Beginning note:
Originally, this chapter was meant to only be from Jannik's perspective. However, at three points, I found it necessary to switch to Ville.
Buying his wand, the scene where he is bullied, and his arrival to Durmstrang.
Enjoy my mammoth of this chapter.
Trigger for some bullying.
If there is anyone who finds mistakes, please point them out. I do my best to go over them and fix the grammar at least twice, but since it's my own material, I am likely to overlook some.
Interlude:
Jannik Olsen
August 21st dawned with a chill in the air as Jannik, Ville, and Teodor, flanked by their guards, entered the grandeur of Älvrikets Skattkammare, the Swedish Wizarding Bank. Marble columns soared towards the high ceiling, adorned with enchanted chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow. Clad in sharp suits, Goblins bustled about, attending to their clientele.
Approaching the counters, the goblin attendants welcomed Jannik, Ville, and Teodor, their eyes sharp and calculating. Jannik exchanged pleasantries in Swedish, his tone respectful but distant. It was a dance he had mastered, the art of balancing courtesy and distance.
The goblin attendant behind the counter, his eyes shrewd, acknowledged Ville, whose excitement was palpable. With a few swift hand motions, the attendant conjured a key, shimmering with magical runes. Ville's eyes widened as he accepted the key, realising the weight of his newfound responsibility.
While Teodor observed the bank's opulence with quiet fascination, August, always the mischief-maker, slipped into view. His presence was like a sudden storm, disrupting the calm. Jannik's jaw clenched at the sight of him. The unexpected encounter ignited a spark of irritation within him, but he kept his composure, choosing silence over confrontation.
Following their banking business, a new adventure awaited them—the ride to the vaults. Guided by goblins, they stepped onto a small, ornate cart waiting on a track. The cart moved smoothly, gliding through the bank's labyrinthine corridors. The air crackled with magic, and the walls whispered secrets of ancient wizarding fortunes.
Jannik's fingers traced the cool surface of the cart, lost in thought as they journeyed deeper into the heart of the bank. Ville and Teodor chatted animatedly about the wonders they had seen in Skugggatan. August, his face a picture of false innocence, asked questions about the bank, his curiosity veiling his true motives. Though Jannik was sure he'd been there hundreds of times, the Goblin still answered his questions, a feral look on his face.
As the cart accelerated, they descended into the vaults, passing rows of imposing doors, each guarding the treasures of Sweden's magical elite. The thrill of the ride, combined with the sense of history and power, left an indelible mark on Jannik. Even in this moment, amidst the wonders of wizarding banking, he couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that their world was on the cusp of change, and not all of it would be for the better.
Still, he took great pleasure in Ville's happiness. He was still on the fence about Teodor, but now that he was pretending along with them that they were twins, he'd need to treat them both equally. It wasn't hard, as they were quite the pair, but deep down, he struggled.
Skugggatan stretched before them, a realm where magic was tangible, and possibilities seemed endless. Their first destination was Magisk Bokhandel, a sanctuary of ancient wisdom and enchantment. The door, adorned with intricate symbols, creaked open, and they entered a realm of boundless knowledge.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of aged parchment and mystical ink. Shelves towered toward the ceiling, their wooden frames groaning under the weight of countless tomes. Ville's eyes sparkled with wonder as he traced his fingers over the spines of spell books, each promising adventures yet to be unfolded. Teodor, his curiosity piqued, found himself drawn to a section on alchemy, his fingers caressing the pages as if seeking the hidden secrets within. Jannik, though reserved, couldn't help but be entranced by the quills, their nibs dipped in ever-changing hues of ink.
Amidst the shelves, they shared hushed conversations, voices blending with the soft rustle of turning pages. Ville's laughter mingled with the ancient whispers of magic, and Teodor's eyes glowed with the excitement of a scholar unearthing hidden truths. While guiding his brothers, Jannik found solace in the tranquillity of the bookstore. It was not just a shop; it was a haven, a place where their journey into the magical world truly began.
In Magisk Bokhandel, amidst the scent of knowledge and the quiet hum of enchantments, the trio embarked on a voyage of discovery, their shared excitement weaving a tapestry of anticipation for the wonders yet to come. The bookstore, a sanctuary of magic, became the foundation upon which their magical journey was built, a testament to the extraordinary adventures that awaited them.
"Here, you will need the first year books!" Jannik called out to Ville and Teodor, who nodded and ran up to him. "Nordic Spells and Charms: Volume I."
While the boys crowded around the books for First Years, Jannik glanced over at August, who, as per usual, was acting extremely suspicious.
Deciding to spy on him, Jannik approached silently, his sharp eyes drawn to August. Amongst the rows of books, where seventh-year tomes should have been his focus, August was engrossed in fourth-year volumes.
Brows furrowing with confusion, Jannik observed as August continued his peculiar selections, his fingers tracing over titles meant for students much younger than him. Ville and Teodor, sensing something was amiss, exchanged concerned glances with Jannik, their shared unease forming an unspoken question between them.
Torn between curiosity and suspicion, Jannik maintained his vigilance, his eyes following August's every move. Jannik's confusion deepened with each book August added to his pile. Why would someone well-versed in magic's complexities linger among the basics? The answer eluded him, leaving a disquieting sense of foreboding in its wake.
It was worse when August bought the fourth year books, leaving the seventh-year books behind.
Their shared unease hung in the air like a heavy fog as they left the bookstore, the door's chime echoing their unresolved questions. The trio moved forward, their footsteps heavy with the weight of uncertainty. The mystery of August's strange behaviour lingered, casting a shadow over their otherwise magical day, reminding them that not everything in their world was as it seemed.
And this time, when August followed them, Jannik purposefully slowed his steps, allowing the boy to draw even to them.
He pretended not to see the look of gratefulness August aimed at him.
"Stjärnklädd och Trådarnas should be our next stop." Jannik said, staring at the list and strolling towards the shop.
Ville and Teodor were arguing about something while August shuffled along, not meeting anyone's gaze.
When they entered the clothing store, the air was steeped in the scent of delicate fabrics, and the rustle of robes being fitted echoed softly throughout the place. Here, within the tapestry of exquisite uniforms, Jannik observed a display that resonated with the heritage and pride of Durmstrang.
In the heart of Stjärnklädd och Trådarnas, the Durmstrang uniforms stood as a testament to timeless elegance and tradition. For the boys, the ensemble featured tailored black pants and a crisp white shirt, a canvas of formality. Around their collars, ties adorned in black and white stripes hung neatly, symbolising unity within diversity.
The focal point was the sophisticated jacket, skilfully crafted to blend style with functionality. The deep black fabric formed a graceful, curved silhouette, enhancing the wearer's poise. Delicate white stitching traced the jacket's contours, adding a touch of sophistication. On the left breast side, the school emblem, an Ice Phoenix rendered in silver, blue, and white, gleamed proudly, symbolising resilience and magic. Two silver buttons secured the jacket, their gleam accentuating the garment with an air of authority. A subtle white line added detail just above the cuffs, complemented by three white buttons, signifying refinement.
The elegance extended to the girls' uniform, with a tastefully inverted black and white palette. The ivory/white jacket boasted a black stitch outline, accentuating its contours. The plaid skirt, in a modest mid-thigh length, featured a tasteful pattern of black and white, harmonising with the tie for a touch of sophistication.
Both versions of the jacket featured cuffs adorned with buttons—black for girls, adding a touch of contrast, and white for boys, symbolising unity amid differences. Pockets on either side provided practicality without compromising the ensemble's elegance.
Amidst the enchanting ambience of the store, the uniforms stood as a symbol of the vibrant journey awaiting each student at Durmstrang. The Ice Phoenix emblem, woven into the fabric of the jacket and tie, represented not only the school's legacy but also the promise of shared experiences and enduring friendships in the magical world of Durmstrang.
