Hogwarts, Great Hall, October 3, 2017, 8:00 AM (Friday)
The day before the ball, Hogwarts buzzed with anticipation.
Students talked excitedly about what to wear. Who was going with whom. What performances they would see.
At the Slytherin table, Stella was reading the Daily Prophet out loud.
"Listen to this: 'The Hogwarts Cultural Exchange Ball marks a historic milestone. For the first time in decades, students from seven different magical schools will gather to celebrate magical diversity'".
"Sounds important," Albus said.
"It is. It says here the Minister for Magic will come. And ambassadors from each represented school."
Solus looked up from his oatmeal.
"The Minister?"
"Kingsley Shacklebolt," Stella confirmed. "It says he'll give a speech on international unity."
'Interesting.'
'Politicians. Ambassadors.'
'Eyes of the wizarding world on Hogwarts.'
'My presentation won't be just for students.'
'It will be for people who matter.'
An owl landed in front of Solus.
He recognized his father's handwriting on the envelope.
He opened it quickly.
[Dear Solus,
Your mother continues to improve. The doctors are pleased with her progress. She is more lucid every day.
She still has difficult moments, but they are less frequent.
I told her about your presentation tomorrow. She got very emotional. She said she wished she could be there to see you.
I will be there. McGonagall invited me as your father. I'll arrive early tomorrow.
I'm proud of you, Solus. I know the last few weeks have been the hardest of your life. But you keep going. You keep doing amazing things.
That requires a strength not many adults have.
See you tomorrow.
Love, Dad]
Solus folded the letter slowly.
'Dad is going to be there. Watching my presentation. Without knowing the truth.'
The weight of that settled in his chest.
"Good news?" Stella asked.
"Yes. My father is coming tomorrow. And my mother is better."
"That's great, Solus."
"Yeah."
But his mind was already elsewhere.
'What will Dad think when he hears the presentation?'
'Will he see the passion? The connection?'
'Will he suspect there is something else?'
'No.'
'It's impossible.'
'No one would think an eleven-year-old boy is the reincarnation of a thousand-year-old wizard.'
'It's too absurd.'
'Even for the wizarding world.'
. . . . .
History of Magic Class, 10:00 AM
Professor Annan was particularly animated that day.
"Tomorrow," he said as he walked between the tables, "some of you will present on historical topics at the Cultural Exchange Ball."
He looked directly at Solus.
"Mr. Gray. You will present on Corvus Slytherin."
Murmurs in the classroom.
"Who is that?"
"Slytherin had a brother?"
"Gray always chooses weird topics."
Annan raised a hand for silence.
"Corvus Slytherin is an excellent topic. And one that deserves more attention." He turned to the class. "Can anyone tell me why history tends to forget figures like Corvus?"
A Gryffindor girl raised her hand.
"Because they didn't do spectacular things? Like win wars or create famous spells?"
"Partially correct," Annan said. "But there is another reason. History is written by those who have power. And those who have power tend to remember only those who reinforce their narratives."
He paused.
"Salazar Slytherin is remembered because he represents an ideology. Pure-blood. Ambition. Cunning. But Corvus... Corvus challenged that narrative. And that's why he was forgotten in the history".
Annan walked to Solus's desk.
"Mr. Gray, I hope your presentation does justice to that challenge."
"It will, Professor."
"Good. And after class, come to my office. I want to discuss some details."
. . . . .
Professor Annan's Office, 11:30 AM
Annan's office was exactly as Solus remembered it.
Maps on the walls. Books stacked on shelves. A window overlooking the grounds.
Annan was sitting behind his desk, with a steaming cup of tea.
"Sit down, Gray."
Solus sat.
"Did you want to talk about the presentation?"
"Yes. But not about the content." Annan took a sip of tea. "About you."
Solus tensed.
"About me?"
"I've been a professor for fifteen years, Gray. I've seen hundreds of students. And I can recognize when someone is carrying more than they should". Annan leaned forward. "I know about your mother. I know you've been struggling. And I know this presentation means more to you than a simple school project."
Solus didn't answer.
"I'm not going to ask you why," Annan continued. "That is your business. But I want you to know something: it's okay if you feel overwhelmed tomorrow. It's okay if you need to pause. It's okay if you cry."
"I'm not going to cry."
"Maybe not. But if you do, no one will judge you." Annan looked at him directly. "Strength is not never breaking, Gray. It is continuing even when you are broken."
Silence.
Then Solus asked: "Have you ever lost someone, Professor?"
