James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper jp-1

by G. Norman Lippert

  Merlin turned to leave, his great robe swaying about him.

  “Uh, Headmaster?” James called, keeping his voice low so as not to alert the Gremlins in the landing below. Merlin stopped and half turned back to James, one eyebrow raised. James asked, “Any sign of the Borley?”

  Merlin shook his head. “But fear not, Mr. Potter. I have every reason to believe yours is the last one. It will show itself in due course. Perhaps next time, you will be better equipped to handle it.”

  A moment later, the big man had gone, somehow melting into the shadows of the corridor, his footfalls making no noise whatsoever. There was definitely something creepy about the ancient wizard. He seemed to carry a sense of wildness and night air with him, even inside the halls of the school. Obviously, Merlin had secret ways of knowing what was going on in the halls. After all, he’d known exactly where to find James and what he was up to. It occurred to James that it’d probably be a challenge to sneak past Merlin even with the Invisibility Cloak on.

  Shortly, the Gremlins tiptoed up the staircase again. Rose was the last up, and she was covering her mouth to stifle a giggle.

  As they threaded their way back to the Gryffindor common room, Petra asked, “Did you see anyone, James?”

  James glanced at her, considering. After a moment, he shook his head. “No one worth mentioning.”

  It was the closest thing to the truth he could think of.

  The next morning, as James was tramping down the stairway to breakfast, he was stopped by a noisy crowd gathered around the landing. Filch stood in the middle of it, staring up at the Heracles window. His cheeks were livid red and his eyebrows worked angrily. James could see the window clearly from his vantage point halfway up the staircase. The image of Heracles was gone. In its place was a fairly good representation of Salazar Slytherin. Strangely, he seemed to be grinning giddily and skipping down a winding path. He was arm in arm with a boy with unruly dark hair: Albus. A banner floated over their heads containing the words ‘A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN?’. Worse, behind them, lying stricken on the path, was a pale boy with sharp features and whiteblonde hair. The caricature of Scorpius had a word balloon coming out of its mouth. It read, ‘FORSOOTH SALAZAR! BEHOLD MINE BREAKING HEART!’

  “It’s a line from a classic wizard love sonnet,” Damien said smugly as he crowded in next to James. “One in ten people will probably get it, but it appeals to me somehow.”

  “You are such a geek, Damien,” Sabrina said affectionately.

  The sun presided over an unusually warm afternoon as James met Ralph near the great arch of the old rotunda. Beams of golden light made stripes across the marble floor and partway up the remains of the statues of the original founders. Nothing but their feet and parts of their legs remained after all these years. The broken bits were worn smooth from centuries of curious hands.

  “She’s coming,” James said as he trotted to a stop next to his friend. “She just takes forever to get ready. What is it about girls and getting ready?”

  Ralph shrugged. “Fiera Hutchins says that girls take longer to get ready because they actually get ready. She says boys just matt their hair down with spit, slap on some cologne, and call it done.”

  “So what’s wrong with that?” James muttered.

  Rose approached them from behind. She was looking cool and, James had to admit, much more prepared than he was. “I told you I was right behind you,” she admonished.

  “What’s in the basket?” Ralph asked, nodding at the small satchel slung over her shoulder.

  “Let’s see,” Rose said, cocking her hip. “My wand, some water, a few biscuits, a Bug-repellent Charm, a field knife, a pair of Omnioculars, an extra pair of socks, and some sunglasses.” She looked back and forth between Ralph and James. “What? You said we were supposed to come prepared to walk!”

  James shook his head. “How can you be so like your mum and your dad at the same time?”

  “Just fortunate, I guess,” Rose sniffed.

  “We’re supposed to be prepared to walk?” Ralph asked, furrowing his brow. “Is that anything like hiking?”

  James set out across the rotunda floor. “Come on, Merlin said he’d meet us at the entrance, and when he gives directions, he means them.”

  “I don’t even own hiking shoes,” Ralph lamented, following.

  The three stepped out into the warmth of the afternoon. At one time, centuries ago, the rotunda entrance had been the main entry to Hogwarts castle. Now it was virtually unused. The portico’s huge doors were almost always left open, looking out over a long field of weeds and heather, ending at the edge of the Forest.