Only moments after Ville stepped onto the stool, Jannik observed a new figure entering the store. A tall and lissom boy, possessing forest green eyes that shimmered with curiosity. His lips were a deep shade of cherry red, and a crown of dark brown hair framed his face. Freckles were everywhere, but rather than make him look spotty, they added to his ensemble, appearing more adorable than anything.
He exuded an air of elegance, and his every movement was imbued with grace and poise.
Strangely, despite the weather, the boy wore a beanie, a smidgen of his dark brown hair poking out. His top was a red melange hoodie with white strings swinging back and forth as he walked. The hood lay comfortably against his back, and though he wore jeans, they were clearly high class. On his wrist was a leather wristlet, circling his thin wrist twice over. He wore white and silver high tops that added a strange sophistication to him despite his basic look.
The outfit accentuated his slender frame, his clothes perfectly complementing his suave demeanour. Jannik observed Ville staring before quickly looking away, entrancing himself everywhere except to this boy.
Interesting.
"Durmstrang, isn't it?" the boy enquired, his voice filled with genuine interest, oblivious to the royal presence before him and the way Ville was shy and uncomfortable.
Ville, poised in his polished black jacket, met Wilhelm's gaze eventually with a warm smile. "Y-yes, Durmstrang," Ville stuttered, his voice blending timidity and approachability.
"I'm Wilhelm." The boy said, puffing his chest out.
Ville nodded and, trying to find something to say, blurted, "The Ice Phoenix, our emblem, symbolises our resilience and commitment to magical excellence!" he clearly had nothing of value to express, but the boy didn't seem perturbed. Instead, his eyes widened in honest surprise, a flicker of awe dancing in their depths. "The Ice Phoenix... such an honourable emblem," he remarked back, his voice shimmering with reverence. "I've heard stories, but to meet someone from Durmstrang is an honour."
"I've not been there yet; it's my First Year," Ville whispered. "My brother Jannik, though, he's been already."
The boy looked towards where Ville pointed, and Jannik inclined his head.
"I-I'm Ville."
The boy smiled and then introduced himself with a friendly smile, his forest green eyes alight with interest. "I'm Wilhelm," he said again, clearly not minding to repeat himself. He extended his hand. "It's intriguing to meet fellow students from Durmstrang before the school year begins. Tell me, Ville, Jannik, what excites you most about our upcoming journey?"
"I guess getting sorted into our houses," Ville responded. "This is Teodor," he added, gesturing at his brother, who had remained partially hidden.
Jannik observed their exchange, his coffee momentarily forgotten.
He had forgotten what it was like to meet new people and the excitement of the newness of going to a new school. Once you hit the second year, it was never like the first.
The Wand shop, nestled in the heart of the magical district, was known simply as "Elda's Enchantments," a name whispered with reverence among wizarding folk. With her long years of experience, Elda was a master at discerning the nuances of her clientele.
The door to the wand maker's shop creaked open, ushering Ville, Teodor, Jannik, and the enigmatic August into a small, dimly lit room. The air was thick with the aroma of aged wood and the subtle hum of magic. Elda, a blind woman with an aura of mystique, stood in the centre, her presence commanding immediate respect.
She turned her head slightly as if catching a scent in the wind, and a knowing smile curved her lips. "Ah, I sense the presence of young wizards," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "The air tells me much about those who enter."
Ville raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You can tell just from the air?"
The wand maker nodded, her sightless eyes focused in their direction. "It carries the essence of those who pass through my door. I can sense the companionship of siblings. The connection is undeniable."
Ville and Teodor exchanged curious glances, acknowledging the keen insight of the blind wand maker.
"Ah! August Voss," Elda's voice resonated through the room, rich with recognition. "You got the Willow wand, ten and a half inches, with a core of Wampus Cat Hair. A wand for those with intuition, empathy, and a strong sense of justice. A fine choice, August. It chose you four years ago and still resonates with your essence."
Jannik watched as August stiffened, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. Elda, however, seemed to pick up on something more profound, her brows furrowing slightly. "You're being groomed," she stated abruptly, her tone sharp. Before Jannik could react, he bolted out of the store, leaving the lingering words hanging in the air.
Four years ago? How is that possible?
Elda's attention shifted to Jannik, her milky eyes focusing on him even though she couldn't physically see. "And you, young one," she said softly, breaking the tension that August had left behind. "You have the Cherry wand, eleven inches, with a core of Dragon Heartstring. A wand for artists and musicians, possessive and protective, yet creative and imaginative. A powerful combination."
Ignoring her, Jannik felt a chill creep down his spine as he thought about Elda's words regarding August. Being groomed? What did she mean? His mind buzzed with unanswered questions, a puzzle he couldn't entirely solve.
The encounter left him with a sense of unease, a nagging feeling that something significant had just transpired. As he stepped out of Elda's Enchantments for a breath of fresh air, he couldn't shake off the suspicion that August wasn't who he claimed to be.
The air inside Elda's Enchantments crackled with magical energy, the feeling of dozens of wands and various magical parts buzzing and humming around them.
Teodor approached the cluttered table laden with wands. Each piece of wood seemed to hum eagerly, waiting for the right match. Elda, the blind wand maker, expertly guided Teodor through the selection, her fingers gliding over the wands with a practised grace.
Wands were lifted and then returned, the table slowly filling with various woods and cores. Elda, her senses attuned to the subtle energies around her, hesitated. Her clouded eyes flickered with something akin to realisation. "Ah, I sense a Parselmouth," she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper. "An intriguing gift, one that requires a unique connection." She sniffed again. "Two Parselmouth's? How fascinating." She licked her lips. "I know just what to give you."
Elda's slender fingers reached for a particular wand, its surface smooth and unassuming. She placed it delicately into Teodor's hand, holding it alongside him momentarily as she paused to articulate her words, and the room held its breath, waiting.
Elda's fingers traced the contours of the wand, her touch gentle yet purposeful. "A unique combination, this one," she murmured, her clouded eyes distant as if seeing into a realm of ancient magic. "Birchwood, known for its elegance and new beginnings, is a perfect match for your rebirth, Teodor."
Teodor's eyes widened, a mix of wonder and understanding in his gaze. "Birch," he repeated, almost in awe.
"Yes," Elda continued, her voice taking on a melodic quality. "But this wand holds more secrets. Its core blends Thestral Tail Hair and Horned Serpent Horn Core. The Thestral Tail Hair represents your past, your connection to death, a reminder of the shadows you've traversed. And the Horned Serpent Horn Core, a testament to your wisdom and your unique gift of Parseltongue."
Teodor nodded, absorbing the weight of the wand's components. "How long is it?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Ten and a half inches, flexible," Elda answered, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "A wand that adapts, a wand that understands the ever-changing nature of magic. It pulses with energy, responding to your every command. This, Teodor, is your wand—a conduit of elegance, history, and unparalleled power."
Teodor's fingers tightened around the wand, a sense of belonging washing over him. "Thank you," he said, his voice filled with gratitude.
Elda's smile deepened, her presence exuding ancient wisdom. "Remember, young wizard, the wand is but a tool. It is your heart, your intentions, and your mastery that truly shape the magic it wields."
Teodor's eyes widened in awe as he flicked the wand, casting a spell that burst into a dazzling display of sparks. The colours danced and flickered, reflecting the magic that now flowed between wizard and wand. For Jannik, it was a moment of happiness. One down, one to go.
(Ville)
Ville stood in the heart of Elda's Enchantments, surrounded by the mystical hum of magical energy. His eyes darted nervously over the countless wands adorning the walls, each a potential key to unlock his hidden powers. The room felt charged with anticipation, but deep inside, Ville grappled with a gnawing doubt.
Elda observed Ville with a keen understanding that transcended her lack of sight. She approached him, her movements graceful and assured, the years of wand-making experience etched into every line of her face. With a gentle touch, she placed the first wand into his hands, its polished surface cool against his skin.
A jolt of energy shot up his arm when he grasped the wand. Hope flickered in his chest but was just as quickly extinguished. The wand rejected him. Again and again, Elda offered different wands, and each one met with the same disheartening result. The room echoed with the clinks of wood against wood as rejected wands were returned to their places.
