Enthralled at the prospect of leaving the cramped, stuffy confines of the lower deck, several students immediately abandoned their seats and rushed towards the stairwell, but the Oberpräfekt blocked the exit. “Please, let us do this in an orderly fashion,” he announced, prompting many groans. Ignoring the complaints of his captive audience, he continued, “Leave your luggage behind “ it will be taken to the castle separately. Now, we will disembark by year. Seventh-years first, please.”
The oldest students cheered and hastened their leave. “Favouritism!” someone shouted after them.
“Sixth-years…”
Dieter didn’t want to stay aboard the ship any longer. Though he wasn’t as bothered by the conditions inside as others were, he didn’t feel like waiting any longer to see Durmstrang Institute of Magical Learning for the first time. Nine months had been enough.
After a thoroughly lengthy wait that was in reality only five minutes long, it was the first-years’ turn to finally leave the ship. As instructed, Dieter and Konrad left their trunks behind and climbed the steps into the open. Dieter could not have prepared himself for the sight he saw from the deck.
Die Seeschlange was moored on the shores of a lake situated in a dark valley, surrounded on three sides by soaring, snow-capped mountains. To the west, opposite the valley’s mouth, the faint orange glow of twilight framed the tall peaks. But to the north was the centrepiece of the sight. Right in front of Dieter was the castle itself.
Durmstrang castle had a lofty perch on a mountainside promontory, at the top of the tree line. Even in the distance, it was imposing and majestic. Its many towers and spires bathed in the faint orange light, and the luminous windows glimmered. “Wow,” Dieter breathed, along with many others.
While the first-years gaped at the castle, the very blond and very Aryan Head Präfekt took the opportunity to dry himself off with his wand. Still keeping his eyes on the castle, Dieter walked the gangplank, across the pier, and onto dry land. The older students were disappearing down a path into the forest at the wide clearing’s edge, and by the time all of the first-years were off the ship, they were alone with the Head Präfekt and two of his subordinates. Dieter recognised one as the girl who had taken his luggage onboard and the other as the boring one who gave the speech about the ship’s history.
Oberpräfekt Tryggvason amplified his voice and called for attention. The babble of excited voices died down, and the Norwegian continued, “First-years, are you excited to finally be at Durmstrang?”
A roar of enthusiastic affirmation drowned whatever the student leader said next. The Head Präfekt smiled and waited for silence. “Excellent! The feast awaits you in the Great Hall, so if you are all ready, please follow me up the hill.”
He barely took one step before a boy blurted out, “What? We’re not going to walk up there?”
Very calmly, Tryggvason looked at the boy, who Dieter now noticed was the same boy who had asked for his seat on the ship. The Oberpräfekt explained, “Of course we will. It is school tradition that at the beginning of the year, every student must climb the one thousand, one hundred and thirty-five steps of Cardiac Slope. However, if you do not want to climb the Cardiac Steps, you are always free to go back onboard the ship, and you will be taken back to your homes.”
Tryggvason’s calm, level composure was betrayed by a very slight smile “ he was enjoying the horrified look on the black-haired boy’s face. Dieter also found it amusing, but he noticed that Konrad bore a slight frown. Evidently, he wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of climbing a steep slope either.
“Don’t worry about it,” Dieter muttered to him. “It’s easier than it looks.”
Konrad nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. He was at least taking things better than many other students. Looks of dread were quite pervasive, and Dieter noticed that the nervous girl who had trouble climbing the rope ladder aboard the ship looked like she would faint. There were many grumblings and mutterings at the announcement, but Tryggvason ignored them.
“Does anyone want to go back on the ship?” he asked. Dieter looked around to see if anyone would answer, but no one did. “Good,” Tryggvason said. “The faster you walk, the sooner everyone gets to eat. But we won’t start the feast until every student has made it to the Great Hall, so it behoves you to not leave behind any stragglers. Now, shall we?”
Dieter gave the Durmstrang ship a parting glance: Die Seeschlange was a majestic vessel to look at, but the view was best appreciated from the outside.
With the Oberpräfekt in the lead and his two assistants at the middle and end, the group of first-years walked on a path of large flagstones that would not remain flat and level for long. Dieter and Konrad were towards the front of the group. A step appeared as soon as the path reached the forest “ the first of many. It was an endless trail of stone steps snaking their way between tall trees and up the slope.
