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It took all of a week for someone to figure it out. Tendou was surprised someone didn’t realize it sooner.
He was paler than most, which was probably the most obvious one. His shadow was strangely shaped since his body did not cast a shadow but his clothes did. The lack of reflection, however, was a bit more noticeable if you actually bothered to watch the world around you. Reflections showed up in all kinds of places—on mirrors, on windows, on the water. All someone had to do was look to the side while they walked up a tower and spot a pair of floating clothes without a head in the window.
After a week at Durmstrang, someone finally noticed one of those oddities and drew the conclusion that Tendou was a vampire.
They were wrong, but close. He was a dhampir. His father was a vampire, but his mother was human.
Because someone thought he was a vampire, they decided to nail a cross and a necklace of garlic to his bedroom door.
The garlic smelled, but not because he was a dhampir or anything. The scent was just nasty and strong in such large quantities. The cross did nothing to dhampirs or vampires, so they were idiots for thinking that would work.
Tendou stared at the nailed in objects for a moment and heard snickering from down the hall. He didn’t turn to see who it was. Didn’t really care. He would know who did it when they moved on to more direct means, like shoving him or taking his picture that would come out blank, maybe following him around with a mirror that would not show his face.
Those objects on the door did not hurt him (or vampires for that matter), but people thought they did. People thought they could hurt him like this. People wanted to hurt him.
Tendou ignored the bit of pain that sprouted inside his chest. He knew this was coming. The teachers had warned him and his mother that children could be cruel. Tendou thought it wouldn’t bother him.
It didn’t. It did. He didn’t know how he felt. It wasn’t good, that was for sure.
He opened his bedroom, lit the fire, and sat down at his desk. He had a few homework assignments and he at least wanted to attempt them before taking a break and reading some comic books.
The names came the next day and Tendou finally had faces to put to the people that nailed clichéd items into his door.
Blood-sucker.
Dead boy.
Dracula.
Tendou just watched them with wide eyes, wondering when they would go away. Then they said it, the one that hurt the most.
Monster.
Tendou shifted his eyes down to his breakfast and pretended not to hear them. He pretended there wasn’t a crowd of five boys gathered around him while he ate, calling him despicable names.
“Hey!” a new voice said, louder than the names.
The voice was angry and unfamiliar. Tendou glanced up and saw Semi. He had never really talked to Semi, but they had classes together; they sat next to each other in Enchantments and Botany. Semi held himself confidently but he was always had a small scowl, like he chewed lemons for fun but hated the taste.
Semi looked at the boys surrounding Tendou and said, “You got a problem with him?”
“You haven’t heard?” one of the boys said smugly. “He’s a—“
“Yeah, I saw the crosses and garlic you nailed to his door,” Semi cut in, irritated. “I’m right across the hall from him. His door stinks and it’s ugly. And now I know it's your guys' fault? Thanks for nothing."
Semi sat down across from Tendou and began to spread butter on his toast. The boys remained, silent, and Semi glanced up at them.
“Oh, you’re still here?” Semi said dismissively.
The boys muttered to themselves and left.
“You are kinda weird,” Semi said to Tendou, like it was a minor thing and not an insult.
“Really?”
“Yeah. They don't really care that you're a vampire. They’re only jerks because they can’t tell what you’re thinking. They want to make you angry or hurt you so at least they know what you’re thinking.”
“Oh,” Tendou said, more of a realization this time. “I'm not even a vampire. I'm a dhampir."
Semi didn't even acknowledge Tendou's admission. That he was a monster. That he wasn't human.
“I can't tell what you're thinking either," he said instead. He reached for the fruit basket and picked up a banana. As he peeled it, he looked at Tendou and asked, “So what are you thinking right now?”
Tendou poked at his eggs. After a moment, he smiled and said, “That I have a friend.”
“You’re pretty simple. I don’t know why those guys couldn’t figure you out.”
“Maybe they’re idiots.”
Semi laughed. “Yeah, probably.”
Semi stuck around, which surprised Tendou. He thought for sure Semi would get sick of Tendou’s hard-to-read personality, but he didn’t. And now that Semi was with him, no one bothered him about the dhampir thing. They still looked at Tendou with cruel eyes, but at least they weren’t saying anything anymore. Semi even helped him take down the cross and garlic.
