Chapter 8

"All students assigned to the House of the Snow Wolf, come to me!" I proclaimed loudly, after taking a deep breath and adopting my most authoritative and imposing expression, trying to catch the attention of the first-year students spilling out of the hall. According to the rules, the older students would come out a bit later, after the first-years had been sorted into their Houses and had headed off to their respective dormitories. We, the prefects, were in charge of overseeing this sorting process.

Erika, despite her deep hatred for noisy kids, was forced to become a prefect, being the natural leader of the House. However, the most she could manage was to keep silent and not share her highly valued opinion on the behavior of the eleven-year-olds. After all, the new pureblood and half-blood students arriving at Durmstrang weren't all that different in terms of behavior. Enthusiastic looks, loud conversations, a general sense of excitement... Differences would become apparent later, but we'd have to bear with it for now.

Unfortunately, patience wasn't exactly my colleague's strong suit.

"Is everyone here? Is everyone gathered?" I glanced over at the badges on the belts of the first-years, which bore a noticeable engraving of their House animal symbol.

Some had already noticed the change on their uniforms, while others had not. To my mild displeasure, most of those who hadn't were half-bloods. You might wonder, why would I, someone reincarnated, favor purebloods? After all, I was supposedly that very despised Muggle-born, whom I should now dislike... It's worth pointing out a few important nuances.

Since I was reincarnated as a pureblood, I would support this particular class of society. Being part of it provides me with certain advantages and privileges that I can use for my own benefit. Had I been born in this fictional reality as a Muggle-born, I would just as easily be advocating for equality among all wizards.

Nothing personal, just pure pragmatism.

Some might despise me for lacking any firm position or strong beliefs... But I am, after all, a selfish person, so I couldn't care less.

It's great to be selfish, really. Hmmm...

So, I guess right now I'm thinking like a typical capitalist. Like one of those parasites feeding off the people, as some supporters of a certain notorious ideology would say.

If the Unjoined started promoting Marxist-like ideas, things would be just peachy. To be honest, they're already dangerously close to Marx and Engels with their views.

And my displeasure arose from the fact that purebloods, despite having more knowledge and better conditions, still couldn't pride themselves on attention to detail. And attention to detail is very important, if you ask me.

"Excellent, all eleven are here." I nodded to Erika, who was gazing at the first-years with increasing irritation. It wasn't too noticeable yet, but... I knew her well. So, I whispered to her, just loud enough for her to hear: "Don't set a bad example."

She shot me an irritated glance, but complied.

"First-years." I spoke again, feeling nearly a dozen pairs of eyes on me. "My name is Adalbert Stahlwolf. Together with this Fräulein..." I gestured towards the other prefect. "Erika Stadtfeld, we are fifth-years and the prefects of the House of the Snow Wolf. Any questions can be asked later. Now line up in a column, one by one. Boys, follow me. Girls, follow my colleague.

After making sure my instructions were followed, I nodded to the silver-haired girl, and we moved forward down the corridor. Throwing a quick glance back, I noticed with a certain sense of superiority that only the Fox-Lynxes had exited the hall nearly at the same time as us. While we were the most disciplined, these guys were the smartest. They quickly figured out what needed to be done.

However, sometimes their intelligence went too far, and they caused just as many problems as the noisy and energetic Griffons. Always experimenting. I wonder how Gertrude ended up with the Wolves, though.

The House of the inquisitive Fox-Lynxes would suit her perfectly!

Resisting the urge to shake my head, I quickened my pace a little. The other Houses wouldn't take long either, so we needed to avoid creating a bottleneck in the relatively narrow, though quite long, corridor.

Durmstrang was smaller and less convoluted than Hogwarts, and there was no nonsense with moving staircases here, so we reached the dormitory quickly. There were no paintings here either, although in some corridors of Durmstrang, a few did hang. The door to the dormitory was made of wood, looked quite massive, and was adorned with simple-looking carvings.

It was in these carvings that the door's unlocking mechanism lay. One had to trace their wand over specific parts of the carving in the correct order for the door to open. This order changed periodically, serving as a sort of password. The other Houses had a similar system.

The first-years watched in awe as the carvings began to glow where my wand touched them, and I couldn't help but smirk inwardly. Even purebloods, who had grown up with magic, and most of the half-bloods as well, tended to become enchanted by the atmosphere of mystery, magic, and wonder in such moments.

