On January 1st, 1995, Sweden, Finland, and Austria officially joined the European Union, expanding its membership to fifteen nations.
Two months later, in March, the Schengen Agreement came into effect, abolishing border controls and creating a borderless zone among EU member states.
In a sense, Jon Hart could be considered one of the first British citizens to enjoy the benefits of European integration.
He needed no visa or paperwork—just a ticket from London to Stockholm, and before long, he was in Sweden.
Language posed no great challenge—after all, English was the international lingua franca. In the well-educated Nordic region, most people could converse with Jon effortlessly.
Traveling from Stockholm to Grums took little effort as well, and before long, he located Lake Vänern—the one from Grindelwald's memories.
...
It was late June, with temperatures hovering around fifteen degrees Celsius.
As such, Lake Vänern's waters hadn't frozen solid as they had in Grindelwald's recollection.
Without a frozen surface to plunge through, as Grindelwald once had, Jon faced a new problem—how to enter Durmstrang during the summer?
He wandered the lakeshore for a time before finally settling on the sand to study his surroundings.
After about half an hour, a group of figures appeared in the distance.
Several boys, a year or two older than Jon, were walking toward the lake, chatting animatedly.
Each wore a dark red fur cloak—unmistakably the same style as Viktor Krum's.
Without question, they were Durmstrang students.
The boys didn't notice Jon, likely mistaking him for a Muggle.
Laughing and joking, they reached the lakeshore, stripped off their cloaks, tied them around their waists, and one by one dove into the lake.
"Could it be that in summer, you have to swim to Durmstrang?" Jon wondered silently.
He couldn't swim—but that wasn't going to stop him.
Quickly pulling out the remaining gillyweed he had saved from the Triwizard Tournament's Second Task, Jon stuffed a handful into his mouth. It still tasted just as awful—like chewing on spider legs.
Almost immediately, that familiar suffocating sensation returned.
Using a Bubble-Head Charm to keep his belongings dry, Jon followed the Durmstrang students and leapt into the lake.
He inhaled deeply, letting the cold water rush through his gills and fill his lungs with oxygen. His hands and feet, now webbed, propelled him easily through the water as he trailed after the others.
The Durmstrang boys were strong swimmers, but none could match Jon's enhanced speed. Even so, he kept a cautious distance, gliding quietly through the depths.
The boys ahead swam toward the center of the lake—then began to dive.
Jon followed suit, scanning the dim blue around him. Yet, unlike what he'd seen in Grindelwald's memory, there was no vast underwater castle wrapped in a shimmering curtain.
Then, he felt it—a sudden shift in the current.
Something was moving toward them. Something big.
...
Jon rubbed his eyes, peering into the murky water.
A massive shadow was closing in fast.
His heart nearly stopped.
"What... what is that... monster?" he gasped, a stream of bubbles escaping his mouth.
A colossal shape—whale or something far more dreadful—surged toward them through the depths.
If it was a whale, it was unlike any Jon had ever imagined.
If the Ukrainian Ironbelly had been the largest creature he'd ever seen, then this underwater giant dwarfed it tenfold. The glow of one enormous eye alone was easily larger than a man.
The massive beast opened its maw, unleashing a torrent that swallowed the Durmstrang boys whole.
Jon trembled as he drew his wand, knowing no spell he'd ever learned could hope to stop it.
The whale had noticed him too.
He had no time to react.
A surge of water engulfed him, and Jon was swept helplessly into the creature's mouth.
...
When he regained consciousness, he gasped for breath. The gills and webbed limbs granted by the gillyweed were fading fast.
He could hear voices nearby—the same Durmstrang boys, by the sound of it.
"Is this his first time riding the Leviathan?"
"Could he be a Muggle who snuck in? Should we tell the Headmaster?"
"Didn't you see his wand? And where would you even find the Headmaster? He's gone—everything's chaos right now."
Jon sat up, blinking as his eyes adjusted. Several tall, broad-shouldered boys stood around him, eyeing him curiously.
"Cough—cough…" He coughed a few times before managing to speak. "I'm Chris Patrick, a fourth-year student."
The boys exchanged puzzled glances. None of them seemed to recognize the name.
But Durmstrang's student body was several times larger than Hogwarts'; seeing an unfamiliar face wasn't exactly unusual.
"I need to find Professor Winston Vance, the Dark Magic instructor. It's urgent," Jon added quickly.
Professor Winston Vance—the man Dumbledore had instructed him to seek upon arriving at Durmstrang.
At the mention of the name, the boys' suspicion seemed to ease.
"You sure you're alright? Want us to help you up?" one of them asked.
"No need," Jon said, standing on his own while discreetly taking in his surroundings.
Just as in Grindelwald's memory—there it was: a breathtaking underwater castle enclosed within a massive air bubble, its transparent walls revealing countless fish gliding by outside.
"Let's head back," one of the Durmstrang students said, and the others began to move.
Jon hurried after them, continuing to study the scenery as they walked.
Before long, they passed through a grand arched gate adorned with a crest—a double-headed eagle and a stag's head.
Above it, carved in runes, was a single word: Durmstrang.