"Confringo!" A boy shouted out while trying his best to dodge the heavy tree sized fist of Bob.
After lunch it had been dueling time, and after much persuasion fila had accepted to summon him. Only to let students try to beat him themselves, none had managed so far.
The giant fist of the tree giant connected with the boy, throwing him just outside the designated dueling ring.
"Oh." Everyone said as he took the hit, as it could be felt and heard in the whole hall.
Meanwhile fila sat by the side and just looked at her creation.
The hall had gone from excited chatter to stunned silence after the latest boy went flying. A few older students were openly staring, while the younger ones looked torn between awe and terror.
Sofia, sitting beside Fila on the bench, let out a low whistle. "You just… made that. On command. And he listens to you?"
Fila shrugged, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips. "He's friendly. Mostly. I told him to go easy."
Aleksei who stood just to her side had looked at the creation for some time, "But how do you even make it. or even make it move?"
He seemed to be a person who wanted to understand magic more than to just use them, something Ophelia respected a lot since it showed who is actually intelligent and not just some casual wizard or witch.
"Well, I down really know. I use a bit of magic to create him, and then I just tell him what to do in my head. He is more or less an image of me, but in a four meter tall tree form." She couldn't describe it better, because in full honestly she had no fucking clue how she does half the things she does. With time these things had become second nature for her.
Aleksei still looked like he was trying to solve a particularly stubborn equation. "That's… not how magic is supposed to work. At least not the way they teach it here. You're basically giving life to something and then controlling it with your mind?"
Fila shrugged again, watching as a couple of brave (or foolish) students poked at the patch of flowers Bob had left behind. One of them yelped when a tiny vine playfully wrapped around his finger before letting go.
"It's not exactly life," she said, trying to find the words. "More like… an extension. I pour some of my magic into the ground, shape it with intent, and Bob does the rest. He's part of me in a way. He feels what I want without me having to say it out loud."
Sofia leaned in closer, eyes wide. "That's brilliant. And terrifying. Can you make one that does my homework?"
Fila laughed. "Probably. But he'd eat the parchment. He's not great with delicate things."
The group around them chuckled, the tension from the demonstration easing into easy banter. A few more students drifted over, asking questions about the giant, about her magic, about the tournament. Fila answered what she could, keeping the darker details light. No one needed to know about the prison or anything other than that, somethings are better left under a bit of dirt.
Durmstrang had a very strict hierarchy amongst the students, as well as among the professor but that was usual for every school.
Duels made you see who was strongest, and as result they would be treated better than someone who lost. And how do you know who to respect and not to? The invincible scoreboard.
Its not an actual scoreboard, but an organization among the students keeping track of everyone in the whole school. They knew who lost to who and who won against who.
No one knew who these students were, as they were randomly selected by the prefects at the start of each year.
Their sole job was to keep track on everyone. In return they would have their homework done, chores completed and even laundry done for them. luxury hidden in shit as Aleksei said, because there wasn't really any freedom connected to the role. One your selected you have to watch each and every match.
Fila raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "So it's like an underground ranking system. No one knows who's keeping score, but everyone cares about the results."
"Exactly," Aleksei said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "It keeps things honest. You can't hide weak performances. And if you climb high enough… well, people listen when you speak."
Sofia grinned, still watching the last few students poke cautiously at Bob's flower patch. "You're already on it, by the way."
Fila looked surprised and looked at both Sofia and Aleksei, "I am?"
They both nodded, "You think being a fucking champion isn't going to make you feared and popular here?" Aleksei said.
Fila let out a short, dry laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "I was kind of hoping for a quiet start. Blend in a bit. Apparently that ship sailed the second I stepped off the boat."
Sofia grinned, clearly enjoying her discomfort. "No chance." she said while chewing on some dried reindeer meat. Something Fila had tasted and really enjoyed, it had this wild taste with some smoke mixed into it. "There were a lot of betting here during the matches, a lot of them bet on that one girl… what was her name?"
"Yumi?"
"Yeah that one, I actually thought she had the best chance." Sofia said while looking mildly disappointed.
Fila looked at her, "You bet on her didn't you?"
Her shoulders just slumped down in disappointment.
Fila couldn't help but laugh. "You bet against me? Bold choice."
Sofia gave her a sheepish grin, popping another piece of the smoked reindeer meat into her mouth. "In my defense, Yumi looked unstoppable on paper. Fast, precise, and she had that whole 'smiling while crushing people' thing going for her. I lost a week's worth of desserts on that bet."
