him. Harvey strangled it before it could get anywhere. No. Absolutely not. He was not about to lose this. He didn’t quite know when it had become a competition, but there was no doubt it now was one. Grigori had already moved on. «Why did you stop trying?»
«I didn't»
«Then why are you failing?»
«Maybe the teachers suck»
«All of them?»
«Yeah»
«Remarkable»
«Ilvermorny has very poor hiring standards»
«Yet you liked it there»

Harvey's stomach dropped. He had indeed liked the school, not that he would ever willingly admit it. He recovered quickly, determined to push on. «No, I didn't» Grigori tilted his head and studied him. «Then being removed should not trouble you» He did his best for a carefree shrug. «It doesn't» - «Then there is nothing to discuss. You will not be returning» He knew that. Obviously he knew that. He had been expelled. Removed. Whatever stupid word the adults wanted to use for it. He was halfway across Europe on his way to Russia. He wasn't under the impression that this was some elaborate summer vacation. Still, hearing it made something squeeze painfully beneath his ribs. Worse, Grigori hadn't challenged the lie. Harvey had the unpleasant suspicion that he hadn't believed it for a second. Apparently he simply didn't require Harvey to admit it.

«Didn't want to anyway» He squirmed a bit under his fathers look. Harvey scratched at a loose thread on his jeans. «The place was shit» There was no response, so he kept going. «Everyone there was annoying» Still nothing. He pulled a bit harder at the thread. Maybe if he could just yank it off, it would unfurl this conversation as well. «And half of them were absolute idiots»
«Harvey…»
«What?»
«Stop» That was all. Harvey's mouth snapped shut before he could think better of it. The obedience came first, and the resentment arrived a fraction of a second later. He hated himself for that almost as much as he hated Grigori. The silence stretched. Outside, there was nothing but clouds. A never ending blanket of grey and white.

A few minutes passed before either of them spoke again. «Who is Dylan Astor?» Despite the neutral tone, Harvey went rigid. «Some kid» He said, careful of his words. «A friend?» - «No» Too quick again. Grigori noticed, because of course he did. It wasn’t like he and Dylan were friends, they had almost gotten along for a few days out of the year. But the jerk, annoying as he could be, was also sort of funny at times. Maybe they could have become friends, eventually. But there was no chance of that now. Harvey's annoyance flared. «Can you stop doing that?» Grigori feigned innocence to his continued annoyance. «Doing what?»
«That»
«You'll need to be more specific»
«Looking at me like that»
«Like what?»
«Like you're…» Harvey cut himself off. Grigori waited. Assessing him. That was the word. And with it came a memory.

He was five this time. Definitely five, because he had started school and had spent the entire morning telling his father about something one of the other kids had done. They had sought out a wizarding establishment. Harvey couldn't remember anymore what Grigori had needed there. Something boring. Adult business. What he did remember was the shop itself. There were things everywhere. Things that moved when nobody touched them, jars full of ingredients he desperately wanted to open, feathers, stones, strange little instruments and a brass bird that had turned its head to watch him.

Grigori had been speaking to the shopkeeper for forever. Harvey had behaved, at least mostly. On their way out, Grigori had asked him a question. «What was wrong with the man?» Harvey had looked back through the window. «Nothing?» His father stopped, allowing the child the opportunity to think properly. «Look again» Harvey had done so. The shopkeeper was moving around behind the counter. «He's old» He pointed out the first thing he saw, turning to his dad. «Irrelevant» Grigori shook his head slightly. Harvey frowned, continuing to think. «He had a stain on his robe?» The statement became more of a question, not knowing what his dad actually wanted. «Also irrelevant»

This was getting annoying. Harvey huffed slightly. «His hair was weird» Grigori had looked down at him. Harvey crossed his arms in defiance. «Well, I don't know!» His dad had looked at him for a moment before he sighed. «Then think» He had thought. What had the man done? Talked. Written something down. Taken his dads money. Wrapped the thing Grigori bought. Harvey's face scrunched tighter. Then he had it. Well, at least something. «His hand…» Grigori remained silent, but he gave a small nod to encourage. «He kept shaking it» Harvey smiled, satisfied with his own reasoning. «Which one?»