As time stretched on, Ville's confidence waned. His shoulders slumped, and a shadow of despair clouded his eyes. "I'll never be a wizard," he whispered, his voice cracking with defeat. Tears welled up, threatening to spill over, as he wiped his face in frustration.
Vases trembled and crashed, windows shattered into a thousand glittering shards, and books tumbled from their shelves in a whirlwind of paper and ink.
Elda stood unfazed amidst the pandemonium, commanding respect even in the face of the storm. "A stormy soul that begs for peace," she said, her voice cutting through the noise like a clear bell. "Let the chaos guide you, young wizard."
The room seemed to respond to her words, the turmoil focusing on a single point.
Ville's eyes widened as he spotted a box tucked away in a corner, seemingly untouched by the tempest. He approached it cautiously, his heart pounding with anticipation.
Inside the box lay a jewel-encrusted box, its surface etched with intricate patterns that seemed to dance in the flickering candlelight. Ville tentatively opened the box and noticed two tiny crystals jumping inside, trying to get at him as if in a drunken craze. One was a white pearl, and the other a dark brown one. Tilting his head to the side, he grabbed them in his hand. As if on cue, the storm outside subsided, leaving behind an eerie calm.
"Fascinating, Your Highness." The woman's voice whispered behind him.
Ville jumped, completely forgetting where he was. Shaking his head to clear it, he stood straight, suddenly feeling ready to try again.
"Let's see what you've got there," Elda said, gesturing at his hand.
Slowly, Ville opened his clenched fist, but the crystals were docile now, happy to be with him. "White Sea Pearl and Sandalwood." Elda lectured, pacing back and forth with a keen look. "White Sea Pearl for patience, power and love. And Sandalwood for purity, sensuality and strength." She nodded approvingly, looking Ville up and down. Shifting in his place, Ville turned away from his piercing blind stare.
"I'm ready to continue now," he whispered, keeping his head down.
Elda took his hand gently, led him away from the store forefront, and showed him the back of her store. "This is where I make my wands," she said. "Now, normally, this is unusual, as wizards generally find their wands within a few tries, some even on their first, but because you are great, the wand wants to be able to match with you, and thus, none here are good enough for you."
"I'm sorry," Ville mumbled, wringing his hands together.
"No, no," Elda said, waving away his apology. "Truthfully, I never get to make a custom wand; I'm really excited!"
Ville wiped at his eyes and stared at her.
"Okay, now, step all the way to the end and close your eyes," she instructed.
Ville obliged, walking carefully to not disturb the hundreds of boxes lying precariously on the shelves. "Now, move forward very slowly. This is all of my available wood samples for each wand. Lift your hand over each one, and just FEEL. Breathe in the feel of each with your aura, your spirit, be one with the wood, and when one calls to you, point to it, and I'll take it down."
And so Ville did. His hand hovered over each wood, but he didn't feel anything. And then suddenly, he felt a pull right over his heart, and he gasped. He pointed to it. "Here! This one."
Elda took it, and Ville moved forward as if to move on to the next part, but suddenly, he felt the pull again, this time in his mind. Ville tilted his head to the side and checked to see if he dreamt it. He didn't. "I-I feel it in this one, too," he said, wincing at his stammer.
"Nice!" Elda responded, taking that too. "Only very powerful wizards have more than one wood selection."
Ville nodded, keeping his eyes slammed shut.
"Now, see if there are any other woods that call to you, and we can move on."
Ville moved forward slowly, but nothing else called to him this time.
"That's it," he calls, shivering a bit.
"Great," Elda said. "Now move forward about ten steps, and then you will be in the core section, which is what fills your wand." Ville nodded and slowly stepped forward.
Ville was immediately engulfed with a feeling so strong he gasped. "This one!" he cried, but he wasn't done. The young boy could feel a calling even stronger to something on his left and fell towards it, grabbing it, panting. "This one, too!" he said, taking a deep breath. The trembles started slowly, but Ville pushed them aside. Now was not the time to have a weird panic attack. Emotions could be for later.
Shuddering even harder, Ville strolled forward, terrified that there would be more. And there was. The pull wasn't as strong, but nonetheless, it was there, like a soft sigh. "Ah," he said, a little sheepish. "I'm sorry, this too."
Elda was beside herself. "I can't believe you are finding all these wonderful elements, Ville! This will be my most spectacular wand ever!"
Ville could feel the blush rise to his cheeks. "Thank you," he whispered softly.
"Not to worry," came Elda's voice, not the least bit annoyed.
"Okay, great, I think I'm don-" Ville stops mid-sentence. Just as he was about to finish the line, he felt a very gentle tug calling to him on the bottom of the shelf, all the way in the back. It's soft and loving, like a kiss he never got. "This one, too," he breathed and pulled it close. He felt tears in his eyes but couldn't understand why. He wiped at it but couldn't help, and then, without warning, he began sobbing.
"Oh, honey..." Elda said, suddenly sounding very different than she had earlier. She hugged him, and then Jannik and Teodor were there, and they hugged him, too.
Ville sat down on the floor and just breathed. Elda waited patiently as if he didn't waste six hours of her day.
After what felt like another hour, Ville finally felt like he could get up, and he opened his eyes. He handed Elda the pinkish-red crystal he was holding and waited.
"Do you want me to explain what you took, Your Highness?" Elda asked as she rummaged around on her desk. He, Teodor and Jannik had sat down on the leather couch to wait as Elda figured out the pricing for his wand.
"Sure!" Ville said excitedly, no longer upset that he had found so many fascinating parts to his wand.
"Walnut is known for versatility and being adaptable. Based on what I feel about you, there have been some trying times in your past and a lot to adapt to. But you are versatile and easily merge with whatever comes at you."
Ville gaped at her. "Wow..."
A small smile fell over her face. "So, in this case, Walnut is actually perfect for you."
She moved on to the second wood that Ville had found. "The next wood you found was Rosewood."
Ville looked at her blankly. "Yes?" he said because she couldn't see him nodding.
"Rosewood is known for its enchanting fragrance and beautiful, dark reddish-brown hue. It is a rare and highly valued wood used in wand-making. The tree from which Rosewood is derived, belonging to the Dalbergia genus, is famed not only for its stunning appearance but also for its unique characteristic: it 'bleeds.'"
Ville paled. How often had he bled almost to death whilst at the Dursleys? Magic was terrifying sometimes in its accuracy.
"G-go on."
"When the tree is cut, it exudes a dark, aromatic resin, resembling droplets of blood. Rosewood wands are prized for their elegance and allure, making them a popular choice among witches and wizards who possess a magnetic charm and a knack for capturing the hearts of others."
Ville blushed deeper.
"Now, I can't know this for sure, only from what your aura says and how you've been since you arrived, but you
are charming and have a strange allure that seems not to have come into maturity yet."
Jannik gasped at this but covered his mouth when Ville and Teodor turned to stare at him.
"Sorry!" Jannik murmured.
"You are naturally charismatic, though in the past, no one has given you the opportunity to shine."
"I mean..." Ville blustered, glancing towards his brothers for help.
"Oh yes!" Teodor said, punching Ville in the shoulder. "He's very charming."
Ville sputtered like an angry cat. "Oh hush, you," he muttered, kicking Teodor in the leg.
"He's not wrong, Ville," Jannik said softly, moving a curl away from his forehead. "You're wonderful."
Elda chuckled.
"Wands crafted from Rosewood are said to enhance the wielder's persuasive abilities and add an aura of grace to their magical endeavours, making it a perfect match for those who seek to enchant and mesmerise with their spells."
Ville shook his head, amazed. "I love magic."
A genuine smile spread over Elda's face. "Indeed."
"Continue, please", Teodor requested, clearly just as curious as he and Jannik were.
"Ville, you picked three cores. Which is extremely unusual. You also picked various gemstones and crystals demanding your aura and soul."
