Christmas Day, 1936.
Durmstrang Institute.
Gisela
It was Christmas Day 1936; the great lake of Durmstrang had frozen over completely, the mountains looking down upon it now covered in thick powdery snow, and the winter sky created a white-out across the school's grounds that prevented the students from exiting the castle. Gisela had awoken at the brink of dawn, as usual, enjoying the silence of the library at such an early hour, empty of any chattering students. Gisela was the only first-year student who remained at the castle over the holidays, everyone else returning to their homeland for Christmas celebrations - including Olga. She was thankful for their absence, however, as it gave her time to wander the castle exploring its abandoned classrooms and empty corridors, or make conversation with the oldest of paintings.
Tensions had been growing in the Muggle world and were beginning to worry even the Magical community. King Edward VIII had abdicated after less than a year of being in power, all for some Muggle American divorce. Many German student's younger brothers living in the Muggle world had now been forced into joining the Hitler Youth, and the Nazis were increasing conscription, trapping many half-blood wizards who were not protected by the Wizarding Communities secrecy like most Purebloods. The behaviour of the Nazis had only increased the support for Grindelwald, with many Wizards fearing for their children's lives at the prediction of an upcoming war. Suddenly, the dark Wizard's ideas were becoming more and more rational in the minds of paranoid parents.
Once Gisela finished her morning routine, she headed to her uncle's office in the tallest turret of the castle. After a long climb, she opened the door without knocking; her uncle now used to her barging in when she wanted to hide from her classmates on, particularly bad days.
"Hello niece, Merry Christmas!" he smiled, leaning back on his chair, dressed in a uniform she had not seen him in for months; the defining red swastika armband illuminated in the dimly lit room.
"Uncle, why are you wearing that uniform?" she frowned, rubbing the velvet of her cloak between her fingers.
"I was off on some business - a side job of mine. I mentioned on our journey earlier this year that I am infiltrating the Nazis, did I not?"
"You did, but you didn't tell me why," she responded, rather concerned.
"To make sure we are always two steps ahead of the Nazis," he stated.
"And on whose behalf are you doing this?" she inquired.
"I am doing this for my cousin," he muttered, much quieter than more.
"You're working for him? Why on earth would you prefer Gellert Grindelwald over a bunch of Muggles?" she exclaimed, her eyes widening in shock at the revelation.
"If you think Gellert is worse than Hitler than you are very misinformed," he said, his demeanour far darker than it had ever been before, putting Gisela on edge. "I would far rather my delusional cousin rule the world in a heartbeat than let that bastard rule Germany for a second longer."
Gisela watched as he gripped the edge of his chair, his jaw tighten with anxiousness and his foot tap the floor to restrain himself from exploding in anger. It reminded her of Tom when Amy Benson would tease her in the courtyard, or the matron refused to give her more food.
"I don't see what's so horribly wrong with the Nazis. I didn't see any starving children on our way to Berlin, unlike where I'm from," she frowned, confused at her Uncle's reaction.
"Gisela," he sighed, leaning forward, rubbing his fingers over his forehead in frustration, "it as not as simple as starving children. You have no idea how dangerous the ideals of the National Socialists are, and how many people have suffered and will continue to suffer under this regime. Do not underestimate what these people are capable of."
"I still do not understand why you prefer Grindelwald over Hitler, considering he intends to enslave the Muggle world, but I'll take your word for it," she sighed, not convinced.
"One day, when you're old enough to understand, I'll tell you a story about what Adolf Hitler is truly capable of," he replied, cracking his knuckles," but for now, it is Christmas and not a time for such conversation."
"Yes, I suppose it is Christmas day. I'm not entirely sure why there are so many trees and decorations in the castle; however, it does make everything look rather nice," she chuckled.
"What do you mean? It's Christmas!" he smiled.
"All Christmas meant at the orphanage was a scrap of meat if we were lucky, even some fruit in the recent years. The idea of have expendable money to buy unnecessary gifts for the sake of it is foreign to me," she replied, making her Uncle's smile fall from his face.
"Oh, I guess I didn't think of that. However, I did get you a few presents, so you will just have to suffer," he jested, levitating a stack of colourfully wrapped gift boxes onto his desk.
