As Calvin took a seat in the chair that he’d been offered, he smiled in regards to the nickname that he’d been given. Calvin had always been rather fond of the character when he'd read of Huck in his younger years, being the muggle enthusiast that he was, and could do nothing to prevent the pride that had overwhelmed him upon being compared to the lad. “I don’t mind it,” Calvin replied a bit too hastily, and thus making his fondness towards the nickname quite evident. “Though, I really don’t like getting in to as much trouble as I have today. That,” Calvin threw his thumb behind himself in a gesture towards their past location, “was not any kind of adventure that I would like. It was scary!” Calvin shivered visibly at the thought of the afternoon’s occurrences, spastically flailing his limbs about where he sat.
“No! Oh, please don’t make me do that again!” Calvin shouted, bringing his hands up in front of himself in a defensive position, though he did not believe the fellow before him to be a threat. “Apperating is dangerous, sir,” Calvin elaborated, so to make certain that his terror was not mistaken for disrespect towards the man who had so kindly assisted him. “You can get splinched by moving around like that. I never learned how to apperate at school, because I am too scared of losing an arm – you know, like that guy from the newspaper did. My father told me about him, so to make sure that I knew how dangerous apperating is. He said that the poor man lost his arm!” Calvin absentmindedly gripped his shoulder, and held it tight in one hand as he spoke of the ghastly accident.
Calvin’s brown orbs lit with excitement as Michael introduced himself. It was always such a pleasant surprise to meet another of Chase’s extensive family. “You are related to Chase?” Calvin’s hand darted forward, so to shake Michael’s. “It’s nice to meet you, sir!” he squeaked excitedly, smiling from ear to ear.
But in the traditional behavior of Calvin’s inconsistent moods, he found himself feeling frightened once more, rather than excited. Calvin had not yet addressed the worries that had plagued him upon witnessing his friend’s arrest, but there was no avoiding the anxiety when he was reminded of the far more serious matters that were yet to be discussed. “They took her, Michael. They took Jack, and they locked her up for talking. All she did was talk, and now she is in prison with those meanie dementores! If they did that to Jack and she was at the meeting, what are they going to do to Chase? They can’t hurt her, Michael. I-I-I,” as Calvin began to stutter, he went quiet once more, taking this as his cue to calm himself down.
After inhaling a few shaky breaths, Calvin parted his lips once more, “What is happening, sir? Why are innocent people being put in Azkaban, and fired? Mr. Potter was nice, but they fired him. And Jack is nice too! I can’t loose Chase, sir. It would kill me,” he admitted. As he finished, Calvin cast the rum that he’d been offered a downwards glance. He had never been as bold as to drink alcohol before, but he could not bring himself to refuse the bartender’s kindness.
Calvin brought the dusty tankard to his lips, and swallowed a large mouthful of the liquid – which he then promptly began to cough up. It seemed that the young lad was no longer capable of preventing himself from spewing his bodily fluids onto the floor every few seconds. His nose scrunched upward in an expression of distaste towards the drink. “Yucky. What is that stuff?” he asked, turning his eyes back towards Michael.