Remembering the mess he made earlier, Ville groaned. "I'm sorry about the mess!"
"Not to worry, easily fixed."
"Which cores did he pick?" Jannik asked.
"Unicorn Hair, Veela Hair and Snallygaster Heartstring."
Jannik gasped again, the smile gone from his face. He was white as a ghost but offered no explanation.
Ville glanced at him, concerned, but Jannik looked away, forcing his eyes onto the blind wand maker.
"Alright," Ville said softly, "tell me please."
Elda paused briefly, closing her eyes as if formulating the words in her mind first. "Unicorn hair, a core that signifies innocence, purity, and gentleness. It seems to resonate with your kind and compassionate nature, Ville."
Ville shifted nervously on his feet. "I-I see. That makes sense, I suppose. But what about this Veela hair?"
"Elegance and finesse," Elda explained, her eyes twinkling with wisdom. "It represents qualities you possess, even if you're not fully aware of them yet. It foretells of your graceful charm and the perfect balance you'll strike between strength and gentleness as you grow into your magical abilities."
Ville's curiosity grew. "I didn't know I had Veela qualities. Elda smiled but didn't explain.
"What about this Snallygaster Heartstring?" he asked when Elda remained silent.
She smiled warmly, her confidence infectious. "The Snallygaster Heartstring is a testament to your adaptability and versatility, Ville. It mirrors your ability to navigate through challenges and embrace change with determination. This core recognises your resourcefulness, making it a fitting choice for a wizard of your unique calibre. It's also on a very high level, seeing as you have a wood base and a core base that represents this."
Ville decided not to think of what forced him to be adaptable and move on.
"What about all the gems and crystals?"
"Ah, the White Sea Pearl," Elda's eyes sparkled with knowledge. "It signifies purity, wisdom, and inner beauty. Much like the pearl hidden within its unassuming shell, it represents the hidden depths within you. Its luminescence reflects your untapped potential and the inner brilliance that shines when you embrace your true self."
Elda's fingers traced the smooth surface of the Sandalwood. "Sandalwood is known for its calming and grounding properties. It possesses a warm, comforting energy like your presence, Ville. Sandalwood will guide you in times of uncertainty, offering strength and stability to your magical endeavours. It will enhance your focus and help you maintain a steady resolve, ensuring that you navigate the challenges of the magical world with grace and resilience."
"And now, the Cherry Quartz crystal," Elda's voice softened with reverence. "This crystal is special, Ville. Its gentle pink hue symbolises love, healing, and emotional balance. The moment you felt its pull, like a kiss you never received, it revealed its purpose. Cherry Quartz will infuse your wand with love, compassion, and a deep sense of understanding. It will be a source of comfort during difficult times, reminding you of the power of kindness and empathy. With this crystal, your wand becomes a beacon of warmth and solace, reflecting your innate ability to bring light to the lives of others."
Ville stared at her in awe, utterly speechless.
"This combination of cores and crystals is not just a selection; it's a harmonious blend carefully chosen to resonate with your essence, ensuring this wand will be a true extension of your being."
There was a hush in the room after that, and silent tears fell down Ville's cheeks at all that he had learnt. He was unique, magic was extraordinary, and there was so much to life that he had yet to experience. And for the first time, Ville was comforted.
Two days before they were set to make their journey to Durmstrang, Jannik led his twin brothers, Ville and Teodor, through the bustling streets of their hometown, their excitement palpable in the crisp autumn air. The aroma of freshly baked pastries wafted from nearby shops, but their destination was a place far more enchanting—the Magiska Djurkamrater, the most renowned magical pet shop in Sweden.
Upon entering the shop, the three brothers were greeted by a warm golden light that danced on the myriad cages and enclosures. Creatures of all sizes and shapes peered at them with curious eyes, their magical auras shimmering in the air. Jannik, always the responsible elder brother, guided his younger siblings toward the counter, where an elderly witch with a kind smile awaited them.
"Välkommen till Magiska Djurkamrater. How can I assist you today?" the witch said, her voice as melodious as a songbird's.
"We're here to choose our magical companions for Durmstrang," Jannik announced proudly.
The witch nodded, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "Of course, of course. Choosing a magical companion is a significant moment for any young witch or wizard. Feel free to explore, and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."
As the brothers began their exploration, Teodor's sharp eyes caught sight of a slip of parchment pinned to a notice board—a copy of Durmstrang's pet policy. He waved Ville over, and the two read it together.
Durmstrang Institute for Magical Learning
Office of Magical Creatures
Dear Students and Parents,
We hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. As the new school year approaches, we would like to remind you of Durmstrang Institute's pet policy. We believe that the companionship of magical creatures enriches our students' lives. Still, it is imperative to ensure the safety and well-being of everyone within the school grounds.
Pet Policy:
Allowed Pets:
Non-venomous and non-dangerous magical creatures are permitted.
Owls, cats, dogs, and other common magical pets are allowed.
Any creature listed in the Ministry of Magic's Approved Magical Creatures Handbook (2023 Edition) is permissible.
Restricted Pets:
Any creature not listed in the Approved Magical Creatures Handbook must be approved by the Office of Magical Creatures before bringing it to school.
Large or aggressive creatures may be subject to evaluation and approval.
Prohibited Pets:
Venomous animals, including snakes, are strictly prohibited.
Creatures known for their high aggression or unpredictable behaviour are not allowed.
Any creature deemed a danger to the school community will not be permitted.
We appreciate your cooperation in adhering to these guidelines. The safety of our students is our top priority, and these regulations are in place to ensure a secure environment for everyone at Durmstrang.
If you have any questions or concerns regarding the pet policy, please do not hesitate to contact the Office of Magical Creatures. We look forward to welcoming our students and their magical companions to another enriching and magical school year.
Warm regards,
Professor Johannes Lidén
Head of the Office of Magical Creatures
Durmstrang Nordrake Academy of Sorcery
Ville's brows furrowed with concentration as he read the list of allowed and prohibited creatures. "No venomous pets allowed," he murmured, a touch of disappointment in his voice.
"I'm sorry you had to release Monty," Teodor whispered as they browsed the shelves, his sympathy evident in his eyes.
Ville's shoulders slumped slightly at the memory of his beloved snake being set free. "I miss him, but it's for the best. I hope he's happy out there," he replied, his voice filled with sadness.
Determined to brighten his brother's spirits, Jannik suggested, "Let's find you a new friend, something equally magnificent."
The shop was a treasure trove of magical creatures. Colourful birds flitted about, their melodies filling the air, while playful Kneazles pounced on sparkling toys. Ville's eyes widened in awe at seeing a majestic white, fluffy Persian cat with eyes as blue as the summer sky. He gently picked up the cat, feeling an instant connection as it nuzzled against his cheek.
"I think I've found my companion," Ville said, his voice filled with joy.
Meanwhile, Teodor's attention was drawn to a fierce Norwegian Elkhound, its coat blending earthy browns and blacks. The dog exuded an aura of loyalty and strength, and Teodor met its gaze respectfully. "This one," he declared, his determination mirrored in the dog's sharp eyes.
With their choices made, Jannik approached the counter, his heart swelling with pride for his brothers. "We'll take the cat and the dog," he said, his voice steady as he paid for their new companions.
As they left the pet shop, Ville cradled his white cat while Teodor's dog trotted proudly at his side. The bond between the brothers and their magical companions had been forged, marking the beginning of a new chapter in their lives. Little did they know, these magical creatures would become their steadfast friends, accompanying them through the adventures and challenges awaited at Durmstrang Institute.
The witch at the counter, observing their departure, whispered to herself, "May your companions bring you endless joy and unwavering loyalty, young ones. May your paths be blessed with magical wonders and unbreakable bonds." And with those words, she returned to her duties, a knowing smile on her lips, as if she foresaw the extraordinary journeys ahead for the three brothers and their newfound friends.
