Castle Trondheim

Seamus had barely turned around to see Angelica shaking a lifeless Oliver before he collapsed under the fatigue. Before everything faded to black he could barely hear Kingsley say.

"Don't you dare, Finnigan!"

And then he was gone for the world.

A large explosion rocked the ground, followed by the sound of granite cracking like bones under the foot of a troll. After the dust cleared they had little time to react to what had happened.

"THE COLUMN", shouted Ron.

The silence that followed was deafening. Both sides were so entranced by the decent of several tons of cultural history that the flashes of lights and outbreak of fire that had riddled the square only a minute before had now completely stopped, if only for a moment.

The column was falling faster and faster but unbearably slowly. Someone shouted something about getting out of the way. Seamus could not tell who it was due to the ringing in his ears but reflex took over. Fight or flight, the answer was obvious. He grabbed the nearest bodies he could – Lovegood and someone he didn't recognize – and transported them all out of the killzone.

They stood at a balcony looking out across the battlefield; bodies riddled the ground, fires broken out, and pieces of houses torn away or melted down to shapes unrecognizable.

Seamus opened his eyes with an effort and the world slowly slid into focus.

"So you're awake now" a voice uttered with a drawl. "Quite the display you gave us, it's been all over the news"

"You don't watch news" Seamus replied drily as he pushed himself up to a sitting position in the bed. "In fact I don't think you know how a TV works at all"

"You actually believe that I can break every bone in your body and put them all back together in under an hour and not understand how a Television works? Please, I know that you're a grunt and have a hard time understanding it but not everyone is as thick as you. You should lie down; you are not fit for being up and running anytime soon"

"What day is it? I have exercises to do"

"It's Tuesday, you were out cold for a day. Damnit, Seamus if you keep straining yourself like this you are going burn out like a torch. Obviously no pun intended" He added after a short pause.

"I did what I had to, and I will continue doing so. At least let me do my job, I'll refrain from using magic. I'll even invoke the bloody 'doctors orders' if they ask me, but I need to be there."

"Fine, but remember, you shouldn't train for at least a week, maybe two. You could break within a say three years perhaps less if you keep avoiding my recommendation and continue behaving like an idiot."

Seamus scoffed. As if he really had any choice. Orders were orders and without his personal effort and strain, they would suffer a major blow to their arsenal. He looked at the doctor, he was weaving something with his wand and muttering some words that Seamus neither heard properly nor understood very well. It might have been another language, hard to tell.

"You know, there was a time when you would have just invoked the power of your father instead of coming up with a reason to why you are right."

"Simpler times." the white-clad man answered with a hint of bitterness.

"Yeah I guess. So, anything else?" Seamus asked.

"I've put a small charm on you that should protect you from any lasting damage, but it basically drains me. It's a bit too complicated for you to understand, I know, but basically, if you decide to play with your Fyre, then that will draw power from both of us and then I will bloody murder you because as you can see, you are not the only one in here."

Seamus looked around and saw that more than half of the beds in the wing were occupied. Someone further down the corridor was missing a leg. There was blood on the sheets, loads of it.

"Yeah, don't worry about that, I'm sure we can figure something out for her" the Doctor absently commented as he finished his weave. Seamus suddenly felt invigorated, like a weight had been lifted of his soul.

"Here" the Doctor now handed him a rather large clear bottle filled with some sort of shimmering blueish water. "One mouthful, every hour that you are awake, it tasted like vinegar mixed with tar. And try not to be a complete moron next time you decide to set an entire village on fire."

"Will do, Doc. And, Malfoy?"

"What?" Draco said over his shoulder as he made his way down the corridor.

"Thanks."

Draco didn't answer; he just strode down the corridor to the room at the end of the hall. He would without a doubt try to figure out a way to grow back a full leg within week, before the tissue started to heal and make the chances of a full recovery smaller. Seamus gave him a sixty percent success-rate, maybe sixty-five.

He got up, put on his clothes and his necklace, grabbed his wand and got out.

"Psst."

No response.

"Psssssssssst!"

"What?!" he whispered back a little irritated.

"Do you have any idea what we are going to do now?" she asked nervously.

"I have no idea!"

"When did you get here?"

"Yesterday, they put me through a few tests immediately. You?"

The lecture-hall was filled with the anxious whispers of eighteen, nineteen and twenty-year olds. There was about fifty of them in the room, from all over the world and all of them were trying to figure out why they were wasting their time sitting in an empty classroom when it had become abundantly clear time was their most precious resource. They should be studying.

"Three days, I saw a boat come in two days ago, there was a big fuzz about it, was like the whole castle was moving around. Then some guy was shipped off to the infirmary, I heard a rumour that it was the pyromancer. There was a body too." She trailed of when she thought of the stretchers being carried through the halls.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Lilou. You?"

"Issam." There was a short pause. "Where're you from?" he asked softly

"France" Lilou said with a smile as she remembered the Palace of Beauxbaton. The large archways and the sunny halls filled with spring warmth. The baths and the beaches. The garden where the students would study and practice the wonder of magic and make friends with the wood nymphs that roam the surrounding area of the Academy.