  “Those are creepy,” Rose said, looking back into the gloom of the rotunda at the remains of the statues. “They must have been enormous before they were broken. Whatever happened to them?”

  “The statues of the founders?” James replied. “They were destroyed. A long time ago. In a battle or something.”

  “You don’t know, do you?” Rose challenged, raising her eyebrows.

  James didn’t, but he wasn’t about to admit it. He made a show of watching for Merlin.

  Ralph frowned thoughtfully. “I wonder what ever happened to the pieces. You think they’re still here, stored away in a cellar or something?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Rose agreed. “There’s room enough here for them to keep everything. They say the original founders themselves are buried here somewhere, although nobody knows where. All except Salazar Slytherin.”

  Ralph blinked at her. “Why isn’t he buried here?”

  “I thought you said you read Hogwarts: A History?”

  Ralph turned to James. “Is she always like this? If so, remind me not to ask her any more questions.”

  “He’s not buried here,” James answered, “because he had a big row with the other founders and got kicked out of the school.”

  Ralph grimaced. “I probably don’t want to know what that was about, do I?”

  “I’m sure you can guess,” James replied. “It’s a good thing times have changed, eh?”

  “Times never change,” a deep voice said. James glanced up and saw Merlin climbing the steps from the field below. “But people do. Greetings, my friends. Are we ready to disembark?”

  “If that means are we ready to hike,” Ralph said tentatively, “I’m not sure I’m prepared to answer that.”

  Merlin turned on the steps and began to descend again into the grassy weeds at the bottom. James looked at Rose and Ralph, then shrugged and ran down the steps to follow.

  “So how are we getting there, Headmaster?” Rose called. “Portkey? Broom? Side-Along Apparition?”

  “I thought Mr. Potter had already informed you,” Merlin replied without looking back. “We are going to walk.”

  “The whole way?” Ralph said, tripping over a patch of heather.

  Merlin seemed to be enjoying himself. “It’ll become easier as we go, Mr. Deedle. In my day—and I admit that that day was quite a long time ago indeed—people walked virtually everywhere. It is good for wizards and witches to move within nature. It reminds us of who we are.”

  “I know who I am,” Ralph grumbled. “I’m a bloke with cruddy shoes and a preference for food that comes in wrappers.”

  They reached the edge of the Forest and Merlin stepped into it without breaking his stride. There was no path, but Merlin seemed to know where to step. He barely made a footprint or bent a stalk of grass. James paused for a moment at the edge of the woods. Merlin wasn’t slowing, and James knew that if he didn’t keep up, he would quickly lose the big wizard in the density of the trees. He plunged in after him, trying as well as he could to match Merlin’s giant stride.

  “Hold up a minute,” Rose called, plucking burs from her jeans as she walked. “Not all of us can commune with the oneness of nature and all that.”

  As they progressed, however, James noticed a strange thing. In some small way, he did seem to be connecting with the woods around him. It was as if th
e Forest blended with Merlin as he moved, opening for him and closing up again once he was past. If James, Ralph, and Rose kept close enough, they travelled in the wake of that opening. Briars bent away from them, streams sprouted smooth, dry stepping stones, and even the grass and brush laid down flat, softening the ground for their feet. No branches snagged them despite the fact that the woods were exceedingly dense. Even the reddening sunlight seemed to wend its way through the thick treetops, laying down a trail of light for them.

  “Hey, James,” Ralph said quietly, “how far do you think we’ve gone?”

  “We’ve only been at it for half an hour or so,” James replied, glancing up at the sun. “We can’t have gone much further than Hogsmeade, depending on what direction we’re heading in. It’s hard to tell, isn’t it?”

  Ralph nodded. “Yeah, it is. I swear it feels like we’ve been walking only a few minutes and about a week at the same time.”

  “Your mind is playing tricks on you,” Rose said. “It happens on long trips. The monotony gets to you. We’re probably hardly out of sight of the castle. If only the trees would thin out a bit.”

