Heinrich Grindelwald and the Tide of Darkness

Chapter 7

The flag was hoisted and the ship began its rocking. The wind billowed the sails strongly, as the waves of the cold sea impacted against the sturdy frame of the galleon that would lead him and Jean to Durmstrang. The cold salty air hit his face repeatedly, as the bitter cold flailed his nostrils and his eyes. Covered as he was and with his trunk packed and shrunk in his inner pocket, his only worry was to hold tightly upon the side of the ship itself. Apparently, it was the test of admission.

The first years of Durmstrang stood tied to the central mast in fear and fright, as the ship rocked up and down through the mighty waves that belonged only to the fiercest of storms, and yet there they were. His mind reeled in the thought of the undead feasting upon his ankles while a maelstrom poured its watery grave upon him, and with that thought he couldn't help but hold tightly to the bulwarks. Jean wasn't fairing any better, and yet she stood right in front of him.

They both were clad in the thick dark furs that were needed for the warm months, as well as the cold ones since there was no change of clothing required. The warming charm was the first charm taught at the school, soon followed by those to avoid frostbite and to stave off scurvy. Why said charms were needed became clear the moment they set their gazes forward. An archipelago of pure ice and snow lingered at the horizon as the ship's speed increased as if to mock their efforts at holding on.

Jean's hands slipped as she fell backwards, only to be held by his own body with a small groan. The girl was still weak because of the Azkaban prison, and yet she had even gone as far as insisting on taking this admission together with him. She could have appeared directly with Gellert through the use of the issued portkey, but she had felt the need to turn a new leaf, just like him. Just like him there she stood holding against the cold and the wind, and the feeling was something impossible to describe.

Holding your own feet firmly planted as the ship moved and turned to reach the frozen bay carved within the monolithic iceberg did more than simply make you feel strong: it made you feel at the head of the world. The ship's every movement was a symphony of creaking sounds of wood mixing with the strong smell of tar and of the sea, and yet in that precise moment, with the Ocean letting them leave its own embrace for the safety of the harbor in question, he couldn't help but long back a view to what he had left.

"Ye'r got sea eyes boy." A gruff voice grumbled from the bridge, slightly above and behind them, where the captain of the ship had stood looking out with his telescope. "Ye ever been on a ship?"

"No sir," Heinrich replied quickly, "First…time." He added.

"Ye don' look like a firstie ta me." The captain replied. "Transfer?"

"Yessir." He replied quickly, thankful that Jean had took that moment to grab hold once more of the bulwark, since the stopping of the ship happened abruptly, nearly making him tumble forward. "Third year, me and Jean here."

"Jean? Little Frenchie miss? Coming from that sissy school of 'bawdbaton'?" There was something about the word 'bawd' that made Heinrich flinch slightly. If only he could recall what it was about…

"My surname is Gregorovitch." Jean hissed back, "And you're right: it was for sissy and we left." She then spat against the wooden floor and turned around, her boots stomping furiously on the ground as she moved towards the lowered planks on the side of the ship that would lead the students ashore.

"Aye, she's got a fire in her that one." The captain aptly mused out loud, "Gregorovitch uh? Like the wand maker. Suppose you have to follow her kid."

"Yes, I suppose I should sir." Heinrich replied, starting to move towards the plans himself.

"Call me Captain boy! If ya ever want to try yer hand at a ship again, there's the Seamanship elective!" Those words filing away in his ears, Heinrich moved carefully down the plank that would lead him to the port's ice docks, and from there near Jean who was currently waiting for him next to Gellert himself. The old man had no need to conjure some sort of illusion or to use polyjuiced. He was old, and the people expected him to be in prison. Nobody would have cared for an old man who was apparently with two recently transferred students.

He even had given them permission to use the name Basileus to call him…and the cover was that he was their private tutor from their deceased family. Heinrich couldn't after all keep the surname 'Grindelwald' in the school: it would bring forth too many questions and problems. So he had to revert to Heinrich Prince, just like Severus would have wanted to.

He kind of wondered if the man would ever contact him to begin with during the course of the school year, or if he'd rather not at all. Technically it was better this way: with no contact, there was no way of compromise. Yet he couldn't help but think that something would eventually go the wrong way, for some reason. Surprisingly, the trip to the headmaster's office was something relatively brief. The man, Igor Karkaroff, was a simpering fool who handed over to them a list to check which courses they decided to follow, with their relative hours during the week.

