History of Magic class wasn't what Solus expected.
To start with, they were in a classroom on the third floor with windows overlooking the Hogwarts grounds. Not in a dark dungeon.
To continue, the professor was alive.
And to finish, no one was asleep.
Professor Annan stood at the front of the class wearing dark green robes and an expression that suggested he had drunk too much coffee that morning. Behind him, the blackboard displayed an animated map of medieval Europe.
"Good morning," he said with his Caribbean accent. "Welcome to History of Magic. I am Professor Annan. We already met in the Common Room, but things are different here."
He walked between the tables.
Slytherin and Gryffindor shared this class.
Solus was sitting at the back with Albus next to him. Stella was two rows ahead next to Mei Zhang, who apparently had decided that Stella was her new best friend.
"History of Magic," Annan continued, "is not memorizing dates. It is not repeating the names of dead wizards. It is understanding why the wizarding world is the way it is today."
He stopped in front of the map.
"Can anyone tell me when Hogwarts was founded?"
Several hands went up.
Annan pointed to a Gryffindor boy.
"990 AD, Professor."
"Correct. Five points to Gryffindor." Annan touched the map. It zoomed in on the British Isles. "But why was it founded?"
Silence.
"Come on. Someone must know."
A Gryffindor girl raised her hand shyly.
"To teach magic?"
"Too simple." Annan shook his head. "Yes, Hogwarts teaches magic. But that wasn't the reason for its founding. Anyone else?"
Solus raised his hand.
Annan looked at him with interest.
"Mr. Gray."
"Hogwarts was founded as a refuge," Solus said. "In the 10th century, Muggles were hunting wizards. Christianization, as well as other causes in Europe, meant that anything considered 'pagan' was persecuted. The Four Founders created Hogwarts to protect magical children and preserve knowledge that was being lost."
The classroom was silent.
Annan looked at him for a long moment.
"Twenty points to Slytherin." His voice was calm but impressed. "That is the most accurate answer I have heard in five years of teaching this class."
Albus whispered to Solus: "Where did you learn that?"
"I read."
"How much do you read?"
"A lot."
Annan continued: "Mr. Gray is right. Hogwarts wasn't just a school. It was an act of defiance. The Founders said: 'We will not let our knowledge die. We will not let our children be killed. We will build something that lasts a thousand years.'"
He touched the map again. It expanded, showing magical castles and fortresses all over Europe.
"And they weren't the only ones. Beauxbatons was founded in 1290 by magical refugees from the Crusades. Durmstrang in 1294 by Vikings who refused to convert. Ilvermorny in 1627 by wizards fleeing European witch hunts."
He paused.
"Every magical school we know was born of fear. Of danger. Of the need to survive."
He looked at the class.
"And today, that fear is returning."
The classroom went very still.
"What do you mean, Professor?" asked a Gryffindor boy.
Annan crossed his arms.
"I mean that the Statute of Secrecy, the law that keeps us hidden from Muggles—is only three hundred years old. It was signed in 1689 after the witch hunts almost destroyed our society."
He touched the map. A red line appeared, stretching across Europe and America.
"But the Muggle world has changed. They have cameras. Internet. Satellites. Every year it is harder to stay hidden. And every year, more wizards ask themselves: is it worth it?"
"Is what worth it?" Stella asked from her seat.
"Is it worth hiding." Annan looked at her. "Some wizards believe we should reveal ourselves. That we should rule over Muggles. Others believe we should integrate. And others believe we should isolate ourselves completely."
"What do you believe, Professor?" Albus asked.
Annan smiled faintly.
"I believe history doesn't repeat itself. But it rhymes. And I believe that if we don't learn from our past, we will repeat it."
The class continued.
Annan spoke about the Founders. About Godric Gryffindor and his sword imbued with basilisk venom. About Helga Hufflepuff and her cup that never emptied. About Rowena Ravenclaw and her diadem that increased wisdom.
And about Salazar Slytherin.
"Slytherin," said Annan, "is probably the most misunderstood of the Founders."
Solus leaned forward.
"History paints him as a pure-blood fanatic. As someone who hated Muggle-borns." Annan shook his head. "But that is simplifying. Slytherin believed Muggles were dangerous. And in his time, they were. Muggles were burning wizards. Torturing magical children."
He paused.
"Slytherin didn't hate Muggles. He feared them. And that fear led him to make decisions that eventually separated him from the other Founders."
"What decisions?" asked a Gryffindor student.
"He created the Chamber of Secrets. He sealed a basilisk inside the castle. He said only his heir could open it." Annan looked at the class. "Why do you think he did that?"
No one answered.
Solus raised his hand.
"Mr. Gray?"
"To protect his students," Solus said. "If Muggles ever invaded Hogwarts, the heir could release the basilisk as a last defense."
Annan looked at him for a long moment.
"Interesting theory. Ten points to Slytherin."
But Solus saw something in Annan's eyes.
Surprise.
As if he didn't expect anyone to understand that.
After class, as the students were leaving, Annan called out:
"Mr. Gray. A moment."
Solus stopped.
Albus looked at him with concern.
"I'll see you at lunch," Solus said.
Albus nodded and left with the others.
Solus walked toward Annan's desk.
The professor was packing up his notes, but his movements were slow. Deliberate.
"Mr. Gray," he said without looking at him. "Where did you learn about the Founders?"
"I read, Professor."
"What did you read?"
"Hogwarts: A History. The Founders: Legend and Reality. Medieval Magic: A Modern Perspective."
Annan looked up.
"Those are advanced books. For fourth or fifth-year students."
"I found them in my free time."
"I see." Annan closed his briefcase. "And did you understand everything you read?"
"Most of it."
"Most of it?"
"There are parts that don't make sense. Contradictions. Gaps in the history."
Annan studied him.
"Like what?"
Solus hesitated.
'How much can I say?'
Finally:
"The books say Salazar Slytherin abandoned Hogwarts in 1015 AD and never returned. But they don't mention what happened to his family. To his children. To his students."
Annan went very still.
"Why do you care about that?"
"Because if Slytherin had students, and if they stayed at Hogwarts after he left, then his legacy didn't end with him. It continued."
Annan didn't answer immediately.
He walked to the window and looked out at the grounds.
"Mr. Gray," he finally said, "have you ever heard of Corvus Slytherin?"
Solus's heart skipped a beat.
'He knows.'
'How can he know?'
"No, Professor," he lied.
Annan turned around.
"Corvus Slytherin was Salazar's younger brother. Official history ignores him. But according to ancient records... the few that remain." He paused. "Corvus was the one who actually ran Hogwarts after Salazar left. He was the one who trained the students. The one who defended the castle when it was attacked."
Solus kept his expression neutral.
"What happened to him?"
"He died in 1065 AD defending Hogwarts against an invasion of Muggle warlords and traitorous wizards." Annan looked directly at him. "And according to legend, he left something behind."
"What?"
"A chamber, like Salazar Slytherin's, but unlike the weapon, this one left knowledge. A Hidden Chamber." Annan crossed his arms. "But no one has ever found it."
Silence.
Then Annan smiled faintly.
"I suppose that's why you asked about Slytherin's students. You wanted to know if anyone else knew about Corvus."
Solus nodded slowly.
"Yes, Professor."
"Interesting."
Annan walked back to his desk. "Mr. Gray, I'm going to give you a piece of advice. History is like a puzzle. Every piece tells a story. But only when you put them all together do you see the whole picture."
"And what is the whole picture, Professor?"
Annan smiled.
"That is something you have to discover for yourself."
. . . . . . .
Great Hall, 12:30 PM
Lunch was noisy.
Students talked about their classes. Complained about homework. Planned visits to Hogsmeade (though first years couldn't go until third year).
Solus sat at the Slytherin table next to Albus and Stella.
"What did Annan want to talk about?" Albus asked.
"Just about books I read."
"That's all?"
"That's all."
Albus didn't seem convinced, but he didn't press.
Stella, on the other hand, looked at him with narrowed eyes.
"Liar."
Solus looked at her.
"Excuse me?"
"You're lying. I can see it." Stella leaned forward. "Annan asked you something important. Something that made you nervous."
"I'm not nervous."
"Your hands are clenched. Your breathing is faster. And you haven't eaten anything since you sat down." Stella smirked. "Observation. I learned it from you."
Solus sighed.
"Annan asked me about Corvus Slytherin."
"Who?" Albus asked.
"Salazar Slytherin's younger brother. History ignores him, but apparently he was important."
"Why would Annan ask you about him?" Stella asked.
"Because I mentioned that the Founders' history has gaps. And he wanted to see if I knew anything specific."
Stella studied him.
"And do you know anything specific?"
"No."
Another lie.
Stella arched an eyebrow but said nothing.
The rest of the day passed without incident.
Solus had Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall (who turned out to be even stricter than the legends suggested), Herbology with Professor Longbottom (who was surprisingly patient), and Astronomy with Professor Okafor (who spoke with a contagious passion about the stars).
By the time dinner was over, Solus was exhausted.
Not physically.
Mentally.
Too much stimuli.
Too many people. Too many questions.
He needed space.
He needed to think.
. . . . . . .
Slytherin Common Room, 9:00 PM
Solus was sitting in front of the fireplace, alone.
Most of the students were already in their dormitories. Some older ones were playing Wizard's Chess in a corner. Others were studying.
Solus watched the green fire.
'Annan knows about Corvus.'
'How much does he know? Is he dangerous? Or is he a potential ally?'
He had no answers.
"Gray."
Solus looked up.
An older boy was standing in front of him.
It wasn't Marco Zabini.
It was someone new.
Platinum blonde hair. Aristocratic features. Impeccable robes.
Fourth year, judging by the badge on his chest.
Solus went on alert.
"Yes?" he asked with a neutral voice.
Rosier smiled.
It wasn't a threatening smile.
It was warm. Genuine. As if he were seeing an old friend.
"Sorry to bother you. I'm Hadrian Rosier. Fourth year."
"I know."
"You know?" Rosier seemed pleased. "Interesting. I suppose my reputation precedes me."
"Something like that."
Rosier sat on the couch (sofa) opposite Solus without asking for permission.
"I've been watching you, Gray. And I must say, I'm impressed."
"Why?"
"Twenty points in Potions in your first class. Twenty points in History of Magic for an answer that even N.E.W.T. students wouldn't give." Rosier leaned back. "That is... remarkable."
Solus didn't answer.
Rosier continued:
"Slytherin needs people like you. Smart people. People who think."
"Needs for what?"
"To be relevant." Rosier looked around the Common Room. "Look at this place, Gray. Look at our house. Half of us come from families that lost everything after the war. The other half comes from families that never had anything. And the rest of the world looks at us as if we were... Death Eaters in training."
He paused.
"But we aren't that. We are cunning. Ambitious. And if we play our cards right, we can change that perception."
"How?"
Rosier smiled.
"That is something I would like to discuss with you. Along with other students who think like us." He leaned forward. "There is a small group that meets once a week. We discuss... ideas. Plans. Future."
"What kind of ideas?"
"How to make Slytherin respected again. How to connect with other houses. How to prepare for the world after Hogwarts." Rosier made a casual gesture. "Nothing nefarious. Just smart students talking about smart things."
Solus studied him.
'He's good. Very good.'
'He's not being intimidating. He's not pressuring.'
'He's inviting.'
'Seducing.'
"Why me?" Solus asked.
"Because you're different, Gray. Muggle-born but smarter than most pure-bloods. First year but you think like someone older." Rosier smiled. "You are exactly the type of person Slytherin needs."
Silence.
"Think about it," Rosier said, standing up. "If you're interested, let me know. No pressure. Just... an invitation."
He walked toward the stairs.
Then he stopped.
"Oh, and Gray."
"Yeah?"
"Welcome to Slytherin. I think you're going to do great things here."
And he went up the stairs.
Solus remained staring at the fire.
He got up and walked toward his dormitory.
Albus was already asleep.
Solus lay in his bed.
He closed his eyes.
'This is going to be more complicated than I thought.'