Hannah opened her eyes to Professor Sprout hovering over her, wearing a look of deep sympathy.

"There, there, now. I know what a horrible shock this is."

The words were meant to be a comfort, but for Hannah they merely drove home the fact that this was real, that Auntie was really gone and she - for the second time in her life - had nowhere to call home. "Where's Susan?"

"She's right over there, with the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall." Hannah sat up, seeing Susan seated with her head down, arms curled around herself.

Professor Sprout helped her to her feet. Hannah wiped away her drying tears, doing her best to steady her expression. Susan needed her now. They were all each other had, now that-

"Hannah? Are you alright?" her Head of House eventually asked, after she'd remained motionless for several seconds. "Is there anything you need?"

"Professor? Can- can you transfigure a letter to speak aloud for me?"

The doors to the courtyard swung open, and Harry jerked out of a light, fitful sleep. He ached, feeling chilled down to his bones, and his muscles felt drawn and tight.

The ground ended up too cold to sleep on, so he'd found a bench and curled up into a tight ball. It felt like hours went by, alone and frightened, until his violent shivers eventually exhausted him to the point of drowsiness.

A short, rotund man with a heavily receding hairline waited for them at the entrance. "Good morning!" he greeted cheerfully, smiling and nodding as the assembled first years - bedraggled and half-frozen - assembled before him. "We'll make a brief stop at the lavatories, and then your selection will get underway. Follow me!"

Harry drew his robes tighter around himself, stumbling into the castle with his peers. They stopped off at a bathroom, given only enough time to relieve themselves and splash some water on their faces, before being marched back into the massive auditorium they were in the night before. There, waiting, were the six Superiors.

The professor moved off to the side and withdrew a sheet of parchment and a self-inking quill. That task completed, he waved his wand and conjured a chair for himself, then settled in.

Just like the day before, Rasmussen started. "You." He pointed directly to Harry. "Who are you?"

"Holden Haraldson."

Rasmussen waited, and when Harry didn't continue he motioned with his hand impatiently. "Tell me why I should choose you."

Harry looked around at the other children, all of them sore, hungry, and cold. His eyes came to rest on the Russian students that had shunned him the night before. "Because I'm special." Scattered laughter greeted his assertion, but Harry wasn't amused. "Pick me, or don't. But you'll see."

"You'll do. Come here." Harry stepped forward, walking to Rasmussen's side while Masha picked a student to question next. "It was Viktor who suggested I select you."

"Who?"

"Viktor Krum. You met him in Austria? At Gregorovitch's?"

Harry blinked. He'd done his best to forget that day, the morning after Hilde died. He thought back, trying to recall as best as he could. The boy in the wand shop, of course. He remembered Harry? "Oh. I see."

"You got a wand much earlier than is normal. You've been receiving lessons since then?"

"Yes."

"Good. You'll do well in class. More points for our Assembly." And with that, Rasmussen turned back to the proceedings.

It was not unlike the previous night, except each first year answered a question or two about their background, their family, or skills or talents they had. Each student selected was checked off of the parchment the professor held, noting which Superior did the choosing.

It was dreadfully boring, and Harry passed the time by imagining what they'd have for breakfast. He did, however, perk up and watch closely when Rasmussen began to question the boy who'd spouted off those lies about his father the night before. Mikhail Galkin, from Kitezh. Rasmussen chose him, and he sidled up alongside the others, shooting Harry a mutinous glare as he did so.

They were in the same Assembly. Excellent, Harry thought. It would make him easy to find.

Lily was in motion before the letter finished speaking its message, tossing a pinch of powder into the fire and calling out an address. She counted to three and kneeled down, inching forward until she heard a reply and was assured the connection was active.

"Andromeda?"

"Who- Mrs. Potter? What do you want?"

"I need to talk to Sirius, right away!"

"That hardly explains why you firecalled me," the woman said, voice regal even when confused. "You know he doesn't live here. He doesn't even live in this country any longer."

"I know that, but surely you have a way to get in contact with him? It's an emergency!"

"Why don't you simply send an owl, then? It's what I do when-" she paused. "Of course. My apologies, of course that's not an option for you."

Lily never met Andromeda while she had her sight and magic, so it was difficult to discern much of anything from her acknowledgment of Lily's infirmity. "I really need to speak with Sirius."

