Chapter Text
Snow was falling, classes had just let out for the semester, and fifth-year Tino Väinämöinen was all but bouncing off the walls in excitement.
Christmas had always been his favorite time of the year. All the pretty decorations, the snow, singing carols, gift giving and receiving…
He loved it all.
He’d been at Hogwarts for a year and a half now, as an exchange student from Durmstrang Institute. He’d come on suggestion from his professors after gaining a love for magical animals, and his COMC professor at Durmstrang had recommended that he study for some time in Scotland, where creatures were abundant and he could gain a more thorough idea of what exactly he wanted to study after his O.W.L.S. And she’d been right—Hogwarts’ grounds were filled with all sorts of magical and non-magical creatures that Tino would never have dreamed of seeing back at his home school. Merpeople, centaurs, crups, even Nifflers—Tino was on cloud nine the moment he walked into his first COMC class.
It didn’t mean he didn’t miss home, though. The feeling of flying over Durmstrang’s vast grounds with his friends, watching Berwald and Mathias waging war against each other, helping Lukas wrangle his pet trolls—it was hard to replicate. The pitch and castle grounds didn’t have quite the same bite in the air, Arthur Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy’s squabbles got boring pretty quick, and—
Well, chasing after a laughing Peeves was just as tricky as trying to corral a rogue troll. Tino still wasn’t entirely sure how Lukas had managed that one, actually. But even then, there was still some homesickness, buried deep beneath a wide smile and an ever-moving mouth.
But that homesick feeling would be gone soon. Tino had never gone home for Christmas break—after all, why would he when he could practice magic to his heart’s content at school?—and this year was no exception. But somehow, some way, he’d managed to convince the Headmistress to let him have some friends over for the holidays.
The moment she’d said “yes”, Tino had raced off to send an owl to invite his closest friends to visit him at Hogwarts—Berwald, Lukas, Emil,, and Mathias. And they’d written him back saying that they could all come, sans Lukas’s troll.
Tino had cried with joy at the thought. Letters just weren’t the same as seeing your best friends in person.
The day had finally come, and Matthew and Alfred had watched him jump all around the Great Hall for the better half of the morning, the Finnish boy rambling about everything he had to show his friends.
“They’ll love meeting Witherwings, I know Emil absolutely loves birdlike creatures—he even has his own, this absolutely adorable puffin! He’d love to take a ride on the back of a hippogriff, I just know it! Oh, but I’ll need to remember to check and see when Hagrid will be in, I know he likes to go to the Potters’ for Christmas—oh no, I still need to get gifts for so many people, I can’t forget to do that, so maybe a trip to Hogsmeade? Or—”
“Tino, dude, relax. You’re making me nervous and it’s scaring me,” Alfred groaned, his chin resting on his arms. “Like, seriously, you’ll be fine—you said they’re like your family, right? I’m sure they’ll be happy with whatever you guys end up doing.”
“For once, Alfie’s right,” Matthew agreed. “I think you should take a deep breath—”
He sputtered as his Kneazle stuck a paw into his mouth, indicating that he was hungry. Alfred snickered, and Matthew attempted to elbow him as he got up to feed his pet.
Tino chuckled at the sight, before doing as Matthew had suggested and taking a few deep breaths. The duo was right—he would have almost two whole weeks with his friends where they could do everything, and at the end of the day, they were coming to spend time together. It had been months since he’d seen them, since he’d been with his family all summer, but now the long separation had come to an end.
And right as he thought that, he saw them through the Great Hall’s open doors, walking into the entrance hall behind Argus Filch. It was unmistakably them—he’d have recognized Berwald in a crowd anywhere. And the others—
“Ber!” he yelled, leaping over the table and dashing down the spaces between the tables. “Lukas! Emil! Mathias! Hi, thanks, Mr. Filch! You made it, finally!”
He crashed into them, his arms barely fitting around Mathias and Berald’s much taller frames, Lukas and Emil just out of his reach but soon pulled into hugs from their friend as he tried to greet everyone at once.
“Merlin’s beard,” Tino gasped as he finally settled against Berwald and his oversized winter coat, “I missed you guys.”
“Yeah, I think we got that loud and clear,” Matthias laughed.
“Shut up. I earned this,” Tino grumbled into Berwald. The taller boy’s arms wrapped around Tino’s smaller frame, a silent return of Tino’s own excitement.
