Hogwarts, Great Hall, September 22, 2017, 8:00 AM
On Sunday morning, Solus sent the letters.
Two owls from the postal service. One for Mark in Boston. Another for Helen in Surrey.
He watched them fly through the open ceiling of the Great Hall until they disappeared.
'Now I can only wait.'
The wait was the worst part.
Worse than battle. Worse than uncertainty.
At least in battle, you could do something. Move. Fight. Act.
But now...
Now he could only sit. Eat. Attend classes. And pretend everything was fine.
'I need a distraction.'
. . . . . . .
Slytherin Common Room, 10:00 AM
Stella and Albus had agreed to meet for an Intent training session.
They went down to the Map Chamber when the Common Room was empty.
The stairs. The corridor. The green stone door that responded to Solus's blood.
It was getting easier every time.
Inside the Chamber, Solus had them sit on the black marble floor.
"Today," he said, "We're going to practice (practise) sensing specific objects."
He placed three objects in front of them: a stone, a feather, and a piece of wood.
"Each object has a different magical signature. The stone is dense. Stable. The feather is light. Almost ethereal. The wood is alive, even after being cut."
Stella looked at the objects curiously.
"How are we supposed to feel that?"
"By closing your eyes. Extending your awareness. Like I've taught you." Solus sat in front of them. "But this time, focus on one object. Just one. And try to feel what it is."
Albus frowned.
"That sounds... impossible."
"It seemed so at first," Solus said. "But magic responds to attention. If you focus enough, you'll start to feel subtle differences."
Stella closed her eyes immediately.
"Okay. I'll try."
Albus did it more slowly, clearly skeptical.
Solus watched them.
'Stella has natural talent. Her mind is flexible. She doesn't question the impossible.'
'Albus struggles because he thinks too much. He needs to learn to trust his instincts.'
Five minutes passed in silence.
Then Stella opened her eyes abruptly.
"I felt it!"
"What did you feel?" Solus asked.
"The stone. It's like... heavy. Not physically. Magically. As if it were anchored to the ground."
Solus smiled.
"Exactly. That's what dense objects do. They attract magic towards them."
He picked up the feather.
"Try this one."
Stella closed her eyes again.
Thirty seconds.
"It's the opposite. As if it wanted to float. Light. Almost... happy."
Solus nodded.
"Good. Very good."
He looked at Albus.
"And you?"
Albus opened his eyes, frustrated.
"I don't feel anything. Just... silence."
"That's because you're blocking yourself." Solus leaned forward. "Albus, it's not a test. There is no right or wrong answer. Just let the magic come to you."
"But I don't know how to do that."
"Then stop trying. Just feel."
Albus sighed.
He closed his eyes again.
This time, Solus saw him relax. His shoulders slumped. His breathing became deeper.
'There it is.'
Two minutes passed.
Then Albus whispered:
"I can feel... something. Like a hum."
"Which object?" Solus asked.
"The wood."
"Describe the hum."
"It's... warm. As if it were alive. But also sad. As if it remembered what it was before."
Solus smiled.
'Perfect.'
"That is exactly what it is, Albus. Wood retains memory of when it was a tree. Some wizards can hear that memory."
Albus opened his eyes, surprised.
"Did I really feel it?"
"Yes."
"But I... I've never been good at this."
"You're better than you think." Solus stood up. "Both of you are. You just need practice."
. . . . . . .
Great Hall, 12:30 PM
During lunch, Solus noticed something.
Hadrian Rosier was watching him.
Not obviously. Not with hostility.
Just... watching.
From the other side of the Slytherin table, Rosier occasionally looked in his direction. Assessing. Calculating.
Solus hadn't given a definitive answer after the first meeting.
He had said he would think about it.
And he had been thinking about it.
'I need to infiltrate. Observe. Understand what Rosier is building.'
'But I also need to maintain distance. Not commit too much.'
After lunch, Rosier approached.
"Gray. Do you have a moment?"
Solus nodded.
"Sure."
They walked to a quieter corner of the Great Hall, away from curious ears.
"I've noticed," Rosier began, "that you've been thinking about our offer."
"Yes."
"And?"
Solus looked at him directly.
"I'm interested. But I have questions."
Rosier smiled.
"Excellent. Ask."
"What is the ultimate goal of the group? You said you wanted to improve Slytherin's image. But what happens after that?"
Rosier leaned against the wall.
"After Hogwarts, most of us will enter the wizarding world. Jobs. Ministries. Businesses." He paused. "We want to ensure that when we do, we have a network. People to trust. People who understand that the world is changing and we need to change with it."