As dueling wasn't a graded subject and just a thing for stundets to use, it meant that they had to get back to class right after. And now? Ancient runes.
Ancient runes was something Fila hadn't started yet as it was a fourth year class even at Ilvermorny and it was optional, maybe doing it here would give her an headstart.
The classroom for Ancient Runes was tucked deep in one of the lower levels of the castle, a long rectangular room with low vaulted ceilings and walls covered in faded tapestries depicting ancient symbols and forgotten spells. The air smelled of old parchment, ink, and faintly of burnt herbs, probably from previous classes where someone had tried a little too hard with a rune sequence.
Professor Borg was a short, stocky man with a thick gray beard and sharp eyes that seemed to miss nothing. He didn't waste time on pleasantries when the fourth-years filed in.
"Sit. Today we review basic protective runes. Those of you who think you already know them, prove it. Those who don't pay attention or you'll end up with your own boots fused to the floor."
Fila took a seat near the back, intrigued despite the lingering chill in her bones. Runes had always felt like a puzzle she hadn't quite cracked yet precise, demanding, and full of hidden power. She pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and her quill, watching as Professor Borg demonstrated a simple shielding rune on the board.
The class was quieter than Charms had been, the focus intense. Students traced symbols in the air or on their desks, the faint glow of successful runes lighting up the room in soft blue and silver. Fila tried her hand at the basic shield, her quill moving carefully. The rune flared to life under her fingers, stronger than most around her, with faint green threads of her own magic weaving through the lines.
Professor Borg stopped by her desk, eyebrows raised. "Interesting variation, Grindelwald." and then moved on.
In truth she had no clue what she was doing, but something happened and it made it right somehow.
Runes were basically like charm but more stable and could be etched onto things. This made it last a lot longer, and it wouldn't go away if the wizard or witch stopped, or even died.
Meaning she could place this on a rock, or even necklace for a good shield or heating even.
But something she wanted to really know. "Professor?" she raised her hand and called out. He turned and gave her a look and nodded. "What if you etched this onto your own body? Would it even work?"
The professor stroked his thick beard, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "A bold question, Grindelwald. Most fourth-years are still struggling not to burn their fingers off with basic sequences."
He walked back to her desk, tapping the glowing rune she had drawn.
"In theory? Yes. It can be done. Runes etched into living flesh are incredibly powerful because they draw directly from your own magic and life force. They become part of you. Permanent, or nearly so. But the risks are… significant."
He raised a hand, and a faint glowing rune appeared on the back of his own wrist an old, faded, but still pulsing with steady power.
"Done correctly, a well-placed protective rune can save your life in ways a wand cannot. Done poorly…" He let the silence hang for a moment. "You could burn out your magic, scar your soul, or worse. The body rejects what it doesn't understand. And once carved, removal is agony."
Fila leaned forward, eyes bright with genuine interest. "But it would be stable? Even if I'm unconscious or… not around to maintain it?"
"More stable than any charm," Borg confirmed. "That's the beauty and the danger. It becomes as much a part of you as your bones. Some of the greatest duelists in Durmstrang history carried runes. Some of the ones who died young did too."
Fila gave a small, respectful nod. "Understood, Professor."
Borg grunted, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been approval, before moving on to the next student.
The rest of the class passed in a focused blur. By the end, Fila's notebook was full of new symbols and careful notes about combinations. The idea of etching runes into her own body lingered in her mind, a permanent edge, something that couldn't be taken away.
As they filed out of the classroom, Sofia bumped her shoulder.
"Don't even think about it, I've known you for two days and I can already tell what your thinking." She said with a sharp warning, almost starting to sound like June.
The only thing she had on her mind right now? The benefits of having a rune etched onto her, and how bloody painful it would be to get done. But she's been through worse right?
The day flowed on in a confused and excited tone of new things and normal things. Fila liked the new style she had to learn to live with for a couple of months. she even felt herself growing attached to the school even after just one day of going to classes, eating and doing morning workout.
Ilvermorny had always felt a bit lazy, but in a good way. you could workout if you wanted to, but only Fila and her friends did it. everyone else just lifted things with their wands and became lazy.
Discipline. Something that Durmstrang learnt from day one, could do wonders at Ilvermorny.
As night crept on the castle and more and more fireplaces and lanterns lit the school corridors and common rooms.