Finally, he pulled himself together enough to take a step back and look at his friends properly. The first thing he realized was—
“When did the Durmstrang uniform require two coats? And why didn’t you change on the way here? It’s the holidays, it’s time for Christmas jumpers and Santa hats, not drab school uniforms!”
Mathias and Lukas exchanged looks. Emil stared at the ground and—wait, where was that puffin of his, anyways? Didn’t he usually keep it on his shoulder? There hadn't been any new rules on pets, had there?
Everyone was being weirdly quiet, too.
Tino frowned. “...Guys?”
Berwald’s arms tightened around Tino.
“It’s a long story,” he muttered. “Per’aps we should get out o’ this entrance hall first?”
Tino wanted to protest, but consented, knowing Berwald was probably right. As it was, Filch had long since disappeared and Tino could feel the chilly air outside from the castle’s open doors. Explanations could wait until they were all settled in—besides, he still had to show them around the castle.
“Of course. You guys are probably exhausted. Come on! I hope you don’t mind sharing one of the empty dorms with me?”
“We spend every other summer crammed into the Bondeviks’ summer house attic. I’m sure we can survive in a decently-sized room,” Mathias replied. Without basically screaming the words. Tino swore he’d only heard Mathias talk at a normal volume a handful of times before now, and made a note to check in on the Danish boy later. He might be older by a year, but that didn’t mean Tino couldn’t question him on if he was sleeping enough between classes, homework, and Quidditch. Those eyebags were quite telling.
Tino led them out of the entrance hall and down the Grand Staircase, putting aside any strangeness in his friends’ behavior in favor of talking about Hogwarts and its many quirks. Or more specifically, the many portraits lining the walls.
“That’s Shanks’ portrait there, he’s a nice one. He’s got a secret passage to the second floor if you give him the headline from the Daily Prophet, so if you like a shortcut to the library he’s a good one to know. That one over there is Elizabeth Burke, I’d recommend avoiding her. She’s not really a fan of me, A shame really, her portrait in the dungeons has the best shortcut to the seventh floor…Oh, look out for the stairs—they move about, and there’s—”
Emil made a noise of surprise from behind him, and Tino turned to see the youngest of the group carefully pulling his foot back through the illusion of a stair.
“—trick stairs, yeah,” Tino sighed. “Sorry about that. Once you get used to it, you kind of forget they’re there.”
Lukas cautiously prodded the trick stair with his boot, the “stair” having returned to its formerly solid form. “Every time you write, I wonder more and more about this school’s safety regulations,” he commented.
“Don’t worry, no one’s died here recently! It’s all perfectly safe, for the most part,” Tino told him.
“Of course you’d say that,” Emil muttered under his breath.
Tino pretended he hadn’t heard him and continued ushering his friends towards the basement. “We’ll be staying in the Hufflepuff’s part of the castle–I hope you like the color yellow! It’s really cozy in there, and a much shorter walk than coming from the guest room. See, here we are!”
Tino gestured at the blank wall in front of them, empty barrels littering their surroundings.
The other four stared at him.
“Yeah, that’s it. He’s officially lost his mind,” Emil said.
“Not gonna lie, you might actually have a point there…” Mathias agreed.
Lukas stepped forward and poked the wall with his finger. “Is it…supposed to do something? Do we need to do a dance? Put on a puppet show, perhaps?”
“Actually, kind of yeah,” Tino laughed. “Here, let me show you—Helga Hufflepuff!” he chanted, rapping his wand against an otherwise unassuming barrel in the corner before stepping back and watching with delight as the wall gave way to reveal a passage into his House’s common area. “Cool, right? Come on in!”
“...Hogwarts…is very interesting…” Berwald noted, but followed Tino into the passage anyways, the others close behind.
“Isn’t it?” Tino grinned. “Here we are—the Hufflepuff Common Room!”
He swept his arms open, gesturing at the cozy lounge. A fire burned brightly in the central hearth, oversized armchairs and couches in a slightly disorganized array across the floor. Windows near the roof gave some natural light to plants that hung from the ceiling or sat in planter boxes, and a few portraits lined whatever wall space wasn’t taken up by round doorways leading to the dormitories or by even more planter boxes.
“Is someone using the fire?” Mathias questioned.
