Hogwarts, The Chamber, September 24, 2017, 7:00 AM
Solus had spent the last two mornings in the Chamber, researching.
Corvus's journals were a goldmine.
They were organized chronologically. Dozens of volumes bound in black leather, each marked with years.
990-1000 AD. 1000-1010 AD. 1010-1020 AD.
And so on until the last volume:
1060-1065 AD.
The year of his death.
Solus had started with the first one.
Corvus's handwriting was elegant but rushed. A man who had too many thoughts and too little time to write them all down.
. . . . . . .
Excerpt from Corvus Slytherin's Journal (994 AD):
"Salazar keeps insisting that only pure-bloods should be admitted. He doesn't understand. Or he doesn't want to understand.
The problem is not the blood. It is the fear.
Muggles hunt us. They burn us. They call us demons.
But Muggle-born children are not to blame for that. They are victims just as much as we are.
I told him: 'Brother, if we reject those children, how are we different from those who reject us?'
He looked at me as if I were a traitor.
Maybe I am. To him".
. . . . . . .
Solus closed that journal slowly.
'Corvus understood. Even then'
'Blood doesn't matter. Will does'
He opened the next volume.
. . . . . . .
Excerpt from Corvus Slytherin's Journal (1005 AD):
"Salazar left today.
There was no farewell. No talk before leaving.
He just packed his things and left before dawn.
Godric is furious. Helga is crying. Rowena says it was inevitable.
I just feel... relief.
I love my brother. But I cannot follow him in this.
Hogwarts is a refuge. For everyone who needs magic.
Not an exclusive club for the 'worthy'.
Now it is my turn to lead this. And by the gods, I will do it better than him."
Solus felt something tighten in his chest.
'A thousand years later.'
'And the world remains the same.'
'Fear. Division. Blood.'
He closed the journal.
'Enough for the presentation.'
'I can use these excerpts. Show that Corvus was different.'
'Show that Slytherin was always more than its founder.'
. . . . . . .
Library, 10:00 AM
Solus had reserved a table in the History section to work on his presentation.
Stella and Albus accompanied him, helping him organize information.
"So," Stella said, reading his notes, "Corvus was basically the opposite of Salazar."
"Not the opposite," Solus corrected. "The balance. Salazar saw threats. Corvus saw potential."
"And he taught students from all over the world?" Albus asked.
"Yes. According to his journals, he had apprentices from Scandinavia, North Africa, even from what is now Russia." Solus pointed to a list he had compiled. "Twenty-three direct apprentices. Each became a master in their own right."
"That is incredible," Stella murmured. "Why does no one know this?"
"Because Corvus didn't seek fame. He sought to leave history through what he saw in his texts." Solus looked at his notes. "And after his death, his students scattered. Some founded schools in other countries. Others became advisors to magical kings. But none wrote his name in history books, probably many ancient families descend from his apprentices".
"Then you will do it," Stella said with a smile.
"I hope so."
A shadow fell over the table.
Solus looked up.
A girl stood next to them. He hadn't seen her before.
Platinum blonde hair in a braid. Blue eyes like ice. Pale skin. Robes with the Durmstrang crest embroidered in red and silver.
Exchange student.
"Solus Gray?" she asked with a Russian accent, but her English was perfect.
"Yes."
"I am Katya Volkov. Sixth year. Durmstrang". She looked at the notes on the table. "I heard you are preparing a presentation on Corvus Slytherin".
Solus nodded cautiously.
"That's right."
"May I sit?"
"Go ahead."
Katya sat opposite them.
'She must be related to Professor Volkov. She has to be.'
'Same surname. Same cold eyes.'
"At Durmstrang," Katya began, "We teach that Corvus Slytherin was one of the last masters of True Magic. That his death marked the end of an era."
"That is correct," Solus said.
"We also teach that he sealed knowledge before dying. Knowledge that could restore magic to its original form." Katya looked directly at him. "Is it true?"
Silence.
Stella and Albus exchanged nervous looks.
Solus kept his expression neutral.
"I don't know. The records are incomplete."
"But have you researched?" Katya pressed.
"I have read what is publicly available."
"And?"
"And Corvus was cautious. If he left something behind, he would have hidden it well."
Katya studied him.
"My aunt, Professor Volkov, says you are brilliant. That you think differently from other first-year students."
'So they are family.'
"Your aunt is kind."
"My aunt is not kind. She is honest." Katya leaned forward. "I am interested in your presentation, Gray. Corvus Slytherin is a subject Durmstrang respects. If you are going to speak about him, I want to ensure you do it justice."
"Justice how?"
"Don't reduce him to sentimentality. Don't paint him as a saint. He was a warrior. A strategist. A man who died defending what he built." Katya paused. "Give him the respect he deserves."