"These are all for me?" she exclaimed.
"Of course! Now, we should begin unwrapping this tower," he laughed, amused at her reaction to such a small selection of gifts compared to what he received as a child.
The rest of the morning was spent unwrapping the gifts, eating Christmas food and talking about Muggle novels they both enjoyed. Pride and Prejudice, most notably, although it was clear to Klaus that there were parts of the story Gisela was not yet old enough to understand. It was odd to think of her as a child sometimes when she spoke with a wisdom well beyond her years.
Gisela was thoroughly pleased with her collection of gifts. She had received an extensive collection of books, some new ribbons for her hair and a beautiful jewellery box, with a pop up enchanted ballerina inside, dancing with enthusiasm every time the box was open. Her favourite gift, however, was a small gold necklace, with a symbol of the deathly hallows as its charm. Despite the charm's association with Grindelwald and his army, the Tale of the Three Brothers was a favourite of hers.
"If you're ever in danger, niece, you need only grip the charm tightly, and I will appear shortly after. Wear it at all times in the Muggle world, or I fear what could happen if you are left to your own devices again," he insisted.
She listened to his advice but hid the charm underneath her blouse in fear of drawing attention to its notorious other meaning, not wanting to associate herself with that dreadful man who was partially responsible for her existence.
*
Dear Tommy,
I confess that despite your absence, I've been having such tremendous fun here with the school empty of almost all the students. Unfortunately, England is too far to travel to for such a short period, so I had to remain here instead of visiting you. Christmas celebrations at Durmstrang were incredibly extravagant, with the whole castle decorated with what must be over ten thousand pounds worth of decorations. I can't imagine even the new King had such extraordinary decorations at Buckingham Palace. It is beautiful, indeed, but it would pale in comparison to seeing you even for five minutes.
It is the dawn of 1937, and with such tensions in both worlds, I fear what is to come in the following years. I have an underlying feeling the world around us is going to fall apart slowly, and then all at once; like there is a bomb at the end of this burning fuse. I don't think my classmates understand how much we are all skating on thin ice, but I find most children our age are too distracted with their own lives to sit back and observe what is falling apart in front of their eyes. For someone turning twelve today, I pride myself in my ability to create rather amateur philosophical quotes on demand.
Your birthday present, as much as we both hate the meaningless celebration, is this letter written in English. I have so much to fill you in on, but that will have to wait for the next letter, as Leo Tolstoy's 'War and Peace' is calling me from the library. I'm serious - I can hear the words screaming for my eyes.
Enclosed is your Christmas present, a book about the Great War and how it affected the Magical community. Uncle Klaus gave it to me, but I read it in one night and decided you must have a taste of this epic.
All the love,
Gisela.
The twelve-year-old girl sent her letter and gift out the owlery window as the clock struck midnight, the castle bells ringing to signify the beginning of a new year. The night's cold crisp air reddened her cheeks, her breath a cloud of fog in front of her as she stared out at the fireworks on the lake from the open turret. In her hands, she held a book so large her fingers could barely wrap around the spine. She flicked her fingers through the English text to the chapter she was up to, sitting on a small table surrounded by owls as colourful lights reflected off the pages while loud bangs of fireworks echoed across the mountain range.
Suddenly, the most strange sensation overcame her. At first, the bangs were erupting from the fireworks display, but then the bangs became canon shots, the Napoleon Russian war appearing before her eyes as the text came alive in her eyes, but then the scenery switched. She was in London - she could tell by the familiar sight of the Thames - and it was burning all around her. Bangs erupted as houses were destroyed as aeroplanes whizzed in the sky above her, the night dark and full of terrorising sights. It had only been a few seconds before she was pulled back into the present moment, the final fireworks falling slowly from the sky as the full moon disappeared behind a cloud, engulfing the scenery in darkness.
Whatever had just occurred, Gisela felt an unexplained feeling of dread fill her heart as 1937 began, and she was sure this was the beginning of the end.
Gisela's vision in the final paragraph of this chapter is the beginning of a vital part of her characterisation. Take note of what it might mean for both her character and the story.