The end of the summer came quickly and before he knew it he was saddling Kelpie with his trunk packed and shrunken in his pocket. Hermione helped him, tears already shining in her eyes despite her valiant attempts to hide them.

'I'm going to miss you, Gellert.' She told him as she brushed his mount's mane smooth. She was planning to ride with him to the portal and Longma already stood saddled. His mother too had one of her Granians ready and she tapped her shoe against the cobbles meaningfully. Obediently the two children scrambled onto their mounts.

He felt rather impressive, if a little too warm in his brand new uniform. His cloak hung heavy over his left arm and his staff was slotted into the special holster on Kelpie's saddle. His new wand was holstered on the belt with it's Durmstrang logo gleaming in the summer sunlight. It was late afternoon, and the air rippled with warmth. Their mounts hooves clopped against the baked soil as they trotted down the to the back gate and the track that led up to the portal.

The journey was pleasant. Kelpie didn't much like the heat and the cooling charms on his harness helped to keep Gellert cool too. Hermione wore a very light dress and a wide straw hat and she looked very pretty, her cheeks flushed with warmth. She was tanned, much to his mother's consternation, but she carried the colour well and was never burned. His own skin was slightly darker that was entirely proper because Hermione had really taken to gardening with the elves and he felt obliged to supervise and attempt to avert the inevitable disaster. If she really was fey, she definitely disproved the rumours of their affinity with nature; her ability to create carnage from simple situations was unrivalled.

A hinderbeast watched them pass, his massive maw sticky with honey. He shook his head sharply to shake off the bees that tried to rescue the fruits of their labour and grunted at them warningly when the track took them too close to him. Hermione's Longma rumbled deep within its chest and Hermione soothed him gently.

He couldn't wait to get to school, but he was a little disappointed to see that he wouldn't be learning much this year. He had read through all his set books from cover to cover before school had started. There were a couple of new spells but none of them were particularly difficult, Hermione could perform all the charms wandlessly and wordlessly, although she hadn't yet committed all the incantations to memory. He had found the transfigurations easy, so long as he had used the incantation. With his new wand and the magic words, he hardly needed to focus or even direct his magic at all. It was all too easy.

Ancient Magic was fascinating though and he couldn't wait to learn it. They had spent hours inside the ring of stones, studying the ancient spells that made the portal system work and unsuccessfully trying to figure out what 'the unknown factor' that was mentioned in the book was. It was a fascinating concept; that they had somehow lost some process that made all these ancient magics work.

They reached the portal quickly, lost in thought as he was. Hermione was definitely crying now and even his mother looked slightly emotional as she looked down at him from her mount's back.

'You'll do great, Gellert.' Hermione told him tremulously, sniffing slightly.

'Yeah, you keep studying.' Gellert added, feeling slightly awkward as his mother opened the portal.

'Owl me?' Asked Hermione.

'Of course.'

The portal opened with a hum, buzzing a touch louder than the bees.

'Do us proud, Gellert.' His mother said firmly. He nodded and before he could do anything embarrassing, urged Kelpie through the silvery gate to the world beyond.

One minute he was in the balmy sunlight of his home, the next he was being battered by a howling gale and lashed by torrential rain. He squinted his eyes, pulling his new cloak around his shoulders and tried to see more of where he had appeared.

He was in another ring of stones, but these stones were dwarfed by massive pines. The ground was muddy and Kelpie struggled to wade his way out of the ring. A ghostly animal, some kind of cat hovered at eye-level. As he approached it whipped away, trotting until it was almost out of eyesight. He followed quickly and almost toppled from Kelpie's back as they emerged from the shelter of the trees and he was buffeted for the side. He hunched lower until his collar shielded his face and tried to see where the little animal had gone. Eventually he spotted it, further away from the trees again. He was at the top of a long ridge, he could see it stretching out before him and he could see the ground falling away to the left. He couldn't look to the right, the rain dug painfully into his expose skin on that side and he was forced to shut his right eye.

