The tragedy in Number 4 Private Drive in Surrey sometime last night left two adults and one child killed in what can only be described as 'beastly'. This is the most gruesome case the country has seen since the Acid Bath Murders in the early '40s.
Police claim they do not have any information on the culprit at the current time, but promises that they have their best men investigating the case.
As of now, it is hard to know for sure what exactly happened, but the sheer brutality of it have some people speculate that there was some kind of wild animal or a pack of animals that were let loose.
Satanic symbols had been scribbled on the wall, and it was theorized that it was the work of some kind of a cult, possibly one with connections to a research facility, as experts claim that no known animal could probably have inflicted the kind of damage that was found on the bodies of the victims.
Rumors have it that the symbols were from popular fiction written by one 'H. P. Lovecraft', and the police are looking into fanatical fans of this, as well as checking out the rumors of an underground secret society of mad scientists and devil worshipers.
Inquiries are being made as we speak into the Lovecraftian society. Read more about this gruesome murder in the Evening Standard later today.
"Good work, son. Good work." His grandpa patted his back proudly as he passed the newspaper over to his wife.
"I knew you had it in you, kiddo!" Harry's mom gave him a quick hug before she went to fill her plate with egg and bacon.
"Well done, Harry!" Benny ruffled the hair of his favorite...er...nephew. For all that he was a house-guest that somehow never paid rent, he ended up acting more like that strange, eccentric uncle that spoiled the kids rotten, than the unemployed, lazy friend that nobody remembered ever inviting.
Harry was aglow with the warm fuzzy feelings of being loved, and of having achieved something that he could be proud of.
Approval for doing something right was something he was unfamiliar with, but now that he had tasted it, he wanted more! It felt amazingly good to receive praise, rather than punishment, for something he did. It was an addictive feeling.
"Thanks, grandpa. Mom. Benny. Derek... Derek!" He swatted away his brother's hands as Derek grabbed his head under his arm and rubbed the top of his hair with his knuckles. It didn't really hurt, but it wasn't exactly pleasant. Although the playful smile made him feel like his brother didn't mean anything bad with it.
"Now, now boys. Be nice to your brother, Derek. Don't even think about it, Harry." Sharon admonished her kids and took the lighter out of Harry's hand before he could set his brother on fire. "Remember, we're a family. And family takes care of each other!" She glared at them.
"Yes, mother..." They said in unison. At the dejected look in Harry's eyes, she melted a bit.
"Oh, alright! You can have your lighter back, but remember to only set fire to churches and missionaries next time, okay?" She said sternly as she handed him back his lighter.
"Okay! I promise! Thanks, ma. you're the best!" Harry said and grabbed his favorite lighter back. "Do you know if we have any gasoline or lighter fluid? I really wanted to set fire to the minister later!"
Time flies when you're having fun, and with Harry's new family, it flew past in a blur. Suddenly one day Harry woke up and realized it was his 6'th birthday. It felt like he had only just been saved by his amazing, new family, and yet at the same time it felt as if he had lived here forever.
To Harry, every day was a blessing from Satan.
He woke up and stretched, in what was now a rather vast room where there once was an attic.
A room filled with posters of rock and metal bands he liked, big movie posters, and posters of his idols – like LaVey and Crowley – and a whole wall filled with books and DVDs... Hell... He even had his own tv and DVD player, a large desk with his very own PC, and also a large selection of horror movies that would have made every other parent fear their child would never sleep at night.
But Harry knew, with absolute certainty, that Satan...his fantastic – and, often funny – Father, always heard his prayers, and always would protect him. But rather than hand him the solution to his problems, he gave him the tools and taught him how to handle them himself. In his opinion, that was much more valuable than getting things you wanted to drop into your lap, like his now dead, former cousin.
