Henrick Hanz and the Demon of Durmstrang

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of the characters within. That is the soul intellectual rights of JK... I am using her character and situations and world without her permission. I also am not making any money off of this.

Chapter 1

Crimson toned sails crested the horizon. The blood colored cloths dripped as they emerged ever so slowly from beneath the sea of dark and choppy waves. The largest mast rose from the water, followed by two smaller ones before and behind it. The large wooden frigate that just breeched was greeted by a strange group of young people. They were all gathered upon a foggy dock. The young people ranged in age from eleven to nearly an adult. There were very few true adults gathered. Each adult was cloaked and secretive, showing very little open concern for the children about to depart upon the ship. They did not dare, even if they had wanted to. To do so would only seal their child’s fate for the rest of a very long year. For this ship was a Durmstrang ship. The children were the young witches and wizards that went to the harsh and often unforgiving Dark Magic Institute.

In the last four years, the largest of the waiting students had grown used to the impressive sight and sounds of the arrival of the magical vessel. This year however, the ship was markedly smaller than normal. It might have been difficult to tell if one did not possess an exacting attention to detail the massive soon to be firth year student had. The reason behind the slightly smaller ship was quite a source of annoyance to him. The much larger ship was indisposed, carrying the best of the best of Durmstrang towards a far off English school of magic for the year, in order to compete in the Tri-Wizard tournament.

Henrick Hanz had been extended the offer to go. He didn’t wait for more than three seconds to answer the request with a harsh and obstinate “No!” It was pointless to go as a part of the entourage. For one, he was far too young to be allowed to compete. He had no questions that there would be only one Durmstrang student who would ever seriously be considered for such an honor. Everyone else was accompanying that person for one reason alone. That reason was to show the absolute strength and power of the students at Durmstrang. There was no other explanation as to why hr had been invited to come along.

It was obvious as there were very few students larger than him. Within the past two school years, Henrick had been besieged by the first of many growth spurts. Very quickly, he had gained the size recognized as a Hanz family trait. At the age of fifteen, he already stood well over six feet tall. He had filled out in other ways as well. Along with his height, he’d continued to gain muscle. He was twice as big as most the young men waiting for the ship. If only invited for his massive frame, he would never go. There was just no point at all in going to such a weak school. He would rather die than sacrifice an important year of schooling upon such a frivolous trip.

Besides, though he had tried hard to separate himself from other students, he could lot just up and leave, if only because they could not come with. She could probably live without him for a year, but Hanz seriously doubted the other could. He was sure that the young Egyptian boy who had latched into him was already valiantly trying to defend a spot for him on the ship. In fact, he also expected to see Nessmont standing on the ships forward bow, waving to him. He expected it, but knew it would never happen. Ever. Because he would not allow such a display. He might have more or less adopted the kid out of some latent cry of humanity, but he only allowed it to remain so long as it was kept a secret. In private, he would watch over the golden eyed boy as a brother would, but in public, he had to be just as harsh and dismissive as he was to anyone else.

As usual, it was not Nessmont that greeted him. It was her. It was her and he wished that for once, Fiona would just stay on the boat. She had always been rather expressive and clingy towards him. It was almost an annoying tradition, just as waiting in the fog for the ship was. The ship would dock, the gang plank was lowered. Before the gaggle of students could flock onto the ship, one very petite red haired girl would shove her way through the crowd and latch herself to his arm. And as tradition dictated, he’d stand there in abject and awkward silence as she pressed her body against his hard arm.

In her all too shrill voice; Fiona would then call out for all to hear her, as if making sure everyone knew she was together with Hanz again. “Eisen! It’s simply been too long!” Her small fist landed ineffectively against his hardened flesh. “Why didn’t you write me over the summer? I told you to write me!”

Henrick just closed his mercury shaded eyes and took a deep steadying breath. It wasn’t because her voice had a very annoying quality to it. It did, but after many years of hearing it, he’d gown immune to the sound. He wasn’t trying to calm himself because she had hit him. He had barely felt the blow. The steadying breath was taken to reign in his temper at the nickname. He’d definitely not chosen it for himself and recently it had started to take on a life of its own. Out of the blue, Fiona had started calling him that. Eisen…Her slight French accent managed the German word for iron.

“Fraulein Fiona.” His words seemed to rumble deep within his chest. Gone were the awkward vocal changes of second and third year. Like his body, his voice had filled out to a rich and booming bass. “Did I not tell ju to stop calling me zhat?” The booming voice made his horrendously thick German accent sound four times worse. “Und ju know…I do not vrite letters to anyone.” It was a lie, though a carefully rehearsed one. He wrote letters, but only to one individual other than the mandatory letters to his parents. That person, however, had to remain a secret. Thus the reason he never wrote letters. So that it wouldn’t be suspect. Still, she didn’t have to know that.

Fiona sighed and pulled her head away from its resting place against his arm to glare at him. The baleful emerald stare did nothing to affect or frighten Henrick. He’d received more hateful looks from his own mother. “I’ll stop calling you that when you stop calling me fraulein. It’s demeaning. I’m far from a little girl.” Her body pressed against his arm again. As she squished into his arm, he could feel a far more evil glare from behind him. It was something he usually felt once at Durmstrang, but something he normally dismissed.

He pulled his arm away roughly. It wasn’t like Henrick enjoyed being touched, which he didn’t. He didn’t do it because of the stare. He just hated to make people wait. Last thing he wanted was for his school year to start off by repelling a curse thrown at him by a sixth year. And especially no that specific sixth year: Burkov. After all, it had been like this ever since least year, when Fiona had turned Burkov down for a date.

Even before that event had taken place, really. In Hanz’s opinion, the gaunt Russian was an idiot and a bully. That boy had always taken delight in the physical harming of weaker students for younger years. It was Burkov that Henrick had initially rescued Nessmont from. To Hanz, that form of bullying was a weakness itself. Once in which he refused to indulge. But Burkov was an idiot. He was a total moron, because on more than one occasion, the older boy had attempted to attack Henrick. Each attempt had been met with a swift and painful rebuke from the much larger German. There had never been any love between them. But recently the animosity had been escalating. The level raised a bit more on Burkov’s end every time that the brown haired wizard saw Fiona clinging to the muscled German.

“Ve are holding up zhe line.” He stated, almost too calmly, as if the looks he was getting meant less than nothing. “Zhe sooner ve get on board, zhe sooner ve get to school.” With that, the large teem started his way up the plank and onto the ship. He only paused a moment to give a glance towards a much younger male student, as if to say to him ‘no worries, I’ve come back’.

Passing by the lad, he quickly found a hard wooden bench to sit upon. There was no surprise when Fiona sat next to him, already chattering away about her summer and how much she hoped he’d go on holiday with her sometime. Once more Henrick tuned the russet haired girl out. He was mentally preparing himself for the disquieting feeling that overtook him each time the Durmstrang school ship submerged to take them to the hidden castle where the remainder of the year would play out.