  As Rose spoke, Merlin stepped into a blaze of orange light. James squinted as he followed, then gasped, catching himself and throwing out his hands to stop Ralph and Rose. They bumped him from behind.

  “Hey,” Rose replied, dropping her satchel, “why are we stopping—”

  Her voice trailed away as she looked up. A blindingly beautiful sunset filled the view before them, blazing with oranges and pinks and deep lavenders, but that was only half of it. Fifteen feet in front of James’ feet, the stony ground fell away, plunging dizzyingly to a rocky beach pounded with surf. Mist roared up on the wind, wetting their faces and beading on their eyelashes.

  “Is that the ocean?” Rose asked breathlessly. “That’s impossible!”

  A voice called indistinctly. James tore his eyes from the sight below him and saw Merlin some distance away. He was standing on a narrow path that threaded along the crags of the cliff. He waved for them to follow. After a few awed moments, they did.

  The roar of the ocean and the whipping wind filled their ears as they skirted the cliff, catching up with Merlin. While they were still some distance behind him, Rose slipped in next to James.

  Keeping her voice low, she said, “James, why did you ask me to come along on this trip?”

  “That’s easy,” James replied, treading as quickly as he could on the uneven path along the cliff. “I had to pick someone who could keep a secret. Besides, I knew you had some doubts about Merlin. I wanted you to see him up close and personal.”

  “I have to tell you that so far I’m not feeling much better about him,” Rose confided. “Somehow, he just walked us about a hundred kilometers in a half hour. But still, I’m just wondering, James: why didn’t you ask Albus to come?”

  James glanced over his shoulder at Rose. “I don’t know. You were the first person I thought of.”

  “I just think it’s curious, that’s all.”

  Ralph had caught up to them. “Why’d you ask me to come?” he asked, panting a little.

  “Merlin asked for you specifically, Ralph. He said he knew you and me were good at keeping secrets.”

  Rose frowned. “I want to know who he’s keeping secrets from.”

  “Shh,” James hissed as they neared Merlin.

  He had stopped at the crown of a steep, rocky promontory. As the three climbed to meet him, they realized they were at the point of a narrow peninsula. Only when they joined Merlin at the top did they see that the peninsula extended ahead of them, making a natural bridge out over the crashing surf far below. The peninsula was barely as wide as the path, with a sheer drop on either side. At the far end, the stony bridge connected to an enormous craggy monolith, nearly the same size and shape as a Hogwarts turret. The top seemed roughly flat and was covered with blowing grass.

  “We’re not going out on that,” Ralph stated flatly. “I mean, we’re not, right? That would be totally mad.”

  Even as he finished speaking, Merlin stepped out onto the rocky spine. “Follow closely, my friends. It is less dangerous than it looks, but it is not harmless. I will catch you if you fall, but let us work to avoid that necessity.”

  Fortunately, James wasn’t particularly afraid of heights. Keeping his eyes on the large man striding easily along the narrow path, James stepped forward to follow.

  “Oh bugger,” Ralph muttered from behind, his voice almost lost in the whipping, salty wind.

  It was actually quite exhilarating, in a giddy, terrifying sort of way. The wind shifted restlessly, tugging at James’ sleeves and pant legs. He knew he shouldn’t look down, and yet he couldn’t help studying the path, watching for the firmest footing. Occasionally, James saw hints of stonework and large bricks embedded in the path as if it had been shored up in the distant past, perhaps repeatedly. Dry weeds grew sparsely in the rocks, hissing in the incessant, shifting wind. On either side, the surf pounded and boomed against the rocks far below.

  “This is insane,” Ralph called in a high, wavering voice. “What do we do if we fall off the side? Call out, ‘Oh Headmaster, I’m plummeting on the right side, a little help when you get a mo’?’”

  James thought about how Merlin had found him in the halls the previous night, and how he’d known exactly what they were up to. “I think he has ways of knowing what’s going on. Don’t worry about it, Ralph.”

  Rose, directly behind James, said, “That’s fabulously reassuring.”