They passed a sign that simply read: ‘50/1135’. Breathing a little heavily, Dieter took each step with calculated strides and pacing, but others didn’t have such discipline. One girl with her hair in a braided tail decided to take the Cardiac Steps at a run. Grinning and flushed with energy, she darted past everyone and disappeared around a bend.
Dieter shook his head in amusement. The girl would not go far before exhausting herself.
Sometimes the steps were spaced far apart as the trail became shallower in gradient, while at other points it was quite steep. As the group of first-years laboured up the slope, Dieter was under the impression that wizarding children did not get that much exercise. He was at the front of the pack, and was genuinely surprised at how much difficulty everyone else was having. He halted for a moment, allowed Konrad to catch up with him, and asked, “I thought you said you played ‘Kwidditch’?”
Konrad stopped walking. He breathed, “I do. B-but, it’s all… upper body… strength. Not much done… with the legs.”
They passed more signs.
‘150/1135’…
‘200/1135’…
‘250/1135’…
At the two hundred fifty step point, Dieter had caught up to the girl who had run ahead. She was sitting on a boulder and looked visibly exhausted, even faint. Dieter was surprised she had even made it this far.
“Go more slowly next time,” Oberpräfekt Tryggvason said to the girl, who weakly nodded. She eased herself off the rock and staggered up the trail, but she only made it a few steps before collapsing to her knees and palms.
“You there,” Tryggvason ordered, and Dieter realised the Head Präfekt was talking to him. “Help her up please, and assist her the rest of the way.”
Dieter groaned in protest, but Tryggvason kept walking and didn’t seem to hear or care. Why should I help her? Dieter thought. It’s her fault she’s tired. She got herself into it!
Not all that willingly, he seized the girl’s hand and pulled her up onto her feet. “Can you walk on your own?” Dieter asked, hoping the answer would be ‘yes’.
Instead of answering with words, she leaned on Dieter’s shoulder to keep herself upright. Some incoherent mumblings escaped her mouth, but the only thing he could make out of them was that the girl was in little condition for independent movement.
Burdened with his charge, Dieter fell behind, allowing the slower students in the group to catch up. Konrad grinned and waved as he passed, but didn’t have the breath to say anything. “Come on,” Dieter urged to the girl. “You have to move.”
“Mmbmmm,” she replied, and continued to lean on his shoulder.
Dieter muttered darkly under his breath. If it weren’t for the fact that nobody would eat until every first-year made it to the castle, Dieter would have been perfectly content with leaving the girl where she was. He sighed and held out his arm. “Hold on. I’ll pull you,” he said with resignation.
She took his right arm in hand for support, and Dieter marched up the steps, pulling her along. Her footsteps were poorly coordinated and she stumbled a few times on the ascending flagstones, but she managed to at least walk with his assistance. Dieter was very relieved that he didn’t have to carry her, though if it had come to that, he might have just dragged her instead.
However, Dieter wasn’t alone in being charged with delivering human cargo, as some other students had also been paired with weaklings. Don’t wizards have ANY physical education programmes? Dieter thought. Apparently not…
The little daylight present during the ship’s arrival had faded to be replaced by star-studded blackness. The path was increasingly hard to see, and Dieter had to be careful and watch his footing. The girl he was pulling was having considerably less luck and repeatedly tripping on the stone steps.
Lights appeared ahead, and Dieter was immensely relieved. He quickened his pace and unceremoniously towed the girl behind him.
He was disappointed to realise that the light came not from the castle, but from Oberpräfekt Tryggvason’s wand, which he held aloft like a torch. “Congratulations everyone, we’re little more than halfway there. Now, let’s just wait for everyone to catch up, and then we’ll start moving again…”
They were at the sign that said, ‘600/1135’. After about a minute, the tail-end präfekt (also with a lit wand) arrived with his charges, and all of the first-years were assembled.
“Hello, everyone!” Tryggvason announced. “As you can see, it is now dark and hard to see things. So, I’m going to teach you the simplest spell in the world to fix this. Get your wands out, please.”
The girl was resting on Dieter’s shoulders again and holding onto his right arm. Annoyed, Dieter extracted his wand from his pocket with his left hand.
“The incantation is ‘Lumos’, and there is no wand waving required. So, everyone with me… Lumos!”
The sudden brightness blinded Dieter for a moment, and his eyes slowly adjusted to the light. Once they did, he could see the path with perfect clarity.
“Congratulations. You just learned your first spell at Durmstrang, and to put out the light, simply say, ‘Nox’. Now, let’s go.”
