Monday. June 5, 1989. Cloudy.
"Viktor!"
It is Romanov, Viktor's uncle.
"How is my favourite nephew doing? Hahaha, are you all set? Aren't you excited? Do you need help?"
Romanov asked his nephew with concern and joy. He tried to insist for Viktor to stay with them in their family mansion but was refused by the then only five year old boy.
"Boromir, come greet your cousin."
A tall but thin boy about 11 years old came closer. He had green eyes, pale white skin, and light brown hair.
"Hey Viktor, ahh..... I mean Master Krum."
'Timid as always.' Viktor smiled genuinely. He liked his relatives very much as they are an honest and warm bunch of people. A rare thing in his past life, something his spirit craved like a refreshing breeze of spring.
"Don't be too formal with me cousin. Its been what.... Five or six years? You have grown a lot I must say."
Viktor held his cousin's arm and shook it then looked back to his uncle.
"Let's go? The ship to Durmstrang wouldn't wait for anyone will it?" Viktor stated cooly.
"Ughh. You have grown cold my nephew, not a reply to my letters for over five years. I am proud that you chose to man up and stand strong at the time, but still I think you should have spent those years with us. We're your only family now after all."
Romanov genuinely cared for Viktor's well being and never forgot to send him letters to check on him all those years. He even came by sometimes only to find out that Viktor is occupied with family matters.
"I must say that you have grown a lot in these years on your own and I'm sure your parents would be glad if they can see you now. They would have been proud of you."
Romanov spoke with a teasingly hurt expression in his face at first but he became more serious as he went on.
"Less talk father. We will be late because you talk too much."
Boromir who felt like the situation demands it cut off the heavy atmosphere and reprimanded his father with an embarrassed expression, he knew his cousin Victor was the serious sort who didn't dabble in wasting his breath on both jokes and drama. He grabbed his father's arm and his cousin. His father on the other hand showed an exaggeratedly hurt expression.
The three apparated into muggle Oslo where they walked to an alleyway and entered the solid wall marked with a mural of Durmstrang's crest, a deer skull and a two headed phoenix.
What greeted them is the strong gales of winds and the fresh smell coming from the vast body of saltwater. They are now in a floating port in the middle of the sea, from afar, they could see the masted ship of Durmstrang in all its majesty. It has three decks, five masts, and an almost an ancient skeletal appearance. It is lined with all sorts of enchantments but still its utility is very low at the current era, its sole purpose being used as ceremonial transportation device for first year students.
'My ship is still the best. But I'm still not going to be the pirate King who can't swim. Hahahahaha.'
Snickering at his own thoughts he looked around and found many youngsters along with their parents, some are already boarding the ship, while others are talking to their peers in leisure as they walked towards the ship.
After exchanging pleasantries with his uncle, they finally said their goodbyes and soon, he and Boromir boarded the ship.
The feeling one would get when inside the ship is very similar to that of the inside of a military encampment. Most seniors are occupied with training their spells in duels, some training in hand to hand combat, some held weapons blunt and bladed, some are resting and some are reading.
'There's more students than I expected.'
Durmstrang Institute does not accept muggleborn wizards since its establishment in 1294 by Nerida Vulchanova, and so most of the students present in this ship are of pureblood origin while a minority is of half-blood origin. This initially caused Viktor to believe that such an elitist school will have less and less students. Another thing is the impact brought about by Gillert Grindelwald in the second wizarding war.
'Old lady Natalia Orbis Medved of the northern bear clan is doing a great job as a headmaster so it seems.'
The ship left the port and travelled south. It stopped by in other similar floating ports where more students climbed aboard.
The long journey to Durmstrang took a whole week. When the ship resurfaced, a huge medieval castle atop the tall cliffs appeared in the horizon. The huge medieval castle is four storey tall and black seems to be its color motif which actually made it quite easy on the eye for someone who loved black like Viktor.
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The castle is very large, considering that it is smaller than Hogwarts according to the books, one can only imagine how big Hogwarts is and admire the four founders who built it. The school is surrounded by tall white capped mountains and huge lakes. It has extensive grounds surrounded by 12 meter high enchanted stone walls.
"Welcome to Durmstrang first years! I am Professor Orlov, follow me."
A huge symbol consisting of a horizontal line in the middle of an equilateral triangle inside a circle appeared near the gates of Durmstrang. To many people in the institute it is a symbol of one of the most dangerous dark lord in the history of the magical world, Gillert Grindelwald while only a few knowledgeable people knew that this symbol is actually related to the deathly hollows.
"Isn't that the symbol left behind by dark lord Grindelwald?"
"Yes, yes. Did you know...."
"My father told me..."
Murmurs from the students, mostly the freshmen could be heard here and there as they passed the portion of the wall where the symbol is written or more like vandalised. Kids loved to brag about their experience and knowledge to their peers specially these spoiled noble brats.
They arrived in a vast field where the seniors are already lined up according to their year and height like in the military. It is not wrong to call it a martial school as discipline can be observed in all students.
The first years are placed in front of the seniors in a single file perpinducular to the lines formed by the seniors.
"A pleasant afternoon... To all of us. I headmaster Medved on behalf of the school force, would like to welcome the first years into Durmstrang Institute. You have travelled long and are tired I'm sure, but we must honor tradition so none can rest before it. Now, let us begin the initiation..."
The first years have confusion written all over their faces, no one really ever talked about the process of initiation done in Durmstrang.
"I can see that none of you are aware of it. Let me explain. Initiates, that means you first years, will be allowed to challenge an upper-class man....."
The hot blooded purebloods who took pride in their respective family skill inheritance became greatly excited of course some untalented chaps feared for their wellbeing but didn't show how they felt outwardly. Most of them are trained from a young age in their family skills and magic theory and being able to show their prowess in front of everyone to prove their superiority put them high in the clouds while imagining the praises they are about to receive.
That is of course until the headmaster shushed everyone to let her finish.
"Alright,... In this test, no one is allowed to use their wands, but magic is allowed. I believe none of you is foolish enough to gravely injure your opponent, if you are ever capable of wandless casting which I doubt most of you could then be careful with your spells. This will also be the basis for your rank in the future so I advise you freshmen to take it very seriously."
'Such a thing exists huh.... I wonder how capable these purebloods are. Hahaha it seems like its time to have some fun.'
As Viktor was thinking excitedly to himself, the field where the freshmen stood is in deep silence. They are just eleven years old right now and there is a great chance that none of them trained their body for physical combat as it may be detrimental to their growth if proper precautions are not taken.
Those who did train would have an edge of a year or so, but compared to the seniors in front of them who are methodically trained by the school, that edge is as good as shit. This must have been a practice to dampen the overly swelling ego of the young generation of wizards.