Hogwarts, Great Hall, October 4, 2017, 6:00 PM
The Great Hall had been transformed.
The long tables were gone. In their place, round tables decorated with colored (coloured) tablecloths representing the seven schools: red and gold for Hogwarts, blue and silver for Beauxbatons, dark red for Durmstrang, blue and cranberry for Ilvermorny, and so on.
The enchanted ceiling showed a starry sky. Floating candles illuminated the space with warm light.
And at one end of the hall, a stage had been erected.
Solus was standing behind the stage, waiting.
He wore formal Slytherin robes. Dark green with silver details. More elegant than anything he had ever worn.
His hands were trembling slightly.
'Breathe.'
'Just breathe.'
Stella appeared at his side.
"Ready?"
"No."
"Good. That means you care." Stella adjusted his collar. "You're going to be amazing."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've seen you practice (practise). And because you believe in what you're going to say."
Albus arrived with two cups of punch.
"Thought you might need this."
Solus took one. He drank.
The sweet liquid soothed his dry throat.
"Thanks."
Headmistress McGonagall went up on stage.
The murmur of the crowd died down.
"Good evening," she said, her voice magically amplified. "Welcome to the first Hogwarts Cultural Exchange Ball."
Applause filled the hall.
"Tonight we celebrate something fundamental: magic has no borders. It unites us beyond languages, cultures, or geography."
McGonagall looked toward the High Table where Minister Shacklebolt and several ambassadors were seated.
"Today, students from seven schools are here. Sharing knowledge. Building friendships. Creating the future of the wizarding world."
More applause.
"The presentations will begin shortly. Each one showcasing a unique aspect of magical culture. Enjoy the evening."
McGonagall left the stage.
The first presentation was from Beauxbatons.
Amélie Dubois and three other students performed a traditional French dance accompanied by harp music. It was elegant, fluid, hypnotic.
When they finished, the audience applauded enthusiastically.
The second was from Durmstrang.
A dueling (duelling) demonstration between two sixth-year students. Precise movements. Fast spells. It was more combat than art, but equally impressive.
More applause.
The third was from Ilvermorny.
A group sang traditional Native American songs while projecting magical images of North American landscapes.
The audience was captivated.
Then it was Slytherin's turn.
Marcus Bennett went up on stage first.
He spoke about Caribbean magic. Rituals. Stories. The connection between African magic and Caribbean magic.
It was fascinating.
When he finished, the applause was loud.
Then Cassandra Warrington announced:
"And now, for our final presentation of the evening, Solus Gray will speak about Corvus Slytherin."
Solus took a deep breath.
'It's time.'
He went up on stage.
The light was blinding for a moment.
Then his eyes adjusted.
And he saw the audience.
Hundreds of faces.
Students from all houses. Professors. The Minister. Ambassadors.
And at a table near the front, his father.
Mark was looking at him with a proud smile.
Solus found Stella and Albus in the crowd.
Stella gave him an encouraging gesture.
Albus nodded.
'I can do this.'
Solus stood in the center (centre) of the stage.
And began.
"What would you do if you knew your legacy would be forgotten?"
His voice resonated in the silence.
"If everything you built disappeared in a hundred years. If your name was erased from history books. Was it still worth it?"
He paused.
"A thousand years ago, a man faced that question. His name was Corvus Slytherin. Salazar Slytherin's younger brother. User of Ancient Magic. Headmaster of Hogwarts after his brother left."
Solus walked slowly.
"And his answer to that question changed this castle forever."
He spoke for twenty minutes.
Every word memorized.
Every pause calculated.
He spoke about Corvus's philosophy. His belief that blood didn't matter. His rejection of Salazar's pure-blood vision.
"Corvus wrote in 994: 'My brother sees threats. I see potential. Muggle-born children are no less wizards than us. They just need someone to teach them.'"
He quoted excerpts from the journals. He spoke about the twenty-three apprentices. How they scattered across the world. How some founded schools.
He saw Katya Volkov in the audience. She was leaning forward, listening intently.
"One of those apprentices was a Russian wizard named Dmitri Volkov. He studied with Corvus in 1050. Eventually, he returned to Russia and founded a school that would later become Koldovstoretz."
Katya smiled.
Solus continued.
He spoke about Corvus's death. 1065. Defending Hogwarts alone. Sealing the castle with Ancient Magic.
"Corvus knew he was going to die. The invaders were too many. But he didn't run. He didn't surrender. Because he understood something fundamental: legacy is not what you leave when you die."
He paused.
"It is how you live."
"Corvus lived teaching. Building. Uniting. He didn't care where his students came from. Only that they wanted to learn."
Solus looked directly at the audience.
"And today, while the magical world faces another crisis—while Muggles advance technologically, while the Statute of Secrecy becomes more fragile every year—we need to remember what Corvus taught us."
His voice rose slightly.
"Magic has no borders. It has no blood. It has no nationality. Magic unites. And the only way to survive what is coming is to remember that."
He made a final pause.
"Corvus Slytherin was forgotten by history. But his legacy lives in each of us who chooses to teach instead of hoard. Unite instead of divide. Build instead of destroy."