“Nah, it’s always burning,” Tino waved a hand dismissively. “Though if you’re looking for the other ‘Puffs, I think Matthew’s gone off to the kitchens to feed his Kneazle and there’s probably some people in their dorms or the library. Almost everyone went home this year, so I’m glad you guys could come.”
“And..you just let the fire burn? You guys can afford to do that? Lucky…” Mathias sighed as he pulled off his gloves to warm his hands.
Tino blinked. “Um, yeah? We live in a magical world. There’s spells for this kind of stuff.”
“Told you they were cutting out stuff from the curriculum,” Lukas said.
“They what?”
“Later, Tino. So, where’re we sleeping?” Mathias asked. “That old guy said our stuff would be in the room when we got here.”
Tino pointed at one of the hallways. “Fourth door on the left if you go down.”
“Awesome, thanks. No dress code, yeah?” Mathias was already headed for the room, the others in tow.
Tino followed them. “Nope! Though honestly I’ve been wearing my Christmas jumpers since December started so I don’t think they care too much...”
“Of course you did,” an exasperated Lukas muttered under the sounds of Mathias exclaiming at the sight of the room.
It was a standard size, for five occupants, but Tino had done some personal decorating and draped garlands over anything he could drape them over. Tinsel hung around the windows, and Tino had already replaced the bedcovers on his own bed with a Christmas-themed quilt, leaving the other four to decide what they wanted to do with their own sheets.
He admitted that maybe decorating was a bit much, but in his defense, he got bored really easily and Hagrid had had a lot of extra stuff on hand.
Emil poked his head under Mathias’ arm. “Wow. Who’d you kill for all the holly?”
“Emil!” Lukas scolded.
“No, no, he has a point. I got it from our groundskeeper.” Tino chuckled ruefully. “Uh…it’s not too much, is it? I know I can get overboard with this stuff…”
“All good,” Berwald said, pushing past the others and heading for his trunk. The house-elves had helpfully arranged everything in the circular room, and Berwald’s things were next to Tino’s. Emil and Lukas would take up the other side of the room, and Mathias was in the middle.
Tino thought it was well-planned. He could see everyone from his corner, and all four of them had a chance to stop Mathias before he traumatized anyone knocking on their door. It had happened before—Tino wasn’t entirely sure that the Bondeviks’ house-elf had ever fully recovered from the fright of Mathias dressed up in a ghost pirate costume with a firewhisky in hand.
He wondered what Mathias had gone as this year. He hadn’t mentioned Halloween in any of their letters, despite being a huge fan of dressing up. He’d have to ask him, now that he was here.
Tino sat on the edge of his bed and watched his friends unpack. Emil had thrown off all of his coats and replaced them with one of his Icelandic sweaters the moment he could unlock his trunk. Lukas was pulling out giant textbooks and lining them up, no doubt planning on doing some light reading over the holidays. And at some point in the minutes it took for Tino to get comfortable, Berwald had abandoned his unpacking to put Mathias in a headlock. A branch of mistletoe was clutched in Mathias’ hand, and Tino didn’t even want to know how he’d gotten ahold of it.
Yeah, he’d missed this, alright. His heart already felt so much lighter, some of his yearning for Scandinavia fading away just by being around his friends.
Speaking of which…
“Hey guys,” he called over the sounds of Mathias’ struggling, “Did you get my last package? I sent it just before the end of classes, the one with all the bright ribbons with the candies the twins and I made?”
Emil looked up from where he was seated on the floor, a look of confusion on his face.. “The…what? I thought your last package was the quills.”
“Didn’t you send a package of sweaters, too?” Mathias asked. “You mentioned it earlier.”
Tino frowned.
“...Well, yes, but that was earlier in the semester. The most recent one, I sent you guys some extra candies I got during my birthday, so you could enjoy them in between finals. Did they not get to you?”
The four Durmstrang students shook their heads.
“They probably got lost,” Mathias suggested. “Durmstrang is a long ways away.”
“Or confiscated,” Lukas added from his perch atop a dresser. Tino startled, before remembering this was perfectly normal Lukas behavior and collecting himself so he could continue his little questioning session.
“Confiscated? It was candy! Why would you confiscate sweets?”
“I know, right?” Mathias agreed. “Your sweaters probably got confiscated too. They’ve been cracking down on stuff coming into the place lately.” Lukas nodded silently.
“Sweaters and candy?! Wait, does that mean you didn’t get the broom-polishing kit either?”
