For I Am A Wicked Child

Horseface

***CHAPTER FOUR***

The More You Change The Less You Feel

When Draco awoke the next morning, it took him a while to remember where he was. 'Durmstrang,' he thought as he glanced around his room. Ever since the dormitories at Durmstrang were rebuilt, all of the 6th and 7th year students had their own private rooms, instead of sharing a room with five other people. Draco's father had managed to get him one of the larger rooms in the boys 6th year dormitory. Similar to his room at Hogwarts, he had a large four-poster bed, a bedside table and a dark wooden study desk, with a new quill and pot of ink sitting on top. It was bitterly cold in his room, as there was no fireplace, and Draco pulled his thick dark green blankets up higher. He'd always been fond of the colour green, even before he was in Slytherin. He lay in bed for a few minutes, before his stomach growled at him. Grudgingly, Draco pulled himself out of bed and got dressed into his new school robes. Looking in the large mirror on one of his walls he adjusted the collar of his blood-red robes and despite his pale complexion, the colour suited him rather well. He smirked at his reflection, before putting on his fur cloak and making his way down to breakfast. 

Through the long hall of the 6th year boys' dormitories and down the large staircase, which had the occasional breaks leading to the other year's dorm levels, Draco walked out the main door of the boy's dormitories. Glancing over his shoulder, Draco looked back at the dorm. It was large, around five stories, with a glass dome forming the roof. Like the ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, the dome was enchanted to change, but instead of the sky, it would imitate what the lake looked like. To anyone flying over Durmstrang, the dorms would look just like the surface of the lake. Draco stared at it for a few seconds longer, before turning back around. He took his time as he crossed the bridge from the dormitory, leading back to the main building of Durmstrang.

       Draco arrived at the hall to find Ivan, Nikolas and Damek sitting at the same table from last night, eating breakfast. Gunnar and Elisabet were there as well.

"Morning Draco," said Nikolas.

Draco said nothing as he took a seat between Nikolas and Elisabet. Food magically appeared on the plate in front of him, as well as a piece of parchment. As Draco took a bite of his food, he picked up the parchment and began to read it to himself.

'Elite Transfiguration, Elite DADA, Potions, Apparition,  …' It was his timetable. Except… Draco was taking six subjects, but there were only four listed, with a couple of blank spaces in between. Before he could ask anyone about it, he heard a loud screech from high above the tables.

 "Mail," he thought, as he saw hundreds of owls swoop through open windows and fly over the heads of the students. Draco spotted his own owl, carrying a small brown parcel. He caught it as his owl flew past, and glanced at it. It was from his mother, probably containing sweets.

As Draco was placing it on the table, he saw another owl approaching. As the owl flew passed, it dropped a letter in front of him. Draco smirked. He could tell who it was from, just be looking at the colour of the seal. Pale Pink. Pansy Parkinson. He'd forgotten to mention to her that he wasn't returning to Hogwarts. No doubt that was what the letter was about. He flipped the envelope open, unfolded the letter and began to read…

"Draco,

Why did you not tell me you were attending Durmstrang this year?! I only found out last night, in the Great Hall. I had to hear it from Goyle, of all people! I was so distraught I couldn't eat dinner last night!"

At this Draco had to laugh. Ever since the Yule Ball in fourth year, where Granger had undergone a complete transformation, Pansy had developed an eating disorder. And a newfound hatred for Mud bloods.

" When I wrote to my parents about it, they said that it was unfortunate, but for the best."

'Why doesn't that surprise me?' thought Draco, as he remembered that the Parkinson's had been part of the higher ranks of Voldemort's inner circle. Pansy's parents seemed to share his father's own sentiment of "The more, the merrier," when it came to prospective Deatheaters.

"That doesn't make it any better though. They refuse to let me transfer to Durmstrang saying I should complete my final years in England. But everyone here at Hogwarts is so stupid and boring. I don't know how I'll get through this year without you. You must write to me as soon as you get this letter.

