With the capture of Verandi Farley and several high-ranking Trossach members, the British wizarding world has finally caught a break. The rate of rogue werewolf attacks have started dropping at a steady rate and, hopefully, things will stay that way. The Ministry is starting to loosen some restrictions, like not arresting werewolves standing on the street for loitering, however there’s still an obvious power imbalance between wizardfolk and werewolves.
The Cotswolds pack are continuing to advocate for the rights of werewolves and petitioning to change the legislation that has been set in motion by the current Minister for Magic, whilst the remaining Trossachs members are trying to stay out of the spotlight and keep a low profile… for now.
Whilst the British wizarding world seems to have calmed down, the same cannot be said for over in Northern Europe where a rebellion of magical creatures has risen. The state of things has gotten so bad that the European Ministry has enacted protocols to protect those under eighteen whilst their adult witches and wizards fight to keep control of their countries.
Students from Durmstrang have been sent to Hogwarts to keep them safe and those not old enough to attend school have been sent to live with relatives or designated British Ministry officials outside of Europe for the time being.
Will the low rates of werewolf attacks in Britain continue? How long will Durmstrang students stay at Hogwarts? Will the creatures usurp the wizardfolk in Northern Europe? Only time will tell.
SEPTEMBER 2019 It's been a very long, eventful summer in the wizarding world. A baby was stolen, several high ranking Trossach members were imprisoned, and werewolf attacks have drastically dropped as a result. What will happen now school has returned?
MAY 2019 An attempt to capture the beta of the Trossachs has been launched. Were the Aurors successful in their mission? Go read more here!
"And you should see the mountains... I mean, you've got your own, but ours are something else," he told the three younger Ravenclaws, who'd asked August to tell them about Durmstrang. He'd been talking for about 20 minutes now, and the trio -- no older than 13 -- were looking at him with wide eyes. "They're always capped with snow, and in the spring they don't let us near, otherwise an avalanche could happen, and we'd be in big trouble. Well, most of us really. I'm sure that those who are better at battle magic would be safer. But... I was never one for mountain climbing, I'm a bit scared of heights."
"Speaking of battle magic, we have duel competitions every once in a while. And there is one I'll never forget," he continued rambling on, closing his eyes and trying to recall the moment in clear detail, "So, it was three years ago, I think? Yeah, and it was the final battle between this 7th year, who just loved to boast that he'll win every battle without mistake, but I can't remember his name, which gives you an idea of how that went for him, " August chuckled, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, "And then on the other side we had Kalevi Koivu. He's... I think? Two years older than me? Not that that matters terribly."
"And Kalevi? He's this thin guy, almost white hair, like your Transfiguration professor, and he's pretty quiet. And the other guy, of course, was mocking him, and...The duel barely began when Kalevi wiped the grin off of his face with one perfectly placed 'Petrificus'. I've not seen someone react so fast since. I wonder where Kalevi is now..."
With those words, August took a deep breath, looking around the common room for any sight of some kind of tray of water -- his mouth was like a desert after all that storytelling.
Then, a head of light hair caught his gaze. Standing right there, in the doorway up to the dorms was none other than...
Kalevi had not been expecting to spend most of his first week at Hogwarts in his bed with the curtains shut, hiding like a coward from the crowd of fur-wearing students and professors that he had not escaped after all. It was made doubly worse by the fact that, even though he wanted to sleep, being in a strange new bed amongst people he didn't want to be around meant that he slept lightly, and that meant nightmares.
He had half a mind to leave the school almost as soon as he'd started. If he hadn't been so bent on finishing once and for all, he might have. But he wasn't going to let them get the better of him. This was Hogwarts, not Durmstrang; the Scandinavian school's professors would have to obey the British headmistress now, the one who was half-blood herself.
And so he was going to leave his bed, and go outside, and maybe have a smoke and some fresh air while he read a book, and simply hope that nobody would be around to bother him.
Those illusions were shattered in a moment as he descended the stairs, the sound of his own name reaching his ears. Standing in the entrance to the stairway, he froze in his tracks, eyes stuck on a boy who he was sure he'd last seen in an entirely different castle. And of course he was talking about him. Who wasn't? Kalevi thought bitterly. Wasn't it the story of the year, the biggest thing that had happened at Durmstrang until the recent attack? And still he wouldn't escape.
"Hmm," he muttered, irritation rising. He crossed his arms, looking at the younger students. What was the Durmstrang boy filling their heads with? "Why am I hearing my name?"
kasia's not-so-angelic blond // 5'8" // single (future: augusts straume) // born in finland // lives in lintusaari (a magical village in eastern finland)
It was him. Kalevi Koivu, the one they'd expelled mere months ago for one count of murder and another count of attempted. The one, who's name had been on every tongue ever since, the one some claimed was the next worst thing to come out of Durmstrang since Grindelwald.
