A/N: We have largely finished our flashback timelines, but we're not done exploring alternative narrators just yet! I'm experimenting with a new POV character for this chapter...let me know how it works out! There's also a lot crammed into this extra-long chapter, so buckle in for a wild ride!
March 22, 2016 (Calvin)
Calvin Hopkins felt like he was living in a dream.
The girl he'd been infatuated with for the past year had agreed to go out with him. The shy, brilliant, and beautiful young witch had finally decided to give him the time of day. And things were going well! Sure, their relationship was progressing rather slowly – Eva was hesitant to engage in intimacy, and Calvin sometimes struggled to read her complex moods and quiet demeanor. But he was a patient man. He would wait years for Evangeline Prewitt if he had to. She was worth it.
She still remained an enigma to Calvin in many ways. She never ceased to amaze him with her intelligence and abilities, but remained stubbornly humble and seemingly uninterested by how special she was. She was witty and kind, traits that could easily make her among the most popular girls in the school, but preferred solitude, not bothering herself with the classmates who were so intrigued by her. And most maddeningly of all, she was one of the most natural, graceful fliers on a broom he'd ever seen, yet she seemed content to keep her feet firmly on the ground, her head in books instead of the clouds.
Calvin wondered if there was some darkness hidden away somewhere – some other reason why she kept her distance from everyone. Was there some abusive childhood trauma he didn't know about? Was she homesick for Australia? Was there some kind of incident that made her an outcast at Willoughby Academy? Or perhaps the answer was far simpler: she had no family, no one to rely on, and felt as though she had to go through life alone. He hoped to disabuse her of that notion, to prove to her that there were people out there who would follow her to the ends of the earth if she asked them to.
He couldn't entirely blame her for keeping him at arm's length, after what had happened between them the previous year. He'd readily agreed to spy on her at the Headmaster's request, not realizing how much of a cruel betrayal she would see it as. He'd regretted it ever since, and declined Harry's subsequent efforts to pry into her private life. He hoped she would forgive him, and strove to spend every waking moment earning her trust back. Even his profound respect for Potter would never again get in between him and Eva. She seemed like someone who had been hurt many times before, and he never wanted to hurt her again.
Eva spent much of her time in isolation, working on various projects that she rarely granted him access to. He once caught a glimpse of a sketch she'd made for her Ancient Runes project, filled with symbols that he did not remotely recognize. It was as though she spoke a completely different language, understood magic on a more primal level than everyone else. He desperately wanted to know her secrets, but feared scaring her away by prying into the inner workings of her mind. But he prayed for more glimpses of her brilliance, more insight into what made such a wondrous young woman tick.
Which was why he was so looking forward to Tuesday morning, as he arrived bright and early for Professor Babbling's class. Today was the day she would present her self-research project, which had exempted her from most of the course homework and testing throughout the year. He and the rest of the class had openly gossiped about this development, wondering what Babbling must have seen in her to grant her such special privileges. But the more Calvin learned about Eva, the less such occurrences surprised him. He was simply excited to finally see what she was working on – he had no doubt that it would be revelatory.
He watched her fidget nervously at the front of the class, holding a large cardboard box, as Babbling took down the attendance for the day. Eva had expressed fear to him the night before of public speaking, of facing the judgment of her peers. Calvin had assured her that most of the students didn't care, that they were just happy for the excuse to not have to listen to another Babbling lecture. This had calmed her somewhat, even though it was a lie – Calvin knew his fellow students were just as endlessly curious about her as he was. But he gave her a reassuring wink when she glanced his direction, and she gave him a modest smile in return.
There suddenly came a knock at the door, and everyone turned to see Headmaster Potter stroll into the classroom. "Hope I'm not interrupting, Professor," said Harry with a sheepish grin. "I heard that Miss Prewitt here would be presenting her Runes project today, and I hoped to sit in."
"Oh, but of course!" Babbling said excitedly. "Come in, Headmaster, come in!"
Eva looked doubly nervous now as Harry took a seat in the corner, passively watching the proceedings. The other students murmured excitedly at his presence; clearly they knew this must mean something special was about to happen. Calvin found himself sitting up straighter, not just to make a good impression for the Headmaster, but out of genuine curiosity for what this presentation could mean. Why would Potter be so interested in a sixth-year Runes project?
Calvin watched intently as Eva reached into her box and pulled out several large, round pots, each filled with dirt. She laid them out on the table at the front of the room, seven pots in all. "The purpose of my research was to examine the interaction between runes and plant life," she began nervously. "At the bottom of each of these pots is a runestone or series of runestones designed to act upon the plant growing within, as detailed in these written diagrams."
Eva stood next to the first pot, in which a small bonsai tree was growing. "First, the most obvious candidate: death," said Eva. She levitated the first diagram in the air and enlarged it, so that everyone could see her sketch of the Death rune: a stone inscribed with a seven-pointed star. Calvin frowned; he had never seen such a symbol before in their assigned course materials, and judging from the perplexed looks of his fellow classmates, neither had they.
Eva pointed her wand at the pot and muttered, "Activere." There was a faint golden glow from within the pot as the rune activated, and the bonsai tree wilted, turning black and shriveling down into the pot, dead.
"Next," said Eva, moving on to the second (empty) pot, "I wanted to see if the process of life could be accelerated, using time." She enlarged a second diagram in the air, showing off what Calvin assumed must be a Time rune: a circle with an inscribed vertical line. She again muttered the activation phrase, and the pot glowed gold. A green sprout shot out of the dirt, small branches forming along the growing trunk, until it quite abruptly shriveled and died as well.
"A healthy tree needs ample water and nutrients to grow," Eva explained, "but the time rune accelerates the growth process so quickly that the pot is sapped of all moisture and it cannot survive. So, we need a way to keep it constantly hydrated."
Eva moved to the third empty pot and enlarged its diagram: two runes, side by side, the Time rune and a smaller Water rune, symbolized by a crashing wave symbol – finally, a rune Calvin recognized.
"Activere," said Eva, tapping her wand to the pot, and again a bonsai tree began to sprout. This time it advanced much farther into the growth cycle; Calvin's eyes widened as its trunk solidified and twisting branches shot off in all directions, beautiful green leaves emerging from buds at great speed. Then, just as suddenly, it died again, shriveling and wilting, to the students' vocal dismay.
"A new problem emerges," Eva explained. She pointed her wand at the pot, and the tiny water rune levitated out of the dirt for all to see. "The water rune, being of a smaller size than the time rune, is quickly destroyed, with the symbol being erased from the rune itself." All eyes peered closer at the tiny rune hovering in midair; the crashing wave symbol could no longer be seen, and the surface of the runestone appeared to be chipped and scratched.
"Any guesses as to the problem, Professor?" Eva posed to Babbling. Calvin glanced into the corner; Harry looked puzzled, as though unsure of the problem himself.
"Interesting," said Babbling, considering this question. "Perhaps the two runes, working so closely together, begin to affect each other negatively?"
"On the contrary," Eva grinned. "Perhaps the fourth diagram will enlighten you."
And she moved on to the fourth pot, enlarging its diagram for all to see. Now, next to the time and water runes sat a third rune, engraved with a more complex carving in a runic language that Calvin recognized from their O.W.L. year.
"A protective rune?" Babbling muttered, confused, as she mentally translated the carving. "Oh. Oh! Surely not…"
"Erosion," Eva explained. "As the water rune produces water, the time rune accelerates its motion, watering the plant but also the runestones. A runestone is just a stone, after all, and given enough time – which the time rune provides plenty of – the water erodes the surface of the stone away, and once the carving is destroyed, the rune no longer functions."
"Brilliant!" Babbling said in awe. "Therefore, the protective rune prevents the rune network from being affected by the motion of the water, so it cannot erode the stones themselves!"
"Correct," said Eva. And she activated the fourth pot, once again beginning the growth process of the tree within. It quickly grew to the same size as the previous tree, but once again – almost at the exact same point – it, too, withered and died. Eva once again removed the water rune from the pot for all to see, and once again it had been wiped blank, its surface smooth and devoid of carvings.
"And now, Professor?" Eva said with an excited grin. Calvin could tell that things were going exactly as she'd planned so far, and he did a mental fist-pump at her growing confidence.
"I suspect I know," Babbling grinned. "What do we think, class? What went wrong with the rune network that time?"
The students murmured amongst themselves for a while, discussing this problem. Calvin also thought he knew the answer, but he waited for the others to catch on, grinning at the brilliance of Eva's design.
Finally, Candace Clearwater raised her hand. "The dirt?" she asked.
"Yes," Eva confirmed. "The water is not the only force of erosion acting upon the runestones. The dirt is also shifting as the roots grow, as well as small pockets of air reaching the bottom of the pot. Therefore, more protective runes are needed."
Eva moved on to the fifth pot and enlarged its diagram. Two new protective runes had been added, which, when translated, prevented the stones from being damaged by contact with dirt and air, respectively. She tapped her wand to the pot, and again the plant began to grow. This time, the tree fully materialized before their eyes; the students murmured excitedly as the trunk formed and leaf-covered branches began to snarl outwards.
Then, quite abruptly, the pot shattered; the students in the front row flinched as soil and shards of ceramic sprayed outwards. Eva caught the debris with her wand before it could harm anyone and deactivated the runes. "Now that the tree has everything it needs to grow indefinitely, the pot cannot contain its size," she explained. "So now we can simply add an Unbreakable Charm to the pot and watch it grow indefinitely."
She moved on to the sixth pot and enlarged its diagram, showcasing the newly added runes. She activated the pot, and the bonsai tree again began to grow. This time, the pot did not shatter; instead, it toppled over sideways, and the tree began spilling out over the desk and down the sides, a massive snarl of wood and leaves. Eva tapped her wand to the mess to stop the growth.
"This tree would grow indefinitely until it ran out of sunlight and nutrients," she explained as she Vanished the mess. "But that isn't very useful. We can stop the runes to halt the growth, but eventually the tree would decay and die. What if there was a way to prevent this death process from beginning? What if we could grow and keep a full-sized bonsai that will survive indefinitely?"
Eva moved on to the seventh and final pot, enlarging by far the most complex diagram yet. "Here, the Unbreakable rune is set to trigger a switch," she explained as she pointed to the diagram. "Once the pot attempts to explode, the Time and Water runes are removed from the network, and a new one is added: the inverse."
Calvin glanced over at Harry, who was leaning forward expectantly as Eva pointed out the final rune to be added: the same line and circle, but now inscribed within a triangle. Calvin thought it looked vaguely familiar, but wasn't sure exactly why.
"This rune will prevent the tree from growing, but also prevent it from decaying," Eva explained. "It will remain in permanent stasis, forever alive but ungrowing, until the rune is deactivated."
She tapped her wand to the pot. The bonsai tree once again exploded into existence, reaching its way to the sky, expanding to the limits of the pot. There was a sudden flash of white as the pot attempted to explode, only for the tree to abruptly stop moving. Calvin watched along with the rest of the class, transfixed, as the shivering branches came to a standstill, and the tree stood tall, fully grown, perpetually alive yet frozen in time.
"Bravo, Miss Prewitt!" Professor Babbling exclaimed, initiating a polite round of applause from the students. "This is remarkable work. I've never seen such precise and innovative rune work before...this could be the start of something truly revolutionary in the field." Eva beamed at the praise, giving Calvin a feeling of pride on her behalf.
"Could the process be reversed?" a voice piped up from the back of the room. All eyes turned to Harry, who was watching the proceedings with high interest. "Is there a rune that can cause the fully-grown tree to revert back to a seed?"
"Erm...not that I know of, sir," said Eva.
"I daresay that is a question for the Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries," Babbling cut in. "But I believe they stopped researching Time-Turners many years ago."
"But surely the magic that powers the Time-Turners can be tapped into somehow?" Harry asked excitedly.
"I imagine such magic is far beyond the comprehension of a sixth-year, Headmaster," Babbling said in a lightly teasing tone. "All the same, this is remarkable work, Miss Prewitt! My colleagues around the world would love to hear about your research. Full marks, naturally, and I will personally aid you in publishing your findings over the summer."
"Thank you, Professor," Eva said, in her eternally-humble manner. Calvin glanced back at Harry; he looked slightly put-out by the lack of resolution to his own question, but the Headmaster clapped politely along with the rest of the class as Eva retook her seat beside Calvin, looking relieved.
"That was bloody brilliant, Eva," he whispered in her ear. She smiled faintly at him – a tiny gesture, but one that filled him with warmth. She was difficult to draw legitimate emotions out of, so any time he succeeded was a moment he treasured dearly.
Eva had a free period after lunch, and Calvin accompanied her down to the Herbology greenhouses so that she could return the pots she'd borrowed from Professor Abbott. He knew this would make him late for Divination, but he didn't much care – he had grown to despise the subject, only sticking with it at his mother's urging. Besides, it was a gorgeous spring afternoon, one of the first sunny and clear days Hogwarts had seen in months, and he wanted nothing more right now than to walk the grounds with his beautiful, brilliant girlfriend.
They decided to settle under a tree by the lake, watching the sunlight bounce off of the rippling waves of the water's surface. Eva nestled in close to Calvin; he hesitated only a moment, surprised, before draping an arm across her shoulders and inviting her in. Eva rarely showed physical affection, to the point that Calvin was frequently unprepared and unsure how to respond. But he reveled in the closeness, not questioning it, just embracing it. He would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of the casual intimacy he'd witnessed between her and Roxanne – the easy way with which they interacted and touched one another in public – and wished he could have that for himself.
One step at a time, he reminded himself. She's worth waiting for.
"What are you doing for spring break?" asked Eva. They had three more days of classes before Hogwarts was dismissed for a full week.
"Going home to Reading," said Calvin. "Mum and Dad are eager to see me, especially with all the craziness with the Muggles happening."
"Is it truly that bad out there?" Eva asked worriedly.
"I think so," Calvin said grimly. "My dad says the Aurors are sent out to quell violent protests multiple times a week. He thinks it's only a matter of time until it escalates into something more sinister."
"Are you worried about him?" Eva asked.
"Yes and no," Calvin sighed. "I know he can handle himself. But he's prone to sticking his nose into dangerous situations, which gets him into trouble sometimes. And Mother worries sick about him."
"I can only imagine," Eva muttered.
"Enough about that, though," said Calvin. "What about you?"
"I'll be here," Eva shrugged. "Just going to use the free time to catch up on some work."
"You know, I'm sure you'd be welcome with my parents," Calvin offered. "We have plenty of extra room, and I know they'll love you."
Eva smiled distantly at the idea. "I appreciate it," she said, "but I think it's best I stay here. I'll have use of the school library to work on my research project."
"Research project?" Calvin frowned. "But didn't you just finish your presentation for Babbling?"
"Different project," Eva chuckled. "This one's just for me."
Calvin found it rather maddening how secretive Eva was about her personal 'research'. She would often disappear for hours, sometimes days, off in some far-flung corner of the castle conducting her private studies. He looked for her everywhere – the library, empty classrooms, even the kitchen. His mates in Gryffindor attested that she rarely spent time in their common room. So where did she get off to? And what was she doing there? He was burning to know, but didn't want to spook her with too many invasive questions.
"Anything of particular interest?" he asked innocently. "Y'know, I'm a fair hand at research myself...if you ever wanted a second pair of eyes."
Eva chuckled again, but said nothing. They stared out across the lake for several long, peaceful moments. Calvin assumed that was the end of the conversation. But eventually, Eva spoke up: "Have you ever heard of the Veil of Death?"
"Erm...no," Calvin said, perplexed. "What's that?"
"Something in the Department of Mysteries," Eva went on.
"It doesn't ring a bell," Calvin frowned. "Where did you hear about it?"
"I read about it in a book once," Eva said quickly. Something about her tone told Calvin that she was lying, but he couldn't imagine why. "It's supposedly like an archway, with a heavy veil in between. And passing through it causes death."
"That's odd," Calvin muttered. "Mother's never mentioned anything about it...not that she would, I suppose; she's not allowed."
"So she never talks about what she does in there?" asked Eva.
"Never," Calvin confirmed. "Well, except once. The Headmaster came over for dinner, and my parents both got a bit tipsy, and she shared more than she probably should have."
"The Headmaster joined your family for dinner?" asked Eva, intrigued.
"He comes over about once a year," Calvin beamed. "A favor to my father, I think, for helping him with some things after the war. I believe he's coming next week, in fact."
"How nice," Eva mused thoughtfully. "He seems to care for your future quite a lot."
"It's hard to tell sometimes," Calvin sighed. "There are days when it feels like he wants nothing to do with me."
"Don't sell yourself short," Eva said encouragingly. "I feel that way all the time. Everyone can tell he's fond of you."
Calvin glowed with pride at this. He didn't know if he believed it, but hearing it said aloud still felt good. Besides his own father, there was nobody he wanted to impress more than Harry Potter. He was a complex man, but a war hero and a leader nonetheless, and Calvin would do anything to stay in his good graces.
That Saturday, Eva bade him goodbye at Hogsmeade Station with a chaste kiss on the cheek. It was a small gesture, but one that kept him feeling on cloud nine for the entire train ride to London. He was eager to see his parents, of course, but suddenly felt the pang of missing out on an entire week with one of the most fascinating people he'd ever had the pleasure to meet. He just hoped she would still find him interesting when he returned…
The good feeling didn't last long once he disembarked at King's Cross, where his mother waited for him alone, looking grim. "Hello, Mum," he said, giving her a quick hug. "Dad okay?" They both knew that normally it would be his father picking up Calvin, which meant something must have come up to prevent it.
"He was called in to deal with a Muggle protest in Cambridge," said Mrs. Hopkins grimly. "He hopes he'll be home in time for dinner."
"I'm sure he'll be fine," Calvin reassured her, giving his mother a gentle squeeze on the arm. He knew how much she worried after her husband during such occasions – Aurors had been getting badly injured at the hand of the Muggles lately, and one had even been shot and killed back in January. But Calvin's father was no ordinary Auror – he was second in command, one of the most experienced men on the force. And Calvin couldn't be more proud, knowing that a man like him was on the front lines keeping people safe.
Calvin's mother took him home via side-along Apparition, for what Calvin hoped would be the last time. He was due to take his Apparition license test in just two months, and relished in the freedom that would come from being able to travel without parental supervision. They arrived in the cozy villa the Hopkins family called home, and despite his fondness for Hogwarts, Calvin felt a sense of peace at being home once more.
"Make sure you don't make plans for Monday night," Mrs. Hopkins reminded her son as they pulled off their cloaks in the entryway. "Your Headmaster will be coming over for dinner."
"I remember, Mother," Calvin grinned, giving her a placating kiss on the cheek. "I'll be here."
"This is a very significant occasion," she said sternly. "It is a great honor Potter is visiting us, so close to such an important election. We must show him nothing but our full support."
"Understood," Calvin winked, before heading upstairs to settle into his room. It was always a nice feeling to be back home in Reading, in the quiet, peaceful Muggle neighborhood he'd grown up in. A number of his classmates lived in the area, and he often spent his holidays running around town with them, flirting with the local Muggle girls and trying to sneak into bars. He wasn't sure how many of them would be eager to do so now, what with the intense political climate and Muggle unrest, and anticipated a far quieter break at home.
But something else felt different as well. He felt a pull back towards Hogwarts, a yearning to be back at the school he rarely felt outside the tail-end of summer. He knew it was less to do with the castle itself and more with who was in it. He wanted to spend every waking moment with Eva, fearful that if he went too long without seeing her, she'd forget about his existence and leave him behind. He considered writing her an owl, letting her know he was home safely and that he missed her already. But he didn't want to smother her, or scare her away, so he resisted the temptation.
His father arrived home late that night, long after dinner time, looking worn. Calvin bounded down the stairs to greet him as his mother fussed over her husband. "...I mean, really, keeping you so late on your day off," she tutted.
"It's a necessary evil," Mr. Hopkins sighed. "The crowds refused to go home until it got dark." He spotted his son in the doorway and embraced him in a long hug; Calvin relished in the gesture, holding onto him tight. His father wasn't the most affectionate man, but ever since the trouble with the Muggles had begun, he'd been more open about his love and care for his family, which Calvin appreciated. He knew his father loved him, of course, but the occasional reminder didn't hurt.
Calvin attempted to pry into the events of his day, but Mr. Hopkins dismissed him, retiring to an early bed. Calvin figured he would have a chance to bring it up again on Monday, when the Headmaster arrived for dinner. He was certain the conversation would turn to politics at some point, and looked forward to getting a better sense of what was going on in the real world.
He found himself restlessly awaiting Monday night, for more reasons than one. It was dreadfully boring at home, once the novelty of it wore off, and as expected, his friends' families were not allowing them to wander the streets unsupervised anymore. Calvin mostly just wanted a break in the monotony, a distraction from his burning desire to see Eva again, to pour his heart out into a letter...but no, he kept that urge tucked away. A time would come when he could express everything he felt about her, but not while she was so guarded and distant with him. He'd screwed it up with her once by being too earnest; he wouldn't repeat that mistake.
The Headmaster arrived at six on the dot on Monday evening, looking tired but nonetheless pleased to be there. "Good to see you looking well, John," Harry said, embracing Mr. Hopkins in a hug. "And Farrah, you look beautiful as always; I hope you haven't been slaving away in the kitchen all day on my behalf."
"Not at all, Mr. Potter," Mrs. Hopkins beamed at him. Calvin knew this was a lie; she'd been up since nine A.M. preparing a full four-course meal by herself, even rejecting her son's offers to help. He was a rubbish cook, of course, and only asked to alleviate his boredom, but it was worth a try anyway, even if he burned a few dishes.
"Ah, and here's Calvin," Harry smiled, shaking the boy's hand gregariously. "I know our personal lessons have been cut short as of late, but I'm pleased to see your progress in class."
"Thank you, sir," Calvin smiled politely, glowing internally at the pleased looks on his parents' faces at this compliment.
They sat around the table shortly after, digging into the delicious meal Mrs. Hopkins had prepared. Harry was the consummate dinner guest as always, praising each and every dish and engaging everyone around him in conversation. Calvin was often amazed at how intelligent Harry was, how easily he could slide into any topic and speak to it as though he was an expert. He shifted from talk about the Aurors, to the Quidditch league, to ward-breaking, to Transfiguration theory and many other subjects with ease.
Calvin wondered how long it would take for conversation to inevitably turn to politics, but Harry surprisingly showed restraint. Perhaps he was exhausted from the grind of the election and relished in this meal as a reprieve from it all. But he finally broached the topic as the fourth course wound down and the wine glasses were broken out.
"Say John, have you spoken to your man in Elections recently?" Harry asked. It was phrased innocently enough, but Calvin could see his father stiffen, knowing that it was an important shift in the conversation.
"I have," Mr. Hopkins said slowly. "He's optimistic that there's still time for things to turn around. You know how inaccurate the polling can be—"
"Ah, don't bullshit me now," Harry said with a knowing smirk. "How bad is it? If the Prophet still won't report numbers, I can't imagine it's looking good for me."
Mr. Hopkins hesitated. "Last week's numbers have you down eighteen points to Granger," he admitted with a sigh. "But we're still more than a month away, and plenty can change—"
"I get it," Harry nodded, waving him off. "She's got a lot of grassroots support, there's no denying it. I just need to find a way to recapture the attention of the general public."
"To be honest, I thought this Muggle business would help you more," sighed Mr. Hopkins. "If more of the wizarding world saw them as a legitimate threat more than a nuisance, they might want a stronger leader in charge…"
"Too many people view them as harmless," Harry agreed. "If anything, my strong language against them has turned the Muggle-borns against me. That's their family and friends I'm talking about, after all."
"If it wasn't for the damned Statute falling," Hopkins scoffed bitterly. "Things were so much better back when the worlds were kept separate—"
"Calvin, dear, why don't you tell us about school?" Mrs. Hopkins said loudly, clearly hoping to change the subject. This had been a common complaint of his father's, and one that rarely went anywhere productive.
"It's going quite well," said Calvin. "I'm on track for all 'Outstanding's again. And Slytherin is in the lead for the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup."
"Atta boy," said Mr. Hopkins, clapping his son on the shoulder. "And what about your love life? Any dames catch your fancy?"
"Oh, John—" Mrs. Hopkins scoffed at this remark.
"As a matter of fact," Calvin said, a sloppy grin spreading across his face, "there is someone."
"That so?" said Mr. Hopkins. "You're seeing a gal?"
"I am," Calvin nodded. "Her name's Evangeline Prewitt."
Harry coughed in surprise, head whipping around towards Calvin at this news. Calvin was startled by this reaction; he hadn't expected the Headmaster to care much who was dating who within his castle. "Is that so?" Harry said slowly, face unreadable.
"We're going on two months now," Calvin said bashfully. "It's been slow, but I think there could be something there."
"Well, that's wonderful, dear!" Mrs. Hopkins said, clapping her hands together in delight. "You must invite her over this summer!"
"Prewitt, you say?" said Mr. Hopkins thoughtfully. "A fine family. Though I didn't think there were any left, after the last daughter married a Weasley—"
"She's Australian," Calvin added quickly. "She just transferred here less than two years ago. And she's already top of our class."
"That so?" said Mr. Hopkins, arching an eyebrow. "I thought you were the top of your class."
"Until Eva showed up," Calvin grinned sheepishly. "But she's bloody brilliant, Dad. I've never met anyone like her."
"She is quite a remarkable young witch," Harry agreed, still looking to be processing this news.
"What are her interests?" asked Mrs. Hopkins. "What does she wish to study?"
"Dunno, honestly," Calvin shrugged. "Maybe you ought to convince her to become an Unspeakable. She's studying the Department of Mysteries in her free time – she mentioned something about a 'Veil of Death' the other day."
The effect these words had on the room was immediate. Harry dropped his fork with a clatter, eyebrows raised at the revelation; Mr. Hopkins glanced nervously to his wife. But Calvin's mother's reaction was the strongest, her hawk-like eyes pinned on her son in a fierce glare.
"How did she learn of the Veil?" she snapped. "That's one of Britain's most closely-guarded secrets!"
"Erm…" Calvin stammered; he realized at once that he'd said something wrong. "She said she read about it somewhere...I dunno where…"
The tension was palpable for several long seconds, finally punctuated by a thoughtful chuckle from Harry. "That's probably my fault," he said with a wan smile. "My friends and I stumbled across the Veil during our incursion to the Department, back in my fifth year. I'm sure one of them must have talked about what they saw – there were six of us, after all, and it's a pretty remarkable object."
"They didn't Obliviate you when they caught you?" asked Mrs. Hopkins, appalled. "What kind of lax security did Fudge employ?"
"Merlin bless Dumbledore for that, I suppose," Harry muttered, taking a deep drink from his goblet before turning his attention back to Calvin. "What interest does Miss Prewitt have in the Veil?"
"No idea," Calvin shrugged. "But it does exist? Does it really kill people if you walk through it?"
"We should not be discussing this!" Mrs. Hopkins said adamantly. "If the Ministry knew what we were talking about—"
"Minister Granger was with us, if you'll remember," Harry said with a playful wink. "And it seems the cat is already out of the bag, so to speak. Yes, Calvin, the Veil does cause death. I saw it happen with my own two eyes, to my godfather. Only he didn't just die – he sort of, departed. Like he didn't exist on this plane of reality any longer."
"How do you mean?" Calvin frowned. Harry looked questioningly at his mother, as though imploring her to elaborate. Calvin could see from the Headmaster's expression that he was just as curious about the Veil as he (and likely Eva) was.
"Merlin forgive me," Mrs. Hopkins muttered, taking a hearty drink of wine before continuing. "Yes, the Veil is a sort of...doorway. It connects the world of the living and the dead."
"So, a person can cross from one to the other?" Harry asked, intrigued.
"Well...yes, and no," Mrs. Hopkins sighed. "A person can walk through it, but they cannot come back. Nothing can come back, because it would have to be dead to exist on that side of the doorway."
"So it's a one-way journey only," Harry confirmed.
"Yes," said Mrs. Hopkins, taking another unsteady drink of wine. "The Ministry used to use the Veil for executions, but they stopped about two hundred years ago. It made the Veil too unstable."
"Unstable?"
"It shouldn't exist in the first place," Mrs. Hopkins sighed. "It's a corruption, a man-made abomination. Manipulating leylines like that should not be allowed."
"What's a leyline?" asked Calvin. His mother's eyes went wide again, realizing she may have said too much. But Harry answered for her.
"It's a hotspot of magical energy," said Harry. "Some theorize them to be the sources of our magical power. But I apologize, Farrah, do you mean to suggest that the Veil itself is a leyline?"
Mrs. Hopkins looked as though she knew she oughtn't say more, but she reached for her wine glass again and took another deep drink to steady herself. "Yes," she said. "Our belief is that the Ministry was built around it, nearly a millennium ago, to harness its power. But someone corrupted it! Created a door where one was never meant to exist!"
"Who?" asked Harry.
"How should I know?" Mrs. Hopkins shrugged. "The Veil pre-dates all of the Department's documentation. It must have happened many centuries ago."
"Could it have been the Peverells?" Harry said thoughtfully. An odd expression came over Calvin's mother as she considered this question. Clearly she recognized the name.
"What aren't you telling me, Mr. Potter?" she asked suspiciously.
"I could ask you the same," Harry smiled disarmingly. They stared at one another in silence for an uncomfortable length of time. Calvin glanced at his father, who looked as concerned as his son did, looking back and forth between his wife and the Headmaster, engaged in some sort of non-verbal battle of wits.
"Let's say someone walked through the Veil who couldn't die," Harry asked placidly, breaking the fragile silence. "What d'you think might happen?"
Again, Mrs. Hopkins appeared shocked by this question. "Surely you do not possess them all," she whispered fearfully.
"I do."
Calvin had no idea what they were talking about, and from the looks of it, neither did his father, who looked alarmed by the sudden shift in the tone of their conversation.
"You mustn't do what you're considering," Mrs. Hopkins breathed, eyes wide with horror. "I know not what would happen, but it could be disastrous."
"Why not close the doorway, if you're so concerned?" Harry posed innocently.
"And risk destroying the leyline?" Mrs. Hopkins laughed mirthlessly. "It could cause untold devastation, not only in Britain, but worldwide. We know little of how they work, but we know they are all connected somehow, and to tamper with one risks causing damage to them all."
"I've been told many times I can't do something or another," Harry smiled, an edge of malice in his tone. "Yet somehow I usually manage."
Mr. Hopkins cleared his throat loudly, startling both Harry and Mrs. Hopkins, as though they'd both forgotten there were two other people seated at the table with them. "It's certainly getting late," Mr. Hopkins said pointedly. "Calvin, isn't it past your bedtime?"
Calvin glared at his father; they both knew he had no set bedtime, but it was an obvious dismissal from the table. He hated being treated like a child...he turned seventeen in just a few weeks, for Merlin's sake, and he was still ordered around as though he couldn't decide things for himself. But he saw the stern look in his father's eye, so he complied.
"It was a pleasure having you again, Headmaster," Calvin said politely as he stood, bowing to Harry. "I hope you'll come again soon."
"As do I," Harry said, smiling easily as though there were no tension in the room. "I trust that you'll treat Miss Prewitt right, won't you?"
"I will, sir," Calvin promised. He was still perplexed by the Headmaster's apparent interest in their relationship, but decided it best not to ask, not when both of his parents were both silently begging him to leave the room. He hurried upstairs to his bedroom, making a point to slam his door shut behind him to verbalize his displeasure at being dismissed. It was childish, he knew, but it frustrated him that he wasn't trusted to listen in on adult conversations.
Calvin spent the rest of the evening attempting to eavesdrop on the conversation happening below, but his father must have gotten wise and put up a Muffling Charm to prevent him from doing so. So instead, he lay in bed, ruminating on what he had learned. His mother had shared much more about this so-called 'Veil of Death' than he'd ever imagined. He could see why Eva was so entranced by it, though he doubted she'd ever be let anywhere near it to study its properties further.
He considered writing her an owl, telling her what he'd learned. He imagined that it would help her greatly in whatever research she was pursuing. It might be wise to do so sooner than later, given that his mother's paranoia could find him waking up to the other end of a wand wiping his memory clean of the conversation. But she often said too much when she was drinking, and with luck, she wouldn't remember much of what she said come morning. Besides, Calvin was getting drowsy himself, having snuck some of the wine for himself while his parents were distracted.
I'll write to Eva in the morning, he told himself, before drifting off to sleep.
Calvin knew not how long he'd slept before he was abruptly woken again. It was still dark out – the middle of the night – but he could hear urgent voices echoing from down the stairs. The tenor of the conversation sounded dire, causing Calvin to jump out of bed to investigate.
He crept down the stairs, listening intently as two men spoke in hushed tones below him. He caught snippets of their conversation as he slowly approached:
"...Not in an official Auror capacity, of course. This must be kept quiet."
"I understand. Will it be dangerous?"
"I won't lie, it could be. But I will do my best to keep you safe."
"Very well. Should I inform the family?"
"No time, I'm afraid. We must leave as soon as possible."
Calvin slipped on the landing, stumbling down a few steps and into view of the two men. Both turned, wands pointed at him; Calvin saw his father and the Headmaster standing in the entrance foyer. At first he assumed they were still up from the previous night's events, but Harry had changed into a warmer traveling cloak, while his father was still in his pajamas, clearly having been woken up recently.
"Calvin, go back to bed," Mr. Hopkins said sternly.
"What's happening?" Calvin demanded, descending into the room with them. "Are you being called in for work?"
"Something like that, yes," Mr. Hopkins said irritably. "Stay put and comfort your mother if she wakes."
"Let me come with you!" Calvin pleaded. "I'm not a child anymore, Dad. I can handle myself, ask the Headmaster—"
"This is no time to argue!" Mr. Hopkins roared. "You aren't ready, and this is no place for—"
"Actually, John," said Harry thoughtfully, "perhaps Calvin can be of some use to us."
"I can?" Calvin asked eagerly.
"We may need you to think outside the box," Harry warned, "and be prepared for anything. I know you're a capable duelist, but you will stick with us at all times and follow our lead, no matter what. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Calvin said at once, excited to be included for once.
"Potter…" Mr. Hopkins said weakly. "He's my heir...my only son…"
"And I shall guard his life with my own," Harry pledged. "We must go now. Are we ready?"
Mr. Hopkins hesitated, regarding his son with a look of intense worry. "Very well," he sighed. He waved his wand over himself, transfiguring his pajamas into his Auror cloak. Calvin grinned, grabbing his own cloak off the wall by the door and hastily fastening it around himself.
"Quickly now," Harry urged, holding out a small brass ring in his palm. Mr. Hopkins placed a finger to the ring, and Calvin followed suit, as the Headmaster placed the tip of his wand to it. "Portus."
Immediately, Calvin felt the pull of a Portkey whisking them far, far away. He landed roughly on a rocky outcropping, stumbling before quickly righting himself. He peered around, eyes adjusting to the darkness, while also cringing at an ear-splitting noise ripping through the air.
"Caterwauling Charm," Mr. Hopkins shouted; Harry nodded in agreement. Harry twirled his wand in the air, and Calvin felt a fierce burst of magic wash over the landscape; within seconds, the screeching sound had been muffled and contained to the source.
"Did we trigger that alarm?" Calvin asked.
"I don't think so," Harry said grimly. "We must hurry." And he led the way forward, down a rocky path towards a tall, darkened building. Calvin stared at it as they approached, eventually realizing what it was.
"Nurmengard Prison?" he asked, confused. "What are we doing here?"
"Listen closely," Harry said urgently, pulling the other two close. "There is a man housed within this prison, a very dangerous man. He is attempting to escape as we speak, and we mustn't let him. Do you understand?"
"Who is this man?" asked Mr. Hopkins, frowning. "I haven't heard of Nurmengard being active in nearly twenty years—"
"No time!" Harry snapped, reaching into his robes. "We have to find a way into the building, and fast. We'll need to break through the defenses from the outside before the prisoner finds a way out from within." And Harry procured two small vials, filled with swirling, light-blue liquid, handing one each to Calvin and his father.
"What is this?" asked Mr. Hopkins.
"The Draught of Omniscience," Harry explained. "To aid your search."
Calvin felt a rush of excitement at this revelation. He knew Eva had experimented with the Draught before, and he suspected it had contributed to some of her brilliant discoveries over the past year. He knew this might be his only chance to experience the potion for himself. So despite the look of concern on his father's face, he quickly uncorked his vial and downed the blue liquid, waiting impatiently for a reaction.
It hit him like a tidal wave, causing him to drop to one knee as his mind burst with information. A stream of disjointed ideas and memories rushed through him, pulling him under, fighting to drag him along in the current and lose his sense of self…
"Calvin!" Mr. Hopkins said, alarmed.
"M'okay," Calvin grunted. He fought the effects of the potion, feeling the intensity lessen bit by bit, until he became aware of himself again, coming back to his senses. He was still within his own body, standing on this mountaintop with his two closest mentors. He struggled back to his feet, looking up into the concerned eyes of Harry and his father.
"What are you waiting for?" Calvin demanded. "Let's go, then!"
That was all Harry needed. He led the way forward again towards the castle; Mr. Hopkins offered a steadying hand to his son, but Calvin swatted it away. I'm not a kid anymore, he thought defiantly. I can do everything you can do.
They arrived at a large portcullis, which appeared to be the only entrance to the prison. Harry held out a hand over the metal grating, eyes closed, searching for something in the magic in the air. Then, he withdrew. "Blood magic," he announced. "This will take too long to dismantle. We have to find another way in."
"Where?" asked Mr. Hopkins. "I see no other doors or windows…"
"We'll have to make our own entrance," Harry muttered. "Look for weaknesses in the warding structure. Surely there must be a way. Use the Sight."
"Legilimens," Calvin heard his father mutter. He did the same, and was immediately greeted with a spectacular sight. The dark walls of the prison exploded with light; he could see ribbons of magic plastered across them, invisible strands of power protecting the stone from within. He stared in awe for several moments, marveling at the beauty of the wards. He was no expert in protective enchantments, but from what little he knew of runic networks, this was some of the most advanced work he'd ever seen. Whoever had designed the protections here must be an incredibly powerful witch or wizard.
Harry began walking along the edge of the castle walls, probing the magic in the air; Calvin and his father went the other way, doing the same. Calvin knew his father was far more experienced with wards than he was, but all Mr. Hopkins could do was whistle in amazement.
"This place is nigh-impenetrable," he chuckled. "All the runes appear to be inside the prison itself, so we can't get to them. So many redundancies in the runic network...so many fail-safes and back-ups...every rune appears to be protecting one another, so there is no single point of weakness to exploit."
"What if we tried breaking the connections between them?" Calvin offered.
"No use," Mr. Hopkins chuckled. In answer, he waved his wand, and Calvin's Sight allowed him to watch as one of the strands of power was severed, only for two more to quickly appear in its place, filling the gap in the network before it had even been formed.
"And the walls themselves?" Calvin wondered. "Could we just blast through?"
"The runes will have taken care of that too," Mr. Hopkins chuckled. "The stone can't be blasted, transfigured, Vanished, pushed aside, or otherwise tampered with in any way I can think of. I reckon a team of advanced curse-breakers could spent months trying to break in here with no success. And we don't have that kind of time."
Time.
Calvin had a sudden idea occur to him. He had no idea if it would work, but maybe it was worth trying. He raised his wand at the wall and shouted, "Aguamenti!" A jet of water burst from the tip of his wand, spraying the side of the castle. He let the stream run for a few seconds, then cut off the charm. To his satisfaction, he saw that the stone remained dripping wet – the wards had not repelled the water.
"What on earth are you doing, Calvin?" Mr. Hopkins demanded. But Calvin paid him no mind.
"Professor Potter!" he called out into the darkness. The Headmaster hurried over, a questioning look on his face. "I think I might know a way through!"
"How?" asked Harry.
"I'm not sure if it would work…" Calvin stammered. "I only got the idea from Eva's presentation last week...I mean, it might be worth a shot…"
"Out with it, then!" Harry snapped.
"Erosion, sir," Calvin explained. "The walls can't be destroyed, but the elements still affect them. A stream of water could theoretically eat through the stone, given enough time."
"That would take centuries, son," said Mr. Hopkins, exasperated.
"Not necessarily," said Harry thoughtfully. "Alright, we'll try it. Calvin, you use water again; John; try a stream of air. Both ought to do the trick."
Mr. Hopkins looked skeptical, but he raised his wand alongside his son. Together they sent two jets of water and air at the wall, creating a chaotic swirl of sharp water droplets pelting the stone. Harry raised his own wand at the same spot and yelled, "Tempus maxima!"
Nothing seemed to happen, but when Calvin used his Sight, he saw a stream of circular symbols emitting from Harry's wand. He recognized it from Eva's presentation: Time. It seemed to accelerate the impact of the water and air upon the wall; Calvin was forced to avert his eyes as the splash back peppered his face in painful spurts.
"It's working!" Mr. Hopkins said in amazement. Calvin glanced back at the wall, where sure enough, a hole was beginning to form. The stone was chipping away, bit by bit, as the streams of water, air and pure time acted against it. At Harry's urging, they moved their stream in a slow circular motion around the hole, carving out the edges until it was large enough to climb through. They all dropped their wands at once, gaping at the sudden opening that had appeared – centuries' worth of erosion done in just over a minute.
"That's the kind of thinking we needed, Calvin!" Harry said, clapping the boy on the back. Calvin felt a rush of pride at the compliment, beaming towards his father, who begrudgingly nodded his own acknowledgment. "Now come; we mustn't delay."
Harry led the way into the castle, squeezing through the opening that led into a narrow hallway. Calvin went second, peering up and down the rows of what appeared to be empty prison cells. It was eerily quiet inside – nowhere near the chaotic environment he'd anticipated. Were there no guards stationed here to watch this prisoner on the loose?
"Right, here's the plan," Harry said. "You two stay here and guard the exit. Secure the wing, but don't stray too far. I'll head north and try to locate the prisoner."
"What if we come across him first?" asked Mr. Hopkins.
"Send a Patronus for me," said Harry. "And aim to stun, not to kill. Sit tight; this shouldn't take long." And Harry took off down the row, rounding a corner and disappearing from sight.
"Stay right behind me," Mr. Hopkins said firmly, wand aimed down the opposite end of the row. "We move slowly and silently, and you do not act unless I do so first."
"We can cover more ground if we split up," Calvin offered, indicating another branching corridor to their left. "We shouldn't leave an open lane to the exit—"
"Dammit, Calvin!" his father roared, rounding on his son. "You shouldn't even be here. It's my job to fight dangerous people, but your mother will never forgive me if anything happened to you. And I'll never forgive myself."
"Quit making this about yourself!" Calvin protested. "I can handle myself just fine."
"This is not up for negotiation," said Mr. Hopkins. "We stick together, and that's that."
Calvin wanted to argue, but decided it best not to. "Fine," he muttered. "But if this prisoner escapes, it's your fault."
"I'd rather he escaped than something happened to you," said Mr. Hopkins. And judging from the choked emotion in his voice, Calvin knew it was the truth. So he obediently stuck close to his father as they scanned the rows, peering inside each empty cell as they passed by.
"Blimey, these wards are intricate," Calvin muttered, as they passed cell after cell filled with complex runes.
"Someone's been adding to them for years," Mr. Hopkins remarked. "If they'd thought to protect against erosion, they might have held forever."
"Thank Merlin for that, then," Calvin chuckled as they rounded a corner. Mr. Hopkins froze beside him; Calvin immediately scanned for the danger. He couldn't see anybody else with them – no sign of this mysterious prisoner they were looking for. But then he saw it: a small, hunched figure, half-obscured behind an open cell door, glaring malevolently up at them.
"Intruders!" croaked the house-elf. "Yous will pay! Sora must stop you!"
"Peace, elf—" Mr. Hopkins said placatingly, but immediately found himself on the defensive as the elf snapped his fingers, sending a blast of energy at them. Calvin dove for cover in a nearby cell as his father hastily raised a shield, deflecting the worst of the elf magic.
"We're on your side!" Mr. Hopkins bellowed, forced to block a bevy of incoming spells from the house-elf.
"You is not Mistress!" the elf protested. "Sora is not to trust anyone besides Mistress!"
"Who is your Mistress?" Mr. Hopkins demanded. "We can work together, elf!"
Calvin peered around the corner towards the elf, who was hurling spells indiscriminately at his father. Calvin raised his wand and aimed it at the diminutive creature. "Stupefy!" he yelled.
"Calvin, no!" his father yelled, but it was too late. The elf's eyes darted towards Calvin as his Stunning Spell rocketed towards it; the elf batted it aside with ease.
"Yous attacked a guard of Nurmengard," the elf said menacingly. "Sora is now permitted to use deadly force. Die, intruder!"
"Calvin, run!" Mr. Hopkins shouted. But Calvin was frozen, transfixed, as the elf raised both of his hands, fingers crackling with electricity, and thrust them forwards towards him…
Many things then happened in the same moment. Calvin watched, seemingly in slow-motion, as the bolts of electric energy rushed towards him. He instinctively fired the first spell he could think of: Aguamenti, jets of water rushing forward to meet the lightning. Simultaneously, a silvery shield appeared between him and the elf, but he hadn't been the one to cast it. The lightning crashed against the barrier, as the water hit the elf square in the face. Charged by the electric currents running through it, the water collided with a loud ZAP, and the elf toppled over backward, dead, smoking and twitching lightly from the impact.
"That was close," Calvin muttered, turning back to his father. His stomach dropped when he saw him: collapsed in a heap, also twitching violently. The shield he'd raised to protect his son had left him open to the lightning himself, and he'd been struck across the chest, his robes smoldering from the strike. Calvin saw the deep gashes in his father's skin, the charred outline of the elf magic marking him from shoulder to hip.
"Dad...no!" Calvin gasped, falling to his knees. He was rubbish at Healing magic, and didn't know the first thing about treating elf wounds. His father stared at him with wide eyes, grasping at him with his free hand, which Calvin took.
"Get Potter," Mr. Hopkins rasped. "Quickly."
"Dad, don't leave me…!" Calvin wailed in fear. But his father merely pierced him with a fierce gaze, imploring him.
"Get Potter, now," he ordered. "Save yourself...if you must." And Mr. Hopkins' head fell back to the stone, eyes drifting in and out of focus, breathing shallow...he didn't have long to live…
Calvin snapped out of his panic and stood. He did not know how to cast a Patronus Charm – his only hope was to find the Headmaster, and fast. He took off in a dead sprint, heading north, hoping that he was going in the right direction. The twisting corridors seemed designed to disorient him; he was no longer sure which way was which, picking intersections at random, just praying he was going the right way…
After a few turns, he stumbled over another tiny body: a second house-elf, staring lifelessly to the ceiling. He didn't know whether this was good or bad news – had the prisoner been through here, or Harry? There was no use in ruminating on it now. He could only barrel ahead, hoping to find Harry before the worst could happen…
Calvin heard voices ahead and slowed his pace, moving forward at a light jog. Harry had been alone, hadn't he? Did the prisoner have other inmates with whom to scheme his escape? In any case, he instinctively knew something was wrong as he approached. Wand at the ready, he peered around the bend of the next turn, and gaped at what he saw.
Harry Potter was there, standing at the foot of a spiral staircase. But he was not alone. He was talking to another man: older, bald, with loose-fitting clothing barely covering an emaciated frame. Was this the prisoner they were so concerned about? Or perhaps another guard, discussing strategies to corner the dangerous man? He looked vaguely familiar to Calvin, but he couldn't quite place him.
Calvin strained to listen in on their conversation. "...Tom, my friend," Harry was saying. "How do you feel?"
"Weak," the older man chuckled with a smile. "Though stronger by the minute. I feel my magic returning to me as we speak."
"I told you this day would soon come," Harry said, clapping the man on the shoulder. "Are you prepared to do what we discussed?"
"I am," said the man. "I will be forever grateful for what you've done."
"We shall right this wrong together," Harry nodded. "Until then, rest up, recover your strength, and cause as much mayhem as you can get away with."
The man flashed a toothy, yellow smile at Harry. "I can certainly do that," he laughed.
The man's eyes suddenly darted to his right, to where Calvin was peeking around the corner at them. Calvin's heart dropped as he realized where he recognized the man from: the most feared wizard of the age, a man he'd believed to be dead nearly all his life. Yet here he stood, in the flesh, looking worn down but very much alive: Lord Voldemort.
"H-Headmaster?" Calvin stammered, coming out into the open. "What's happening?"
Voldemort looked at Harry, who beckoned in the opposite direction. "Southeast corner," Harry muttered. "There's a gap in the wall." And with a final, malicious look at the boy, Voldemort turned into black smoke, racing down the halls, presumably towards the exit Calvin had created.
"Sir? What is this?" Calvin asked. Then, remembering the reason he'd come: "My father's been injured...you must come quickly—"
Calvin was knocked backwards before he even registered Harry's wand move; his arms and legs snapped together, and he smacked into the floor, pinned by a full Body-Bind Curse. Bewildered, he watched as Harry approached, standing over the boy, looking troubled.
"I truly am sorry about this, Calvin," Harry grimaced, pointing his wand into Calvin's face. "But you should not have seen what you just saw, and now you know far too much. Avada..."
So this is how it ends, Calvin thought desperately. Betrayed by the one man I believed I could trust.
I just wish I could see Evangeline one last time.
And he prepared himself for death.
But the jet of green light he expected did not come. Harry paused, wand arm shaking, head twitching slightly as he stared down upon the defenseless boy at his feet. "He doesn't deserve this," he muttered.
Does he expect a response? Calvin wondered, confused. He was unable to say anything under the Body-Bind, after all. But Harry seemed to be talking to someone else entirely, someone unseen.
"No, he doesn't," Harry snapped. "He wouldn't...yes, I know that. No, I agree, Eva mustn't find out. But there are other— Listen to me! He doesn't have to die!"
Calvin watched on, horrified, as Harry seemingly argued with himself, clearly anguished by whatever was playing out inside his head. Menacing sparks zapped from the end of Harry's wand as his arm trembled, fighting against some unseen assailant…
"Yes, that will do," Harry nodded. "My daughter is fond of him, and I wouldn't want her to— No, yes, of course, we wouldn't want that. It is the only way."
What is happening? Calvin wondered. Was Harry bartering for his life? Or was he the one fighting to see him killed? He wasn't sure which option terrified him more.
"Very well," Harry said with a heavy sigh. His arm finally stopped shaking, and his eyes snapped back to Calvin. To the boy's horror, the normally-green eyes glinted red, similar to Voldemort's. Harry pointed his wand between his eyes again, and Calvin braced for the worst—
"Obliviate!"