Chapter 7: Engines of Industry and Influence
Chapter 7: Engines of Industry and Influence
1886-1889
The birth of Orion Cassius Travers in the spring of 1886 was an event of significant social importance for the pureblood elite. It was celebrated with the quiet, formal dignity befitting the union of two of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families. [1] Cassiopeia, his wife, performed her duty with admirable grace, presenting him with a healthy, magically potent heir. Corvus played his part to perfection. He was the proud, if reserved, father, accepting the congratulations of his peers and ensuring the proper announcements were made in the Daily Prophet.
Internally, however, the event was processed with the cold detachment of a corporate merger. As the mediwitch fussed over the infant, Archimedes was already running diagnostics.
>BIOLOGICAL_ASSET_ACQUIRED: HEIR_DESIGNATE_ORION_C._TRAVERS.
>STATUS: HEALTHY_MALE_INFANT.
>PRELIMINARY_MAGICAL_OUTPUT_SCAN: 7.8/10. POTENTIAL_FOR_GROWTH_HIGH.
>GENETIC_ANALYSIS: INHERITED_TRAVERS_MAGICAL_APTITUDE_FOR_TRANSFIGURATION. INHERITED_FAWLEY_AFFINITY_FOR_CHARMS.
>CONCLUSION: VIABLE_SUCCESSOR_FOR_PROJECT_ARK. INITIATING_LONG-TERM_EDUCATIONAL_PROTOCOL_OMEGA.
Corvus looked at the child swaddled in expensive silks, not as a son, but as the first and most crucial component of his dynasty's future. The boy's upbringing would be meticulously controlled. Tutors, hand-picked for their expertise and ideological malleability, would be employed. The curriculum, designed by Archimedes, would bypass the rote memorization and biased histories of the standard wizarding education, focusing instead on magical theory, advanced sciences, political strategy, and, most importantly, the core philosophy of the Travers interstellar ambition. [2, 3, 4, 5] This child would not be a product of the decaying wizarding world; he would be the first citizen of a new one.
With the matter of succession secured, Corvus turned his full attention to the next phase of his plan: the total economic domination of wizarding Britain. His company, Travers Apothecary Solutions, had already secured a near-monopoly on high-quality potions, but this was merely the foundation. The wizarding economy was a stagnant pond, ripe for disruption by a predator with knowledge of the ocean.
He established a new parent entity, "Travers Consolidated Holdings," a name that echoed the industrial trusts of the Muggle Gilded Age. Under this umbrella, he began to innovate and consolidate. He applied the principles of vertical integration he knew from his past life. Why buy powdered Fanged Geranium from a supplier when he could own the greenhouses that grew them, the harvesting operations, the grinding facilities, and the distribution network? He used his ever-growing profits to buy out smaller apothecaries, offering them prices they couldn't refuse or, if they did, undercutting them so severely they went out of business within a year.
His most revolutionary venture, however, was in the nascent field of what he privately termed "Magi-tech." He knew that magic and electricity did not mix well, a fact that kept the wizarding world in a state of pre-industrial stasis. [6] But Archimedes analyzed the interference, identifying it not as a fundamental law, but as a form of chaotic energy emission that disrupted delicate electronic components. The solution was not to avoid technology, but to build a better, more robust version of it, powered by magic itself.
His first product was deceptively simple: the "Ever-Warm Cauldron." Using a complex runic array etched into the base, the cauldron could maintain a precise temperature indefinitely, powered by the ambient magic in the air. It made potion-brewing ten times more efficient and virtually foolproof. It was an instant success. He followed this with enchanted communication mirrors that were more reliable and secure than owls, and self-organizing filing cabinets for the bureaucracy-choked Ministry. Each product was a marvel, and each was patented under Travers Consolidated, creating a web of intellectual property that further solidified his market dominance.
This burgeoning economic power was soon translated into political influence. Corvus had no interest in the day-to-day drudgery of a Wizengamot seat, but he understood that power was not just about wealth; it was about controlling the men who made the laws. [7, 8, 9, 10] He became a ghost in the political machine, a master of soft power.
He met with Lord Tiberius Rowle, a man whose family was known for being "Jacks-of-all-trades, masters of none," and whose vote on the Trade Regulations Committee was perpetually for sale. [1] The meeting took place not in the Ministry, but in a private room at a lavish London club.
"Lord Travers," Rowle began, his tone a mixture of deference and greed, "a pleasure to see you. Your new line of self-heating travel mugs is quite the talk of the town."
"I'm glad you approve, Lord Rowle," Corvus replied, his voice smooth and devoid of emotion. He gestured for a house-elf to pour the man a glass of outrageously expensive elven wine. "I trust my 'donation' to the 'Society for the Preservation of Traditional Wizarding Pastimes' was received?"
"Indeed, indeed! Most generous," Rowle blustered. The "Society" was a fiction, a shell organization Corvus had created to funnel bribes. "Your dedication to our culture is admirable."
"I merely wish to see our world prosper," Corvus said. "Which brings me to the matter of the proposed tariff on imported Peruvian Vipertooth hides. A rather protectionist measure, don't you think? It would stifle competition and drive up prices for consumers." And, more importantly, for his own potion ingredients supply chain.
"Well, some of the domestic breeders feel..."
"I feel," Corvus interrupted, his voice dropping slightly, "that a free and open market benefits us all. And I am prepared to make a further, more substantial contribution to your... society... to ensure that prosperity is shared."
Rowle, his eyes gleaming, understood perfectly. The tariff bill was quietly killed in committee the following week. Corvus repeated this process with a dozen other key figures, building a network of indebted politicians who would vote his way without ever realizing they were part of a larger strategy. [7, 8]
His public-facing philanthropy continued to flourish. The Travers Foundation for Magical Advancement was hailed as a triumph of modern benevolence. The orphans taken in were given an education that far surpassed Hogwarts, learning advanced magical theory, sciences, and economics. They were also taught a carefully crafted history, one in which Corvus Travers was not just a benefactor, but a visionary leader preparing them for a glorious future. They were his future colonists, a generation raised with absolute loyalty to him and his cause.
In the winter of 1889, as his industrial and political engines churned silently in the background, Archimedes delivered a priority report.
>GLOBAL_POLITICAL_ANALYSIS_UPDATE.
>GRINDELWALD'S_MOVEMENT_GAINING_SIGNIFICANT_TRACTION_IN_GERMANY_AND_AUSTRIA.
>IDEOLOGY_SHIFT_DETECTED: NO_LONGER_MERELY_ANTI-MUGGLE. NOW_PROMOTING_A_RADICAL_REJECTION_OF_TRADITIONALIST_PUREBLOOD_CULTURE.
>MESSAGE_RESONATING_WITH_DISENFRANCHISED_HALF-BLOODS_AND_MUGGLE-BORNS_ACROSS_CONTINENTAL_EUROPE.
>PREDICTION: INCREASING_POLARIZATION_BETWEEN_GRINDELWALD'S_FOLLOWERS_AND_ESTABLISHED_PUREBLOOD_HIERARCHIES. POTENTIAL_FOR_VIOLENT_CONFLICT_WITHIN_5-10_YEARS_IS_78%.
Corvus looked out from his study window at the snow-covered grounds of Travers Manor. The world was preparing to tear itself apart over ideologies he considered quaint and irrelevant. They would fight over blood purity and tradition on a planet he had already written off as a lost cause. Let them. Their war would provide the perfect cover for his work. While they squabbled and bled, he would continue to build his fortune, consolidate his power, and perfect the science of his escape. They were fighting for control of a sinking ship. He was building an ark to sail for the stars.