James held up his hands, stopping Cameron. “Look, those books are about my dad. Not me. Things are different these days, aren’t they? There’s no more Voldemort, no more big, scary, evil society bent on taking over the world. Last year was a fluke, all right? Besides, I wasn’t a hero like my dad was. If I hadn’t had Ralph and Zane—”
“Zane?” Cameron interrupted. “He’s the one from the States?”
“Yes,” James laughed, exasperated. “He—”
James jumped as something rapped against the window behind him. He spun around, eyes wide. The window was perfectly black. He stared at his reflection in the old glass. “What the—”
The rap came again, louder, shaking the window in its pane. A small object had thrown itself against the window from the outside. It looked like a moth, but with glowing green wings. James focused on it, furrowing his brow.
“What is it?” Rose asked, coming around the table to join James.
James shook his head. The moth threw itself against the window again, rattling the glass with its wings. It was remarkably strong considering its size.
“It’s a lunarfly,” Rose said, recognizing the flying shape. “Let it in before it knocks itself senseless. They’re harmless.”
James unlatched the window and swung it open just as the lunarfly dove again. It shot through the open window and past James. Cameron ducked as the glowing moth spun out over the room. It swooped wildly, flitting through the students scattered around the room, leaving a trail of faintly glowing dust behind it. Scorpius sat up and peered at the moth, narrowing his eyes, as it wove and arced, drawing dusty greenish lines in the air. Finally, as if exhausted, the moth fluttered to a halt on the table, landing on James’ pile of books. It folded its wings and twitched its antennae at James.
“Whoa!” Cameron said excitedly. James raised his eyes.
The lines of glowing dust had condensed into a shape. It floated in the air, drifting very slowly toward the ground. James recognized the shape. He grinned.
“Cameron, meet Zane,” James said, gesturing to the familiar face formed by the glowing dust. “Zane, we were just talking about you. How’d you know?”
The dusty representation of Zane’s face smiled. “It works! Hi, James! Hold on a second. Raphael, Anna, tell Professor Franklyn it works. I’m getting through! They can see me! All right, anyway. Hey, everybody. Hi, Rose! Where’s the Ralphinator?”
“He and Albus are down with the Slytherins,” James replied. “Zane, what is this?”
Zane’s shimmering face grimaced as if to say it’s a long story. “You ever hear the bit about the Chaos Butterfly? The one that flaps its wings in Paris and causes a hurricane in Los Angeles? Well, this is that butterfly. It’s a moth, really, but the point is it doesn’t cause the hurricanes, it just knows when they’re going to happen. Franklyn says it has some sort of psychic connection to the cosmos. Anyway, it can tune into stuff thousands of miles away. The trick was just to get it to tune into the right thing. At the moment, it’s tuned in to my face over here at Alma Aleron. So how do I look?”
James leaned in, studying the strange, glowing phenomenon. “Like a seasick ghost.”
“That’s as good as it gets, for now,” Zane nodded. “Still, it’s a big leap for the Department of Experimental Magical Communications. Raphael says we’ll probably get a grant for this. Anyway, I’ve only got a minute before the dust settles. How are you all doing?”
“Fine,” James replied. “Tell Cameron here that there aren’t going to be any more exciting adventures this year.”
“There better not be,” Zane agreed. “James swore them off last year, Cam. That’s the only reason I let my parents drag me back to America. Anyway, I’m fading out, I can tell. I’ll be in touch, you guys. We have a few other techniques to test out. Should be fun!”
“All right, Zane,” James called as the glowing face began to disintegrate. “See you later!”
“Wait!” Zane’s voice cried, growing faint. “Did I hear you say your brother was with the Slyth…” His voice vanished as the glowing moth dust faded out of the air. On the table in front of James, the moth flexed its wings. It took off again and flitted silently through the open window. James clasped it shut.
“That was dead brilliant!” Cameron suddenly exclaimed. James smiled, shook his head, and shooed the smaller boy away. The rest of the Gryffindors in the common room went back to their business.