“We got that one,” Berwald reassured the Finn. “We are top players. They do not take those things from us.”
Emil huffed. “They confiscate anything that ‘isn’t beneficial to one’s studies’”. And I thought magic school was supposed to be cool.”
Tino pressed his fingers against his forehead, trying to sort through his thoughts. “So you’re telling me that all the cool stuff I tried to send…”
“Probably is sitting in some dusty cupboard if it hasn’t been torched, yeah,” Mathias confirmed. “Sorry you had to find out like this, bro. We would’ve told ya, but…”
Berwald made a slicing motion across his throat.
Tino groaned into his arms.
“Great job, everyone,” Emil grumbled. “We officially ruined Tino’s day within an hour of getting here, that’s a new record.”
He narrowly avoided having a pinecone from Tino’s decorating spree chucked at him by Mathias.
"I knew Durmstrang was strict, but not this strict. What on earth happened while I was gone?” Tino asked.
The others exchanged looks.
“Some other time,” Mathias declared. “Right now—I’m hungry. So, what’s for dinner?”
.
Tino led them to the Great Hall not long later, all five of them now in comfortable winter clothes. He had changed into a bright Christmas jumper, covered in little Santa hat and Christmas tree patterns.
The others had put on less holiday-themed attire. Tino tried not to feel the sting of them not wearing his carefully-crafted sweaters and take it too personally. They probably had good reasons.
Though usually, by now, Berwald would have mentioned something. He was brutally honest about things like this, and knew Tino’s anxiety would eat him up otherwise.
What if Berwald didn’t see him as one of his best friends anymore? What if the others only came out of obligation? What if they didn’t actually like his gifts? Did he send too many? Maybe—
He pushed the thoughts of what-if out of his mind as he opened the doors to the Great Hall. It wouldn’t do to think of such things when he could finally introduce his school friends to his best friends.
They’d arrived just before dinnertime, the Great Hall filled with the sounds of students who were staying over the break. Not many had stayed behind, but there were a few of his friends in the room nonetheless. Alfred and Matthew were sitting at a table at the far end near the fire along with Matthew’s Kneazle. Roderich Edelstein, a sixth year, was being fussed at by his on-and-off girlfriend Elizabeta, Roderich’s younger brother Leo ignoring them and drawing in a sketchpad next to the duo. And Tino was pretty sure he saw Feliks hiding in a corner behind a group of Slytherins. A handful of other students dotted the Hall, most already in groups. There was no set House seating during the breaks, so everyone was mixed together, not quite caring which table they were at.
Making his choice, Tino led his friends over to the twins.
“Heyyyyy, Tino, my dude!” Alfred grinned once Tino came into talking range. “These your bros? Totally awesome, bro!”
Berwald tapped Tino’s shoulder. “You did not mention you had an American friend.”
“I thought I did? In the letter about sending us some of those color-changing gumdrops?” Tino was sure he’d mentioned it, but then again… “Maybe I forgot. Oh well! Everyone, this is Matthew and Alfred, the guys who’ve been helping me test out stuff. Matthew, Al, meet my friends—Berwald, Mathias, Lukas, and Emil.”
“It’s good to meet you. It’s nice being able to put names to faces—”
“SICK! Yo, Mathias right? That hairstyle’s totally rad, you gotta show me how to do that sometime. Mine’s untameable unfortunately, but that’d be so cool to have it stand up like that!”
Emil nudged Tino’s arm. “Is he always this loud…?” he asked quietly as Mathias and Alfred descended into a conversation about hair products.
“Yep!”
“No wonder you two are friends.”
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tino’s question went unanswered as the clock tower struck the top of the hour and food appeared on the table, signaling the start of dinner.
Never mind, Tino thought as he was squeezed in between Berwald and Matthew, At least they’re all getting along, and that’s what matters to me.
.
The next few days were filled with Tino showing his friends around Hogwarts Castle as they settled in for the holidays.
Lukas, predictably, was drawn to the massive library, filled with centuries of textbooks and seemingly infinite knowledge. He quickly became well acquainted with both the portrait of Basil Fronsac and the portrait of Temeritus Shanks, using both frequently to avoid Mathias, who could never figure out where exactly Lukas had gone. Tino suspected that Lukas had found a couple more hidden passages, but if he did, the Norwegian wasn’t telling.