They walked. Dieter again served as a locomotive for the girl, but he was starting to wonder whether she was truly exhausted or just taking advantage of him.
‘750/1135’…
The girl spoke for the first time. “What’s your name?” she asked, short of breath. Dieter couldn’t fathom why she would be tired, as he had been doing most the walking for her for half of the distance to the castle. All she had to do was not fall over.
“Dieter,” he answered. “Yours?”
“Gerta,” she said. “Thank you for helping me up this hill Dieter. You are such a gentleman.”
Under his breath, Dieter muttered, “And you are a dummkopf, Gerta.” Because she hadn’t thought to pace herself, Dieter had been delegated to correct her error in judgement.
“What was that?” Gerta questioned suddenly.
“Nothing,” said Dieter evasively. “Anyway, since you now seem to have enough energy to talk, you must have enough energy to walk. Will you let go of my arm?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m tired. And what was it you said?”
“I told you, it was nothing.” Dieter was really starting to get annoyed.
“It didn’t sound like it,” Gerta persisted. “You said something about me. Tell me.”
Dieter decided to ignore her and just keep walking, but Gerta had other plans. She tightened her grip on his arm, stood still, and leaned backwards. Dieter nearly lost his footing with the sudden shift in weight.
“What is the matter with you?” he hissed.
“Tell me what you said,” she urged again.
“Fine! I called you a dummkopf.”
She put a pouty face. “That’s not very nice!”
Dieter did not feel compelled to answer, and decided to free himself from her grip instead. The path darkened as he stowed away the wand in his free left hand, which he thereafter used to pry Gerta’s fingers off his wrist. “Hey!” she said.
She retaliated by wiggling her fingers and aiming a thrust at Dieter’s midsection. “What are you doing?”
“Hold still, Dieter. I’m trying to tickle you!”
Dieter ran to put some distance between her. “Auf Wiedersehen!” he shouted cheerfully, free from Gerta at last.
“Don’t run away!” She called after him. She vainly tried to keep up, but she slowed to a stop and rested against a nearby tree. “You’re supposed to be a gentleman and help me up the steps!”
Girls… They really are from another planet, Dieter mused while shaking his head. He worked his way up the trail, passing the slower students and slowly making his way to the front of the pack. Eventually, he caught up to Konrad.
“Where’s your friend?” he grinned. Dieter flatly answered that she had decided she didn’t need any more help.
Through gaps in the trees, Durmstrang castle slowly swam into view. From the low vantage point along the path, it appeared massive and daunting. Count Sven Thorsten Ulrich von Durmstrang had chosen the site for his fortress school well. Dieter couldn’t imagine having to assault it “ climbing the slope alone was tiring enough, but while wearing armour and getting shot at by archers…
But would wizards even fight that way? Dieter remembered that wizards could ride broomsticks and even materialise in and out of space, and with that in mind, the advantage rendered by the castle’s high perch was considerably reduced. That thought didn’t make the castle any look any less impressive, though.
They finally passed a sign that read, ‘1100/1135’. An open gatehouse appeared around the bend, and the trail finally started to level off slightly.
Konrad looked behind Dieter and pointed. Eyes wide in terror, he shouted, “LOOK!”
Dieter whipped his head around and scanned the area with the light from his wand, but there was nothing out of the ordinary to see. The students climbing the stairs behind him looked at him funnily, while others concealed grins.
When Dieter looked to his front again, he saw Konrad running up the path as quickly as he could. He passed a few students, Oberpräfekt Tryggvason, and made it to the gatehouse. Chest heaving, he leaned against the stones, faced the incoming group, and exclaimed, “FIRST!”
“Why, you…” Dieter muttered. Shortly, he too made it to the gatehouse. Above the entrance was a large triangular plaque bearing the inscribed circle and line. Bordering the two sides at the top were the words, Durmstrang-Institut für das Magisches Lernen, and beneath the seal, Potentia Verum Est.
The gatehouse (complete with murder holes and a raised portcullis) opened into the ward of Durmstrang castle. There was a small grass lawn within the curtain wall, against which some hardy vines and trees grew.
Though the one thousand, one hundred thirty-five steps of Cardiac Slope officially stopped at the foot of the gatehouse, the castle itself was constructed on less than level ground. More flagstone steps followed after the courtyard, but the path finally stopped at a pair of open doors of imposing height. A tall, robed figure stood in the yellowish light streaming from the opening.
