Henrick Hanz and the Demon of Durmstrang

Chapter 4

Classes always started right after breakfast. For those who liked to keep on, it was always most difficult to make it to the first class of the day. Henrick never had that trouble. E always woke at the same time every morning. Right before dawn broke his mail bird would arrive at his window. The massive eagle never appeared with the mail along with the other currier birds. After Rheinheardt had attacked and eaten a stray mail own last Christmas, the bird had been given permission to make deliveries straight to Hanz’s window. It did make his secret correspondences that much easier on him. But to throw off any suspicions, the eagle arrived each day, even if he had no mail so that Hanz could feed him breakfast. Henrick wondered if any of the students would notice the sudden disappearance of their beloved pet rats. Not that he cared. He did what he had to in order to keep that bird healthy and happy. Besides, it was the owner’s fault if they couldn’t keep an eye on their precious darling vermin.

After feeling the massive eagle, it was time to feed himself. As always, Fiona would be waiting, bleary eyed. She liked to sleep in, yet somehow, she always seemed to make up just long enough to come from the girl’s wing to wish him a good morning before tottering back off to bed. He didn’t claim to understand why it was so important for her to do it. He also didn’t ask why in resent years, her night clothing seemed to be growing more and more see through. He’d greet her and then exit into the castle proper, where a secondary morning greeting always took place. Every morning, Burkov would wait outside the exit, for Fiona no doubt. Something else he honestly didn’t claim to understand, or even want to.

Early breakfast was one of the few times he could talk openly to Nessmont. With so few students awake and functional at that hour, it was much safer to treat the smaller boy kindly. He didn’t think the kid would have need of him quite yet. Bullies might target Ness because of his questionable lineage, but he didn’t expect to see it so soon into the year. It always was a relief to pass the kid and not have to worry. The boy, after all, had once told Henrick that he had no family. Family had meant so very little to Henrick back then he’d first learned about Ness. But now, despite all his efforts, his position as secret big brother had asserted itself. Though he’d never directly speak to the younger boy in public, the huge firth year always went out of his way to pass that last table in the back of the room to survey the condition of the younger male.

It was indeed far too early in the year. Ness was still unharmed. Deep down he wondered just how long it would be before he was smuggling the kid into his room and hunting down the culprit. As he passed, he muttered. “Haf a gutt jear. Und be safe. He’s on zhe varpath already.” His voice was possibly the kindest it ever got.

A look from golden metallic eyes seemed to say his message was understood. The morning rituals taken care of, he sat at his usual table. But not before glairing at the poster of the Quidditch Star sitting at it’s place of honor. Each day he saw it, it was enough to almost make him lose his appetite. Almost.

He’d not. Not when the fist class of the day was enough to do that all on it’s own. Fifth year Care of Magical Creatures had always been rumored to be the most revolting class imaginable (other than potions). As years of study progressed, the creatures grew increasingly dangerous. It was obvious by the state of the man who taught it. Henrick had never seen a person more mangled in his life. Professor Gregor had not a place on his body that was not scared. It was said that he lost his arm while being a creature tamer at a wizarding circus. To believe his stories, his left leg had been a meal for a dragon. No one knew how he’s managed to lose his eye. He was simply a very rough, tough Romanian.

That class was held in the far end of terrible extensive grounds. Early morning usually covered everything in a thick mist. As usual, the wiry, mangled man emerged from the fog with a deadly serious look upon his tattered face. He did not wait to start his lecture. A lecture that always started the same way, with the professor belittling his students.

“Look at you all. Fifth year already. I bet you think you know everything now. That you don’t need Old Man Gregor’s lessons any longer. You thought wrong! Listen up, you stupid weak little aristocrats, and you might actually survive this class. Hell, you might even make it to sixth year.”

Henrick just stood to the back of the gaggle of disquiet students. In all his classes, he took to the very back. Part of it was out of a since of politeness that he could not kill off. He knew his head and shoulders would get in the way of those behind him. It was also out of self-preservation. In that back of the class, he could better hide his reliance in a German Language edition of the school texts. Luckily, care of Magical Creatures did not require a text. Unluckily, it meant more of the professors inspired speeches.

“Today, I’m not going to play around. Today, I’m going straight to death, so you little boys and girls better pay attention. I imported this lovely all the way from the Emerald isles. She’s a distant cousin of the dementors and is known to be a harbinger of death. So feel damn lucky, as a lovely lady like this isn’t one you’ll see often. And feel even luckier that she won’t sing to you…her sound means death is at hand.” As the man talked, a strange figure seemed to float towards the group from somewhere in the trees.

She was beautiful in her ghastliness. In a way, the lonely, lovely being reminded him of a girl he’d once called his only friend and companion. He swiftly forced that from him mind to pay attention to what the man was saying. He didn’t have time to reminisce. He had cut those ties; he did not need to be bound up in them again. Besides, this was a banshee…This was a creature from that far off place Krumm was visiting.

As the creature floated around the students, the teacher continued his demeaning talk, informing his unworthy students upon all there was to know about the creature, trying to ignore that expression of sadness upon that wan face. She continued her solitary journey as if in her own world until she stopped before a blond girl Hanz only barely knew.

The creature’s expression suddenly changed. Next to him, he felt a hand grab him. Fiona…he knew that feel. He didn’t hold back. He was too focused upon what was happening. The death harbinger’s lips parted and the sound that came was so dark, so desolate, that it stuck Hanz to the bone. The creature had started to wail. He felt a shiver. It wailed at the blond girl and the girl was screaming back. The banshee just cried louder until the scared professor blasted the doomsayer with a silence charm. The girl was collapsing even as the banshee, confused and silenced, flew back into the vast expanse of Austrian woodland. The last words he’d heard the professor saying was about how long death took to claim one who had heard the wail of the banshee. Three days…