The core courses were:

Offensive and Defensive magic.

Charm and Transfiguration.

Herbology and Potions.

History of man and wizard.

Astronomy.

The electives on the other hand varied from Magical Creatures to Necromancy while passing through things like Seamanship and heading off towards Ancient spells. The electives stood on at least three pages, while the core courses were clearly a minority and far less in number…

"We at Durmstrang value the individual," Igor began, carefully nervous for Gellert being in the same room as him probably, "All the core courses are done in the first three days of a week, leaving the other four free to do with as many or as little electives as you like to." The probably Russian or Germanic professor began, "There is no space for stupidity however. You are required to do at least three elective courses. In the event that more than one overlaps worry not, for there are at the very minimum two professors assigned for each course and neither do the lesson at the same time."

Heinrich eyes bulged as he looked at the list again biting his lips.

'Creation of magical artifacts' seemed so interesting…just like 'Trench warfare' and 'Battle Tactics'. He wondered if it was the fact that most if not all of the electives were centered on killing something or someone that made Durmstrang's fame as 'Dark' in the world renowned.

"Exams for the Electives can also be done after the winter vacations, to advance to the next level of the elective sooner," Igor began, "Or during the spring break…questions?"

"What about…the language issue?" Jean asked, looking uncomfortable, "Are the lesson going to be in German or Dutch or…"

"English." Igor replied without batting an eyelid.

"Wh…What?" Heinrich blurted out without controlling himself, "Not that it's a bad thing, but," hurriedly he added, "Why in English?"

"We at Durmstrang cater to the needs of many who seek discipline, stern harsh work and seek to become the best." Igor puffed out his chest as he spoke, clearly taking pride in his work. "Our curriculum is the most competitive in the world, and we hold our students' future need to their highest regards. We have students from all over the world for our famous Seamanship course and wizard police from various countries coming to do update courses in our halls concerning Tactics and Warfare and much more."

"In my times, it was 'Russian or death'," Gellert grumbled, "Tovarisch."

"Times change." Igor replied slowly, "People change."

"People never change, Karkaroff." Gellert muttered, "They just put a mask on their true face."

"Heinrich?" He was interrupted from his interest in the two older men conversation by Jean's voice. The girl was looking at him with a sort of worried expression, her eyes looking from his face to his still not checked paper. "Have you chosen already?" She too appeared to have left everything except the core courses blank.

"What do you want to do?" Heinrich asked carefully.

"Well…" She bit her lip, "There's this elective on Medi-wizard preparation…"

Heinrich nodded and checked it. "Then?"

"Mythological Creatures and Ancient Spells." Jean replied, before quickly adding, "You don't have to choose the same as…"

"We'll do a few together, so I can keep an eye out for you." Heinrich whispered carefully, "And we can compare notes too. I'll be trying out Seamanship, Tactics, Necromancy and Spell-making." At the last one, Igor strangely laughed with a bit of nervousness, while Gellert chuckled clapping his hands.

"Add Elemental spells and Ancient Runes to your electives and you'll end up doing the same school courses as I did." Heinrich nodded at that information, before checking those courses too. He bit his lip as he looked over at what Jean had been checking instead. Mostly theoretical ones like Ancient History and Arithmancy coupled with Infiltration in Muggle Society and Potion Creation.

"Each elective lasts a year usually," Igor spoke carefully, "nothing prohibits you from adding more next year if your schedule frees up." The Headmaster then cautiously grabbed the stack of papers and sighed. "I'll finish compiling these. Miss Jean Gregorovitch, Mister Heinrich Prince, let me personally welcome you to Durmstrang: Numquam oculos coniicias evertant a veritate."

"Never turn your eyes away from the truth." Gellert pointed out. "Now you'd better go together with the first years to get an idea of the school itself." The old wizard looked pointedly to Igor, who nodded. "They'll be waiting by the docks: don't lose yourself and if in trouble, ask a Praefectus or a Gubernator. The Praefectus have a silver patch with stripes on their right shoulder, while the Gubernator have golden ones on their left shoulders."

Heinrich nodded mutely, before turning to leave. He was quickly followed by Jean, and once the two of them left the Headmaster's office, they began to navigate in the opposite way the dense cluttering of tunnels dug in the mixture of stone and ice that was the castle.

The Headmaster's office overlooked the harbor and was accessible through a steep flight of stairs covered in thick ice and without any railing to speak of. The reason Durmstrang boots required nailing was made clear when the ice on the various floors was seen. The group of first years had been waiting for a while, when the two of them joined the assembled students. It was quite a number actually.