"Where are you from, Issam?" she asked lightly and in good spirit by her memories.

"The joint Madrasah of the Deserts." Issam said, flashing his white teeth as her eyes grew to what appeared to be double the size.

"That's so cool! Was it beautiful, and also was it strict? I have so many questions! I've been talking to people all over the castle but you are the first one from outside of Europe or the U.S!"

"Well, let's just say that the National Geographic doesn't give the Saharan nights as much credit as they should. But that might have more to do with that it is one thing to take pictures of the stars when you have a campfire for warmth and a completely different thing to lie comfortably in bed under a glass-roof, just gazing up at them night after night for twelve years, not having to worry about staying warm or the dangers of the desert."

Lilou was star struck. Sure, she missed the Academy immensely but right now she would give anything to just experience the things that some of the other recruits had talked about. She was looking at Issams face in awe just picturing the view from the dunes in the blue light of the moon with the desert stretching out forever.

She was snapped out of her day-dreaming when the big doors at the corner of the hall opened and a below average length, short, dark haired and very well-built man stepped in carrying what looked like a rather large table-clock and a mannequin. He was wearing a leather jacket, a pair of plain jeans and a t-shirt the colour of coagulated blood. Behind him stepped a tall and skinny man wearing traditional British wizard's robes. His hair was golden and the eyes immediately swept over the rows upon rows of seats that were presented on the pitched floor, all pointed towards the well-lit desk and the blackboard in the centre of the room. Lilou felt a piercing coldness as his eyes as it swept over her and when she met his eyes she felt only sadness and an immense willpower.

"Good morning, Ladies and Gentlemen, Witches and Wizards, Magi and Warlocks, Onmyoji and Witch-doctors or whatever the hell you called yourself back home. Quite frankly, I don't care!" he paused for a while. "Here, in this room, and out on the training-grounds, you are merely recruits, slabs of meat and willpower that I might, might be able to carve a soldier out of."

He said his monologue as he put the clock on the table and the mannequin on the left side of the room in the area between the blackboard and the stands. The tall man had taken position opposite it on the right side of the front of the room. He came to a halt in front of the desk between the mannequin and his apparent assistant and faced the class at ease with his hands behind his back.

"Any questions?" He said as he now for the first time also swept the bleachers with an almost mechanical pattern as if he had done this many times before.

A young man in one of the front rows raised his hands and the man in the leather jacket looked at him as to signal him to speak.

"Who are you?" he asked, not disrespectfully, but as if he doubted this man's authority.

"My name is Seamus Finnigan, and you will call me Sir." he answered, not taking his eyes of the asker for a few seconds before he looked out onto the class again. "I am the Second Battlemaster of Castle Trondhiem and I am your commanding officer." He paused for a second before he said. "But you lot, probably know me better by my dreadful nickname. The Pyromancer" he locked eyes with Lilou and she even if she had not heard the bitterness in his voice, she could very well see that he absolutely hated the name he had been given by the public. Even the muggles knew about it, and everyone she had talked to was afraid of him.

Her classmates started to turn and shift nervously in their seats, they had all heard the stories of a man drenched in flames, ruthlessly burning down houses and setting people ablaze. It was – in a way – hard to believe that this man had the destructive capabilities that they had seen on the news the past few days. He did not look like much, really.

"Let's just get one thing clear, okay?" He said loud and clear and sort of emptied the atmosphere in the room of the shuffling and the tension. "There were two reasons for burning down that fishing-village. The first one is that the Fyre that I use is magical and volotile, and thus it distorts whatever trace of our trail there was left. If I had not done what I did, the enemy might have been able to track us even through all our charms and hexes. As it is now, the risk is very small that they will be able to because there is nowhere to start." He paused for a few seconds. "The second reason is that you have all seem the mugglenews of the firestorm that took the muggles a day to put out right? Which in turn means that you have seen the Mark of the Order stretching its wings across the bay. Propaganda, is the most important tool we have in order to secure our position in this war. If we cannot convince those still neutral that we are fighting for what we – and they – actually believe in, then we will lose this war on the basis that you all would not be sitting here. 'The Pyromancer' is very high profile and sadly, we need that. Not only because it strikes fear into the enemy, but also because it makes our message reach further through muggle-media then we could be able to on our own."

The class looked utterly confused and Seamus let out a sigh. Why was it always so hard to explain how these things worked?

"Okay, if we had just used the mark, it would barely even have reached the national news of the UK, right? But since we set an entire city on fire, we have reached major news outlets on every continent. Millions of people know about the strange fireworks and the flames that devoured a small port city in eastern England, but to those initiated in the Wizarding world and the war between the Order and Voldemort this strange news-story means that the Order has struck a blow. We. Did. Something. Something big and it's about damn time if you asked me, because you are forty-seven recruits here in Trondheim, which is almost record low. People are losing faith in us and that is why we need to stop this cloak and dagger warfare that we have been doing for the past four years and start doing some high profile things. Does that answer your doubts about my morals? Because quite honestly, I don't need some pesky eighteen year-olds telling me that it's wrong of me to start a fire." Finnigan looked out across the eyes that showed a range of emotion. Fear, disgust, admiration, respect, it was all there and he didn't need it. He needed soldiers. The tall man in the corner had a slight grin stuck on his face.

