siren call [Linnéa]

A week had passed since the Durmstrang beginning of term. Putting aside her misgivings about the school's new location - the third in her school career and this time to an entirely new country - Edyta was eager to get out and explore the new town. She had spent the week attempting to learn a few phrases of basic Swedish, and although she wouldn't be able to understand a thing that was said to her unless the conversation was exclusively about her health or favourite colour she wasn't in the least concerned. The seventh year had heard about the marketplace along the coastline, and she intended to see it for herself as soon as possible. Today was the first free afternoon and as soon as lessons were over Edyta had donned her cloak and headed along the unfamiliar path that she had been told led to the town.

Secretly, she was hoping to see one of the Sirens who were said to run the town. Her love of the sea had led her to attempt to learn Mermish, with mostly unsatisfactory results so far, though she would love the opportunity to find out if she could make herself understood that way. Shopping wasn't a concern; Edyta had a few sickles in her purse but most of her money had been spent on her new schoolbooks as not all of them could be obtained secondhand. Still, she had learned a long time ago that one didn't need money to have fun. Nor was she desperate for companionship - almost the opposite, in fact. She still recalled the muffled giggles from her first year when her command of Russian had been barely understandable, and she didn't want her friends to hear her first clumsy efforts at a new language. At least she only had one year left at school, so it wouldn't matter how well she spoke Swedish by next summer.

The autumn sun was hanging low in the sky and the sky was almost entirely clear as she approached the town. Already she could smell the sea air and felt her spirits lift as the first houses came into view. One one side of the road they seemed to become shabbier and less attractive, and she guessed this was the outskirts of the fishermans village they had been warned about. Despite her curiosity, Edyta had no plans to visit the most dangerous part of town - at least not on her first visit. She turned in the opposite direction and found herself passing through the centre of town, where the buildings looked distinctly upmarket and, to her, inaccessible. There were other people walking here, but thankfully nobody stopped to speak to her. She paused by the entrance to the Siren museum before deciding to return when she was able to understand at least some of the exhibits.

Finally she reached the marketplace, where she was content to stand and simply drink in the new surroundings. The sea was lapping against the harbour wall and there were myriad stalls offering unfamiliar merchandise. She was just deciding which of the kiosks she should examine first when she heard footsteps from behind. Turning, she saw a familiar face, though not quite someone she felt she could call a friend. She and Linnéa had always been somewhat distant with each other despite shared interests including playing on the Krov Quidditch team. Edyta wasn't about to pass up the chance to practise her new language skills though. "Hej Linnéa, mår du bra?"* she asked with a smile, quite forgetting that the other girl was, in fact, Swedish and would likely find Edyta's attempts at her native language quite laughable.

@Linnéa Holmström

[*"Hello Linnéa, how are you?" (literally "are you okay?")]

Up until fifteen minutes ago, she had never set foot on this particular plot of Sweden; and yet, somehow, it still felt familiar.

Looking out over the harbor, Linnéa took a slow, deep breath. She felt at peace. The tang of saltwater, cries of bartering at the market stands, screeching gulls overhead… She allowed her blue-green eyes to close briefly. The ambient temperature was still somewhat warm – but the September breeze was cool, lifting a few blonde hairs that had worked themselves loose from her braid.

It was difficult to believe the first week of term had already come and gone, but thus far things were progressing nicely. The Start-of-Term Gala had been a nice touch, and it was positively refreshing to not have to worry about being rebuked for slipping out of Russian and into her native tongue outside of lessons. But, of course, there were many who were displeased with the changes. Perhaps they’d come around… and if not, well, what’s done is done and they’d simply need to get accustomed to the new normal.

At the sound of her name, the blonde was pulled from her musings. She opened her eyes and turned towards the source; to her mild surprise, she found herself face-to-face with her teammate and former Captain. If there was one person she’d least expected to address her in Swedish, it was probably Edyta. Even after six full years at Durmstrang, the older girl’s Russian was still strongly infused with Polish; plus, she was a Seventh Year this term and Swedish wouldn’t be compulsory until next. However, if Edyta wanted to practice her Swedish, the blonde wasn’t averse to indulging.

Linnéa blinked, puzzled as she processed what the other girl had actually said. Why would Edyta be asking if she was okay…? Had she appeared troubled? Then, comprehension dawning, she allowed herself a small smile. It would be rude to laugh; and whatever Linnéa Catrine Holmström was, it was not impolite. At least, not without good cause.

“Hello, Edyta – I am well, thank you,” she replied in Swedish. “Did you have an enjoyable summer?”

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