Grey is the Colour of Silence
Silence. It was a foreign concept to him. Durmstrang had never been silent, filled with the noises of hundreds of teenagers, punctuated by the screams of yet another victim of the Dark Magic they were taught. And his profession was by no means silent; the roar of the crowd was often so loud he could not hear his own thoughts, let alone the instructions of his Captain. Even practice was filled with the swishing of bats, the crack as they made contact with a bludger, the noises of seven men putting their all into every movement.
But now those noises were gone. No longer would he be subjected to the sounds of Quidditch day in and day out. His wife told him he should be grateful – he had an amazing career, including multiple World Cups, and now he had the opportunity to try something new. But he didn't want to try something new; he had planned to play Quidditch up until his death, but it seemed the Board had other ideas. He'd show them who was too old!
As he trudged home from his last ever training session, the grey skies seemed to match his mood. Sure, he still had the game tomorrow, but then it was all over. He didn't know what he was like without Quidditch. For as long as he could remember he had possessed a broom and had spent hours flying around the bare landscape surrounding his home. All through his first year at Durmstrang he had been itching to be allowed onto a school team, and had been the first to arrive at tryouts the next year. Now, now it was all gone. Everything he had worked for had been taken away from him, and he had no plans for his future, no way to support his family.
The grey clouds seemed to follow him home, like some absurd eeyore. As he walked through the door his youngest excitedly held out a letter to him, which he opened with trepidation. The last letter he had read had stripped away his dreams. But this one – this one began to build them back up. This one gave him a job doing what he loved, just in a different format. This letter offered him the position of flying instructor at Durmstrang. And as he looked outside, the clouds shifted and blue sky appeared behind them. Maybe everything wasn't so bad afterall.
A/N. Written for the Collect Them All Challenge with the character Volkov and the prompts silence and grey skies.
So, I don't really know what to think of this one. I'm happy that I finally thought of something for him, but it isn't my best writing...Anyway, please let me know what you think! NG.