It's a pity, though, that this is also one of the reasons for misunderstandings — not just between Muggle-borns and purebloods, but between those who had just entered the magical world and those who had grown up in it. The former can't understand those who treat real magic with such nonchalance, while the latter can't understand those who marvel at things that, to them, are entirely ordinary.

To draw a comparison… a Muggle-born who learns about magic for the first time in their life appears to those who have lived with it since birth (mainly purebloods and some half-bloods) much like an indigenous person from the Amazon jungle who has just discovered refrigerators, gas stoves, and other everyday appliances would to a city dweller.

And the reaction will be similar — condescending. And, considering the differing material statuses, sometimes even disdainful.

This is what I'm getting at: purebloods' attitudes toward Muggle-borns aren't just because they're so-called "evil aristocrats." There are logical reasons behind everything, and they don't always depend on the individuals in this group. The same can be said for the other side as well.

The first floor of the dormitory was a circular room filled with various tables, armchairs, and couches — a space for relaxation, conversation, or even doing homework. The second and third floors had student rooms arranged in a circle. The first four years were on the second floor, while the fifth to seventh years were on the third. Not only were the domes quite wide on their own, but the space had also been magically expanded, so there was plenty of room for everyone.

To my relief, fifth-year students moved from shared rooms to single rooms, though smaller. This meant I wouldn't have to listen to Ivan snoring this year.

An important feature of the dormitory's layout was that the second and third floors weren't fully enclosed, but rather circular balconies. This allowed students to look down at those on the first floor from above. Upper-year students often made use of this, as the balustrades were too high for younger students to lean over.

Plus, it wasn't really considered appropriate, according to the unspoken rules. And this wasn't just in my House, but applied to others as well.

After giving the kids a moment to marvel at all the beauty, we led them up the stairs to the second floor and began assigning them to their rooms. The girls' rooms were located on one half of the circular mezzanine, and the boys' on the other. Formally, boys were allowed to walk around the girls' part of the floor, but once again, unwritten traditions and rules came into play, of which Durmstrang had plenty.

It was rare to see boys loitering near the girls' rooms, and vice versa. If anyone did happen to be there without a valid reason... well, they'd get thrown out in disgrace (excuse the expression), and afterward, they'd get a stern talking-to from the Deputy Headmaster. One might wish to continue on with a lecture in the name of "character-building," which is what people in that position usually do, but alas, officially, the title only includes two words.

So, what does this lead to? Those who want to hang around where they don't belong quickly stop trying.

I suppose it also has to do with the fact that purebloods, in general, are more disciplined than children of non-magical families. It's all in the upbringing. That's why Durmstrang students tend to appear more disciplined compared to others. Not because of some strict drill or militarism. Militarism among wizards? Among those who have never had and never will have anything resembling an army? Even the Auror divisions and their equivalents are more like police and special forces, not military.

The crimson hint of military-style uniforms and greatcoats… it's all the quirk of some Russian Headmaster from the second half of the nineteenth century. Before him, Durmstrang didn't even have a unified uniform, since purebloods were very reluctant to be lumped in with half-bloods, forced to wear the same clothes, unable to display their wealth and status.

But the man was a real powerhouse and managed to push through his initiative. And later, when this eccentric headmaster passed away and his aura of coolness was somewhat forgotten, it just became embarrassing in front of the other schools. They had uniforms for ages, so how could Durmstrang not have something equally unique and distinctive? Of course, it could! So now, even though it's largely a formality, there is a shared uniform.

"All set?" I asked Erika as she approached.

"Yeah. The girls have been assigned to their rooms, and if anything comes up, the older students… and Greta and Marta, won't leave them in the dark." The fifth-year glanced toward the older and younger students chatting near their rooms.

"Same here. In..." I looked at the antique clock hanging on the wall. "An hour, we'll meet here again. We still need to give them a tour of the castle."

"Got it. An hour it is." Erika waved her hand and headed toward the stairs to the first floor.

Again, some might think we were too quick to leave the first-years alone... but, first of all, it's not a prefect's job to keep a tight watch on the younger students. Being a prefect is a reward (for being a House leader), not just an additional set of responsibilities. Secondly, a significant portion of the eleven-year-olds in our House are already quite disciplined. And thirdly, they're always in plain sight of the older students.

So Erika and I have no reason to worry about the younger ones. In all my time here, nothing dangerous has ever happened that could be caused by first-years in the dormitory.