The call came during dinner; a voice ringing through the halls under the unmistakable influence of the sonorous charm. It instructed them to return to their dormitories and await inspection.

For a moment there was silence, then a roar of movement as everyone got up from the benches and hurried to the door. All around him, classmates demanded to know what was going on and why they were having an inspection so late at night - and mid way through dinner, no less.

One wouldn't know that they had moved towers in the castle over summer if it weren't for the slightly different view outside the slitted window. Glancing through as he was swept past he could see the fifth year tower across the way; those students were hurrying upstairs for an inspection as well. No, this most certainly was not a normal inspection.

He spilled into their dormitory along with the other third floor boys and he quickly made his way to his bed and straightened his covers, tucked a couple of sheets of warding research into his desk drawer and stood the quills up straight in their little vase. Deeming his space ready, he flicked his wand to help Berg put all of his books on their relevant piles in his trunk then took his spot at the foot of his bed.

He was one of the first ready - Krum, who had been his neighbour before Berg swapped with him was always very messy and he was frantically waving his wand in an attempt to force all of his belongings into the already overfilled trunk. Gellert watched him struggle, privately thinking that the boy could do with the mandated exercise used as punishment for failing inspections.

Then, they waited.

And waited

Finally, there was a sound. Footsteps drummed up the staircase, heavy and solid and belonging to at least five adults. The sound was ominously like the marching in his visions of the muggle soldiers.

'Russians.' Whispered one of the boys with a view out of the door from his bed.

His words were met by murmurs of consternation as the boys received confirmation that this was not an inspection. Rather, Gellert was inclined to think it was a convenient way to keep them all out of the way whilst the Russians did whatever they needed to do.

'Russians are terrifying.' Jori Mustonen muttered, craning his neck to see through the crack in the door. 'It's the Baba Yaga's guards.'

'Can you see what's going on?' His brother demanded, not daring to leave his own bed.

'No, but he's right. They're wearing the bearskins.'

They snapped back to silent attention as a trill of female voices passed their door, followed by the same marching feet, descending this time.

'The Baba Yaga have called their children home.' He drawled. 'There's a threat in Russia.'

Immediately, several voices called out in disbelief and more than one pale face demanded why they were being allowed to leave Durmstrang when it was one of the safest places in the world.

'They are leaving because Durmstrang is no longer safe.' Berg realised. 'The Grindelwald coven has almost lost their heir twice whilst at school.'

'Yeah, and the headmaster's a coward.' Another boy jeered from across the room. 'He's petrified of that sister of yours.'

This was greeted by a round of nervous laughter, and Gellert couldn't help but smile.

'How come you don't know what's going on?' One of the boys demanded and Gellert's smile melted into a scowl.

'I imagine my mother is busy trying to organise her own response - difficult, considering a certain group destroyed the warding on Germany's previous haven.' He glanced over at the two openly progressionist boys on the opposite side of the room pointedly.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by their awkward shuffling as they were forced to wait for an inspection that probably wasn't coming.

An owl arrived just as the moon rose but he couldn't feed the bird until they were finally dismissed from their attention at half past nine that evening. Whilst every other boy groaned in relief and flopped onto their beds, Gellert exchanged a handful of owl treats for the letter. Every expectant eye was glued to him as he sat on his covers and broke open Hermione's seal. The letter was short and rushed - whatever was happening, Hermione was involved.

Dear Gellert,

There's pestilences in Russia. A dark wizard seems to be the cause. He's threatened the Baba Yaga (I still don't get why we give them a singular name when there's three of them!) because he wants the ban on Necromancy lifted - as if raising an army of pestilences would persuade them to do that?

There's been no threats made against Germany yet, but stay safe and take care anyway.

Hermione.

What he didn't understand was why on earth Hermione knew that before he did... unless she wasn't at school? Had his mother pulled her back, deeming Hogwarts even less safe than Durmstrang? She had a dark wizard possess a teacher last year and almost killed herself exorcising him. It had left him edgy, and he was certain that it would have done the same to his mother.

'Was that Hermione?' Berg demanded, perhaps recognising the handwriting.

'Yes. She's at home for some reason.' He passed the letter to Berg and shuffled up the bed until he could reach a parchment and quill from his desk. As Berg announced the situation in Russia to the entire room, Gellert penned a quick reply to Hermione asking where she was.

'Pestilences?' One of the boys across the room demanded. 'Isn't that what you get after a Foul has possessed someone?'

There was a collective mutter of uncertain confirmation; that sounded right but nobody wanted to be the one to guarantee it.

'So, where did this new dark wizard get the Foul?' The boy continued, speaking loudly enough that Gellert knew the boy was trying to rile him up. Unfortunately, it was working - Gellert knew exactly where Fouls came from, and there had been some on this side only days ago at Samhain.

'Oh yeah, from your Hallowe'en ritual!' The boy had stood up now and Gellert could see that it was Jakub Nowak, the Polish Minister for Magic's son and one the biggest pains in his year group. Gellert tried to ignore him but already a muttering was sweeping through the usually neutral boys.

'The Samhain ritual is performed in a specially constructed ritual circle. No mere Foul would have been able to break free.' Berg scoffed.

'Unless it was invited?' Nowak goaded, swaggering around the central column so that he was firmly in traditionalist territory.

'You know an awful lot about how to do it, for someone who's never done a Samhain ritual.' Krum pointed out, shifting nervously at having interceded in this brewing conflict. His words were powerful, and immediately the mutterings turned against Nowak and his friends. Gellert took back all the mean thoughts he'd had about the rotund boy earlier.

'You know, there's ways to open the veil without Samhain.' Berg added thoughtfully. 'Necromancers do it - but it's very dangerous, which is why it is forbidden.'

'The Baba Yaga will take care of it.' Gellert insisted. 'The Guards are the best fighting force in the country.'