As Dieter approached, the wizard’s features came into view. It was the Deputy Rector, Professor Odoaker.
“Ah, thank you, Dag,” he said to the Oberpräfekt. “Take a seat in the Great Hall. I’ll take over from here.”
As more of the first-years arrived up the flagstone path, Odoaker spoke, “Please, everyone. Come inside, out of the cold.”
Dieter didn’t feel particularly cold at all. In fact, he felt rather warm wearing a robe over his clothes and having walked up a steep slope. Nevertheless, he did what the Deputy Rector said and stepped into the antechamber. Torches on the wall shed flickering light.
“Wiktoria, is that everyone?”
The female präfekt answered, “No Professor. We’re still waiting for Wenzeslaus who’s with about a dozen of the first-years. They’ve been having trouble with the Steps.”
Odoaker nodded in acknowledgement. “Very well. Then we shall wait.”
Dieter couldn’t see the Gerta girl amongst the first-years crowded in the entrance hall. Dieter didn’t want everyone to have to wait for her, but he did not regret escaping her parasitic grip.
A few minutes went by, and finally the last of the first-years arrived, Gerta among them. With the exception of the bespectacled mid-ranked präfekt, they all looked exhausted. “Everyone is accounted for,” the older student announced.
“Thank you. Wiktoria, Wenzeslaus, you may go inside,” Professor Odoaker said.
Once the two older students exited through the tall oaken doors, the tall wizard addressed the new arrivals. “Welcome to Durmstrang, first-years. Some of you may already know me, but I am Theoderich Odoaker, Deputy Rector and Professor of Potions for Upper Division students. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, and all you have to do is take your seats at any tables that are available. However, tonight we have a very important guest, so you will be on your absolute best behaviour. Is that understood?”
He said this very calmly, but it was a command, not a request. Everyone nodded.
“Very well. Enjoy the feast,” he invited, opening the double doors to the Great Hall.
It was a magnificent room of impressive proportions. Enormous windows to Dieter’s front and left showed the dark, starry sky outside, but the interior was illuminated by hundreds of torches suspended from the walls and chandeliers of wrought iron. Decorating the walls were many tall crimson banners, each topped with the triangular emblem of wizardry.
Dieter and Konrad entered the Great Hall at a brisk walk, trying to stay ahead of everyone else so as to find a good seat. Though the hall housed four enormous, long tables, the only spaces available for the first-years were at the very rear. Dieter found this puzzling, for in his experience at Muggle school, students usually sat at the back of any room when given the option, in order to be as far away from their instructors’ gazes. He was soon given an answer to this question.
“It’s him!” Konrad gasped. He was not the only first-year to do so.
“Who?” asked Dieter.
Konrad pointed at the High Table at the front of the Great Hall, where all the teachers were seated. Trying to keep his voice down, he said, “There, in the middle. It’s the Zaubererreich Kanzler “ Gellert Grindelwald!”
The Chancellor of the Wizarding Reich had his seat in the position of honour. Even while seated, he was a visibly tall man. He also had bright, golden blond hair, but that was the only other aspect of his appearance Dieter could discern from the distance.
And that was why all of the last available seats were at the rears of the tables. ‘Very important guest’ seemed to be an understatement, as all the students wanted to sit as close to their Chancellor as possible. Dieter suspected the same thing would happen if Adolf Hitler ever decided (however unlikely) to visit his former school back home.
“Come on,” Konrad urged, gesturing towards an unoccupied bench, as it was the closest they could get to the front of the Great Hall. Even once seated, Konrad edged as close as he could to the Head Table without touching the older student, presumably a second year, who sat next to him.
All eyes were fixed towards the front, but Grindelwald (who Dieter only now realised gave the name to the magical plaza he had purchased his school supplies almost an entire year before) was merely conversing with the other adults at the High Table.
The double doors closed once the last of the first-years entered the hall and took their seats. Professor Odoaker walked down a side aisle to avoid attention, but that was hardly needed. Once he sat down in one of the chairs in the middle of the High Table, the wizard on Grindelwald’s left stood. Dieter could not make out his features with much clarity, but his robes were of a brown colour, rather than Durmstrang crimson.