“That’s complete nonsense,” Rose said, settling back into her seat. “There’s no such thing as the Chaos Butterfly. It’s just a metaphor.”
James grinned smugly at Rose. “You do fancy him!”
Rose scowled at him. “Now why in the world would you say that?”
“Because,” James said simply, “you waited until he was gone to say that.”
Rose blushed and looked away, fuming.
“See?” James said, nudging her. “I’m not a dolt about everything, am I?”
Rose harrumphed and gathered her bag. “Enjoy your Transfiguration homework,” she said, standing. “And by the way, I saw your History of Magic homework answers. You got three of them wrong, and I’m not going to tell you which ones.” She batted her eyes and smiled sweetly. “Goodnight, then!”
James slumped in his chair, watching her stalk up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. Across the room, Cameron grinned at him.
No more adventures this year, James thought. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? Of course it was. Besides, the trio was broken. Zane was gone, back across the ocean and in a completely different time zone. That had never happened to Harry Potter. It had always been Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the magic trio, inseparable even to this day. Not so for James, and that, he told himself, was just fine. Let Albus have an adventure if there was one to be had. After all, he was the one everyone said looked just like Dad when he’d been younger.
James’ forehead itched. Without thinking about it, he scratched it, pushing his unruly hair up. Just like he’d told Cameron, there was no lightning bolt scar there. James wasn’t his father.
When James lowered his hand, he saw Scorpius Malfoy staring at him from across the room. His face was inscrutable. After a moment, Scorpius looked away, as if bored. If there was any proof that the era of Harry Potter style adventures was over, it was sitting right over there: Scorpius Malfoy with a Gryffindor crest embroidered on his robes.
James sighed, opened his Transfiguration textbook, and began his homework.
The first days of school passed in a blur. James attended his classes and made a concerted effort to take notes and tackle his homework. His diligence sprang partly from his own resolve not to get behind early in the year, but was also partly due to the presence of Rose in many of his classes. She served as a constant, disgruntled source of competition since James was determined not to allow his first-year cousin to outperform him despite her natural braininess.
One class Rose didn’t share with James was Care of Magical Creatures, which was still taught by Hagrid. Hagrid embarrassed James by greeting him with a gigantic, bone-cracking bear hug at the beginning of class.
“I didn’t have th’ chance to say so at th’ service, James,” Hagrid said in what he thought was a confidential voice, “but I’m so sorry about your Granddad. Arthur was a great man, ‘e was.”
James nodded, a little annoyed at having been reminded of his granddad’s death. It had been a few days since he’d thought about it. Hagrid invited the class to sit on the multitude of pumpkins maturing in his garden. He spent the period explaining what the class was about and describing the animals he’d introduce the students to over the course of the year. James didn’t listen particularly closely, gazing instead out over the lake, his thoughts far away and melancholy.
During his Wednesday free period, James sat with Ralph and Rose at a table in the library. He took the opportunity to write a short letter to his parents. When he was finished, it occurred to him to write a note to his Cousin Lucy as well,
as he’d promised. He dipped his quill and jotted the first things that came to his mind.
Dear Lucy,
Hi! I hope Uncle P. and Aunt A. aren’t dragging you all over the place too much, but if
they are, I hope you are having some fun and seeing some cool stuff. The school year is starting all
right. The new Defence teacher is Kendrick Debellows, the famous Harrier. Ask your dad if you
don’t know who he is. He’s pretty hardcore, and he doesn’t have much good to say about Aurors,
so that class looks to be a bust. Al would say hi if he knew I was writing you. He ended up in
Slyth after all! I promised I would let him tell Mum and Dad, but he didn’t say I couldn’t tell
you. Rose is sitting right here and she says hi and get a picture of anything cool you see if you are
anyplace interesting, even if you’re sick of seeing it all. Tell Mol we all said hello. Send a letter
and any pics back with Nobby, all right?
