Corvus woke in a haze of bliss, his body pleasantly sore from the night before. The first thing he saw was the tangle of forms sprawled across his bed. Hair of red, black, and blond spilling like silken paint strokes across his sheets, as if someone had captured passion itself on canvas. He allowed himself a small smirk, though beneath it lingered a trace of disappointment. None of them had been virgins, and thus no surge of power coursed through him. He felt almost cheated. With a sigh, he slipped quietly from the warmth of the tangled limbs and padded to the adjoining bath.
Steam curled in the air as he slid into the hot water, closing his eyes and letting the heat sink deep into muscle and bone. The door creaked softly, and moments later Yuliana Rusakova entered. Red hair vivid as blood, pale skin glowing against the steam, eyes a crystalline blue that held both innocence and mischief. She slid into the bath without a word, nestling herself in his embrace, her delicate frame pressing against his chest. Corvus tilted his head slightly, inhaling the faint scent of lavender that clung to her hair. His hands traced from the curve of her neck downward, fingers brushing along smooth skin before cupping her breast. Her soft gasp filled the chamber, followed by the gentle rhythm of her breathing as she leaned into his touch. His night of passion, it seemed, was not yet finished.
By the time he finally reached the dining hall for breakfast, it was little more than a hurried affair. Bread, cheese, and strong tea hastily consumed, his lateness a direct result of Yuliana's interruptions. Though there was no regret, not at all. He needed to let that steam off. Still adjusting the cuffs of his robe, he rapped on Professor Greengrass' class and entered at the gravelly call of "come in."
Horatio Greengrass looked as though he had not slept a wink. Parchments, quills, and empty vials and a still steming cauldron were scattered across his desk. The older man rose the moment he saw Corvus, his eyes bright with something between exhaustion and exhilaration. He strode forward, voice sharp and urgent. "From where did you get the tears?" he demanded. "They are more potent than anything I have ever seen or worked with. Was it Albus' phoenix?" His mind was already racing, dismissing his own speculation with a shake of his head. "No, no, I've handled it's tears before. This is different. I will buy as much of the stock as is available, Black. Do not insult me by not agreeing. Whomever you get them, I will buy all. This is priceless."
Corvus merely inclined his head, allowing the professor's enthusiasm to wash over him. He had no intention of revealing the truth. Let the world assume what it wished.
"Professor," Corvus said at last, steady and calm, "we were to travel to Germany today." The reminder snapped Greengrass from his excitement. With a grunt, he crossed to a cabinet, drew out a vial of Invigoration Draught, and downed it in a single swallow. Corvus cleared his throat lightly. "May I have one as well?" he asked. Horatio raised a brow at the question, 'he must have studied all night' he thought and after a pause handed him another vial. Corvus accepted it with a nod, drinking it down and feeling a rush of vitality sharpen his senses.
Freshly bathed and robed, the professor joined Corvus once more. Together, they informed the faculty of their departure and collected the two portkeys provided for them. Moments later, they were whisked away, arriving within the stone halls of the German Ministry of Magic. The clerks and attendants there wasted no time. The paperwork was efficient, the protocols seamless. Within an hour, everything had been arranged. Greengrass, Corvus, and representatives from seven families, each with a loved one trapped in magical coma or catatonia, had given consent for testing of the new potion. The air buzzed with a mixture of formality and fragile hope, and Corvus felt the weight of what was to come settle upon his shoulders with the gravity it deserved.
--
The group reached Eirheim, Heilhaus der Runenwacht, the largest hospital in Central Europe. The German Ministry had already sent word ahead, so when Professor Greengrass, Corvus, and the seven families arrived, they were greeted promptly by two healers. One, tall and hawk nosed, introduced himself as Healer Anselm Vogel, Senior Mind Healer of the ward. The other, a shorter, broad shouldered witch with a steady presence, introduced herself as Healer Clara Reinhardt, Head of Diagnostics. Together, they guided the group through white arched corridors lined with floating lanterns until they reached the Abteilung der Seelenwunden, the Department of Soul Wounds, where those in catatonic state or magically induced comas were kept.
