He made it sound so simple. Maybe it was. Sure, there were things he could tell himself. He had no choice. He was only one person. The Dark Lord would only have replaced him with someone else. But there was no justifying it to Harry.
Kalmar let his sleeve fall back into place. The condemnation hurt more than he’d thought it possibly could.
They’d offered him a lot of things. Power, respect, money. Knowledge. There was even talk of giving his entire family clemency after they took over, of investing in treatment for maledictions like anybody who cared about purebloods would. There’d been no shortage of carrots to wave in front of his face, if he ever started to waver. He wasn’t sure he would have resisted any one of them.
He burst into laughter tinged with hysteria. “No, no, not quite. You know what?” Might as well be hated for what he actually was, for once. “It’s far worse than that. I knew I could get it elsewhere.”
“You want to know why this happened? What I’m sacrificing innocent lives for? This wasn’t some scheme I thought up in that genius fucking head of mine, Harry. No, it was – it was my aunt’s idea. She was already making inquiries for me. Thought it would be a brilliant opportunity – hell, she was right! – and I thought, she’ll be livid if I’m not interested, and I – I didn’t want to have to say no. I didn’t want to make things awkward. That’s all. That’s the sort of coward I am.”
Harry’s eyes widened at Kalmar’s laugh. It sounded terrifying and unhinged and for a split second he was worried for Kalmar. The worry quickly evaporated when the other kept explaining. Harry once again asked himself whether it would have been easier not to know why Kalmar acted like he did.
He felt reminded of Wormtail, in a sense that the rat too had been sorted into Gryffindor but had turned out to be a coward. Kalmar called himself one and how was that possible? The sorting hat was surely never mistaken? It listened to the person’s wishes, had put Harry into Gryffindor when he begged not to be sorted into Slytherin, so what was up with Kalmar? Did he ask to be in Gryffindor but would have fit better elsewhere?
Or was he lying again? Whatever it was, Harry had to think ahead and see how he can get out of this situation. With Kalmar branded, he was under an obligation to deliver Harry to Voldemort. Surely the other boy didn’t feel like getting punished for failing. So Harry pointed his wand at him, eyes narrowed. “Now what? Are you going to attack me? Stun me and drag me to your boss? I’m not going to let you do that.”
But...what would happen to Kalmar if Harry resisted? Defeated him and got away? And why did Harry care? Kalmar had betrayed him, he shouldn’t care what happened to him. Harry was angry at himself in that moment, angry at how easily he grew attached to people who he considered a friend.
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