November 7, 1991

Harry jerked awake, sitting up so swiftly he nearly fell off of the small cot he lay upon.

"What happened?"

"You hit your head and burned your hand," a man said distractedly, glancing over his shoulder from where he stood above another cot where Mikhail lay. "There's a potion on the windowsill. Drink it, or don't."

Giving the sealed potions vial a glance, Harry first asked, "Who're you?"

There was a long gap of silence before the man answered, punctuated by several precise movements of his wand over Mikhail's form. "Tomas Horacek. I am the resident healer for the Durmstrang Institute."

"Is Mikhail alright?"

"In time, he will be. Probably." This healer apparently did not care much for 'bedside manner'.

Concern somewhat mollified by that simple reply, Harry next asked, "Could I have some breakfast?"

Horacek barked out a command in Czech, and a house elf appeared. "Breakfast, for a Rasmussen." The elf vanished, and a moment later a tin cup of water and a hunk of bread appeared in Harry's lap.

Oh, right. The rankings.

Eating in silence, Harry let his eyes drift over the room. For an infirmary, it didn't appear very well-stocked. The cots he and Mikhail occupied were the only ones in the room. A large cupboard - likely stocked with potions - stood next to a single bookcase. Near the door sat a desk with a cushioned chair, books stacked on top.

His examination complete, Harry shifted in his cot to stare out the window. Judging by the view, this room was on the top floor of Durmstrang, which would explain why he'd yet to stumble upon it independently. A light dusting of white coated the grounds, the first snow of the term. 'That'll make sleeping outdoors a real delight' he grumbled internally, that stray thought leeching any of the wonder at the vista before him.

Harry's attention was pulled away from the landscape though, when he saw two figures leaving the castle for the surrounding woods. Specifically, taking the unmarked footpath he'd noted previously while walking with Viktor.

"Am I free to go?"

Horacek grunted. "I don't know why you've stayed this long."

Unable to hold back a grin at the healer's churlishness, Harry hopped off the cot and took off running through the corridors. Based on his previous explorations, he had an idea where the staircase would be and quickly made his way to the ground floor and out of the castle.

He wished he'd brought his cloak. The standard robes he wore to class weren't anywhere near up to the task of holding back the bitter cold, but Harry pressed on, determined to not to miss the opportunity to discover what secret lay at the end of the path. He followed the clear footprints in the thin layer of snow, slowing his pace as he descended deeper into the woods.

The path, and footprints, seemed to come to a dead end in front of a dense shrubbery - unusual, this deep into the forest, where sunlight was largely blocked by the towering trees overhead. Harry paused, but only for a moment; after all, the two figures already had quite a head start on him. He pulled his robes tight around himself and prepared to plough through the thick foliage.

It was sheer good fortune that saved him from detection. An errant branch from the bush caught his robes just below the knee, delaying his bull-rush forward. When Harry bent down to free himself, his crouched position allowed him to see through the base of the shrubbery. A man's boots, fur-lined and pristine, were visible just on the other side of the bush.

'That was lucky!' he thought to himself, stepping back and silently prowling off-path to try and circle around where the man stood. If he'd have charged through as he intended, he'd have barrelled right into whoever stood on the other side!

Successfully managing his approach, Harry, hid behind a tree and peered around its trunk. Two men stood in a large clearing that surrounded a truly massive tree. He easily recognised them both.

"-don't see any difference. This all seems a rather tremendous waste of time," Headmaster Karkaroff was saying.

"You would think that," Professor Nielsen retorted. "You've no respect nor knowledge of the old ways."

"Said the man currently offering a meal to a tree."

Nielsen, crouched near the trunk of the enormous tree, left his gifts near the roots and stood up. "It's so much more than that, as you well know. And it is dying."

"And I suppose you believe me to be at fault for this, too?"

"It really doesn't matter. The question you should be asking is how we can reverse this. Without its protection, the school grows more and more vulnerable. Attacks like the one last night will only grow more common."

"Then we will devise new, alternative protections," Karkaroff said, sounding entirely unconcerned.

"And how many students will be crippled or killed before then? Horacek says the Galkin boy may not ever be the same. The parents will-"

"The parents entrusted me with their children's protection. I will resolve the issue of last night's breach."

Nielsen turned back to the tree. "And the next? The one after that?"

"If you believe there to be a magical creature capable of standing against a master of the Dark Arts, perhaps you should spend less time in the woods and more time in the duelling ring, Holger."

There was a long moment of silence, then Holger pressed one hand against the tree's trunk in a fond gesture. "We should get back. I will need to do more research to try and reverse the rot."

The two of them stepped through the bush on the other edge of the clearing, taking the unmarked path back to the castle. Harry stepped out from behind his cover and entered the clearing once they were gone.

