Divination Classroom [October, 2028; Dark Future]

Lonely footsteps echoed through the halls. It was only a single person, though by the combination of actual steps and shuffles one would think there were two. Sevastyan Kaminski looked worse for wear despite his new, sinister look... almost as if he’d been beaten and then deliberately deprived of sleep before running through a gauntlet. His skin was pallid but his eyes were home to reddened dark circles; his face was a bit more drawn than before. Once again, Sevastyan had been drinking. What must his children think of him? In addition he’d also nearly stopped eating regular meals, and had for some while now delved into the dark arts more than he had in the past two decades. He was tired, yet couldn’t sleep... hungry, but couldn’t eat. The nightmare would return again, one of its segments more vivid than the others. He didn’t know what it all meant, but it disturbed him greatly.


Sevastyan sighed when he realized he was nearly to the Divination classroom. It was an utterance of relief, although for the trek’s final steps or because he might be able to learn about this nightmare was hard to say.

Doleful pools of gloomy gray glanced upward toward the classroom, the ladder awaiting any newcomer to scale its wrungs. Sevastyan hadn’t really put much store in Divination when he was in Durmstrang. Perhaps the professor might be able to help him interpret his dream, or a part of it. He wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to share his dreams with anyone save his own wife, but this particular one was really bothering him. Furthermore, Amaranth wasn’t exactly nearby and willing to listen to anything he said. Or, at least, that was his take on their wilted rose of a relationship.

Thus, with an unsteady hand, Sevastyan grasped the ladder and attempted to climb. Had he been entirely sober it would’ve been easier, but the alcohol made him unsteady on his feet.


Arriving in the classroom, the wizard put as much space between him and the hole leading back down as he could. This, of course, was after much stumbling around on various chairs and cushions... as well as his own two feet. He glanced around for the professor, noticing how inviting the room looked. Like a living room... Sevastyan couldn’t help but imagine Lara and Demyan playing on the many pieces of furniture, with Amaranth holding and playing with Lynn. Eventually Sevastyan had to tear his eyes away from both real and imagined scenes, a pain so familiar yet foreign sinking its claws into his heart and head. His family wasn’t like that anymore... it was broken. Ruined... And it was all his fault. Not even the Dark Arts had been able to make things right, despite his obvious attempts.

“H-Hello?” Sevastyan called, running a hand through his short hair nervously. Perhaps if she wasn’t here the professor wouldn’t mind him curling up in here to escape the world for a little while...

Up above, safe in her tower, Celeste sat upon a pillow, staring deep in thought at a Crystal Ball. Life had become rather difficult this past decade, what with the Purgers after the majority of the staff’s blood. Not a day went by that Celeste did not count her blessings for having been born to a family of simple scholars, and being no more than a simple Seer that the Purgers saw little purpose for, as it guaranteed her’s and her son’s safety. Still, despite her lack of involvement in regards to the threat of the Purgers, she still felt sympathy and empathy for her friends and colleagues, especially as she witness the multiple deaths and bouts of pain and sorrow that had been catalyzed by the Purgers.

At the sound of another’s voice emitting from her classroom, Celeste froze. While she had little to fear in regards to intruders and Purgers, one couldn’t help being too careful. Especially as the Hogwarts staff itself had reduced rather significantly recently. “Wh-Who is there?” she called out as she tentatively approached.

She jumped slightly at the sight of Sevastyan’s new look, but quickly calmed herself, placing her hand over her chest to control the rapid beating. “Oh, Professor Kaminski, it’s you. Forgive me, but you gave me a fright. Is there something I may help you with?” she asked with a pleasant smile.

While Sevastyan had donned his new look for quite sometime now, Celeste couldn’t help but feel that his previous look suited him better, particularly without the new skin shade and darkened, red-rimmed eyes. A twinge of sympathy coursed through her as she remembered the rather difficult marital aspect of life occurring in his life at the moment. While she wasn’t all that close to either Sevastyan or his wife, she had managed to learn the basics of their problem and occasional bit of new developments via the grape vine and her own predictions.

