A/N:

This one shot has been written as part of a challenge set by the lovely people over at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)

The task was to research and write about the medieval witch Nerida Vulchanova, and her 'mysterious demise'

What needed to be done

Nerida Vulchanovo observed the man in front of her; for perhaps the millionth time Harfang Munter had approached her about placing a greater emphasis on duelling and martial magic in the school's curriculum.

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate that her students needed to be ready for the unexpected, but there was a fine line between that and excessive and wholly unnecessary teachings in the way of the Dark Arts which was something that Harfang felt the students needed to learn in order to be more prepared.

With every refusal she had given him over the years, Harfang had been getting more and more frustrated with her to the point where she dreaded having these discussions with him.

"Harfang, I appreciate how you feel on the matter, but this is an institute where the children can come to learn magic in a safe environment; what you are proposing would undermine that fundamental value of the school," Nerida told him, pushing her chair back and standing.

Harfang had fully expected this response from the woman who had founded Durmstrang; as far as he was concerned she was too stuck in her ways and worried about reputation. The students needed to learn that the world wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, and they would never learn this with Nerida as Headmistress. He couldn't afford to wait any longer.

He had been considering the best way that he could dispatch of the stubborn woman without implicating himself in it. Harfang had come to the decision that the only way to do so would be by killing her. He had considered and then disregarded using the recently invented Advada Kedavra curse, which even though legal would cause far too much suspicion to fall onto him should anyone see him leaving. No he needed to be much cleverer about this.

Feigning resignation, Harfang nodded his head in agreement and responded, "Shall we toast to the future of Durmstrang Institute? I think I have a bottle of mead in here somewhere."

He produced the bottle from inside his cloak, which he had laced earlier that day with a little known potent and fast acting poison. He stood up and walked over to Nerida's small cabinet in the corner of the room, and retrieved two small goblets and poured them both a very generous measure.

"To Durmstrang," they both said as they clinked goblets and drained the contents.

Knowing that he had very little time left before the poison began to work, Harfang hastily made his excuses to leave, saying that he still had some marking to do for his Seventh Year Defence Against the Darks Arts class, and slyly took the evidence of his deed with him.

As soon as he was out of the room, he grabbed the small vial in his pocket and drained the antidote to the poison he had just given to Nerida and cheerfully hopped towards his room.

He had done what needed to be done, and before the day was over Nerida Vulchanovo would be dead, and a new day would dawn for Durmstrang Institute with him at the helm as Headmaster.

Back in the Headmistress' office, Nerida had collapsed on the floor and begun to fit violently as she gasped for breath. Harfang has done this, she realised as she was taking her last breaths.

Minutes later Nerida Vulchanovo lay dead on her office floor, and even centuries later people would still wonder what had caused her sudden and mysterious death, always suspecting but unable to prove that her successor had been her downfall.

A/N:

Thoughts, feelings, opinions.

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