The giant castle of Hogwarts loomed in the distance, and Christoph spoke to Viktor in a low voice as he gathered his things. "We're almost there. Can you repeat to me our plan?"
"I am to join Hufflepuff, like you, bruder," Viktor said solemnly. "And I must avoid the Allies as much as possible. I will be your shadow and only speak to Isolde as a classmate. If I must contact her, I must do it through scrying, and only under your guidance."
The German state of Hesse nodded. "Gut. That is all I expect of you right now, as things may change later. Come, grab your things. We will exit the train promptly. I only hope your schwester will remember, for she will be the one on her own."
Viktor bit his lip. He had never, ever abandoned his schwester before, and to leave her alone was like decapitating himself. She was his other half, bound together forever, under Gott. From the same womb had they emerged, hands entwined, of golden hair and bright eyes. She was his mirror, and though they were different, they were each other's support.
Now he was abandoning her.
He didn't want her to be alone.
"Feels gut to be back!" Wyn singsonged loudly as she exited the train, stretching. Her robes were swept back in the cool breeze and Gilbert smiled, walking next to her. His tall and regal form was a perfect fit to hers, both of them thin and wiry but knotted with invisible muscle and steel. He put an arm around her shoulders and they walked together towards the castle and a waiting orientation. The girls, as usual, swooned and shot Wyn dirty looks as they watched the couple enviously.
They took their seats that night at the Slytherin tables with a refined arrogance, knocking aside the second years that dared to try and sit there. Wyn was on Gilbert's lap, laughing, as they, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo (Spain), Bella and Lars Morgens (Belgium and Netherlands), and Francis Bonnefoy (France), watched the clumsy first years in their plain robes. They filed into the chamber like ducks, or lambs being led to the slaughter. Among them were two blondes, their hair touched with light brown, and though they didn't stand together, it was plain that they were somehow related. Their vivid blue eyes conveyed emotions plain to see- one pair were narrowed and the other were wide.
"I'm worried for them," Gilbert murmured into Wyn's hair. "They look too much like West and your bruder. Look at Arthur. He sees the connection."
Wyn stared at the English boy in turn, who was carefully observing her younger siblings. "Scheiße! (1) He knows. I'll kill him, or hex him, or-"
Gilbert shushed his angry wife with a small peck on the lips. "We'll have to make sure they're careful. But quietly. If Isolde or Viktor joins Slytherin, he'll know for sure. Then we'll have to hide, or confront them. But don't worry, katzchen (2). They are mein familie (3) too."
Wyn fumed silently as a majority of the first years joined or chose Gryffindor. Only one had entered Slytherin thus far, and it was turning out to be a bad year. A dozen or so had been sorted into Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw respectively, but Gryffindor's tables were full to bursting.
Then Viktor was next. He sat on the chair, the Sorting Hat placed on his golden head as the first year witches murmured among themselves happily. However, the older witches and wizards began to whisper and gossip amongst themselves, pointing accusingly at Christoph.
Viktor's eyes met Wyn's in an ashamed glance before the Sorting Hat spoke.
"Well! One for secrets, eh? Strong-willed, ambitious, competitive…very much like our proud Germanic family in the school! A young man strong in magic and eager to prove himself. Stalwart and noble, like a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor. But secrets and a strong allegiance could put you in Slytherin. Slytherin would do you nicely, a very good fit. Only one this year, eh, Wyn?" the Sorting Hat called out.
She watched nervously, fingernails digging into Gilbert's shoulders. Arthur was eyeing Viktor murderously, face dark. "Ja!"
Oh, dear Gott, please don't place him in-
"Hufflepuff!" the Sorting Hat decided, and the hall went wild.
"He's a Germanic, just like the rest of them!" Yao Wang, or China, exclaimed, pointing wildly. Viktor's eyes narrowed and Christoph put his head in his hands, sighing. Had he done the wrong thing? I've put him and everyone else in danger. Scheiße! I shouldn't have done it, I knew the consequences, it was so risky, but…I should have disguised one of them. Everyone knows now.
Once the hall had quieted down sufficiently enough, the first years continued to be sorted. All eyes were on Isolde now, who looked down at her hands. She put her hands in the pockets of her robe and felt a cylindrical container.
She remembered Kiku had given it to her on the train. As she lifted it carefully from her pocket to see what it was – a potion? a charm? – she realized they were a pair of brown colored contacts.