He was glad when he finally reached the castle. He almost didn't notice it, the windows were all small and barely let out any light. The building was squat and dark, nothing like Blau Berg and there were no impressive walls or towering gates. The spirit that had been leading him melted away and a moment later a squeaky voice greeted him from somewhere near his ankles, only audible because the bulk of the castle was blocking the worst of the wind. He glanced down and saw an elf bundled up in what looked like an old quilt.

'I is taking your beast.' The elf repeated firmly. Gellert nodded, swinging off his mount and landing with a squelch in deep mud that had been stirred up by many hooves. He could see the door - an archway of light in the rain. As he got closer he could see the walls were made of rough hewn dark stone, huge slabs bigger than he was tall. He made his way up the short flight of stairs quickly, keen to get out of the rain and passed through a very thick set of doors. Again they weren't large or impressive and the hall beyond wasn't either. Instead, it seemed sturdy and solid which was reassuring against the howling gale outside. He wondered, if this was summer weather, what was winter like.

'First year?' A woman asked, her Bulgarian accent heavy. She was tall, silver hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. She waved her wand over him, magically drying his sodden clothes and he smoothed his hair back into order.

'Yes Ma'am.' He replied. She smiled and welcomed him to the school, took his trunk, then directed him down the hall and to the first room on the left. He followed her directions, passing beneath flaming torches and taking the specified door.

A whispering greeted him when he entered the room. Nervous children stood in huddles around the room, sharing glances and shyly chatting with their friends. It was quiet; nobody was quite confident enough to draw attention to themselves yet. There was a massive variety of students, all speaking different languages. He recognised a lot of them but only spoke a few, and those he only spoke a little. Hermione had picked up German incredibly quickly, and the more German she had learned, the less they spoke English. His other languages were not even that fortunate - Bulgarian, Russian and Swedish were the ones he recognised.

He spotted Berg waving frantically in the corner of the room. He stood next to Petrovna who was chattering to a pair of boys in Russian. He was reasonably certain they were children of the Russian coven and that he'd seen them before at some event.

'Petrovna, Berg.' He greeted solemnly, and his two friends returned the greeting. He was introduced to the two Russian boys and his suspicion was confirmed. They were indeed children of the Russian coven, and they were introduced as Petar and Aleksandr. They nodded at his name, then went back to chattering in Russian as Gellert listened, attempting to catch at least some of the conversation.

The Hawdon twins were the next to arrive and he greeted them with a nod. They weren't close, their family had never had quite the same traditional beliefs as Gellert's despite being an old family. They seemed to have more in common with the British families than the Europeans. He suspected they even subscribed to that funny pureblood doctrine. They certainly never seemed to broaden their bloodlines.

Mareike came much later, her thick hair escaping from its neat braids and smeared with mud. She looked incredibly annoyed.

'My Granian fell. That track is lethal.' She hissed in annoyance. Gellert agreed, he certainly wouldn't have wanted to be riding a winged mount through that weather.

'Alice says the grounds are amazing.' Berg admitted and Gellert snorted.

'They looked miserable.'

'How's Hermione?' Mareike asked.

'Back home with mother. She seems okay, she's been bribed with more lessons with my mother.'

'I still don't understand how she gets on so well with your mother, she's terrifying.' Mareike shivered. Hermione did get on very well with his mother and unequivocally hated every tutor they had ever had. With Gellert's absence, she would now be learning primarily with his mother and studying alone at other times.

'Hermione's terrifying.' Berg pointed out. 'She's crazy powerful, she's only eight isn't she?'

'Nine now.' Gellert corrected. There was silence as the three of them considered that. She really was very young. 'You should have seen what she did to Lucan's inferi; torched half the track.'

Any reply was silenced as a short, rounded wizard shot sparks into the air. The conversation died down as every eye turned to him. He was red headed and wore a set of dark duelling robes, trimmed with a crimson that clashed painfully with his hair. He had a little nose like a pinkie finger sticking out from atop a fluffy moustache.

'I am Master Holm, your head of year. Welcome to Durmstrang.' He greeted in the students. He spoke slowly so that those who were still learning German could understand him. 'If you have any worries, please come to me.' He paused, looking around them in a way that suggested anyone that disturbed him with problems would find them rapidly multiplying.

'I will now show you to your tower. Please follow me.'

They all followed him in a huddle, stringing out slightly as they bottlenecked through the doorway. They went out into the corridor and followed it to a T-junction. They took the right turn, then found themselves at the beginning of a gently spiralling staircase going upwards to the left, downwards to the right and a heavy door in front.

'In there is the first year common room, down on the right are the classrooms. Please follow me to the dormitories.' The followed him up the spiral stairs upwards, but only went up one floor before they reached a short landing with another doorway. This room was assigned to a group of just over twenty boys and they were left to find their own way inside as the rest of them went up another floor. This was a girl's dormitory, and seventeen girls, including Mareike and Petrovna were assigned this room.

Gellert was put on the third floor with the rest of the boys and he entered the room curiously. It was windowless, lit by flaming torches. There was a central column in the middle of the room, a door leading into it, and one of the other boys loudly declared that it was the bathroom after peering through the door. Four poster beds ringed both the outside wall and the bathroom wall, sticking out at the foot like teeth. The hangings were all red, and the sheets and blankets were brown and looked coarse but warm.

Gellert's bed was all the way around the room. His owl was already waiting, perched on a stand and his trunk had been enlarged at the foot of the bed. Berg was two bunks down, and the boy next to him was called Hugo Olofsson, which was a name he didn't recognise and by the state of his battered trunk, not one he really needed to. Berg was several beds away and he had one of the Hawdons next to him. Berg waved, already unpacking his trunk into the shelves.

He tapped his wand against the lock of his own trunk and began unpacking it as well, putting books and parchment on the shelves and hanging his cloak and jackets on the hooks.

Hugo appeared and did the same next to him. He was a small boy, his uniform clearly second hand with the exception of his cloak, which was crisp and new. His brown hair was exactly the same colour as his uniform and his eyes eyebrows were unusually thick and heavy.

His other side had Hugo's polar opposite. Viktor Krum, who was big and burly, perhaps a little over fed. His belongings were as new as Gellert's, and he was already flinging them unfolded onto the shelves.

He had only managed to unpack half his trunk when Master Holm reappeared, a gaggle of girls at his back and bellowed at them to follow him. They did, and were led down to what had been introduced at the common room earlier. Again, he noticed there was no fireplace or windows. A curved wooden table ran around the outside of the room, and another wrapped the central wall.

They were curtly informed that this room was where they would take their meals, and where they could study after lessons. They were also informed in no uncertain terms that the circular central room was warded for practicing magic, and if they were not confident using a spell, it was not to be performed in the common room. Finally, Master Holm left and an elf came in, wheeling a trolley taller than it was laden with plates and cutlery. A second elf wheeled in a trolley filled with food and they all queued up (under threat of whacking with ladles for disorderly behaviour).

The food was not the extravagant meals he was used to with multiple dishes and options but when he dipped his finger into the stew it tasted wonderful and the smell was spectacular. Carefully carrying his bowl and with cutlery and bread carefully balanced in his other hand. He found one of the many three legged stools shoved under the circular table and pulled it out, then sat to enjoy his meal. Complex it may not have been but it was still fantastic and he was starving.

The elves had them put their empty plates away on the trolley and then they were left alone, with no supervision. Berg came over, pulling out a stool and sitting next to him.

'What do you think?' The boy asked, looking over to where there were a group of girls chattering in low voices.

'I'm not sure. There doesn't seem like much privacy.' Gellert frowned.

'Lessons will be good though, right?'

'Sure. I should write to Hermione, tell her what its like.'

'Why not wait until after classes tomorrow. She'd be more interested about that. You've barely seen more than the entrance hall so far.' Pointed out Berg.

'Good point. I might head up and finish unpacking now though. Who knows how early they'll have us up tomorrow.'