Mathias and Berwald found Quidditch partners in Alfred and Matthew. Between the three Scandinavians’ Durmstrang training, Matthew’s scary natural abilities, and Alfred’s unpredictability, it was a wonder that Madame Pomfrey hadn’t had to receive a visit from any of them with the wild matches they played. A Slytherin by the name of Luca Visser soon took to commentating the skirmishes, to the great amusement of the more athletic students still at the castle. Amusing because Luca could never quite follow what was happening, despite being good friends with Quidditch-loving Alfred and Ravenclaw team member Kiku Honda. And Tino was fairly certain he never missed a game. Nontheless, the Slytherin resorted to making things up on the spot to describe the various plays made, resulting in some rather interesting commentary for onlookers.
“Jones smacks that Bludger at Williams, who isn’t doing anything! Oh, Williams did a loop-de-loop around his broom, aaaaand the Bludger hits Densen’s broom handle—oh, that’s a rough one, but our Durmstrang visitor takes it in stride and easily overhands the Quaffle at Väinämöinen! Väinämöinen uses his broom handle to knock the Quaffle back! I have no idea what position Oxenstierna is playing, but he’s doing things! Hey, don’t slap the Bludger at me, I’m sorry! You’re a Beater this round, okay, I get it—hey, hold up, is that even a legal move? You’re not supposed to put other people in headlocks, right? Where’s the referee, anyways?”
Emil, who was supposed to be the referee, was using a disposable camera he’d bought off one of the Gryffindors to take funny photos of the match, and gleefully waved in Luca’s direction as he took another incriminating shot of Berwald and Mathias dogfighting in the air.
He did put the down the Muggle invention to join Tino in the evenings as the Finnish boy helped Hagrid care for the Castle’s various creatures. As he’d predicted, Emil had been thrilled by the sight of Witherwings and it was while they were feeding the hippogriff that Emil revealed where his pet puffin had gone.
Or, rather, the puffin had revealed himself, flying out of Emil’s inner coat pocket to perch on the second-year’s head.
Emil stiffened the moment he did so, eyes glancing at Tino warily.
“Oh! You still have him!” Tino exclaimed. “I was wondering about that.”
“I..uh, yeah…d-don’t tell anyone?” Emil’s shock quickly turned into desperation. “I’m not supposed to have him. The others know, but they’ve sworn to keep it secret—”
“Birds are banned from Durmstrang now, too?” Tino interrupted.
Emil shook his head. “Only approved ones. Mr. Puffin—he wouldn’t have been approved.”
The puffin bobbed its head, as if in agreement. It probably was. Tino vaguely remembered Emil saying he’d gotten the bird from a local magizoologist.
Ah, that probably explained it. Puffins weren’t exactly what one would consider “a common household pet”.
“Well, don’t worry,” Tino smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “I won’t tell anyone, and if someone notices, we’ll say that I got him. Pets are allowed at Hogwarts, so there shouldn’t be a problem, especially with so few people around.”
Emil breathed in and swallowed hard.
“I…”
“It’s really no problem at all. Just don’t show Hagrid, and we’re all good. Guy’s great, but he can’t keep his lips locked to save his life,” Tino told him.
Emil gave him a doubtful look.
“Plus, a puffin’s not a dragon or something, so I don’t think you’d get in trouble here for that. I mean, I’m pretty sure Arthur’s got a unicorn somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, and I could’ve sworn I saw Vlad talking to a bat once,” the Finnish boy rambled.
“A unicorn?” Emil gasped. “But aren’t those–”
“Rare, protected, and definitely not supposed to be tamed? Yeah, but it’s also Arthur Kirkland, and no one’s going to argue against his choice in pets when his dad’s this influential bloke in the Wizengamot and his mum’s a famous magizoologist.”
“Oh.” A pause. “Berwald’s parents are influential, and so are Mathias’, but they still get in trouble all the time.”
“It’s different in every place. Honestly, it’s a lot of politics, I wouldn’t recommend thinking too much about it.” Or at least, that’s what Tino assumed. He was a half-blood, his only connection to the magical world being through his father, a Muggle-born. He didn’t have the troubles of being newly wealthy, like the Bondeviks, or from an ancient line, like Berwald, or simply having a family history of magic-users like Mathias. But the wizarding political scene was probably not much different than what his mother often talked about with Muggle politics.
After all, if one thing could transcend worlds, it was the everlasting debate of who was right and who was wrong.