Danke (3), Kiku, she thought, slipping them into her eyes when no one seemed to be looking at her.
She sat in the high stool as a professor slipped the heavy, dark leather hat on her head. Isolde looked to the houses, catching the gazes of the Germanic family in her stride as the hat examined her thoughts and personality.
"You remind me much of Lili Zwingli," the hat said. "But you're different. Much different. Courageous, spontaneous…a sharp mind. Very interesting, you could fit into Gryffindor very well."
"Please, no," Isolde said in a whisper.
"Then what shall you be? Slytherin? Your intelligence and creativity may serve well there as well."
"No, please…"
"I see Ravenclaw in your thoughts. Perhaps I shall…hmm…you are a most peculiar case, Isolde Meier," she cringed as her last name was revealed and the gossiping started once more. But her pronounced it more as an Americanized name- Meyer. She hoped the contacts would shield her from any possibilities of being related and connected to the Germanic family, knowing the threats that she faced were outrageous.
Her eyes latched onto spring green ones, the eyes of Arthur Kirkland, who narrowed them at her.
"Then you could also be a Gryffindor…Isolde Meier, Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat announced.
A sigh of relief went through the lips of every Germanic nation there, as Arthur's mind spun rapidly, trying to figure out who this anomaly was.
Heracles welcomed Isolde warmly. "I'm glad you joined us, Isolde," he gave her a small hug and her eyes widened, feeling warm inside. He chuckled as she blushed.
"Yes, welcome," Kiku said softly. He was studying from a different textbook now and he didn't look up to greet her. "Arthur has been watching you intently. Did you use the contacts I gave you?"
Isolde began to say 'ja' when she corrected herself. She couldn't use German now- it was too dangerous. "Yes, I did," she replied, words feeling unfamiliar and strange on her tongue.
Heracles raised an eyebrow. "You're already learning. Good for you," he remarked, tousling the younger girl's hair. He yawned as he sat down once more.
"Come, let's eat," a giggling girl with tanned skin and silky black hair said to Isolde. "I'm Kaleigh Khan, or Laos. Nice to meet you, Isolde! Your hair is so long and pretty, like Wyn's."
A nod from Kiku told Isolde that she was safe with her, that the spunky country knew her secret. She was led in a linked arm to a spot next to Kaleigh, who urged her to eat.
Isolde muttered a quick prayer to Gott before she began to eat the large varieties of food set before them. When she paused to wipe her fingers, she saw the distinctive patch of Ravenclaw on her robes.
"You've become one of us," a low voice said, patting her shoulder. Isolde turned to see Roderich Edelstein, or Austria, giving her a small smile from beneath his messy hair. "Congratulations, schwester."
Isolde smiled at the brotherly figure, who squeezed her shoulder and added in a low voice, "Be careful, Mädchen (4.)"
"Cool, I've never met Austria before! Have you met my brother yet?" Kaleigh bubbled in between bites of roast boar. She pointed out a calm young man with glasses and spiky black hair. He caught Isolde's eyes and smiled, giving a small bow with his fingertips below his lips. "That's Nirand Khan, he's my big brother and Thailand! You should meet his elephant sometime. Oh, and in the Ravenclaw tower, you can be my roommate! I'll make one of the other witches move for you. We're all going to Diagon Alley tomorrow, and on Sunday, we'll tour the school. Do you have all your supplies? Does that sound good?"
Isolde grinned, nodding. "That sounds great. I only need a wand, since Gregorovitch is retired. My family…they're very loyal to their roots."
"Gregorovitch is Russian, isn't he?"
"Bulgarian or Romanian. I can't remember which."
That night, Isolde fell asleep comfortably knowing that she was not alone among the Ravenclaws, in the new world she had entered, where she belonged to no affiliation and had no family.
It was a startling thought.
"How is Viktor settling in?" Wyn asked Christoph in the scrying pool. Though no professors dared patrol the halls of the Slytherin dungeon, Wyn was still careful to conceal herself in a small antechamber on the fifth-year boys' dorm, where Gilbert could reach her in case of an emergency.
"He is…not himself," Christoph responded. "He misses Isolde and many of the boys are trying to bully him. I tried to intervene, but-"
"Don't listen to Christoph, schwester," Viktor appeared in the screen. "I'm fine."
Already, a hardness had appeared in the young boy's voice.
