Kiver brought a cigarette to his lips, sucked back the toxins and released them back into the cold September air. He placed the butt between his middle finger and thumb, flicking it into the abyss. All that could be seen was the orange and red sparks as the finished cancer stick hit the ground. Kiver cleared his throat. Hogsmeade wasn't so bad in the evenings, it was busy rather. Kiver quite enjoyed his solitude, although on most nights, he was forced to mingle with the common witches and wizards of England. It wasn't that Kiver hated his job, he quite enjoyed sneaking a shot or two of whiskey into his evening. It was more the fact that he disliked the people he was forced to speak with as a professor. The old men who stunk of urine and feces, the old women whose coats were covered in animal hair ran the streets that evening. Kiver shuttered. The mere thought of these individuals disgusted him.

Placing his large hands into his pants pockets, the lad walked around a while longer, receiving glares from multiple women of his past. He simply stared at them and rolled his eyes. A few times too many, Kiver licked his lips suggestively at them, earning hisses and grunts. This only made Kiver shake with laughter. Ah, women. Such sensitive creatures, he thought to himself. There wasn't much hope left in the world to keep Kiver in check.

In all honesty, Kiver was still disgusted with himself at his falling out with his ex-girlfriend Sloan. He had never once lain a hand on a woman and vowed to never do such a disgraceful thing again. Shame hung over him like a dark storm cloud that would never depart.

A few more passers-by eyed Russ as he continued his jaunt around Hogsmeade. There was nothing interesting about the place, until you ventured further up. Kiver never liked the world to begin with, but as he sat upon the top of it, he realized that it wasn't such a putrid place after all. And that's what he would do that evening.

Turning on his heel, Kiver walked with conviction to the spot he knew would give him the proper leverage. A dark alley way between two tall buildings became home for miscreants like Russ to seek refuge.

"Aha! There you are, you bloody scoundrel!" He ran toward a tower of boxes and crates sitting next to a set of pipes running along the side of the building. Kiver raced down the alley, hopped up to the top of the boxes and crates, and began climbing the side of the building. To anyone passing by this spectacle, one would assume Kiver was not of this world. He finally reached the top, his chest heaving. He pulled himself over the edge and stood on his feet, hands on his hips, smiling victoriously. Kiver always felt a sense of release when upon the rooftops.

A smug look appeared on his face as he marched over to the opposite end. He crouched down until his bum hit the shingles beneath him. He wrapped his arms around his legs and watched as the world went on, oblivious to watching eyes.