Solus nodded slowly.
"That is what I plan to do."
Katya stood up.
"Good. Then I look forward to your presentation."
She walked toward the shelves.
Then she stopped and looked back.
"Oh, and Gray. If you ever find that knowledge Corvus sealed... let me know. Durmstrang would be very interested."
And she left.
Stella waited until Katya was out of earshot.
"That was... intense."
"Yeah," Albus murmured. "Do you think she suspects something?"
"She doesn't suspect. She's just interested." Solus went back to his notes. "But it's good to know. Durmstrang values Corvus. I can use that in the presentation."
"But aren't you worried?" Stella asked. "If she discovers the Chamber..."
"She won't discover it. Corvus sealed it with blood. Only someone of his line can access it." Solus looked at Stella. "And as far as the world knows, that line died out centuries ago."
. . . . . . .
Great Hall, 12:30 PM
During lunch, the owls arrived.
Solus watched the ceiling open, waiting.
'Four days since I sent the letters.'
'Mark should reply soon.'
'And Helen...'
A brown owl descended.
It landed in front of Solus.
It dropped a cream-colored envelope.
Helen's handwriting.
Solus took it with hands that trembled slightly.
He opened it.
[Dear Solus,
I received your letter. Or I think I received it. Sometimes letters get mixed up with other things and I'm not sure what is real and what isn't.
I called Doctor Thompson. Or I tried to call him. But when I dialed the number, I didn't remember why I was calling. So I hung up.
Maybe I'll try again tomorrow.
The garden is growing too much. The roses are everywhere. Sometimes I think they are trying to enter the house. It's silly, isn't it? Roses don't do that.
Or do they?
I haven't seen the neighbors in weeks. Or maybe days. Time feels strange. As if some days last hours and others last minutes.
Sometimes I sit on the sofa and when I get up it's night. Has that ever happened to you?
Your father hasn't called. Or maybe he called and I didn't answer. The phone rings sometimes but when I pick up there's no one.
I miss you, Solus. But sometimes I forget why I miss you. I know you're far away. But I don't remember where.
Are you at a school? Or was it a trip?
I'm sorry. My mind is confused today.
Or maybe it's always confused.
With love,Mom
P.S. Do you like tea? I made a lot of tea today. Or yesterday. I'm not sure who I made it for]
The letter fell from Solus's hands.
It landed on the table next to his untouched plate.
"Solus." Stella's voice was urgent. "What does it say?"
Solus couldn't speak.
He couldn't move.
'She's getting worse.'
'Much worse.'
[Sometimes I forget why I miss you]
[I don't remember where you are]
'She's losing her memory. Losing time. Losing reality.'
Albus took the letter.
He read.
His face paled.
"Solus... this is..."
"Serious," Stella finished, reading over Albus's shoulder. "This is very serious."
Solus finally found his voice.
"I need to leave."
"What?" Albus asked.
"I need to go home. Now." Solus stood up. "I can't wait anymore. Something is very wrong and I need..."
He stopped.
Because suddenly, the whole Great Hall was looking at him.
No.
They were looking behind him.
Toward the High Table.
Professor McGonagall was standing, walking toward the Slytherin table.
With an expression Solus hadn't seen before.
'Worry.'
'No.'
'No no no.'
McGonagall reached the table.
"Mr. Gray. I need you to come with me. Now."
Her voice was firm but not harsh.
It was the voice of someone about to deliver bad news.
Solus stood up on autopilot.
"What happened?"
"In my office, Mr. Gray."
"Is it my mother?"
McGonagall didn't answer.
But Solus saw the answer in her eyes.
'Yes.'
The world tilted.
Stella held his arm.
"I'm going with you."
"Miss Zabini..." McGonagall began.
"I'm going with him," Stella said firmly. "He's not alone."
McGonagall looked at Solus.
He nodded weakly.
"Alright."
"Very well. Follow me."
They walked in silence through the corridors.
Students moved aside to let them pass.
Whispers followed in their wake.
"What happened?"
"Gray looks terrible."
"McGonagall never pulls students out of lunch."
They climbed stairs.
More stairs.
They reached the gargoyle guarding the Headmistress's office.
"Ginger Newts," McGonagall said.
The gargoyle leaped aside.
They climbed the spiral staircase.
The office door opened.
And inside, waiting by McGonagall's desk, was a man.
Tall. Messy brown hair. Eyes red from crying.
'Dad'.
Mark Gray turned when they entered.
And when he saw Solus, his face crumbled.
"Solus. Oh, God. Solus."
He fell to his knees.
He opened his arms.
And Solus ran to him.