"Change how?"
"The Statute of Secrecy is dying, Gray. Every year it's harder to keep ourselves hidden. And when it collapses, not if, when, the wizarding world will need leaders who can navigate that crisis."
Rosier looked at him with intensity.
"We want to be those leaders. And we want people like you with us."
Solus processed that.
'He's genuine. Or at least, he believes what he says.'
'But that doesn't mean there isn't a hidden agenda.'
"And who decides how we navigate that crisis?" Solus asked. "Who leads the leaders?"
Rosier smiled.
"That is the right question." He leaned forward. "For now, we are a collective. We all have a voice. We all contribute. But eventually, yes, someone will have to make difficult decisions."
"Someone like you?"
"Maybe. Or maybe someone else." Rosier shrugged. "That will be decided with time. Based on who demonstrates vision. Competence. Character."
'Pretty words.'
'But also empty.'
Solus nodded slowly.
"Alright. I'm in."
Rosier smiled genuinely.
"Excellent. We meet this afternoon. Three o'clock. Same room."
"I'll be there."
Rosier extended his hand.
Solus shook it.
. . . . . . .
Upper Years Study Room, 3:00 PM
When Solus arrived, everyone was already present.
Amélie Dubois. Marcus Bennett. Oliver Greengrass. Cassandra Warrington.
And in the center (centre), Hadrian Rosier.
"Gray." Rosier pointed to the empty armchair. "Officially welcome."
Solus sat down.
"Thanks."
"Today," Rosier began, "we are going to discuss our next project. Cassandra, do you want to explain?"
Cassandra, the sixth-year Prefect, pulled out a parchment.
"In two weeks, Hogwarts will have its first Cultural Exchange Ball. It's a new event, designed to celebrate the students from other schools who are here."
Amélie nodded.
"It will be the first formal event that includes all houses and all exchanges. A perfect opportunity to show unity."
"We want," Rosier continued, "to organize a Slytherin table that includes students from all houses. A statement. Demonstrating that Slytherin can collaborate."
Marcus smiled.
"And we also want to organize a cultural segment. Each house presents something from its culture. Slytherin will present something unique."
"What?" Solus asked.
"We haven't decided yet," Rosier admitted. "That's why I wanted you here. Muggle-born. Unique perspective. What do you think Slytherin should present?"
Solus thought about it.
"We shouldn't present something obviously Slytherin," he said finally. "That would just reinforce stereotypes."
"Then what?" Oliver asked.
"Something unexpected. Something that shows Slytherin understands the world beyond British magic." Solus looked at Amélie. "What is Beauxbatons presenting?"
"A traditional French dance," Amélie replied.
"And the others?"
"Durmstrang is considering a dueling (duelling) demonstration," Cassandra said. "Ilvermorny was talking about Native American music."
Solus nodded.
"Then Slytherin should present something intellectual. Something that shows our depth."
"Like what?" Marcus asked.
"A presentation on Founders' Era Magic." Solus looked at Rosier. "Corvus Slytherin. The forgotten brother of the founder. A Master of Magic who taught students from all over the world."
The group fell silent.
"That is..." Cassandra searched for words. "Brilliant."
"No one knows that story," Oliver added. "It would be educational. And it would show that Slytherin has historical depth beyond... you know. Voldemort."
Rosier was looking at him with an expression Solus couldn't quite read.
Interest. Surprise. And something else?
"I like it," Rosier finally said. "A lot. Can you research more about Corvus? Prepare material for the presentation?"
"Yes."
"Perfect." Rosier smiled. "Then that is our project. Gray will lead the research. Amélie, you will help with the visual presentation. Marcus, you coordinate with the other exchanges."
Everyone nodded.
The meeting continued for another hour.
They discussed logistics. Who they would invite to the Slytherin table (students from all houses who were "influencers" among their peers). How they would ensure the event was memorable.
And during all that time.
'Rosier is a master manipulator. But not in an obvious way.'
'He empowers others. Makes them feel important. Valuable.'
'And in the process, builds loyalty.'
'It is exactly what Grindelwald would do.'
When the meeting ended, everyone dispersed except Rosier.
He stayed by the window, looking at the grounds.
"Gray. Stay a moment."
Solus stopped.
'Here it is.'
"Tell me something honest," Rosier said without turning. "Why did you join?"
Solus didn't hesitate.
"Because I'm tired of being judged for my house. And because I think you're right. The world is changing. And I prefer to be prepared."
"Is that all?"
"No." Solus walked to the window. "Also because you're interesting, Rosier. And I want to see what you're building."
Rosier turned.
His eyes, gray (grey), studied Solus.
"You're honest. That's rare in Slytherin."
"Or I'm just good at lying."
Rosier laughed.
"Maybe both." He crossed his arms. "Corvus Slytherin. Why did you suggest that specifically?"
"Because it's a forgotten story. And forgotten stories are listened to well. They remind us that there is always more than meets the eye."
"And do you think Slytherin has more than meets the eye?"
"I know it does."
Rosier nodded slowly.
"Then you and I are going to get along well, Gray."
He extended his hand again.
"Welcome to the Verus Ordo. Officially."
Solus shook his hand.
'Verus Ordo. True Order.'
. . . . . . .
Slytherin Common Room, 6:00 PM
That night, Solus told Stella and Albus about the meeting.
"Verus Ordo?" Stella arched an eyebrow. "Sounds pretentious."
"It is," Solus admitted. "But it's also effective. Rosier is building a network. And I need to understand what he plans to do with it."
"And the Cultural Exchange Ball?" Albus asked.
"It's real. In two weeks. And I'm going to present on Corvus Slytherin."
Stella smiled.
"That's perfect. You have access to the Chamber. You have his journals. No one knows more about Corvus than you."
"Exactly."
"But aren't you worried?" Albus asked. "Revealing too much."
"I'm not going to reveal the Chamber. I'm just going to talk about his history. What is in public books." Solus leaned back on the sofa. "And maybe some additional details that make the story more interesting."
"Details like what?" Stella asked.
"Like that Corvus taught students from all over the world. That he believed magic had no borders. That he died defending Hogwarts from traitorous wizards."
Solus smiled faintly.
"A story that will resonate with the event's theme."
Stella laughed.
"You're devious, Solus."
"Thanks."
That night, before sleeping, Solus checked his trunk.
Waiting for a reply letter.
From Mark.
From Helen.
Nothing.
'It's still early. Letters take days to reach the States.'
'And Mom... maybe she doesn't even remember she received my letter.'
He lay on his bed.
He looked at the ceiling.
'Two days since the call.'
'How long can I wait before acting?'
'A week?'
'Two?'
'Until it's too late?'
He closed his eyes.
And prayed to gods he didn't believe in.
'Please. Let her be okay.'
'Just a little longer.'
'Just until I can do something.'
. . . . . . . . . .
Interlude: Boston
Marriott Hotel, Boston, September 22, 2017, 9:00 PM (Local Time)
Mark Gray had just returned to his hotel room after fourteen hours at the office.
The project was behind schedule.
'Another week, maybe two. Helen is going to kill me'.
But it was worth it. This contract meant a promotion. Better salary. Financial security for Solus at Hogwarts and beyond.
Mark took off his shoes.
He turned on the TV.
And saw the envelope on the nightstand.
'Mail?'
The hotel didn't receive mail for guests.
He approached.
The envelope was cream-colored.
With a stamp he didn't recognize.
And his name written in...
Solus's handwriting.
Mark opened the envelope quickly.
He read.
And his world stopped.
["Dad, something is wrong."]
["She's not eating well."]
["She's forgetting things."]
["Mom needs you."]
["I need you."]
Mark dropped the letter.
He sat on the bed.
He took out his phone.
He dialed the home number.
'Beep'.
'Beep'.
'Beep'.
[Leave your message at the tone]
[Hello, you've reached the Grays. We can't answer right now. Leave a message]
"Helen, it's me. Call me. Please. It's urgent".
He hung up.
He dialed again.
'Beep'.
'Beep'.
'Beep'.
[Leave your message at the tone]
Mark called five more times.
Every time, voicemail.
'Why isn't she picking up?'
He looked at the clock.
9:15 PM in Boston.
2:15 AM in England.
'She's sleeping. She has to be sleeping.'
'Right?'
But something in his chest told him no.
Something told him Solus was right.
'Something is wrong.'
Mark opened his laptop.
He searched for flights.
The next direct flight to London left tomorrow at 7:00 PM.
Arrival Monday morning.
'Too much time.'
'But it's the best I can do.'
He booked the flight.
Then he sent an email to his boss:
[Family emergency. I have to return to England immediately. I'm sorry]
He closed the laptop.
And looked at Solus's letter one more time.
'Eleven years old'.
'My son is eleven years old'.
'And he's taking care of his mother because I'm not there?'
Guilt hit him like a punch.
'What kind of father am I?'