JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES jp-1

by G. Norman Lippert

  “You order three Happy Emperor Family Combo?” he said, glancing up at the three of them. “You owe me sixty-six seventy-five.”

  “Here you go,” Harry said, handing the man a small handful of gold coins. Zane took the paper bag from the basket on the end of the delivery wizard’s broom and peered into it.

  “Cool!” he said. “Magic fortune cookies!”

  “Where’s my egg roll?” Ralph asked, leaning forward and sniffing at the open bag. Lights flickered within it and James was mildly amused to see lit sparklers inside the bag, stuck into the tops of a variety of white cartons and boxes.

  “What this kinda money?” the delivery wizard said, peering suspiciously at the Galleons in his hand. “This not real money. You trick me?”

  “It’s real,” Franklyn said wearily. “European Galleons are still legal tender in this country, even though you see fewer and fewer of them these days.”

  The Chinese wizard regarded Franklyn doubtfully. A moment later, he pocketed the Galleons. “Fine fine. But no change. Don’t know exchange rate.”

  “Call it a tip,” Harry smiled, accepting a paper bag of crab rangoon from Zane.

  The Chinese wizard nodded, doffed his red pillbox cap, turned, and swooped away. In the darkness beyond the Zephyr, the wizarding policemen, Dunst and Trumble, stepped off the tracks, approaching their black and yellow police brooms. Further away, the agents from the Magical Integration Bureau climbed down the embankment toward a nondescript black car. Ralph’s father took the delivery sack from Zane and climbed into the train to distribute it around. Harry and the rest of the adults stepped aside into the weeds that bordered the outside of the tracks as the second train chugged to a stop next to the Zephyr.

  Ralph munched his egg roll thoughtfully. “If I’m not mistaken,” he said, watching the men in the dark suits as they started their car, “those two are Muggles.”

  “You nailed it, Ralphinator,” Zane said, sighing. “The Bureau is part of the Muggle F.B.I., only super top-secret. The president doesn’t even find out about them unless he absolutely has to. They’re a little creepy and intense, but it’s all part of the deal.”

  “What deal is that?” James asked.

  Zane leaned against the end of the Zephyr and waved one of the sparklers from the delivery sack. “The government here was a lot more involved with the wizarding world, way back in the day. The Muggle leaders who knew about the magical community were suspicious of them, even though a lot of the witches and wizards were their friends and helpers. Franklyn can explain it better if you want him to, but basically, they built protections into the original laws that governed the coexistence of the magical and Muggle worlds. Those guys in the suits… they’re one of those protections.”

  Lucy frowned at the black car as it drove serenely away, its lights off in the darkness. “Do they have… what’s it called… jurisdiction over us?”

  Zane shrugged slowly and shook his head, as if he wasn’t really sure.

  “All I know,” Ralph commented, climbing to his feet, “is that we were lucky to have that witch in our compartment. The one that pegged all those guys on the brooms. Talk about your wandless magic.”

  Zane screwed up his face thoughtfully. “Was she part of your group?”

  “I met her once before,” James admitted. “In the hallway back at the Aquapolis. She’s… curious.”

  Lucy raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘curious’?”

  James shrugged. “She knew things about me, that’s all. She said it was because we Potters are famous.”

  “I suspect there’s more to it than that,” Lucy said, still looking closely at James. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t call her curious.”

  Ralph raised his eyebrows. “Well, there was the bit where she performed some dead serious magic without any wand in her hand,” he proclaimed. “I mean, first Petra, and now some unknown lady. I’m starting to feel like I’m missing out on a trend.”

  “Probably you just couldn’t see her wand,” Lucy said dismissively. “It was dark in there, and there was a lot going on.”

  “I saw her raise her left hand and point,” Zane replied. “There was no wand there, I promise you.”

  “Yes,” Lucy nodded, her face merely inquiring, “but did you see her right hand?”

  Zane thought about it, but before he could answer, James spoke up again. “What about when we were about to crash into the overpass? I was sure the train wasn’t going to make the jump, but then up we went, like we suddenly sprouted wings. Maybe it was that witch again! Maybe she levitated the train!”

