"Weaker than you?" James asked, glancing aside at her. She nodded.
James stopped her, still holding tightly onto her hand. "So what happens now?" he asked again.
Petra lowered her eyes to their clasped hands. "All that remains now," she said, mustering her resolve, "is the Crimson Thread."
James frowned and shook his head. "That's what Avior-- or Grudje or whoever he was at that point-- that's what he was all on about, too. But like I told him, the Crimson Thread wasn't really a thread, was it? That was just a symbol. The real Crimson Thread was Morgan, and she's dead." He glanced up in frustration and confusion. "Judith lied to Avior. She told him I was the key to the Crimson Thread. She told him I held it in my hand."
Petra was still looking down at their clasped hands. "Judith didn't lie, James," she said softly. "You are the key to Crimson Thread. And you do hold it in your hand." She raised her eyes to him again, studying his face. "When Judith killed Morgan, it made Morgan part of our world, our reality. She belongs to this destiny now. I can't explain why, but that's just how it works. Morgan is no longer the Crimson Thread. Now…" she paused meaningfully. "Now… I am."
James met Petra's eyes, his own brow furrowed in confusion. "You're the Crimson Thread…? But… that means…"
"What it means will come later," Petra sighed. "But look," she raised their held hands. James looked down at them. A faint silvery glow emanated from between their fingers, the remnant of the mysterious cord he had conjured, using Petra's own magic, to save her life. "I warned you that you'd regret what you did," she said, still looking into his eyes. "You see? Judith was right. You are the key to the Crimson Thread. You hold it here, in your hand. We're connected. Like it or not, as long as I occupy this destiny… we're part of each other. We're one."
James considered this, switching his gaze from their gently glowing hands to her eyes. He was struck once again that he was now slightly taller than her.
"And still," he said, feeling slightly bold, no longer caring about the repercussions, "I don't regret it. I'm glad I saved you, Petra. And I'm glad that we're connected. I wouldn't want it any other way."
Petra closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. The ghost of an amused, gratified smile curled her lips.
And then, a moment later, James stood in the hospital ward, halfway between the waiting Hagrid and the shifting, muttering Nastasia.
You may regret it still, Petra's voice echoed faintly, heard by none but him. But for now, James, I am glad you don't. And nor do I, James… Nor do I…
James nodded to show that he'd heard.
"Any idea what's wrong with 'er, then?" Hagrid asked, wringing his huge hands as James returned to him.
James shook his head, lost for some way to explain. "She's lost part of herself," he shrugged helplessly, glancing back. "Maybe she'll get it back. We're wizards and witches, after all. Anything's possible."
Hagrid nodded fretfully, as if these were sage words. James sat down with him on the bench that ran next to the hospital wing's double doors. They were silent for several minutes. Nastasia-- Nasti-- seemed to have fallen into a deep, thankfully dreamless sleep.
"We'll transfer her back to her own school tomorrow," Hagrid whispered. "They've got one o' the best medical colleges in the world, I hear. They'll… they'll be able ter help 'er, I wager."
James nodded. He wanted to believe Hagrid was right. He bid the half-giant goodnight and, as quietly as he could, left the hospital wing. Slowly, thoughtfully, he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room, his mind reeling gently…
He glanced down at his hand. It was still, somehow, warm with Petra's touch, but the faint glow had vanished. It was still there, of course. Just invisible.
The Crimson Thread needed to be returned to its own destiny. James' knew that's what Petra had in mind. How she would accomplish this-- and how he might have to help, despite his own desires, haunted his thoughts. But for now, in the wake of their secret meeting, he felt a strange, numb calm. He couldn't explain it, even to himself. He just accepted it, gratefully, letting it fill in the spaces where worry, fear, and loss might soon take over.
He reminded himself that, for the moment, all was well.
Judith was banished, her connection to Petra and Izzy destroyed.
Merlin was back, restored to life and once again presiding as headmaster over Hogwarts.
The Morrigan Web had been defeated.
And perhaps most deeply satisfying of all, Petra was glad to be a part of him, and he a part of her. James walked on, content with this. For now, all was well.
For now, he held the Crimson Thread in his hand.
THE END
Table of Contents
James Potter and the Morrigan Web
Contents
PROLOGUE
1. THE FOUR CABINETS
2. BROTHERHOOD & TOLERANCE
3. A FAMILIAR FACE
4. THE COLLECTOR
5. SUSPICIONS & SECRETS.
6. THE NIGHT LEAGUE
7. ECHOES OF UMBRIDGE
8. THWARTING GRUDJE
9. THE MIDNIGHT ASSEMBLY
10. A CLANDESTINE CHRISTMAS
11. QUINN'S STORY
12. MYSTERY AT THE WHITE TOMB
13. DEAD WARLOCK'S CLUE
14. AVIOR'S INNER SANCTUM
15. ORIGINS UNVEILED
16. THE WOES OF FILCH
17. LAIR OF THE GOWROW
18. THE MORRIGAN WEB
19. HAGRID'S DETENTION
20. TYRANNY OF FINAL DAYS
21. THE THIRD MARKER
22. AN IMPOSSIBLE BARGAIN
23. COLLECTIVE CONSTANT
24. THE MOST VEXING QUESTION
25. THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY
James Potter and the Morrigan Web Page 81
