"Come on, ve vill go to the Potions class now."

There was no doubt in Harry's mind that this Potions classroom was going to be more spine-chilling than even the darkest Slytherin dungeon, because he didn't have a good feeling about this. His spine tingled with awareness.

They walked down to the ground floor, took a right, and went down a slippery spiral staircase that grew colder and danker with every step they took.

"Who teaches Potions?" Hermione asked.

Krum was about to answer when a deafening gong-like sound pierced the air.

"Oi!" Ron bellowed at the top of his lungs, looking around. Viktor looked unfazed, while Harry and Hermione covered their ears.

Neville cowered against the wall, trembling and whimpering slightly. Harry's head rang as his ears got used to the silence after the boom.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"That vas the signal telling people to go to their next class."

"L-like a bell of some sort?" Neville said, rubbing his ears.

"Yes. Exactly. You get used to it after a vhile. Come on, now. Ve are a little behind schedule."

They gathered themselves shakily and continued on their way. Now that Harry's ears were working again, he could hear many pairs of feet relocating their owners to the next class. A rumble of voices filled the hallway ahead, and without warning they were suddenly thrust into a sea of red uniforms and fur-lined capes.

Harry found it hard to breathe; they were packed so tightly. Being shorter than ninety percent of the crowd, Harry constantly face-planted into various people's backs. He had no idea where Krum was, and was only able to identify his friends because of their black Hogwarts robes.

"VIKTOR!" He heard Ron shouting over the rest of the students. Harry swiveled his neck around desperately to try and pinpoint where Ron was. It was suffocating and crowded, yet none of the Durmstrang students seemed to mind. They marched towards their next class with no regards for who they were pushing or trampling.

Neville walked past him in the opposite direction, looking disoriented.

"Neville!" Harry hissed, and caught Neville's sleeve before he could disappear into the crowd.

"Harry!" Neville said, relieved. "Where are the others?"

"Did you hear Ron?"

"Yeah but-"

"Do you know where he is?"

"No, I was looking for him-"

"Me, too! And I-"

"Hey, is that Hermione?"

"Hermione?"

"HERMIONE?"

"I don't think she can hear us, Neville. Come on, let's try to get over there."

Harry and Neville elbowed their way through the much taller Durmstrang students, who barely glanced down at them. Neville was breathing hard, and sweat began to drip down Harry's face. They tired after a while, and every wall looked the same. They could be heading back the way they came for all Harry knew.

Where was everyone?

They felt like salmon swimming upstream. The majority of the students seemed to be heading in the direction that Harry and the others had just come from.

Then Harry felt a strange sensation in his body, like a kind of tingling and prickling. He looked quickly at Neville, who seemed to be experiencing the same thing.

"Harry? What's happen-" But Neville's words slurred and he disappeared. Harry looked around for him, confused and discombobulated.

Then he felt himself shrink, down, down, until he was something small on the stone floor, and currently in danger of being trampled by polished black boots.

He was a bug! Something or someone had just transformed him...but why? He could feel each of the tiny hairs on his jointed legs. His eyes took in different shades of color, and he took a few experimental steps forward. The feeling was so alien that he stopped, then quickly started again as a massive boot came smashing down in front of him.

Harry scurried through a forest of legs, and somehow his path was getting clearer and easier…with less obstacles and less legs...

He looked to his right and saw a Venenum bug. Harry made a sound of alarm (if bugs can do that) and started to wheel away, remembering Krum's warnings about the toxic hybrid insect.

Harry, it said. Harry, wait. It's Neville.

Neville?

You're a creepy bug too!

What?

Yeah! Look, people are getting out of the way.

It was true. Durmstrang students parted, pointing at the bugs and yelling at each other to get out of the way. Harry and Neville now had a clear path through the rush-hour hallway, people jumping out of their way to avoid getting stung. Harry wasn't even sure if they actually had venom in their bodies, being only temporary Venenum bugs.

Brilliant! Harry said to Neville. But who did it?

Dunno. Oh look! There's Ron and Hermione.

Ron looked monstrously huge, so tall that Harry could barely make out his ginger hair. A gigantic hand reached down and Harry stepped onto it.

The giant hand took Harry and Neville over to Hermione and Krum, who quickly led them to an empty corridor.

Hermione waved her wand, and they transformed into humans again.

"That was so cool, Hermione!" Harry said, gasping and trying to regain control of his human tongue again.

Neville was standing off to the side, eyes wide and probably reliving his brief experience of life as a bug.

"Hurry up now, I want to see the Potions class," Hermione said impatiently, but she gave them a brief smile of acknowledgement.

"The rush is over now," Viktor said, looking around. "Ve should be able to get to Potions easily. That hallvay is alvays full of people."

They followed him in a single file line, going through three illusion doors and walls before finally arriving at a closed metal door. The purplish-flamed torches bracketed to the walls flickered menacingly.

