'Missing' Hermione repeated flatly. The corner of Lady Grindelwald's mouth quirked slightly at the young witch's tone despite the terrible situation.

'Correct, the school believes that Gellert has run away, along with Mr. Tunninger. He has taken his mount, but nothing else. Mr. Tunninger's hippogriff is apparently still stabled.' Lady Grindelwald held out the scroll that had interrupted their lesson and the young witch flicked it open with a movement as sharp as her building temper.

'This isn't right, Gellert wouldn't run away and Berg loves his hippogriff; its a nasty tempered beast but he insists on riding it.' She fell silent as she read further down the letter, her disbelief and outrage growing with every line. 'Three days?' She finally hissed, livid.

'Yes.' Lady Grindelwald pursed her lips. 'It took them three days to notify me that my son and heir has gone missing.'

To anyone else, Lady Grindelwald would have looked unconcerned but Hermione knew her well. The matriarch's eyes flashed with fury, her nails tapped the arm of her carved chair in agitation and her magic broiled with fear.

'Finding him is of immediate priority.' The lady announced and Hermione jumped up quickly, he want already ready in her hand.

'I'm coming with you.' She declared, a determined fire in her eyes to match that of her matriarch. The older woman regarded her with pride, standing and gliding around the desk to lay a deceptively delicate hand on her shoulder.

'I admire your courage, but I need you to fulfil other duties whilst I am occupied. The interests of the family and coven must still be seen to; Durmstrang has greatly slighted us by failing to care for the family heir and arrangements still need to be made for Samhain, which draws ever closer.' Hermione dithered for a moment, torn between her need to find Gellert and her loyalty to the family. The matriarch knelt do that their heads were at the same level, her silken skirts pooling around her.

'Hermione, you are the second heir. I cannot search for him if you will not take on the responsibilities that your position entails.'

Hermione swallowed before straightening and nodding in acceptance.

'I will go to Durmstrang and seek an apology, then I will request assistance from Anneken in organising the Samhain ritual. I will not let the family down.' She vowed, curtsying formally. Lady Grindelwald was a powerful witch, Hermione reminded herself. She would find Gellert and Hermione would do whatever she could to help; if the more experienced witch needed her to hold down the fort here, then that is what she would do. Lady Grindelwald smiled proudly, slipping one of the rings off her finger and passing it to Hermione.

'This is the family seal, I know that this is a lot of responsibility but I know that you will do me proud.' Lady Grindelwald stood in a rustle of silk, making her way back around the desk. 'Now, this is the guest list for Samhain, you'll find matters of business and finance in this cabinet, the elves will deliver reports into this tray here, business letters to this one and personal correspondence will be left here. I would suggest you draw on a little of that fire to deal with the Durmstrang headmaster - remember that you are the locum matriarch of the family and he should respect you as such.'

The advice that Lady Grindelwald rattled off over the next half an hour left Hermione reeling but no less determined. The family seal felt heavy on her fingers, and metaphorically ill-fitting, despite having magically resized the moment it slipped onto her finger.

'Should you need to raise the wards, the elves will talk you through it. Do not hesitate to send one to me for assistance if you require it.'

Then Hermione was alone in the huge, echoing halls of the castle. It seemed darker and colder now that she was alone, and every doorway suddenly seemed to hide a dark wizard about to snatch her away. An owl screeched in the grounds and an elf dropped something in the kitchens, the noises carrying far further than they usually did now that she was alone and hyper aware of them.

She took a deep breath and summoned Flighty. The elf appeared with a pop, Klein - the head elf, appearing at her shoulder like a shadow. Both elves bowed until their noses brushed the marble floor, then straightened, waiting expectantly for her orders. Another pang of loneliness surged through her but it was steeled by determination to do her best.

'Flighty, I need my battle dress and fur cloak, hat and gloves. Klein, can you see to it that someone has Katana saddled in full dress. I am going to Durmstrang, and I need to make an impression.'

'It would be our honour, Missy Hermione. Klein has the perfect cloak in mind, Missy Hermione. Might Klein fetch Missy Hermione's cloak and dress whilst Flighty gets Katana ready.' Klein bowed again, and Hermione nodded in agreement. She fully trusted the experienced head elf to attend her appearance. In the meantime, she turned to the desk and rummage through the various sheets of parchment that had been left out for her until she found the instructions for opening the portal. She perused it as Klein arranged her hair, surmising that the process was simple enough.

'Missy is ready.' Klein announced, stepping back and snapping his fingers. A tall mirror appeared in front of her and Hermione took in her appearance with some surprise. She had been right to trust the head elf; her hair was tightly braided into a long tail down her back and her lapis comb secured a delicate chain circlet around her forehead. She'd been dressed in the black duelling robes that had been given to her over summer, but with a thick navy underdress, trimmed with fur to keep her warm. She was handed a set of matching blue leather gloves to wear under the gauntlets and she pulled them on as she strode down to the courtyard, Klein trailing behind her with a thick bundle of fur in his arms.

