((OOC: Donald's Outfit)) 

Quidditch wasn’t entirely going well for Ravenclaw this year. While they didn’t win last year, either the 14-year-old felt that they had done a pretty decent job last year and finished strongly. After all, they were runners-up in that year. However, this year they seemed to be struggling, and Donald felt that he was to blame. It might have been wrong for him to blame himself, after all, they didn’t do that badly last year. At least not in his opinion. He pondered if the change of broom had caused issues. His old teammate Caerus Nott gave him a Firebolt 2017 last year, and Donnie had been using it ever since. It was a good broom, a whole lot better than his old one. The young lad thought he had been getting used to it and decided that couldn’t be the problem. However, he did make a mental note to owl Caerus and see how things were going. That would not be weird right?

Thinking about his old teammates, it occurred to him that it might be the new team that was part of the issue. Maybe the new captain was not quite as good as the old one, or some of the other players were not as skilled as last year’s team? He decided that this probably wasn’t the case either. Maybe the captain, Lyla Graves, wasn’t as good as LJ? But he pushed that thought away as being unworthy of him. Of course, Lyla was a good captain, and he liked her. It wasn’t her fault nor was it his teammates' fault. That only left him at fault.

It didn’t occur to the fourth year to think that it wasn’t his fault at all and, instead the other teams have gotten stronger. Or that his own team was merely having a run of bad luck. That sometimes happens to sports teams.

Donnie was concerned about his team, worried that his performance was to blame, and anxious that he may get the blame and be thrown off the team. He needed to practice harder and harder; he needed to do better and make sure that he caught the snitch. It was his job as Ravenclaw seeker to do that, and he believed, rightly or wrongly, that he was failing in that.

It had crossed his mind to hand in his resignation to the team and apologise (probably non-stop knowing him) to his teammates and housemates for being such a complete and utter failure. The Welsh boy felt like crying over it He sighed a bit as he tried to fight the tears that were starting to well up in his brown eyes. Donald didn’t want to fail anyone; he didn’t want to be the one that was causing Ravenclaw to lose.

Maybe the pale-skinned youngster was putting a bit too much pressure onto himself, and he needed to relax a bit. Perhaps he didn’t need to be stressing himself so much over quidditch. It was only a game after all. At least that is what his sister would probably tell him if she saw him being so upset over it. But it wasn’t just a game, it was important, Making his parents proud of him, not letting own his teammates and helping Ravenclaw house pride were all very important to the young boy.

The spiky-haired lad leaned on his broom at the edge of the quidditch pitch and wiped his eyes a bit. He didn’t come out here to start crying like a big baby. He came out here to practice quidditch. Boys were not meant to cry after all. He began to feel more pathetic for his failure and weakness. Some of his other shortcomings then crept into his mind. His ongoing issues with transfiguration were always a concern for him that made him feel so stupid that he couldn’t even get basic transfiguration spells right.

Then there was still the confusions he had going around about his sexuality or was it asexuality? It was something that he was still getting used to. Don was not sure if he was ace, but he also didn’t feel attracted to either men nor women. It was odd; it was something that still worried him a bit.

The 14-year-old then wondered about his perceived lack of friends. Was he really that dislikeable? Was there really something that wrong with him that made everyone think of him as some kind of idiot that was best to be ignored, or rejected? Even worse some people, not in his house and mostly not in his year either, but some people did bully Donald. The Welsh wizard just couldn’t figure out why he was such an easy target for them. He didn’t do anyone any harm. But for some reason, he felt that he warranted their scorn.

In fact, the fourth year started to wonder where he fitted into everything? Life just was so confusing at the moment. His struggles with school, with social life, with quidditch, with his own sense of self, was just stressful for him. Sometimes he felt like he just wanted to crawl into the corner somewhere and for the whole world to swollen him up.