Harry could see water dripping down the stone walls to splatter on the floor. Plink...plink...plink…

Krum braced a hand against the door and pushed it open, grunting. The door was an unusual thickness, almost like a bank vault…

But as they stepped gingerly over the threshold, Harry stopped in his tracks, causing several people to bump into him.

Vulchanova stood in the classroom with her front to the door, talking to the old professor that Harry had seen their first night at Durmstrang. She looked animated and excited about something, yet Harry felt a sense of foreboding. Her silver robes glowed an unearthly white under the Potions classroom lights. It appeared like she was trying to get the old professor to keep a secret, because the professor was leaning away from her slightly, as though frightened or unwilling, his balding head shaking slightly.

Harry strained his ears, and heard a couple broken phrases: replicate...count...important...

Harry could hear his friends muttering, telling him to move into the room. He took two uneasy steps forward, trying still to listen to the conversation ahead of him. The others filed inside the Potions classroom behind Harry.

The pair quickly stopped talking at the sound of their footsteps.

Professor Vulchanova's eyes drifted to the left, and she caught Harry staring at her. She smiled, a slow, fake smile, and tilted her head. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Excuse me," she said to the old professor. "But I believe the Hogwarts ambassadors have arrived."

"Oh, yes!" The professor said in a reedy voice. "So sorry to interrupt our conversation, Headmistress."

"No harm done. We can finish talking later. Good day." She patted the old man's arm (though the look in her eyes was anything but kind), nodded to the Hogwarts students and swept out of the room, leaving a icy chill behind her. Neville shivered. Viktor pushed the door closed, and metal against stone made a ghostly screeching sound.

The Potions professor had thin whitish silver hair, reminding Harry of Flitwick, and tottered around on unsteady feet. Although he was slightly shorter than Harry, Harry got the feeling that this professor commanded quite a bit of respect.

"May I ask what your name is, Professor?" Hermione said nervously.

"Of course! Didn't I already tell you, young lady?"

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"Well, my name is Professor Blacke. I teach Potions at this school and have been teaching Potions here for many, many years. Why, I don't even remember how long…" He looked rather frazzled and jumpy, and wrung his hands hard. Harry suspected it was a side effect of talking to the Headmistress.

"That's quite all right, Professor. Why don't you take a seat and tell us a bit more about Durmstrang's Potion class-"

"No, it's fine. I can walk you four around the room. It's no trouble." He stood straighter and started walking around the perimenter of the room, straightening scales and stacks of textbooks.

"If you're sure, sir." Hermione took out a quill and parchment from somewhere, and began looking around the room.

Viktor stood rather awkwardly near the entrance, fiddling with his robes idly. It seemed that he didn't really have a connection with Blacke, which Harry found odd because he was on such good terms with the other professors at Durmstrang.

It was then that Harry noticed the classroom. Dank and dark, it would've perfectly suited Snape. There was a keen sense of dark magic hanging about the place, which Harry didn't appreciate. The ingredients were all neatly labeled in drawers, and many had ominous-sounding names that Harry didn't recognize. The classroom was empty of students, and it seemed that Blacke had a free period until the next batch of students came.

Ron's stomach interrupted Harry's observations. It grumbled with enough volume that Hermione frowned at it from a few feet away.

Blacke, who was apparently engrossed with sorting bundles of dried potions ingredients, didn't give any sign that he heard it; he rambled on and on as he sorted.

"Ron, shut it, will you?" Hermione said. "It's disrespectful. Here. Eat this." She discreetly handed him a Chocolate Frog, and he bit into it with a groan.

"Don' know wha' I'd do wivout you," Ron said with his mouth stuffed.

What Harry wanted to know was what Vulchanova had been talking about. Her eyes had looked strange again...

"I assume," Blacke said in a raspy voice, then cleared his throat loudly. "I assume that you do not learn about the magical and dangerous art of poisons at Hogwarts?"

"No, of course not, Professor! It's dark magic."

"But is it not necessary?"

They all looked at each other, confused. Ron shrugged, swallowing his chocolate.

"Here, I teach my students about poisons as well as potions. You must be able to understand the Dark Arts to defeat them." Blacke looked around as if scared people would overhear them. Hermione's hand whizzed across the paper, taking rapid ntoes.

This made sense, but Harry was still slightly suspicious. He'd heard many times before that Durmstrang was the most closely related to Dark Arts out of the wizarding schools.

"You don't teach students how to make poisons?" Harry inquired, trying to wrap his mind around whatever was brewing.

Blacke looked uncomfortable. "Yes, well, we do teach the art poisons, you know, the simple ones."

But judging by the ingredients that could be found in this classroom, Harry highly doubted that was the case.

"What was Vulchanova doing in here, Professor Blacke?"