'Missy mustn't forget her cloak, or her portal instructions. Klein also brings the letter for Missy, so that she may prove to the headmaster how remiss he was in his duty.' She took the two pieces of parchment from the elf, tucking them into the chest plate of the robes after a moment of consideration - as cool as the outfit was, it didn't have any pockets. They paused in the courtyard so that the elf could arrange the fur cloak around her shoulders. It was stormy grey and white, made of fluffy fur with the upper jaw of the fenrir it had come from acting as the hood. Once she'd been assured the fenrir had died of old age ('look Missy, the fur is grey. Young Fenrirs is black.'), she really liked it. Mounted on Katana, she felt like Eowyn from Lord of the Rings, riding out to battle.

The portal opened exactly as it was meant to on the first try and she rode through it with false confidence.

They emerged into a winter wonderland. The afternoon sunlight glistened on freshly fallen snow, marred only by the deep gouges where a beast had recently taken flight. Rainbows refracted off icicles that hung from deep green pines. A dramatic peak soared up ahead of her, dark cliffs and pure snow clear against a pale blue sky. Katana stirred, his head shooting up as he eyeballed the tree line and she patted his smooth neck to soothe him, then to her surprise he let out one of his draconian screeches, rib cage swelling beneath her with the sound. It echoed back and forth around them, jumping off the mountains and, Hermione thought, summarily announcing to everyone that they were there.

To her surprise, a very familiar screeching whinny replied, not from somewhere along the track ahead, but instead from somewhere in the trees to her left.

'Wait here.' She ordered Katana, swinging smoothly from his tall back and landing in the deep snow with a crunch. She was very glad for the soft, knee high boots that came with the duelling outfit as she tramped through the deep snow around the portal, stumbled over a barrow and finally reached the relatively clear ground beneath the pines.

There, looking more miserable than she'd ever seen him was Kelpie. He was huddled beneath a tree, head hung low and crusty ice formed over his naturally slick coat. He watched her approach dolefully, and snuffled around her for treats when she ran her hands over his neck and legs, searching for any injury. He seemed fine, other than being cold and hungry, and she gathered up the dangling reins, leading the beast back to where Katana waited.

The two beasts exchanged a conversation of squarks, nickers and throaty purrs as Hermione negotiated remounting her tall horse, with the assistance of a conveniently steep barrow.

With flying now out of the question, she made her way along the obvious track through the trees. Katana slipped and skidded on the hard ground beneath the snow, whilst Kelpie trod with weary, practiced steps that suggested the beast had spent considerable time traversing the frozen grounds.

They emerged from the forest and out onto a windswept ridge which sent the heavy fur cloak around her shoulders stirring and Katana's gossamer mane swirling around his antlers. They drew lots of attention from the crimson dressed students they passed, eventually gaining a bit of an entourage as curious children followed them up towards a squat castle nestled at the base of the castle.

There were a huge variety of students already gathered in the courtyard when she arrived, standing behind a tall, white haired man in blood red robes. He was obviously the headmaster, as his white fur cloak was emblazoned with a Durmstrang crest over his heart and several other facultative members stood at his shoulders. A murder of different languages swept over the courtyard as she pulled Katana to a stop, Kelpie stopping a moment later.

There was silence.

'Forgive me, I don't believe we've been introduced.' The headmaster finally said. Hermione raised her chin haughtily, glad for Katana's height which allowed her too look down on the man.

'Hermione, Locum Matriarch of House Grindelwald.' She announced, presenting her hand, heavy with the Grindelwald seal. The headmaster's eyes widened slightly, but he bowed over her hand and brushed the seal with his lips never-the-less. A murmur swept through the assembled audience.

'To what do we owe the honour?'

'Two of your students are missing, one of whom is Gellert Grindelwald, heir to the ancient house of Grindelwald. Yet, my family was only notified of this today.' She declared coolly.

'I assure you, we are doing our utmost to find them both.'

'Your utmost... pathetic. I found his mount, abandoned by the portal within five minutes of my arrival. You claim to have searched for three days without having found as much.' The headmaster's eyes widened as she flicked her hand casually towards Kelpie.

'The portal?' He stuttered, 'We didn't think...'

'No, you did not think.' She interrupted coldly, 'You did not think to check near the portal, you did not think to notify us when our family heir disappeared until three days had already passed, you did not think. You are lucky I do not have you removed for incompetence and endangerment.'

One of the witches behind him stepped forwards, placing a hand on the headmaster's shoulder.

'Perhaps, Ernest, we should take Miss Grindelwald through what we do know.' She suggested gently. Then she turned to the students behind her, singling out a student about Gellert's age. 'Mister Malken, please show Miss Grindelwald to the stables so that she can settle her beast, then bring her up to the headmaster's office. Everyone else, please return to your classes.'

Malken stepped forwards as everyone else stepped back, loud chatter swelling across the courtyard as students streamed back out to the grounds or through a small set of double doors. He was a well built boy, blond haired, blue eyed and with soft, smooth skin. Bundled up in his furs, he bore quite a resemblance to a dark, oversized snidget. He beckoned her through a large set of double doors and and she rode after him into the homey warmth of a massive stable. Corridor after corridor of beasts branched off from the main one but Malken took her to one with a familiar pond conjured in the middle of it. She settled Kelpie, taking extra time to rub him down with lukewarm water whilst Malken huffed and shifted impatiently outside. When she eventually swept out of the stables, Malken managed to stomp sulkily the whole way up the dark, compact castle to the headmaster's office.