Pansy."

Draco quietly put away the letter in his robes. He noticed how Pansy failed to mention anything about the end-of-year party from last year. Granted, she probably didn't actually remember anything about that night.

As Draco lifted his glass up to his mouth to take a drink of juice, Nikolas nudged him on the shoulder.

"First class starts soon," he said, gesturing towards Draco's timetable. "What have you got?"

Draco looked at his timetable. There was only a blank space.

"Nothing," said Draco. "Some incompetent idiot has screwed up my timetable." 

Nikolas pulled out a pocket watch from his robes.

"Look… now," he said.

 Skeptically, Draco looked at his timetable. 'Dark Arts,' was printed clearly in bold black ink. He turned to Nikolas, who grinned.

"Since some of the classes are… frowned upon by the Ministry of Magic, certain subjects only appear on your timetable five minutes before the classes start. It's just a precaution," he explained.

"Come on, I've got Dark Arts as well," said Nikolas, rising from the table.

Draco glanced at his timetable one more time, before following Nikolas to his first class at Durmstrang. 

       Lessons at Durmstrang were definitely a lot more interesting that those at Hogwarts. In Dark Arts, Draco found they would be studying very complex magic, unlike anything he would have ever learnt at his previous school. At the moment, they were learning how to summon dark mythical creatures. Draco had gained the teacher's favour, by managing to successfully summon a particularly vicious Kappa, before using the stupefy charm on it.

"Durmstrang could do with more students of your aptitude," said Professor Safford, the DA teacher. Draco couldn't help grinning smugly for the rest of the lesson.

He was surprised at how much Durmstrang really did focus on the darker side of wizardry. Even in Potions class, everything they were learning about was classified into two different categories; Innocens for harmless potions and Lethalis for deadlier concoctions.  In Advanced Transfiguration, they were learning about how to become Animagi, and they'd already begun practicals in Apparition, practicing on pumpkins. Draco's was one of the few that didn't get splinched.

"Not bad," said Nikolas. Draco was standing with Nikolas, Ivan and Gunnar outside the great hall, at the bottom of one of the staircases, which led to the classroom levels. Damek had already gone to Advanced Arithmancy, but all four of them had a blank space on their timetables, so they were waiting to see what class they had next. Ivan snorted.

 "So his pumpkin didn't get sliced up, big deal."

"Now, now Ivan," said Draco, "You did a pretty good job. I hear the house elves are enquiring about you. Apparently they need a juicer in the kitchen."

He was referring to how Ivan's pumpkin had exploded, before it had even gone anywhere. Nikolas and Gunnar snickered. Ivan scowled, but said nothing.

"Hey… lay off Ivan guys," said Nikolas, before adding, "It's a good thing you're not a vegetable, Draco, because then you'd really be in trouble!"

Ivan growled, and started to storm off, while everyone else was still laughing.

"Where are you going then?" called Nikolas.

" Dark Arts… so you bastards better watch your backs!" yelled Ivan. Nikolas coughed, trying to mask his laughter.

"How I quiver with trepidation," drawled Draco sarcastically.

"Shut up!!!" bellowed Ivan, before stomping off down the hall.

The three of them watched him leave, before Gunnar said, "And as the drama queen made his exit, the others laughed at his retreating figure."

Both Nikolas and Draco smirked. Gunnar glanced at his timetable. "Looks like I've got DA with the histrionic wonder. I'll see you guys around."

Gunnar turned smoothly on his heel, his robes swirling around his feet and began to walk in the same direction as Ivan. Draco looked down at his timetable.

"I.M?" He looked back at Nikolas, questioningly.

"You've got Illusionary Magic too?" said Nikolas. "This way then."

Draco followed Nikolas, who led him into a small dark classroom on the first floor. There were a few other people already there, sitting at desks. Draco and Nikolas took a seat at a desk a few rows back from the front.