"So!" Seamus continued. "Is there anyone in here that would like to challenge my authority as your commanding officer? Is there anyone that for some reason does not think that they'd be able to follow me out in the field? Is there anyone not trusting my judgment?" It was an open question. "If no hand is raised, I will have you know that I already picked out the person with the best test-score and I will make that person duel me instead." The class shifted in their seats once again. Then a hand was raised near the right isle.

Seamus waved the person down and in front of the class was a stone-faced young woman with very short blond hair spiking out of her head. She was wearing plain khakis, a tank top and a sweater. She looked at home in the muggle-clothes so Lilou guessed she was born one, which wasn't unusual here.

"Give me your wand." Seamus said. "Don't worry, I won't damage it."

She took it out from a pocket inside her sweater and as Finnigan examined it a smile broke the bitterness of his face.

"Core of Unicorn hair, Oak and Ivory intertwined, very beautiful. Perfectly balanced, this is German, no?"

She nodded and was clearly surprised. Everyone else in the classroom except for the tall man seemed as surprised as she was; identifying a country of origin by just looking at a person's wand, that was something they never taught you in the magic schools. Seamus gave the wand back to her.

"What's your name and what school did you go to?" he asked strictly.

"Idris Kauper. I went to Durmstrang… Sir!" She spoke in short sentences, almost as if she was throwing rocks at Seamus with messages attached to them. He was not fazed by this attitude towards him.

"Ah, Durmstrang. Almost all of you have good scores, some exceptional. Krum is doing a hell of a job up there, reforming that school and I assume that is why you question me as well."

She nodded and Seamus faced the class again.

"To those of you who do not know, Durmstrang was well known for its abundance of graduates who ended up becoming Deatheaters or Necromancers. So when we took the school back in 98' we reformed it and put former student Victor Krum on the job of overseeing it. In 01' he became the official headmaster and they've been spitting out grade A' recruits for years now. What's interesting is that because of their history with the dark arts they have a mandatory class in critical thinking, Wizarding-politics and questioning authority, especially the one that rules the regime of Britain. They teach the students to understand a person's motivation for doing anything. It is something that while in this situation is kind of annoying; I think that every school should teach." He paused to collect himself. "So Idris, how is Krum and his league of merry men in tight leather clothes and wizard staffs?"

Idris did not answer. Seamus looked at her and Lilou suddenly understood that, while she appeared cold, she had actually liked Durmstrang and Krum. This was not about the fact that she might have thought the pyromancer to be a terrible person who just happened to work for the good side. This was about principle. Until any leader had proven his or her worth to her, Idris would question them and Seamus had given her the perfect opportunity to do so.

"So, take a few steps back and stand on the line in the stone, I will do the same" Seamus said, and only now did Lilou see the thin lines of green that cut through the gray stone floors. "This is seven meters, right, almost twenty-three feet. But thing is that I am not allowed to use magic." The class started whispering. "Doctors orders" He explained patiently as he focused on Idris once again. "Colin, will you do me a favour?"

The tall man, who's apparent name was Colin, picked up his wand, pointed it midway between Idris and Finnigan and muttered a few words. A light, bluish shimmer enveloped the pair and took the shape of a long cylinder.

"Stunning spells only." He told Idris, who had her wand at the ready and pointing towards the suspiciously relaxed man at the other end. Colin then walked up to the clock-like thing on the desk.

"This device, courtesy of Miss Granger, is a training tool." He proclaimed. "It will, when activated, pick a random number between ten and sixty seconds and will at the end of that period give a signal and the duel will commence. The person that first falls unconscious, loses." And with those words he tapped the clock with his wand and it started ticking.

"But Seamus doesn't have wand, how will he be able to knock her out?" Lilou whispered to Issam. Issam was at the edge of his seat and just slightly shock his head and said.

"I don't know."

The seconds ticked away, one unbearable tock at a time. The tension in the room was visible to the naked eye; you could almost scoop it up with a spoon. Then suddenly, without warning, it made a loud sound. Idris was quick, but before she had even cast a spell, Seamus was advancing fast. One, two, three, four steps, he was almost at the middle-ground.

"Lähmen!" Idris yelled and a yellow light shot out of her lightly curved wand. But where Seamus had been a moment before was now a slight yellow mist. Instead he was two thirds of the way between the combatants.

"Lähmen!" Idris shouted once again, this time with fear in her voice as this man barrelled down on her like a bear but once again Finnigans dodge was hard to see even for the observer. Suddenly, he made contact with her extended wrist, grabbed her by the neck with his right hand and Idris just collapsed.

The silence was complete as the blue shimmer around them vanished. Idris fell into Seamus arms as he signalled Colin to assist him. Colin muttered a few words and pointed his wand at her and she was awake again, just as suddenly as she had been knocked out. Colin told her to go back to her seat and Seamus resumed his position in front of the class.

"As I said; No magic, you don't always need it. If there is any lingering doubts as what I can teach you let me know after today and I will make sure to correct that but for now I bid you welcome to Castle Trondheim. Let's begin, shall we?"