"Bruder, let us talk," Wyn scolded. Viktor lowered his head and exited with a huff. She spoke to Christoph in a concerned tone. "Ja, I know what you mean. I can see it in him. We need to find out what the Allies are planning, though."
Christoph shushed his schwester. "We can speak of it at another time. We'll go to Diagon Alley with everyone else tomorrow- have someone watch Isolde. She will do something reckless, mark my words. She's…a lot like you at that age. But she doesn't have anyone, especially her beloved twin. Anyways, gut nacht, schwester. Ich hab' Dich lieb. (5)"
Wyn smiled and wished her bruder a gut nacht back before standing from her crouched position, shivering in her black silk nightgown and robe.
A pair of arms wrapped around Wyn's waist as she exited the alcove, and Gilbert leaned down to nip her in the neck playfully. "Who was that, Fräulein Beilschmidt?"
"Christoph," she replied, squealing when Gilbert hoisted her up bridal-style.
"It's late," he complained. "You should be asleep, katzchen. You need to take care of yourself. Worrying about your siblings is going to ruin your pretty face-" he kissed her on the nose- "your lovely skin-" he buried his face in her neck- "your beautiful mind."
"Gilbert!" she hissed, familiar with his flirting. "We just got back. Do we have to-"
"Nein," he grinned at her heated blush. "Let's just sleep. I'm so happy I married you. When are we-"
Wyn shushed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He took the hint and quietly walked to his more secluded room, where the Slytherin students were already sleeping heavily. He laid her down in his bed, coaxing her robe off. He lay down next to her and guided her silky arms around his neck, laying his around her hip. Her eyes began to flutter shut and he brushed his lips against hers.
"Gut nacht, katzchen. Ich liebe dich, (6)" Gilbert whispered before closing his own eyes. Wyn hummed happily in response, bringing a warmth through Gilbert that shook his heart and made him weak.
Everything is worth it for her. All of it. All of it was worth it for her, even…Russia.
The morning they left for Diagon Alley was cold, reminding Isolde of the cold Scottish weather. Isolde dressed herself in layers of clothes and pulled her robes on slowly after. She wrapped the gold and blue Ravenclaw scarf around her neck, a gift from Kaleigh. The scarf was the finishing touch to making her feel warm and cozy, and she was reluctant to move. How is it that Wyn and Gilbert and the others can survive in this weather, and colder, in such fewer layers?!
She caught glances of Wyn and Gilbert, Christoph and Viktor, and Vash and Lili. She wished she could run to them and gather in their warm embrace, but Kaleigh gave her a look of warning and kept a firm grip on her arm.
As they arrived at Ollivander's Wand Shoppe, Isolde glanced in the glass pane of the window, holding back a gasp as she noticed Wyn, Gilbert, Ludwig, Christoph, and Viktor behind them.
A flash of anger coursed through Isolde. Why can't I be with them? Why Viktor? We're twins, after all!
Kaleigh pulled her along into the shop, where they were greeted by a wizened old man and his similarly old cat. This was Julius Ollivander, the most famous wand maker in Britain. "How can I help you, witches?"
"Isolde is looking for a wand," Kaleigh explained, before whispering in Isolde's ear to hurry up because she wanted to get butterbeer after.
The old man smiled. "Nothing better than fitting for a first wand! My son was a Ravenclaw, like me, as well, you know," he said as he began sifting through boxes of wands. "You look like you could use something with a strong heart and more flexible wood. Finding the right wand is always a delightful challenge."
He disappeared into the back room, coming out with a dozen boxes. He took the top one, opened it, and handed it to Isolde. "Try this one, it's a new wand. Scarcely a month old. Dragon heartstring and vine, like a famous witch of some time ago. Hermione Granger."
Isolde reached to grasp the wand and it flew away from her, repelled, in a sputter of sparks. It almost had a personality, and it was rejecting her.
"Not right, terribly wrong guess. I apologize," Mr. Ollivander said. He put it away and looked into the next box. "Ahh, this one has not seen light for a long time. Ten inches, manticore hair and pine. A balanced wa-"
He stopped mid-sentence as the wand popped and sputtered. Isolde set it down quickly. "Sorry, Mr. Ollivander, I-"
"No apologies," he waved her excuse away with his hand. "This is a good challenge!"
He rummaged through the stack he held, pushing the boxes to the floor when he didn't find what he wanted. He walked briskly to the back room, muttering to himself. There was a squeak of door handles being turned and a vault being unlocked and Kaleigh's eyes widened.