The evening of August 30th draped the castle in a gentle twilight glow. Jannik slowly walked with his mother, wanting to escape the moping that Ville was doing at home. He'd already had one full year at Durmstrang but would have family with him for the first time. If he was being honest, Jannik didn't know what to feel.
At this point, he had already got used to Ville and Teodor's presence despite their only being around for a little over a month.
To confuse his father, they continued pretending that Ville and Teodor were twins. And once Teodor cut his hair, they did look freakishly similar. In a strange sense of magical humour, Ville's height increased when the two decided to be twins, matching Teodor's long, lanky form. And now, the only difference separating them was their eyes. Teodor's were a startling pretty hazel colour, while Ville had a sparkling ebony that swept people off their feet. It was almost funny how Ville didn't notice how everyone stared at him.
He walked along hand-in-hand with his mother as they sat on the stone bench of the fountain. The water jumped in a dance of colour, falling neatly around the large circle behind them. The gentle splashing of water was the only sound in the quiet evening.
"What really happened with Dumbledore?" he finally asked once the silence started feeling stifling rather than comfortable.
"I duelled with him." the queen responded, curling her lips into a smile. "I wanted to kill him in all the nice, agonising ways I could." Her joviality disappeared. "I won the duel," she said. "And I told him that I would sue him according to the law and that he'd never be around children again."
"How did he react?" Jannik asked, interested.
"He just smiled at me in that really frustrating way of his and offered me a lemon drop. I wanted to curse him again at that. The man doesn't take anything seriously. There will likely be a trial, but we will need Ville and Taytay to go and testify."
Jannik frowned. "He must hold himself in high regard if he didn't even bother fleeing."
The queen nodded. "Indeed."
Jannik leaned back against the bench, enjoying how the ricochet of water lapped at his face, cooling him down.
"Come," his mother said, standing up and offering her arm. "Finish packing, and then we'll eat." Jannik nodded, kissing her offered hand. She smiled at him. "You'll be a perfect crown prince." She said.
Jannik turned away, so she missed how the smile disappeared off his face.
The walk back was silent, and though perhaps his mother was oblivious, Jannik was fuming. He didn't want to be crown prince. But he would never dare to say that out loud.
Needing to calm down, Jannik made his way to the roof.
The castle's roof boasted a marvel that enchanted anyone who saw it - a rooftop pool, a jewel of architectural elegance. Under the moon's soft glow, the water sparkled like a thousand diamonds. The pool's edges were adorned with intricately carved marble, and plush loungers beckoned invitingly around its perimeter.
Jannik stepped onto the marble platform encircling the pool and stripped bare, his skin catching the moonlight. The cool night air whispered across his skin as he walked to the water's edge. He glanced at the reflection of the starlit sky in the clear pool, the ripples creating a mesmerising dance of light and shadow.
With a determined breath, Jannik dived in. The water embraced him, its temperature just right, a perfect balance between coolness and warmth. He sliced through the surface, his body moving with practised grace. Each stroke propelled him forward, the water parting effortlessly before him. The tranquil atmosphere of the night embraced him, the silence broken only by the soft splashes of his movements.
The architecture of the rooftop pool was nothing short of luxurious. Marble pillars surrounded the pool, their surfaces adorned with delicate carvings depicting ancient magical symbols. Tall potted plants graced the corners, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze. Overhead, a glass canopy revealed the night sky, stars twinkling like diamonds set against the velvet backdrop of the firmament.
As Jannik swam, the city lights below glowed in the distance, painting the scene with a warm, golden hue. The contrast between the quiet elegance of the rooftop and the distant city's bustling energy was palpable. The water caressed his skin like a lover's touch, and for a moment, he forgot the weight of the secrets that burdened him.
With each stroke, he propelled himself through the water, the rhythmic sound of his breathing synchronising with the gentle lapping of the pool. The moon cast a silvery glow across his path, illuminating his way like a celestial guide. For a brief moment, the world beyond the rooftop ceased to exist, leaving him in a suspended state of serenity.
As he swam, he pondered the mysteries that enveloped his family. The water, like a confidant, held his thoughts in its embrace. Tomorrow, he would face the challenges that awaited him, but for now, he found solace in the serene sanctuary of the rooftop pool.
When the gong rang for dinner, and the castle was illuminated in the soft glow of lanterns, he descended, the water droplets still clinging to his skin. In a flair of rebellion, Jannik threw on a pair of shorts, not bothering with a shirt. He knew his father wouldn't care about whether or not he was uncomfortable, so it was time to show him that he, too, didn't care.
His anger simmering beneath his skin, Jannik barely touched his food, his gaze fixed on August, who sat in his father's lap. Again.
To his surprise, however, no one commented on his attire. He could see the servants gossiping amongst themselves, but he didn't care. At the very least, he had hoped to get a reaction from his mother. But she said nothing.
With a pang, he understood why. He wouldn't speak either if his ex, who cheated on him, was there with the person he had cheated on him with.
After letting his temper flare for a while, Jannik had enough. He flew to his feet, his chair clattering as the feet returned to the floor.
Recalling everything from the shopping trip a few weeks earlier, he realised he never confronted August about his age.
Well, now was as good time as any. But still, despite Jannik's performance of turning his chair over, no one looked at him.
"Argh!" He screamed, frustrated.
The dining room buzzed with the clink of silverware, but the usual murmur of conversation was absent. However, Jannik's eyes were locked on August, who sat calmly, his eyes flickering with fear and defiance. It seemed he at least realised that something was about to go down.
Good.
The revelation that August might be younger than they believed burned in Jannik's chest like a fiery dragon.
With a surge of frustration, Jannik slammed his palm on the table, causing the silverware to clatter. "August," he growled, his voice tight with anger, "Come with me. Now."
August's eyes widened in surprise, and he glanced at their father, seeking reassurance. Henrik, his brows furrowed, said, "August, stay where you are."
Jannik's hands curled into fists at his sides. "Four years ago," he hissed, locking eyes with his August and holding his hand up as if holding a wand. The words hung heavy in the air, a reminder of Elda's cryptic message at the wand store. The colour still remaining in August's face disappeared.
August seemed to understand the gravity of Jannik's words. His defiance wavered, and he reluctantly pushed himself away from the table.
"I'll be back," August said to their father, his voice shaky.
"No," Jannik said forcefully. "You won't be."
"Jannik, mind your tongue!" Henrik snapped, but Jannik easily tuned him out.
As Jannik turned on his heel and stormed out of the dining room, August followed in his wake, leaving behind a room plunged into silence, the weight of unspoken truths lingering in the air.
Locked in the privacy of Jannik's bedroom, the moment stretched, charged with tension. Jannik's fist lashed out, aiming for August's jaw, a surge of anger propelling the blow. August, surprisingly agile, dodged to the side, his movements fluid and graceful.
"You think violence will solve everything?" August's voice cut through the air, his eyes narrowing in determination. His body shifted into a defensive stance, ready to counter any attack.
Jannik's muscles tensed, his frustration boiling over. He lunged forward, a rapid combination of punches and kicks, each strike calculated and powerful. August, however, deftly blocked and evaded, his movements almost dance-like in their precision.
"You're not the only one with secrets," August declared, his voice steady despite the chaos of their movements. With a sudden twist, he countered Jannik's onslaught, sending him stumbling backwards.
Jannik recovered, his breaths heavy with exertion. He circled August, eyes locked on his opponent. In a surge of determination, he launched another attack, his fists a blur of motion. August parried each blow, his movements almost anticipatory, as if he could read Jannik's intentions before he acted.
Their dance of combat continued a flurry of strikes and counters. Jannik's irritation transformed into focus, his anger channelled into each move. August, too, seemed to draw strength from the confrontation, his resolve unyielding.
With a final, swift strike, Jannik managed to tackle August, sending him falling to the ground. The room fell into a heavy silence, both of them panting, their chests rising and falling with the intensity of their clash.
"You can't solve this with violence," August said, his voice softer now, his eyes holding a glimmer of understanding.
