It had been two days since Penka and the other hopefuls had left Durmstrang and several hours since they had set sail aboard the St Andrew. Already, the ship had been caught in a ferocious storm. Pelting rain lashed against the deck so fiercely that it could be heard as loud as the rolling thunder or the crashing waves. Around of a third of their two day journey would be spent underwater; the ship generally skimmed along the Norwegian coast for the first day then submerged just off the coast of Bergen. Penka hoped the storm would clear up before the ship went under, until it did she would be stuck below deck with her classmates. The smell she could deal with, it was no worse than the changing rooms she shared with the rest of the track team back at Durmstrang, but she hated not being on deck. She wanted to feel the wind rush through her hair as they hurtled along at 20 knots, fill her lungs with the crisp air of the Nordic Sea… Instead she was stuck in a damp cabin with a hundred or so sweaty teenagers, her hammock being rocked back and forth by waves breaking against the hull of the ship as she was trying to read. The storm seemed to be getting worse rather than better, so Penka decided she should have a word with the headmaster. With some difficulty given the turbulence, she got out of her hammock and climbed the creaking stairs onto the deck. The wind and rain blasted against her face as she ascended, holding firmly onto the bannister to stop herself being blown over by the thunderous gales.
"Professor!" she yelled up to the Captain's mast.
"CAPTAIN," came the booming reply of Professor Varvatsi "aboard my Grandfather's ship, you will refer to me as Captain!" He always got like this when they were aboard the St Andrew; he was furiously proud of his heritage. It was sweet really, if you knew him. Though most consider his strange nautical traditions to contribute to his intimidating manner.
"Apologies Captain, but are you sure we should be sailing in this weather?"
"Pah!" he scoffed "This is just a sprinkle! Besides, this'll be good for me to test my sailing!"
"Isn't that dangerous?" Penka asked.
Professor Varvatsi let out a deep, bellowing laugh that rang out through the rushing wind like a foghorn.
"Welcome to the quad-wizard tournament, Nikolov!" he chuckled maniacally as he steered the ship to a harsh right, narrowly avoiding a wave which looked certain to capsize them. If anyone else had been steering the ship Penka would be fearful for her life, but the Professor was as brilliant as he was mad. She had absolute faith that this bristling maniac would steer them safely to Hogwarts.
Penka was about to turn around and go back to her bunk when she spotted something up above: Some way off to the east were two black blurs streaming across the sky. They looked like the streaks of smoke left by muggle aeroplanes, only there was nothing at their head. It was as if the smoke itself was flying.
"What are those things?" she asked. Professor Varvatsi didn't reply, he'd clearly spotted them too and was watching intently, his brow furrowed with worry.
"Looks like we're not the only ones heading for England..." he said eventually, almost to himself.
"Are they dangerous?" Penka asked
Again, no reply. He just watched silently as the two creatures flew towards them. Then, suddenly, he shouted: "Get down!"
Penka saw too late what Professor Varvatsi was looking out for. A bolt of bright light flew towards them like a cannonball at incredible speed, narrowly missing the ship and striking the sea in front of them, sending a pillar of water shooting into the air and causing the ship to keel harshly. The impact knocked Penka back down the stairs below deck. Before she could get up and rush back on deck to see what was going on, the shutter door had slammed shut; the headmaster was readying the ship to submerge! The ship continued to keel as students in the cabin were flung from their bunks and barrels of food and water were thrown to the walls, the cabin erupted in a mad panic of students scrambling to grab onto something solid. Penka grabbed hold of the bannister until eventually the ship had turned completely upside down and they were all stood on the roof.
"What happened up there?" one boy asked Penka, with the rest of the cabin paying close attention to her response. She honestly didn't know what to say. What were those things? What should she even call them? The bolt of light looked like a spell, but they couldn't have been human… Perhaps it was some innate magic, like house elves? Penka just said the only thing she knew for sure,
"Professor Varvatsi is still out there"
Worry rippled through the cabin as soon as she spoke. The St Andrew was built to survive capsizing, and goodness knows if anyone could survive the plunge it was the headmaster, but what if he'd been flung from the helm? Who would right the ship and steer them to safety? As if in answer to their questions, the ship groaned deeply and began keeling back over. It was righting itself! Once the cabin was the right way up and the students dropped down back onto the floor, the entrance to the deck opened again and the wind and rain pelted in. As the students scrambled out onto the deck, Penka ahead of all of them of course, they saw the formidable figure of Ivan Varvatsi clinging to the helm; his vast leather jacket dripping with sea water and a clump of seaweed dangling from his ear. His great bearded face was beaming, he let out a booming laugh that lasted for several seconds before he finally addressed the hoard of confused, damp students.
"You lot needed a shower anyway!"