Hogwarts, Map Chamber, October 25, 2017, 6:00 AM
In the weeks before Moscow, Solus intensified his training. Not just Intent. But everything.
History. Politics. Languages. Protocol.
If he was gonna be in a room with "promising young wizards" from all over the world, he needed to be prepared.
That morning, he was with Stella and Albus in the Chamber, practicing (practising) distance projection.
"Focus," Solus said. "Don't just feel the stone. Feel its history."
He had placed three stones on the floor. Not ordinary stones. Stones from different places in the castle. Each with its own magical signature.
"This one," he pointed to the first, "is from the Astronomy Tower. It has been exposed to stellar magic for centuries."
"This one," he pointed to the second, "is from the dungeons. Ancient defensive magic."
"And this one," he pointed to the third, "is from the Transfiguration Classroom. Transmutative magic."
Stella closed her eyes first.
"I can feel... differences. The first one is like... cold."
"Good. And the second?"
"Heavy. As if it were buried."
"Exactly. Albus?"
Albus frowned, concentrating.
"The third one is... restless. As if it wanted to be something else."
Solus smiled.
"Perfect. You are both progressing faster than I expected."
After the training, Stella asked:
"Why are you pushing so hard lately?"
"Because in Moscow, I'm gonna be surrounded by people who have studied magic their whole lives. I need to be at their level."
"You're already at their level," Albus said. "Probably above."
"Maybe. But I can't be arrogant." Solus put the stones away. "The Minister invited me for a reason. And I need to understand what that reason is before it's too late."
"Do you think it's a trap?" Stella asked.
"Not a trap" Solus looked at the map on the table. "She wants to see if I'm useful. Or dangerous. Or both."
"And what are you?"
Solus smiled humorlessly.
"I'm still deciding."
. . . . . . .
Professor Annan's Office, 1:00 PM
Solus had asked to meet with Annan to discuss the trip.
"Moscow," Annan said, leaning back in his chair. "Interesting choice by Markov."
"Why interesting?"
"Because Moscow is her territory. Her power. Inviting you there instead of neutral ground says something."
"What does it say?"
"That she wants you to see what she has built. That she wants you to understand her vision." Annan took a sip of tea. "Markov isn't subtle when she wants to impress."
"Do you know her?"
"I've met her. Years ago. At an ICW conference." Annan paused. "She is brilliant and pragmatic. And absolutely convinced she is right."
"About what?"
"About the wizarding world dying. And that only strong leadership can save it."
Solus processed that.
"Do you agree with her?"
Annan thought about it.
"I agree that the wizarding world faces a crisis. The Exposure Crisis is real. But..." He paused. "I don't agree with how she wants to solve it."
"How does she want to solve it?"
"Control... order... authoritarian structure." Annan looked at him. "Markov believes the only way to survive is for wizards to take control. Before Muggles do."
Silence.
"What if she's right?" Solus asked.
"Then the wizarding world becomes something we wouldn't recognize. Something our ancestors would have hated."
Annan leaned forward.
"Gray, when you go to Moscow, keep this in mind: Markov is going to seduce you with logic, with pragmatism. With her vision. And a lot of what she says is going to make sense."
"Then what do I do?"
"Listen. Learn. But don't commit." Annan smiled faintly. "And remember that pragmatism without humanity is just tyranny with better marketing."
. . . . .
Great Hall, November 1, 2017, 12:00 PM
On the day of Markov's deadline, an official owl arrived at the Great Hall.
Not from Markov.
From the British Ministry of Magic.
The envelope had the Minister's seal: a golden rampant lion.
Shacklebolt.
Solus opened it.
[Mr. Gray,
I was informed of your upcoming trip to Moscow for the Symposium for Promising Young Wizards.
I would like to meet with you before your departure to discuss some matters.
Please report to my office at the Ministry on November 15th at 2:00 PM.
Headmistress McGonagall has approved your absence from classes that day.
Sincerely,
Kingsley Shacklebolt Minister for Magic]
"The Minister wants to see you," Stella murmured, reading over his shoulder.
"Yes."
"What for?"
"Probably to 'brief' me. Make sure I don't say anything that embarrasses Britain."
"Or to use you as a spy?" Albus suggested nervously.
Solus looked at him.
'I hadn't thought of that.'
'But Albus is right.'
'Shacklebolt might want me to observe. To report.'
'To be his eyes in Moscow.'
"Maybe," Solus admitted.
. . .
Solus spent the next few weeks researching.
Not just about Corvus.
But about Russia. Markov. The Russian Ministry. International magical politics.
He found a book: Modern Magical Governments: A Comparison.
The chapter on Russia was fascinating.
"The Russian Magical Federation is one of the most powerful ministries in the world. Under the leadership of Nadia Markov (elected in 2011), the ministry has consolidated significant power.
Markov implemented reforms that centralized authority, improved efficiency, but also reduced individual freedoms.