"What is this regarding?"

"I need his help seeking custody of a child."

"You must have woken up at the crack of dawn!" Sophie Roper said, approaching the entrance to the Great Hall where Hannah stood, walking alongside Megan Jones and Eloise Midgen. "Nervous about the first day of classes? Or couldn't wait to get started?"

"No. I'm waiting for someone," she said brusquely, electing not to elaborate any further. A few seconds went by, and Sophie and Megan exchanged a glance with each other before the three of them stepped past her to get some breakfast.

Hannah knew they didn't deserve her being so short with them, especially given how the other first year Hufflepuff girls were already in bed by the time she made it to the dormitories. They had no way of knowing what happened yesterday, after all, and hadn't done anything wrong.

But they weren't her best friend. And this morning - maybe forever - nothing less would suffice.

At last, she rounded the corner, surrounded by a crowd of her peers, all of them making the journey from wherever their dormitory was together. That small, innocuous fact - that Hannah didn't even know where Susan slept, where she lived now - grated on her, the irritation leaving her raw and exposed.

Susan caught sight of her, coming to a halt and whispering to Lavender, then waiting while the other first years piled in. Just like Hannah, Susan didn't appear to have gotten much in the way of sleep. Her eyes were swollen, red-rimmed.

"Hi. Are you alright?"

"No." Hannah answered honestly, and met Susan halfway as she approached with her arms extended. "I missed you last night."

"Me too," Susan mumbled against her shoulder. "I can't believe she's really gone." Hannah understood the sentiment. Auntie Amelia was an indomitable force, so rigid and strong it seemed incomprehensible that she could have died.

"What's going to happen to us now?"

"I don't know. I don't know how we're supposed to keep on like our world hasn't just ended!" She started to sniffle against Hannah's robes. "I guess we're lucky we weren't there, but it doesn't feel like it."

Hannah rubbed her back. "I know. We're going to be okay. We'll get through this."

"You're right. Neville said the same thing. He and the girls stayed up with me last night."

She pulled back to arm's length, looking over Susan with fresh eyes. "I thought you said you wanted to go to bed. That's what you told me."

"I did, and I was going to. But… I don't know. I guess I didn't realise I needed to talk about it until Neville pushed me to try."

Hannah reached out and touched a strand of Susan's hair, the crimson locks slightly curled. "This looks different. Who did your hair?"

Susan blushed. "Lavender." Despite Hannah's best efforts, some emotion leaked through, evidence of her feelings of betrayal. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. You should go, your new friends are probably wondering what's keeping you."

"Hannah…" Susan started to say, but she didn't want to hear it, storming away from the Great Hall and the friend that so easily replaced her.

Sirius listened to the magister's update, grateful once again to have enlisted such a competent city manager. How someone like her, a true Russian patriot, had ended up living in a lawless wilderness like Kitezh in the first place was beyond him, but without her he'd have had a much more difficult time keeping things running.

Lately, however, much of the focus of their daily briefings were more in regards to the ever-worsening crisis of the muggle government, rather than any business related to the operation of the Invisible City. For wizards and witches who grew up in the harrowing times following the Bolsheviks' rise, the opportunity of the moment was too tempting to resist.

"-and negotiations with the Venetian syndicate have proven fruitful. They're willing to provide us with the enchantments to install sensors around the Motherland, to take up the burden the former Ministry abdicated during the Revolution. Once the sensors are in place, we'll be able to track accidental magic from any Mudla children and reinstate the Statute of Secrecy."

"And what do our Italian friends want in exchange for these enchantments?"

"Merely a supply of some potions." She slid a scroll of parchment across the table, and Sirius unrolled it, glancing over the offer.

"Several of these are poisons heavily regulated by the ICW. Even setting aside the stigma of distributing them to a criminal organisation, where would we get the ingredients?"

"I didn't say it would be easy, but consider the consequences to come from doing nothing. Russian magicals have spent the last seventy years hiding from the Mudla and their collaborators. With the collapse of Bolshevism, there will eventually be a new magical government. Would you rather establish it yourself, or wait until a new authority tries to exert its control over Kitezh?"