Jannik, fists still clenched, nodded slowly. For the first time, he realised there might be more to August than met the eye. The truth, it seemed, was far more complicated than he had ever imagined.
"Why did you lie?" Jannik asked, sitting back against August's thighs. The boy didn't push him off but did sit back against the wall.
"I don't know what you're talking about," August said smoothly, playing with a thread on his shirt.
Jannik sighed. "Elda said you bought your wand four years ago."
"She's obviously loony." August countered.
"Sure, then why did you buy fourth year books?"
"Stalker much?" August teased but sighed reluctantly when Jannik crossed his arms.
"Does my dad know you're fourteen?"
The flicker of unease crossed over August's features.
"Shit, August! That's illegal!"
And suddenly August is crying.
As August's shoulders shook with silent sobs, Jannik stood there, a sense of unease gnawing at him. He had no experience in dealing with tears nor understanding how to navigate the emotions that August was revealing. For a moment, he felt utterly out of his depth, as if facing a language he couldn't comprehend. Jannik's lack of empathy left him uncertain of how to react. So he simply stood in silence, a witness to emotions that felt foreign and uncomfortable.
"So you really are fourteen." He said instead, confirming what he had guessed earlier despite how confidently he had said it.
"Yes," August whispers.
"That's what she meant by grooming."
"Yes"
"My father groomed you."
Silence, then very quietly. "Yes."
Jannik knew he should say more, question why he had pretended to be fifteen at twelve, and ask why his father had felt the need to make any relationship. Even at fifteen, getting consent for anything was barely legal. His questions overwhelmed his answers, but at the very least, he couldn't allow August near his father again.
With another sigh, Jannik leans forward to propel himself off August and pulls the other boy to his feet. They sit silently because Jannik has no idea what to say or do. He feels confused because there's nothing he can do. His father is a king.
Shuddering, Jannik forced every other thought out of his mind.
"Just stay here for the night." He says finally. "No one will bother you in my room."
"Alright," August whispered.
"Tomorrow, we leave for Durmstrang."
"Thank you," August said, grabbing Jannik's hand and squeezing it.
Jannik didn't reply.
The air hung heavy with unspoken words as the Olsens made their way from the castle to the terminal. Despite his royal upbringing, Jannik was not spared the intensity of the moment. His sharp eyes darted around, assessing every movement, every glance. His younger brothers, Ville and Teodor, walked beside him, oblivious to the undercurrents of tension.
August, a presence he had vowed to protect, trailed on his left. Jannik's hand rested firmly on the boy's shoulder, subtly shielding him from the rest of the family. August, older yet vulnerable, didn't belong to their bloodline. Still, in that moment, Jannik considered him closer than many of his kin.
His mother walked gracefully ahead, her face a mask of regality. Beside her, his father's posture was rigid, his gaze distant. The air seemed to crackle with untold secrets. Jannik's heart, heavy with the burden of knowledge, beat in tandem with the pounding hooves of the Ice Phoenix-carved Durmstrang carriage that awaited them.
In the carriage, the atmosphere remained icy. Formal greetings were exchanged, but the warmth of familial affection was conspicuously absent. Jannik's stare flickered to August, who sat stiffly, his eyes guarded. There was a shared understanding between them, a silent pact of protection against the unspoken threats that lingered in their shared world.
The Ice Phoenix insignia on the carriage gleamed, reflecting the pale light of the Nordic sun. It was a symbol of power, of their lineage, yet it felt more like a shackle than an emblem of pride at that moment. As they rolled towards the Flight Carriage Terminal, Jannik's grip on August's shoulder tightened subtly, a silent reassurance amidst the storm of emotions that raged within him.
Jannik's keen eyes scanned the bustling terminal, searching for familiar faces among the sea of students. As the crowd shifted, he spotted his friends from the previous year—Erik, a boy with a perpetual grin; Sofia, whose laughter was infectious; and Arvid, the quiet but thoughtful one. Relief washed over him as he made his way toward them, his steps quickening with a sense of familiarity and belonging.
"Erik, Sofia, Arvid!" Jannik called out, his voice cutting through the noise of the terminal. The trio turned, their faces lighting up with recognition and warmth.
"Jannik!" Erik exclaimed, clapping him on the shoulder. "How was your summer? Ours was great. We went on a camping trip near the mountains."
Sofia chimed in, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "I visited my grandparents in the countryside. It was so peaceful there, a perfect break from the city."
Arvid, as usual, spoke with a calm demeanour. "I spent most of my time reading. Found some fascinating books in the old bookstore downtown."
Jannik shared a genuine smile with his friends, the knot of tension in his chest loosening. In their familiar presence, he felt a sense of camaraderie and reassurance. They exchanged stories of their summer adventures, laughter punctuating their conversation, a stark contrast to the sombre atmosphere lingering with his family.
As the minutes ticked away, the group of friends became a sanctuary of shared experiences and laughter. Amid the chaos of the terminal, they found solace in one another.
When the carriage train's warning bell chimed, signalling the imminent departure, Jannik and his friends stood together, their anticipation for the new school year overshadowing any lingering worries. With a final round of laughter and well-wishes, they boarded the carriage, their friendship a beacon of support in the face of the unknown. As the train set off, Jannik gazed out the window, excitement and determination lighting his eyes. He was ready to face whatever challenges awaited at Durmstrang, fortified by the strength of friendship and the unwavering support of his companions.
(Ville)
As the carriage rolled on through the afternoon, Ville watched mournfully through the window at the picturesque landscape slipping past. Rolling grasslands dotted with farmsteads gradually gave way to dense forests as the road wound higher into mountainous regions. Majestic peaks rose in the distance, snowcapped this late into summer, their stony slopes patched with vibrant foliage bursting with the last colours of a dying season.
Any other time, Ville would delight in the natural beauty streaming by, drinking in details to share eagerly with his family. But now, it only deepened the hollow ache within, reminding him poignantly of simpler times exploring the wild places near his home. A home now lost to the ever-increasing miles carrying him further into unfamiliar territories. The way to Norway, at least, was filled with stunning things that were easy on the eyes.
Within the carriage, an air of restless boredom had settled over the older students. Playing games and chattering had long since grown stale, and stir-craziness mounted as the long afternoon dragged on. Some threw balled-up parchment and sweets at one another, disrupting those trying to read or nap.
Ville couldn't understand why they bothered staying with younger first years when they could have easily found their own carriage to sit in. Still, Jannik had come by with some friends, so Ville wasn't going to be rude and send them away. After all, Jannik was special to him. Even if Jannik wasn't focusing on him, having him there at all was comforting.
Jannik laughed and joined in their antics, eager as ever to impress and gain acceptance from the popular group. But Teodor kept to himself, nose buried attentively in a volume of runic spells, seemingly immune to the commotion around him. Neither seemed to notice Ville wilting further into himself with each peal of disparaging laughter piercing the air, painfully recalling memories he'd rather forget just by hearing their tones. They weren't even talking about him! The mocking laughter, however, reminded him of Dudley and his friends whenever they had gone Harry Hunting.
Eventually, the crude amusement turned towards more accessible targets. One lanky boy with straw-coloured hair eyed Ville curled up forlornly by the window; a spider-webbed map cradled uselessly in his hands as he traced imaginary routes home.
"Still pining for mother's tit, are we?" He sneered, earning jeering chuckles. "I'd wager my allowance he won't last a fortnight before running whimpering back."
More taunts followed in similar vain, pulling cruel smiles from onlookers going along for laughs, if nothing else. All except Teodor, who frowned disapprovingly over his book without intervening. Only Jannik hesitated, torn between allegiance to his friend group and protecting his vulnerable sibling. Anxious eyes darted between Ville, shrinking into himself, and the blonde instigator egging the harassment on.
"Aw, you'll upset his delicate sensibilities!" The boy cooed in a faux baby voice, eliciting snickers. Leaning over the back of Ville's seat, he snarled low in his ear, "Perhaps if you weren't such a crybaby bitch, people might actually like you."