It was large; twice the size of the largest dining hall at Durmstrang. In contrast to the foliage surrounding the clearing, the area within was devoid of any vegetation or life. A trickle of a stream, far too small to even be called a creek, gurgled along the edge of the space, tracing a path towards the large lake near the school. There was only dirt around the tree - no moss, no vines, not even grass.

Harry moved closer, wanting to better examine the tree. With every step he took, though, his skin prickled, crawled, itched. It started out as mildly irritating, but by the time he was a half-dozen paces away, the sensation had grown to be utterly maddening.

'Come no closer, not-Harald's son.'

Shivering in discomfort, Harry started when the voice spoke into his ear, the same lilting, feminine tone he'd heard that morning. "Who are you? How do you know who I am?"

'I can see you.'

The words triggered a memory, one he often revisited alone. "Meadow? Is that you?"

There was no response, and eventually Harry took another step forward, the buzzing, prickling feeling slowly transforming into far more unpleasant stinging. His robes offered no protection against whatever this was, every inch of his body undergoing the same painful reaction. "What is this?"

'The protections around this castle are weakened, by the same forces that empower the evil from the west. Even now, it probes the defences and seeks entry.'

"What evil?" Harry gasped, forcing his body to take yet another step, pinpricks turning to thousands of needles stabbing at him. "How do I stop it?

'Keeping it at bay occupies the full energy of the protections, providing the opening for those like the night-strider you encountered.'

"That's what that… that thing was, last night?"

'If you want to protect the castle, not-Harald's son, you must preserve the Warden.'

Harry tried to take another step, but the agony was too great, and with a cry of pain he scrambled away from the tree. The further he got, the more the sensation lessened. Heedless of the cold, he dropped to his knees near the trickling stream, dousing his hands in the water, relishing the feeling of comfort and calmness. After the throbbing torment he'd endured, the cool water felt like- like coming home.

'I will do my best to protect you, but if you seek to defend the castle the Warden cannot fall.'

The memory of that creature, the 'night-strider' being ripped off of him sprang into Harry's mind. "You helped me? Why did you let it hurt Mikhail, but not me?"

The water soothed his skin, and Harry pushed his sleeves up to dunk his forearms into the shallow flow. After a moment's consideration, he lowered his head and splashed water over his face, luxuriating in the relief it provided.

His eyes closed, ice-cold water dripping down into his collar, the voice resonated in his mind. 'I can feel it… its fingerprint is obvious. I've told you all I know, not-Harald's son. Do what you must.'

The pleasant feeling faded, leaving him cold, wet, but strangely energised. Giving the tree a wide berth, Harry meandered back towards the footpath at a slow pace.

An evil from the west. A danger to the castle. A 'warden' in need of protection.

He grinned. Sounded like quite an adventure.

True to her House's hard-working nature, most of the Hufflepuff first years were already lined up in the corridor, waiting for the Gryffindors and Slytherins to exit the potions laboratory.

The trauma from the start of the term remained for Hannah, slowly scabbing over as the weeks and months went by. Without Susan to support and be supported by, she found herself leaning more and more on Cedric, who - despite her discomfort with his parents - quickly proved to be kind and more than generous with his time.

Spending so much time with older students hadn't exactly cemented any bonds with her own year, though. Hannah considered this as she stood, several paces away from where Megan, Eloise, and Sophie all chatted amiably with one another, none of them looking in her direction. It wasn't that they overtly excluded her, but Hannah felt, after the way their year began, the three of them formed a group that didn't include her. She didn't know how to overcome the wall between them and herself, and so - just like right now - she more often than not found herself on the outside looking in.

If only Susan had followed their agreement, she thought as the door to the laboratory opened. Being separated in such a way as they were was devastating, all the more so since the vast majority of her life had been lived alongside her surrogate sister.

Even as that stray thought passed through her mind, the girl herself appeared, storming out of the classroom. Hannah didn't need to be her best friend to see the fury on her face, stray hairs having shaken free of her plait.

"What's wrong?" she asked, causing Susan to start, surprise replacing anger for a brief instant.

"Oh, Hannah. I didn't see you."

'You never do, not anymore' she wanted to respond, but instead Hannah just shifted her bag from one shoulder to the other. "So… what happened?"

"Malfoy," Susan spat. "He's such a git! I know he sabotaged Neville's potion."

"We don't know that," the boy in question muttered. "I'm pants at Potions, I might've blown it up on my own accord."

"That's not true! Slughorn says you're already improving. It's our first year, no one expects you to be a master brewer!" Susan protested.

Neville shrugged. "Well, no harm done, either way."