Far more than the number seen at Hogwarts, the first years were at the very least thirty or forty in numbers, and as they all crowded the entrance of the ice structure, Heinrich couldn't help but feel slightly overwhelmed. It was like entering the frozen jaws of an ice dragon after all, yet the torches that flickered within the beast's throat gave him reassurance since they were hinged upon copper rings that stood within stone walls.

"Listen up!" A female Praefectus with blond hair and a slightly 'rotund' complexion roared, "I'm sure half of you twits have been warned by your parents already, for the other half that wasn't, then here's the deal: you shut your damn mouth and you follow the Professor's orders! Understood!?"

"Right," The male Gubernator spoke next. The boy seemed to have sixteen or maybe seventeen years, he was sporting a pair of Quidditch gloves and looked sourly pissed at the entire first year, albeit maybe it was the squared jaw and the death glare. "Now first off, if you can't yap a word in English you shut your damn mouth and study! There's an extra course for learning the language of the micks, the jocks and the pommies and you're all forced to learn it! So I hope you…" word in a Germanic accented tongue, "get it, because I won't repeat myself again."

"Now," the female Praefectus began again, "You'll be bunking together with others of your same sex, no relationships are allowed at Durmstrang and if you're found in the bed of someone else with that someone else then you'd better have an excuse ready."

Several of the first years actually had the decency to make sounds of disgust. Heinrich raised an eyebrow. Why were they telling this to the first years?

"Secondly, we at Durmstrang do not believe in pranks or bullying." The Gubernator continued, "We believe in discipline and corporal punishments however. You will find out that there are things worse than a good flogging pretty soon however, so one last word of advice for you little kids…"

Silence stretched in the entrance for few minutes, as everyone quieted down from their murmurs to hear what the boy had to say.

"Stand tall and hold yourself with pride! Durmstrang will bring you to greatness, but remember that you must carve your own path towards it!"

"Clap you idiots!" The Praefectus snapped, getting an immediate ovation from the crowd of first years, with Heinrich clapping hesitantly and looking with peculiar look at Jean herself, who was lost in thoughts. Well, it was too late for second thoughts, and just how much different could Durmstrang be from Hogwarts to begin with?

The tour began with passing through the entranceway, the long corridor of stone pierced deeply within the titanic iceberg until the air slowly began to grow warmer, if 'from minus fifty' to 'minus thirty' was a difference in temperature of course. The warming charm was actually a pretty good thing to have memorized. The long tunnel ended with an opening that led once more outside, but this time within the inner confines of the iceberg in question, which held a plain composed mostly of dirt and rocks with few sparse bushes of grass. Deep within the barren land stood an old looking castle upon a hill, surrounded by crooked and blackened trees with a cobblestone road leading up to the castle's moat.

The sky was crystal clear, albeit they had just passed through a storm to reach the bay of the Iceberg. Heinrich understood now what it meant with Durmstrang having the most space out of all schools. The plain took them an entire hour of march to pass through, and by the time they reached the moat of the castle they were exhausted. The first years that is, Heinrich was merely catching his breath slowly, while Jean seemed bewildered by the sheer amount of walking they had to do.

She hadn't spoken yet though, probably with good conscience considering how the Praefectus was apparently hounding on her with her eyes. He had no idea why, but the Gubernator was doing the same thing with him. Probably because they were third years, or probably because the Headmaster of Durmstrang had asked the two to keep an eye out on them. In any case, the group passed through the moat as the bridge was lowered to let them through, before lifting itself back up and leaving them all in pitch black darkness.

There was silence, if not for the tell-tale sound of water dripping on cold hard stone floor. Heinrich didn't move as he took a deep breath, the dark mixed with the sound of dripping water reminded him somehow of the Chamber of Secrets. Yet as he stood there taking deep calming breath, he could hear those of Jean becoming more and more hitched as her hands searched for his arm and clenched it.

Heinrich understood then. This was so much like Azkaban that Jean as starting to believe something that wasn't there to begin with. Maybe she hadn't completely healed from the exposure, but if her hard breathing was of any notice, she appeared on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. Heinrich 'official' wand came out from his sleeve slowly, as he carefully moved Jean quietly behind him. If this was some sort of 'christening' the new students, then…

"FIRST YEARS…"

"LUMOS MAXIMA!" Heinrich had expected his spell to merely light on the area. Truly, he had expected the addition of 'maxima' to increase the light so as to comfortably take in his surroundings. He had expected the very same level of power of his old wand.