The witch and the headmaster were already waiting behind the desk, tea and cakes arranged on delicate little plates. Both of them stood and bowed her in, issuing strict instructions for her guide to return to his lessons. She took her time removing her gloves and cloak, laying them on the chair before finally taking a seat.

'We found this note on your brother's bed, and this one on Mr. Tunninger's. His sister confirmed that this is Mr. Tunninger's handwriting.'

Hermione glanced at the letter, scanning the unrecognisable writing as it listed complaint in a whining tone and declared that Gellert was going to run away. It didn't sound like Gellert nor was it written even remotely in his hand. The letters curled far too much and the pen was too light; Gellert's writing was firm and confident, the elaborate, angular gothic script nothing like the pale curving lines of this writing.

'This is nothing like Gellert's handwriting. Was this ever compared to an essay?' She demanded. The two teachers shared an awkward look. Hermione assumed it hadn't been.

'We will take you to his dormitory, perhaps you can find more there.' The witch said, standing. Hermione nodded, doing the same.

'Very well. Headmaster, I will of course be writing to the board to discuss your performance. I suggest in the meantime you invest considerably more effort into the safety of your students; it would not reflect well on you if another coven son went missing under your watch.' She swing her cloak back around her shoulders and strode out of the room after the witch. The heavy door to the headmaster's office slammed behind her with a deep boom.

Hermione trailed the teacher through the gloomy, torchlit corridors of the castle. There was very little softness of luxury in this castle, in fact she wouldn't even have described it as spectacular or impressive. They didn't pass a single window as they travelled, just hundreds of flaming torches in brackets and thick, heavy doors of dark wood. There were no carpets, no tapestries, statues or suits of armour, just bare stone walls and floor, worn smooth by centuries of students.

They quickly reached a spiral staircase where Hermione finally saw her first window. It was small and slit shaped, recessed into the meter thick stone wall and with no windows. Freezing air blasted through the small space and chilling her instantly. Vaguely, Hermione recognised that it was still mid October and that the castle would still get much colder; perhaps the lack of windows made sense, but she saw no reason to not have tapestries and carpets.

The teacher that led her stopped at an otherwise unremarkable door and knocked firmly. There was a scuffling from inside, then the door swung open to reveal a skinny boy with mousy hair in the plain brown of the uniform undershirt. The boys were all standing smartly at the ends of their beds, chins up and feet together like little soldiers awaiting inspection. The witch that had led her to the room strode in, ignoring all the boys and the considerable smell wafting from a pair of boots that sat in a lonely pile in the middle of the room. Hermione strolled after her, doing her best to project casual confidence.

Gellert's bed was made, but the covers were quite rumpled as though it had been done in a rush. His owl was perched next to the bed and it hooted in welcome to Hermione. She scratched it idly, surveying the rest of Gellert's belongings. His clothes were all folded on the shelves and it didn't look as though a single item of casual clothing was gone but a full set of the brown shirt and trousers of his casual uniform as well as his cloak was missing. So he must have been dressed when he went missing. Hermione's eyes drifted to the boy still standing to attention at the bed next to Gellert's. It was the boy that Gellert had brought to harvest with them.

'Do you remember seeing Gellert on Sunday morning?' Hermione asked quietly, but her voice carried through the silent room.

'No, mi'lady. He was gone before we woke up.' The boy replied sharply.

'Was there a letter on his bed when you woke up?' She asked, casually inspecting the quill on Gellert's bedside table.

'No.' The boy replied, seeming puzzled. 'But there was one there when I got back after dinner.' He added brightly. Hermione sighed and thanked him. Then, hyper conscious of everyone watching her, she decided to sit down and try and feel for any more information with her magic. It took longer than usual to make the connection to the familiar pool within her because the boys kept shifting and distracting her, but eventually she managed. She prodded the family magic, hoping that it might be interested enough to wake up and guide her like it had every other time. It stayed stubbornly silent, so she drew up her own magic and sent it into Gellert's bed and grasped at anything she could get ahold of. She opened her eyes, watching the bed covers begin to shimmer. Then a silvery mist seemed to rise up out of the fabric, convalescing into a golf ball sized orb.

'A flask.' She demanded, deciding the mist looked an awful lot like a memory. She'd have to take it home to view in the pensieve. The boy in the next door bed scrambled to fetch one for her, thrusting it into her hand with reverent awe in his gaze. She scooped up the mist and corked the vial quickly.

'If anyone remembers any details, address your owl to Hermione.' She instructed the boys in the room, then turned to the witch who'd showed her in who was now looking at her with surprise. 'I have everything I can get, please show me to the stables and I will take my leave.'

She left a silent room behind her as she was led through the castle and down to the stables. She mounted Katana and rode out of the school, the memory clutched securely in her hand.