"Except to your marks, and possibly yourself if he really did sabotage your potion," Hannah pointed out. "I wouldn't put it past him, he really is a foul little git. Someone ought to give him a taste of his own medicine."

Neville chuckled. "Maybe so. Susan, we ought to get going to Charms or we'll be late. See you later, Hannah." Susan called out her goodbyes over her shoulder as she hurriedly followed him out of the dungeons, the corridor emptying as the last students inside exited and those waiting outside entered.

Almost, but not completely empty.

"A 'foul little git', am I?" Malfoy pushed Hannah, hard. "And who's going to force me to take my medicine, Abbott? You?"

"Um…." She quickly evaluated her situation. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle took up the space in front of her and penned her in on three sides, with the corridor wall at her back serving effectively to surround her.

"Just like a duffer, eh, boys?" Malfoy let out a high-pitched laugh. "Plenty to say when they've got a crowd behind them, not so much when you catch them by themselves."

Hannah peered over his shoulder, seeing a few Ravenclaws heading to the potions lab, uninterested in the confrontation taking place. "I- I'm not afraid of you, whether or not I'm alone."

"No?" Malfoy leaned a little closer. "Guess what they say about the dim ones going to Hufflepuff is true. Didn't Bones teach you anything?"

"What's that supposed to mean? I bet my marks are better than yours!"

He reached out, tapping her in the center of her forehead with one finger. "I'm not talking about school, you stupid bint. You ought to keep your mouth shut, or you'll end up a sticky paste just like your 'auntie'. Have you forgotten how standing alone against superior wizards worked out for her?"

She gasped, feeling heat flood her face, warm tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. "How could- just- SHUT UP Malfoy!"

"Again - who's going to make me?"

"We are." Malfoy turned, looking over his shoulder, and in the next instant he stepped away from Hannah, pulling his two goons along with him. With blurry eyes, Hannah looked in the direction of the potions laboratory, seeing Megan, Eloise, and Sophie, with Ernie and Justin tagging along. "Hufflepuffs stick together. If you bother Hannah again, you'll find out what that means."

"I'm so scared," Malfoy muttered, but he was quickly retreating all the same. "Just watch what you say from now on, Abbott." And with that, he scurried away.

"Are you alright?" Sophie asked, at her side in a flash. "We heard what he said."

"How- how'd you know I was in trouble?"

"We were worried when you were taking so long," Megan said. "Eloise went looking for you and saw the Slytherins corner you."

"And… you all came to help me?"

"'course!" Ernie exclaimed. "What's so surprising about that? You're our friend, we'll always have your back."

"Thanks guys," Hannah said. "Really - thank you."

Sophie took her hand, and tugged her along. "C'mon! We're gonna be late!"

Allowing herself to be pulled behind her, Hannah felt - for the first time since her Sorting - that maybe she'd be alright in Hufflepuff, after all.

The days following Mikhail's injury and his encounter in the woods were unusual.

Within his own Assembly, Harry sought to explain what happened and describe the 'night-strider' creature he saw. To his surprise, nobody was interested in his story, and no one believed he didn't cause Mikhail's injuries.

Not to say that fact changed how he was treated, no. Despite the immense frustration that came with no one taking his warnings about nocturnal creatures and approaching evils seriously, his Assembly-mates shrugged off the notion he was responsible for the three-day hospitalisation of a classmate as schoolyard hijinks. There was zero change in his reputation or treatment. He couldn't understand it.

"The difference is there, you simply don't see it," Masha said, sitting with him while Maksim worked diligently on their assignments. "The others sense your greatness, your power, even if they aren't able to recognise it as such."

"I don't know…" Harry mused. "I think they simply don't care if I did it or not, so long as I didn't lose any points."

"Your lack of confidence is the only thing holding you back. Believe in yourself." This wasn't an uncommon conversation point from Masha, but her next statement did manage to surprise him. "You've told me a great deal about your father, but you've yet to mention your mother. Does she not live with you?"

Harry's gaze unfocused, staring forward at nothing for several moments. "No. I don't- I've never met my mother."

"Did she pass on?"

"I don't know."

"How do you not know?" Maksim cut in. "Doesn't your father-"

"Maksim!" Masha silenced him with a glare. "I'm sorry for bringing up a topic you'd rather not discuss. Has your father taken a new wife?"

Harry blinked, doing his best to push away the unpleasant questions around his mother. "What? A 'new'...? No, it's always just been us; well, and Dung." When Masha raised her eyebrows, he clarified, "My father's associate. He helps around the manor and teaches me stuff."

"I see." She rose from her seat. "Excuse me, there's something I must attend to. I won't be long."

