Ivan Volgin, unaware of the misfortunes befalling his friend.
"Stop dozing off in the middle of the day, young man!" The voice, as sharp as a drumbeat, reached Ivan, who was peacefully doing nothing, accompanied by a sharp smack to the back of his head — his mother never shied away from a little physical discipline.
He would have much preferred a verbal scolding like Adal received. He could easily ignore words, which wasn't possible when there was a physical interruption to a Russian wizard's favorite pastime.
"Aw, mo-o-om..." Ivan attempted a useless appeal to his mother's sense of reason. But it failed even before he could muster up the energy to make a pitiful face.
A second smack knocked the last remnants of his half-sleep state away, confirming his earlier thoughts.
"Summer break is not an excuse to do absolutely nothing, Vanya!" The thirty-nine-year-old woman stared at him with the most menacing intentions.
"Aaah... Why all the complaints in the middle of the day... I already told you everything about Durmstrang..." he muttered lazily, trying again to fend off his mother's reprimands.
"Leaving aside the tone in which you 'told' me everything, it's obvious enough, you lazy bum. You dumped it all on someone else."
"I acted like a smart person," Ivan rejected these... what did Adal call them again? Oh right, baseless accusations.
"Yeah, brains are the only thing you inherited from your father," she remarked, knowing full well that such comments sailed right through her son's ears without touching his brain.
"That's enough for me..." Ivan replied lazily, shifting to a sitting position on his chair and staring longingly at the table, which seemed so inviting for a nap.
"Your lazy opinion doesn't count here," his mother dismissed him, continuing to bore into him with a demanding gaze.
"Go and... take Sophia's books on Practical Dark Magic away. I can't handle seeing that house-elf stoned out of its mind again."
"Watch your mouth!" His mother made another attempt to slap him, but this time Ivan was ready and dodged, though nearly tumbling in the process. "Sophia, unlike you, is actively interested in magic, instead of lazing around."
"Ugh, I shouldn't have mentioned her..." Ivan groaned, resigning himself to his fate and exaggerating his misery. His mother somehow always took it at face value, though.
"...Anyway, you lazy bum, that's not why I came to talk to you," her words made Ivan raise his eyebrows in surprise. This was a serious deviation from the norm. Normally, she would continue her scolding for another five minutes, engaging in her favorite "educational" activities. Completely useless, of course, but still... "Get up. It's time for lunch."
Staring at the ceiling in thought, Ivan fixed his gaze on a single point. Something about this was definitely strange. His mother's unusual behavior signaled that something serious — and undoubtedly something he wouldn't want to deal with — was coming. He wanted to find a way out, but judging by the determined look in her eyes, there was no escape.
Which meant it was time to stop delaying the inevitable question:
"Did something happen?"
"You'll find out over lunch," his mother cut him off. "Now get up."
"Alright..." With a sigh, Ivan got up and followed his mother through the halls of the manor.
Their home, located on the Volga River, sat right at the gateway to the Magical World. Typically, pure-blood families built their residences in such places — some in the magical world, others in the Muggle world. Their family was among the latter, as they had once been legitimate boyars, serving as advisors on magical affairs to various princes and even tsars.
In imperial times, however, they had to hide their magic, no longer practicing it openly. They were forced to disguise their abilities as mere charlatanry so that the Russian Ministry of Magic wouldn't suspect anything, which provided a steady income from wealthy Muggle aristocrats who were more than willing to pay for such "miracles." This was how Ivan's ancestors came to possess extensive rights to iron mines.
Later, they wisely erased all traces of this from the records, so that today, Muggles didn't even realize there was far more iron ore in their lands than they knew.
At last, they reached the dining room, where his father and younger sister were already seated. His father greeted him with a nod, while his sister had snuck a book to the table and blatantly ignored him. That was a mistake…
"Sophia!" came the expected voice of their mother. "Put the book down. You can read after you've eaten."
"Aw, mo-o-om..." she protested with a pitiful look. Ivan groaned inwardly. Why did it work so well for her, but not for him? Even when he tried his best. Women... he thought.
"I understand, dear, but put the book away," their mother insisted. Under the stern gaze of the household matriarch (no matter what their father thought), Sophia reluctantly set the book aside, to Ivan's mild satisfaction.
Soon, the family sat together at the rectangular table, with their parents on one side and Ivan and his sister on the other.
A Russian wizard's lunch was a large affair, a tradition from before the Statute of Secrecy. Cold meats would be followed by soups like shchi and various other stews, all prepared by the house-elf. If, after that, you weren't completely stuffed, there would be roasts and dairy dishes. And if you somehow still had room and a desire for more, the meal would usually conclude with traditional sweets — gingerbread, honey cakes, candies... and a whole lot of other desserts.
Their house-elf Tilly was quite used to preparing such a feast, and his speed and skill in cooking were unmatched, even among his peers.
But all good things come to an end, and so did the extensive lunch.