“Are you going to try out for the Quidditch team?” Semi asked one night. They were sitting on opposite ends of a large sofa in front of one of the many fireplaces in the tower where the dorms were. “Quidditch is a big thing here.”
“That’s why I came here!” Tendou said. “I’m pretty good.”
Semi raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
Tendou looked down at his hands and clenched his fists, wishing they were wrapped around a bat. “I’m a beater. I love that feeling when I hit a bludger right in front of a chaser right before they try to score or accept a pass. The chasers look at me with such frustration and I know that I’m better than them."
Semi frowned. “You’re really weird."
Tendou whipped his head up and asked, “Don’t you like that feeling?”
Semi tilted his head back against the top of the sofa. “I mostly play chaser so I hate beaters like that. I don't think I'm trying out, though. Maybe next year."
Tendou smiled. “I’m trying out. People never let me join their teams before. They kept calling me a monster. I can’t wait to join a team here!”
“Good luck.”
“Are you gonna come cheer for me? You should. You can chant my name when I make awesome plays.”
Semi rolled his eyes. “No way.”
“Aw, c’mon!”
To say Quidditch was a big deal at Durmstrang was an understatement.
There were three circuits at Durmstrang—bronze, silver, and gold, with gold being the best. The older players usually played in silver and gold with younger players in bronze. Twice a year, the players in the gold league formed a team and played a match against Beauxbatons. Professional Quidditch scouts from northern Europe came to those matches to look for potential players.
So, yeah, it was a pretty big deal.
Tendou had an old broom, but he knew how to fly with it. The cold air didn’t bother him since he was cold already, which meant he didn’t need to wear thick gloves that messed up his grip like the other players.
He was thrumming with energy as he headed downhill to one of the Pitches on grounds. Semi was reluctantly coming—“just to shut you up,” he grumbled—and followed behind him.
Semi sat in the stands while Tendou joined the large group of boys and girls on the frosty pitch. There were many older students that grouped together, looking at the younger students with amused looks, either reminiscing about when they were first years trying out or laughing at how bad some people were going to be.
There was a group of first years standing together so Tendou jogged over, only realizing too late that half of the group were the idiots that stuck a cross and garlic on his door. (He still had holes from the nails!)
“Ew, the monster is trying out,” one of them sneered, earning him a wave of laughs.
“Your mother Semi isn’t here today, freak.”
“Maybe if we tie garlic to our brooms, he’ll go away!”
“I don’t understand,” a tall boy said flatly. “Why are you calling him those things?”
The boy had short brown hair and thick eyebrows. Tendou couldn’t remember his name. He was pretty quiet in class, but often stuck around after class to privately ask professor’s questions. He seemed studious and serious, not the kind of guy Tendou would hang out with.
“You don’t know, Ushijima?” one of them asked.
Ushijima frowned. “Know what?”
“This guy’s a monster. A total freak.”
Why did those guys have to be trying out? Why was it just like before? People were supposed to respect his Quidditch skills and not care about his species here.
Ushijima looked at Tendou, who did not let the hurt show on his face.
“He looks normal…?” Ushijima said, clearly confused. He tilted his head slightly and frowned, even more confused.
“He’s a vampire!” someone said, practically spitting the word.
“Dhampir,” Tendou muttered.
“Huh? Did the freak say something?”
“He said, dhampir,” Ushijima said. “Poor hearing isn’t going to help you on the Pitch.”
The guy’s face dropped and Tendou snorted loudly into his hand.
“What is that?” Ushijima asked curiously, looking at Tendou. "A dhampir?"
“My dad was a vampire, but my mom was a witch,” Tendou answered. "I'm half-vampire, half-human."
Ushijima nodded, looking like he either just heard the most boring thing or the most important thing. It was hard to tell. God, and people though Tendou was hard to read.
“What do you play?” Tendou asked, settling in next to Ushijima. He wasn’t about to be run out by those jerks. “I’m a beater.”
“I play chaser and beater. Obviously not at the same time. I change from game to game.”
Tendou laughed. “Yeah, I figured. Are you good?”
“Yes,” Ushijima said, no hesitation, no second guessing.
“He’s a first year?”
“There’s no way he’s human.”
“Monster.”
But they were no longer looking at Tendou. They were looking at Ushijima.
Tendou was inclined to agree with them.
Ushijima was a monster.