She left the room, and Harry - no longer in the mood to spellcraft - joined Maksim in the next seat over. "I'm sorry about your mother," he said. "I can't imagine- it must be difficult, not knowing."

"Father promised he would tell me the truth when I was older." But that was years ago; surely Harry was old enough to handle whatever terrible news the tale would bring? "What's your home like? You said your father worked as a fisherman?"

"Yes, in Olenek, deep in the heart of the Motherland. The village is nestled alongside a river, small even by the Mudla's standards. Quiet, and safe from the repercussions of the Great War."

"That's why your family settled there?"

Maksim nodded. "My grandfather knew, after Grindelwald's defeat, that there would be a purge of his followers. Olenek is dull, but we live a good life."

"Do you have any other siblings?"

"No, it is just my parents, grandparents, and Masha. We are the only wizards in the region, as far as I know."

Harry tried to imagine it in his mind's eye. "It sounds nice. Peaceful."

"And lonely," Maksim added. "I had only Masha to spend time with, and she preferred the company of our grandfather. It is his wand she carries."

"Is that why she's so…" Harry made a vague gesture with his hands.

"Focused?" Maksim chuckled. "She believes strongly in the ideals my grandfather served."

"But I thought… I mean, it seems like you share her beliefs."

"I do! Of course I do. I just…" he trailed off. "Never mind. So where do you think this voice is coming from?"

Harry sat back in his seat, drumming his fingertips on the surface of the desk. "I'm not sure. I encountered a fairy once; she said the same sorts of things the voice does."

"You really think it's a fairy? Outside of Durmstrang? Aren't they supposed to be very rare?" Harry shrugged helplessly. "What do you mean, the same sort of thing? Like… warnings about the future?"

"No, I mean the way she spoke about me." He deliberately left out the uncomfortable question about how the voice seemed to know he wasn't who he claimed to be.

"And what about this Warden?"

"Perhaps," Masha interrupted, having returned from wherever she went. "The voice was referring to the castle's wards."

"You think so?" Harry asked.

"Maybe. We should research the castle's protections. There is a book, Generations of Might, that documents the history of Durmstrang's founding and operation. The library has a copy."

Maksim sighed, packing up his things. "I'll go find it."

"I can come, too…" Harry said, albeit reluctantly. He hated the library - nothing but books and silence. So dull!

"No, you stay," Masha instructed. "There's something I wanted to speak with you about."

"Okay," he easily agreed. "Sorry, Maksim."

"It's alright. It was nice talking with you." And with that, his quiet friend shouldered his bag and left the unused classroom.

"Harry," Masha began, settling into her brother's empty seat. "I would like to come home with you for the winter holidays."

"Huh? Why?"

"This is my final year at Durmstrang, so I'll need to find work. I'm sure your father can make use of a witch of my abilities, and it would allow me to remain close by to offer you any assistance you might need."

"Well…" That all seemed to make sense to Harry, theoretically. "I'm sure Father won't mind if a friend comes to visit. Wouldn't you rather spend the holidays at home, though?"

"Bah!" Masha snorted. "It is hardly a home for witches and wizards. The village Maksim and I are from is a miserable collection of ramshackle homes. Nothing compared to the Invisible City, or what your father has created."

"I don't actually live in Kitezh," he warned, sympathising with her desire to explore, to seek out the unknown.

"But you live with the Volga Lord," she stated matter-of-factly. "That is where I need to be."

"Is Maksim going to come, too?"

Some of the intensity in her expression eased at her brother's mention. "Not this time. Perhaps, once I have a position alongside your father, he can visit during the summer holiday."

"Alright," he agreed, considering how he might use Masha's presence to secure more time away from Blackriver.

The idea of having a friend visit - for the first time, ever! - provided a satisfactory conclusion to what was a rather overwhelming day. He offered a distracted goodnight, taking a meandering route to the courtyard. By the time a sixth year cast the warming charm over him, Harry was already asleep.

A/N: Small update, only 3.6k words. I've been pretty busy in RL doing absolutely nothing, so writing's been slow-going. I've started the next chapter for AMR, TLC, WSW, and F-U, so hopefully the pipeline will start pumping again soon.

Actually had some folks from my discord server look this over for SPAG errors. First time in... gosh. It's been at least two dozen updates since Nauze moved on to bigger and better things that I've had a beta-reader. Hopefully the quality of my work takes an up-turn.

I had a review awhile back that said something like 'you're introducing so much stuff and never resolving anything!', to which I reply - FACTS. This is going to be a long story. I'd estimate around a quarter million words or so, but given my track record, that's a conservative guess. As my mental outline currently stands, Harry will be 19/20-ish when the fic is complete. That's almost a decade from where the story is at right now. We've got a ways to go, but it should be a fun ride. As always,

Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles