End-of-year reviews came and went.
The Triwizard Tournament had taken no lives — no small thing, considering where it usually ended. The House Cup was set aside this year; nobody had the stomach for it. Instead, Dumbledore stood at the front of the Great Hall and said, plainly and with no flourishes, that Voldemort had returned, that the evidence of this was not in doubt, and that Hogwarts would be doing what Hogwarts had always done: providing the safest ground they had.
He said it the way he said most true things — warmly, without excessive drama, in a way that somehow made it feel more serious than drama would have.
Then the Beauxbatons carriages rolled, and the Durmstrang ship dove, and the year was over.
Kevin stood in the courtyard watching the last of the foreign students disappear and tried to make sense of the notification.
[Ding! Host has completed and altered the Goblet of Fire storyline. Reward: Free Attribute Points +10. Free Talent Points +5.]
[Host has altered the fated death of Cedric Diggory. Reward: …h… tsk… The Host is now under the Gaze of Death.]
[Gaze of Death: In non-combat states, the Host is subject to persistent misfortune.]
He stared at it for a long moment.
Then the wall torch fell on his head.
He heard Ron losing it somewhere to his left. He rubbed his skull and thought it through.
Bad luck. Not combat-lethal — but in the wrong moment, in the wrong context, a tripped step or a misfired charm could ruin everything. He needed to map this carefully.
He looked at his status panel.
Kevin Croft (Gaze of Death) Constitution: 30 / Magic: 40 / Intelligence: 30 Charm Talent: 38 / Potion Talent: 17 / Alchemy Talent: 7 / Flight Talent: 3 Available Attribute Points: 10 / Available Talent Points: 5
The tag. Right there after his name. Not a temporary debuff — just sitting there, permanent, with no obvious mechanism for removal.
The "Gaze of Death" note was an annotation to his life now.
He assigned all ten attribute points to Constitution. Forty-forty across the board. The solidness of it helped his mood fractionally.
"Ron," he said. "Duel me."
Ron looked at him. "...What?"
"Just do it. On and off. Keep me in combat mode."
Harry immediately took a half-step away from Kevin.
"Harry, you're fine."
"A bird just shat on my head because I was standing next to you, Kevin."
"That was a coincidence."
"Under Veritaserum, a coincidence would still count as a truth."
Hermione appeared, already reading his face. She crossed to him, stood on her toes, and kissed his cheek before anyone could comment on it.
Nothing happened. No falling objects. No bird interventions.
Kevin brightened immediately. "Hermione, again — just to confirm the—"
She kicked his shin. He fell silent.
Harry and Ron exchanged a look and carefully did not say anything.
Kevin sat with the problem of the Gaze of Death long after everyone had dispersed. He had saved Cedric. He hadn't regretted it for a moment and didn't plan to start now. But Death, apparently, kept accounts.
He thought about Sirius. About Dumbledore's hand, the blackened ruined one he'd seen in the films that came from destroying a cursed Horcrux. Those were future saves. If each one added to whatever ledger Death was keeping—
He shelved it. There was no useful action he could take right now. Speculation wasn't strategy.
He'd learn Occlumency at a higher level. He'd stay in combat-ready form as much as possible. He'd be careful in the moments when he couldn't be.
It wasn't enough. It would have to do.
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