He hadn't expected his new wand to have completely different parameters of work. The light that came out was as blinding as that of the sun, directed into a beam that struck against the ceiling and pulsed, surrounding the entire room in a surprisingly white glow. The result was like being in a tan tank, only the neon lights were everywhere.

"Argh! You're ruining everything!" A voice echoed through the hall. "Stop the spell for Merlin's beard, stop the spell!" Heinrich flicked his wrist, and the next moment people had to rub their eyes to adjust to the now far more dimmer room.

"Thanks." Jean whispered next to him. Heinrich merely nodded back before turning to the source of the voice that was apparently floating over towards them with an angry face.

"I must say!" The ghost appeared to be a pirate, with a hat and a ghostly parrot on his shoulder. He wielded a cutlass and held an eye-patch on his right eye, a thick beard that once was probably luxurious and well-kept flailed wildly in front of the ghost's body. The ghostly figure hovered to a stop in front of Heinrich, squaring him upside down before grumbling. "Well? You think it's funny to ruin my fun boy? I scare the firsties only once a year! Astrid! Why the hell didn't you stop the boy!?"

The Praefectus walked forward with a light cough, "Captain Blackbeard, we thought he wouldn't react so quickly."

"You realize it's a pity then." 'Blackbeard' muttered, "My presentation, woe to you boy, woe to you..." The ghost pirate then turned around, and 'spitting' to the side disappeared through a wall. Heinrich kept his face as neutral as possible, probably because he was trying to avoid displaying shock or surprise. Of course old castles had ghosts…stupidly, he hadn't thought about that.

"Are we going to expect trouble from you, boy?" The Gubernator queried strongly a few seconds later, eying him with distaste.

"No." Heinrich replied, "I…I'm sorry," he added carefully, "I just reacted on instinct."

"It was my fault." Jean quickly interrupted the conversation, "I'm terrified of the dark and he…"

"Not asking you girl." The Gubernator snapped back, "Keep your nerves on you from now on, understood?" The older boy added with a low growl, eying him with barely repressed contempt.

"Yes sir." Heinrich answered quickly.

"Good. Keep it that way: Astrid, get these third years to their floor while I take care of the firsties." The Gubernator snapped, as the Praefectus girl now known as Astrid nodded back, before gesturing for the two of them to follow.

Leaving behind the group of slightly worried first years, Heinrich began to walk in silence alongside Jean, both of them following the Praefectus through a red carpeted hallway that held paintings of lords and knights of clear Teutonic descent. Some of the symbols were Germans, while others appeared Austrian with a mixture of Russian and generally of the Northern area of Europe.

"Durmstrang holds as many as one thousand seven hundred students at any time." Astrid began to explain, "The entire complex known as 'Durmstrang' is built upon three giant Icebergs interconnected and kept eternally from melting thanks to magic. The storm that surrounds the complex is passable only through specific ships that have to bear the symbol of the school."

"But…I read the castle was near a river and…that it had mountains." Jean began hesitantly, probably not willing to receive a snappish remark so soon after having her nerves shaken. Heinrich looked at the girl with concern. He'd probably have to speak with her soon enough after all: he doubted speaking with magical Hitler had worked in calming her down…and he was already mad enough to give her some insight at least on how to behave. If anything, he wouldn't be the only one having a tea party with the mad hatter eventually.

"One of the castles does." Astrid replied nodding. "It's the one for the fourth, fifth and sixth years. It's bigger and it's located on the second Iceberg. The third one instead is only for the seventh years and the people visiting for the updating courses."

"Just how big is this place?" Heinrich asked surprised, well, not exactly. If it had to harbor a thousand and seven hundred students…divided per seven years of scholastic institute, then it meant something like two hundred and forty-two students per year. Considering the workload and assuming that the headmaster's words were true about multiple teachers for the same subject, then just how big were the classes and how many students could a class be composed of?

"Quite big." Astrid replied taking a flight of stairs upwards, "There is a set of space enlarging charms tied directly in to the wards too. Many rooms were the size of cupboards originally and now can hold six bunk-beds without problems." The blond haired plump girl walked sternly through a set of armored suits…on armored horse suits on a very large hallway. "Ignore the armors. They tend to act cranky in the morning because they play all night long."