"It is none of your business where Headmistress Vulchanova goes," snapped Blacke, suddenly defensive. His eyes darted around at them all, searching and wary. His hands were clasped tightly, and the veins stood out from his papery skin.

"O-okay." Harry didn't want to prod him when eh looked so unstable, so he turned away and took a few steps towards the cabinet with all of the ingredients.

"NO!" Came a shout from behind him. "Sorry, no, please, don't touch that. It's not very, ah, safe. Just best, to, er, well, leave it alone," Blacke said, stumbling over his words as he yanked a vial from a shocked looking Neville's hand. Harry turned, confused and startled like the rest of them.

"It's very private, mind you, very private," Blacke muttered, turning away. "Not for your, uh, young selves."

The vial, stoppered with a purple crystal, contained some sort of dark liquid, and didn't look particularly dangerous.

There was definitely something going on.

Their next stop was the Charms classroom, located on the second floor in an airy, bright classroom with large open windows. The cheery atmosphere was a pleasant shift from the clammy Potions room, and Harry felt warmth gradually seep back into his limbs.

The teacher, Professor Alexander (the female twin) was slightly more aloof than her brother, but welcomed them all the same.

Harry found he couldn't concentrate on her speech about Durmstrang's Charms curriculum; instead, his mind wandered to what had happened in the Potions room. He wondered if he was overreacting or totally blowing up something that wasn't actually that big of a deal, but Dumbledore always told him to trust his gut…

The Durmstrang students were working quietly at their desks. Professor Alexander moved to help one of them.

"Please feel free to take a look around the classroom." She said, and left the ambassadors to it.

Ron ran his hands over the walls, seeming bored and disinterested. Hermione watched the students trying out different enchantments, and Neville flipped idly through textbooks, reading snippets to them in hushed whispers whenever he found something interesting.

"Look! This one's got writing all over the pages." Neville said in a hushed voice.

Harry swiveled his head to the side to observe the neat blocks of lettering filled the margins of the Charms textbook in Neville's hands.

"Hey Hermione-Ron-come look at this," Harry said quietly, waving them over and trying not to disrupt the Charms class going on.

The words were the same words repeated over and over again: Invisibility Cloak Resurrection Stone Elder Wand Deathly Hallows Invisibility Cloak Resurrection Stone Elder Wand Deathly Hallows Invisibility Cloak…

"Maybe the bloke was just bored," said Ron, shrugging.

Hermione, however, frowned at the words. "Hmm. Where have I heard that before? It sounds familiar."

She took the book from Neville (who didn't protest) and started turning the yellowed pages. Three pages from the writing, she found a cluster of symbols drawn onto the paper. It was a bunch of triangles split down the center with a line. There was a small circle inside of the triangle too, also split down the center with the same line.

And there was a name, doodled around the edges of the page: Grindelwald.

"Gellert Grindelwald. One of the most powerful Dark wizards in history!" She whispered. But that was the mistake.

It seemed like a blanket of icy hate had fallen over the room. The posture of every single Durmstrang person, students and professor alike, changed, stiffening, as if Hermione's sentence had turned them all into statues. Cold, unforgiving statues.

Harry didn't understand what it was all about, except a bad feeling that Hermione had said or done something very, very, wrong.

She looked just as scared as he felt. "Did I do something?" She said to the rest of the group, fear evident in her eyes as she took in the room full of hostile stares. She slwoly closed the book, uncomfortable with all those eyes on her, and replaced the book on its proper stack.

Viktor, who was looking at them with hate ill-disguised in his eyes as well, shook his head as if to clear it and said loudly:

"It is okay. They did not know. Ve can leave now."

Professor Alexander didn't try to stop them as they hurried out of the Charms classroom.

Once outside, Krum turned to them.

"You must never say that name. It is like saying You-Know-Oo. Grinelvald killed many relatives and friends of ours. He vanted to control all the Muggles and take over. Grindelvald used to go here, used to go to Durmstrang. But he vas expelled for practicing the Dark Arts." He shuddered with loathing and looked at them seriously to make sure they understood. Harry nodded.

"I'm very sorry," Hermione whispered. "I didn't know. I-I won't do it again."

"It's okay, the first time," Viktor said, and Harry wondered if there were actually tears in his eyes. Maybe Viktor had had someone in his family killed by Grindelwald. There was a story here, Harry just wasn't sure what it was.

Tired out by the day of visiting classes, Ron, Hermione, and Neville headed into their quarters.

Viktor turned to Harry.

"Potter. You still play Quidditch?"

"What? Oh, yeah. When I have time."

"Me and a few others are meeting up today after classes. If you vant, ve can head over there together."

"Oh, that'd be great, sure."

Harry and Krum exchanged a few awkward nods before Harry ducked into his room, grinning. He'd feel the wind in his hair again soon, and he couldn't wait to be back on his Firebolt.