Arrival Moscow International Airport, December 20, 2017, 3:00 PM (Local Time)
The flight from London had lasted four hours.
Solus and Mark had traveled (travelled) in first class. Courtesy of the Russian Ministry.
'Everything is paid for. Everything is arranged. Everything is controlled.'
'That is the message Markov is sending.'
"I have you. You are in my world now."
When they left the Muggle airport, a man was waiting for them.
Tall. Thirty-something years old. Short blonde hair. Dark robes with the Russian crest embroidered in gold.
"Mr. Gray? Mr. Gray senior?"
"Yes," Mark replied nervously.
"I am Dimitri Volkov. Assistant to the Russian Ministry." He extended his hand. "Welcome to Moscow."
Dimitri Volkov. Katya's cousin.
Solus shook his hand.
"Thank you for receiving us."
"It is an honor (honour). Minister Markov is eager to meet you." Dimitri smiled. It was a professional smile. "Please, follow me. I will take you to the Magical District."
They walked toward the parking lot (car park).
But instead of a car, there was a carriage.
Not a Muggle carriage.
A magical carriage.
Black. Elegant. Pulled by two creatures Solus recognized from his memories of Corvus.
Alkonost. Birds with the head of a woman. Native to Russia. Legendary even in Corvus's time.
"Impressive, right?" Dimitri said, noticing Solus's gaze. "The Alkonost only serve the Ministry. They are status symbols."
They got into the carriage. And began to move.
. . . . . . . . . . .
Moscow Magical District, 3:30 PM
The Magical District was hidden in the heart of Moscow. Not like Diagon Alley, hidden behind a pub. But like a complete layer over the Muggle city. Concealment magic on a massive scale.
Impressive.
When the carriage crossed the barrier, Solus felt the change.
The air became denser. More charged with magic.
And the city... The city was breathtaking.
Buildings of traditional Russian architecture mixed with magic. Golden domes that shone with enchantments. Cobbled streets where wizards walked in robes that combined traditional with modern.
'It's not like London. London hides its magic. Moscow exhibits it.'
"Welcome to Krasny Gorod," Dimitri said. "The Red City. The heart of the Russian wizarding world."
Mark stared open-mouthed.
"It's... incredible."
"Under Minister Markov's leadership, we have modernized. Integrated magic with infrastructure. Improved quality of life."
Propaganda. But also truth. Because the city works. Clean. Orderly.
The carriage stopped in front of an imposing building.
Not the Ministry.
A hotel.
[ГОСТИНИЦА ЧАРОДЕЙ] (Sorcerer's Hotel)
"This will be your accommodation during the symposium," Dimitri explained. "The Minister reserved the executive suite for you."
They entered.
The lobby was luxurious. Marble floors. Crystal chandeliers that floated. Staff moving with military efficiency.
'Everything is designed to impress.'
'And it's working.'
Even Solus, with two thousand years of memories, had to admit it:
'Markov knows how to show power.'
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Executive Suite, 4:00 PM
The suite was huge.
Two bedrooms. Living room. Panoramic view of the Red City. Mark dropped onto a sofa.
"This is... I don't even know what to say."
"It's impressive," Solus admitted.
"Do you think she's listening?" Mark lowered his voice.
Solus looked around.
'Listening charms? Probably'.
"Let's assume so," Solus said in a low voice. "Careful what we say."
Mark nodded. A note was on the coffee table.
Solus opened it.
[Mr. Gray,
I hope your journey was comfortable.
Tonight, welcome dinner at 7:00 PM in the Great Hall of the Ministry. Formal attire.
Tomorrow, the symposium begins at 9:00 AM.
I am eager to meet you.
Sincerely,
Minister Nadia Markov]
Solus put the note down.
Three hours until dinner.
Three hours until meeting the Queen.
"I'm gonna rest a bit," Mark said. "That flight exhausted me."
"Okay."
Mark went into his room.
Solus stayed in the living room.
He took out the stone Stella had given him. He held it in his hand. He closed his eyes.
'Feel.' And there it was.
Faint. Distant. But there.
Hogwarts.
The castle's heartbeat.
Like a lighthouse far away.
Solus smiled.
'I'm not alone.'
. . . . . . .
Russian Ministry, Great Hall, 7:00 PM
The Great Hall was exactly what Solus expected.
Designed to show power.
High ceilings with magical frescoes showing Russia's history. Chandeliers burning with blue fire. Long tables where dozens of people were already seated.
Promising young wizards from all over the world.
All here to be evaluated by Markov. Dimitri guided them to their seats.
"Mr. Gray, you are at the head table. Next to the Minister."
'Of course. She wants me close. Where she can watch me.'
Mark was taken to a side table. With other parents and chaperones.
Solus walked toward the head table.
And then he saw her.
Nadia Markov was standing by her seat.
She wasn't what Solus expected.