  Lucy shook her head. “You can’t levitate yourself, James, or anything you happen to be riding in. It’d be like trying to pick yourself up by your own feet. It’s one of the laws of magical dynamics.”

  “Well, somebody gave us a boost back there,” Ralph said. “I felt it happen.”

  Lucy opened her mouth to respond, and then stopped. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

  “Wait a minute,” Zane said, pointing at Lucy and looking at James. “She’s this year’s Rose, right? She’s the smart one!”

  “What, Lucy?” James asked, bumping her.

  Lucy shook herself. “Well, like I said, it’s impossible, but still…”

  Ralph threw up his hands in exasperation. “So tell already!”

  “I think it might have been Petra,” Lucy said, looking at the three boys.

  James felt a shiver coil at the base of his spine. “Why do you say that, Lu?”

  Lucy’s face was tense as she thought about it. “I was in the same car as Petra. Back in the middle of it all, even when those dark flyers were blasting the engine with their wands, Petra stayed unusually calm. Uncle Harry and Professor Longbottom were firing back at them and there was no end of confusion, what with everyone screaming and the train crashing along the street, but Petra just sat there, holding Izzy’s hand. The two of them were just looking out the window, watching everything happen. And then, when the train leapt up, aiming for the tracks, I saw it…”

  “Let me guess,” James said quietly. “Petra closed her eyes. Like she was concentrating on something.”

  Lucy looked at James. “No,” she replied meaningfully. “They both did. Izzy and Petra both. And that’s when it happened. That’s when we lifted up onto the tracks. That’s when we didn’t crash.”

  There was a long awkward moment of silence as everyone considered this. Finally, James heard the approach of footsteps from the railway bed in front of them.

  “James, and the rest of you,” Neville called up from the side of the tracks. “The other train is finally ready for us. Go and alert Professor Remora and the others in our group, will you? Tell them we’re boarding a different train for the remainder of the trip. With any luck, this journey may still end tonight.”

  James nodded. Along with Lucy and Ralph, he climbed to his feet and threaded back through the rear doorway, into the dark train.

  The second train wasn’t as nice as the Zephyr, but it was quiet and moved with similar speed. James found himself in a sparsely populated passenger compartment with most of the rest of his traveling companions. The rocking of the train, and the darkness outside the windows once the city was behind them, lulled him into a mild doze. Finally, an hour or so later, James was awakened by the screech of brakes as the train began to slow. He looked around blearily as his fellow passengers began to stir and collect their things.

  “Finally here,” Ralph muttered, cupping his hands to the window as a railway station lumbered slowly past. “Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.”

  “At least the journey’s done,” Albus commented grumpily.

  Near the head of the passenger compartment, James saw Professor Remora sleeping awkwardly, leaning across two seats with her mouth hanging open. One of her students nudged her experimentally.

  “I thought vampires loved the night,” Lucy mused idly.

  “Who, you mean Remora?” Zane said, glancing at Lucy. “Yeah, that’s a real puzzler,
ain’t it?”

  Ralph yawned and asked Zane, “How far is the school from here?”

  “Just a few blocks away. It’s almost right downtown, but you have to know where to look.”

  Franklyn shouldered his leather attaché and patted his pockets, apparently looking for his glasses. “I’ll arrange for our trunks and bags to be delivered to our various quarters via porter. Tonight, you shall all stay in the Alma Aleron guest house. Tomorrow, I will show you all to your residences for the duration of your stay.”

  Harry stood up, carrying Lily as she slept, her head on his shoulder. Ginny followed, and the group began to shuffle toward the car’s doors. It was an unusually quiet group as they filed out onto the deserted platform. A cool mist hung in the air around the huge terminal nearby. In the distance, a clock tower began to toll the hour. James counted the chimes and discovered that it was ten o’clock. Slowly, led by Chancellor Franklyn and Professor Georgia Burke, the group made its way off the platform and into the huge brightly lit terminal. Tall windows framed the space on either side, showing inky black sky.