Critics call her authoritarian. Defenders call her pragmatic.
What no one disputes is her effectiveness. Under her leadership, Russia has expanded its influence in Eastern Europe, Central Asia, South America, and partially in China."
Solus closed the book slowly.
'Expanding influence.'
'Centralizing reforms.'
'Reducing freedoms.'
'She is building an empire. Not territorial. But political.'
'And now she wants me.'
'Why?'
More research revealed something even more interesting.
A Daily Prophet International article from six months ago:
"Minister Markov Proposes New International Treaty
Russian Minister for Magic, Nadia Markov, yesterday proposed a new framework for the ICW called 'Coordinated Response Protocol.'
The protocol would allow member ministries to share intelligence, coordinate responses to global threats, and, controversially, intervene in the internal affairs of other countries if the Statute of Secrecy is deemed to be in danger.
The proposal was rejected by majority vote, with Britain, France, and the United States voting against.
Markov stated: 'The wizarding world faces threats no country can solve alone. Either we unite under strong leadership, or we fall divided'"
Solus reread that three times.
'Intervene in internal affairs of other countries.'
'That is...'
'Imperialism. Disguised as cooperation.'
'And Shacklebolt voted against it.'
'Which means Markov sees Britain as an obstacle.'
'And now she is inviting an outstanding British student.'
'It's not about me.'
'It's about sending a message to Shacklebolt.'
"Gray."
Solus looked up.
Katya Volkov was standing next to his table.
"Volkov."
"I heard you're gonna Moscow."
"News travels fast."
"It always does." Katya sat down. "I need to warn you about something."
"About what?"
"About Markov. And about my family."
Solus waited.
"My family, the Volkovs, are descendants of Dmitri Volkov, Corvus's apprentice. That gives us certain... status in Russia." Katya paused. "My aunt, Professor Volkov, left Russia ten years ago because she disagreed with the direction Markov was taking."
"What direction?"
"Control. Order. Conformity." Katya looked at him directly. "Markov believes the wizarding world needs to unify under a single leadership. Hers."
"And your family?"
"Divided. Some support Markov. Others don't." Katya paused. "If you go to Moscow, you might meet my cousin, Dimitri. He's eighteen. He's one of Markov's 'promising young people'."
"And?"
"And he is loyal to her. Completely. If you tell him anything about Corvus, about what you found, he will tell Markov."
Solus nodded slowly.
"Thanks for the warning."
"It's not a warning. It's information." Katya stood up. "Use your judgment. But remember: in Moscow, everyone is playing a game. Even the ones who seem friendly."
And she left.
. . . . . . .
Ministry of Magic, Minister's Office, November 15, 2017, 2:00 PM
Solus arrived at the Ministry with his father.
Mark was nervous. It was his first time at the British Ministry.
"It's... impressive," he murmured, looking at the Atrium with its golden fountain.
"Yes."
An assistant guided them to the Minister's office.
It was large. Elegant. With windows overlooking Muggle London.
Kingsley Shacklebolt was standing by his desk, reading a document.
"Mr. Gray. Mr. Gray senior. Come in."
They sat down.
Shacklebolt sat opposite them.
"Thank you for coming. I know it's a long trip from Hogwarts."
"No problem, Minister," Solus said.
Shacklebolt smiled faintly.
"Straight to the point: you are going to Moscow. To an event organized by Nadia Markov. Do you know why she invited you?"
"I think my presentation impressed her."
"Maybe. But Markov doesn't do anything without a political agenda." Shacklebolt leaned forward. "I want to be clear: I am not going to ask you to spy. You are not an Auror. You are an eleven-year-old student."
"Thank you, Minister."
"But," Shacklebolt continued, "I am going to ask you to observe. And to tell me your impressions when you return."
"Impressions about what?"
"About Markov. About the other young people at the symposium. About the general atmosphere." Shacklebolt paused. "Markov is building a network. Recruiting young and talented people. I want to understand what she is building."
Mark intervened:
"Is my son in danger?"
"Not physically. Markov isn't stupid. She won't harm a British student at her own event." Shacklebolt looked at Mark. "But politically... yes. Your son is now visible. And that brings risks."
"What kind of risks?"
"Being used. Manipulated. Recruited." Shacklebolt looked at Solus. "Markov is going to try to seduce you with her vision. With her logic. She is going to make you feel important. Special."
"And what should I do?"
"Listen. Learn. But keep your own judgment." Shacklebolt smiled. "And remember you are British. Represent your country well."
After the meeting, Mark and Solus walked through the Atrium.
"That was... intense," Mark said.
"Yes."
"Do you still want to go?"
Solus thought about it.
'Do I want to go?'
'No.'
'But do I need to go?'
'Yes.'
"Yes. I need to understand what is happening."
Mark nodded.
"Then we'll go together. And you'll be careful."
"I will."