They hadn't been there long, when Elisabet walked in.

"Hey Breuning," said Nikolas as she took a seat at the desk adjacent to them.

She tilted her head towards them, nonchalantly saying, "Zdrasti."

"So you managed to make it into this class hmm? If I recall, you didn't do so well on your O.W.L's last year. Mainly E's and only a couple of O's wasn't it?"

Elisabet's face remained blank as she organised her books, not looking at either of them.

"Make a point, Nikolas."

"Well it's a pretty hard class, do you think you'll be able to cope?" asked Nikolas, rather bluntly. It was obvious to Draco that Nikolas wasn't asking out of concern for Elisabet, since there was the smallest hint of a smirk on his face. Draco wasn't exactly sure what they were going to learn in this class, but he knew for a fact that all the subjects on his timetable were very demanding and one had to be fairly capable with magic to cope. Elisabet casually turned her head towards Nikolas, and stared at him. There was nothing particularly malicious or nasty about it, but there was something about the way her eyes looked, expressing a quiet composed authority. It made Nikolas uncomfortable at least, and he quickly turned away and looked to the front of the class. Elisabet shifted her head, glancing towards Draco. Their eyes met for a second, before her light blonde hair slipped across her face as she turned back to the front of the class.

Suddenly the classroom door forcefully slammed shut by itself, causing most people in the class to jump in their seats.

 "Now that I have your attention."

Several heads whipped to the front of the class, where a man had suddenly appeared. He was wearing a long dark black robe, the bottom of which flowed across the stone floor. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his dark blue eyes surveyed the classroom, out from underneath a hood that, otherwise, concealed most of his face.

"My name is Professor Marconi. I suggest you learn it quickly, and spell it correctly." The man spoke in a low, quiet tone; quiet like knives were quiet. "Illusionary Magic. An Illusion, like irony, is when something differs from what it actually is."

A boy in the back raised his hand, "Sir, I don't understand. Wizards use Illusionary Magic all the time. Why is this classified as a DA class?"

The man was silent for a moment, before saying, "To create an illusion… is to create a deception. It can be considered bad or good, depending on your perspective."

He paused for a moment, to pull back his hood. He had a very hard, bony face and his stark white hair fell just past his cheekbones.

"Illusionary magic is one of the hardest and most complex forms of magic there is. To stay in this class, you will have to work VERY hard. There will be no second chances for any slackers."

 He paused, and glared at the class. 'Question Boy' sank slightly lower into his seat.

"For those of you who do keep up…" he looked over at where Draco, Nikolas and Elisabet were, "I'm sure you will find Illusionary Magic to be invaluable. In time, you will be able to create and conceal your own reality."

Professor Marconi whipped his head back to glare at 'Question Boy.'

"You, however, can get out of my class."

"What?!" gasped 'Question Boy.'

Professor Marconi walked back to his desk, "I will not waste my time bothering on useless causes. Leave." He spoke to him with his back turned, not even bothering to look at him. Question Boy sat there for a moment, before he sheepishly gathered his things and made his way out of the classroom. Draco smirked. He liked this class already.

       "We've got a few hours to go until dinner," said Nikolas, as the three of them walked out of the IM classroom and into the corridor. There weren't that many students at Durmstrang, so the hallways of the castle were always quite empty. There were only a handful of other people around as Draco, Elisabet and Nikolas continued on their way. "Let's just go back to the dorms," suggested Nikolas, "I can't be bothered doing anything else…"

"Hi Nikolas."

Draco glanced over his shoulder to look at whoever had interrupted, and saw a couple of girls standing behind him. He recognised the brunette with the highlights as the girl from the ship yesterday. The one who was smiling at him demurely. She was doing it again, in fact. She looked down and slowly tucked a strand of hair out of her face, before meeting his eyes again.

"Hi Draco."

