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HP: Fantastic Beasts And The Right Way To Use Them - 261
🕑 Added 2025-11-10 19:24:51 +0000 UTCChapter 261: Evans the Demolitions Genius
"Exhale."
Tossing the sphere lightly in his hand, Evans replayed the process of striking a bargain with the Dark Wizard King and let out a slow breath.
In the end, she hadn’t chosen a binding oath. Instead, she drew the black mist into this sphere and told him to carry it with him—a condition he found mildly troublesome.
She had promised she couldn’t freely spy on the outside world from within the sphere and wouldn’t violate his privacy. But a soul-binding contract could, at least in theory, be broken; carrying someone around, on the other hand, made it rather hard to simply dispose of them.
Still, he had given his word to search for Merlin. He hadn’t planned to go back on it anyway.
He was curious himself—about what tied him to Merlin, and what had truly caused his transmigration and his gift.
As for finding leads, he had several avenues in mind.
Hogwarts’ library would hold a wealth of material on Merlin; diligent reading should yield progress.
There was also the portrait in Slytherin’s common room that was said to be of Merlin. The man in it always faced away and never spoke, but it was an excellent point of entry.
If that portrait truly was Merlin’s, then showing it in this sphere would surely provoke a reaction—and a few answers.
And he could try taking the sphere to the seal deep within the Forbidden Forest—
"Chiu!"
A phoenix’s gentle cry sounded in his ear. Evans turned to see Fawkes already perched at his shoulder. Tears spilled from the phoenix’s eyes, dropping onto the arm that had carried Erumpent venom through its veins, mending the hidden damage left by his bluff against the Dark Wizard King.
"Thanks." Evans stroked Fawkes’s head, and the thought that had crossed his mind a hundred times rose again.
Maybe it was worth considering—find a way to get rid of Dumbledore and keep Fawkes?
Phoenix tears were unrivalled. In barely ten seconds, his arm was restored, not a whisper of pain remaining.
He flexed his fingers, satisfied the limb was sound, and started to rise—only for the phoenix on his shoulder to call again.
"Chiu."
"Here?" Surprise flickered in Evans’s eyes. He glanced around, then nodded, thoughtful.
"A meaningful choice."
At his words, a human smile seemed to pass across Fawkes’s face. The phoenix took wing, beating harder and climbing higher.
Its eyes roved the scene, as though trying to fix every detail in memory. Flames flowed over its body, gathering at the tail.
Moments later, with a bright cry, the phoenix’s last tail feather slipped free. Fire wrapped around it, and it burned fiercely.
At the instant the feather ignited, everyone felt their spirits lift. Even the Aurors, who had collapsed from exhaustion, opened their eyes and cleared a little. The surge faded almost as quickly as it came, and calm returned, but those who’d woken did not sink back into unconsciousness.
When it was done, Fawkes dropped from the air. The phoenix’s magical aura was fading visibly—rebirth’s final stage had begun.
It would be weak for half a month, then burn and be reborn.
Evans caught Fawkes, murmured to it, and returned it gently to the suitcase. As he straightened, a cool tingle brushed the back of his left hand.
He was about to check it when Charlie’s voice rose behind him, tinged with awe.
"Did you blow that pyramid to bits?"
Charlie’s face shone with excitement. He’d just watched the pyramid collapse from start to finish.
There was no way he’d believe Evans had nothing to do with it.
Evans had a history with demolition. The first poacher camps they found in the Forbidden Forest. That pure-blood manor in the seventh year that was "accidentally" flattened. The old Egyptian Ministry site that still hadn’t been rebuilt.
His reputation in Egypt wasn’t entirely rumor.
Hearing Charlie, the already-nervous Aurors looked even more terrified.
They’d drained themselves just holding off mist that hadn’t fully formed into monsters, dropping one by one. This man had walked alone into a pyramid filled with unknown horrors, returned unscathed—and erased the entire structure?
They remembered the site of the former Ministry, shattered beyond the reach of Reparo, and shuddered, huddling closer, then simply bunching into one trembling knot.
If they had to pick a Dark Lord, it would be this man right here.
Feeling his reputation dipping even further into the abyss, Evans shrugged, helpless.
"This time, it wasn’t mostly me—"
He glanced at the terrified Aurors clutching each other and let the explanation die.
Once an image is set in stone, it rarely shifts.
He didn’t come to Egypt often anyway. Let them talk if they had to; it wasn’t as though he’d lose anything.
With that, Evans stood and looked back at the group.
"I’ll be leaving shortly. If you want to investigate what happened, do it. If not, that’s fine too."
Before the woman had sunk into the sphere, he’d asked about the pyramid’s rules. Her answer: only Merlin—or the direct descendants of her strongest warriors—could awaken it.
If the latter awakened it, the cost would be their lives.
He doubted anyone would hear of the Hunting Association again.
Evans shook his head and turned to greet his Egyptian friends.
He wouldn’t be staying long. After catching up, he had to return. Hagrid could cover lessons for a while, but fifth and seventh year exams were looming. With last year’s results, the Ministry would likely raise the difficulty for Care of Magical Creatures this year.
He had work to do to keep the pass rate at one hundred percent.
Also… why had the back of his hand felt cool since a moment ago?
He glanced at his left hand—and froze, joy rising bright and irrepressible in his eyes.
On the back of his hand, a pale blue mark had begun to glow softly, shining like the surface of a clear spring.
