James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper

by G. Norman Lippert

  "I may not know what I'm talking about here," Zane said weakly, his eyes bulging, "but I'm pretty sure those aren't Borleys."

  In fact, the Borley was exactly where they'd expected it to be. It danced on the huge iron knuckle that connected the train to the coal car, teasing them. Over it, however, darkening the air all around the coal car, swarming like a malignant living cloud, were dozens—perhaps hundreds—of Dementors.

  "It's the entire hive!" James called over the sound of the clacking wheels and rushing wind. "All the way from London! Why are they here?"

  Merlin didn't take his eyes from the horrible swarm. "I think," he said slowly, "the answer to that question is all too clear."

  Rose looked from Merlin to the open, howling doorway. "The Gatekeeper is up there," she said, nodding toward the engine, which was just visible over the length of the coal car and the swarming Dementors.

  Suddenly, the train's whistle blew, shrieking a long, deafening note. Rose clapped her hands to her ears and winced. Simultaneously, the engine seemed to lurch forward, picking up speed. James stumbled as the train rounded a turn, rushing through it at dangerously high speed.

  "Look!" Zane called, gripping the open doorway and pointing. James peered aside, looking through the gap between the cars. Trees whipped past in a blur, and then something else flickered past: wooden signs and piles of gravel and railroad ties.

  "It's the new extension!" Zane yelled, his face very pale.

  "The new what?" Rose cried, shaking her head.

  "Didn't you read the sign?" he called, exasperated. "It's the new track extension over the Sparrowhawk Gorge! We're off the main track! We've been switched onto the new extension!"

  "Don't tell me," Ralph yelled, slumping. "The extension's not finished yet, is it?"

  "No! The bridge over the gorge is hardly half-done yet! It's not supposed to be completed until next year!"

  Albus nodded seriously. "This is bad. Very bad."

  Merlin stepped forward, his face determined and his staff held before him. The wind whipped his robes and streamed through his hair and beard. Instantly, the cloud of Dementors condensed, collapsing onto the doorway and blocking it. The students stumbled backwards, terrified and falling over each other. The Dementors hissed and roared, and James felt his blood chill at the sound of it. He'd never known Dementors could speak.

  The boyyy…, they hissed in unison, and their voices were horrid, buzzing like hornet wings. James Sirius Potter… the boyyy mussst commme…

  Merlin had not stepped back in the face of the angry swarm. Now, however, he turned slightly, looking back at James over his shoulder. His face was cold, his eyes like diamond chips.

  "It would appear you are being summoned," he said, his voice carrying easily over the noise and wind.

  "No!" James cried. "I don't want anything to do with that thing!"

  "The Gatekeeper believes differently," Merlin replied. "And it is going to kill everyone on this train if you do not meet its summons."

  James shook his head adamantly. "I can't face that thing alone!" he exclaimed, terrified.

  "You will not be alone," Merlin answered, smiling humorlessly. "I will be accompanying you."

  James looked into the sorcerer's face. What he saw there was complete confidence and determination. The Dementors may try to stop Merlin, but they would not succeed. James nodded slowly and stood up.

  As he stepped tentatively toward the open doorway, the cloud of Dementors backed away, allowing him room. They swarmed feverishly, and the sight of them made James shiver.

  "Don't!" Rose called, grabbing James' sleeve. "There's got to be another way! You don't have to do it, James!"

  James shook his head. "I think I do, Rose. It'll be all right."

  "No!" she cried. "You're daft! You can't defeat something like that!"

  James shrugged. "I have to try at least."

  Zane put his hand on Rose's shoulder and Albus reached for her hand.

  "Don't do anything stupid, big brother!" Albus called.

  "Here!" Ralph suddenly yelled, pushing forward. He held his wand out to James, handle-first.

  James shook his head. "No, Ralph, that's yours! I couldn't!"

  "Shut up, James!" Ralph said, and James was shocked to see the ferocity in the boy's eyes. "Merlin's right! My wand has unique powers! You might need the boost! You're not going to keep it anyway. I'm lending it to you. Understand?"

  James nodded solemnly and accepted Ralph's huge wand. "I'll give it back to you when I return," he agreed.

  Nowww…, the Dementors hissed in their awful monotone. James Sirius Potter…

  "Keep your cowls on," James muttered nervously, pushing into the wind and blasting cinders. The rear of the coal car bore an iron ladder. James began to climb it, fighting both the howling air and streaming smoke from the engine. Beneath him, the track blurred past, and the clack of the wheels was loud enough to hurt his ears. Before Merlin could move to follow him, however, James decided to try the bravest thing he could think of. He took out Ralph's wand and pointed it at the great iron knuckle that connected the coal car to the rest of the train.

  "Convulsis!" he called, attempting the destroying spell he had last seen Rowena Ravenclaw use on the painting in Salazar Slytherin's quarters. The spell struck the knuckle and exploded brightly. When the sparks cleared, however, James could see that it had had no effect on the knuckle.

  "A worthy attempt," Merlin called, glancing up at James. "But the Gatekeeper has foreseen such measures."

  James nodded, disheartened, and continued to climb the ladder. The Dementors swirled around him but kept their distance. James scrambled over the lip of the coal car and dropped onto the irregular pile of coal inside.

  Behind him, he heard Merlin's voice call out firmly, "Chrea Patronym!"

  There was a burst of silvery light and the swarm of Dementors broke apart, repelled by the force of the glare. James glanced back and saw Merlin clambering onto the pile of coal behind him, his staff glowing greenly in his hand. In front of Merlin, standing between him and James, was a large, ghostly jackal. The silvery light pulsed from it, and it bore its shining teeth in a silent snarl, forcing the Dementors back. James felt a little better seeing Merlin's ferocious Patronus, and he wasn't surprised at the form it had taken. He turned back and slowly began to force his way along the length of the coal car, struggling over the rough chunks of black coal. Trees whipped past, and James could tell that this length of track was unfamiliar. He had no idea how long they had until the train met the unfinished bridge. Panic tried to grip him, but James fought it back, concentrating on the task at hand.

  Finally, he met the other end of the coal car and clambered through an open iron door. A shovel rattled on the small platform behind the engine, but there was no one in sight. Merlin climbed through the iron door behind James, but his Patronus jumped over the front of the coal car, landing on the platform with its hackles raised. The noise of the engine made it almost too loud to speak. Merlin nodded toward the closed door in the rear of the engine. It was painted bright red, just like the rest of the engine. Across it, in gold letters, were the words 'Hogwarts Express Engineers Only'.

  James reached for the door handle and heaved it open. It was pitch dark inside the engine compartment. James took a deep breath, steeled himself on the swaying, speeding platform, and stepped into the waiting darkness.

  The noise and wind vanished instantly. There was no sense of speed or motion at all. Nor did the space inside the engine feel hot or confined, as James had expected. It felt huge, silent, and eerily cool.

  "James," a voice said comfortably, "how good of you to come."

  James glanced around, but he couldn't see anyone. There was no sign of Merlin, or anything else for that matter. The space seemed completely dark and featureless but for a pool of dim light that James stood in. "Where am I?" he asked, gathering his wits. "Where's Merlin?"

  "He's near," the voice answered cryptically. "Interesting fellow, Merlinus, d
on't you think? He was the first human I ever met, you know. His fear tastes particularly piquant." The voice sighed in a selfsatisfied manner. "As far as where you are, that's a rather more difficult question to answer. I didn't want you to be overly concerned about your friends, so I took us… away. Outside of time. Outside of… well, everything, really."

  "Where are you?" James demanded, glancing around.

  "Oh, I keep forgetting," the voice said, laughing lightly. "You humans don't much like the whole 'godlike voice out of nowhere' sensation, do you? I'm right here."

  On the word here, the voice localized. James turned toward the sound and saw a figure standing before him. It was exactly the same figure he'd seen in Merlin's Magic Mirror, right down to the tattered robe with no feet and the dark, featureless hood. James scrambled back from it, gasping.

  "I apologize again," the figure said, reaching up. "Perhaps this is a bit better."

  The figure of the Gatekeeper touched its hood and then swept it back. James was afraid to look but couldn't help himself. He winced at the revealed shape, and then frowned a little.

  "You're the Gatekeeper?" he asked, stepping forward again. "You look a little like… like my dad. But not exactly."

  "This isn't how I truly look, of course," the figure said offhandedly. "I'm still learning about humans, I admit, but I've come to understand the sorts of shapes you find acceptable." The Gatekeeper smiled disarmingly. "You expected something awful, I presume? A thousand eyes and a long, forked tail? That sort of thing?"

  James nodded, and then shook his head. "I don't know what I expected. It doesn't matter, really. What do you want?"

  "Right down to business," the Gatekeeper said, nodding curtly, still smiling. "That's what I respect about you, James Sirius Potter. No sentimentals. I'll tell you what I want. I want to help you."

  James shook his head. "I'm not buying that. You're a liar. You want me to be your host so you can stay here on the earth and destroy everything. I've learned all about you. You just want to use me."

  "Alas," the Gatekeeper said, frowning a little, "put like that, it sounds rather awful, doesn't it? On the surface of it, I mean."

  "Well…," James said, a little uncertainly, "yeah, it does."

  The Gatekeeper nodded, pressing its lips together. "I guess that settles it, then. You say no to me, I get no human host. Shortly, I'll lose my footing on this earthly plane and be forced back to the Void. You win." The figure shrugged, as if mildly disappointed.

  "Yeah…," James agreed tentatively, "I guess that's pretty much it."

  "In that case, do you mind if we just chat for a moment, James? There's no harm in that, is there?"

  "Er, I guess not."

  "You fancy Miss Morganstern, don't you?" the Gatekeeper said, arching an eyebrow at James and winking. "I don't blame you. Really, I don't. Delightful girl. She and I were supposed to be… very close. I have to admit, though, that I had my doubts about her. Your dead Voldemort has his rather devoted followers, and they insisted she was the one for me, but I suspected differently. And, of course, I was right. I'm always right, James. That's not pride talking, mind you. Uncertainty is the hallmark of time-bound creatures. I see history as an open book, from start to finish. I know how things are going to happen because, metaphorically speaking, I've already skipped to the last page." The Gatekeeper sighed indulgently. "Let me ask you something, James: do you know who I really am?" it asked, tilting its head.

  "You're the Gatekeeper," James answered carefully. "You're evil."

  "Yes, yes," the figure said, waving a hand impatiently. "But besides all of that. I have loads of names other than that one, you know. There is one that I am particularly fond of. I think it'll amuse you."

  James shook his head, feeling increasingly cautious. "I don't know what you mean."

  "Then let me illuminate you, James," the Gatekeeper said, suddenly approaching James and dropping to one knee. It looked closely at him, its eyes sparkling mischievously. "James, my boy, do you remember the story? The one your friend Ralph regaled you with in Wizard Literature class? You do, don't you?"

  James nodded, perplexed. "Sure, but I don't see…"

  "You don't see because you don't look!" the Gatekeeper interrupted. It lowered its voice and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "I, James, am the King of the Cats!"

  James backed away as fear tingled up his back.

  "Think about it," the Gatekeeper insisted, standing again and following him. "I sit at the base of the steps, Lord Guardian of the doorway between the living and the dead! I determine who passes through the Void, who proceeds into the Everlasting! And, I might add, I am also the Lord of… who comes back!"

  The Gatekeeper deftly snapped its fingers. Another pool of light appeared and James couldn't help glancing at it. A figure was climbing to its feet in the pool of light, looking around in surprise and wonder. James gasped and his heart leapt.

  "Grandfather…," he said, taking a step forward.

  "James!" Arthur Weasley said, laughing a little. "What are you doing at the Ministry? And what in the world was I doing on the floor? I must have tripped, clumsy me."

  "Grandfather!" James exclaimed, moving to run to him, but the Gatekeeper placed a hand on James' shoulder, stopping him.

  "You cannot touch him, James," the Gatekeeper said sorrowfully. "Not yet. Perhaps in time."

  "But how…," James cried.

  Arthur Weasley tilted his head and smiled crookedly at James. "Is this part of your grandmother's secret design?" he asked. "It is, isn't it? I know she's been planning some sort of surprise party. She's never been able to fool me, although I let her believe she can, the dear. Where's everyone else?"

  "He cannot see me," the Gatekeeper said, looking back at Arthur. "Those that pass through never do."

  "Are… are you real?" James stammered, giddy excitement welling inside him. "Is it really you, Grandfather?"

  "What kind of question is that, James?" Arthur said, looking around. "Where are we, anyway? This isn't the Ministry after all. I have to admit, I'm rather dumbfounded. Did I get off at the wrong grate on the Floo Network?"

  "No, Grandfather!" James cried. "You're… you had a—"

  "Shh," the Gatekeeper said. "Don't tell him."

  "Why are you doing this?" James suddenly demanded, looking up at the robed entity before him. "That can't really be my grandfather! He's dead!"

  "Death is just a doorway," the Gatekeeper replied, shrugging. "You never knew that it was a two-way door. You love your grandfather, do you not?"

  "What would you know about that?" James demanded, fighting tears of frustration and anger.

  "I admit the concept is foreign to me," the entity answered, "but I have learned enough of humans to know it is of great power to you. You'd have your grandfather back if you could, wouldn't you?"

  James bit his lip, his emotions raging. In the second pool of light, Arthur was patting his pockets distractedly, as if looking for something. "Wrong address," he muttered, laughing a little nervously. "Where'd I put that packet of emergency Floo powder? Molly always insists I carry it. She'll crow for days about the fact that I finally needed it."

  "Yes!" James blurted, tears welling in his eyes. "I love my grandfather. But he's gone! You can't trick me! I won't do what you ask even if it means getting him back!"

  "Selfless," the Gatekeeper said seriously, nodding. "A very respectable trait. I admire it, I really do." It raised its hand and snapped its fingers again.

  A third pool of light appeared. James turned to look, blinking through a blur of tears. A figure seemed to stumble backwards into the light. He was tall and thin, wearing dark robes; his long black hair was ratty and matted with sweat. He caught his balance and spun on the spot, his wand out. Wild eyes spotted James and the man stopped, breathing heavily, obviously confused.

  "Harry?" he called, frowning in consternation. "You're not Harry. Are you?"

  James couldn't believe his eyes. "Sirius?" he gasped. "You're Sirius Black!"
>
  "Ten points for you," Sirius replied. "Where am I? Where's Remus and Harry and the rest? Where's bloody Bellatrix, for that matter? I'm not through with that witch."

  "Sirius!" James called, hitching a sob, completely at a loss. "It's… it's over! You were k—"

  "The dead don't wish to know such things," the Gatekeeper interrupted, shushing James. "But surely you can see who this is. Sirius Black. More importantly, your father's long lost godfather."

  James nodded, barely hearing.

  The Gatekeeper went on. "Deny yourself all you wish, James. Return your grandfather to the realm of the dead. But will you be able to live with yourself knowing that you turned down the opportunity to give your father the one man whose love he has ached for every day of his life? Will you ever be able to look your father in the eye again, knowing you have denied him his greatest wish: to have his godfather returned to him?"

  James' mind was reeling. "But they're not real!"

  "What does that even mean, James?" the Gatekeeper demanded. "Look at them! They know not their own fates! For them, no time has passed whatsoever. They believe they are real! Who are you to tell them otherwise?"

  "I don't know!" James cried, clutching his head.

  "It is so simple, James," the Gatekeeper soothed, advancing on him. "I am the King of the Cats. You may join me and see all those you've lost returned to you. Your grandfather, your father's godfather, even your long dead grandparents. There is no drawback, James, only one small price. A price you won't even mind paying, I assure you. A price you will be glad to pay!"

  "What is it?" James asked helplessly, looking back and forth between Sirius Black and Arthur Weasley.

  "A small thing, a trifle," the Gatekeeper said, reaching out to James and placing its hands on his shoulders. "A service to the world, really."

  "I'm not going to kill anyone," James said, shaking his head, tears streaming down his face.

  "Look," the Gatekeeper whispered gently, turning James around. "Look before you answer."

  Behind James was another pool of light. One last figure stood inside it, seeming rather surprised to be there. Long white hair hung on either side of a haggard face, and the eyes were filled with hate. James could instantly see the family resemblance. It was Lucius Malfoy.