Why am I such a failure at everything a failure at everything Don thought to himself, no longer holding back the tears, nor trying to. Crying on the quidditch pitch wasn’t that sensible either, but now he was doing that to. So that was another thing for him to add to his growing list of inadequacies. All he needed now was for a fellow quidditch player to come onto the pitch and start laughing at him for being so pathetic. But then, he felt that he would deserve that if they did. He was pitiful and right now he believed that he didn’t deserve happiness. He was just weak, pathetic and stupid.

Life gets a little bit crazy

And we all get a little hazy
But you know, we can't be perfect
And we all are so worth it

Dima was good at pretending. He was good at making himself fit where he needed to in order to get by, and he didn't want to have to do that anymore. When his brothers roamed the Hogwarts halls he hadn't really had a choice. They ruled over him, over his choice of friends, his choice of words even... He had learned in five school years that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and keep close to the people he knew wouldn't cause him problems. People like Vet, Mona, and Emily-- although there were a few weeks at the beginning of third year that even his fellow beater had been a problem, what with that whole....ordeal. But, luckily for him, that was something short lived. After all pureblood girls were off limits, and he was never going to question that with Alek and Phief over his shoulder.

But they were gone now and in a way he was finally free. He had never felt that way before and it was....odd, and new. Every day had been a struggle to pry himself out of the little box he had spent five years shoving himself into, but once he did... Merlin, he found that he was actually a friendly person? And much to his surprise people were actually friendly back? Why it was a surprise to him had only made him question himself. He didn't know what he had expected-- maybe he thought everyone ought to be mean to him. Or hate him. Or think him a total idiot, like his brothers sometimes treated him. In truth he didn't know what to think of himself let alone what others would think about him. There were days he felt that he was alright...and some days where he didn't.

There were days when no matter what he did he couldn't strike a single Chaser no matter how aimed his bludgers might have been. There were days when he couldn't get a spell correct during Defense class, which was so goddamn embarrassing seeing as he was the bloody Dueling Club leader! He had expectations of himself that he didn't always live up to and it was really hard not to take it too hard. When his brothers were around he had always taken it out on himself in the worst ways, and they had praised him for it. For accepting that he would deal with inadequacies because of the muggle blood in his body. It was something that they had pushed on him that had never quite sat right. That he was to just accept that he wasn't fast enough, strong enough, smart enough, good enough simply because of some flaw of genetics. He wouldn't believe that. He couldn't, really. 

So there were times that he pushed himself too hard just to prove them wrong, and some good had come from that. He was becoming a better beater every year, though sometimes it didn't quite feel that way. He was getting better with his spells. And, starting new this year, he was getting on better with himself. It must be something that showed because as he pushed himself out of his box he found that, for whatever reason, he was mostly well received. He had made new friends, like Sawyer, and even managed to let those off-limit pureblood girls closer to him, like Astraea and Zoe.

He had never imagined in a million eons that he would ever date Zoe Shafiq. Actually, he imagined himself being instantly murdered by his brothers once they found out he was dating a pureblood girl, but lately....he didn't really care. He liked her. A lot, actually, and he found out that they were both dealing with families who wanted them to do shit that they didn't want to. Turns out, the way the other half lives really wasn't too different from the way he did. It was nice to have someone who knew what that was like, someone who brought out the rebellion in him that he was already striving for that year. And it was just nice to have Zoe in general. 

Dima had to almost laugh at his teams luck against hers this year-- she and the rest of the Gryffindors had whooped them twice already. While he wanted to be all brooding and pissy over the loss, he couldn't be. Their seeker was a quick little shit, and-- as much as he hated to admit it-- he just could never seem to hit Zoe no matter how truly aimed his bludger was. He had argued that maybe she was just a very very good chaser, or maybe his subconscious mind was thwarting him. At any rate hew as beginning to feel a little bad for their losses against them as of late. 

At least we don't have to play them again, he sighed thinking to himself as he worked his way to the quidditch pitch. It was a path he knew well, considering he took it every day, but today it was a lonely trek. He had thought to invite Sawyer to practice with him so that he could properly congratulate her on her win against Slytherin....and then kick her butt in practice, but he had stopped himself. Their next match was against Hufflepuff and something felt wrong to practice with her right before it. Not that it is right before, he argued to himself as he noticed the familiar figure of his teams seeker up head.