She sat together with some of the fourth years, in her hand she held her notes from the Rune lesson. And in her other she had a Rune book borrowed from the library.
Runes in it self is just writing on old scrolls, but if used correctly it could be used just as the professor showed. And because not many liked the subject, it had slowly died out and almost vanished. Only being kept alive for the few students who pick the subject each year.
A shame really because it's a really interesting subject. The old scrolls often talked about dragons, ancient magic like her own and a lot of weird potions she never heard of. Like the yuhjing potion. Her knowledge of runes wasn't really good enough to understand what kind of potion this even was, but with a name like that it had to be interesting.
Together with her sat two boys who also had Ancient Runes, Anton and Henrich. Both German boys a year older than Fila.
"Fila, do you understand this symbol?" Henrich asked and pointed at a symbol which looked more like a upside down F.
She tilted her head and looked at it, "I think it the symbol for ask or cry, could be both."
The two boys looked equally as confused at the old scrolls they had found in a dusty old box in the far corner of the library.
Henrich scratched his head. "That would make sense with the context. The scroll talks about 'crying out to the old roots' or something. We thought it might be a summoning rune, but the lines are off."
Anton leaned closer, squinting at the faded ink. "Or maybe it's a plea. Old Nordic stuff sometimes blends the two, asking the earth for help and crying when it answers wrong."
While the three of them tried making sense of whatever they tried to write back in the day, a small house elf slowly walked into the common room.
Fila noticed and looked at the small elf, walking with careful steps towards her.
The little house-elf bowed deeply, its large ears twitching nervously. "Master Karkaroff wishes to see you in his office, Miss Ophelia. He said immediately, if you please."
Fila exchanged a quick glance with Sofia and the two boys. Henrich raised an eyebrow, while Anton looked mildly concerned. Sofia just mouthed "Good luck" with a grimace.
Fila closed the rune book and stood up, brushing off her uniform. "Lead the way."
The house-elf nodded and scurried ahead, its footsteps nearly silent on the stone floor. Fila followed through the dimly lit corridors, the floating lanterns casting long shadows that seemed to watch her every step. The castle felt heavier at night, the ancient magic in the walls pressing in like a living thing.
Karkaroff's office was in one of the upper towers, behind a heavy oak door carved with intricate runes that glowed faintly as they approached. The elf knocked once, then vanished with a soft pop.
"Enter," came the smooth, carrying voice from inside.
Fila pushed the door open and stepped into a spacious room lined with dark bookshelves and ancient artifacts. A large fire roared in the hearth, but the warmth did little to soften the stern atmosphere. Igor Karkaroff sat behind a massive desk, his neatly trimmed beard and sharp eyes fixed on her as she entered.
"Miss Grindelwald," he said, gesturing to the chair opposite him. "Sit."
Fila did so, meeting his gaze steadily. The headmaster studied her for a long moment, fingers steepled under his chin.
"How did your first day go?" he asked very gently, something she didn't think he could while looking like a ghost.
Fila smiled, "Your school is interesting in a good way. I find myself enjoying the more… structure way of everyday."
Karkaroff's sharp eyes studied her carefully, as if weighing the sincerity behind the words. A faint flicker of something, perhaps surprise, perhaps approval crossed his face before it smoothed back into stern neutrality.
"Good, I had a feeling you would be the kind of person who wouldn't like to sit still as to say. I think you and Durmstrang are a good match in that regard." He leaned back in his chair and looked a lot more relaxed then he had previously. "As you have probably heard or figured out. The school runs on many hidden rules and traditions among the students. The school don't have many rules, but the students during the years have made them by themselves and passed them along. Something very few would do and still abide by said rules as the aren't reinforced officially."
This is what she had also learnt today. The students themselves are the rules, and that in it self is really impressive as it makes the bonds between students stronger and there will be a sense of family among them. If something like that would exist in Ilvermorny it would most likely end I the whole school being leveled with the ground.
Fila nodded slowly, absorbing his words. "I understand. I've seen how the hierarchy works already. The scoreboard, the respect earned in the dueling ring… it's honest. Brutal, but honest."
Karkaroff's lips twitched again, almost a smile. "Honest. Yes. That is a good word for it. Many come here chasing power or glory. Few truly understand what it costs. You seem to have some idea already."
He paused, studying her for another long moment, then waved a hand. "Come, I have something to show you." he said and stood.
