xxxxxThere was a freeze in his mind the moment the explosion had happened, a fulfillment of the paranoia that had hit him the moment he had stepped into the main square of the quaint village town of Hogsmeade. He had accompanied the headmistress to chaperone the students of Durmstrang to the ball, but had soon been separated from her, to watch the students as they separated off into groups. The excitement of the students had soon turned into screams and he had switched quickly into a mind focused solely on healing the students around him and getting them to safety. The attack must have been a continuation of terrorist attacks of SCAR or perhaps something totally different. In the aftermath of it all, the renowned headmistress, Marishka Shtriga was indeed dead and a new era had begun.
xxxxx Unlike other schools, Durmstrang was well run by the students guiding other students. Though they were grieving, they kept their discipline, perhaps out of duty, or perhaps as a comfort and coping mechanism. There was a dedication to the lessons they had learned and surprisingly a renewed interest in the art of blacksmithing. The desire to learn a skill that the headmistress had been renowned for providing a way to remember her. The swords she had given the students who graduated was a longing reminder of a woman who had been a decisive headmistress perfect for the cold and austere, yet fiery school that Durmstrang was.
xxxxxHowever, now was the season for a new era. There was a need for a new headmaster or headmistress of the school, someone who could lead the school in a time of grieving and pain and make it stronger. As Albrecht had been on the front lines, he had been the one to inform the school of the necessary but painful message of her passing as well as the terrible news of the fact that there were twelve students who had their lives stolen during the attack in Hogsmeade. From the moment that he had sent the owl to the governing staff of the school to the moment he was able to step back on to the beautifully frigid grounds that he called his own, there were decisions being made on who would take the position that Shtriga had held.
xxxxxUnbeknownst to Emery Albrecht, the staff had decided upon him to take the position as they felt his experience as ambassador to non-humans provided a unique skill to handle delicate situations and terrible circumstances. They also considered the fact that unlike others, Albrecht had experience as a barrister providing a unique perspective to the students just as Shtriga had experience in wizarding law. Now, the most valuable experience they believed Albrecht to have was his advocacy for half-bloods. The situation was tenuous as they had just begun to accept half-bloods when the Pyre of Hogsmeade had occurred. Perhaps Albrecht could be a benefit, they thought, by creating a new peace between the customs of Durmstrang which he had also attended and graduated from and the unique experience he had with beings of the magical realm. Perhaps, the students of Durmstrang would grow stronger still.
xxxxxThe moment Emery Albrecht arrived back on the grounds of his beloved school, they called him to a meeting and announced their intention of making him the new headmaster. It was an honour and a daunting challenge he had not even thought of receiving, having focused solely the past two weeks on the circumstances right in front of him. There was a prideful part of him that thought solely of himself, the challenge of being headmaster intriguing him. But he regretted that part as he always had. The regret had been especially poignant when he had been ambassador. At first, he thought he dare not accept it. How could he when his first thought had been the exhilaration of a new challenge? But the staff insisted and he vowed, just as he had in pouring his soul into teaching rune magic to these bold and powerful students, that he would hold this position with reverence to the late headmistress and fight to create a better Durmstrang every year. He vowed silently within his heart that he would not dare sully the late Shtriga’s name and he would honour the school that she had been a part of recreating after the Karakoffs had ruined the reputation of Durstrang. He believed she should have been headmistress until a natural death, but now her life had been lost and now it was his turn to fight for a grieving school body and to honour the lives that had been lost.
xxxxxHe had grieved many lives in his varying careers and that night, when he finally arrived in his Durmstrang quarters, he kneeled down onto the hard floors, he grit his teeth as the adrenaline of the past two weeks wore off and he sobbed for the lives that had been lost. He was disciplined, strong, effervescent in public, but this was his true self. He often cared so much for the people around him that it burned his soul and his physical body. As a child, he had decided it was better if it seemed he did not care, because it would break him. However, he did care and he would always care so. His life had been flitting, from one adrenaline rush to the next, but people who knew him would know that though he was an adrenaline junkie, he had never done anything to hurt others, People who knew him would say he was loyal. However, Emery wondered as his sobs subsided, if the people who knew him would say he was enough for this role. It was the greatest responsibility he had in his life. He had said yes, but was his yes enough? Emery closed his eyes and dreamed that night of a mysterious figure that could never be reached, calling his name. The voice echoed in his ears when he woke up the next morning. There was a certainty in his bones that next morning that had never been before. He woke with the certainty that this was what he was meant to do. He did not know if he would do it well, but he would fight to be a headmaster worthy to be after Shtriga, worthy of the school Durmstrang was and the students who were there.