Heinrich raised an eyebrow before looking at a suit of armor, who stared back at him with a defiant…Helmet-look, because there were no eyes to stare back at. He filed it for later, deciding his brain had taken in the 'magic' of Hogwarts, and that Durmstrang was merely no different. So what if they had armor suits playing at night…he hoped they had silencing charms for the room.

"Now, all classes are held on the same floor of the dormitories," Astrid continued, "Tomorrow morning you will be down in the dining hall and I'll hand over your lesson plans. For today you can explore freely, ask a portrait or something for help if you need it…but don't ask the statues out by the back garden. They hate students for some reason and they speak in a strict Dutch dialect that makes no sense."

"Anything else to be wary of?" Heinrich asked, "I know for sure there's a dangerous forest somewhere…"

"Yes kid, but that's for the Seventh year to have nearby. You don't really think we'd have first years stay next to the Wahnsinnig Forest now, right?"

"Wahn…Whan…Whansingin…sinnig?" Heinrich muttered trying to pronounce it as the girl had, but failing miserably in his endeavor.

"Wahnsinnig. Where are you from, Belgium? Norway? You don't look like an Italian and you're not Russian to begin with."

"Italian? Why would Italians be at Durmstrang?" Jean piped in curious, trying to divert the conversation and actually succeeding in it.

"Because Durmstrang moves and usually we're docked at the Bermuda triangle," which now gave far more than a good reason concerning the 'haunted' myth of the place, "And we've got the best courses of Seamanship in the wizardry world. The Universitatis in Italy offers nothing more than a field day in the stuff, here we get you on a ship and we bring you back a man…or a corpse." Astrid smiled sweetly, "Fourth years even get to build their own boats if they want to." She added wistfully. "Usually the Italians transfer in at the start of the third year, since it's when the electives come in. We also have some from France who refuse Beauxbatons and some from Germany too."

They had by then reached yet another staircase, passing by rooms that had on the side numbers and letters, probably the classrooms. As they began to climb the last staircase between them and their rooms, Heinrich found himself once more wondering about the differences. It made sense now that Durmstrang was bigger. Still…

Oh no.

"Do British Wizards transfer here too to attend the Seamanship course?" He asked, holding his breath. If a transfer from Hogwarts came around…they'd be screwed. Sure, Hermione was now Jean and had raven hair, while he was now Heinrich Prince and had blond hair, blue eyes and lacked glasses as colored lenses were easier to use…and also did the eye coloring. He was kind of the perfect little Nazi boy. Hitler would have put him with the Nazi youth had he seen him.

"No, there's a school over in Ireland for that," Astrid replied, "We do have some Australian wizards too though, and some from South Africa and Brazil."

"Do all of them enjoy taking boat rides?" Heinrich asked curious by the sheer amount of people who seemed to enjoy travelling by boat. Wasn't Floo powder good enough? Apparition and Portkeys too? Why would so many people want to learn how to travel by boat of all things?

"For many it's tradition," Astrid replied carefully, "And since we can't have Quidditch matches for most of the season since it's not safe while moving Durmstrang, sailing by boat is an admirable sport."

"Wait. How…" Heinrich received a giggle from the plump girl in reply, who nodded.

"Ah yes, you wonder: how can people on boats not get lost in the storm outside? Well, the three Icebergs are connected as a triangle, you see? So the center is a free pool of sea water. There are the inner docks for the students who wish to build their ships and battle one another...it's a good sport, better than Quidditch for many."

So while Hogwarts had Quidditch…Durmstrang had naval battles. Strangely he half suspected, mostly out of his deranged mind of course, that the school got funding also from the military to perform live field tests. It as something that came out of spy flicks of course, something that probably held no possibility to be true but still…with all this talk on 'external' advisors and the likes…the sheer numbers and all, just how did Durmstrang cover all of this with its budget when Hogwarts as a whole barely had one teacher for a class of twenty or more?

"The lessons start on the First of September," Astrid continued, "But they're in general revisions of stuff done the previous years at least for the first few weeks, in order to get aboard all students from the other countries we pass by on our way." The girl added, "Here is your room," she said while pointing to a mahogany door that held four name plates.

Jean Gregorovitch.

Hilda Gould.

Gertrude Fortuyn.

Brigitte Eisenberg.