He brought her out into the corridors of the castle. The cold bit into her skins through the walls even. And then he stopped. Fila looked at him uncertainly and then she saw it.
The symbol etched into the wall.
The triangle, circle, and line intertwined in elegant, sharp precision.
"The deathly hallows." He said calmly as he looked at the symbol. "Etched with such magic that its impossible to remove."
She looked at the symbol and a lot of thoughts coursed through her. Many of them being why even show this, and why even make this. she had only read a little of what the deathly hallows even meant, but not enough for her to know anything specific.
"Why show me this?" she asked, not looing away from the wall.
He took a deep breath from the cold air. "I just wanted to show you, since your grandfather made it. I thought you would like to see some history, and how you might be more connected to this place than you thought."
He looked at her, "I don't need to tell you about how many look at you. you are already on a path far different form him in every way. but, I think its important to remember who you are. And who your relatives were." He said.
The words didn't feel right, and when she looked towards him, he was gone.
Fila looked around and saw nothing, no trace of apparition magic or even a scent of him. Just quiet cold air and herself.
But she wasn't alone.
Down the dark corridor, where the torches had flickered to life along the walls, a figure stood.
Only a silhouette, framed by the distant torchlight from behind. Tall. Still. A woman, by the shape of her, long robes that seemed to blend into the shadows, head slightly tilted as if studying her. She didn't move. Didn't speak. Just… watched.
Fila turned and faced the person.
The air grew heavier, colder, like the castle itself was holding its breath.
Fila's hand drifted slowly toward her wand holster, heart beating a little faster. The silhouette remained perfectly still, the torchlight behind it casting long, unnatural shadows that stretched toward her across the stone floor. No sound of breathing. No shift of fabric. Just that silent, unblinking presence.
"Who are you?" Fila called out, her voice steady but low, echoing down the empty corridor.
The figure didn't answer. It simply took one slow step forward, the movement too smooth, almost gliding, and the torches nearest to it flickered violently, threatening to go out. The cold deepened, nipping at Fila's ears and fingertips like invisible teeth.
She took a half-step back, wand now half-drawn, the green glow of her magic starting to spark at her fingers. The woman's silhouette remained shrouded in darkness, face completely hidden in shadow. Only the outline of her head, the fall of what might have been long hair, and the unnerving certainty that she was staring directly at Fila.
The corridor felt smaller. The walls seemed to lean in.
Fila's breath fogged in front of her.
The figure took another silent step closer.
"I said, who are you?"
Fila took a careful step back, vines instinctively creeping across the floor from her feet, ready to lash out. The woman's silhouette remained faceless, swallowed in shadow, but Fila could feel the weight of her gaze, heavy, knowing, almost hungry. It pressed against her skin like icy fingers tracing her spine.
Another step. The torches nearest the figure sputtered and died, plunging that section of the corridor into deeper darkness. Only the faint glow from Fila's wand and the distant lanterns remained.
The silhouette tilted its head slightly, the movement unnatural, too smooth, too deliberate. A low, almost imperceptible sound escaped the darkness. Not quite a breath. Not quite a whisper. Something between a sigh and a scrape of bone on stone.
Fila's magic flared brighter, the green light pushing back against the encroaching shadow. "Stay where you are."
The figure stopped.
For one long, suffocating heartbeat, nothing moved. The castle was deathly quiet, even the wind outside seemed to have stilled. Then, slowly, the silhouette raised one hand, pale fingers emerging from the sleeve, long and unnaturally thin.
It pointed directly at Fila.
Not threatening. Not attacking.
Just… pointing.
As if marking her.
Fila looked down, her vines had died already. Something basically no one could do with just a pointing finger.
Fila felt a chill crawl down her neck, deeper than the castle's cold. The vines at her feet twitched restlessly, sensing her unease. She opened her mouth to speak again when…
The figure dissolved.
Not vanished in a pop or a swirl of robes. It simply melted into the shadows, the outline breaking apart like smoke caught in a draft, until nothing remained but the flickering torches reigniting one by one down the corridor.
Fila stood frozen for several seconds, wand still raised, breath coming in short, visible puffs.
The corridor was empty.
But the feeling of being watched lingered, heavy and cold, long after the last torch steadied.
Fila lowered her wand slowly, the green light fading.
"…What the hell was that?"
She didn't wait for an answer. She turned and walked quickly back toward the common room, the shadows seeming longer and the stone colder than when she had left.