“May I have your attention please?” the wizard said in a slightly high-pitched voice, reminding Dieter of Reich Propaganda Minister, Joseph Goebbels. His appeal for quiet was unnecessary, however, as everyone had already exercised considerable restraint in regards to volume in the Zaubererreich Kanzler’s presence. “Thank you. Welcome back to Durmstrang students, and for you first-years, I am Professor Wotan Steiger, the Rector of this school. The start of term banquet will begin in… forty-three seconds,” he said, consulting a pocket watch. “And will continue for precisely one hour, ending at twenty-thirty. This will be ample time to settle down and be attentive for some important announcements. That is all.”
He said that all very quickly in a dispassionate, (albeit slightly squeaky) business-like manner. Once he sat back down in his chair, the feast immediately started.
Spaced about every five metres on the table were things that resembled trapdoors. Each one snapped open simultaneously, and hundreds of silver plates, forks, knives, and spoons shot out of the openings and arranged themselves in front of each student. The food and drink followed not a moment later, and Dieter was surprised that the dishes and goblets hadn’t spilled their contents all over the place.
Dieter hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast that morning, so he piled as much food onto his plate as possible. Given his preference to meat over vegetables, Dieter’s meal ended up being overwhelmingly carnivorous. He helped himself to roast beef and chicken, pork chops, and fish of some sort. He took a sip of whatever was in the goblet, and it turned out to be the same kind of turnip tea he had first drunk at Herr Strichleiter’s house. As he was thirsty, he didn’t mind the taste, or lack thereof.
There was an odd lack of conversation as the students ate, as mostly everyone had been exhausted by the long climb up Cardiac Slope. About half an hour passed before the buzz of idle chatter finally filled the Hall, after students had for the most part cleared their plates.
Dieter asked Konrad a question that had been intriguing him for some time now. He pointed at one of the banners on the walls with a piece of silvery cutlery and said, “I’ve been meaning to ask, what exactly does that symbol mean?”
Konrad looked up from his potatoes. “Oh that? It’s the symbol of the Zaubererreich, the Three Unions. Most people just call it the Triangle, or the Tri-Eye.”
Now that Konrad mentioned it, the Three Unions did look something like an eye, though not a human one. With that thought in his head, the Great Hall was surrounded by dozens of these immense black and white eyes, staring down at the students. To think of other things, he asked, “So it’s the Three Unions. What is it supposed to represent?”
“I was getting to that,” Konrad commented. Using his fork as a pointer, he traced the vertical line in the centre. He explained, “The line represents a wand, standing for wizardkind. Then the circle represents… something round, and the triangle stands for something with three sides. That’s the Three Unions.”
“So what do the circle and the triangle represent?” Dieter prodded.
Konrad shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I forgot,” he explained simply.
Meanwhile, the other first-years at the table were swapping introductions and discussing their first acts of magic.
“…My mother was ever so angry when I lit Madam Vigée’s hair on fire,” said a boy named Jean Mayr, who Dieter figured must have been Alsatian by his name and accent. “But papa got a good laugh out of that.”
Konrad introduced himself to the other boys and said, “Well, I can’t top what you did, but the first magic act I remember doing was when I was seven, and it had something to do with a squirrel…”
To Dieter, the tales were wild and absurd. They talked about how they had changed the colour of things, made people’s eyebrows grow at a rapid rate, or lit random objects on fire. Dieter had done none of that as a young wizard. He had no spectacular first feats of magic. What he had were unusual incidents that Dieter thought could only have been attributed to magic with hindsight. A horrible thought ravaged Dieter’s brain “ could he already be a mediocre wizard, before even starting school?
“And what about you?” Konrad said to Dieter. “What did you do?”
Dieter introduced himself while he stalled for time. In a stroke of luck, he remembered an incident that could work. “Well, there was this one time a few years ago, when I was riding my bicycle down a path in the forest, and“”
“Byesickle? What’s a byesickle?” questioned a brown-haired boy named Heinrich.
“It’s a thing that Muggles ride,” explained Dieter.
Konrad said, “What, like a broom?”
“Think of it like a broom but with wheels, and it doesn’t fly.” It was the best description Dieter could think of for the audience he was dealing with.
“So you’re Muggle-born?” Heinrich asked with his eyebrows raised. Dieter answered yes, and Heinrich did not ask any further questions on the matter. “Uh-huh,” he merely stated casually. “Well, that ‘byesickle’ sounds pretty primitive. I happen to prefer the Zephyr Blitz, nothing less than the best racing broom out there.”
“What?” Konrad blurted. “You can’t be serious about the Zephyrs. Everyone knows the Speer line is the best.”
