August 9, 1990
Disgusted was an understatement to describe how he felt at the moment. The words and descriptions narrated by the book, now pushed away from his personal space, were repulsive. "Dark Transfigurations: A Complete Guide" focused primarily on the most horrendous human transfigurations to be applied. Turning eyes into sharp needles, transfiguring an enemy's skin into acid and their bones into glass were just some of the spells compiled in this monstrous guide.
He turned the pages with growing revulsion, finding more examples of unimaginable cruelty: transfiguring someone's tongue into a venomous snake that attacked them from within, turning lungs into boiling water, making hair transform into perpetual fire, and changing fingers into twisted daggers. Each spell seemed more macabre and sadistic than the last, designed to inflict maximum pain and suffering.
Eamon slammed the book shut, trying to calm the turmoil in his stomach. He had spent his days reviewing the volumes he had found in the hidden section of the library, all filled with magic to cause harm or gain something at the expense of another's sacrifice, and none had contained the information he needed.
He had only found a few references in two books: "Rituals of the Night: Magic and Sacrifices" was a theoretical book that compiled uses of rituals in the dark arts and contained an entry about enchantments that made a sacrifice more suitable for participation. However, it only mentioned the existence of Somnus Descensus, as well as a few others, but did not explain how to cast them or the specific effects they caused.
The other was "The Soul's Curse: Forbidden Enchantments." This book listed various enchantments designed to affect a person's very essence, describing their names and effects superficially without providing detailed instructions on how to use them. Although it gave an overview of these enchantments, it did not mention the spell he sought, leaving Eamon frustrated and without a clear guide to proceed.
With no other options, Eamon decided he would have to go to Gringotts to retrieve the tomes Percival had left there. He wanted to avoid it due to the trip's inconveniences. 'God, I wish Apparition could be learned from a book,' Eamon thought, frustrated by his lack of discreet means to travel.
With a sigh, he headed to the desk in the center of the library. A plan began to form in his mind, but he would need a few things for it to work... a memory crossed his mind; he thought he had read what he needed. As if responding to his need, the family book appeared before him, its pages ready to be consulted. Eamon opened it and began to flip through the pages, searching for the accounting section.
Finding it, a smile formed on his lips when he saw the figure indicating his family's wealth: 3,517,816 Galleons, 150,565 Sickles, and 23,749 Knuts. He didn't know the exact purchasing power, but if a wand cost 7 Galleons, he could only assume he was incredibly rich.
The smile on his face faded into sadness as he contemplated that number. He had fought tooth and nail to make his wealth in his past life, not for himself, but for the people he loved, ensuring they were well and that he could leave in peace. Every sacrifice and every difficult decision had been made to protect and provide for those he cared about. But now, seeing that vast sum, he felt empty. All that money, and he couldn't buy what he truly needed: the peace he had long sought.
His mind began to fill with dark memories, moments when he had felt his life had no value, that his achievements meant nothing if he himself couldn't find peace. He remembered sleepless nights, moments of despair when he had considered giving up, and how only the promise of ensuring others' well-being had kept him going. Now, in this new life, those same demons pursued him, mocking his effort to find a new path.
The pain in his chest grew, a knot of anxiety and hopelessness threatening to choke him. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, struggling not to be dragged down by that abyss of sadness. He couldn't follow that train of thought. This was his second chance; he had a magical world at his disposal, and he was going to make the most of it. He forced himself to concentrate; that number wasn't what he came here for.
"This is not the time for this," he told himself. "Focus." With renewed determination, he flipped through the pages, looking for the list of artifacts detailed in the vault. Finally, he found it.
"This might work," he murmured to himself, clinging to that small glimmer of hope and purpose.
From his portrait, Percival observed. "What's going on?" he asked, noticing Eamon's expression.
Eamon looked up from the family book and replied, "Since I haven't found anything about the spell here, I'll have to go to Gringotts. But I have some problems to solve before I can do that."
"What problems?" inquired Lucian, always attentive to details.
"For starters, I understand that underage wizards can't do magic. That rule should apply to me now that I've received the Hogwarts letter. Also, I can't just walk through Diagon Alley carrying who knows how many dark books. And, to top it off, I don't have any discreet means of transportation," Eamon explained, feeling the weight of each obstacle.
Selene exchanged a look with the other portraits before speaking. "The Ministry of Magic only registers the magic of underage wizards once they become Hogwarts students. They do it when they place the enchantment on the boats while arriving at the school."
Eamon frowned. "So, what happens with parents who homeschool their children, as our family did?"
"Usually, someone from the Misuse of Magic Office would place the spell on homeschooled children," explained Selene. "Alaric was the only one born after that decree was implemented, but since they didn't know where we were, they couldn't do it." She chuckled to herself. "Even if they had placed it, the protections of this place would have prevented it from working."
"I understand," Eamon said, relieved. "So, technically, I can use magic without worrying about that."
"Correct," affirmed Alaric.
"Now, about the problem of carrying dark books through Diagon Alley," Eamon continued. "I've found a solution in the family book's accounting section. There's a magically expanded suitcase in the family vault that I can use to carry what I need."
Julian, with a severe tone, intervened. "Be careful with that suitcase. It once belonged to me, and it was complicated to make."
Eamon noticed the tension in Julian's voice and hurried to reassure him. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of it. But could you explain to me how it works or what I need to do?"
Julian looked at him sideways, letting a few seconds pass before responding, visibly still upset. Finally, he spoke. "The suitcase is enchanted to have two separate spaces. One is for storage, and the other is a resting room. I created it for my travels after my basic studies. It works similarly to the zones in this library through intention. You have to grab the suitcase handle and think about which of the two rooms you want to access. I think I left some shelves in the storage area, and the magic of the books will be undetectable there."
"Perfect, that solves one of the problems," Eamon said, trying to ease the tension in the room.
"And for the problem of discreet transportation..." began Selene, her voice filling the space.
"I'll use the Knight Bus," said Eamon, resigned. "It's not ideal, but it will serve my purpose."
Selene nodded slowly, and the portraits exchanged approving looks. With the plan in motion, he headed towards the family symbol engraved on the floor.
Following the instructions he already knew, he raised his wand and traced the "X" pattern in the air, concentrating his thoughts on changing the zone. The shelves with books began to fade, and the room itself seemed to reconfigure.
Before him, a new section appeared, with a large rune carved into the wall. The rune had an intricate shape, resembling a spiral with intersecting lines that glowed with a soft, steady light. Eamon approached, knowing precisely what to do. With a decisive wave of his wand, the rune shone brightly, revealing a small hidden door in the wall.
Opening the door, Eamon entered the family vault, an endless room. Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts, along with multiple objects and artifacts, floated around. At first glance, he couldn't count the countless objects and coins floating in the air. He knew Selene created many of those artifacts as part of her research, but he was unaware of their functions. He would have to ask her another time.
To his right, a small perch held a purple cord bag with small white specks, similar to the enchantment on the ceiling in the main section of the library. He had read in the family book how the vault worked: these bags were enchanted to be used as endless purses, although they were only designed to store magical money. Anything else placed in them would be lost forever. He decided to take one of the bags.
In the center of the vault stood a podium. With determined steps, Eamon walked towards it. The objects and coins actively avoided him, moving out of his way. Upon reaching it, he placed his wand on the podium, feeling a mix of anticipation and respect for the power emanating from that place.
"Two hundred Galleons and some change in Sickles and Knuts," he said aloud.
The coins flew from all directions, forming in front of the podium. He opened the small bag, and suddenly, they all began to pour into it until he thought it was enough. With that done, he proceeded to request what he was really looking for.
"Enchanted suitcase," he pronounced firmly.
From the depths of the room, an enchanted suitcase flew towards him, responding to his call. The suitcase was made of dark leather, with intricate engravings on its surface that seemed to move subtly under the light. It had a sturdy handle and aged bronze clasps.
He was almost ready; he just needed one more thing from this room. With one last command, he said, "Gringotts key."
A small wooden box flew towards him from the depths of the vault. Opening it, he found the Gringotts key. It was ancient, with intricate engravings.
With the suitcase in hand and the key secured, Eamon exited the vault, his thoughts already focused on the next steps he needed to take.
August 10, 1990
Eamon took a deep breath before knocking on Director Collins' office door. It had always seemed like an orderly and cozy refuge to him. He remembered entering there several times over the years, each occasion marked by the director's patience and warmth.
"Come in," said the director's firm voice from inside.
He opened the door and entered. Although he had visited the office many times over the years, this place always reminded him of the time he sneaked in here when he knew nothing about who he was in this new life.
The place had remained almost unchanged over time. The director still kept the files on the left, along with the list of the orphanage's children hanging in the corner of the wall. The sturdy dark wood desk was still in the center, covered with papers, inkwells, and a meticulously placed feather pen. The walls were still adorned with diplomas and recognitions, witnesses to Director Collins' commitment and dedication.
He had never discovered why the list had more names than he knew; that mystery had been relegated in his mind by more urgent concerns. Maybe someday he would find an excuse to ask about the inconsistency.
Director Collins greeted him with a warm smile from behind her desk. "Eamon, excited about your new school?" she asked, looking at him curiously.
"Yes, happy to have been accepted," Eamon replied, taking a seat in front of her. "But I'll also miss everyone here at the orphanage."
The director nodded, understanding his sentiment. "Well, it's not like you spent much time here," she commented with a playful smile. "If we count all the times you went missing and the times you suddenly appeared out of nowhere in one of the hallways."
Eamon felt a slight nervousness but hid it well. "I don't know what you're talking about; I'm always here," he said, trying to sound convincing.
Director Collins let out a small laugh. "Almost all the staff are aware that you're rarely here, Eamon, even if no one has found you outside the orphanage when you shouldn't be. You should see how Mr. Thompson gets when he tries to figure out where you are; it's simply hilarious."
Eamon felt a bit more relaxed upon hearing the director's laugh. "Why did you never say anything?" he asked, genuinely curious.
The director looked at him with a mix of affection and understanding. "You've always been such an independent child, so mature. Many of the children here grow up quickly, even if we try to give them the best childhood we can, but you rarely acted like a child, asking for little or absolutely nothing, solving any situation on your own," she explained. "I guess I didn't see the need. You arrived when you were supposed to be here, and I trusted that wouldn't change."
Eamon nodded, appreciating Director Collins' words. He felt a bit more comfortable but knew he needed to focus on the reason for his visit.
"Thank you, director," he said with a small smile. "I appreciate that you've trusted me all this time."
Director Collins returned the smile. "I've always believed in you, Eamon. I know you have a great future ahead of you."
Eamon took a deep breath. "Well, about that future... I actually wanted to talk to you about something important."
The director tilted her head, curious. "What is it, Eamon?"
"I received the letter from Hogwarts, as you know, and I'm very excited to attend. But before starting, there's something I'd like to do," he explained, choosing his words carefully.
"What is that?" the director asked, interested.
"I'd like to take a week to attend a special tour the school organizes before the term starts. It's an opportunity to familiarize myself with the environment and get to know my future classmates better," said Eamon, hoping his explanation sounded convincing.
Director Collins looked at him intently, considering his words. "A special tour, eh? That sounds interesting. And how did you find out about this?"
Eamon felt a knot in his stomach, quickly searching for a convincing answer. "They mentioned it in the Hogwarts letter. It's optional, but I think it would be very beneficial for me," he replied, trying to remain calm.
The director nodded slowly but still seemed doubtful. "I understand. But why didn't Professor Sprout mention this in our conversation? Also, I would need more information to let you go."
Eamon felt the pressure increase. He knew he didn't have all the answers and that convincing the director would be difficult. With a pang of guilt, he decided he had no other choice. With a subtle movement, he murmured the Confundus spell under his breath without using his wand.
"Surely Professor Sprout mentioned it, director. And don't worry, I'll meet her at the train station. She will take care of everything I need," he said with a calm but insistent voice.
Director Collins seemed to hesitate momentarily, her expression a bit confused. Then she nodded slowly. "Of course, Eamon. I think it's a great idea for you to attend that tour. Make sure to make the most of it and have fun."
Eamon felt a more intense pang of guilt, but he knew he had no other choice. "Thank you, director. I promise I'll do my best to learn and prepare well."
With that, he stood up and said goodbye, feeling a bit more relieved to have the director's approval, albeit induced.
He headed to his room to pack his things and prepare for the trip. Upon entering, he found Henry sitting on his bed, curiously looking at one of Eamon's few belongings.
"Henry," Eamon said, smiling at his friend. "Did you visit Carol yesterday?"
Henry nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, I went to see her. I left some cookies on the desk if you want. She asked when you would come by."
He smiled as he began gathering some things from his room. "I'll find time to go see her at some point. I'm glad to know she's doing well."
Henry watched him closely, noticing that he was packing some things. "Are you going somewhere?"
He nodded while carefully folding a shirt. "Yes, I'm going away for a week. I have some important things to do."
"Important? Like what?" Henry asked, curious.
Eamon stopped and looked at his friend, considering his words. "It's complicated, Henry. Remember what I told you about us being special, right?"
Henry nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, although you haven't told me anything more," he said, with a hint of curiosity in his voice.
Eamon knelt in front of Henry, placing a hand on his shoulder. "This is part of that, Henry. It's important that I prepare well. But I promise I'll come back and tell you more when I can."
Henry frowned, clearly uneasy. "When are you going to tell me more?"
He hesitated for a moment, weighing what and how much to say. Finally, he stood up, determined. He grabbed his magical suitcase, concentrating on the storage room. He placed the suitcase on the floor and opened it, then turned to his trunk where he kept his Hogwarts things.
He took out his wand and, with a quick "Reducio," shrank the trunk. Then he turned around, only to see Henry's surprised face.
"Eamon, what just...?" Henry began to say, his eyes wide with surprise.
Eamon smiled. "Come," he said as he headed towards the suitcase with the shrunken trunk and began to descend into it.
Henry stood there, astonished, watching as Eamon disappeared inside the suitcase. A few seconds passed as Henry remained motionless until he saw Eamon's head reemerge.
"Are you coming, or will you keep catching flies with your mouth?" Eamon asked with a smile.
Still stunned by what he had just witnessed, Henry followed Eamon into the suitcase. Once inside, he heard the suitcase close automatically with a soft "click." He turned his head and saw how white smoke covered the entrance at the beginning of the stairs, sealing the magical room.
The room was an incredible place, a mix of a workshop and a magical library. The tall, majestic shelves were empty, but they subtly moved, adjusting and reorganizing themselves as if waiting to be filled with knowledge and magical objects at any moment.
The floor was covered with a plush, ancient carpet woven with intricate patterns that seemed to change slightly with each step. In one corner was a sturdy desk with a comfortable chair, both of dark wood and adorned with magical engravings that glowed softly. Various notes and scrolls were scattered on the desk, along with some ancient-looking books.
In the center of the room was a resting area with a couple of comfortable armchairs and a small table, perfect for sitting and reading. The lighting came from floating lamps that emitted a warm, soft light, creating a cozy and magical atmosphere.
Henry looked around with wide eyes, marveling at the place's magic. "This place is incredible," he murmured, still in awe. How is it possible to have an entire world in your suitcase?"
Eamon chuckled softly. "It's not an entire world, just an incredibly large room."
Henry continued to marvel as the empty shelves moved and reorganized themselves. "It's like everything here has a life of its own."
"It would seem so, wouldn't it? The shelves adjust automatically to offer what you need."
Henry approached one of the armchairs and touched it in amazement. "This is incredible. I've never seen anything like it."
"We are special, Henry. There's a lot I have to tell you."
Henry looked at him expectantly. "When are you going to tell me more?"
"Soon, but I can't explain everything in detail now," Eamon replied, seeing the impatience in his friend's eyes. "I need you to keep your nose clean. Don't get into too much trouble while I'm away."
Henry nodded, a bit disappointed. "I'll try, but I want to know more."
Eamon knelt in front of him again. "I'll tell you everything in due time, but you must keep this a secret. I don't want you to get into trouble you can't get out of."
Henry nodded, his eyes still filled with wonder. "I promise, Eamon. I won't tell anyone."
Eamon felt a palpable relief upon hearing Henry's promise. "Thank you, mate. Now, I need to finish getting ready."
Henry nodded again, watching with fascination as Eamon prepared everything necessary for his trip.
Once he finished preparing everything, he looked at Henry and said, "It's time to go."
Henry nodded and followed Eamon to the stairs. As they climbed, they approached the mysterious white mist that covered the entrance. With a wave of Eamon's wand, the mist surrounded them, and the room above appeared as if they were standing right where the suitcase was.
Eamon looked around and, seeing no one, waved his wand again. The mist began to disappear.
"All clear," Eamon said, looking at Henry. "Let's go."
As they both exited, they heard the suitcase close automatically with a soft "click," as if it had a life of its own and knew its task was complete.
Eamon picked up the suitcase and gave Henry one last look. "Remember, keep this a secret. See you soon."
Henry nodded with determination. "I will, Eamon. Take care."
With the suitcase and Henry's promise secured, Eamon headed towards the orphanage's exit, ready for the journey ahead.