There were several teams in each circuit. The captain’s of the teams posted their decisions on the bulletin boards in the towers several days later. As Tendou pushed through the crowd, his arm on Semi’s wrist as he dragged him along, he spotted Ushijima awkwardly waiting at the edge of the crowd. Tendou lifted his free hand and waved.
“Ushijima!” Tendou shouted. “C’mon!”
Ushijima looked around and frowned. With a flat voice, he shouted back, “There are a lot of people! I do not want to push anyone!”
Tendou grinned. “I’ll look for you!”
Ushijima nodded.
Tendou pushed through the crowd, dragged a grumbling Semi behind him, and finally made it to the bulletin board. Tendou saw his name on four silver teams and one gold team—he had options! Ushijima was on every gold team, including the one Tendou was one.
“Did you get on a team?” Semi asked.
Tendou did not respond. He started dragging again, breaking out of the crowd towards the tall, awkward boy in the corner. Ushijima cast a quick, unsure look at Semi, who was cursing violently now.
“You’re going to tear my arm off,” Semi hissed, yanking his arm free.
Ushijima held out his hand. “My name is Ushijima Wakatoshi. Nice to meet you.”
Semi raised an eyebrow. He shook Ushijima’s hand. “Uh, yeah. Semi Eita. We sit next to each other in History of Magic.”
“You made every gold team,” Tendou said happily. “I figured. You were a beast!”
“What about you?” Ushijima asked, unphased by the news, like he expected it. “You had a very interesting style.”
“I only made one gold team.” Tendou raised his arms, cupping the back of his head. His elbows pointed out in either direction. “I’m pretty happy. Especially since the jerks giving me a hard time didn’t even make bronze.”
“They didn’t deserve to be on a team,” Ushijima said sternly. “They were severely looking in basic skills and I doubt they would listen to their captain. Their hearing was also very poor and communication is important in a match."
Tendou smiled.
Ushijima joined the team Tendou made. He mentioned it casually over breakfast after Tendou sat down next to him and reached across him for the platter of pancakes. Ushijima hardly had a chance to say it with Tendou chatting his head off about comic books.
It turned out that the captain of the team was not the finally authority. Apparently, the gold teams had coaches to prepare the players. Their coach was very old fashioned, having them line up on the first day of practice. He was an old man with a hooked nose that stood with his shoulders hunched forward.
“From now on, Ushijima is the main chaser,” the coach said. “Beaters will clear the way for him and chasers will pass him the quaffle. Are there any questions?”
No one spoke, no one questioned the coach. Tendou didn’t really care if Ushijima was the star so long as he got to have fun and see that wonderful look on his opponent’s faces. The idea that everyone had to get through him to get to Ushijima wasn’t so bad, like he was the second in command or something.
Two monsters on the same Pitch, he thought absentmindedly.
The Durmstrang Castle was located far up north and high in the mountains, which meant the grounds were almost always freezing. The lake was permanently frozen over where there were not charms to thaw away the ice, and the grass was dry brown and covered in frost, crunching beneath your feet when you walked. Students wore thick coats and hats and studied around the many fireplaces in the castle to stay warm.
Halfway through (grueling, horrible, torturous!) practice, Ushijima flew up next to him and looked at Tendou’s bare hands.
“Aren’t your fingers cold?”
“I’m cold-blooded. Like a snake.” Tendou stuck out his tongue like a snake that waggled its forked tongue.
“I thought you were a dhampir, not a snake.”
Tendou laughed. “It’s a monster joke!”
Ushijima nodded seriously.
It was the first joke Tendou had made about his "condition." It felt like the right thing to do when talking to another monster that was more fearsome than him.
The day of their first match, Tendou and Ushijima waited for their teammates at the edge of the Pitch.
“Don’t hold me back,” Tendou said.
It was obviously a joke so of course Ushijima said, “I’ll try my best.”
Their teammates arrived, patting them on the shoulders and jogging out onto the Pitch.
Tendou held out his fist to Ushijima. He waved it in case Ushijima didn’t know how to do a fist bump. Ushijima brushed their knuckles together. Apparently he wasn’t completely hopeless.
Ushijima had the ghost of a smile on his lips when he pulled back his hand.
“What?” Tendou asked dubiously. He didn’t know why Ushijima would smile.
“Let’s go be monsters,” Ushijima said.