“Point is—as long as you're here, your puffin friend’s completely safe,” he finished.
Emil seemed to accept the response, to Tino’s relief, at least for now. Tino knew Emil wasn’t one to let things drop until he either had a satisfactory answer or was thoroughly distracted.
But it seemed it was enough for Emil to cautiously let his puffin freely roam their dormitory room that evening, upon which Mr. Puffin took the opportunity to garner all the pets and treats he could get.
.
“Väinämöinen, I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you now—we do not have spare copies of The Monster Book of Monsters, so—oh, you’ve come with Bondevik. Very well, then…let me know if you’re looking for anything in particular. There’s some reorganization being done.”
“Thanks, Madam Pince!” Tino beamed. “Would you happen to know where the—oh, what’s it called? Lukas, do you remember—huh? Lukas?”
Lukas, who only a moment before had been standing next to Tino, had basically vanished. Looking around, Tino saw no sight of the Norwegian, an impressive feat considering they’d been standing in the open lobby of the Hogwarts Library.
“...Well, then. Uh, nevermind. Lukas’s the one who knows the book’s title, so…” Tino chuckled nervously.
Madam Pince only sighed and waved him off. “Next time, write it down. You have quills, you have Muggle pens, you have parchment. Now shoo, and keep it down!”
“Yes, ma’am!” Tino saluted as he hurried deeper into the library, in search of Lukas.
Of course, he found the fourth-year hiding on a windowsill behind a shelf of fantasy novels, knees drawn up and his back against the window. A copy of Tales of Beadle the Bard was in his hands. If someone else were to stumble upon him, they’d have assumed he was simply pleasure reading on a nice winter afternoon.
Tino knew better. He might not have known Lukas or his brother as long as he’d known Berwald and Mathias, but two years and nearly every break was plenty of time to get to know someone. And he knew that when Lukas’s calm facade dropped, his go-to safe spot was the fantasy world found in fairytales and mythology.
Or the nearest troll cave, but they didn’t really have those in Scotland.
Upon drawing nearer, Tino could see Lukas’s tensed shoulders, and upon closer inspection, glazed eyes that didn’t at all follow the words on the page though his lips moved. Tino guessed he was reciting the familiar words by heart.
“Lukas? You alright?” he asked softly.
Lukas’s head snapped up, before his gaze landed on Tino and he relaxed slightly. He nodded mutely, his hands still grasping the book.
Definitely spooked, alright.
“What happened? You kind of left me hanging there…” Tino asked as he settled on the opposite end of the window seat.
Lukas tapped a finger against the book’s cover, seeming to think over Tino’s question.
Tino waited.
“...Not great with direct questions,” he finally said.
And that was that. He replaced the fairy tales on the proper shelf, before guiding the fifth-year to where he’d found the book he’d mentioned earlier.
He didn’t speak of it again, and Tino didn’t bring it up.
.
They were in their dorm when Tino finally asked the question.
Lukas was once again seated atop the wardrobe, balancing a book on history he’d gotten from the library across his crossed legs. Occasionally he’d shift, and the bubbles Mathias was making with his wand would hit the wall, to the Dane’s annoyance.
Emil was reclined against his headboard, him and his puffin eating licorice he’d probably stolen from the kitchen. He’d been doing that rather frequently after Tino had shown him where the entrance was, and Tino had watched in slight concern as the boy had made his way through bowl after bowl of licorice candy. Where and how the house-elves had found so much candy in the first place, he didn’t really care to know.
Berwald was across from Tino, the two facing each other from atop their respective beds as they exchanged and compared class notes. They’d found several discrepancies, mostly concerning their Charms and Transfiguration coursework.
“I’m so far behind with Transfiguration…” Tino moaned as he glanced over one of Berwald’s papers on the dangers of human transfiguration.”They’re still mostly teaching us to Transfigure one thing into another, none of the really fun stuff. I had to look up the incantation to change one’s hair color, and even then I had to write home for my Durmstrang textbooks so I could understand half of what I read. They don’t teach Human Transfiguration until the sixth year here, did you know?”
“Mm…”
“I know, right? And they wonder why Durmstrang students are so good at Transfiguration! I’ll have to start taking correspondence courses next semester at the rate I’m going, or I’ll have to take remedial classes next year. It’ll be so embarrassing if I have to drop Transfiguration of all classes…”
“You wouldn’t be able to take remedial classes,” Mathias told him. “They’ve almost completely removed those—Headmaster says it encourages laziness, having that failsafe.”