The one, who's innocence August believed wholeheartedly, because the other people involved in the incident, namely one Felix Sorensen, were full of crap. He still remembered Sorensen's smug face at graduation, after spending half a year gallivanting around the school with a shit eating grin only a rich fuck who'd gotten away with something could have.
August wasn't alone in thinking there was something dirty about the entire ordeal. But, Kalevi had been expelled, and Sorensen graduated, and there had been no one to try and get to the bottom of it. Shoved in to the closet with the rest of the skeletons of that school.
He was surprised to see Kalevi here, in Hogwarts, and then he just felt sad. It was obvious Kalevi had only wanted to finish his education and now August and his blood red sweater were like a splinter in his eye. He could tell it in his demeanor, too, though he couldn't say he'd known the guy back at Durmstrang.
"Oh, look, it's the man himself!" he said, grinning. "I was just telling them about the dueling championship a few years back, when you made Blomberg eat dirt after all that boasting! I don't think I'll ever forget how stupid he looked with his face frozen."
If there had ever been any chance of Kalevi slipping out of the Ravenclaw common room with his grumbling unnoticed, it disappeared in the moment that the Durmstrang boy grinned in his direction.
He stood, mildly stunned, listening to his introduction as the winner of a duel he'd almost forgotten in the handful of years that had since passed. He'd always enjoyed that kind of thing--it was satisfying to put someone arrogant flat on their ass, to show them if only for a moment that Kalevi Koivu was no weakling just because of his blood.
To be honest, he'd missed the feeling, too beat down by what had happened last year to even wish for a chance to do it again. It had been blissfully satisfying, seeing Blomberg as frozen as if he'd had an unfortunate run-in with a basilisk, but he'd thought that was in the past. But Kalevi hadn't thought he would need to face his Durmstrang schoolmates again, either.
"I remember," he said slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Was a good time." It brought a hint of a smile to Kalevi's face, even though he was still uneasy. He glanced at the door, wondering if he could still make a run for it. Even if the boy hadn't brought up the incident yet, he could at any moment.
kasia's not-so-angelic blond // 5'8" // single (future: augusts straume) // born in finland // lives in lintusaari (a magical village in eastern finland)
"Alright, you three, story time is over for today," August said to the three kids, who didn't look pleased with his statement, "I can't give you out all the secrets of Durmstrang just like that, can I? We'll chat some other time." With that, he turned around on his heel, approaching Kalevi, while his hand slipped into his pocket, reaching for the scrunched up packet of cigarettes. He needed to ask Elias for a new packet upon first chance, otherwise he'd have to go shoot1 them from random Hogwartians, who might not have the type he wanted.
"Hey," he said, offering a handshake. "I've got cigs, if you've got a light? My name is Augusts Straume." Then he walked a little bit closer to his fellow... ex-schoolmate? and lowered his voice, so only he'd be able to hear.
"Sorensen is full of shit. Never believed a word. I'm not alone in this."
Then he stepped back again, pulling out the packet of cigarettes and offering it to Kalevi. "Want one? They've got menthol."
Sørensen is full of shit. It was the very sort of phrase Kalevi had wished a million times that he'd been able to say, because it was the truth, it was an understatement of the truth, but it was the kind of thing that would have made the situation worse. It was the kind of thing he had to scream into the trees when nobody was around, or scream underwater in the middle of that lonely summer.
He looked Straume up and down, amber eyes tracing over a face that he knew he'd seen at least once before, above a uniform that he hoped he'd never see again. His own was at the bottom of a trunk at home, preferably to be tossed in the lake if he ever found it again. How many people in those uniforms could ever be trusted? If he found himself alone with the other boy, who was to say if he would still say the same thing? Gaze traveling back to Straume's deep brown eyes, Kalevi plucked the cigarette from his hand with long fingers, a motion more delicate than he'd intended.
With practiced ease, he slipped the wand from his pocket and raised it to the tip of the cigarette, lighting it with the smallest of incendios. He held it out to Straume, waiting for the other boy to pull out a cigarette for himself. "If we're going to talk about this, it's not going to be with them around." Kalevi made a slight motion with his head toward the groups of younger students. "Walk with me?"
kasia's not-so-angelic blond // 5'8" // single (future: augusts straume) // born in finland // lives in lintusaari (a magical village in eastern finland)
Augusts didn't miss the way Kalevi's eyes raked over him, suspicion loud and clear. He wasn't surprised by this reaction -- after all, he was a Durmstrang student. Kalevi had no reason to trust anything Durmstrang related, especially after how the school that Augusts attended, yes, attended, because whatever school pride he'd felt before had been destroyed when Kalevi had been expelled. Everyone knew Felix Sorensen was guilty. Hell, the Dane had bragged about 'getting away with something' and you had to incredibly dense to not put two plus two together.
Another thing Augusts noticed were Kalevi's long, slender, pale fingers. There was something about them... Something about his knuckles, and the way the tendons on the back of Kalevi's hand were defined as he moved his hands... Something stirred in Augusts stomach. It was like a marble statue had come to life.
Silent, the duo left the Ravenclaw common room, cigarettes pressed between their lips, making their way to the closest boys' bathroom so they would be out of sight and out of mind for any, what's the name, prefects, that Hogwarts had.
"Like I said before," he spoke again once the bathroom door had been closed behind them, "Sorensen is full of shit. I know he was bragging about what he did. Most people know, but nobody dared to protest for reasons you can figure out yourself. I know we don't know each other, but I'm glad to see you're holding up."
Leaning against a sink, cold porcelain chilling him through his shirt, Kalevi took leisurely drags of his cigarette while he analyzed Straume's words. Since the last time he'd left the doors of the Durmstrang Institute, he hadn't spoken to any of them--no, not even at the feast, when a sea of all-too-familiar faces had flooded to his table; not even in the dorms, where the only person he had found any desire to interact with was Wolfgang Kallenbach, in bed.
And yet here he was, talking with Straume, who had once been two years below him, someone too distant to know, but had now appeared in the older years' classes that Kalevi was taking. A boy in a dark red uniform, which would have been a good color on him, mixed with the deep gold of his hair, had it not been for the memories that Kalevi associated with that outfit.
Since the trial, too, he hadn't made any contact with Felix, though he hoped that if he ever saw him again, it would be in prison or in a grave. So his eyebrows raised ever so slightly at news of what Felix had been saying since then, what he'd been telling everyone. The thought of his former friend made cold anger pool in his stomach, but somehow, he still wanted to know, his curiosity deeper than he'd thought.
"Holding up. That's a way to put it," Kalevi said with a small snort. Holding up meant a cycle of coffee and vodka that left his mind far less clear than he was used to. "I do my best. I'm sure you can see that I'd rather not be here, though." By now he should have been done with school, away from the whispers and social pitfalls that plagued such places.
"And you're saying everyone knows, he's even admitted it, and they've still done nothing?" Kalevi shook his head, disgusted. "You know what they're like. One set of laws for them, another for the rest of us." For all that he didn't know Straume beyond name and face, he didn't recognize his surname as one of Durmstrang's pureblood dynasties.
kasia's not-so-angelic blond // 5'8" // single (future: augusts straume) // born in finland // lives in lintusaari (a magical village in eastern finland)
A heavy sadness weighed down on Augusts as he listened to Kalevi speak. They didn't know each other, not at all, but what had been done to him was so, so wrong. Why did bad people get away with ruining other's lives? Not just at Durmstrang, but... Augusts didn't like listening or reading the news for one simple reason -- there would always be yet another story about how people are being put down for no good reason, how rich, important people could get away with anything. The same had happened here.
"Yeah, it's either you're with them, or you're against them, or, well, under, as it seems to be with the bullies," he answered, reflecting on his own tentative friendship with the Dascalus. "If I wasn't friends with the Headmaster's grandchildren, Ileanna would probably have killed me with one of her pranks already. Please don't tell anyone I said that."
"I'm surprised I haven't had my head stuck down a toilet in these years," he mused, taking a long drag from his cigarette, "Poor half-blood from a completely non-important family from a small country."
"Do you... Do you think you're going to do anything about Felix? Try to get your justice? Or do you think it's hopeless?"
"Hmm. There are a few who like to stick heads in toilets, or at least there were." Kalevi had been, before the expulsion, a couple years ahead of Straume, and it had been older boys who had made his first few years at Durmstrang so abjectly miserable. "You can hope the Brits are better. I know that's why I came here." He probably could have begged the American school for admission as well, but Hogwarts had been the place where people won the war over blood status. It had to be better.
Kalevi took a moment to stare out the frosted-glass window, cigarette between his lips, pondering the question of whether he would go for justice. Of course he wanted it. Of course he indulged himself in fantasies of confrontation, of throwing in Felix's face the fact that what he'd done hadn't destroyed his life after all. There would be nothing more satisfying than seeing Felix judged guilty after all.
But how realistic was it? He had come all the way to Britain, and still he was plagued by nightmares and by the actual school that had caused them.
"I'd love nothing more than justice," he admitted quietly, eyes grabbing contact with Straume's. "But you know as well as I that it will be difficult."
Putting out his cigarette against the porcelain of the sink, Kalevi sighed, moving to lean back against the wall. Here he was, with a boy in a Durmstrang uniform, telling him the same things he'd been mulling over in his head for years. It was unexpected, and not yet entirely comfortable, but there was something about Straume's voice that sounded honest, that carried the weight of being faced with prejudices that Kalevi knew all too well.
Perhaps, no matter if he resolutely ignored all the others, he could have something to speak about with this boy.
kasia's not-so-angelic blond // 5'8" // single (future: augusts straume) // born in finland // lives in lintusaari (a magical village in eastern finland)
