black notes on white paper and black soul on white skin
/du-ende/ n. (Spanish)
¬the mysterious power of art to deeply move a person
¬the feeling of powerful awe experienced when viewing a piece of art, watching a performance or listening to music th...
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Nikita Vasilyevich Pavlov is what you know as child prodigy. He is the literal definition for it, when you open your lexicon and search under C, it's likely that Nikita will smile at you out of a picture, his ash-blond hair like frost on the black-and-white photographies, his startling blue eyes piercing into your soul, just as icy as the smile, which is forced onto his thin lips - because you learn to smile when your father tells you to so those who'll look at the taken pictures won't have the wrong expression.
Because you like being a child prodigy, don't you, Nikita?
You love your piano, don't you, Nikita?
Unfortunately, Nikita has never been good at plastering smiles onto his face - or at smiling in general. It just never feels really right, as if his lips aren't made to form smiles and a subtle raising of one of his mouth's corners it usually enough to show his fondness of something and to make the reporters swoon ("Look! Nikita Pavlov is smiling at me!").
Well, at least it has been.
Now, Nikita isn't a young child anymore, who gives interviews when his father says to or smiles for the cmaera when his father says to or tours through Europe, Asia, America and god knows where when his father says to.
Not anymore.
Because since war has stopped Nikita's touring in 1940 in France, he's attending Hogwarts - seems like the tour hasn't only been a nice way to show his son's talent but also to escape the people the British Ministry has sent out to search for Nikita, who hasn't come to start his school years at Hogwarts like all others've done and has been known as "missing or kidnapped".
Usually, the Ministry'd drop such cases quite soon, sometimes they don't even send out aurors to look for the missing but they've been searching for Nikita for approximately two years. Why?, you might ask.
Of course not, because they've developed a heart and compassion, I might answer. Because they indeed haven't. No, it is because Nikita's mother, Maria, has been an auror, who's been searching for people in Grindelwald's regime who're ready to betray Grindelwald or are easy to manipulate so they'd have some spies - they need them and it's getting more urgent and more urgent every day because the fear among the wizarding world increases.
Unfortunately, Maria hasn't told her son anything. Not, who's hollow-hearted enough to betray Grindelwald, not, that he's a wizard, not, that she's been a witch. She's always just smiled and said, how beautiful and talented her beloved son is.
You are a child prodigy, aren't you, Nikita?
You love your piano, don't you, Nikita?
You are the prettiest child prodigy I could wish for, Nikita, you know?
When an auror on his honeymoon has been on one of Nikita's many concerts in Paris, after they've got stuck in the city because Salzburg, Vienna and Rome have cancelled his performances due to the war, the auror's kind of arrested Nikita and his father, scaring the hell out of the thirteen-year-old. Hasn't he played well? Hasn't he smiled enough? Has he done something wrong?