It was still a point of pride to him that he had stolen, threatened and manipulated people into giving him either money or the actual things surrounding him. In a way, they were trophies; Prizes he won for his skills. He'd earned them. Or, well... Many of them. His lips twitched in a smile when he thought about how his new family spoiled him rotten sometimes.
He'd always been jealous of what Dudley had; Loving parents, being spoiled rotten and get everything he wanted, good friends who stood by him... And now Harry had the same! It tasted like a triumph, and it tasted delicious!
And now, instead of spending his birthday locked up in a closet – getting a used cloth hanger, if anything at all, for a birthday present – he got a small pile of gifts from his entire, big, caring family! And instead of having nobody to love him, he now had parents, grandparents and two brothers! All he lacked was a sister, and he'd have absolutely everything!
"So what do you want for your birthday this year, Harry?" Sharon asked her oldest...and newest...son, smiling down at him.
"I want a baby sister!" Harry said with a grin. Sharon just laughed and ruffled his hair.
"Maybe someday, kid. But you know how much of a handful your brother is... Mom!" Sharon exclaimed, as she watched Damien jump at a newly killed, whole cow, and started eating it raw.
"You'll spoil his appetite!" She said to her mother with a sigh.
Harry couldn't help but snicker. His baby brother just loved raw meat.
He also screeched like a demon out of hell when his mother pulled him away from the cow and put him in his baby-cage and locked it -made necessary by his numerous escapes from the crib-, while she went to put the cow in their walk-in fridge. (Made necessary by the large animals -and occasional human-, that got killed fairly often in the house.)
"Don't worry, brother." Harry walked over and sat down by his baby brother and whispered conspiratorially to him. "I'll go cut off a nice piece of meat for you when mom isn't looking later, yeah?" He smiled when his baby brother barred a mouth full of too-sharp teeth in a grin and reached up to strangle him. Or hug him. It was hard to tell sometimes.
He couldn't speak just yet, but the whole family was expecting him to say his very first words any day now and was always trying to convince him to tell their own favorite words. Honestly, Harry placed his bet that his 'uncle' Benny would win. After all, how hard could it be to pronounce the word "Kill"?
Time had flown by much faster than he had ever anticipated, and when Harry woke up on this particularly dark and delightfully dreary morning, it was his 9'th birthday.
Harry was bouncing on his feet, trying out one combination of clothes after another.
Should he wear the black robe? Or the red one with a pentagram? Should he wear the pentagram necklace? Or the inverted cross? Or the symbol of the Church of Satan? Or the serpent? Would all of them be too much?
Harry was getting ready for his very first real satanic ritual. It was a big day for him, and it was such an essential part of being a Satanist.
His mom had decided that he had finally learned enough about Satanism and Ritual Magic to be allowed to participate, and Harry was both very excited and very nervous.
What if his dad showed up and got disappointed in him for not wearing the right stuff? LaVey always went on about how vital Appearance was, and he suddenly felt like he had absolutely nothing to wear, and that all his robes were just not good enough! He almost sobbed at the prospect.
He had only just met his dad a few times, and his dad was Satan himself. He was a super-important guy! He had a whole Kingdom to run and humans to tempt, and Harry hardly got the chance to see him, so it was crucial for him that he looked his best on such a big and formal occasion.
He remembered his aunt breaking down and running out to buy new clothes when she was invited to those rich people once, and he had wondered why she even bothered...
He suddenly understood the feeling, also if he felt it was WAY more important to impress a kinda-sorta deity that was nice and generous enough to take in a freak like HIM as a son. Oh, dear Lords of Darkness... What if he got so disappointed in him, he decided he no longer wanted him?! Harry nearly broke into tears at the thought.
"Mom! I have nothing to wear for the Ritual!" he cried out while holding one robe in each hand, trying to decide which was better, before they quickly followed everything else in his closet to the floor.
Sharon had to hide her smile behind her hand as she watched how her son fussed over every little detail for the ritual they were having. She remembered how she felt the first time she was chosen to sacrifice her virginity to Satan...
She had been so in love with him and worshipped him for such a long time... it felt like forever, even if she was only 15 at the time... And she was both nervous and happy over being chosen... She had known it would be her ever since she was 12, of course. But this was her coming-of-age ritual and all... Ah... Memories~.
"Mom!" Harry cried and broke her out of her daydreams. "Why are you smiling?! Help me! What should I wear?!" Harry cried in despair, before he blushed as his mom chuckled lightly. But Sharon moved over to look over the pile of discarded clothes and a surprisingly large collection of jewelry that was on the floor... Some of it she was sure belonged to his brother. He must have stolen them, she thought proudly.
"Don't fret kiddo. Mommy's here ta help ya." She said, smiling and hugging him lovingly. "Now let's see what we got to work with here..."
His grandfather, Stan DeVille and their Cult Leader, was standing in front of an altar, both arms raised in the air and a ritual dagger in his left hand.
(He claimed it was a blessing from Satan himself that he was lefthanded... Harry decided that with enough training, he could be left handed too! He had met with some...difficulties and made a mess, but he was convinced he could do it if he kept trying, and now refused to use anything but his left hand. Needless to say, nobody understood a word he wrote, but his mother claimed he was slowly improving.)
On the altar in front of him, there was a sheep strapped tightly to it, held down by ropes, and it was placed in the middle of a large inverted pentagram, that was pained in red paint on the ground of their back yard. (They had, at first, used the front yard, but the neighbors kept calling the cops, and it was just easier this way.)
The whole family was standing around him on the various points of the pentagram. Except for Damien, who was far too young to participate just yet.
"Hail to thee Lord Satan! You whom corrupts the human heart and bring terror to thine enemies! Show us your glory!" His grandfather started, as the High Priest of the ritual.
"Show us your Power!" Mavis continued, her hands in the same position as his.
"We pray to thee!" Sharon shouted ecstatically. A shout that was repeated by everyone in unison a second time.
"We Invoke thee!" Harry shouted, proud to have remembered his line, and a bit nervous.
"Oh, Satan, Master of Earthly Delights, Hear our calls!" Benny said with an expression that made it abundantly clear that he was currently thinking about said delights as he spoke.
"Teach us thy ways!" Benny spoke, loud and clear in his most ominous voice.
"We Summon and Stir thee!" The whole family intoned as one.
"We Invoke thee!"
"We invoke thee!"
"We invoke thee!"
"Satan, fill me!" Each of the members screamed out in unison, as Stan plunged the sacrificial knife deep into the sheep's chest with a practiced hand, killing it quickly.
Each of the family members fell back, exhausted, as they felt the power rush through them in a way they could never remember to have felt. They laughed in bliss as they felt Dark, delicious Power flood through their veins like magic.
Harry felt even more exhausted than the rest of his family. He was focused all his magic and will on the whole family getting the wonderful, Dark blessings of their Lord and Master.
In the process, combined with the ritual sacrifice of a life, he had unwittingly given his family a tiny bit of magic powers as well. Not much more than to make them similar to a squib, but it was a huge step up from being muggles.
Not that any of them knew that, of course. Especially not little Harry, who was half asleep by the time his grandfather stepped around and smeared an inverted cross in blood across the forehead of all the participants.
Sharon smiled as she was carrying her oldest son to bed after the ritual was finished. He looked so happy, and he'd remembered every line perfectly.
He looked like such a cute little devil in his new red robe, one just like the rest of the family wore, although this one had gold trimmings around the edge, to symbolize earthly gods and the sin of Greed. She was incredibly proud of him as she tucked him into bed that night and kissed him goodnight.
Ever since that ritual, the whole family felt as if they had been blessed by Satan's most unholy power... And over the next year or so, many strange and beautiful things happened to the family...
Derek had come running home one day, talking excitedly on how he'd seen a horrible abomination that looked like a scarecrow wielding a chainsaw up at the old Anderson farm.
