The Durmstrang ship was very much like the Hogwarts Express, except instead of compartments, it had cabins of similar size with nearly identical furnishings. And rather than being arranged in a straight row, thanks to the height of the ship's hull, there were cabins above and below as well.
Instead of mountain landscapes, we could enjoy seascapes, both above and below the water. The ship — nameless, by the way, simply called the Durmstrang Ship — moved remarkably smoothly, without any rocking. Its underwater speed clearly rivaled that of modern submarines.
The journey took its time, allowing first-years to get acquainted and older students to catch up with friends, discuss their holidays, and chat about the upcoming school year.
"...Who on earth assigns students to cabins like this?" Erika huffed indignantly for what seemed like the hundredth time, every time she heard the excited shouts of the soon-to-be first-years from the neighboring cabin.
I can't say I don't understand her.
"As our previous Headmaster used to say... a great mystery. I suppose only the professors know. However, none of our families have been Durmstrang staff for a long time, so even I don't know anything about it." I explained, taking a more lenient and indifferent approach to the children's excitement. Those are useful traits if one intends to survive seven years in a castle full of children, both younger and older, with only about a dozen adults for several hundred students.
"You could always sacrifice yourself and become a teacher to make life easier for future generations of students." Ivan drawled lazily, his voice tinged with barely hidden glee as he lounged in his seat like it was a sofa.
He was someone completely unaffected by the surrounding noise. No matter how you look at it, he's like a male Berehynia. (Slavic deity)
"In your dreams. When I'm done with Durmstrang, I'll only remember these days in nightmares, which, I hope, I won't have." Erika snorted, her blue eyes practically glowing with irritation.
Her right eye had even begun to twitch suspiciously. Mmm... if she ever has children (though as the second daughter, and the younger one at that, children aren't obligatory for her), I already feel sorry for them. She clearly despises noisy little ones to the core.
Yep, I sure am lucky with the company of women.
"It's not so bad, Erika. Adults should be understanding of such antics." Karpishin, true to his ever-good-natured character (there's no other way to describe it), added.
"And that's what infuriates me even more!" the girl practically growled, flopping back into her seat.
"I hope their noise attracts the Berehynias and provokes them into vengeful actions... Those creatures haven't been dissected in ages, and surely some of their organs would be very useful in potions... And I'm sure the information on their internal anatomy is outdated…" Gertrude added, without taking her eyes off the landscape outside the porthole.
"If those ladies ever found out what you want to do to them, you'd secure the top spot on their prank list." I chuckled quietly, twirling a lock of my blonde ponytail around my finger out of boredom.
There wasn't much to do. We all knew perfectly well how each of us had spent our holidays, and there were no surprising news from the magical world to chat about... Durmstrang, it seemed, wasn't expecting any major changes either.
Talking to them about my, well, it sounds funny, but manipulations and intrigues — or at least something resembling them — didn't seem necessary. The only one more or less interested in that stuff was Erika, but she was too… Let's just say, too straightforward. It's no wonder she gets along with Ivan despite his love for teasing.
Yeah, in our group, my cunning — as Ivan so originally called it at one point — is well balanced, or rather neutralized, by their bluntness.
So, while they carry out tasks for me that shouldn't be discussed openly, they don't take much interest in the details of what they're doing. On one hand, that's good: trust and all that, plus I really don't need any surprises. But on the other hand… I could definitely use a capable assistant. A leader's prerogative is not only to find good executors but also to find competent aides and advisors, those willing to delve into this whole mess. Unfortunately, I haven't found anyone like that yet.
Theoretical candidates don't inspire much confidence.
"Has anyone seen Greta and Marta?" Erika asked after some time had passed.
"Mmm… I saw them with their friends from the Gryphon group," I said, frowning slightly as I recalled our two classmates.
They were Hungarians, both from pure-blood families. Greta was the second daughter of the Balogne family, while Marta — whom Ivan openly pined after—was the eldest daughter of the Faragone family. Interestingly, their families had a significant ancestral lineage, but leadership and power didn't seem to interest them much.
In a sense, among our group, they were the only "true" aristocrats, as they're often portrayed in various entertainment works. They were into fashion, boys, and gossip — can't go without that.
There wasn't much psychological division between the Houses at Durmstrang, unlike the four Houses at Hogwarts. Everyone here was pure-blood, with only national colorings distinguishing them. That's why these two young ladies had a whole bunch of friends across the institute, and occasionally, they brought back a wealth of interesting information — often without realizing how important it was or how excellent their spy network had become.
In short, if they weren't gossip-mongers, they were pretty close. I should probably find them some intelligence agency manuals; that would really get things running smoothly.
"And of course, those two dunces aren't anywhere to be found either," the German girl scowled, rubbing her temples.
I understood perfectly well who she meant by those two "dunces," who had, to their surprise, become her errand boys.
Both were half-bloods, even though they had grown up in the magical world, they never stood much of a chance against Erika. Despite her family not being particularly ancient, they were certainly not poor and had firmly established themselves among the upper echelons of Eastern Europe's pure-blood society a couple of generations ago.
I understood them in the sense that I could relate to their desire to spend as much time as possible in, well, "freedom." My own maman sometimes reminded me of Erika, yep… That's probably why the two of them had such a long conversation when they first met. I suspect that if I didn't have more interesting marriage prospects, my dear mother would already be dropping a lot of not-so-subtle hints.
Aren't I just the luckiest?
...If you ignore the likely candidates for my future wife, of course.
"There's not much time left, anyway. You'll see them at the pier," I shrugged, returning to the bliss of doing absolutely nothing.
Looks like I'd picked up a bit of that attitude from Ivan.
As for the boys... hang in there, guys. You'll be working for Erika at least until graduation, and given your lack of connections in the magical world... it looks like you'll be working for her for the rest of your lives. Or you'll have to run. Somewhere to South Africa.