Annan nodded slowly. "Yes. My brother. During the war. He was an Auror. He died in an ambush in 1998".
"I'm sorry".
"Me too." Annan looked at his cup. "For years, I couldn't talk about him without falling apart. Every mention of his name was like a stab wound."
"And now?"
"Now... it still hurts. But I also remember the good things. His laugh. His bravery. The way he always believed in me". Annan looked up. "The pain never disappears completely, Gray. But it learns to live with you. And eventually, you can use it to do something beautiful".
"Like what?"
"Like honoring (honouring) those you love. Like your presentation." Annan smiled faintly. "You are using the pain of losing your mother, not physically, but emotionally, to give voice to someone who was forgotten. That is beautiful."
Solus felt something tighten in his throat.
'I can't cry here. Not now'.
"Thank you, Professor."
"Don't mention it." Annan stood up. "Now go. Rest. And tomorrow, make him proud. Corvus. And yourself."
. . . . .
Map Chamber, 3:00 PM
Solus went down to the Chamber one last time before the ball.
Not to practice.
But to reflect.
He sat in front of the map table.
The sixty-one points of green light pulsed softly.
Each one a legacy.
Each one a reminder.
He touched the point in England. The Gringotts Vault 7 appeared.
Then he touched a point in Russia. An image of a dark tower materialized.
One of Corvus's hideouts.
'I've never visited it. Maybe someday.'
He touched another point. Scandinavia. A cabin in the mountains.
Another legacy.
Another piece of the puzzle.
Solus closed his eyes.
'Tomorrow, I'm going to talk about you, Corvus. About your life. Your death. Your legacy. I'm going to say your name out loud. And I'm going to make people remember. Because that's what you deserve. And because it's the only thing I can do.'
He heard footsteps on the stairs.
Solus opened his eyes.
Stella and Albus entered.
"We knew you'd be here," Stella said.
"How did you know?"
"Because we know you." Stella sat next to him. "Are you nervous?"
"Yes."
"It's normal."
"I know."
Albus sat on the other side.
"Do you want to go over the presentation again?"
"No. I already know it by heart."
"Then what do you need?"
Solus thought about it.
'What do I need?'
'I need tomorrow to go well.'
'I need Dad to be proud.'
'I need Mom to heal.'
'I need the pain to stop.'
But he said:
"I just need you guys to be there. Tomorrow. In the audience."
"Always," Stella said.
"No matter what," Albus added.
Solus nodded.
"Thanks."
They sat in silence for a long moment.
Then Stella asked:
"Solus?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you going to be okay? After tomorrow."
'Am I going to be okay?'
'I don't know.'
'But I have to try.'
"Yeah," he said.
"I'm going to be okay."
And this time, he wasn't sure if it was a lie or hope.
. . . . .
Slytherin Common Room, 7:00 PM
That night, the Verus Ordo met for the last time before the ball.
"Tomorrow," Rosier said, "is our chance to show the wizarding world that Slytherin has changed. That we are more than our reputation."
He looked around the room.
"Amélie, your French dance is beautiful. Marcus, your presentation on Caribbean magic is fascinating. And Gray..."
Rosier smiled.
"Your story about Corvus Slytherin is going to be the highlight of the night."
"How can you know that?" Solus asked.
"Because I've read your notes. Cassandra showed them to me." Rosier leaned forward. "You talk about legacy. About unity. About building something bigger than ourselves. That is exactly what the world needs to hear right now."
He paused.
"And coming from a Slytherin Muggle-born first-year student... it's going to resonate."
Solus nodded slowly.
'Rosier understands the power of symbols. And he's using me as one. But that's okay. Because I'm using him too.'
. . . . .
Night, 10:00 PM
Before sleeping, Solus wrote in his journal.
October 3, 2017
Tomorrow is the ball. The presentation. The moment I've been preparing for.
Dad is going to be there. Watching. Without knowing who I really am.
Mom is improving. That's good. But there is still a long way to go.
Annan told me that pain can create something beautiful. I hope he's right.
Because tomorrow I'm going to stand in front of hundreds of people and talk about a man I was a thousand years ago.
I'm going to say his name. Tell his story. Honor (Honour) his legacy.
And maybe, just maybe, I'll honor mine too.
I'm ready.
I think.
He closed the journal.
He lay down.
He looked at the green canopy of his bed.
'Tomorrow.'
'Everything changes tomorrow.'
He closed his eyes.
And this time, when he slept, he dreamed of a stage.
Hundreds of faces watching him.
And his voice, clear and firm, telling a story no one had heard in a thousand years.
'I'm ready.'