Sirius sighed, internally lamenting the amount of energy this job required. "Alright. Make it happen." The magister nodded in satisfaction, gathering her parchment and returning to Kitezh.

As she left, Dung poked his head into the study. "'All finished up in 'ere?"

"For the moment. What's up?"

"We've got a, uh, unexpected visitor. She's pretty insistent on seein' ya."

His eyebrows raised. An unexpected visitor, at Blackriver? His hidden, heavily fortified estate? "Send her in."

Dung gave a sarcastic salute, and a few moments later he was greeted by a face he hadn't seen in years. "Hello, Sirius. You're looking well."

"Andi?" His eyebrows - if possible - rose even further. "What are you doing here?"

She sat down in the chair recently vacated by the magister, her gaze trailing over the opulence of his home. "I had no other way to quickly get in contact with you. You gave Ted and I international portkeys two years ago, if you recall."

"Those were for emergencies, if you needed to escape Britain in a hurry."

"I'm sure your… manservant can procure another set for me."

Sirius leaned back in his seat, biting back the amusement at hearing Dung referred to in such a way. "Alright. So what brings you here?"

"Something's come up, and I didn't want to take action until I consulted you."

"I granted you regency over House Black precisely because I had no interest in managing its affairs. I haven't lived in England for a decade. You're there, I'm not; I trust your judgment," Sirius said, confused as to why she'd come ask for his advice.

She nodded. This was hardly the first time he'd given this speech. "I know, but this is an issue of a more… personal nature." Sirius waited expectantly, and after a brief pause, she went on. "Lily Potter reached out to me and asked for our assistance."

He sat straight in his chair, suddenly hyper-focused on their conversation. "What did she want?"

"She wants you to leverage the Black's political power to help her gain custody of two children recently orphaned in a Death Eater attack. I reminded her of the circumstances surrounding these particular children - heiresses to families listed in the Sacred Twenty-Eight - and the likelihood that any amount of leverage would convince the Ministry to assign their guardianship to a blind squib…"

Andromeda continued speaking, but Sirius' attention faded as his thoughts raced. Initially, relief washed over him, his terror that Lily somehow learned the truth about Harry calmed. Then, as the details of her request hit him, they ignited a tremendous rage.

So, she'd forgotten all about James and Harry, then? And she had the gall to come crawling to him to help her secure a replacement for the son her own decisions cost her?

Through the blood thundering in his ears, Andromeda's voice gradually came back into focus. "Sirius? How shall I proceed?" He didn't respond, awash in memories long-since buried. "I only ask because she's your best friend's widow. You provided a significant investment of gold into her little shop in Diagon, and I didn't know if-"

"Give me a few minutes to pack," he said at last. "I'm coming back with you."

September 9, 1991

He could see the harbour, the masts of the ship swaying back and forth.

"These essays were atrocious. None of you even came close to the standard Durmstrang expects."

How did it work? The one time he'd been aboard, he never saw the control room. How did it jump between bodies of water?

"Since I apparently cannot trust you to comprehend your assigned reading, we will begin every class with a quiz."

His fingers twitched, imagining himself on the high seas, the limitless possibility of exploration, the total freedom that would come with such a ship.

"Haraldson."

Did the school ever use it for anything besides ferrying students around Europe? It seemed such a waste, to have something so magical and use it for such mundane things…

"Haraldson!"

Harry blinked. "Er, yes?"

"I did not ask you a 'yes' or 'no' question!"

"Then… what was the question, again?"

"Five points from the Rasmussen Assembly your inattention. Now, what makes dandelion root a universal stabilising agent?"

Harry pondered this for a few seconds before giving it up as a lost cause. Potions simply didn't hold his interest the way other, wanded subjects did. "I don't know."

"Then that will be another five points. You there! Tamm! Same question!" Harry turned back to the window.

Once classes were finished for the day, he eagerly made his way to the luxurious dining hall they'd eaten in for the past week. There were several new faces, which was surprising, but Harry didn't think much of it, instead planning out where he would go after dinner.

For being a school filled with pre-teens and teenagers, Durmstrang was remarkably lax when it came to faculty oversight. There were elves that cleaned the castle at night, and professors rotated manning an 'incident office', where students could go to report an emergency. Despite all the rules and restrictions during the day, night time belonged to the students.