Sincerely,
James
James let Rose sign the letter to Lucy as well. When they were done, he took the letter back and reread it. Then, thoughtfully, he added:
P.S. If you get bored, you could do me a little favor. Look up anything you can find about something called the Gatekeeper or the Sentinel of Worlds. It might be a bit hard to dig up, but I know you like figuring stuff out, and it’d be a great help to me. But don’t say anything to anyone else about it. I promised to keep it a secret. Thanks.
James finished writing, then quickly sealed both letters and stuffed them into his satchel. That afternoon, after their last classes, Rose and Ralph accompanied James to the Owlery. There, James attached the letters to Nobby’s leg whilst Rose and Ralph stood near the door.
“I’m glad I brought a cat,” Rose said, wrinkling her nose. “This place is right rancid.”
“Cats can’t deliver post,” James replied.
“Well, an owl can’t snuggle up on your lap by the fireplace.”
Ralph nodded. “Or cough a hairball on your shoe.”
Rose elbowed him. James finished attaching the letters to Nobby and stood back.
“Take Mum and Dad’s letter first, Nobby. Lucy might send some stuff back.”
Nobby screeched agreement. He spread his wings, balanced on the perch for a moment, and then launched. James craned his head as Nobby thrust upward, past the ranks of his fellow owls, and disappeared through a window at the top of the Owlery.
As the three students made their way back through the castle to dinner, James asked Rose pointedly, “So how was your first Defence Against the Dark Arts class?”
Rose pressed her lips together and hefted her satchel. “He wouldn’t let me run the Gauntlet.”
Ralph glanced at her. “Well, that’s a good thing, right?”
“No, Ralph, it isn’t. The boys all had to run it. Debellows says girls are ‘too delicate’ for it. He set us up doing one-on-one drills with each other. None of the other girls take it seriously, either. It was a complete waste of time.”
“I hadn’t really noticed it,” James said, “but now that you mention it, he doesn’t have any girls run the Gauntlet in our class either.”
“Or face the clockwork ogre,” Ralph added. “That club may be padded, but it packs a wallop.”
“You should be glad you’re a girl, then, Rose,” James said fervently. “It’s your free pass out of that bruise factory.”
Rose shook her head, annoyed. “You’re both completely missing the point! Girls aren’t any less capable than boys. I bet I could beat most of you through the Gauntlet if I had a chance.”
James stared incredulously at her. “You want to go through that thing?”
“Well,” she replied, hedging a bit, “not really. I mean, it does look pretty brutal. But it’s the principle of the matter.”
Ralph shook his head. “This is the first time in my life I wish I’d been born a girl.”
“I’m going to write Mum and Dad about it,” Rose declared firmly. “When Mum hears that…”
Rose’s voice trailed away as a cold push of air suddenly rippled her robes. James and Ralph felt it as well. The three stopped in the corridor, glancing around.
James frowned. “What was that?”
Neither of the others responded. There didn’t appear to be any obvious source of the breeze. There were no windows in this section of the castle. Closed doors lined the walls, lit by a series of lanterns hung on chains. As James looked, the lantern at the end of the corridor winked out. James nudged Ralph and pointed.
Ralph’s voice wavered. “Was that already burnt out, or did it just—”
The lantern next to it flickered and died, as if someone had blown the flame out.
“Maybe it’s just the wind,” Rose said uncertainly. “Come on, let’s—”
Two more lanterns blinked out in quick succession. James glanced at Rose, then Ralph, his eyes wide. Suddenly, much stronger than before, a cold wind tore down the corridor, streaming through their robes and whipping their hair. It blew the rest of the lanterns out, throwing the corridor into murky darkness.
“Look!” Rose cried breathlessly, her voice unnaturally high. James and Ralph followed her shaking, pointing hand. There was a figure moving down the corridor. It floated above the floor, its head lowered, obscuring the face. It drifted toward them swiftly and silently. James grabbed Ralph and Rose’s sleeves, pulling them as he attempted to back away, but his legs felt frozen. The figure was moving too quickly. It was nearly upon them. Suddenly, just as it heaved directly in front of them, it raised its head.
Ralph gasped. Rose uttered a little scream. James blinked.
“Cedric?” he exclaimed, his heart pounding. “What are you doing?!”