Dima smiled as he approached the boy only to have it fall when he heard something that sounded like...crying? "Westwood? You alright?" Dima questioned gently. He came closer to the young Ravenclaw and saw the tears. Merlin, how tears brought out the protective older brother instincts in him. Usually it was Mona's tears that brought it up, but not today. "Hey," he soothed, placing his hand on the lad's shoulder. His cool blue eyes looked over the little seeker. He didn't seem hurt, physically at least. "What's wrong?"

Donald Leonardo Westwood | Outfit | Notes:

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0

Donnie felt like such a wuss, such a weakling for crying. He felt pathetic for crying in public, or for crying at all. It was not something that 14-year-old boys were meant to do, but he found that he couldn’t help himself as his feelings started to sweep through. The paradox of it was that the shame of crying just made the youngster want to cry even more. The very last thing that Donald wanted right now was someone to find him crying. He didn’t know if it would be worse if someone from a rival quidditch team saw him, if someone who was not a quidditch player did, if a professor did or if his own teammate found him. All seemed to be mortifying to him.

However, Don was too deep in his own misery to really notice Dima approach him. In some ways, it would be a relief to him that it was actually a teammate who came across him. At least they would be willing to help him out, and not try to mock or discourage him like some members of a rival quidditch team might do to throw the wee boy off is his game, as poor as he believed that might be at the moment.

He looked over to his teammate with a bit of surprise and worry. Was his older housemate going to think badly of him for crying like a wuss? The fourth-year wondered if he should lie to the Ravenclaw beater and tell him that nothing was wrong. But he supposed that it was a bit too late for him to do that. After all, Dima had already caught him crying, there was no point in the Ravenclaw seeker trying to pretend that he wasn’t crying or that something wasn’t bothering him. He was pretty sure that the older boy would believe that.

Perhaps it would help the young lad to talk to someone about it? He mused it over briefly in his head. He supposed that there was no way of avoiding it now anyway. If he ran off his housemate would probably just catch up with him in the Common Room or the go to see him in the fourth year boys’ dorms. The youngster didn’t really think he had any way out of this.

Donald looked over at Dima when he placed a hand on his shoulder. He hesitated. Another issue that worried Donnie was telling him about his concerns over what he felt was underperforming as Seeker. The 14-year-old did not want to be accused of not being up to the task. He did it perfectly well last year after all. He didn’t want his teammates thinking badly of him, well anymore than the probably already did.

”I I don’t know” he stuttered slightly through his sobs ”I I just feel like such a a failure…” he decided to settle on that. Donnie was not going to elaborate quiet yet on exactly what it was. ”…just ignore me. I am being stupid” he tried to give the older student a, albeit, very weak smile. He failed.  

LIFE GETS A LITTLE BIT CRAZY

AND WE ALL GET A LITTLE HAZY
BUT YOU KNOW, WE CAN'T BE PERFECT
AND WE ALL ARE SO WORTH IT

Failure was a familiar concept. As far as his brothers were concerned they were all born as failures. Their father hadn't followed through with his duties. He hadn't carried on his family name even though he was the last pure Remnikov. Was, being the key phrase. Dima still couldn't understand how his father could bring four mixed sons into the world and then... then screw up the way he had. It seemed so unlike him, but what did he knew. Time had a way of drawing children away from their parents. Dima was no different.

The students of Hogwarts knew what it meant to lose touch with parents. Gone were the days of being home after school each and every day. Gone were the days when evenings were spent chatting with parents at the dinner table, or the weekends spent with their families. He could recall being a first year and being nervous about the separation. Dima, of course, was lucky enough to have two brothers already used to the ebb and flow of school life within the castle walls. He had thought he was lucky anyhow, back when he was a young boy.