He inclined his head a bit, glancing at Elisabet and Nikolas. Nikolas was partially smiling, nervously tapping one foot, while Elisabet was nonchalantly staring off in another direction, obviously disinterested in the conversation that was taking place.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced," said the girl.

Draco turned back to look at her to see she was still smiling politely at him.

"I'm Monika. We have Dark Arts together."

"Oh, I hadn't noticed," said Draco, indifferently. Nikolas cleared his throat. Monika blushed, before her smile returned.

"Oh, well… I am. It is a big class… and..."

"Draco."     

Draco turned and looked at Elisabet, who was now standing right beside him. Elisabet's eyes flicked toward Monika for a second, before she turned back to Draco. 

"Let's go."

Draco was more than content to oblige. Abruptly turning on his heel, he began to follow Elisabet and Nikolas as they walked down the hall.

 "Um… I'll see you around, Draco!" called out Monika. Draco didn't reply.

       Silence fell between the three of them as they walked down the corridor to the glass link that stretched between the boy's dormitories and the castle. Nobody said anything as they reached the entrance to the first level of the boys' dorms. A first year began to yell at them for passing through where they didn't belong, before all three glared at him, effectively shutting him up. Elisabet continued to lead the way up the stairs to the 6th year level, making Draco wonder how familiar with the boys' dorms she was.  

As the three of them approached the main entrance to the 6th year level, Nikolas said, "She's not that bad. Once you get to know her."

 "Nikolas," said Elisabet, softly, "Forget her. For your sake."

She nodded towards the door, gesturing at Nikolas. Grudgingly, Nikolas stepped up to the door and uttered the password.

"Ad gloriam."

Slowly the door swung open and Elisabet stepped inside, with Draco and Nikolas following.

       The common room was fairly small, since it was for 6th year boys only. A few of them were sitting in the room now, including Gunnar and Damek. They were talking quietly between themselves, sitting in the large chairs that were placed around a central pillar in the room, where a bright blue flame sitting on top was emanating heat. The three of them moved to sit down and as Elisabet was about to take a seat, one of the other boys in the common room said,

"What's she doing here?"

Elisabet glanced at him before taking the empty seat next to Gunnar, apathetic towards the boy. Gunnar straightened up in his chair and looked straight at the boy. "Are you going to kick her out?"

The boy's eyes scanned over the five faces that were resolutely staring back at him. Eventually, he shrank away and went back to his own business. 

"Where's Ivan?" asked Nikolas, as he looked around the room. Damek laughed.

 "He just got a letter… from his father." Nikolas made a face, before grinning.

"Guess we won't be seeing him for a while. All that sulking and father-cursing IS rather time consuming."

As Gunnar and Nikolas snickered, Draco couldn't help but feel some sympathy for Ivan. Letters from his own father Lucius had the incredible ability to cause major mood swings, sending Draco to 'Bittersville' faster than Floo powder.

"Still, better him than myself," thought Draco, as he joined in with the rest of them laughing at Ivan.

       Dinner at Durmstrang came and passed quickly and soon Draco was back in his room, sitting at his desk and sneering at the memory of that … Monika, who had desperately tried to get him to sit next to her during Dinner. Shaking his head, he pulled out a piece of parchment, before dipping his quill in ink. Placing the tip of his quill on the parchment, he began to write…

"Pansy,

It has been a while. First things first, my transfer to Durmstrang came as a surprise to me as well. Thankfully however, it is much more agreeable than Hogwarts and there are many others who come from proper pureblood wizarding families. It's unfortunate, however that you can't be here. But there's no need for the dramatics Pansy. It's only a couple of years. I'm sure you can handle that. And if you can't I shall be very disappointed in you. Calm down. Everything will work out the way it's supposed to.

Trust me.

Draco."

N.B More build-up. This chapter might change because I'm not sure I'm completely satisfied with it. *Sigh* Just when you start to think you're reaching the top, you're still climbing the mountain. Maybe something dramatic will happen in the next chapter? You'll have to find out.