Hot tears welled instantly, spilling silently down Ville's cheeks as he struggled to maintain composure under the torment. But seeing his distress only brought fresh amusement to the onlookers, fuelling the bully's cruelty.
That was the final straw for Jannik, who stood defiantly. "Enough Tyr. Leave him be."
Tyr rounded on him with a sneer. "Oh? Gone soft, have we? I thought Durmstrang bred tougher stock than milksop mama's boys."
The barb struck home, reminding Jannik all too clearly of his duty to prove himself a man and crown prince for his family. Under the watchful gazes of his peers, loyalty wavered, and with it came a stinging retort.
"He'll learn." Jannik glared at Ville with disappointment. "Can't coddle him forever."
Hurt blossomed like frostbite across Ville's heart at his brother's abandonment. Now truly alone, fat tears rolled freely as harsh laughter drowned out whispered pleas for it all to end.
At that moment, a calm, steady voice pierced the chaos. "Enough. You've had your fun; now leave him be." Teodor had his wand lifted in his hand, staring the boy down with such venomous animosity Ville shuddered. The boys laughed at him, thinking of what a first year could possibly do, but Ville knew. The boy had once been Voldemort, after all.
Jannik seemed to realise this, too, and he attempted to usher his friends out. They ignored him.
All eyes turned to Teodor, who fixed each with an even stare from behind his book, revealing nothing but resolve. Silence hung thick in the charged air until Tyr scoffed and turned away, dismissing further confrontation now the game had lost its fun. The crowd dispersed back to their routines, but the damage was done.
Darkness fell like a shroud outside, mirroring the shadows creeping over Ville's soul. He huddled miserably, staring into nothing, wishing only to fade from existence, as sobs racked his slight frame. A darkened shape settled beside him, draping an arm consolingly over quivering shoulders.
"They're ignorant and know not of what they do. Their cruelty says more of their own hearts than yours," soothed Teodor softly. His steady presence anchored Ville amidst the maelstrom, offering silent refuge in shared understanding beyond words.
"Everything will be alright, Darling."
Ville just nodded, not believing it for a second.
As the carriage train rumbled on, Jannik's mind was a tempest of fearful contemplation. He knew he had messed up profoundly, allowing his loyalty to his friends cloud his responsibility to protect his brothers. The gravity of his mistake weighed on him like a leaden cloak, and he resolved to beg Ville's forgiveness, even if it meant getting on his knees.
Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and returned to his brother's compartment. His heart hammered in his chest, anxiety tightening its grip with every step. When he arrived, however, he found the cabin full of unfamiliar faces among only three familiar ones.
Jannik hesitated momentarily before clearing his throat, his voice laden with urgency and remorse. "I'm sorry for barging in like this," he began, his eyes moving from Ville to the others. "But I need to explain something important. My brothers mean everything to me. They're not just family; they're my world. And I failed them today."
He gestured towards Ville and Teodor, his expression blending apology and determination. "Ville, Teodor, you're my flesh and blood. I let you down, and I can't even express how deeply sorry I am. I should've protected you, but I didn't, and I won't blame you if you can't forgive me."
With his plea hanging in the air, Jannik turned his attention to the strangers in the compartment. The first was Wilhelm, the boy from the clothing shop they had met a week earlier. He looked up with a steely-eyed regard that made Jannik gulp. It seemed Wilhelm was fiercely loyal, more perhaps, than he was. His sharp features and quiet confidence charged a feeling of respect to the boy. Next to him sat a boy with large Asian eyes. He appeared observant, his demeanour thoughtful. His hair was also a pretty shade mix of cobalt and aqua blue. The look he gave off was so soft and gentle that Jannik didn't feel the need to feel scared of him. That was until suddenly, the boy shifted before his eyes, growing taller, fiercer, and very, very scary; even his hair colour changed.
Jannik stepped back, crashing against the door, lifting his hands up in a defeatist way, forcing himself not to cower.
His eyes slid over the last three kids in the carriage. At least two were Asian, one a girl with long flowing hair and the other another boy. The final was also a girl, her tanned skin similar to his own, her yellowish-blond hair cascading down her back in tight curls, her honey-coloured eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and caution.
Dear Merlin, what did he get himself into?
"I'm Jannik," he said, his voice softening with sincerity, hoping to calm at least the Metamorphmagus in the cabin. "I owe you all an explanation. My loyalty to my brothers is unshakable. Or at least it had been. They've been through more than anyone can imagine, and I can't let them face any more pain alone. Please understand, I have to make things right with them."
The strangers exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them as they assessed Jannik's words. There was a shared recognition in their eyes, an acknowledgement of the strength of family bonds.
Ville, after a moment's hesitation, nodded slightly, his expression softening. Teodor, too, seemed to relent, his disapproving gaze shifting to one of cautious hope. It was a small, fragile step toward forgiveness, but for Jannik, it was a glimmer of redemption.
Feeling relief and determination, Jannik continued his voice firm. "I promise I'll make it up to you both, no matter what it takes. We're in this together, as a family."
With those words hanging in the air, the atmosphere in the compartment shifted. There was a palpable sense of understanding, an unspoken agreement to move forward as a united front.
He sat down next to Ville and hugged him. At first, Ville was still like a statue, refusing to embrace Jannik despite his apology. But Jannik persisted. He was sure that if he relented now, there was a possibility that he'd never again get the fluidity and ease with Ville. So he held on. After what felt like an hour, with the rest of the kids shifting uncomfortably in their seats, Ville finally caved, melting into the nuzzle.
Jannik released a breath he didn't realise he was holding. He tightened his hold on Ville, managing to smile for the first time in hours.
The compartment was silenced again when Jannik realised he had yet to keep his promise.
"Ville! Teodor! I just realised I need to tell you about the houses!"
Ville inclined his head, listening silently as Jannik began to speak.
"Let me tell you about all the traits of each house," Jannik said, his eyes sparkling enthusiastically. "First, there's Eld, the Fire House, Braendal. It's all about passion, desire, and power. The symbol? A Fire Wolf. These students are bold, assertive, and fiercely loyal. Imagine a pack of wolves, always protecting their own. Their house colour is a vibrant, fiery orange, mirroring their intense energy."
"Then we have Vatten, the Water House, Sjöstrand," Jannik continued, his tone softening. "Here, qualities like empathy, intuition, and adaptability reign supreme. The Water Dolphin represents them, graceful and compassionate. Members of Sjöstrand are like tranquil lakes, offering clarity and understanding. Their color? Light Turquoise, like moonlit waters, reflecting their calming presence."
"Luft, the Air House, or Skyhavn, is for the intellectuals and communicators," Jannik explained, his eyes lifting the imaginary sky. "Their symbol is the Air Cloud Hawk, swift and perceptive. Picture a group of these hawks soaring high, exploring the vast expanse of knowledge. These students are creative thinkers, strategists, and natural leaders. Diamond Silver signifies their boundless curiosity."
"Jord, the Earth House, Stenheim, embodies stability and nourishment," Jannik continued, his voice steady. "The Earth Deer is their symbol, gentle yet resilient. Like ancient trees, they provide a nurturing environment for all. Earth House students are practical, reliable, and patient, making them the cornerstone of our school. Their color? Fern Green, symbolising the richness of the earth."
"And finally, there's Eter, the Ether House, Aethoria," Jannik said, his tone hushed with reverence. "Representing harmony, wisdom, and transcendence, Ether House students are like spiritual guides. Their symbol, the Fruit Dove, is a messenger of peace and love. They're attuned to the cosmic forces, seekers of truth. Their house shimmers in Iridescent White, signifying their connection to the divine."
As Jannik spoke, he could see that Ville and Teodor listened attentively, their imaginations painting vivid pictures of each house and its unique essence. The magical world of Durmstrang lay before them, a tapestry of diverse souls woven into the fabric of the elemental houses. It was nice to see that all the first years were excited about something he already knew of.