"Hello, Harry."

Pulled out of his musings, Harry looked up. "Hi! What are you doing on this side of the castle?"

Maksim shrugged, wearing an uncomfortable expression. "Going to dinner."

"But- this is our dining hall."

"The weekly totals were posted this morning. You didn't see? Semonov Assembly led in points."

"Oh." Harry had not, in fact, seen. "So… where do I eat, then?"

"With the rest of your Assembly. Rasmussen ranked third."

"Right," Harry said. "Well, I should be off, then. Congrats!"

A hint of a grin flashed across the small, quiet boy. "Yea, thanks. See you tomorrow!"

Turning around, Harry set off in search of dinner. The logical assumption was to look on the first floor, since that was where the first-ranked Assembly ate. Unfortunately, since Durmstrang castle sprawled out rather than up, each floor was immense, a labyrinthine maze of corridors, dead ends, and circular loops. Dinner was nearly over by the time he got some help.

"Viktor!"

The fourth year was heading for the main entrance, broomstick in hand. "Yes?"

"I was looking for our new dining hall, but I couldn't find it. Can you show me where it is?"

He paused, as though considering Harry's request, then grunted. Putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, Viktor steered him back towards the entrance. "Come. Let's have a chat."

"But- what about dinner?"

"You wouldn't have made it anyway." Viktor cast a warming charm over them both as they stepped outside. "I've been meaning to talk with you. Rasmussen is displeased with us both."

"Why?"

"You lose too many points. It's only been a week, but if it keeps up the others will become upset."

Harry frowned. It wasn't his fault the teachers were so strict! Besides… "I'm not the only one who loses points! Plenty of other students get docked for answering a question wrong, or messing up a spell."

"The Superiors receive a list documenting every point lost and gained for the week, and by whom. Rasmussen showed it to me - I can understand his frustration. I know you're a first year, and Durmstrang's ways might seem strange, but you must adapt. Here, your Assembly shares in your triumphs and your failures. You don't want the others to think you're letting them down."

"Okay. I'm sorry," Harry said, his years of practice at acting contrite rising without a second thought as they reached the quidditch pitch. "Wait - you said Rasmussen was displeased with you, too. How come?"

Viktor reached into his robes, withdrawing a leather bag. He untied it, and a golden snitch darted out, blurring out of sight within moments. "I recommended you. He says that makes me responsible."

"Why'd you do that? Because we met in Austria? We barely even spoke!"

He straddled his broom, eyes searching out any movement in the fading light. "You seemed very lonely. This can be a difficult place to make friends. Loyalties change every year; your comrade today could be your opponent next year. Remember what I said; do better."

And with that, Viktor kicked off, rocketing into the sky in pursuit of the snitch.

Harry watched him fly for a few minutes, impressed at the tremendous skill the older boy possessed, the speed with which he doggedly raced around the pitch. It wasn't long before the warming charm began to fade, though, and Harry left to return to the castle.

He weighed Viktor's words as he walked. It didn't feel like he'd misbehaved, not really. The problem was the teachers were just so strict, always looking for a reason to take points. In a lot of ways, Durmstrang was a repeat of his lessons at Blackriver - dull lectures, rote memorisation, and not nearly enough actual magic.

"Hm?" Harry stopped, noting an unpaved path leading into the woods surrounding the castle, worn down by repeated passage. He took a few steps down the trail, peering further into the forest to try and determine where - and to what - lay at the end of this destination.

'No,' he ultimately decided. He was still finding his way around the castle.

But, once he was more comfortable…

Well. He never could resist a mystery once it presented itself.

A/N: short chapter here. Setting up first year for our characters. I've been thinking a lot about how long this fic is going to be. As I've demonstrated many (many many) times in the past, I'm terrible at estimating how long any of my fics will be. So I'll just say - pretty long. Harry will have some adventures at Durmstrang, bc I wanted to actually write a different school, rather than just have it appear as a setting (like Ilvermorny in ASAOV, which was barely detailed). So I've got some Durmstrang-specific adventures for Harry to enjoy. Hogwarts will be less of a focus; we'll stick more with Hannah and her experience, rather than outside events going on at the school.

I've opened up my discord, the link for which is in my profile. See you there!

Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles