The sealed door admitted three judges in single file. Two men, one woman. The central elder stepped forward with a slight bow to Yelena.
"Master Morozova. I am Master Radomir Vacek, one of the elder council. The Conclave thanks you for taking a pupil and bringing him to us so soon. It has not been a year since you notified us." He turned to Corvus. "Master Black. Youngest master of Potions and Charms. A dual mastery at the age of…"
"Seventeen, Elder Vacek," Corvus answered evenly.
Vacek inclined his head and moved to the raised dais. The other two took their seats at his flanks. Corvus set three copies of a single contract on the dais.
Vacek read the contract, one brow lifting. "We are under strict oaths here, Master Black. Your distrust wounds me."
"It is not meant to, Elder Vacek," Corvus said. "The implications of what I've brought to your judgment require so. Consider it a precaution, please. You will understand after the demonstration."
Vacek signed. The other two followed suit with clear dissatisfaction on their faces. Ink sank and sealed. Corvus passed each of them a set of parchments. The description of procedure, spell forms, and details of each one, safety notes, and expected safe limits. Pages rustled. Silence stretched.
Vacek looked up first. "Impossible. This sits on the edge of transfiguration and Soul Magic." He turned to Yelena. "Did you witness this yourself, Master Morozova?"
"I did. Hence, I consider my pupil a master of Transfiguration already, regardless of the outcome of today's demonstration, Elder Vacek," Yelena said, calm and cold.
Vacek's mouth thinned; he was not expecting such a veiled dismissal. He set the parchment down. "Very well. Your materials?"
Corvus gestured to the side table. "A bound Troll. I left the secondary subject at your discretion. What will it be, Elder Vacek? A plant or a beast."
After a quiet exchange on the dais. Vacek nodded. "Beast, we have a male Erumpent at the ready. Demonstrate on it and harvest the horn and horn fluid."
"Why not?" Corvus smiled.
The sealed room allowed controlled communication only. Consent of every Judge was required for even the shortest missive to leave the room. After the request was sent, three clerks brought the stunned Erumpent. A massive creature with its hide gleaming, breath slow and even. After the room was sealed, Corvus checked the wards to be sure of it by himself again. He verified the stasis field and sedation. He turned and addressed the judges without flourish.
"Step one: reveal essence. Veritas Essentia." He drew a small clockwise circle, then pricked forward with the tip. A turquoise orb leapt from his wand and sank into the Erumpent. An aura flared around the beast; many patterns were alive with motion. They flowed within the aura like living script: tight skeins of tiny runic strokes that shifted and nested, each cluster forming a distinct trait.
Corvus pointed. "Horn matrix is here. Growth, density, and volatility bind. This is a pattern of a very faint and small Regeneration; it is weak but present as a base." He shifted his wand to the Troll. Dismissed the transfiguration and cast Veritas Essentia. "The reference subject is known for its regeneration. The Pattern of the Troll is much larger and more lively compared to Erumpent's, as it can be seen here." He motioned to a Pattern similar in colour and shape.
"Step two: Essentia Transitoria." The Erumpent's aura slowed, as if holding its breath.
"Step three: modification of the trait and pattern. Essentia Scriptura." A series of short, precise wand movements began. After a while, Corvus increased the size of the regeneration pattern within the Erumpent's Aura by at least twentyfold. The runic filaments brightened noticeably. He waited for the aura to settle.
"First cycle." Corvus set a stasis cradle under the horn and warded the field. "Diffindo Minutia." A clean and delicate version of the severing charm parted the horn at the safe line. He guided it into the cradle and locked it. A second charm drew horn fluid in a thin thread into buffered vials, stoppered in stasis, labelled, and set aside. The expanded pattern lit and the horn bud pushed, grew, and thickened with visible speed.
"Cycle two." Cut, draw, and seal the vial. The judges watched the horn grow again. Vacek leaned forward despite himself. It was hard to believe what he was seeing. This will change the Wizarding World. He understood the reason for the contract. The female judge slid one of the vials closer and checked the stabilising shell, her amazement evident.
