Chapter 4

The next morning, Hermione rose a little less desperate than she had been on her arrival. Draco had been pleasant enough, so had the Headmistress. Perhaps it wouldn't be as she feared. She found herself even looking forward to the day, cautiously, of course. It was a good thing Ron wasn't here. He would have had a thing or two to say about her being so easily wooed and taken in by hospitality.

She decided to be on her guard regardless and see if she could pick up any ominous signs from the teaching staff or the students regarding students without a magical background.

A few hours later, she shut the door to her room with a loud bang. She had been wrong to hope. It was horrible. They had been absolutely horrible!

It had started out nice enough…

The Headmistress led her through the small, dark and gothic castle to the dining hall for breakfast. The hall was smaller than Hogwarts's but still eerily alike. Four large tables and one for the teachers facing the four tables. The food was different, heartier and rustic. The ceiling didn't reflect the sky but had a Medieval mosaic pattern portraying knights and dragons in battle. The teachers were friendly and engaging. If they had any blood-prejudices, they didn't flaunt it at least.

After breakfast, she was showed around the castle and the grounds. Outside of the castle, a cold wind blowing through her clothes, the first cracks in the hospitable treatment began to appear. The trees around the paddock with horses had strange carvings in them. It looked like red and black raindrops perhaps? The black one had a red cross over it though. She had noticed similar drawings on the castle walls, mostly inside the hallways. She decided to ask the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, a tiny thin man, about it. His balding head seemed almost too heavy for his body to carry. Hermione wondered how on earth he controlled the animals, but witnessing his spell work and commanding voice soon answered that question.

"It's blood drops," he said, unfazed. "Red for Wizard, black for Mudblood." Hermione nodded, dumbfounded. He hadn't even used the word Muggle-born to be polite.

"The school doesn't see this as vandalism?" she asked. "I saw it on the walls inside as well."

"When it's getting too much we fix it , but they always return. That's pranksters for you," he said, uninterested. "Let me show you our herd of Bicorns. They're some of the best specimens around."

Hermione was still seething with rage at the blood drop carvings when she returned to the castle. No prejudices against Muggle-borns, indeed. She wondered if the other teachers didn't care either. In her eyes, it was a call to wipe out Muggle-borns, and she didn't think she was overreacting.

Clearly they did think precisely that. The Arithmancy teacher, an old grey lady with blue streaks in her hair, said it wasn't a big deal. It was just an expression of an opinion. A rather popular opinion even. She didn't see it as hateful, merely expressing a fact. Pure-bloods were the better Wizards: that was all it meant. The Triwizard Tournament might be a way to actually prove that, she thought and said so rather boastfully.

"It isn't a call for….? Well, violence against them?" Hermione pushed. The woman glared at her.

"Of course not!" She spat. "That's your prejudiced opinion. Durmstrang is not an evil school and I deeply resent the suggestion."

Hermione fell silent. The last thing she needed was a fight. "Why do you think it has been crossed out then?" she asked, trying to sound not too angry.

"It simply means they are not allowed to join our school. It doesn't mean we want them out of the way or that won't be hospitable to the students of other schools."

"I see," Hermione didn't believe a word of it but let the matter rest for now.

After a tour through most of the classrooms and dorms, conducted by various teachers, she ended in the dueling hall. It was a beautiful space, especially designed for practicing and witnessing duels. Famous duels were pictured on the walls and she could glimpse Krum in one of them. He appeared to be losing though.

The Dueling teacher was clearly proud of her subject and went on and on about the famous Duelers that Durmstrang had thought over the years. She even mentioned Grindewald without an ounce of shame. When she was finally done, Hermione asked about some of the other subjects and between Divination and Study of Ancient Runes, she got to asked the one question that really mattered.

"What about Muggle Studies?" she asked innocently. "Who teaches that subject?"

"Muggle Studies?" The red-haired Dueling teacher laughed. "Whatever would they need that for?"

"To understand the Muggle world better and Muggle-borns, of course," Hermione was beginning to lose her patience.

"And why would they want to do so?" was the return question. "I honestly can't see the point since we usually don't engage with Muggles and Muggle-borns generally tend to live in the Wizarding World anyhow."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "You are serious, aren't you?" Her voice was deflated.

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Why don't you ask our students?" she suggested. "See if they take to the idea. "Natalya?!" she called out to a blond girl with braids. "Come here for a minute. This lady comes from Hogwarts and likes to ask you a few questions."

Natalya shyly approached Hermione. She replied only with yes- and no answers but it soon became clear the teacher might have a point. For the rest of the afternoon, Hermione stopped random students in the hallways to interview them and the results were disheartening to say the least.

That evening after dinner, she withdrew to her guest room. McGonagall would hear about this!

In her owl to McGonagall, Hermione recommended against organizing another Tournament.

They seem to be willfully ignorant. Think Fudge who didn't want to see what was under his nose. I don't know if I should blame the teachers for ignoring all this or the students for believing it. I refuse to be part of some ego-tripping talent show featuring Durmstrang as the best specimens of pure-blood Wizardry.

She was only just getting up some steam when a knock on the door stopped her. Hermione didn't really want to talk to anyone else but reluctantly opened the door.

It was Malfoy. She repressed a sigh and asked him what the purpose of his visit was.

"I've been sent to see if you're settling in," he came in without being invited and wandered around her room. Naturally he saw her owl. "Writing a report, I see?"

"Yes, and it's private." Hermione snapped as she quickly put a concealment spell on the letter.

He grinned. "Not stealing any secrets, are you? Or betraying our location?"

"You know I couldn't, even if I wanted to," she replied. Having to agree to be put under a Memory charm for that had personally stung her, even if it was mandatory and had been for centuries.

"Malfoy?" she began carefully. "Are you quite sure this Tournament is a good idea? I realize it's meant to put Durmstrang in the limelight, but one has to wonder…"

"Wonder what?"

"If it is, well, the right moment for it. I, for one, was rather shocked at the amount of prejudice here…"'

"Well, you would, wouldn't you?" He shot back. "You'd want to liberate house-elves and the likes, so no wonder you feel that way."

"What are you saying?" It seemed as if he implied something.

"McGonagall herself, she might be more…. Practical, more pragmatic about it."

"That's not how I know her," she defended her Headmistress. "She wouldn't stand for it either.."

"We'll see about that," Draco hissed. "Just you wait!"

He stormed out of her room. Hermione took a deep breath. What on earth did Malfoy mean?