"Your Eld, right?" Ville asked, tilting his head to the side as he thought.
"Yes, Braendal," Jannik said, a sad smile on his face. "But I definitely wasn't true to my house today, and I'm sorry for that."
Their tender moment was abruptly shattered by a thunderous crack splitting the night. The carriage jerked sharply, tilting as one side dipped suddenly lower. Shouts of alarm rose amidst the commotion of bags and bodies sliding across the slick benches. Out the window, a thick bank of fog had rolled in, reducing visibility to mere centimetres in the pale light struggling to pierce the soupy murk. The abrupt jolt of the carriage threw everyone into a frenzy, and frightened voices filled the air. Outside, the world had transformed into a thick, impenetrable mist, swallowing the landscape whole.
Somehow, they had strayed from the precise mountain pass into treacherous rocky terrain obscured until too late. In the chaos, no one saw what had caused their lethal malfunction, but its effects were all too apparent — one wheel had shattered, leaving them stranded and at the whims of forces beyond their control.
During the chaos, Jannik's mind raced with concern. The haze was dense, and the obscurity of their surroundings was unsettling. Yet, he refused to succumb to panic, knowing he had his brothers and newfound friends to protect.
As the initial shock wore off, Jannik took charge, his voice cutting through the clamour. "Stay together!" he shouted, herding his brothers and their companions into a huddle. "We need to assess the situation."
Wilhelm, the observant one, ventured outside briefly to inspect the damage. He returned, his expression grim. "The wheel's shattered. We're stranded here until it's fixed. And with this fog, we can't even see where we are."
The sense of helplessness settled upon them, making Ville's frustration boil over. "This is ridiculous!" he exclaimed, echoing their collective impatience. "We can't just sit here. Someone needs to do something!"
Jannik's heart sank as Ville's frustration echoed his own. The mist thickened around them, wrapping them in a cold, isolating embrace. They were lost, and the daunting reality of their situation weighed heavily on them. The sense of vulnerability was overwhelming, and yet, they clung to each other, their shared fear binding them in the face of the unknown.
The sudden seclusion in the dense fog sent tremors of anxiety through the group. Shouts and hurried footsteps filled the air, but amidst the chaos, Jannik overheard a quiet conversation between Ville and Teodor, their voices barely audible above the din.
"You can fix this, can't you?" Ville's voice was soft, a whisper in the wind, but Jannik's keen ears caught every word.
Teodor, his tone dismissive, replied, "Easily. But I hardly think I should show off my skills to people we don't know."
Ville's response was calm, almost nonchalant. "Maybe, but would you rather miss the welcoming feast and the sorting?"
Teodor hesitated, considering Ville's words. After a moment, he sighed in resignation. "Fine. Just for you, darling."
Ville blushed, a faint pink dusting his cheeks, but he gestured with his chin, indicating that Teodor should start working. Teodor snorted, a mix of annoyance and amusement before he focused on the task at hand.
With a determined look, Teodor raised his wand. "Reparo!" he intoned, his voice clear and unwavering. The broken wheel twitched and then snapped back into place, the shattered fragments reassembling seamlessly.
Emboldened by the success, Teodor turned his attention to the fog, recognising the need for a guiding light. With a practised motion, he declared, "Lumos Maxima!" His wand tip glowed brilliantly, casting a warm light that pierced the fog and revealed their immediate surroundings.
But their ordeal wasn't over yet. The carriage remained immobile, separated at the end of the line, far from the others. Teodor furrowed his brow, his mind racing for a solution. With a newfound resolution, he muttered an incantation, focusing on the carriage's wheels.
"Motus!" he whispered, his voice barely audible. The carriage trembled slightly, then, as if propelled by an unseen force, it lurched forward, breaking free from its stagnant position.
Relief washed over the group as the carriage moved, guided by Teodor's skilful magic.
"Get into the carriage!" Ville yelled, panicked. The sudden dash towards their runaway carriage was almost funny.
But they made it.
They navigated the treacherous terrain cautiously, Teodor's Lumos spell showing the way, until they finally rejoined the leading group of carriages and their fellow students emerging from the dissipating fog.
As they made their way back to the school, Jannik couldn't help but marvel at Teodor's resourcefulness. His brother's quick thinking and magical expertise had not only saved them from the fog's clutches but also ensured their safe recovery to Durmstrang.
(Ville)
Durmstrang Nordrake Academy of Sorcery loomed before Ville, its architecture a harmonious blend of elegance and grandiosity. Enchanted lights adorned the majestic spires, creating a mesmerising display against the night sky. The school, though already imposing, seemed to stretch infinitely upward, reaching for the stars in an array of magical brilliance.
The moonlight caressed the building's surface, revealing intricate carvings and delicate patterns that seemed to come alive in the night. Towering turrets soared toward the heavens, their tips disappearing into the clouds, and the windows glowed warmly, promising knowledge and mysteries yet to be uncovered.
As Ville gazed up, he felt a sense of trepidation and exhilaration. The school seemed to hold within its walls the accumulated wisdom of centuries, whispered secrets of ancient spells, and the echoes of countless magical duels. The air crackled with energy, and even from this distance, Ville could sense the power emanating from the very stones of the building.
He wondered how Teodor was taking it, considering he already had a complete magical education. Still, the awe-inspiring facade of Durmstrang did not leave Teodor behind. Like him, his mouth was agape with wonder and delight.
"Honestly, it will be nice to have a place to go where I won't be the lonely, dirty, half-blood orphan," Teodor said softly, reaching out to grip Ville's hand.
Ville saw his aim and reached towards him, and in sync, they grabbed for each other.
He heard a group of girls cooing and looked away. Teodor wasn't bothered in the least.
Moving forward, Ville continued observing what he could see of the school.
The surrounding grounds were a tapestry of enchantment. Gardens filled with exotic, luminous flora sprawled out around the base of the castle, their petals radiating with an otherworldly glow. The air was tinged with the scent of potions, a tantalising aroma that hinted at the school's deep magical heritage.
Ville's breath caught in his throat. Durmstrang was not just a school; it was a living, breathing testimony to the wonders of wizardry. His heart pounded with anticipation as he took his first step toward the magnificent edifice, ready to embark on a journey that promised challenges, discoveries, and the sheer magic of learning.
Durmstrang Nordrake Academy of Sorcery stood proudly at the edge of a vast, placid lake, its waters reflecting the grandeur of the castle in shimmering ripples. Moonlight danced on the surface, casting a silvery glow across the liquid expanse. Trees, ancient sentinels of the magical world, stood tall and proud, their gnarled branches reaching out as if in a protective embrace around the castle.
Beyond the lake, sprawling fields stretched into the distance, a patchwork quilt of greens and golds under the night sky. Ville could just make out the silhouette of magical creatures grazing peacefully in the moonlit meadows, their forms ethereal and mysterious.
The distant sound of rustling leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl added to the enchanting ambience. Ville felt as though he was on the cusp of an extraordinary adventure, standing at the threshold of a world where magic and mystery intertwined seamlessly.
With every step closer to the school, Ville's excitement grew, his anticipation of the wonders and challenges ahead only intensifying. The magical aura of Durmstrang enveloped him, filling his heart with a sense of belonging and purpose. He couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the scene before him, knowing that this magnificent school was now his home, his sanctuary, and his ticket to a future filled with endless possibilities.
And then he heard a loud, whimsical musical voice calling. "First Years, over here!"
Ville squealed, unable to help himself. Teodor laughed, and the two of them pushed forward, joining the crowd of people heading towards the warm, feminine voice calling for them.
With a sense of relief, they settled into the group, ready to leave the day behind and embrace the comfort of their new surroundings.
All Ville had to do now was turn the page to the next part of his life.
End note:
Since Ville's wand is custom-made, we will find out when he takes it out what it looks like and more details.
Does anyone have any ideas as to why the carriage almost had a lethal accident?
Leave your thoughts :)