  “This is the 30 Street Station,” Zane announced, too tired to be particularly enthusiastic. “They were going to rename it Benjamin Franklin Station a decade or so ago, but there was some political mish-mash and it never happened. Do yourself a favor and never bring it up with the Chancellor.”

  As the group made its way through the bank of doors at the far end of the marble floor, they were met by a sweeping view of the city where it huddled on the other side of a broad river. Without stopping, Franklyn led the travelers across the street and onto a wide bridge. Cars and a few buses moved back and forth on the bridge as the travelers made their way along a footpath on the right side.

  “It isn’t far,” Franklyn proclaimed over the noise of the traffic. “No Disapparating this close to the station, unfortunately. Not that we could anyway, with so many underage witches and wizards with us.”

  Ginny pulled her hair into a ponytail as she walked next to her husband. “I don’t mind stretching my legs a bit, actually.”

  “Not the most beautiful city I’ve ever seen,” Albus remarked. “But the river is a delightful shade of orange.”

  “That’s just the streetlamps,” Lucy sighed.

  “Enjoy the view while you can,” Zane instructed. “Once we get on campus, it might be months before you ever see it again.”

  Albus frowned. “Is it a school or a prison?”

  “Yes,” Zane quipped. “But the point is, there’s no reason you ever really need to leave. The Aleron’s got everything you need, and quite a few things you don’t. I’ve been there a whole year already and I still haven’t seen the whole campus.”

  Shortly, the group left the traffic bridge behind and descended into a warren of densely populated city blocks. Small businesses and gas stations eventually gave way to crowded residential areas. The houses and apartments pressed together like patrons at a bar, shouldering for room in front of the narrow streets. Cars and trucks lined the pavement, glimmering softly in the glow of the streetlights. Trees ranged along the streets as well, huge and old, their roots pushing the footpath into unruly hills and valleys. Finally, the group crossed a narrow intersection and approached a stone wall, just high enough that no one could see over it. Bits of broken glass were embedded into the mortar along the top.

  “Here we are, then,” Zane said, nodding approvingly.

  Albus was unimpressed. “This is it, is it? I see what you mean about the size of it. You could get lost bending down to tie your shoe.”

  James looked back and forth along the cracked footpath. The stone wall was no longer than a Hogwarts corridor, with leaning brick pedestals at either end. Embedded in the center of each of the brick pedestals, worn almost to illegibility, was a stone block with a stylized symbol engraved onto it. The symbol appeared to be a shield with two letter ‘A’s on it, perched upon by an eagle with spread wings. A wroughtiron gate stood in the middle of the wall, facing the street, but the gate was so choked with vines and weeds that the view beyond was completely hidden. Franklyn approached the gate and pulled some of the vines aside, peering in.

  “It is I, Flintlock,” he said quietly. “Chancellor Franklyn. Our visitors have arrived.”

  James, Albus, and Lucy crowded through the travelers, eager for a glimpse beyond the overgrown gate.

  “It’s just a yard,” Albus complained. “Where’s this big giant campus you were talking about?”

  “It’s not there yet,” Franklyn answered.

  “The Timelock!” Ralph said suddenly, remembering. “My dad told me about it last year! Excellent!”

  “In time, Mr. Deedle,” Franklyn smiled. “So to speak.”

  James pushed the vines aside and craned to look over Albus’ shoulder. Sure enough, the space inside the wall was simply an old yard, choked with weeds and bits of trash. Only two objects seemed to occupy the space. One was a rather fat and overgrown willow tree. The other was a very large jagged boulder.

  “He’s asleep, Chancellor,” Professor Burke sighed, turning away. “Shall I toss a rock at him?”

  “You know how irritable he gets when we do such things,” Franklyn replied impatiently. “Nobody likes having their own genetic material chucked at them. Let me try once more.” Raising his voice a bit, Franklyn cried out again, “Flintlock! It is I, your Chancellor! Do wake up! Our guests are waiting!”

  From the yard came a grating snort followed by a low grinding noise. James glanced around, looking for the source of the sound, and was surprised to see the boulder moving slightly. Apparently, it wasn’t one boulder, but many smaller rocks piled together, for they began to move independently, not falling apart, exactly, but shifting position, forming a shape that looked strangely, teasingly alive.

  “Cool!” Albus cried out suddenly, forgetting the quiet street around him. “It’s a rock troll! I’ve always wanted to see a rock troll!”

  The stony shape stood up and began to lumber toward the gate, moving ponderously but heavily, its footsteps shaking the ground faintly.

  “Meet Flintlock,” Franklyn said, gesturing with one hand. “Our security chief. He’s been a part of Alma Aleron ever since… well since before my time. Isn’t that right, Flintlock?”

  The troll fished a large key from the depths of his rocky crevices and socked it into an iron padlock. In a deep grating voice, the troll said, “I came over with the Mayflower, sir. I remember it like it was yesterday.”

  Professor Burke smiled wearily. “Of course, in rock troll years, it probably was yesterday.”

  As the gates swung open, squeaking noisily, Albus peered up at the stony creature. “But you must weigh a thousand tons!” he exclaimed. “How would any boat carry you?”

  “It didn’t carry me,” Flintlock replied slowly. He leaned forward, and in what passed as a whisper, he added, “I followed it.”

  The others passed by Albus as he stared up at the troll, wideeyed, considering.

  “To the Tree,” Zane pointed. “This is the best part. Come on!”

  Franklyn stopped, allowing everyone else to pass by in front of him. “Yes, yes, as Mr. Walker says, everyone under the Tree. I am sure we are all quite ready for this journey to be over.”

  James, Ralph, and Lucy joined Petra, Izzy, and the rest in the moonshade of the Tree’s drooping branches. James no longer felt tired. Instead, he was filled with a certain giddy excitement, fuelled partly by the misty night air, and partly by the mystery of whatever was about to happen.

  “He followed the Mayflower here!” Albus rasped, stabbing a thumb over his shoulder at Flintlock. “He just walked right along the bottom of the ocean, watching the ship way up on the surface! Isn’t that the coolest thing you’ve ever heard in your life?”

  “Isn’t he coming with us?” Ralph asked, peering aside as the troll stumped back toward the gate, padlock in hand.

  “No!” Albus answered, grinning. “He stays here all the time! ALL… the TIME! He says th
at sometimes Muggle teenagers climb over the walls, glass shards or not, looking for places to get into mischief. He bops ‘em to sleep and tosses them in a nearby alley with an empty bottle or two, makes them think they just fell over drunk!”

  “Let’s see,” Franklyn said, crowding under the Tree. “I daresay, what with our visitors, Professor Remora, and her returning students, we are exceeding the legal occupancy limit of the Warping Willow.”

  “Please, Chancellor,” Remora sighed. “Even for creatures such as myself, it has been a very long night. Let us get it over with.”

  Franklyn nodded and produced a complicated brass instrument from the depths of his robes. James recognized it from his previous experience with the Chancellor. It consisted of various-sized lenses held in hinged loops. He twisted two of the lenses into alignment, raised the instrument, and peered through it at the moon.

  “Ah yes,” he said, and then muttered to himself, apparently doing calculations in his head. Finally, he nodded and pocketed the brass instrument. A moment later, he raised his wand and touched it gently to the gnarled trunk of the Tree. In a singsong voice, he said, “Warping Willow, take us hither, days and years or all or none. Wend your way, we travel thither, home to Alma Aleron.”

  Next to James, Ralph shifted nervously. “I know about Whomping Willows,” he whispered, “but what’s a Warping Willow do?”

  Zane whispered back, “Have you ever seen a squaredance?”

  “No!” Ralph rasped. “We’ve been through this already.”

  Zane bobbed his head back and forth. “Think about what the Zephyr did with up and down,” he said quietly. “And now think of the Zephyr as the Warping Willow, and up and down as now and then.”

  “It’s technomancy again, right?” Ralph moaned as the Tree began to move around them, shifting mysteriously, stirring wind in its long branches. “I hate technomancy.”