Mavis had been swapping recipes with the ghost of a murdered housewife a few blocks down and had promised to talk to the current owners about changing that awful lime green color they kept trying to paint the sitting room in.
The neighbors were both freaked out, and more than a little grateful, to find out just why the paint they put on the wall didn't want to stay there, and never seemed to dry. And the eerie sound of crying that they usually heard from the third bedroom, had almost completely stopped after they dug up the old porcelain figurines that they had put in the attic, and placed them back onto their shelf. They were very relived they had never gotten around to throw away the stuff from the old owners.
Mrs Jones absolutely hated them, but she decided that it was worth putting up with a few old-fashioned figurines if it meant they could sleep peacefully at night again.
Sharon on the other hand, had found herself nearly swirling off the road, after seeing a strange zombie-horse with wings, of some kind, running across the street. But it was gone before she could be sure of what exactly it was.
And Benny finally found the reason why all of his shinier jewelry always went missing; A strange little creature kept nicking it when his back was turned. When he caught it and shook it, he found enough gold and silver falling out of the creature's kangaroo-like pocket, to buy the whole family a nice, long vacation in Romania.
They were all extremely excited to finally be able to hunt down Scholomance.
To think... The school that the Devil himself taught at! Oh, how much they all looked forward to that.
Harry was especially excited at that last one. He had been completely obsessed with Scholomance ever since he was 7 years old, and he'd told his parents that he really, really, really wanted to go to Scholomance when he was old enough, and learn Black Magic from the Romanian Devil himself!
It was all he ever talked about lately.
His family had indulged him, of course. They remembered when they were young and wished for the same, after all. But they weren't exactly wealthy. Mavis was a housewife, and Benny never seemed to have money to pay the rent. Nobody would hire Derek after the last disaster at the local McDonalds...
Honestly, you'd think they'd never seen a rat before, the way they were screaming. Not to mention that anyone could have dropped a few flowers into the meat-grinder and not noticed.
Derek loved his Belladonna tea after all, and it was an honest mistake to forget he was holding them while balancing a tray of burger-meat. They didn't have to call the cops on him! It wasn't as if he intentionally poisoned that group of kindergarteners.
Mavis blamed the new waitress. How could they expect their male employees to keep their head straight when they employed hot women to work the counter? Men were such simple creatures...unable to resist a woman's naturally satanic charms. She sighed.
All in all, the only people who ever brought back money was Stan and Sharon. Sharon was very grateful that her mother could watch Damien when she was at work. She shuddered to think what she would have become without her, if she'd been a single mother without a family to help, with that deadbeat of a father her beloved boys had.
She loved Satan and all, but he was terrible at taking care of his children. Always working and yet somehow never earning money to pay child support. Sharon harrumphed at the mere thought. They had just had one of their epic fights last night, but she was sure he'd come around. He always did.
But two incomes was not a whole lot of money to feed a family of 7. Especially not in these days, with the cops watching everything on CC Cams, it was nearly impossible to make an honest living as a thief anymore.
Which was, to be fair, the best career Derek could possibly hope for, Sharon thought with a sigh. Her brother was utterly hopeless sometimes.
"Woa~!" Harry looked up at what appeared to be a very well-hidden door in the side of an impressive mountain. Dark, thunderous clouds flashed down across the top, almost as if it centered around the mountain itself. The rest of his family seemed to agree with the statement, as Benny and Sharon were both flashing their cameras at it.
"I can't believe we found it..." Harry said in awe.
"I can't believe you speak Romanian," Damien replied in a drawl.
"Just because you have no ambition doesn't mean I lack it!" Harry retorted, casting a quick, irritated glance at his brother.
Honestly, he had been talking about going here ever since he was...well...since forever! Of course, he would learn Romanian! How else was he going to go to a school in Romania? Not to mention ask the locals where it was!
The locals had been surprisingly helpful. They kept warning them about this incredibly dark and evil place that nobody would go near, and how those who did so often vanished mysteriously. Or was found dead after ten years. The stories varied widely, and many of them had been passed down for generations.
It was pretty easy to figure out what area to head towards, just by observing where the locals absolutely refused to set foot, even under threats of death and dismemberment, courtesy of little Damien.
Damian, now age 6, seemed to have lost some of his more demonic features...like his tail... But his teeth were still a bit too sharp, and his grin still held a wicked edge to it. He didn't speak much, but when he spoke, all the other children ran away in fear.
The adults were more than a little creeped out by this kid, whom somehow was always dressed in impeccable clothes at all times, and his black hair combed down neatly. He looked the perfect image of a British boarding school boy... from fifty years ago...if it hadn't been for his age.
The fact that he never smiled, and his black eyes could stare down a cat, didn't help.
His mother complained about his appearance, but Damien quoted The Satanic Witch to his mother and talked about how important appearance was. She finally gave up trying to make him wear those adorable red robes with a pentagram on the chest, like he used to do when he was little.
To Sharon's despair Damien had managed to influence Harry to drop his robes as well – although that could be the influence of listening to those metal bands, he was so fond of. But she had to admit that -even though the robes were cuter- the black band t-shirts, black ripped jeans with too many spiked belts, and a leather jacket or coat, went well with the occult, satanic jewelry he was so fond of.
They'd had quite a row about the reversed cross in his ear though. She was insistent he waited until he was 13, but he wanted it now!
And even when she said no, Benny had ended up helping him, so all she could do was to sigh in defeat and ground them both for a week. Not that Benny cared, or seemed to remember that...
"Boys! No more fighting! Be nice to your brother, Harry. He's only six, and he takes after his...grandfather Lucifer. He doesn't mean anything by it," Sharon said, hands on her hips, glaring at them.
"Sorry mother." The boys intoned, hanging their heads in shame.
Harry got really frustrated with his brother sometimes, but he shouldn't be mean. Not to his brother. They were family after all, and family took care of each other.
And Damien was his younger brother. He was his responsibility, he had to remember that! It was a big brother's job to always look out for their younger siblings after all.
One day Damien would take over the world, and Harry would be right by his side to help him. He silently swore to always look after his little brother, but he'd be damned if he would ever Damien that!
The door opened slowly, and a tall man with red hair, wearing the white woolen robes of a peasant, came out. He held himself proud and tall, and had an intimidating presence and an air of superiority, and he was holding a strange tome in his hand.
"What do you want here strangers?" The man spoke in Romanian, making most of the family confused.
"Is this Scholomance?! The Devil's School?! I wanna go here, oh!" Harry switched to English. "Mom, can I go here?! Can I stay here if they take inn 10-year olds?! Please, please please?!" He begged his mother, making the cutest puppy-dog eyes a ten-year-old dressed in black leather and military boots could make. Sharon found it adorable.
"Ah. You tourist? You find school how?" The man spoke with a heavy Romanian accent.
"My grandson's always wanted to go to Scholomance, and we just ADORE the ambiance!" Mavis said, clasping her hands in front of her happily. It was such a beautiful and spooky look to this place, and she wondered how she could get a permanent storm situated over their own house... The man blinked in surprise.
"Most person come find us... much bigger. Adult. Child...too small." The man said, glaring at the now almost ten-year-old Harry.
"Can we at least look around?" Harry asked with sad puppy-dog eyes. After which followed an argument in quick Romanian that the rest of the family couldn't follow for the life of them. Not even Benny, who knew a few words of it.
"Fine!" The redheaded man sighed in defeat. "Master, I talk. He decide." He said grumpily, then proceeded to make a cawing sound, and pretty soon a crow showed up and landed on a branch nearby him. The crow and the man exchanged a few caws, and the crow took off. Harry stared at him in awe.