Within the ward, a man from the families stepped forward. His hands trembled slightly as he introduced himself as Heinrich Falk. His voice cracked as he explained: his niece, a fifteen year old Halfblood named Elise, had been attacked by a group of frightened Muggles after an accidental burst of uncontrolled magic. For seven long months she had remained in a catatonic state. "She is all I have left," Heinrich whispered, his eyes moist. "Her parents, my brother and sister in law died in an accident years ago. She is my child in all but name."
Healer Vogel added more clinical detail, his tone grave but professional. "The girl's consciousness has retreated deep into her own mindscape. Repeated Legilimency attempts have shown a barrier. A shell of self preservation separating her from reality. In simple words, she has hidden herself so well that we cannot bring her back. We have tried potions, charms, even rituals of light, but could not reach her."
Corvus listened carefully, then confirmed the verbal and written consent of Herr Falk. Once satisfied, Corvus handed over a vial of shimmering silver blue liquid. The Aetherveil Serum. Healer Reinhardt carefully poured small measured drops between Elise's lips while Healer Vogel monitored her vitals, casting layered diagnostic charms in soft blue and green light. After a few minutes, Vogel gently opened one of Elise's eyelids and whispered, "Legilimens." His face tightened as he entered her mind. The room fell silent, broken only by the steady sound of Elise's breathing and the murmured updates of Healer Reinhardt. "Heart steady… brain activity fluctuating… stabilizing now… magical core activity, increasing…"
After fifteen long minutes, Healer Vogel blinked, released his hold, and straightened. His voice trembled with something close to awe. "She is back."
Heinrich staggered forward. "Back? What do you mean back? Is she herself? Will she speak? Will she walk?"
Before anyone could answer, a rasping whisper came from the bed. "Uncle…" The girl's voice was thin, dry, but unmistakably awake. Heinrich froze, then collapsed to his knees at her bedside. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry, Elise… I'm so sorry," he sobbed, pressing her hand to his forehead. "I failed you… forgive me…"
Corvus quietly conjured a glass, filled it with water and offered it. Elise drank greedily, her blue eyes fluttering open with more awareness. "Uncle," she said again, voice steadier this time. Heinrich wept harder, clutching her hand as though afraid she would vanish. The healers, Professor Greengrass, and Corvus withdrew from the room, leaving uncle and niece their moment of reunion.
Outside, the six remaining families looked at them with faces alight with desperate hope. Healer Vogel, still visibly shaken, turned to Corvus. "The potion has worked… miraculously. Please, let us proceed with the next patient. The one who has been lost to catatonia the longest."
One by one, they went. A boy who had fallen into his own mind after thinking mind arts are easy to master. A woman scarred by cursed fire. An elderly wizard who had not awakened in years. Some required more than one dose, each carefully monitored by Healer Reinhardt's diagnostics. But each time, the Aetherveil drew them back. A mother sobbed as her son whispered her name. A sister screamed with joy when her brother blinked at her and squeezed her hand. Fathers, mothers, children, all wept openly as loved ones returned from the silence of oblivion. The air in the ward grew heavy with relief, joy, and disbelief.
By the time the tests concluded, the healers looked overwhelmed. Healer Reinhardt's normally stern expression was softened by wonder. Healer Vogel looked almost reverent. "This," he whispered, "will change everything we know about coma and the mind."
Professor Greengrass stood straighter than Corvus had ever seen him, pride clear in his eyes. When the records were finalized, stamped with the seal of Heilhaus der Runenwacht, he clasped Corvus on the shoulder. "You have done it, Corvus. I will go to the Potioneers Association with this proof now. With these results, they will register the Aetherveil Serum and it's effects under your name. You will be recognized not only as its creator, but as a Master Potioneer. The youngest in history." 'My name will stand next to yours as teacher and mentor, for eternity.' He thoguht still his eyes shining with pride.
Corvus inclined his head, calm on the outside, though a flicker of satisfaction burned in his chest. For all his ambition, this was a milestone worthy of pride. His name, etched into magical history. His future, secured one invention at a time.
--
By the time Corvus returned to Durmstrang it was already afternoon, the sun casting long shadows over the castle's icy towers. His first thought was of Aunt Vinda. Would she be available for his Dark Arts demonstration? He made his way down the stone corridors toward her classroom, hearing faint voices within. A lesson was in progress. Sixth years, from what he could tell by the steadiness of their tone and the weight of their questions.
He was about to turn away when the door swung open without a sound. Vinda Rosier's sharp gaze met his. Corvus inclined his head in respect. "Professor," he greeted evenly. "My aplogies, if I have interrupted your class." he added.
She went to her seat. "You did not interrupt," she said, voice smooth but cold. "I sensed someone beyond the door and wished to see who it was. Since you are here, join us. I was in need of someone to demonstrate the subtlety of wand twisting in the execution of darker spells."
Corvus stepped into the room, the eyes of the sixth years following his every movement. He nodded briefly to them. "My apologies if I intrude," he said calmly, though his tone carried no true apology. He strode to the front, where Vinda gestured toward a group of cages in the corner. Inside were many harmfull magical creatures. His eyes went to the Erklings. Small, elfin predators with sharp fangs and an unsettling giggle that had lured many a child to its death. Hated creatures, vicious and sly, they were often used in lessons like this.
Corvus levitated one of the Erklings to the center of the room. Its eerie laughter cut off in a shriek as he whispered, "Crucio." The spell struck, and the Erkling convulsed violently, high pitched wails piercing the classroom. Gasps rippled among the students, though they tried to mask their unease. Corvus' expression remained detached, almost clinical, as if he were dissecting a specimen rather than torturing a living thing.
"Observe carefully," he began, voice steady over the creature's screams. "The Cruciatus is more than raw pain. With subtle control, " he twisted his wand slightly to the left, the Erkling's shrieks rising in pitch, its body stiffening in sheer agony. "The torment sinks deeper, touching nerves and searing into the mind. Prolonged, this can break even the strongest will."
Another twist, this time sharper, to the right. The Erkling's screams faltered, replaced by a hollow rasp. Its limbs jerked once, then slackened, though its chest still rose and fell with shallow breath. Corvus let the silence settle for a moment before he continued. "And here, the brain begins to fracture. The consciousness retreats, fleeing into the farthest depths of the mind. What you see now is not death, but catatonia. A body alive, yet hollow. A mind hiding, lost." He paused, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "Unless, of course, someone finds a way to return them."
The students shifted uneasily, the weight of his words pressing on them. Then, with another whispered incantation, a jet of sickly green light burst from Corvus' wand. The Erkling fell limp, lifeless. The room was silent save for the fading echo of its last breath.
Professor Rosier studied him, her eyes narrowing slightly at the smirk she caught and the pointed remark about restoring catatonia. She suspected he had been working on something along those lines but she could not be sure nor would she ask. "A good demonstration, Black," she said finally, rising from her seat. Her tone carried approval, though her face betrayed nothing.
She turned to the class. "Dismissed."
The sixth years gathered their belongings in silence, avoiding Corvus' gaze as they filed out. Many of them were older than him in years, yet what they had just witnessed unsettled them in ways age could not guard against. The Crucio itself they had seen before, even practiced. But Corvus' mastery, the cool detachment with which he twisted pain into precision, and the ease with which he ended a life.. was something else entirely.
The lesson was clear. Madness was frightening, but predictable. A mind lost to darkness could be anticipated. What truly terrified them was someone who remained composed, controlled, and utterly merciless. Someone who inflicted horror not in rage, but in calm intent. And Corvus Black had just shown them that such a wizard stood before them.