“Who would do such a thing?!” Tino exclaimed.
Mathias shrugged. “The new headmaster, of course.”
“What? What happened to Larson?”
“Dunno,” was the reply. “They never said, but there’s rumors.”
Tino returned Berwald’s homework to the growing stack beside him in favor of interrogating Mathias. “Of what? C’mon, tell me, Matt—I’ve heard absolutely nothing over here! Wizarding radio doesn’t really pick up reception and the Daily Prophet’s still going on about cauldron bottoms being flimsy.”
The Dane frowned. “Are you sure you want to know? It’s not pretty.”
“I don’t care. Just tell me!” Tino narrowed his eyes. “Hey, hold on a minute. Is this why you’ve all been acting so strange lately?”
“Strange?” Lukas asked, a single eyebrow raised. “How so?”
Tino huffed. “You know!” He waved his hand in the air, making vague gestures. “Just—I don’t know, it’s like you’ve all been a little off since you got here. Mostly Emil—”
“What’d I do?!”
“—but Mathias isn’t acting like he’s had too much to drink, and I know we're at school and all but this is Mathias we're talking about. That's like, his natural state to be loud and bouncing off the walls. Ber, I’ve seen you on the pitch—you keep glancing over your shoulder and you’re shakier than you used to be, like you aren’t completely sure of yourself. That’s totally weird, and don’t say it’s the unfamiliar space, I saw you the first time we went to the Bondeviks’. Emil's puffin--need I say more? And Lukas, I hate to bring it up, but you looked like you were about to piss yourself when Madame Pince saw you in the library just yesterday. Madame Pince. A librarian. In a library, your favorite place in the world.” Tino frowned. “Seriously, what’s going on? And no more weird secret looks. I don’t like it.” He crossed his arms and slumped against the footboard of his bed. "I want answers."
“We should tell him,” Berwald stated.
“He doesn’t need that shit in his life, Oxenstierna.” Mathias protested.
“So?” Lukas pressed.
“Might as well, he knows half of it already,” Emil grumbled. “Just do it and get it over with.”
Mathis huffed, folding his arms.
“Wingardium Leviosa.”
“HEY! Alright, fine! I get it! Let me down, Luka—ow! Alright!”
Tino and Emil snickered. Mathias couldn’t glare in two directions at once, and decided it was easier to just ignore the two for now.
“Okay, fine,” Mathias grumbled once Lukas let him down. “I’ll tell it and you lot can just add on if I miss anything, since I heard all the gossip.”
“This time, you have a point, but don’t leave anything out,” Emil told him.
Lukas and Berwald both agreed.
“Seriously? You guys don't trust me?”
Three head shakes and a curious look from Tino. Mathias sighed.
“Fine. Alright,” he said, before turning towards Tino. “Get comfy. So. You know how Larson was pretty good except for never really keeping much of a public profile?”
Tino nodded. “I’d always figured it was because the last guy was Karkaroff, and he gave the school a pretty bad rep.”
“Yeah. Anyways, people figure that because no one really could get much from him, someone decided to take their chance and oust him, probably into retirement or something. No one knows. All we know is that one day, Larson was in the hall eating dinner with everyone like he always does, and at breakfast the next day we had Bielke.”
“From the House of Bielke?”
Lukas was the one to answer this time, from still atop the dresser.
“We think so, or at least a branch of it,” he began. “The Bielkes are one of the wealthiest and long-standing Wizarding families in northern Europe, a bit like the Oxenstiernas. They’d never admit it, but like Berwald’s family, they’ve got roots in the Muggle world. But of course, what really matters is whether he’s from the main pureblood line…”
“...or from a Muggle line with the same name,” Emil finished.
Tino hummed as he went over this new bit of information. “So, I bet you went looking?”
“Of course we did!” Mathias exclaimed.
“You mean Berwald did,” Emil corrected.
“Mhm.”
“Who did not find anything except a lot of really cute baby photos.”
“Was my house-elf.”
“He was cute,” Emil snickered. Berwald looked like he wanted to protest, but instead hid his red cheeks behind his arms.