“Oh really?” Heinrich retorted haughtily. “So tell me, can the Speer 130 outrun a Zephyr Blitz, or a Zephyr Adler? I don’t think so.”
“It’s not just about speed. You can’t forget acceleration! Who cares if the Zephyr is a little faster than the Speer? It doesn’t matter, because by the time you get to that high speed on the Zephyr, you’ve already flown out of the stadium boundaries!”
The two boys argued about broomsticks, and Dieter’s story about emerging unscathed from a spectacular bicycle crash was totally forgotten. Dieter suspected that the pair would continue to quarrel forever about the Zephyr and the Speer if desserts hadn’t arrived as a distraction.
“Cake!” Dieter exclaimed excitedly, and conversations ended as the various confections of cakes, pies, ice cream, and sweets. He grabbed a bit of everything and piled it on his plate, which had mysteriously cleaned itself spotless after his main course.
For fifteen minutes, everyone happily indulged themselves in the desserts, but at precisely twenty thirty, the trapdoors in the tables flapped open. All the plates and cutlery disappeared through them, regardless of whether people were done eating or not. “Hey!” an older girl shouted as her fork, with a piece of cake impaled on its end, zoomed out of her hand.
The trapdoors snapped shut and locked themselves. Following the abrupt end to the banquet, all eyes turned towards the High Table. There were quite a few heads in Dieter’s way, so he leaned back into the aisle to get a better view.
Rector Steiger got up from his seat, went around the Head table, and stood behind a podium. “Greetings, students, to a new year at Durmstrang. From its very beginnings over eight hundred years ago, this school has been among the finest magical institutions in the world, with renowned standards of excellence. For centuries, Durmstrang Institute has trained thousands of wizards and witches in all the magical arts…”
What followed was a very clinical, boring speech about the value of education, and how Durmstrang Institute prepared youngsters for the future. Dieter found his attention waning, but he didn’t dare look away or start talking, with all the school staff and the Zaubererreich Kanzler at the High Table.
“…That a rigorous, balanced education is the wizarding world’s best investment for the times that lie ahead, and Durmstrang Institute is committed to this noble purpose…”
The speech eventually ended, and seemingly everyone in the hall was relieved. But in his same, monotone but slightly high-pitched voice, the Rector concluded, “And now, it gives me immense pleasure to welcome a former Durmstrang student and the Zaubererreich Kanzler himself, Gellert Grindelwald.”
Grindelwald stood up, and the reaction was immediate. Everyone in the Great Hall, including the professors at the front, stood up. Though Dieter knew next to nothing about the magical hermit community, he appreciated their discipline, even if they weren’t National Socialists.
The Chancellor of the wizarding world walked around the High Table towards the podium, which the Rector had vacated. However, instead of standing behind it, he stood in front. In a great, carrying voice, he spoke.
“Forty-five years ago, I too was a student at Durmstrang. I was curious young wizard in an unfamiliar place. Yet the Durmstrang I attended nearly a half-century ago was not the same school we have today. The old Durmstrang was a crumbling one “ a school crumbling in spirit. It was a school beset by arrogance and strife, obsessed with petty, schismatic trifles of status and class. The old Durmstrang was reclusive and cowardly, and fearful of change. If only the old masters of the school could see the change happening today!”
This speech couldn’t have been more different than the Rector’s. The students were listening, enraptured, to each of the Chancellor’s fiery words.
“Look around you, students!” Grindelwald boomed. “You are the product of that change. You are the realisation of a great vision “ a vision the old masters deemed too dangerous and radical for this hallowed Hall. It is this vision that has brought you all here today, for I see before me young wizards and witches united by the magic we share, not divided by our petty differences. I see youth from the old traditions of wizardkind, and newcomers to our world. I see youth from the north and the south, the west and the east, youth from every corner of the Zaubererreich and beyond! You are that great vision, the vision of a world in which birth is nothing, and strength of character and magical ability is all!
“That is why you are at Durmstrang, young wizards and witches. You have all been blessed by Fortune’s good graces with the gift of magic. It is a gift that cannot go to waste, for magic is a power. It is a power that allows us “ that allows you “ to make an indelible impact on this world, to change this world for the better! You will learn, and you will grow, and one day, you will continue the legacy your forebears have started. You will be the beating heart of the Wizarding Revolution! You are the future leaders of the world!”
Hundreds of students roared their approval. Dieter didn’t understand everything being said, but he felt empowered nonetheless and shouted too. The cheering died down and Grindelwald continued.
“You will be fighters, not followers. You will have the courage to face danger; you will accept privations and never collapse! And there is no retreat from the long, difficult path ahead of us. There will be a day in your lifetime when all magical peoples, this brotherhood of wizardry, unites to set wizardkind free! We will bring light where it is dark, and order to where there is chaos. There will be lasting peace, but it is up to us “ it is up to you, to fulfill it! The fulfillment of the Second Zaubererreich is inevitable! The Reclamation is inevitable! And this new world will all be for the greater good!”
Dieter was deafened by the tumult that followed. The Great Hall rang with hundreds of voices that chorused, “For the greater good! For the greater good!”
Arms went out in a mass salute different from the one Dieter was familiar with “ hands thrust wands towards the ceiling, and many students fired brilliant red sparks into the air. By reflex, Dieter had had responded with a National Socialist salute at the first sign of movement, but he had to stop and retrieve his wand from his pockets to deliver the new gesture. Fortunately, nobody noticed his mistake, or cared.
The Zaubererreich Kanzler walked down the centre aisle at a brisk pace, only casually acknowledging the praises and greetings he received. He must have been running on a tight schedule, or else he should have at least shaken a few people’s hands.
Then Dieter realised with a jolt that Grindelwald would walk past him within mere seconds. He knew almost nothing about the wizard, but he suddenly felt overwhelmed by his presence, for the Chancellor had a manic energy surrounding him that no one could escape. The hysteria of the audience could attest to that.
Time seemed to slow down, ever so slightly, as Gellert Grindelwald passed by. Though he was in his fifties as implied in his speech, he did not look his age. There was something youthful and boyish to his broad smile and bright blue eyes. He had a small, pointy beard that curled up slightly at the tip, and wavy blond hair that reached to his shoulders. His wizard robe was a deep maroon, and around his neck he wore a small gold pendent bearing the sign of the Three Unions.
Grindelwald waved a long, thin wand and the tall doors of the Great Hall opened to permit his exit. It took several minutes for the cheering and chanting to end. Some eager students kept shooting sparks into the air long after everyone else had stowed their wands away.
A slightly squeaky voice announced, “Students, please. If I may have your attention.” It was the Rector, whose name Dieter had forgotten in the excitement. “This concludes the start-of-term banquet. Präfekts, Professor Odoaker, please escort the students to their dormitories.”
Dieter didn’t pay much attention to the journey through winding corridors that followed, for he was lost in his thoughts. The Zaubererreich Kanzler’s speech was still ringing in his ears. Strength and ability are all… You are the future leaders of the world... Fighters, not followers…
The words were intoxicating. They made him feel important, and buoyed his spirits. Bumping into the student in front of him brought crashing back into the real world.
Professor Odoaker and two präfekts had led the first-years “ perhaps some fifty to sixty in number “ to a plain oak door with the Roman numeral one on it. The Deputy Rector opened the door and the first-years crowded into a tall, round room a fireplace against a wall and a several armchairs, tables, and sofas.
“Welcome to the first-year common room and dormitories,” Odoaker announced. “Now, I know you’ve had a long day, so I will not keep you here for long. All that needs to be done now is determine which room each of you will be sleeping in, and that will be all for tonight.”
Odoaker introduced his two student assistants as Hauptpräfekts Wenzeslaus Ziegelstein and Wiktoria Płużanka “ Dieter thought there had to have been a build-up of wax in his ear, because he couldn’t have heard that last name correctly. The first-years were divided into two queues, with girls lining up in front of the female Hauptpräfekt and the boys with the dull one with the glasses. Dieter and Konrad were together, towards the front of the boy’s line.
“You will choose your room by randomly picking a key out of a sack,” Professor Odoaker instructed. “Your room number is on your key, and that’s where you’ll go. I hope I don’t need to remind any of you not to lose your keys. Now, are there any questions?”
There were none. Odoaker concluded, “Very well. Make sure to get a good night’s sleep tonight, no matter how tempting it may be to get to know your roommates…”
Hauptpräfekt Ziegelstein sounded quite bored as he motioned for each boy to approach and pull a key out of a silk bag he held in his hands. Each boy took out a key, and a magic quill on a nearby table recorded the rooming arrangements. The line moved surprisingly quickly, and soon it was Dieter’s turn.
“Name?” the bespectacled präfekt said in his bored, tired voice. Dieter gave his name, and he was prompted to take a key from the bag.
He reached in and closed his fingers around cold iron. The key that came out bore the address, ‘6J’. The magic quill recorded this.
Dieter turned to Konrad and waved a wordless “good luck.” Though random selection was a good way to meet new people, Dieter had gotten along well with Konrad on the lengthy boat trip and hoped he would be one of his roommates. Save for the Heinrich boy, the other first-years Dieter had met at the table had been friendly enough, and could make good roommates.
He passed through a door labelled ‘boys’, and proceeded up a narrow spiral staircase six levels. Once Dieter made it to the landing in front of room 6J, he decided he had had enough of climbing steps.
Room 6J was perfectly round and rather small, evidently residing in a narrow tower. There was a single, large window directly opposite the door, and on either side of this aperture were two bunk beds that fitted snugly against the curved wall. Some storage space was situated to the sides, and to the left of the door Dieter had just entered was the lavatory.
“Top bunk!” he said, mostly to himself. As he didn’t have much of anything to mark his territory, he took off his Durmstrang robes and threw it onto the top bunk to right of the window. He also stripped off the superficial tie and armband from the Deutsches Jungvolk uniform he had been wearing underneath the crimson cloak.
His trunk was missing, and Dieter wondered whether it was still on Die Seeschlange. As if to answer that very question, the window burst open and something big, boxy, and brown flew into the room. It was his trunk.
Dieter heard the lock to the door turn, and Konrad entered the room. “Well, well, isn’t this an extraordinary coincidence?” he said. A few seconds later, the window opened violently for a second time, and Konrad’s luggage landed in the room. He claimed the other top bunk.
Several minutes passed before the next roommate arrived. In that time, Dieter decided to get ready for bed, first by brushing his teeth. He left the lavatory door open as he busied himself with his toothbrush and toothpaste.
He didn’t expect Konrad to ask, “What are you doing?”
“I’m doing what it looks like. I’m brushing my teeth.”
Konrad walked closer and curiously inspected the implement with little bristles on its end. “Why do you need a brush for your teeth? There aren’t any hairs in your mouth“”
The lock clunked and the door opened. Dieter quickly rinsed out his mouth and stepped out of the lavatory to see who had come inside.
It was a boy Dieter hadn’t seen before, wearing a worn Durmstrang robe that didn’t quite fit his lean frame. Everything about him seemed to be vertical. He was skinny, taller than Dieter, and had a narrow face. His dark brown hair was for the most part combed, but some stray strands stuck up at the back.
“Ah, welcome to room 6J, new roommate,” Konrad greeted enthusiastically. He offered his hand for the new boy to shake and asked, “So, who might you be?”
“Ernst Busch,” he answered. He shook Konrad’s and Dieter’s hands, who replied with their own introductions. Ernst’s voice was quiet and reserved, but his grip was at least firm. He took off his Durmstrang robe to reveal a worn buttoned shirt and trousers.
“Are you Muggle-born?” Konrad asked, and Ernst nodded reservedly.
“Dieter is too,” said Konrad, but Ernst already knew that just by looking at Dieter’s outfit.
A third trunk entered through the window. It was battered, and some of the leather coating was peeling off the wooden frame. Ernst’s ears and cheeks turned slightly red, and he was doing his best not to be embarrassed by the state of his luggage or the clothes he was wearing.
“Isn’t this castle incredible?” he asked in a diversionary effort. “I cannot wait for classes to start tomorrow, and I never would of thought I could learn to do magic…”
They conversed about the various subjects they thought sounded interesting. Ernst had some enthusiasm for Transfiguration and Charms, and he managed to smile just slightly while mentioning those topics.
The door was unlocked and opened for the last time. The three boys abruptly ended their conversation and looked to see who would be the fourth roommate.
A tall, thin boy with mid-length black hair entered room 6J. It was the same boy who a few hours before had asked for a seat on the ship and complained to the Oberpräfekt about climbing Cardiac Slope.
His eyes swept from Dieter, and then to Ernst. He did not look pleased, and grumbled something that Dieter couldn’t catch. It didn’t even sound like German.
“Well?” Konrad prompted.
In an unplaceable accent, the boy gave a very forced “Hello.” He very obviously wanted nothing more than to leave.
“So, what’s your name?” Dieter asked insistently. The boy fixed him a cold stare.
“Karkaroff. Igor Karkaroff.”