Dmitry loved Quidditch.
Or more specifically, he loved watching Quidditch. His uncle Kašpar was a real professional Beater for the Grodzisk Goblins and he often invited Dmitry along to their matches, where he got to sit in the best seats at the top of the stands and eat as many snacks as he wanted and join in on the team cheers. (This all while his objectively dangerously attractive and also extremely boring guard Alyona Tsyvk stood behind him, completely silent, as if even Quidditch wasn’t worth any emotion to her. Just another reason why having a guard annoyed him. But not even she could ruin Quidditch for him.)
Or more specifically, Uncle Kašpar was a reserve Beater, but he still got to play in almost every match, especially the ones against their mortal enemies from Germany. The Heidelberg Harriers were absolute brutes and forced enough player turnover that inevitably his uncle was called in to smash Bludgers at them. There was always blood splattered somewhere on the stands by the end of their matches and it was the coolest thing ever. (Which was something that Alyona had, in a rare moment of also being cool, agreed to never tell his mother about unless it was his blood that got spilled, which she would never let happen.)
As one might guess Dmitry knew a lot about Quidditch, and he had his own broom too, but he had never played the game himself before coming to RMI. His parents had refused to sign him up for the youth league at home because it overlapped with his lesson schedule, and sometimes his uncle would fly around with him and throw a ball for fun but it wasn’t the same as a real game, not even that one time he tried charming rocks to be fake Bludgers. His first time playing had been in the first-years’ Quidditch lesson, and then he decided to try out for the team because his roommate Nathan told him he had heard a couple of the other Dracos talking about how they were short players this year. Dmitry had been tempted to go for Beater because of his uncle but he also had enough self-awareness to know he didn’t have the strength for that, so Chaser it was.
Chasing was more work than he had expected. You had to be good at throwing and catching, but also paying attention to the other team’s Beaters all the time since they were trying to take you out. The Draco Beaters were older and really good, so he normally didn’t have to worry too much, but today was a just-for-fun match and he hadn’t flown with all of the people on his team before, and Dmitry was feeling a bit antsy. But still super excited. But also anxious.
He saw the older boy on team white throw the Quaffle and zoomed forward to catch it, the leather ball thunking against his palm. As he did so, though, he happened to look up and realized that there was Bludger coming right for his face. “Aah!” Dmitry yelped in an definitely manly tone of voice and pushed his broom into a dive to get out of the way, bumping into another player and dropping the Quaffle in the process. He followed this with a loud Russian word that according to his mother he wasn’t supposed to know and dove further down, trying to grab it back. Oh this was super embarrassing! How could he have just dropped the Quaffle?? He knew he was still learning to be a good Chaser, but he was better than this!