Although Harry recalled Viktor saying that fires were only lit for magical purposes, a crackling fire in a stone hearth was right at the end of his chamber. The cheery atmosphere the fire provided was slightly dampened by the fact that the flames were an eerie purplish color.
Harry's trunk and broomstick sat at the end of a rather plain four poster bed. The rug beneath his feet was slightly worn, depicting gruesome battle scenes. Harry resolved not to look down too much. Despite the rather humble furnishings, the real gem of the room was the enormous window that opened outwards, paned with crystal clear glass tinted red and gold.
Harry pushed the window open, letting the sharp mountain breeze ruffle his hair. He leaned out as far as he could, taking in the amazing scenery below. The grounds were far bigger than Hogwarts's, extending to the base of the mountains and a little beyond. The sweeping green lawns dotted with evergreen trees complemented the shiny silver lake, rippling in the wind. If Harry craned his neck around far enough, he could see more buildings to the right of the main building.
Ahead lay a stunning mountain range, snow capped and majestic. Harry turned his head to the left and was met with Ron's grinning face.
"Hey, Harry!" Ron bellowed over the wind. "Isn't this view great? At least Fred and George aren't here to throw snowballs in our faces every time we open the window, because I'm going to leave it open all the time."
Harry laughed in agreement, then pulled his head back inside.
Although it was a welcome change to have a room all to himself, Harry missed the constant and cheerful chatter of his roommates at the Gryffindor tower.
He was unpacking his robes into a small mahogany dresser when a brisk knock came at the door.
"Dinner!" An unfamiliar voice called. Harry was sure it was another Durmstrang student, and though he was dying to see who it was, he wasn't quite ready yet.
"Be right there!" Harry yelled, trying to flatten his hair and close the drawers at the same time.
He opened the chamber door and got into a line along with the other Hogwarts ambassadors. Their student escort looked like all the others. A serious, brooding expression, with short, dark, cropped hair and a lot taller than Harry.
Hermione walked at the front, of course, peering around eagerly. Harry suspected she was rapidly taking notes in her head, which she'd probably write down later.
They made their way up a flight of stairs, (Harry was surprised there were no tricks such as disappearing steps) and through another illusion, this time designed to look like a dead end. Durmstrang seemed fortified in a mysterious, interesting way. Ron saw a rat scurry past them, and repressed a shudder. Harry knew that Ron was thinking of Scabbers.
Hermione was chatting with the Durmstrang student, who looked a bit taken aback by all of her questions. He answered in single words, grunts, and hand gestures.
They rounded the corner and...there was the dining hall.
Harry, used to the open and cavernous Great Hall, was interested to see that the Durmstrang students ate in a low, long, and dimly lit room. There were wooden tables running the lengths of the room, and benches at either side. There didn't seem to be any specific seating plan, but everyone knew exactly where to sit and filed neatly into their places without disturbing the lines that marched steadily into the dining hall.
Harry and Ron looked around as their escort left them.
"Where do you think we're supposed to sit?" Neville whispered.
There were more students streaming in by the minute. Every place was going to be filled. Harry didn't want to disrupt the precise seating process that the Durmstrang students were performing. Where could they sit?
"There!" Hermione said, pointing. In the corner was a smaller table that could seat four. When they got to it, it had a little placard that said: Ambassadors.
"Good thinking, Hermione!" Ron said, sitting down.
Unlike the mealtimes of Hogwarts, the dining area of Durmstrang was absolutely quiet, save for the clinking of silverware. Harry was immensely relieved to see that they didn't all take bites or swallow at the same time. That would have been way too inhuman.
"Look!" Ron said. "Food!"
Indeed, a platter of unidentifiable food had appeared in front of them. The smells coming off it were amazing, and Harry's mouth watered in delight.
"It looks like...banitsa!" Hermione said, leaning closer.
"What?" Neville asked, scooping some onto his plate, too impatient to wait for the answer.
"It's like a kind of Bulgarian pastry with egg and cheese."
"Sounds good," said Ron, helping himself. Harry and Hermione took some too. Their table was so small that only one dish could present itself at a time. As soon as they'd taken as much as they wanted, another dish appeared, and the first vanished.
"Wow," said Ron, his mouth still full of banitsa. "That's so cool."
The rest of the meal included Hermione spewing facts about Durmstrang, Neville fighting to get a stain off his clothes, and Ron wondering whether they were supposed to wear their plain Hogwarts robes or their Gryffindor Hogwarts robes.
The four were debating about whether Durmstrang had a version of Hogsmeade when the doors of the dining hall swung grandly open in a gust of icy air. The Headmistress of Durmstrang (Professor Vulchanova), Dumbledore, and McGonagall swept through to the teacher's table, which was slightly elevated on a dais.
The Durmstrang students immediately got to their feet in a wave of scarlet uniforms. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville leaped to their feet as well and clapped along with the rest of the dining hall. Looking towards the teacher's table, he noticed the other professors of Durmstrang for the first time.
There was a huge hulking wizard covered in battle scars, whose beady eyes seemed tired. His muscles rivaled Hagrid's though he was nowhere near as tall. Harry suspected he taught martial magic. There was a slim, timid looking woman, with brown hair tied into a low ponytail, a short, old man, who looked like he'd seen too much of life, and two twins, boy and girl, who looked pretty young, about Professor Lupin's age. The twins, who had been talking quietly, stopped and stood up straighter. They were by far the tallest professors, not counting McGonagall, Vulchanova, and Dumbledore.
Harry thought it impossible that only five professors could teach all of the Durmstrang students crowded into the hall.
After everyone had sat down again, the professors took their places and began to eat. Harry was enjoying dessert when Professor Vulchanova suddenly stood up and clapped her hands loudly.
All the noise in the dining hall ceased immediately.
The magical torches lining the walls dimmed at the same time. Harry looked around. The Durmstrang students seemed completely at ease. Dumbledore looked grave, but expectant. McGonagall had a similar expression on her face, but it was Hermione who told their table what was actually going on.
"They're erasing our memories of getting here." She said in such a quiet whisper that they had to lean in to hear her.
"But it was already so hard to tell where we were going!" Neville said, looking worried.
"They can never be too careful. What if we put a tracking spell on the carriage? I mean, obviously Durmstrang is Unplottable, but someone could still figure out the approximate location if Durmstrang didn't take precautions. It's the most secretive wizarding school there is."
"We will now begin the extraction of memory." Vulchanova said in a clear, echoing voice. "Ron Weasley, please step forward."
"Me?!" Ron whisper-shouted to the rest of the group.
"Go, go!" Hermione said, waving him towards the front of the room.
Ron stood up shakily. His hands were trembling and his ears were red.
"You'll be okay, Ron," Harry said encouragingly, though inside he was as nervous as Ron was.
Ron somehow made it to the front of the room without tripping or fainting. Professor Vulchanova gave him a slightly eerie smile, then waved her hands. A stone basin, similar in shape to a Pensive, appeared on the table in front of her. Hermione inhaled slightly.
"A nonverbial spell!" She said to Harry. "I want to master those one day."
Harry, focusing on Ron, didn't respond.
Neville sat frozen like a mouse, his face clearly displaying that he was terrified for his turn.
"Please place your hand carefully inside this basin," Vulchanova instructed Ron.
Ron stuck his shaking hand out of sight. Immediately, his brow relaxed, and his shoulders unknotted.
"What's she doing to him?!" Hermione said nervously.
"Taking away his memories of how to get here, of course." Harry replied. It didn't look particularly painful, but to be standing at the front of a room full of Durmstrangs watching had to be a bit scary.
"Why can't she just use the memory-wiping spell?"
"This method must be stronger, or something."
They watched him uneasily. His face lacked much expression, and his body sagged slightly.
Ron was done. Vulchanova motioned for him to stand up. He made his way back to their table, stumbling slightly on the edge of his robes.
"Ron, are you okay?" Hermione asked anxiously. "She didn't do anything else to your brain, right?"
"Dumbledore was right there, and Ron looks fine," Neville said.
"Hmm? Oh, it was like a light, airy feeling, though you're left missing something…"
"Yes, a memory," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
"Right, right. But it felt a bit like (Ron whispered this part) the Imperius curse. It was like my mind went a bit blank." Ron sat down. "I'm glad it's over with. Vulchanova was a bit creepy."
Hermione frowned.
"Harry Potter!"
Harry started at the sound of his name, then stood up quickly and tried to walk calmly and naturally to the basin.
He felt like his movements were slow and jerky, like he was forgetting how to walk. He didn't recall ever being this nervous except that time when he had to learn how to dance at the Yule ball last year.
At last, he stood in front of Vulchanova. She'd changed into scarlet robes with purplish-silver embellishments.
It might have been a trick of the light, but Harry swore her eyes gleamed a bright purple for a second. He shook his head to clear it and faced the sea of students, some of whom looked bored and disinterested.
"Please place your hand carefully inside this basin."
Harry swallowed and looked into the depths of the basin. If a Pensive's contents were like daylight, this basin's contents would have been nighttime. It seemed to go on forever, with darkness overlapping darkness until his head spun from trying to fathom the universes inside the basin.
"Go on," Professor Vulchanova said, unnervingly. Harry looked away from her stare and put his hand into the swirling mists.
He immediately felt a strong pulling sensation, like a black hole sucking everything through it. The world seemed to tilt, yet he felt himself almost floating…His mind was turning fuzzy and blank...
There was something being pulled from his very being...He was dimly aware of Vulchanova watching him closely from the side. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to fight the invisible force, but it was no use. Harry could feel a sheen of sweat starting to develop over his body. The force was too strong, and relentless, pulling and tugging, while he tired, and labored to maintain hold…
He lost his mental grip and the memory slid from his mind into the basin, where he had a strange feeling that things that went into it never came out again.
Gasping, he pulled his hand hurriedly from the basin. Vulchanova was watching him with a calculating look. As quickly as he could, Harry rushed back to his table and took a seat. When he looked at the teacher's table, he could've sworn McGonagall gave him a tiny wink.
Hermione immediately pounced.
"Harry! What was wrong? You looked like you were in a lot of pain."
"I-I'm fine… I just…" Harry didn't know how to explain that he felt off, that he'd tried to fight whatever was pulling the memory from his brain, bit by bit.
Hermione was called up, and, shaking, her memory was extracted and thrust into the basin. Then Neville went, and all of the students stood up to applaud.
Ron was flushed, Neville still looked a little dazed, and Hermione kept glancing at Harry to make sure he was okay. Apparently, nothing had gone wrong with her extraction. He avoided her gaze as they filed out of the dining hall to their quarters.
After they'd all exchanged good nights and headed into their own rooms, Harry changed into pajamas and lay underneath his covers, glasses off, and stared out of the window at the full moon, pondering.