A few minutes passed, with the red-haired man staring at the DeVille's in a failed attempt at intimidation, ignoring the hyperactive questioning of the ten-year-old, and the unnerving stares of the younger child. You didn't get into such a prestigious academy for Dark Magic without nerves of steel after all.
"Grigoré. What seems to be the problem?" A tall, dark-haired man who looked no older than 20 stepped out of the door, speaking Romanian to his student, who explained the situation to him, apparently aggravated by the situation.
He held himself with a grace and elegance belonging to someone much older, and there was a hint of ancient wisdom and power, shining in his eyes, and permeating the air around him.
After a quick discussion in Romania, the red-haired man walked inside and all but slammed the door shut after him. Apparently, he was in a bit of a mood that day."Do excuse Grigore, traveler. We do not get many visitor, and is nearly time for the exam test." He smiled a charming smile, although his grey eyes were cold as steel. "I am Varujan Veaceslav.* Welcome to Şolomanţă - The most prestigious school for the Dark Arts in the western hemisphere."
"It IS Scholomance! I knew it!" Harry bounced with joy. "I wanna see it! Can I see it?! Please, please please?!" He tried his puppy-dog eyes on the man, but all he got was a small amused smile. The man was no stranger to manipulations.
"I am flattered that someone from so far away desires so strongly to come to our school. However... It may be some obstacle for you to overcome.
"First, the lessons are held purely in Romanian, not English I fear. It somewhat deters those who are not serious in their studies and think they can buy their way in." His sharp huff at the end told a story about just how many foolish foreigners who had tried that...and just how much he disdained them.
"I speak Romanian! Not perfect, but speak good. Mostly." Harry said excitedly in Romanian, happy that he had spent so much time to learn the language.
"That is good... But we are a prestigious school. Not to mention, you must have finished your magical education first. Assuming you even CAN do magic." At this, the headmaster's lip twitched slightly, as if he knew something that Harry didn't, and was teasing him.
"I can do magic!" Harry proclaimed stubbornly. "Look!" He placed his hand out towards a large stone and focused all his powers towards it, willing it to rise. It was difficult to use magic directly.
The Force users in the Star Wars movie made it look so simple, but he had to practice really, really hard just to get a small rock to float, but at the same time he really wanted to impress this man...
Slowly and wobbly, a stone the size of a small bed started to rise off the ground. Sweat broke out on Harry's forehead, but he kept focusing every bit of energy he had on making it rise.
"Up. Up. Up. Up. Up dammit!" He yelled at the rock. However, just as he saw stars, he felt the cold, clammy hands of the man pulling him away, and he lost his focus.
"Careful, young one. You'll exhaust your magical reserves." He said, but now he was looking at him with an asserting gaze.
Harry nearly sobbed. He couldn't even make it rise past his waist. It was so embarrassing!
"No! I can do it! I just...I just...need more training!" He said stubbornly and wiped the tears of shame and embarrassment from his eyes. The man looked at him with the first genuine emotions they had seen; Shock.
"You really do not know...?" He spoke softly. "Child... Wandless magic takes a lot of power and focus. Almost all magic users use a Foci of some sort because it makes them able to do bigger things. I believe British and American wizards use wands..." The man said, not specifying what they used here. "Not to mention, your magic is not fully developed yet at your age." He smiled at him. "That was quite impressive young one."
"Then you think I can get in?!" Harry said with a hopeful expression on his face, which made the man let out a hearty...if cold...laugh.
"Finish your magic education first, and we will see. Although I must warn you that we only take ten students each year. And only the absolute best of the best get in. You will need the highest grades possible in your school to even have a chance. And maybe some private tutoring before taking the entrance exam," Veaceslav explained.
The boy had power. If he worked hard, he might become someone of great power someday... Who was he to stand in the way for such a noble goal? After all... It took great strength and wisdom to become a Solomonari, and control the Great Dragon, Balaur.*
"I can do it! I know I can! Do you offer private tutors?! Or a mail correspondence?!" Harry bounced with enthusiasm at the thought of learning such beautiful things, like, right now!
Veaceslav smiled at the enthusiastic child. It was almost endearing to see someone being so excited about Evil. A rare sight nowadays. People just took life too seriously after they dedicated themselves to becoming Evil, and forgot about how fun it could be.
He caught himself before he started reminiscing about his own youth. Those were the days...
"If you work hard, get good grades, and gain great Power... I don't see why not." Then he smirked predatorily, letting his true nature shine through the polite mask. "Of course, you must also be absolutely dedicated to Evil. No one can ride the Great Dragon without being attuned to it, and strong enough to control it," he warned.
Much to his surprise Harry nodded and looked much more severe...in the way only a child trying to act grownup could. It looked adorable.
"I am. I will. I will show the world what true Evil is! Hail Satan!" He said, his arm shooting up like a German military officer in salutations to his Father, the Devil.
"Grindină Satană."* He smiled back at the child. He was sure someone looking that adorable, could do quite a lot of Evil in the world before he got caught.
"Now, if you come with me, I will show you around the school a bit. But it must be a quick visit. Gnarl, one of the worlds leading experts on Evil is coming to us to hold a seminar in a few hours, and Maricara*, our Dark Arts teacher is Striga and only teaches her classes at night... Not that the daylight ever reaches the school, but she is very insistent on upholding tradition of sleeping during day. Something about a biological clockwork... And..." He opened the book he was carrying under his arm and looked inside it. "It is not long until sunrise. And Maricara is the one you need speak to about preschool tutoring."
The family followed after the Headmaster down into the mountain itself. Scholomance was a dark and mysterious place, going deep, deep underground.
It was the tradition that the new students did not see the light of day for the 7 years they studied there... Except, of course, when they went into the village to get food and supplies.
The weaker students were known to beg for their food, while the smart and strong ones simply stole it, as it was school policy to never provide the students with anything. It built character. And hunger for power, especially when the stronger students stole their food.
The DeVille family returned back to their camp happy and in high spirits that day, and proceeded to hold a ritual where they sacrificed one of the local sheep they had come across to thank their lord Satan for this beautiful day.
Non were more happy that little Harry, who went to sleep with his Yog-Sothoth plushie in his arms and a smile on his face.
A quick note:
I do not speak a lick of Romanian, strangely enough, so I ended up basing the grammatical errors on Russian, as it is spoken in many Slavic countries as a second language, in place of english. And any grammatical errors in the Romanian guys are very much on purpose.
Scholomance is mostly known for being the school of 'The Devil', almost always viewed as an Evil school. I figured having them teach nothing but the Dark Arts would be fitting. Weather magic and speaking the language of animals is a given. Tho I am contemplating adding the ever-so-popular Necromancy. (Harry will study the equivalent of undergrad and theoretical basis of the subjects there whilst at Hogwarts after all. The Dark Arts may be forbidden to cast, and books on the subject banned, but there is no laws about studying it as a part of your future schooling. As far as I know.)
*Scholomonariu is a wizard believed, in Romanian folklore to ride a dragon (zmeu[b] or a balaur) and control the weather, causing rain, thunder, or hailstorm. (Study there are 7 years.) Only one student is chosen from the 10.
*Varujan - Bird of prey.
Veaceslav - Romanian form of Vaclav, meaning more glory.
* A balaur is a creature in Romanian folklore, similar to a European dragon. A balaur is quite large, has fins, feet, and is polycephalous (it usually has three, sometimes seven, or even twelve serpent heads). As a traditional character which is found in most Romanian fairy tales, it represents Evil and must be defeated by Făt-Frumos to release the princess. It is also believed, in Wallachia that the saliva of a balaur can form precious stones
*Maricara A sea of bitterness, or rebelliousness.
*Grindină Satană - Hail Satan in Romanian.