"I've never seen him not get it right within the first two!" she exclaimed. "Let's see what he brings you, Isolde."
Mr. Ollivander returned with only two boxes, held gingerly in his wizened hands. "One of these must choose you. If not, I have none others that could possibly choose you, witch."
Isolde bowed her head apologetically. "I'm really sorry for bo-"
He smiled. "Never apologize for my shortage of wands! I'm getting old, you see, and my son must soon take over the business. What a shame, as I loved fitting wizards to wands. Wandlore is my passion. Now, pick one, dear."
Isolde chose the one on the right, aware that her siblings and family were watching. Ollivander opened the box, producing a wand with a smooth handle and rounded bottom. A curved scratch in the wood was an indicator for the placement of her index finger and the wood was silver-tinged with a dark grain. The design was slightly abstract, but the shaft was straight and proud. At the top of its handle were two arcane swirls, like fire.
"This is an 11 and a quarter inch, silver lime wand with a griffin claw core. One of my finest and the last with griffin claw inside. I no longer use either for my wands," Ollivander explained. "For someone with pure ideals, high goals, and a gift for Seeing. I believe you are the one it's been waiting for."
Isolde picked up the wand, her hand tingling. She gave it an experimental wave, and the wand complied to lift the box after a moment of hesitation. Wyn gave an excited clap as Ollivander was assured that it was Isolde's match.
Christoph slammed down galleons (coins) on the counter and motioned to Viktor. "Him too."
"Twins always have opposite wands," Ollivander said, surprising Isolde with his correct guess. "He looks older, more refined. Noble. Hufflepuff, like yourself," he nodded to Christoph. "Taller. He'll be a taller."
He disappeared into the stacks once more and came out with three boxes. He handed the first to Isolde's twin and began rattling off its facts. "Fourteen inches and a quarter, ashwinder ash core, cedar wood. Powerful, truthful. Perfectly suited for a strong defender."
With a quick wave, Viktor quickly had his wand on the first attempt. Christoph handed Ollivander more galleons and Isolde exited, following Kaleigh's plead to get butterbeer.
Such was her first encounter in Diagon Alley, with her new wand pressed protectively against her chest.
"Could you please check my wand?" Wyn stepped forward to the counter once the shop was empty. She placed her wand on it. "I'm planning to enter the Triwizard Tournament."
Julius Ollivander picked up the black wand in his hands, frowning. "Thirteen inches and seven-eighths, a threstal hair core-"
He looked at Wyn, who nodded. "You have been touched by Death."
"Many times," Wyn nodded and Gilbert squeezed her hand.
"Rare wood- a mix. Fascinating. Not of my make, nor any of our present artists. Very old," he eyed his customer suspiciously. "Lacewood and ebony inlays, Poisonwood and Bloodwood grip. Elder and cypress length."
He stopped. "This is a wand of expensive and terrifying make. It should not have been born."
"This is my wand," Wyn said simply. "Made before your many-times over ancestor, Ollivander, set up his shop in Ancient Rome. One of a kind."
"The make is ancient," he agreed. "But who would craft such a weapon?"
"Calypso. The one of myth."
"Impossible."
"This is the twin wand," Gilbert explained, handing the maker his own, which hummed in the presence of Wyn's.
His face darkened. "Myths should stay in storybooks."
"Two myths lay before you, evidence of it."
He picked up the wand. "Fifteen and three-quarters inches, threstal hair core. The twin of the other. Snakewood and Zebrawood inlays, elder and cypress grip. Poisonwood and Bloodwood length. Such incredible, dangerous work!"
"The twins used to be called Phobos and Deimos, but they are now Einsamkeit and S'terben. Loneliness and Death." Gilbert added.
"I pity you and you opponents," Julius Ollivander said gravely. "For you walk a fine line between all that is good in this world and all that can twist it in a moment. These wands bestow their names upon the people they touch, scarring and twisting them."
"When used with good purpose, they can be changed," Wyn argued. "Like all things when they are faced with uncertainty."
"Sometimes for the worse."
(1) Shit or F**k
(2) Kitten
(3) My family
(4) Little girl
(5) I love you (to family)
(6) I love you (to a boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife)
I really enjoyed writing this chapter! I'm happy to say that this is no longer on hiatus, but expect slower but longer updates.
I hope you enjoy this! I've already started on chapter 4!
Now please READ AND REVIEW :D