Harvey nearly answered before stopping himself. He pictured the man again. «The left» He finally said, seeking the answer in his fathers face. «And?» Harvey scrunched up his face anew. There had been something else. He just wasn’t quite sure how to word it. «He kept putting it under the counter when someone came in.» Grigori nodded. That was all. One little movement of his head. Harvey beamed as if he had been told he was the greatest boy on planet earth. «Did you see it too?»
«Yes»
«Before me?»
«Yes» That was unacceptable to the five-year old. «Next time I'll see it first» He said with utter certainty. Something almost amused had crossed his father's face. «Perhaps.»

Harvey had spent the rest of the afternoon watching everyone they passed. At some point he had caught Grigori watching him do it. Later, when they returned to the apartment, a good book was waiting for them by the door.

Harvey blinked, and the carriage returned. Grigori was still watching him. Exactly like that. His stomach turned. «You're testing me» The accusation slipped out before he could stop it. One of Grigori's eyebrows rose. «Am I?»
«You used to do this»
«Do what?»
«Ask stupid questions you already knew the answer to» He crossed his arms. Except this time there was no shopkeeper on the other side of the glass. «Then presumably the answer was not the purpose of the question» Harvey stared at him. That was such an irritatingly Grigori answer that he wanted to throw something. Unfortunately, everything throwable had been packed away. «That's fucking weird» - «Mind your language» The repeat of the reprimand was far from harsh, but Harvey straightened. He noticed only after he had already done it. Annoyed, he deliberately slouched again. «That's fucking weird, sir» The last word was spoken with a bit of a smirk, clearly meant to be more of an insult than anything else. «Better» Harvey gave him the finger before he could stop himself. Grigori looked at it, then at Harvey. «Finished?» He slowly lowered his hand and gave a small shrug. «Maybe» - «Good.» That word again. Not meant as praise this time. Barely anything at all really. His body didn't seem to know the difference. Harvey folded his arms tightly across his chest.

Grigori continued. «You are correct about one thing.» He gave a theatrical sigh. «Only one?» His father ignored it. «For the moment.» Harvey rolled his eyes. If they were going down this route he might as well take a nap instead. «I have not spent enough time with you in recent years to know precisely what you have become.» Something in the phrasing caught his attention and stung. What you have become. His gaze dropped without meaning to. Of course, there it was. He should have known they would eventually get around to that. Monster. Werewolf. Problem. Whatever word Grigori preferred these days.

«But,» Grigori continued, «I remember who you were» Harvey's head lifted with a grimace, expression guarded. «If we are taking another trip down memory lane I might get emotional» Who he was. He was no longer six years old. He was no longer the innocent boy who wanted nothing more than spend time with his father. That left only what he was now. «It was not intended to make you feel anything.» Of course it wasn't. His face folded into guarded when his father failed to raise to the occasion. «Then what's your point?» - «My point is that this performance is tiresome»

Harvey stared at him. He wasn’t stupid, he knew very well what Grigori was aiming at. But he was not about to admit that so easily. «What performance?» He asked innocently. «This one» Grigori gestured vaguely toward him. Harvey looked down at himself before meeting his gaze. «You'll have to be more specific» He got the words out around a growing smirk. A faint narrowing of the eyes told him Grigori recognized his own words being thrown back at him. Good. «The vulgarity. The deliberate ignorance. The incessant attempts to irritate everyone around you. You appear to have put considerable effort into becoming unpleasant» Harvey gave him a bright smile. «Thank you» His father almost scoffed. «It was not a compliment» Harvey shrugged, smile still in place. «Still taking it as one» The man briefly looked him over. «I assumed you would»

Harvey's smile faded as Grigori reached for his book. For some reason, panic sparked. That was it? No. Harvey had spent the entire journey trying to get the man's attention, and now that he was losing it… «Maybe this is just me» Grigori's hand stopped. Harvey immediately regretted he said it. «Perhaps» The word came slowly, with thought. «It is» Harvey shrugged. «Then you have become remarkably dull.» Harvey's mouth dropped open. He had been called many things through his short life so far, but dull was a new one entirely. «Screw you!» Grigori's gaze sharpened. Harvey almost expected a correction again, but it didn't come. It was not the blankness of someone unaffected. Harvey had the strange impression that Grigori had considered responding and simply decided Harvey wasn't worth breaking composure over. Harvey couldn't tell whether he had been forgiven the insult or merely allowed it. Somehow the second possibility stung considerably more. «You were an interesting child» The man said slowly. Harvey didn’t have the mental capacity to figure out why that was worse, but it was. Far, far worse. Monster was what he was now, and to Harvey it was clear they both knew it.

«Yeah, well, kids grow up» He demonstratively shook his head, as if trying to get rid of the entire topic of conversation. «They do» His father agreed. «Maybe I don't give a shit about being interesting to you anymore» Grigori considered his words. Harvey stared at him, refusing to give as much as an inch. «No» The answer was so simple it was almost ridiculous. Harvey's face heated. «No what?»
«You do not get to decide what I think»
«I can decide what I care about»
«Certainly»
«And I don't care» Grigori nodded once, taking in his words. «Then we understand one another» Somehow they had gone from ugly curtains to Dylan, from Dylan to his grades, from his grades to whatever the hell was wrong with him. Harvey wasn't entirely sure how Grigori had managed that stunt.

The agreement should have been a victory. It didn't feel like one. His father picked the book back up as Harvey stared at him. «That's it?» Grigori opened it to the marked page, his attention already slipping from Harvey’s grasp. «Was there something else?» Yes! …No. He didn't really know. There had to be something else, there simply had to. «What about Durmstrang?» He finally asked. Not his topic of choice, but at least it was something. The book remained open, but Grigori did not begin reading. «What about it?» Harvey squirmed a bit. It was a school, and could hardly be so different from what he was used to. Still, a small voice in the back of his head kept insisting he satisfy his curiosity. «What am I supposed to do there?» The answer was annoyingly short. «Attend» Maybe it had just been way too long since his dad was a student, but ‘attend’ could not in any way summarize what he was supposed to be and do there. «You know what I mean.»

Grigori closed the book again. Harvey hated the small pulse of satisfaction that came with it. Unexpectedly the man switched to speaking in English, as to underline words. His heavy accent did not help. «You will attend your lessons. You will complete the work assigned to you. You will behave appropriately toward your professors and the other students. You will not repeat whatever foolishness resulted in your removal from Ilvermorny. Lastly, you will not mention your parentage to anyone, under any circumstance» Russian was good enough for everything else. Apparently these particular words were important enough that Grigori wanted no possibility of Harvey pretending later that he hadn't understood. Harvey stared at him for a moment. It was pretty much what he had expected. Except the last one. A joke rose automatically, something about Grigori being embarrassed to claim him. It made it as far as the back of Harvey's teeth before stopping. There had been no change in volume, no sharper look, nothing he could point to that had changed to the worse. If anything, the faint irritation Harvey had spent the last hour cultivating had disappeared completely by the final sentence. Apparently that one wasn't part of the game.

«That's a rather long to-do list» His tone became neutral as his mind spun around the words. «Yes» Harvey considered opposing the ideas one by one, but settled on something far simpler. «What if I don't?» Grigori's expression didn't change. «You will» Something about the answer killed the next joke before he could make it. There was no or else attached to it. No threat, no raised voice, not even irritation. Grigori spoke as though Harvey had asked whether night would eventually fall. For one brief moment, Harvey believed him. He hated that enough to laugh.

Laughter erupting, he shook his head. «You really don't know me» He had built an entire reputation around never doing as he was told. He had no plans of changing that now. «Perhaps not» - «Then what makes you think I'm gonna suddenly turn into some perfect little rich kid because you tell me to?» Harvey crossed his arms, something close to disbelief crossing his expression. Yes adults were stupid and didn’t get much of anything, but he had expected at least something slightly different from his father. «I don't» That took some wind out of him. His expression morphed into the same one he had always had when he thought hard about something. «Then why…» He didn’t manage to finish his sentence, as he was cut off. «I expect you to exercise enough control over yourself that other people are not forced to do it for you.»

Harvey went quiet. They both knew it was no longer a topic of school and classrooms. Harvey's mind supplied the same flash of memory before he could stop it. «I have control» His voice was low when he finally spoke, with clear signs of hurt. Grigori looked at him. The weight of the unspoken disagreement made his stomach twist. «Most of the time…» No response. Harvey squirmed under the silence. «For god’s sake, I said I screwed up» He collapsed a bit with the admission. «And we have established that saying it does not interest me» Blunt as always, it made Harvey oppose it immediately. «What do you want me to do, get down on my knees and cry about it?»
«No»
«Then what?»
«Learn» Harvey scoffed. «Wow. Profound»
«It shouldn't need to be»

Silence settled, Harvey too angry to voice it in a way he wanted. The carriage rocked gently beneath them. Harvey shifted, trying to find a position that didn't make his back ache. The Lunar goddess had not been merciful this time, not that she ever was. His body was exhausted, and his fuse understandably short. Grigori's eyes flicked toward the movement before returning to his book. «Sit still» Harvey's shifting stopped immediately. For about moment he sat as if frozen. Then he seemed to notice himself, and bristled, shooting him a hard look. «I'm not moving» He huffed. Reaching their destination and getting some much needed space could not come soon enough. «That was not a question» He saw the statement for the wall and dead stop it was intended to be. Harvey's first instinct was, as always, to throw himself against it. His second was older than all the attitude he had built over the last few years: know when the other person could actually win. Usually he listened to that instinct. Usually. «Maybe I won't» He made his movement unnecessary big as he crossed his arms. If he was going to disobey, then he was at least going to make it clear that it was deliberate. «Then you will sit here until you do» A cold little prickle moved along Harvey's spine. He hated being made to stay anywhere. The carriage, even though it wasn’t horribly small, was already uncomfortable enough. «I'm twelve»
«I am aware»
«You can't just order me around»
«I can» It wasn't said like a boast. Then he could have laughed at it. Grigori said it with the same certainty he might have used to point out the weather, and Harvey suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that his father had spent most of his adult life telling people far more important than Harvey what they were going to do next.

«You're not even…» The words stopped, his throat going dry. Grigori paused, waiting for him to finish. Harvey's heart started beating much too hard for such a stupid conversation. You're not even my dad. He could say it. Henry wasn't either, and boy had he made that very clear. Grigori was, technically. Somehow that made the whole thing worse. He tried again, forcing the words out but they didn’t translate into sound. «I'm not what?» His father finally asked. Harvey avoided his father’s gaze and looked toward the window. «Nothing»

The silence stretched between them once again. Harvey continued staring outside the window. This time Grigori allowed him to look away. Eventually the man spoke up. «Durmstrang is not Ilvermorny» Harvey scoffed. «Yeah, I gathered that from the whole different-name thing» He might be playing stupid, but that didn’t mean he was. «You will find the expectations different» Obviously. The cultural differences alone would result in that. «Meaning?» He prompted, trying to keep his tone uninterested. «Meaning your current approach will not serve you particularly well»

Harvey snorted. So they were back to this. Maybe he should leave well enough alone. He definitely should. But doing so had never been one of his strengths. «Maybe I'll get expelled from there too» He stated with a shrug. «No» The word was immediate. Harvey looked over, puckering his mouth in mock though. «You seem real confident, but I don’t know about that» His father put away the book, only to focus on a pile of documents he pulled from the bag beside him. «You misunderstand me» Grigori's voice remained perfectly level, as if Harvey hadn’t spoken at all. «You will not be expelled from Durmstrang» Something about the certainty made Harvey uneasy. His father had connections for sure, probably way more than he could imagine. The disturbing part was that Grigori did not sound hopeful. He didn't even sound confident. Confidence implied the possibility of being wrong. This sounded closer to a decision that had already been made.«What, you gonna bribe them?»
«No»
«Threaten them?»
«No»
«Then how do you know?»

«Because you are not going to give them reason to expel you» Harvey barked out another laugh. It came a fraction too quickly. The Russian man truly did not know him at all. «And we're back to this» He leant back in his seat. His fathers continued attention at the documents was starting to irritate him. «We never left it» Then why was he still harping on about it? He knew himself well enough to know the plan about behaving would hardly work for long. «I already told you. I'm not gonna become whatever perfect little thing you've got planned» It would be as impossible as trying to take back the incident at Ilvermorny. «I have no interest in perfection» His father stated it simply, as if explaining something to a toddler. «Could've fooled me» The words came easy. Granted he did not know his father’s pattern of reaction, but he was starting to understand it nonetheless. Grigori did not wait and give him the chance to continue. «Perfection is rarely useful. Competence is» The man stated, shuffling the documents in his hands.

Harvey grimaced. «God, you sound boring» His father did not look up and his voice as steady as ever. «And yet you have spent the last hour attempting to keep my attention» Silence. Harvey felt as though he'd been slapped with a brick. Not because the words were cruel. No, it was far simpler than that. The statement was true. «I have not» His mouth formed the words for him on instinct as his head raced to catch up. Grigori said nothing. «I was bored» Still nothing. «There was literally nothing else to do» He scrambled for more. It couldn’t end like this, he was losing. Worse, Grigori wasn't even making him prove it. He had simply put the truth between them and left Harvey to fight with it alone. «You're so freaking full of yourself» He scoffed. Grigori picked up the documents he had temporarily lowered, but did not look at them quite yet. «You will be exemplary at Durmstrang» Harvey stared before crossing his arms. «No»
«You will apply yourself academically»
«I don’t think so»
«You will follow instruction»
«Hard pass»
«You will learn when speaking serves you and when silence would serve you better»
«Sounds terrible»
«You used to understand the distinction»

Harvey's fingers tightened. As if he was less competent now?! It was the impression he was trying to give, but still. How the conversation kept flipping like this he could not understand. Eyeing victory one moment, and scrambling the next. «I was six» His father nodded. «You were»
«Six-year-olds are stupid»
«You weren't» He hated how quickly the answer came. He hated the following warmth spreading in his chest even more. Harvey sank deeper into the seat. «Whatever» Grigori raised the documents a fraction more, glancing down at them. «Have I made myself clear?» Harvey considered being difficult. It was right there. Easy. He could say no. Ask him to repeat the entire thing. Tell him he hadn't been listening. Make another comment about Russia. Call him an asshole again. Three considerably more disrespectful responses came to mind. He discarded them all without quite admitting to himself why. «Yeah» The words came easy came begrudgingly. Grigori looked at him over the top of the parchment and Harveys jaw tightened. «Yes» A moment passed. Then Grigori gave a small nod. «Good»

Something warm unfurled in Harvey's stomach. Immediate, familiar, and horrible. For half a second there was grass under his shoes instead of a carriage beneath his feet. A baseball flying toward him. Leather closing around it with a satisfying smack. Good. A little boy grinning so hard his cheeks hurt, already throwing the ball back because if he threw it well enough maybe his dad would say it again. Harvey turned sharply toward the window. Clouds. Nothing but clouds. His throat felt tight. Behind him came the quiet rustle of parchment shifting. He shoved his hands beneath his arms and stared out until his own reflection disappeared into the glass. Stupid. He was twelve years old. He didn't need a fucking pat on the head. And he definitely didn't need one from him. That was at least what he desperately tried convincing himself of for the rest of the journey.