24 June, 2026 x •x Closedx • x A Fourth-Year Class
The windows were open, though they were doing very little beyond letting in the distant sounds of the grounds below. A few students entered fanning themselves with loose parchment. One boy in the second row had already loosened his tie.
Professor Malik, who was standing at the blackboard, wearing his favorite scarf, did not turn around.
“If heat prevents you from thinking,” he said, still writing, “you may take out your wands for the cool air charm. If I hear any other incantations, however, it will be immediate detention.”
The room breathed a sigh of relief as the students rummaged around their bags or pockets to grab their wands, mutters of "Aer Frigidus" breaking out across the room.
On the board, in Arun's precise handwriting, was the title of the lesson:
THE PHRASE THAT NEARLY BECAME WAR
He set the chalk down and turned to face them.
“We are continuing our study on Ancient Rome's wizarding history, and I would like to focus in on a particular event where the importance of language is highlighted.”
He waved his wand, and a large map unfurled itself beside the blackboard. “Constantinople," the professor pointed to the map, "was the seat of government of the wizarding Ancient Roman Empire. Heliopolis," he pointed again, "was a major Roman magical center. Now, Helipolis had a slight issue in their region, which was the White Ember Court."
A Mercator girl raised her hand.
“Yes, Miss Park?”
“Is The White Ember Court a Veela court?”
“Exactly, five points to Mercator. As you learned last year from Professor Forrest, many Veela gathered themselves together in courts to protect and govern themselves. The White Ember Court were, and still are, a people with their own history, offices, customs, and law."
“So was Rome trying to conquer them, then?” A Dranaga boy blurted out, then quickly realized his mistake of not raising his hand, shrinking back and hoping to be let off with a warning.
Lucky boy, he was, since a warning glance was all he got. “Not quite, no, at least not in the military sense. As we've learned in past lessons, both the Muggle and Wizarding Roman Empire cared greatly for order, documentation, and citizenship. The Roman position was this: if a community was going to trade, travel, hold land, and maintain routes through their imperial territory, then that community required a legal name and legal status within the Roman system. Sounds fairly reasonable to us, yes?"
A few students nodded in response.
"So, the two began negotiations, which were conducted through interpreters. Roman officials used Roman legal language. Veela diplomats communicated through refrains. Miss Park, do you remember what Veela Refrains are?”
The Mercator girl grinned, happy to show off her knowledge once more. "Instead of holding their history or legal documents in written form like scrolls or books, Veela courts have refrain-keepers. These are individuals who memorize refrains, which are the words of history or legal decisions, but are communicated through song or rhythmic, spoken language."
"Excellent memory, Miss Park. Now, at the time, the wizarding world knew nearly nothing of Veela refrains. So, while their interpretor may have been able to communicate the words, the intentions and cultural significance were not translated."
Professor Malik turned to the blackboard, writing in large letters:
Name me not.
"Through our modern understanding of Veela refrains, we know that this is what the Veela Court meant to communicate to the Roman officials. However, at the time, the interpreters were translating it 3 different ways."
He wrote the three interpretations on the board.
Let me keep my name.
You do not get to name me.
You have no claim over me.
“Same phrase. Three meanings.” He tapped the first, “A plea.” The second, “Resistance.” The third, “A challenge to authority.”
He stepped away from the board. “An interpreter may technically preserve the sentence while destroying what the speaker meant. That was the problem facing both Rome and the White Ember Court.”
Several students scribbled notes.
“As tensions rose, a Roman interpreter named Aelius Varro and a Veela refrain-keeper named Nerise argued that neither side could trust the other's system to preserve meaning without seeing each other face to face. “Aelius Varro was a Roman wizarding interpreter assigned to the Heliopolis negotiations. Nerise was a refrain-keeper of the White Ember Court. Popular versions of the story make them lovers, martyrs, tragic geniuses, or whatever else helps sell books near tourist attractions.”
"For our purposes, they are interpreters and officials. Aelius saw that Roman treaty language was not being understood as neutral. Nerise saw that the court’s refrains were not being understood as official communication, but as an offence. One side heard refusal of a lawful order. The other simply did not want to give up their heritage."
“Tensions rose high enough that retaliatory sanctions were drafted in Constantinople, and the White Ember Court began preparing a formal declaration of war. Thus, Aelius and Nerise proposed a solution, the Janus Gate."
The professor's eyes looked around the classroom, noticing a disappointing amount of stationary quills. "I would suggest writing that down." Immediately, the sound of quills on parchment filled the room as Aurun made his way toward the map once more.
“It is believed that Aelius was a wielder of a form of ancient magic lost to time, as we still don't know what sort of magic it uses to operate. While modern scholars still debate exactly how the Janus Gate was constructed, we do know what its purpose was."
Professor Malik tapped the space between Constantinople and Heliopolis on the map.
“The Janus Gate functions as a sort of portal, allowing the two sides to meet without traveling.” He turned back to the class. “However, it is not just a doorway between these two groups. When standing in the vicinity of the gate, one hears everything spoken in their own native language. With that, and more knowledge of the other side's legal customs, the two sides were able to negotiate quickly and peacefully. The result was the Threshold Accord, an agreement that recognized the White Ember Court's right to govern itself while still allowing cooperation with the Empire.”
Arun folded his hands behind his back as he walked toward his desk. "It still stands today, and opens once every generation, or twenty years, as a sign of the continuing peace between wizardkind and the White Ember Court. Now, for your homework, twelve inches-” A collective groan interrupted him. “Thirteen inches if that continues.” The groaning stopped. "On the importance of interpreting not just words, but intentions and customs, across history. Include Heliopolis, Constantinople, the White Ember Court, the Janus Gate, and the First Threshold Accord. That will be all.”
Within minutes, the room was empty save for the professor. Aurun glanced at the words still written on the board.
Name me not.
After a moment, he erased them and began preparing for his next lesson.