  Finally, the path began to widen. The cliffs were obscured as they walked through a sort of gate made by a tumble of worn boulders and scree. James finally allowed himself to look around as he stepped into the clearing atop the monstrous monolith. It was indeed covered in long grass and brush, but it wasn’t entirely flat. Instead, it was vaguely funnel-shaped, dipping to a hidden depression in the middle. Merlin was standing in a narrow path that threaded down into the center.

  “Exhilarating,” he called heartily. He looked grimly happy, his cloak whipping freely about his legs and his beard streaming in the wind.

  “Actually,” James answered, “yeah, it was!”

  Rose and Ralph caught up and gathered near the wizard.

  “Are we there yet?” Ralph asked, raking his hair out of his eyes with his fingers.

  Merlin turned and looked into the middle of the plateau, which dipped out of sight. “We are. Watch your step from this point. It gets a bit tricky.”

  “Oh, good,” Ralph muttered helplessly.

  “Buck up, Ralph,” Rose said, tying her hair back with a short length of ribbon. “This is the best adventure you’ll never be able to tell anyone about.”

  “I don’t know why everyone seems to think I like adventures. I never even read adventure stories.”

  “Stay close,” Merlin said again as he began to descend the path.

  As the four worked their way down the funnel-shaped plateau, the dry grass began to give way. James stopped for a moment as the true nature of the monolith became apparent. The center grew steeper and steeper, dropping deep into a natural pit fifty feet across. The path transitioned to huge stone steps, and then to a narrow stairway carved around the inside of the pit. The stairs were obviously ancient, rounded and slick with moss. The heart of the pit was filled with ocean water, roiling and heaving in and out of a hundred fissures worn through the stone. The boom of the waves was nearly deafening.

  Finally, just above the level of the surf, the stairway met a large cave. Merlin led the three into the dimness. He stopped and tapped his staff on the rocky floor, lighting it. Purplish light filled the space, making hard shadows in every crag and crack.

  “Nice hiding place,” James said, whistling.

  “It sure is,” Rose agreed, “considering it’s underwater half the day. We’re in the middle of low tide right now.”

  “Is that where you have your stuff hidden?” Ralph asked, pointing toward a large door-shaped hole in the r
ear of the cave wall. “There’s writing over the door, but I can’t read it.”

  Rose peered at it, stepping closer. “It’s Welsh, isn’t it?”

  “It’s an old form of what you’d call Welsh, I suppose,” Merlin said, approaching the door. “Roughly translated, it reads, ‘This is the cache of Merlinus Ambrosius; do not enter on pain of death.’”

  Ralph squinted at the barely legible letters. “So much for secret riddles and magical passwords.”

  “I do not believe in toying with the lives of treasure seekers,” Merlin replied. “The mention of my name was enough to repel most who came this far. Those that ventured further deserved fair warning.”

  “Isn’t there some sort of key or something?” Rose asked.

  “No, Miss Weasley. The trick is not to get in. In fact, quite the reverse. Which is why you and Mr. Deedle will wait out here.”

  Ralph brightened. “That’s the first good news I’ve heard since we started this trip. But why?”

  “Your wand is a fragment of my staff,” Merlin smiled grimly. “Thus, it is the only other magical instrument on the earth that can reverse the doorway.”

  Ralph nodded, waving his hand. “Good enough for me. Just tell me what to do when the time comes. Happy pot-holing.”

  Rose asked, “What about me?”

  Merlin produced something from the depths of his robes and handed it to her. It was a small mirror with an ornate golden frame. “Do you know how to make an Occido Beam?”

  James saw Rose struggle not to roll her eyes. “I know how to reflect the sun with a mirror, yes.”

  Merlin nodded and looked at James. “Follow me, Mr. Potter, and stay close.”

  With that, he turned and stepped through the doorway. His staff lit the interior of the chamber with its purple glow. James glanced at Ralph and Rose, shrugged, and followed Merlin into the cavern.

  Immediately, his footsteps crunched unpleasantly.

  “Ugh!” he exclaimed. “Bones!”

  The floor was covered thickly with tiny skeletons. The remains of birds, fish and rodents were piled several inches deep. Merlin didn’t pay them any attention.