"They're all third years. We shuffle students at the change of every year to make sure they get to meet new people." Astrid commented proudly, "Follow me for the moment though: let's get Heinrich here to his own room." As they kept on walking, Heinrich could feel a distinctive lack of…of emotions. This wasn't like when he had first entered Hogwarts. Sure, this place was magical and held its own history and quirks, but it wasn't Hogwarts. It was…something else. It felt strange to actually comment on it, but it just…it didn't feel right to be here. A few ghosts passed by, dressed like Spanish Conquistadores and moving forward at the sound of a loud fanfare, while Astrid clicked her tongue in remembrance.

"Nearly forgot: we get some Spanish too from time to time, albeit they generally do go to their own academy." It took him a few more minutes to realize he still had no general clue why people would leave their own country to get to Durmstrang and get aboard their seamanship course. Sure, he knew it was because of its 'scholastic' purpose and because it seemed the school's preferred sport, and he could understand that, but the 'why' still stuck to him as a bit strange.

There had to be something else concerning it after all. He'd ask around eventually, but till then he stopped to look at the plague Astrid had gestured towards him.

Heinrich Prince.

Elmo Luzzatto.

Thomas Goossens.

Nikolai Sidorov.

"And this is your room." Astrid stated, "the Dining hall is just straight ahead of the entranceway: you cannot miss it. Students take turn cooking with the house elves. Do not enter the kitchens. It is prohibited to pilfer food from the larder and the house elves have been ordered to immediately warn the nearest Praefectus or Gubernator of who is doing the deed. You will be severely punished if you break the curfew at ten in the night, and during the weekends you will be granted permission, if approved by your guardian, to visit Miami once we reach the Bermuda Triangle."

"Miami." Heinrich deadpanned.

"Yes." Astrid replied without blinking. "The Bermuda triangle is near the North America."

"So…Durmstrang is a complex of Icebergs. It travels from Northern Europe down to Australia while passing through Russia, France, Spain, Italy and South Africa. It picks up the students and then heads over to Miami. All in less than a couple of weeks." He asked again in order to be sure.

"Yes." Astrid replied again, raising an eyebrow in questioning. Probably trying to understand what had him shocked. "Is there a problem?"

"And it's been doing this since its founding?" Heinrich quietly asked.

"Course not." Astrid rolled her eyes, "Only since eighteen ninety-six."

"Little less than a century then." The boy replied quietly, "And nobody realizes this? I mean: what of the American wizards?"

"What of them?" The girl asked curious, but with the glint of a smirk as if she was having fun with him.

"Isn't Durmstrang…kind of belonging to a government?"

"Certainly not." Astrid replied firmly, "Durmstrang is a ship in international waters, has always been and will always be. We get permission to disembark the students, the American Wizards get the students' galleons when they go and visit Magical Miami, and everyone is happy."

"And why does nobody realize that Durmstrang is a giant moving ship?"

"Wards. They make people not ask the right questions." Astrid nodded.

"So…magic."

"Magic." The blond girl nodded again.

Heinrich, on the other hand, felt the wave of a massive headache hit him. Just how small had he believed the world to be? One thousand and seven hundred students? This was a veritable army, a veritable fort…a fortress. One of the many…the prophecy had given him a choice hadn't it? A choice…a choice Gellert wanted him to make. The man…the man hadn't let him bleed on the wards of Nurmengard because of this. Because he wanted him to choose between Durmstrang and Nurmengard, between the Inferi or this massive, this…this titanic thing of magic.

Yes, the headache he was feeling was making him feel completely out of his right state of mind.

He had to sleep. Sleep and think it all over calmly the next day.

Probably.

If he didn't kill Gellert with his own hands of course.

Author's notes

And Durmstrang is done.

I made Durmstrang a 'floating fortress' that ties in with the prophecy and has thus no problem with his placement (since it moves), furthermore I nicely tied in the sheer ignorance of the magical world that Harry/Heinrich still has, because being a thirteen years old does not mean knowing everything. And this also explains why Gellert postponed the 'marking' of Nurmengard. He couldn't say it out loud but couldn't even let the boy pass up on it.

Now, as for the names on the plagues: they're Dutch/German/Austrian for Jean, and Italian/Belgian/Russian for Heinrich. Of course the countries they belong to aren't the same as to where I took the names from, but I did have to take slightly different names to showcase the 'internationality' of the school. If you expect me to pull a 'Rowling' and write over a thousand OCs, think again. The third year is all about duality and coming to terms with certain things.

Although the 'Tide of Darkness' and the Seamanship course do have a nice ring don't they?

(We'll have Lillian's third year too of course, worry not)