She wasn't old. Maybe forty years old. Black hair pulled back in an elegant bun. Angular face. Dark eyes that evaluated everything.
She wore traditional Russian robes. Red and gold. But with a modern cut.
'She is beautiful. But not in a soft way. She is beautiful like a sword is beautiful.'
"Mr. Gray," she said when he approached. Her English was perfect. Accentless. "We finally meet."
She extended her hand.
Solus shook it.
Her grip is firm.,. Measuring my reaction.
"Minister Markov. It is an honor (honour)."
"The honor (honour) is mine. Your presentation at Hogwarts was remarkable." Markov pointed to the seat on her right. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss."
The head table included:
Nadia Markov (center/centre)
Solus (Markov's right)
Dimitri Volkov (Markov's left)
An older man with a gray (grey) beard and academic robes (Koldovstoretz professor)
A middle-aged woman with a stern expression (Ambassador of China)
And at the end of the table, someone who made Solus tense.
A boy his age.
Eleven years old. Messy black hair. Bright green eyes.
The boy looked directly at him. And smiled.
It wasn't a friendly smile.
Traditional Russian dishes served with magic. Borscht. Pelmeni. Blini.
Markov didn't waste time.
"Mr. Gray, tell me. How did you discover the story of Corvus Slytherin?"
Solus had prepared this answer.
"Research. Corvus's published journals are limited, but they mention his apprentices. I followed those threads."
"And did you find anything beyond public records?"
'Here it is.'
'The real question.'
"Did you find the Chamber?"
"I found connections," Solus said carefully. "Patterns in the way Corvus taught. Philosophies that aren't well documented."
"Interesting."
Markov took a sip of wine. "And why do you care so much? Corvus died a thousand years ago."
"Because his legacy is relevant today. He taught us that magic has no borders. That knowledge should be shared."
Markov smiled.
"Shared. Interesting choice of word." She leaned forward. "Tell me, Mr. Gray, do you think the wizarding world should share its existence with Muggles?"
Trap.
If I say yes, I'm naive.
If I say no, I'm elitist.
"I think the wizarding world needs to decide its future before Muggles decide it for us."
Markov arched an eyebrow.
"Diplomatic. For an eleven-year-old."
"I've read a lot."
"Evidently."
Markov leaned back. "Do you know why I invited you here, Mr. Gray?"
"To evaluate if I am useful."
Markov laughed.
It was a genuine laugh.
"Refreshing. Most young people here pretend not to understand the game." She looked around the hall. "But you understand it. Don't you?"
"I understand that nothing is free. And that this invitation comes with expectations."
"Exactly."
Markov leaned forward again. "So let's be honest. I invited you because you are brilliant. Because you understand legacy. And because I think you could be useful in what I am building."
"What are you building?"
"A future. Where the wizarding world doesn't just survive. But prospers." Markov paused. "But for that, we need leaders. Young. Visionary. Willing to do what is necessary."
"What is necessary?"
"Difficult decisions. Pragmatic ones. Without the weight of generational guilt."
'There it is.'
'Her philosophy in a sentence.'
"Pragmatism without guilt."
'Or as Annan said: "Tyranny with better marketing."'
"Sounds ambitious," Solus said neutrally.
"It is. That is why I need allies." Markov looked directly at him. "Would you be one, Mr. Gray?"
Silence.
Everyone at the table was listening.
Dimitri. The professor. The ambassador.
And the boy.
All waiting for my answer.
"I am a first-year student," Solus finally said. "I am still learning who I am. What I believe. What I wanna build."
"Wise."
"But," Solus continued, "I also know the world is changing. And that we need to be prepared."
Markov smiled.
"Then at least you are open to conversation."
"I am always open to learning."
"Perfect."
Markov raised her glass. "To those who are willing to learn. And to build."
Everyone at the table raised their glasses.
"To building," they repeated.
Solus raised his glass too.
But as he drank, he felt Nikolái's eyes on him.
. . . . . . .
Executive Suite, 10:00 PM
When they returned to the hotel, Mark was exhausted.
"That was... a lot of politics for one dinner."
"Yeah."
"What did you think of Markov?"
Solus thought about it. "She is exactly what I expected. Brilliant... and dangerous."
"And the boy? The one with the green eyes?"
Too complicated to explain now.
Mark yawned.
"I'm gonna sleep. Tomorrow the symposium starts."
"Goodnight, Dad."
"Goodnight, son."
When Mark went to his room, Solus sat by the window.
He looked at the Red City.
Shining under the night.
'Markov built this... And she wants to build more... She wants to build an empire.'
He took out Stella's stone.
He held it.
'Hogwarts is thousands of miles away. But I can still feel it. I still have a home.' He closed his eyes. And for the first time in days, he felt something akin to peace.
Tomorrow the real game begins.
But for now...
For now, I just breathe.