Chapter One: Fire at Calvin Manor
Author note: This story is set after the Second Wizarding War and does not include any Harry Potter characters. Likewise, while I borrow concepts from Narnia and Merlin, no characters from these series appear. This story is set before "Scorpio" (Flashpoint Pilot).
Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own Flashpoint, Harry Potter, Narnia, or Merlin.
Entire work edited as of August 23rd, 2018.
Additionally, when this story was first posted, I had a very brief prologue followed by a much larger first chapter. At the time, I was trying to mimic Flashpoint's practice of a brief intro and a rewind to the 'beginning', but I likely did myself a severe disservice, because that tiny prologue was a very poor introduction to my series and an even poorer 'hook' to keep readers interested. Frankly, I'm lucky anyone gave my story a shot with an introduction like that. Many of my other stories have the same shortcoming, as I didn't wise up until I started posting "Bad Cop, Good Cop". I will gradually update all of my 'prologue' stories and attempt to only use prologues when necessary.
So, for those who like cruising the reviews, the reviews no longer perfectly correspond to the chapters they were originally posted on. Subtract one to get the right chapter number.
Lastly, in addition to compressing the prologue and first chapter, I have done quite a bit of editing on the whole story, so even if you've read it before, please give a read and see what you think of the changes.
The Auror knocked at the apartment door, his expression bored. His two companions exchanged wide-eyed looks and stared around the hallway, examining everything: from the worn carpet to the chipped and scratched hand railings to the dusty light fixtures above. They huddled closer to the Auror, drawing little more than an annoyed look from the man. The Auror lifted his fist and knocked again, grumbling about Muggles under his breath.
The door cracked open, revealing a tired, stocky figure who gave every impression of having just woken up. "Can I help you?" he asked, polite despite the early hour.
"Mr. Gregory Parker?" the Auror inquired, his tone just as bored as his expression.
"Yes."
"I regret to inform you that your cousins in England died two nights ago."
Mr. Parker blinked, staring at the Auror for several seconds, confusion writ large on his face. He frowned and remarked, "I'm afraid I don't really know who you're talking about."
The Auror ignored the comment and gestured to his two companions. "May I present your new wards: Lancelot and Alanna Calvin."
The teens looked up at their new guardian, eyes wide. Their new guardian's brown eyes were equally wide.
34 hours earlier (10 PM London Time)
In an old British manor, nestled in the county of Derbyshire, two siblings sat in the younger sibling's bedroom on the house's upper level, enjoying the beginning of their summer and bantering with each other. Suddenly, Alanna Calvin threw a pillow at her brother; he ducked under it and grinned at her. "Stop whining, Alanna. Once you get to Hogwarts, you'll learn lots of magic. I bet you'll be top of your class, sis."
"But it won't be wandless," Alanna pouted. Her lip jutted out and her violet eyes filled with tears as she gave her brother Lance a pleading look. Red hair spilled down on her shoulders, unbound and silky as it gleamed in the room's candlelight. She was too young for her slim frame to have settled, though both it and her face were already showing hints of their mother's grace and beauty.
Her brother laughed and bounced on the bed. He had dark brown hair and rich blue eyes, which danced at his sister. His face, though it still had hints of baby fat, was narrow and slight, with an almost elven look. Already his frame showed hints of the solidity it would have as an adult and he was also rather tall for his age. "Dad's not teaching me much yet, either, sis," he remarked, trying to placate the younger girl. "He said I've got to master Forbearne (1) before he teaches me anything else."
"But you get to practice it," Alanna muttered, a touch of resentment in her voice.
Lance shook his head, shoulder-length hair flying. "Only if Dad's around, Alanna. I'm not supposed to practice unless he's there to make sure I'm not overdoing it." The teen flushed, remembering the day before when he'd nearly incinerated his mother's favorite vase – and the nearby curtains.
Alanna didn't notice, far too busy pouting. She'd gotten her first wand only the week before and resented being told that she had to wait another two years to start learning Old Magic. It was family tradition, her father said. I didn't learn till I was your brother's age, he said. The Old Magic is our heritage, not a toy, he said. "It's not fair," she burst out.
"I know," her brother agreed, earning himself a startled, gratified look. "I think it's harder because I've spent the past two years learning Latin based spells and using my wand." He leaned closer. "Dad won't let me practice alone because I keep over-doing the spells."
"Really?"
"Really," he confirmed. "Old Magic's easier than the wanded stuff, sis, really easy. Dad said it was a lot harder, but it's not. I keep pushing like I would with my wand and it just kinda flares up and out of control."
"Then I should start learning too," Alanna argued, her gaze intent.
"Dad said 'no', sis and if you keep asking, he's not going to change his mind," Lance chided. In fact, if his sister kept pushing, their father was more likely to take away Alanna's new wand until the end of summer.
"That's easy for you to say."
"If I can get Forbearne under control, maybe we can ask him together," Lance suggested. "Even if he says 'no' this summer, we can ask next summer."
Alanna pouted again. "But that's so long away…"
"Lance, it's bedtime," Mom announced, peeking into Alanna's room. She had a tall, willowy build, long red hair like her daughter, and brown eyes.
"Coming, Mom," Lance replied, swinging off his sister's bed. "Night, sis."
The teen followed his mother as she headed down the hallway to his room. "Mom?" he asked.
"No."
"I didn't even ask yet," Lance protested.
"You didn't have to," she replied, giving her son a knowing smile.
The teen sighed, resigned to his sister badgering him about Old Magic all summer.
A shrill noise broke the nighttime sounds. Lance jumped, spinning around in an effort to find the source of the sudden sound. Mom gasped, and turned toward the front of the manor. "The wards!"
"The wards?"
"Go to your room, Lance," Mom ordered as she turned and ran back down the hallway.
"But Mom!"
"Now, Lancelot!"
Victoria Calvin hurried down the stairs into the foyer of the manor, wand already in hand. Her husband looked up from the fireplace, expression grim. He was a few centimeters taller than his wife and had brown hair like his son's, though his was going gray. He had light blue eyes, and a lanky build.
"Arthur, what is it?"
"The Floo's cut off, 'Toria."
Victoria gasped. "How?"
"I suspect Lord Potter was right and several of His unmarked supporters survived the purge of the Ministry after the Second War."
"The children?"
"The wards should hold, unless they bring in Siege-Engine spells, but I'm taking no chances. Mindy!"
Mindy appeared with a pop and bowed. "Master calls for Mindy?"
"Yes, Mindy. The wards are under attack."
The tiny house-elf twisted her ears and whimpered. Like all of her kind, she stood perhaps one meter high, had long ears, and wore a tea towel with the family crest on it. She looked nothing like the elves of the myriad of fairy tales. Instead of smooth skin and graceful features, her skin was wrinkled and her features marked with the years of service to her family. "Mindy be knowing, Master."
"Yes, Mindy," Arthur said kindly. "Go up to the children's rooms and pack their trunks. Fit as many clothes and family heirlooms as you can into two trunks. Use the children's school trunks, they have the most space."
Mindy nodded. "Mindy be doing that, Master."
Before she could pop out, Arthur added, "And tell the children to join us in the foyer, Mindy."
Mindy bowed and popped away.
"Arthur, if the wards hold, we'll have gotten them up for nothing," Victoria protested with a frown.
" 'Toria, I hope you're right. Then all we would lose is some sleep. But Constant Vigilance, as old Mad Eye used to say." Arthur scowled and examined the ward monitor. "The wards are holding for now."
Thunder came from outside as spells pounded against the wards. Victoria moved to the windows and looked out. Wizards stood outside the manor's gates, casting spell after spell, attempting to wear down the wards through attrition. The spells lit up the night and illuminated the skull-like white masks the attackers wore. The wards flared as a deep red spell struck them. The strike heralded another boom that shook both the building and the family within.
"What's happening?" Alanna cried as she ran down the stairs, her brother on her heels. Her violet eyes filled with tears when she saw her mother crying. "What's wrong?"
"Come here, darling." Victoria knelt and let Alanna run into her arms. The young girl sniffled as her mother hugged her.
Lance went to his father, who enfolded him in his own hug. "The wards are under attack, Alanna," Arthur informed his daughter. "Aslan willing, they will hold and we will be safe."
Another boom shook the house. Arthur frowned and looked at his wife. " 'Toria, are they using Siege-Engine spells?" The children gasped at the mention of the spells that had nearly brought down the Ministry's wards during Grindelwald's War (2).
"I saw a deep red spell from the window, Arthur," Victoria reported, her gaze grim.
"Daddy, the Floo," Alanna declared, tugging her mother toward the fireplace.
"It's been cut off," their father admitted.
"Dad, what about a Portkey? Or Apparating?" Lance asked.
"Our own wards prevent that, son," Arthur replied, gaze solemn. "After your grandparents died, I had the goblins update the manor's wards. I insisted they not add an override to the new wards since that was how your grandparents were murdered. With the Floo cut off, we have no way to escape the estate."
Alanna began to cry. "We're trapped!"
Arthur pulled his son close to his wife and daughter. "Alanna, I promise you, if nothing else, you, your brother, and your mother will survive."
Victoria frowned, but did not openly disagree with her husband.
Lance leaned against his father's shoulder, exhausted. The four of them were on the sofas next to the fireplace, listening to the attack as it wore on. The thunder of spells hitting the wards was a constant now and the ward alarm had all but faded into the background.
Mindy popped in briefly to inform them that the trunks were packed. Grim and determined, Arthur handed her several volumes from the family library and asked her to pack those as well. When Lance peered at him, his father explained, "If the library's wards fail, our history and family grimoire will not be lost."
"Won't the wards hold?" Lance questioned anxiously.
"I pray they will, son, but I am taking no chances. If you, your sister, and your mother are forced to flee, you will have everything you need to learn our history and the Old Magic." Arthur pulled his son close, solemn. "As good a witch as your mother is, she has no talent for the family magic, but you and your sister do. Promise me that you will remember everything I've taught you, Lance."
"I promise, Dad," Lance replied, just as solemn as his father.
Next to Lance, Alanna had cried herself out and lay asleep in their mother's lap. Lance would have liked to join her, but their father, once the trunks were packed, insisted on an impromptu practice session. It took most of the next two hours, but Lance eventually managed to master keeping the fire spell under control, conjuring a small ball of fire above his palm and making it grow and shrink without letting the fire smoke or spark at the furniture.
"That was excellent work, son," Dad praised, nudging his son upright.
"Dad…" Lance groaned.
"I know you're tired, son. I need to check the wards."
As his father rose, the background shriek of the ward alarm rose and wailed in new alarm. There was a muffled boom from outside the mansion, much louder than any of the previous explosions. The elder Calvin raced to the window instead of the ward monitor. As he looked out the window, his face went very pale, almost white.
" 'Toria."
The word was soft but firm. Mom looked up and shook Alanna awake. Alanna grumbled as their mother hurried to her husband's side. Lance stood as well and pulled Alanna upright, ignoring her mutters; there was only one reason for their father to panic. The wards had fallen.
"Mindy!" Dad called, the elf appearing at once. "Take 'Toria, the kids, and their trunks and get them out!"
Mindy trembled, involuntarily twisting one ear. "Mindy is only being able to take them to forest," she informed her Master.
"That's fine." He turned to Mom, his eyes grim.
"Wait," Mom looked down at Mindy. "How far within the forest?"
Mindy trembled. "Mindy is not knowing, Mistress. Mindy has never carried so many before."
"Is it possible we will appear on the grounds?" their mother pressed.
"Mindy does not think so, Mistress, but bad mens may be seeing yous in trees."
Mom nodded. "And if you only carry the children and their trunks?"
"Mom!" both teens protested at once.
" 'Toria!"
"Hush! Mindy?"
Mindy considered, distress twisting her features. "Mindy can get Young Master and Young Mistress farther into forest, Mistress."
" 'Toria, the children need you," Dad pointed out.
"Please don't go, Mommy," Alanna pleaded.
Mom knelt, gathering both children into her arms. "Mommy loves you, both of you, so very much." Tears gathered in her eyes. "I'm so proud of you both. Be safe." She paused and met their eyes. "But if you cannot be safe, my own, be magnificent!"
She released them and their father gathered them up, openly weeping. "Your mother is right, we love you both. And I'm proud of you." He reached out, wiping the tears from his children's eyes. "Remember, all things work together for those that love the Lion and keep His commandments (3)." One hand rested on Alanna's head and the other on Lance's. "May Aslan bless you and keep you. May Aslan cause His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you. May He bless you with His love and grant you His peace. Shalom." He rose, but murmured one thing more in Lance's ear, "Look after your sister."
Lance nodded to his father, eyes grave and much older. I promise…
Artorius Calvin sucked in a deep breath and traded looks with his wife. "Mindy, get them out of here," he ordered.
The house-elf snapped her fingers and two trunks with the family crest engraved on them appeared between her and the children. She popped to the children, grabbed their hands, bowed to her Masters, and popped out.
Arthur turned to face the front entrance, his wand dropping into his hand. Victoria stepped up beside him. "Together then," she murmured.
"Let this be the hour when we draw swords together," he quoted, smiling at her.
"Fell deeds awake," she replied.
"Now for wrath."
"Now for ruin."
"And the red dawn," they finished together, twirling their wands up and to the ready.
When the front doors fell inward, they cast together, sending their killers flying back out the shattered doors as the battle began. The Death Eaters would pay dearly for their lives this night.
Two teens clung to each other as the only home they had ever known burned to the ground. From the safety of the forest, they watched as the Death Eaters advanced into the manor, were thrown back, and countered violently, forcing their way into the grand, stately home. Fire and smoke rose around the building, licking greedily at the roof and the nearby garden.
Mindy tugged at her charges, pulling them away as the roof caved in with a thunderous crash. The house-elf's magic lifted the trunks into the air as the three figures made their way deeper into the estate's woods. The house-elf looked over her shoulder at the distant manor.
The Dark Mark rose above the fire, mocking her.
[1] Old English for 'burn'
[2] Known as World War II by non-magicals
[3] Altered version of Romans 8:28
Author note: I have had a few people compliment me on the 'be magnificent' line. I always knew I got that line from somewhere, but when I originally posted this story, I didn't remember where. Well, since then, I've re-discovered the source and can now give credit where it's due. Credit goes to Vathara and her Buffy The Vampire Slayer/Bleach crossover "Petals in the Wind" on this site.