The ghost of Cedric Diggory straightened and grinned at them. “I’ve been practicing,” he said in his distant, ghostly voice.
“Y-you know him?” Rose stammered, recovering a little.
“Yeah, we know him,” Ralph replied. “That wasn’t right, Ced. What was that all about anyway?”
Cedric looked taken aback. “I’m the ‘Specter of Silence’. I’ve been practicing over the summer, trying to create a little mystique. What, was it too much?”
James nodded, his eyes wide. “Yeah, I’d say it was a bit much! Can you, you know, fix the lights?”
The ghost glanced back at the snuffed lanterns. “Actually, they’re a lot easier to put out than to relight. Hold on.”
Cedric closed his eyes and screwed up his face. After a moment, two of the lanterns flickered back alight.
“That’s a bit better,” Rose sighed. “But still. Don’t do that again, all right? At least not to me.”
Cedric smiled. “You must be Hermione’s daughter. You have her hair, although it’s a bit redder.”
“I prefer the term ‘auburn’,” Rose said. “Anyway, yes. Nice to meet you, er, Cedric. I remember hearing about you. Care to accompany us to dinner?”
Cedric looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so. It’s not good for the mystique, hanging about in the Great Hall with everyone there.”
“All the other ghosts do it,” Ralph commented. “The Bloody Baron’s down there nearly every meal, waving his sword around and teaching the first-years bad words.”
“Yeah…,” Cedric agreed doubtfully. “That’s fine for him. He’s been around since forever…”
James narrowed his eyes. “How many people have seen you, Cedric? I mean, not counting us?”
The ghost floated nervously. “Besides you? Er… does the portrait of Snape count?”
James shook his head.
“What about the Muggle intruder?”
“No.”
“Well,” Cedric admitted, “that’s pretty much it, then.”
“Wait a minute,” Rose said, raising her hand. “You’re a shy ghost?”
Cedric grimaced. “Not ‘shy’. I was never shy. I’ve just been… busy.”<
br />
“Busy learning how to blow out lanterns and practicing being the ‘Specter of Silence’?” James clarified, tilting his head.
“Look, it’s just different, that’s all,” the ghost said. “I haven’t been down to a dinner in the Great Hall since the night I died, over twenty years ago.”
Ralph spoke up, “So? Not much has changed, I’m guessing. From the looks of things down there, they’ve been running it pretty much the same since the founders themselves. Come on, it’ll be fun even if you can’t exactly eat the food.”
Cedric shook his head sadly. “I can’t. Not yet.” He heaved a ghostly sigh. “Last time I was there, I sat with my friends. I was on my way out to what I hoped would be a victory in the final challenge of the Triwizard Tournament. Everybody toasted me with their pumpkin juice and wished me good luck. I promised them I’d tell them all about my adventure the next day at dinner, with or without the victory cup…” Cedric’s ghostly eyes had gone thoughtful. “Cho Chang met me by the door on the way out of the hall. She wished me luck in the maze. I wanted to kiss her, but I didn’t, not right there in the entrance to the Great Hall with everyone looking. I promised myself I would kiss her afterwards. Actually, I think I cared even more about that than I did about winning the cup. Kissing Cho was going to be the real prize…” Cedric paused, and then blinked, shaking himself. He glanced at James, Rose, and Ralph, as if remembering they were there. “But that never happened, of course. It feels like it was yesterday. It feels like if I went down to dinner now, Cho would be there, watching for me. There would be Stebbins, and Cadwallader, and Muriel, all anxious for me to regale them with the details of my trip through the maze. That’s how it feels to me, but it’s not true. They wouldn’t be down there. Not really. They’ve all grown and moved on. I’m just a distant memory. Instead, my old table would be full of people I don’t know. They’d not even recognize me.” He shook his head again. “Maybe someday I’ll be able to come down. But not yet. I can’t.”
Rose reached out to pat Cedric’s arm, but her hand went right through it. “I’m so sorry, Cedric,” she said. “You can come with us whenever you want to. Your old friends won’t be there, but there might be some new friends waiting.”
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