Tino moved so he could nudge Berwald’s foot with his own in condolence as Lukas finished. “Lineage is hard to trace back, anyways. As long as he claims to be from a central line and no one opposes him, he can claim whatever he wants.”
“And he sure has the money for it,” Mathias agreed.
“None of the respect, though,” Emil said. “Berwald’s pulled a detention like every week thanks to Bielke.”
“Mhm.” Berwald’s face was still hidden by his arms, but somehow, his singular word came through crystal clear with annoyance.
“Wait, what—?” Tino stared at the usually-quiet Swedish boy. “Ber? In detention? Are we talking about the same guy who literally gets away with everything just by saying nothing? The 'model student' of Durmstrang Institute?”
“His resting bitch face doesn’t work on Bielke,” Emil said helpfully.
“‘Everywhere, there are ears, everywhere, there are eyes. Nothing escapes from his knowledge’,” Mathias said, waving his hands in the air in air quotes.
Tino rested his face in his hands, trying to process everything.
“I think we broke him,” Emil offered helpfully.
“No, just—give me a moment.”
They gave him a moment.
“So, you’re saying that you have an Umbridge at your school,” Tino finally managed, after a good minute of thinking.
Four pairs of confused faces greeted him.
“What’s an Umbridge?” Mathias asked. “I’m pretty sure this guy’s human.”
“Not an it. A who,” Tino corrected. “We learned about her in History of Magic. Or, rather, the twins and I were looking for a list of the greatest pranks pulled at Hogwarts and we found it in the most recent seventh-year History of Magic textbook. There were some good ones in there, I think we could possibly do something with those Whiz-bangs. Maybe combine it with the Diarrhea Dots…?”
Berwald nudged him. “Tino. Focus.”
Tino jolted, having momentarily gotten lost in his ideas.
“Huh? Oh, right. Umbridge. Former Ministry official-turned-Hogwarts-dictator. No one liked her because she put a bunch of really dumb rules into place and played favorites. Last I heard,” he grinned, “she’s in Azkaban serving a life sentence. She had some really scary stuff—quills that used the writer’s own blood for ink, for example. It makes even the worst professors look like saints!”
“Blood quills,” Berwald mused. “I’ve seen them. They are very painful.”
Tino grabbed Berwald’s hands, checking them over in concert. “You’ve felt them?” To his relief, the only marks on the Swedish boy’s hands were calluses from his broom-riding and woodworking hobbies.
“My family owns one. My brother tried using it once.”
“Of course he did,” Tino sighed in relief, and dropped the other’s hands. “So, this ‘Bielke’ guy is why you’re all acting odd?”
“Probably,” Mathias affirmed.
“Most definitely yes,” Emil replied.
Lukas gave a sharp nod.
Berwald only made a small noise, but it didn’t sound entirely like a no.
Tino whistled. “Yikes.”
“You’re telling us. You were smart to include the letter of approval from your Headmistress, or we’d have been stuck there all of break, what with the new underage magic regulations the higher-ups have been putting out lately,” Mathias told him. “Thanks for that, by the way. Uh, really sorry all of the work you probably put into those sweaters went to waste, though.”
“It’s fine. I get it now. Mostly. You couldn’t have done anything–it’s not the end of the world.” Tino smiled sadly.
It fell silent in the room, the only sounds coming from the low buzzing of the table lamps.
“Hey—how about this?” Tino suddenly piped up. “While you’re here, I’ll take you down to Hogsmeade, and we can get you guys filled up on all the candy you’ve been deprived of as of late? If Emil and his licorice is anything to go by, I’m betting you haven’t had good sugar high in weeks.”
“Or butterbeer,” Lukas added.
“Or firewhisky! Can you believe it, my stash was discovered?” Mathias threw up his hands in mock despair. “My alcohol, all gone!”
Tino lit up with excitement. “Oh, then you’ll love this!” he exclaimed, hopping off his bed. “C’mon—enough serious talk! We’ve got just a bit more than a week, and I know exactly where Ivan hides his vodka! We can have a little pre-celebration for Christmas! ”
“Hell yeah! Bring on the booze!”
“Bring on the booze!”
Tino, followed closely by Mathias, raced out the door in pursuit of their favorite drink, ignoring any and all British laws they might have been breaking.
If they’d looked back, they might have seen Lukas thoughtfully gazing at Tino’s open trunk, where a copy of A History of Magic: Book Seven was being tugged into view by Emil’s puffin.