“Please, do have a seat.” She said, gesturing to the small table for two, complete with a crystal ball in between them, as she made her way towards him. “May I offer you something to drink?” she added mentally to herself. Preferably something without alcohol…

Sevastyan jumped shortly after she did, though out of reflex. For a fleeting moment he couldn’t help but muse upon the Divination Professor having jumped worse than Amaranth had flinched the last time she’d been in his presence. Then again, this was an unannounced visit and not even the safest among the staff – not that there were many – could be too careful. “Sorry to startle and bother you, Professor Cromvell...” he began, words slightly slurred. The expression on his face looked like a cross between broken and concerned, with the slightest twinge of irritability that came from lack of a proper night’s sleep. He knew he looked like Hell, even without the changes he’d made to his appearance.

It was the drinking and ever-increasing insomnia... it was his need to make certain the children were safe...

His heart yearning for the return of a love long since lost... flown away...

The Russian wizard murmured his thanks at the offer of a seat, uncoordinatedly selecting one of the two available seats to nearly fall into. Sevastyan didn’t even notice the crystal ball at first. At the offer of something to drink, he considered the offer for several moments. He had alcohol with him... but yet compared to how graceful he’d been on the ladder – which is to say not graceful at all – it would likely be best to have something that didn’t lower his reflex time. “... Tea, please...?” Sevastyan croaked, the day’s alcohol intake having left his throat raw and his lips chapped. He didn't need a mirror to tell that the look he gave his colleague was a rather pitiful one, indeed... reminiscent of but not quite mimicking the look of a sad, stray dog.

He placed his forehead in both of his hands, elbows resting upon the table and fingers easily tangling in the short lengths of slightly ‘frosted’, raven locks. “I have been having... a recurring dream... nightmare... votever the hell it is, for veeks,” he explained, his voice sounding every single one of his forty-five years, if not more. “Divination vos unfortunately not vone of my stronger subjects, at Durmstrang...”

“I don’t know vot else to do about it, other than try to find out vot it could possibly mean. It is vone of many things affecting everything I do or try to do of late...”

It took a moment for the slurred cadence to translate and register in the Divination Professor's mind, but once they had, Celeste made haste to brush off her colleague's apology with gentleness. "It's no worry at all. In fact, forgive me. If anything, I myself have been rather jumpy, as of late." she explained with a soft, reassuring smile. She couldn't help but feel sympathy for the younger wizard; what with the marital problems occurring between him and his wife, and their three young children involved. Not to mention the fact that his apparent drinking reminded her a great deal of her second husband and the father of her child, Gianpaulo Balducci, whose incessant drinking lead to the crumbling of their own happy marriage...

Right then and there, her resolve to help the Defense Professor and his estranged wife strengthened. She'd do all in her power, both otherworldly and not, to reunite them.

She watched with worried eyes, as he seemed to stumble rather than walk as he chose a seat, and wondered if perhaps she should ask another colleague to come as well, in case the alcohol got the better of him. While she knew a fair amount of spells to help the situation, Celeste wasn't too keen on the idea of attempting to lift a passed out colleague on her own, particularly back down the ladder. She was a klutz enough as it was, without the added person's weight and magic.

"Ah! Yes! Wonderful! Tea is always very very good. Very relaxing. Not to mention easier on the throat." she responded eagerly with positive energy, with the air of someone attempting to promote and sell tea. In a way, she was. In her mind, she thought perhaps that if she were able to encourage other beverages, perhaps the alcohol would be placed to the side a bit more often. After all, some teas such as chamomile provided the same relief as alcohol. Just... minus the slurring and lack of coordination.

“I have been having... a recurring dream... nightmare... votever the hell it is, for veeks,”

Auburn eyebrows rose in interest at the information presented as she summoned and handed Sevastyan a cup of tea, tea leaves included for a reading later on. "Indeed?" she asked. "And not to worry. We all have our talents and vices. Why, I myself cannot cast a corporeal patronus." she added with a gentle smile, hoping to ease Sevastyan into a more comfortable aura by sharing a personal fact with him.

“I don’t know vot else to do about it, other than try to find out vot it could possibly mean. It is vone of many things affecting everything I do or try to do of late...”

"Don't you worry..." she soothed softly, tentatively placing her hand over Sevastyan's in what she hoped he would perceive as a comforting, supportive gesture. "Just speak slowly, mio caro, and tell me exactly what haunts you at night. We'll get to the bottom of it all. I promise."

Despite the professor’s gentle, reassuring demeanor, Sevastyan could only feel shame at having come to her in his drunken state. The demon of doubt in his mind tried to convince him that the Divination professor thought him nothing more than a worthless drunk – that the whole school would soon know if they didn’t already that their Defense professor was a drunk and a failure! But he needed help. Not even the vodka was keeping the nightmares away. Sevastyan nodded at Celeste’s explanation, understanding despite his mind being quite thoroughly vodka-soaked. An added layer of color to his cheeks surfaced at just how knowingly the professor was gazing at him. It was like she knew of the pain he was in... perhaps a marriage of hers had turned bitter by some circumstance similar to his own? The wizard did not find it his place to ask. Instead, he attempted to get comfortable, going about it somewhat unceremoniously.

Sevastyan kept his eyes on the table’s surface, though did chance a brief glance in the other professor’s direction. What he wouldn’t give for a certain pair of green eyes to look that worried for him again. What the wizard wouldn’t give for everything to be as it once was. He would sell his very soul for it, if he knew he stood any chance in regaining what he’d lost. Even if it were only for a day before Amaranth returned to whatever existence she was living without him... Merlin, he wished he knew what she was doing now!

The wizard barely even heard the other professor’s comment on tea, but had caught the gist of it purely by the tone she used. He wasn’t entirely sure tea would be as effective in erasing his pain as he was trying to achieve with the vodka... but Sevastyan wasn’t about to say so. Last thing he wanted was to seem ungrateful for a colleague’s help. And, he had to admit, tea probably would be easier on his throat – it was already rather raw from several days of constant alcohol consumption. At least when drinking tea he would not be reminded so completely of Amaranth to the point of inadvertently adding salty tears to the beverage. It had been their beverage of choice for nearly a whole decade... and now he was imbibing in it alone. It was bad luck to drink alone, but in Sevastyan’s mind there wasn’t much more that bad luck could do to him now.

“Thank you...” he murmured softly as Celeste handed him a cup of the prepared tea. It smelled rather good, and he could see yet wasn’t at all surprised at the fact there were loose tea leaves in the beverage. Even in his inebriated state he knew they would be for reading later. Gray orbs rose from contemplating the table as she spoke of talents and vices, softening at her admission. Sevastyan offered the witch a small smile in return, slightly more comfortable despite that little demon of doubt still at the back of his head trying to make him sink further into darkness.

"Don't you worry... Just speak slowly, mio caro, and tell me exactly what haunts you at night. We'll get to the bottom of it all. I promise."

His brow and forehead creased with worry anyway, almost uncertain now if he really did want to get to the bottom of what his mind was trying to tell him. It was like how he had been... that morning: wanting so badly to know every detail, only to have been hurt several times worse than if he hadn’t known, and wish he’d never been told. A prime example of the phrase: ‘curiosity killed the cat’. What if his subconscious was trying to tell him that he would never be the one to cause Amaranth’s eyes to brighten again? That he was destined to live the rest of his days romantically lonely, never to feel a woman’s loving caress until long after he’d gone cold and dead... a caress for him from Amaranth only until after his spirit had departed, if he was even lucky enough to receive that? Sevastyan wasn’t sure he could handle such a notion. But it’s always better late than never, isn’t it?

The Russian’s hand jerked at the sensation of a hand covering his – a sudden flash of memory he thought was kept under lock and key slamming into his chest full force – yet relaxed a second later. Stormy eyes enshrouded in a mist of unshed tears gazed at the pair of hands desolately for a moment; his ears taking in Celeste’s every word. As though weighed down by lead, Sevastyan nodded slowly and took a sip of tea. He wasn’t even sure how to begin his tale, and hoped his colleague would not find him weak or pathetic once he had revealed all he could remember.

Sevastyan couldn’t help but berate himself for not having gone to his own wife with this... but the pain felt on both sides was much too great to even say ‘hello’ in the corridors, much less pour out one’s soul about a fictional hell. He already felt uncomfortably naked around not just Viper but everyone he came in contact with. Like all of his imperfections were out there for all to see upon a billboard of betrayal. It was irrational, of course, and he knew it... but it is often exceedingly difficult to convince the heart to have the same opinions as the mind.

“The nightmare starts out vith my falling, and unable to use magic to stop or slow the fall... and ven I finally stop, I find I am in a rather desolate valley I’ve never seen before,” he explained slowly, still a bit hesitant even though in his opinion the truly nightmarish portion had yet to be told. “I... I easily become lost, vith no clue as to how to get back home. Around ven I think of apparating, I suddenly notice that I am in several places wrapped vith bandages and that they are stained vith blood.”

Sevastyan paused there to give his colleague time to ponder upon the dream thus far and ask any particular counter-questions, taking another sip of his tea. He sighed as the hot liquid soothed the damage he’d done to his throat. Now if only tea had the ability to mend a heart broken seemingly beyond repair... and turn the monster he felt he’d become back into the wizard he used to be.

As Celeste noticed Sevastyan's brow crease with worry, she smiled gently and reassuringly, not wanting to rush him or prod him into hastening his explanation. When working with something as personal as one's dreams and emotions, it wasn't unusual at all to encounter a few bumps. After all, dreams were wishes a heart makes and longs for, so to share such a personal aspect of oneself is no light matter, for it's a literal action of putting one's heart upon their sleeve, for all their sleeve. Therefore, Celeste waited patiently with empathy, pleased that despite the fact that they had never quite had a close-knit relationship between them and were more of friendly, acquaintance-like colleagues, he still felt able to go to her and seek her aid. That was the problem with choosing a life of the tower, as Celeste had. You distance yourself in the name of research and such, and, without meaning to, make yourself a loner.

As she gazed into his troubled, grey orbs, she couldn't help but wonder what it was he was thinking. Well, she had a few rather good guesses, all related to the reasons he was here, but the witch wondered what exactly it was, what form and demon in particular it was that haunted him. A part of her was tempted to sneak a glance into his mind via legilimency, to get a clear, undiluted, unaltered answer, but she resisted the urge. As a seer, a person's privacy was always of immense importance. They came to her for her aid, bringing a certain matter, sharing an aspect of their lives. It would be completely unethical to go beyond the privacy and personal matters they allowed her access to. And besides, if all went well and the complete details of Sevastyan's dream were revealed, there would be no need to pry into his mind. After all, often does the subconscious know more than an alert mind, for within the world of dreams are all secrets revealed, with no cold, cruel facades and dances of denial.

The Seer couldn't help but jump slightly at Sevastyan's jerk upon her hand resting upon his. She had only meant it as a gesture of comfort and had tried to convey it as a means of support, only to startle him. She smiled apologetically before slowly pulling away, thinking she had perhaps offended him as well, possibly by pushing the button in regards to personal space and bubbles. Her thoughts halted though as she noticed the unshed tears glazing his eyes, as the crystal ball became clear within Celeste's mind. It wasn't that he disliked the contact or was angered by it. Merely surprised, for chances were, it was his wife who had held him last, and Merlin only knew how long ago that had been.

Feeling an empathic wave of sorrow wash over her, Celeste vowed then and there to do all in her power as a witch and Seer to aid the wizard in any way she could. Her handful of divorces had served to teach her many things, but the first and foremost weighed forever heavily engraved upon her mind: Every marriage that could be saved should be saved. She had seen Amaranth Viper walking through the halls on occasion. If what the former Potions Mistress did could even be called walking. If anything, in Celeste's opinion, it was more of a dazed, hypnotic, trance-like walk of sorrow, pain, and regret. That, coupled with the pained expression and state of the Defense Professor before her only strengthened Celeste's conclusion and resolve to help the estranged couple reunite and a family to be complete once more. After all, time heals all wounds, and what better to heal and mend the shards of broken hearts if not time, understanding, and unbreakable love?

“The nightmare starts out vith my falling, and unable to use magic to stop or slow the fall... and ven I finally stop, I find I am in a rather desolate valley I’ve never seen before,”

Brown orbs met grey, listening intently, drinking in every syllable and word offered, bringing the very definition of a Ravenclaw into the art of Divination. As she listened, she conjured her deck of Tarot cards, intending to have Sevastyan cut them to gain further insight to his dilemma. A faint wince of sympathy appeared on her face as the face of the demon that lingered within his mind's eye deep into the night. The maternal side of her emerged, tempting Celeste to cross over to him and engulf the younger Professor within her arms, yet having seen his reaction to the touch of her hand, she resisted the urge. For now, at least. Instead, she focused on the cards at hand, shuffling them momentarily, before turning her attention back to him, and replying her diagnosis.

“I... I easily become lost, vith no clue as to how to get back home. Around ven I think of apparating, I suddenly notice that I am in several places wrapped vith bandages and that they are stained vith blood.”

"Often... dreams express what torments us, pains us, and consumes us. It is only in dreams that our minds open and the masks we carry, such as denial, are deconstructed, leaving us free to haunt or be haunted. It is only in dreams that we are both strong and weak, trapped between the great divide of fantasy and realty.

When I speak of dream interpretation, you must know that there is no concrete answer. You will find that some meanings fit just as the slipper did for Cinderella. Other times, you will find that the answer only leads to an even greater mystery. Such is the art of dream interpretation and Divination. As a Seer, I can only show you the signs that surround you. It is up to you to utilize the pieces I find for you to formulate the answer to your enigma. For you to receive the full benefit of my services, you must understand this. You must know that I speak vaguely and that truly, it is only you who can solve the mystery of these monsters. Just as it is only you who can defeat them."

She paused a moment, looking for sign of understanding and agreement, before continuing onward. "Falling within a dream represents imbalance, and a sense of wandering. The inability to save yourself refers to a situation in which you are affected by that beyond your control, and are left helpless to your own fate, unable to fight it. Your guidance and beacon of the night is gone, leaving you lost in the darkest blue of sorrow, trapped within an unknown labyrinth in which you have no memory or recollection of, and no means to escape. Without direction, you are left paralyzed and bleeding, with no one to help you. But yet... there is hope, Sevastyan. Even in our solemn hours, is there still a beginning towards our happiness and the healing of a heartache." she assured the wizard, answering truthfully. After all, had it been true despair, with no means of recovery, Celeste felt sure Sevastyan would have seen himself openly bleeding, with no chance of survival. Perceiving that perhaps Sevastyan would not see the hope in his current state, she continued to explain.

"A bandaged wound is one that has been treated. When one is injured, do we not bandage the wound, and later return to the bandage to check for improvement? Perhaps the wound may still become infected and there isn't a complete guarantee of a true recovery, but with the care present, such a recovery is only likely. Granted, the road along the way will be painful, possibly seemingly hopeless, with no chance at relief or deliverance in sight, but in the end, it will only get better." she leaned closer to him slightly, adding with full conviction. "Even the darkest of tunnels can still be caressed by light. Within our solemn hours, there is still a beginning towards our happiness. Sevastyan... there is still hope,"

Gazing upon the wizard carefully, Celeste observed his reaction to hr interpretation. She sincerely hoped he would take it to heart and not brush it to the side as further divination nonsense like many other skeptical witches and wizards tended to do. If not for him, if not for his wife, than perhaps for the children. After all, children always suffered the worse and greatest pain during a divorce.