Solus looked at his father.
"And that legacy is worth it. Even if no one remembers your name."
Absolute silence.
Then, from the High Table, Minister Shacklebolt stood up.
And began to applaud.
The audience exploded.
Applause filled the Great Hall like a wave.
Students stood up. Professors too.
Solus stood on the stage, overwhelmed.
'I did it.'
'I did it.'
He walked down from the stage with shaking legs.
He was immediately surrounded.
Stella hugged him.
"That was amazing!"
Albus patted his back.
"I knew you'd do well!"
Other students approached. Congratulating him. Asking questions about Corvus.
A Ravenclaw girl asked:
"Where can I read more about him?"
A Hufflepuff boy said:
"I never knew Slytherin had a brother."
Katya Volkov approached.
"Gray. That was... exceptional."
"Thank you."
"Especially the part about my ancestor. I didn't know Corvus had trained him." Katya smiled. "My family will be pleased to know."
"I'm glad."
Mark finally reached him.
"Solus."
He turned.
His father had tears in his eyes.
"Dad..."
Mark hugged him.
"I'm so proud of you. That was... I have no words. It was beautiful."
Solus clung to his father.
"Thanks."
"How did you know all that? About Corvus?"
"I researched. I read his journals. Well, the ones that are published."
"It's an incredible story." Mark pulled away. "And the way you connected it to today. To the Exposure Crisis. That was brilliant."
"I just wanted people to remember."
"They will. Trust me."
Headmistress McGonagall approached.
"Mr. Gray. I need to speak with you."
Solus tensed.
'Did I do something wrong?'
But McGonagall was smiling.
"That was extraordinary. The Minister was very impressed. In fact, he wants to meet you."
"The Minister?"
"Yes. If you'll come with me..."
Solus looked at his father.
Mark nodded.
"Go. I'll be here."
McGonagall led him to the High Table.
Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt was an imposing man. Tall. Bald. With a presence that filled the space.
"Mr. Gray," he said with a deep voice. "That was a remarkable presentation."
"Thank you, Minister."
"How old are you?"
"Eleven. First year."
Shacklebolt arched an eyebrow.
"Eleven years old. And you already understand international politics better than half my cabinet."
Solus didn't know what to answer to that.
"The Exposure Crisis," Shacklebolt continued, "is the greatest challenge we face. And you are right. The only solution is unity. Not isolation."
He leaned forward.
"When you graduate, look me up. The Ministry always needs minds like yours."
"I'll keep that in mind, Minister."
Shacklebolt smiled.
"Good. Now go. Enjoy the night. You've earned it."
When Solus returned to Stella and Albus, he was in shock.
"What did the Minister say?" Stella asked excitedly.
"That when I graduate, I should work for him."
"WHAT?!"
"It's... it's crazy."
"It's incredible," Albus corrected. "Solus, you just impressed the Minister for Magic. In your first year."
"It wasn't my intention..."
"But you did it." Stella smiled. "And you know what this means, right?"
"What?"
"That you are officially important."
Hadrian Rosier appeared.
"Gray. I need to talk to you."
Solus followed him to a quieter corner.
"That was perfect," Rosier said. "Exactly what we needed. Slytherin being the center (centre) of attention for the right reasons."
"I'm glad."
"But there is something else." Rosier leaned in. "The Minister spoke to you. Ambassadors are watching you. That makes you visible, Gray. Very visible."
"Is that a problem?"
"It could be. Or it could be an opportunity." Rosier smiled. "It depends on how you use it."
"What do you suggest?"
"That you keep doing what you're doing. Build your reputation. Make connections. And when the time comes..."
He stopped.
"When the time comes what?"
"You'll be in a position to make real changes. Not just talk about them."
Rosier patted his shoulder.
"Welcome to the game, Gray. You just made your first major move."
And he left.
. . . . . . .
Night, 11:00 PM
The ball ended late.
Students returned to their dormitories excited and tired.
Solus walked with Stella and Albus back to the Slytherin Common Room.
"Today was... a lot," Albus said.
"Yeah."
"How do you feel?" Stella asked.
Solus thought about it.
"I feel good," he said finally. "Tired. But good."
When he reached his dormitory, he found a letter on his bed.
He didn't recognize the seal.
He opened it.
Mr. Gray,
Your presentation was remarkable. Corvus Slytherin would be honored (honoured).
There are few people who understand the importance of legacy as you clearly do.
I would like to discuss this further. If you are interested, please reply.
Sincerely,
Nadia Markov Minister of Magic, Russian Federation
Solus dropped the letter.
'She wrote to me directly.'
His heart beat fast.
'What does this mean?'
'An opportunity?'
He put the letter in his trunk.
'I'm not going to reply.'
'Not yet.'
'I need to think.'
'I need to understand what she wants.'
He lay in his bed.
'Today was a success.'
'But it was also the beginning of something.'
'Something bigger.'
'Something dangerous.'
He closed his eyes.
And slept.
With dreams of queens and bishops.
And of a chessboard stretching across the world.