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Havmork


Far, far northeast - beyond mountains and lakes half frozen, on shores of harsh cliff faces - was a place on the map where no Muggle had ever stepped a toe. The rocks seemed too steep, the path dangerous with ice and snow… It was here, among the stone and brine-coloured water that a frigid air blew through the midday dusk of the sunless winter, and billowed the dark sails of a ship which sat, like a ghost in the sea, creaking in the effort of staying afloat.

The ship’s insignia bore the image of a double-headed eagle.

Light flashed upon the ship’s deck - flashes and cracks, small but brilliant against the dark of the polar night.

Students were dueling. Two thick young men with closely shorn hair and wool uniforms belted about the center fought in a sort of hand-to-hand combat, using long jousting sticks, striking diagonally at one another, blocking and twisting, striking one another in the side with a violence that seemed so graceful it could have been a dance. They slammed the sticks and sparks burst from the deck of the ship, spraying white-hot stars across their heavy leather boots. Swinging his stick, letting the smooth wood slide between his fingers as he turned, one of the boys struck the other across the shoulder so hard that the stick broke and the boy cursed and fell to the floor of the ship on one knee, clutching his shoulder.

“Very good, Dolohov,” murmured the instructor, a tall and skinny man with a narrow black beard that hung from his chin to his mid-sternum, thick red wood beads tied into the wiry hair. He waved his wand and repaired the broken jousting sticks with ease.

Suddenly, far overhead, there was a humming and the cluster of students standing around the edges of the deck looked up into the dark clouds that obscured the sky, the sound echoing over the dark sea the boat set upon. The sound of an engine.

“Vot is zat?” asked one of the boys, looking concerned to the instructor.

But the instructor did not know.

“Into the cabins,” he murmured and he waved for everyone to go into the galley, “We return to the safety of the castle immediately.”

There was a rush of thick bodies as the boys and girls gathered about moved quickly over the deck, hurrying to get to the doors of the galley. The instructor’s eyes followed the humming through the clouds, his eyes flashing over the darkness as it moved over their heads, toward the village of Havmork. He reached out a hand, grabbing hold of Evan Rosier’s elbow before the could join the others in the galley.

“Has the Lord departed Havmork, Rosier?” the instructor asked lowly.

“I don’t know, sir,” Evan Rosier answered quietly.

The instructor released Evan Rosier’s elbow. “Go below, son.”




Regulus directed Lily lower through the clouds as they entered the air over Havmork, the little village near to Durmstrang Institute. This village was not as large as Hogsmeade was, and did not have any of the wonderful things as Hogsmeade did - there was no joke shop like Zonko’s and no butterbeer or pretzel carts here. There was a Quidditch Supplies store, however, and a wand shop with wands fashioned by a man called Gregorovich. There was also one that sold candies like salt licorice trolls and marzipan toads called Bruka’s. Regulus had found the selection lacking compared to Honeyduke’s, though, when they had visited Havmork. Walburga had once floo’d them to a pub there, The Twisted Trunk, where they’d met Igor Karkaroff and been given a bit of a tour through Durmstrang Institute before they had formally turned down the offer of Regulus attending the school at the end of the summer.

“We have to be really careful,” he said as the Morris Mini wobbled its way closer to the ground, “We can’t be seen. No muggle has set a foot on this land in centuries, if ever at all, so your car’s going to attract quite a lot of attention here and the last thing in the world we want is attention.”

Lily gripped the wheel so tight that her knuckles turned white.

Sirius and Remus were both turned in the back to look out the window at the swirling clouds below the car. “I don’t see the castle,” he said.

“You won’t see the castle,” Regulus replied.

Remus looked over his shoulder. “Why not? Isn’t it visible from Havmork the way Hogwarts is from Hogsmeade?”

“It’s not anywhere near as big as Hogwarts is, for one,” Regulus replied, “And secondly… it’s underground.”

“Underground?” Remus and Sirius both said at once.

“Magically. Yes.” Regulus nodded.

Sirius looked at Remus, then back to Regulus. “Nuh uh. I’ve seen pictures of it before, in books,” Sirius argued. “That boring book you were looking at Moony, about the history of wizarding schools.”

“The Centuries of Wizarding Education - and that book was far from boring, which you would know if you’d read a single page of it,” Remus replied. Then, “He’s right though, Regulus. There were photos of Durmstrang in the book and it was situated on the sea, on one of the high cliffs along the shore.”

“It is, just underground,” Regulus said. “You’ll see when we get there.”

They landed the Morris Mini through the clouds and into the trees of the woods and Lily carefully brought it down ‘til the tires had touched down on the ice-coated bracken and cut the engine. They sat in ringing silence that always came following such long car drives and finally Sirius broke it by demanding somebody let him out before his legs needed to be saudered off, so Regulus climbed out and Sirius clambored over the seat and out the passenger door and into the crunching snow that covered even the depths of the forest.

Remus groaned as weight returned to his knees and bent forward to rub them. The full moon was less than a week away already and he was feeling it in his sore muscles and aching bones. “Blimey that was a long trip.”

“Twelve hours!” announced Sirius, “It might as well have been twelve years for how cramped we were, imprisoned in that bloody back seat as we were!”

Regulus said, “Well we could’ve been here sooner if somebody hadn’t insisted we stop on the way.”

“I had to use a toilet!” Sirius cried, “Excuse me for having a bladder!”

“Guys,” Maryrose said, “Perhaps we keep it down and stop with the bickering?”

“Agreed,” Lily said, looking sternly at Sirius.

“What? What’re you looking at me like that for? He’s started it,” Sirius pointed at Regulus.

“Me? You liar! You started it.”

“You.” Sirius pushed Regulus.

Regulus pushed him back.

“Enough!” Lily snapped, stepping between them. “We need to work together to find James.” She looked at Sirius meaningfully, “We have to find him and stop him being tortured by Voldemort. Remember?”

Sirius looked sick at these words and he sombered up immediately and looked around. Remus was looking around, too, his eyes taking in the height of the trees and the smells of the forest, which were dimmed by the ice and cold, but still different than any he had ever smelled before. As the troop of them walked through the trees, leaving the Morris Mini hidden in a cluster of brush until they’d come to the edge of the forest.

Their breath hung before them in the frigid air and Remus shivered and hugged himself against it - even the multiple jumpers he wore was not enough to battle the penetrating air that bit at them now. Wind rushed against them - icy, salty sea air.

Havmork was set up quite a lot differently than Hogsmeade was. Instead of a main street that ran through the center of clusters of high buildings, Havmork was a collection of tiny stand-alone buildings, spread out over a wide, fairly open area situated on the edge of a fjord - a strong rushing river that ran southwest along the north side of the village, feeding into a wide bay of the sea on the west. The bay had a narrow port of entry, lined by jagged stone, before stretching off over the horizon as far as could be seen in the low light of dusk.

“Which Sea is that?” Lily asked Regulus.

“The Barents,” Regulus replied.

Sirius drew his watch from his waistcoat pocket, staring down at it for a moment. “What time is it here?”

“What time do you have?” Regulus asked.

“Eleven in the morning,” Sirius answered.

“Then it’s noon here,” Regulus said. “We’re only an hour ahead of back home.”

“Bloody hell, why is it so dark?” demanded Sirius, looking around. Lamps glowed in the town, flickering against the wind that shivered the bulidings and iced them all right to the core. Maryrose’s hair had gone white with her coldness and Lily’s face was pink.

“Polar night,” murmured Remus. “We must be very, very far north. Am I right?”

“Yeah,” Regulus nodded, “The sun never rises properly for half the year here.” He paused, “There’s a few nights in early January that it doesn’t rise at all.”

“No sun?” Sirius said, “That’s madness.”

“The earth just doesn’t tilt that way,” Regulus replied.

They walked down the rocky terrain, past boulders made of jagged ice and crunching snow beneath their feet. They were thankful for the polar night, really, even though it made it hard to pick their way along to the village. After all, the polar night was what had afforded them the cover to land without being caught (once Regulus had instructed Lily to turn off her headlamps). It also meant that they could easily sneak into the village without being too conspicuous, despite the flat barreness of the landscape.

Regulus led the way onto a worn lane that led them along between the squat buildings that made up Havmork’s shops and inns. He waved for them to follow him and he led them down the road to the Twisted Trunk and into the warmth of the pub.




“Is there something the matter, Minerva?” Filius Flitwick asked.

It was lunch, and Minerva was sitting at the staff table, looking over the nearly barren house tables that lined the Great Hall. The few students who had stayed behind for the holidays were clustered about below, eating their meals and writing or reading as they did. Her mouth was twisted into a look of concern.

“Aye, but I’m not sure what it might be,” she murmured, her accent thick as she worried over the fact that there was something wrong with what she was looking at below.

“Is there anything that I can do to assist you?” Flitwick pressed.

McGonagall watched Ollie and Wally at the Gryffindor table, playing a game of Exploding Snap and laughing together… the other seats around them empty…

Her brow furrowed.

“Fil,” she said, looking at him, “Have you seen Peter Pettigrew?”

“Peter Pettigrew?” Filius asked and he paused to think about it a moment and then shook his head, “Not that I recall specifically, but I certainly don’t -- where are you going?”

Minerva McGonagall had stood up and was hurrying down the from the staff table. “The Gryffindor common room!” she replied.

McGonagall ran through the Great Hall, past Hagrid in the doorway, who was walking beside a stack of levitating pine trees, just coming in the entrance hall door. He flushed when he saw her, quickly tucking a pink umbrella behind his back and the trees hit the floor with a bit of a thump and a rush of dusty air - though McGonagall paid no mind to this, and continued on in running up the steps. “Jus’ gettin’ ter the decoratin’ o’ the Hall for Christmas fer tomorrow, Professor!” he said nervously.

“Very good Hagrid,” she answered, distracted.

For she had to get to the common room immediately.

Though she already knew she wouldn’t find Peter where he belonged.