Corvus kept his rhythm tight. Without any banter or wasted motion, he worked with precision. Every third cycle, he checked and reinforced Essentia Transitoria with a light touch to hold the field. Each time the horn returned, the aura's regeneration pattern flickered a little weaker, then held. He called the counts aloud without looking up. "Seven. Nine. Eleven."
At the thirteenth regrowth, the pattern has already turned to its original weak and small form. Micro runes slipped out of alignment at the edge of the spiral Aura. Corvus stopped at once.
"The Erumpent has reached its limit." He let the horn finish shaping while watching the pattern shimmering faintly; his additions were fading rune by rune. He set the blade aside. Then he lifted his wand. "Finite Incantatem." The aura relaxed. The state of Transition ended. The Erumpent slept on, unharmed beyond fatigue.
Corvus arrayed the results on the dais: thirteen full horns under stasis, thirteen racks of vials, each vial ringed with a non reactive cushion and a time stamp. He spoke in the same steady tone.
"Verification. Sample horn two and horn twelve for lattice integrity. Sample early and late vials for volatility and purity. You may test for conjuration residue, duplication artefacts, or transfiguration drift. You will find none. This is harvested material, organic and from the original beast."
Vacek did not answer at once. He set a gloved finger on a horn and felt the texture. He examined a vial at eye level, the thick amber liquid rolling within the stasis shell without touching the glass. The other judges compared notes in low voices.
Yelena stood with her hands behind her back, impassive. Corvus waited, wand low, the aura around the Erumpent dimming to its natural state.
Vacek cleared his throat. "Proceed to written cross checks," he said to his colleagues. He turned his gaze to Corvus. "We will subject these to our standard tests, here and now. If the results match what I have just witnessed, we will address the matter of your mastery. I would like to add, however, Master Corvus. What you have demonstrated is more of Soul Magic than it is Transfiguration. Soul Magic, despite what the ICW declares or forces the Ministries to confirm, is not lost. It is an honour to witness the famous art with my own eyes."
Corvus inclined his head. "Of course, Elder Vacek."
--
Elder Vacek and the other two judges moved from table to dais and back again, methodical and silent. They weighed each horn, traced integrity lines with Revealing Charms, and touched the cut faces with thin threads of magic to test resonance. The vials came next. Stoppers off, a gloved dip of a glass rod, then a neutraliser to confirm the fluid had not been transfigured from something mundane. With every set finished, they leaned close, conferred in clipped whispers, and reached for the next.
An hour passed. The last set's examination finished. Elder Vacek descended from the dais, crossed the sealed room, and offered his hand. Corvus met it.
"Master Black, allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your mastery of Transfiguration." Vacek placed a rolled parchment in Corvus's palm. The wax bore the sigil of the Conclave. The other judges followed, each grip firm, each nod precise.
Vacek's mouth curved. "Three masteries at seventeen. You are clearly blessed by Mother Magic, Master Corvus." The warmth faded from his eyes a breath later. "Now the serious part. By our oaths, and by the contract you made us sign, the details of this demonstration and its spells will remain sealed under blood and intent wards. I must still ask. Will you share this miracle with the wizarding world? I will serve the peace of nations for the foreseeable future."
Corvus inclined his head. "I share your goal, Elder Vacek. Peace above all. Which is why I live by an older rule." He spoke in clear Latin. "Si vis pacem, para bellum."
Vacek let out a quiet breath and translated with a sad smile on his old face. "If you want peace, prepare for war." He looked to the other judges. Both dipped their chins in agreement, their faces still set in the neutral calm of officials who had just watched a line in their craft shift.
Yelena Morozova stepped forward only then, hands loose at her sides. "Congratulations, Master Black," she said. "It is an honour to be named and recorded in history as your teacher." A smile bloomed on her cold eyes and face, a rare sight.
Vacek nodded while listening to Master Morozova. He turned to Corvus and gestured to the harvested sets. "We need two sets for our archive." Corvus placed two horns and two sealed vials on the slate. Vacek murmured a binding to mark them as the Conclave's reference set, then turned back.
"Your contract stands, Master Black. The sealed copy will sit under Conclave wards and an intent and blood wards keyed to three of us," he pointed to the Judges at his left and right. His gaze hardened by a measure. "My personal hope is simple. When the time comes to spread this, you will find us first."
Corvus chose to simply smile at the ridiculous wish.
That earned the faintest huff of dry amusement from Vacek. "Fair enough."
They left the sealed room after Corvs took the rest of the Horns and vials, transfiguring the troll and activating the cleansing runes of the room to clear any residual magic behind him.
Outside the sealed chamber, a clerk waited to prepare the room again. The corridor beyond breathed magic out of old stone. Corvus and Yelena walked in companionable quiet until the foyer. There she stopped.
"I will be returning to Hogwarts," she said. "I heard you will be away for a while. Do be careful, Master Black."
"I will, Master Morozova."
She stepped into the public floo and was gone in green flame after a while.
Corvus chose the streets to explore. Magical Prague at night was direct and honest in its power. Lanterns floated. Shop windows carried moving sigils that folded and unfolded like patient hands. A brass clock on a tower struck the hour and reset itself with a click of tiny constellation plates. Witches and Wizards in winter cloaks roamed the streets and shops. This was what the wizarding settlements would evolve to, he murmured to himself.
By midnight, he found a hotel to spend the night. As he disrobed and had a quick shower. When he threw himself on the bed, he called for his status panel to see what he had gained over the last few months.
[Status]
Name: Corvus Black
Age: 17
Race: Wizard, Pureblood
Titles: Heir to House Black, Lord of House Rosier
Masteries: Potions, Charms, Transfiguration
Physical: B+
Magical: S+
Talents
Comprehension Talent (Unique)
Replication Talent (Unique)
Parseltongue
Metamorphmagus
Fire Travel
Healing Tears
Dark Magic Resistance
Fire Rebirth
Rapid Regeneration
Extreme Speed
Extreme Agility
Memory Mapping
Phase
Flight
Animagi Forms
Shadow Raven: Blood Sight, Shadow Step
White Tiger
Basilisk: Magical Resistance, Venom secretion,
Skills
Colour scale: White, Green, Blue, Orange, Purple, Silver, Gold
Occlumency - Gold
Legilimency - Gold
Transfiguration - Gold
Charms - Gold
Potions - Gold
Enchanting - Gold
Dark Arts - Gold
Duelling - Gold
Rituals - Gold
Herbology - Gold
Magical Theory - Gold
Runes / Ancient Runes - Gold
Elemental Magic - Gold
Temporal Magic - Silver
Alchemy - Silver
Healing - Silver
Arithmancy - Silver
Astronomy - Silver
Soul Magic - Purple
Mathematics - Blue
Physics - Blue
Chemistry - Blue
Biology - Green
Biochemistry - Green
He had come a long way. What he needed now, based on the status panel, was to start to visit the best minds of the Muggle side.
After having a hearty breakfast, he crossed the short distance and apparated to the Ministry of Magic in Prague, showed his pass at the warded arch, and took the broad stairs down to the international travel hall. The chamber hummed with the dense, layered protections of a state portkey station. A clerk behind a desk lifted a ledger.
"Destination?"
"Moscow, Ministry of Magical Russia."
"Purpose of travel?"
"I heard the weather is amazing, especially this time of the year, hence I'm going as a tourist."
The clerk raised his head and blinked once, twice. 'Wizardkin was a strange folk,' he thought, and consulted an index stone, nodded once, and slid a small iron token across the counter. "One direction. Five minute window. Keep your grip until the pull fades."
He stepped into the marked circle. He checked his cuffs, settled his breathing, and closed gloved fingers around the token. Magic tightened in the air and pressed on his bones. The world tipped. The hook took hold.
Corvus vanished from the Ministry of Prague.