He had looked up to his brothers back then. In some ways he still did. Dima could admit that he looked up to his eldest brother now more than he ever had. Phief was playing professionally as a Beater for the Bats. Dima could remember when his brother had written home the very first time about joining the Slytherin house team and now he was playing Quidditch for a living. That was always something Dima thought that was something he wanted to do. 

Of course having your mentor and your eldest brother be one in the same was always a challenge. Siblings provided a different type of coaching, and there were times that Dima felt like a failure at the game as well. When he and his brother would run drills for the fun of it he would always push himself harder than he should have. He would take loses and misses much more personally than he would in other instances because it was his brother, and as a sibling he had something to prove.

Seeing Donnie so upset was something he understood. He had felt that way himself thousands of times. Being the seeker, Dima could imagine it felt far more personal when they lost than it did from where he was sitting. He was one of two beaters working to help three chasers, all while supporting one keeper. But Donald....he was all alone. One goal, one focus, one opponent. That was how it must have felt at times. Hell, there were times that Dima felt that during a match despite having Vet as his partner. He would let a poor hit upset him, or a miss. He would let it drag him down sometimes.

"You're not a failure." Dima's voice rang with certainty as he shook his head. He hated to see his fellow teammate feeling down on himself. It reminded him to much of himself at times, though he was always one to hide behind a mask. In this moment Donald wasn't and he could appreciate that. Envy it, even. "Well, I mean, we all failed a little bit yesterday. But you're not stupid," he said looking down at the Seeker with a slight smile. "We just...lose sometimes. These things happen." And it was true. Dima had been kicking himself over the loss as well. Scolding himself for not being able to get a good hit on Zoe when he needed to, and for not helping to put up more points because of it.  

"Just because we failed doesn't mean we're failures." Dima made a mental note to jot that phrase down in the Stupidest Shit Dima's Ever Said file that his brain had a tendency of keeping. But he supposed it was true, if not kind of ridiculous to say.

Donald Leonardo Westwood | Notes:

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0

Donald hated himself for crying, absolutely hated himself. He felt so wake, so pathetic for doing it. Like such a failure as a boy. And it made the 14-year old want to cry even more. However, he tried to hold it back in as much as possible. The Ravenclaw already felt that he was appearing weak in front of his house and teammate. It was probably too late for him to totally safe face though. Don really felt pathetic at the moment, absolutely pathetic, but he couldn’t help it.

He looked up towards the older boy, his housemate and teammate. Still worried about what he might say or think of him. The spiky-haired lad listened quietly as Dima told him that he was not a failure. He didn’t really believe that, he was a failure. It was his job to grab the snitch and he was failing at it, he was letting his team down, letting his house down and letting himself down. Or, at least that is how he felt anyone.

” Aha” he said involuntarily when the older teammate told the 14-year-old that they were all failures. He knew it, the rest of the team fought badly of Donald, they felt that he was a failure and that he was to blame. Well, that was not what the beater said but that is what he heard, or at least wanted to take from what he said. They all hated him, as much as the fourth-year hated himself.

When his teammate said that he was not stupid he did manage to give him a slightly weaker smile ” Thanks..” he said feebly. It meant for a Ravenclaw to tell another Ravenclaw that they were not stupid. Sometimes the competitions of the house, when it came to academic matters and who is more intelligent, was very intense. Personally, Don found it to be rather silly himself, but that was how his House and he was still a proud Ravenclaw.

” Well…I know that we all lose sometimes…” he couldn’t argue with that point ”..But I…I just feel that I could have been doing better as seeker. I feel that last year that I was doing better than I was this year. I …I don’t know. I just feel like I could be doing better you know?” he wondered if he was talking sense to him.

‘Just because you fail doesn’t mean we’re failures’ he said. The Welsh lad did not agree with that. Indeed he thought that was a rather cringe-worthy and corny thing to say. The Welsh wizard decided against saying anythingthough. That would be rude. However, he did wipe some of the tears from his eyes and smiled a little more, it had cheered him up a bit. ”I guess so…but I still feel like I am failing everyone.” he sighed slightly. ”You probably think I am rather pathetic and weak for crying”