James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper jp-1

by G. Norman Lippert

  “What is your name, young man?” Hufflepuff whispered, not taking her eyes from the door.

  “James Potter,” James replied as quietly as he could.

  Hufflepuff whispered, “You were right, James. Salazar is here, returned for his cache, as bold as brass. He knows his time is ended here. Rowena and I will face him and attempt to reason with him. If we prevail, we will help you seek what you need. If we are bested, then I am glad to die knowing the name of our mysterious benefactor.”

  “You may reason with him if you wish, Helga,” Ravenclaw said quietly, obviously anxious for a fight. “But I will be negotiating with my wand alone. The sheer bravado of his returning this night, beneath our very noses!”

  “I want to come with you,” James whispered, raising his wand. “This is my fight too. He tried to kill me!”

  Ravenclaw narrowed her eyes at James, smiling thinly. “He may well finish what he started if you accompany us, James Potter. But it is your choice.”

  James had expected a bit more resistance than that. He smiled a little nervously. Honestly, he thought, what was the worst that could happen? History proved that all four founders survived this night. Of course, as Slytherin had implied earlier, history didn’t say anything whatsoever about a darkhaired boy who might have been along for the ride.

  “I’ll lead,” Hufflepuff whispered, pointing toward Slytherin’s door. “Rowena, to my left. James, you follow. Stupefy Salazar if necessary, but no more. Remember that he is still one of the founders of this college, and deserving of respect.”

  “Respect be damned the moment he raises his wand,” Ravenclaw muttered as they inched down the hall.

  “He sure wasn’t using Stunning Spells on the tower,” James whispered. “Just watch for—”

  A bolt of green seared the floor next to Ravenclaw’s foot.

  “Stupefy!” Hufflepuff shouted, aiming her wand at the open door. A shadow leapt aside as her spell struck the lintel, exploding into red sparks. “He’s wary of us! We must charge him! We’re too vulnerable here!”

  James struggled to catch up as Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff ran toward Slytherin’s doorway, heads down and wands firing. Red bolts peppered the doorway, forcing Slytherin back.

  “Cease this, Salazar!” Hufflepuff shouted. “It is not yet too late to abandon this course of action!”

  James still had seen nothing of his former captor. As they drove through the door of his office, ducking for cover behind chairs and a bookcase, a shadow escaped into a dark doorway, hissing angrily.

  “Ware his form!” Ravenclaw cried. “He can be small and winged. He may hide!”

  Hufflepuff peered from around the bookcase, her wand ahead of her.

  “He is not in sight. To the inner chamber.”

  James followed the witches as they moved across the room. He was amazed at their movement. It was graceful and flitting, remarkably quick but utterly controlled. Their wand hands preceded them, steady as stone. James’ heart slammed in his chest, making his own wand shake in his hand. He glanced aside as he passed the double doors of the laboratory. They were still slightly open, but the space beyond was dark.

  “Sweep the room,” Ravenclaw said as she moved into Slytherin’s inner sanctum. “Ravaelio!”

  A beam of soft lavender light spread from the tip of Ravenclaw’s wand, lighting the wall. Slowly, she moved it all around the room, letting the light touch every surface. Finally, she lowered her wand, extinguishing the lavender light.

  “He is not hidden here,” she said, obviously disappointed. “He has fled once again, methinks.”

  James finally took a moment to look around. This was obviously Slytherin’s sleeping quarters. It was surprisingly small and cluttered, with gothic pillars and buttresses all round it. A single window was securely closed and locked.

  “Let us take advantage of the moment, then,” Hufflepuff said, turning to James. “What is it that you believe Salazar might have in his possession? What tool might prove helpful to you?”

  James tried to explain the age he’d come from, and how he’d arrived in this century by accidentally wishing himself through the Magic Mirror in the Headmaster’s office. He described appearing through the smaller silver-framed mirror hung behind the rotunda statue and its subsequent destruction by Slytherin.

  “I assumed that that had been a Magic Mirror as well,” James said. “But now I don’t think so. Slytherin loves things like that; he’d never destroy something really magical just to keep me here. I think the Amsera Certh Mirror can see through any mirror, maybe even anything that reflects! So the mirror behind the statue was just a normal mirror after all.”

  “That mirror was a remnant from Hadyn’s occupation,” Ravenclaw nodded. “There’d be nothing magical about it.”

  “But Slytherin knew all about travelling through Mirrors,” James went on. “He said that he thought he was only one of two men on earth who knew about that. And then, just now, when we were up on the Sylvven Tower, I remembered the Headmaster saying something like that. He said that his Magic Mirror was one of only two ever made, and that the other one had belonged to somebody he knew. But now I know who that person must have been! Slytherin has the other Magic Mirror! The twin of the one that brought me here!”

  Ravenclaw’s eyes had grown very sharp and wary. She glanced meaningfully aside at Hufflepuff.

  “Let us search,” Hufflepuff said quietly. “Then we shall know for sure.”

  Ravenclaw raised her wand and said the same incantation as before. The lavender light appeared at the end of her wand again. She turned slowly.

  “In my last pass,” she muttered, “I was merely searching for sign of Salazar, either as man or bat. Now…”

  Hufflepuff paced around the room, watching the lavender light play on the walls.

  “There,” she announced, pointing.

  Ravenclaw paused, resting the beam on a very large painting. It was a full-length portrait of a narrow-faced wizard in burgundy robes, and it was very nearly life-sized. The portrait slit its eyes at them and scowled. James saw that as the beam passed over the portrait, it illuminated the faint outline of a hidden doorway.

  Ravenclaw pocketed her wand and stalked across the floor. She grasped the frame of the painting and pulled, but it was stuck tight to the wall. Hufflepuff joined her, but they could not move the painting even with all three of them pulling it.

  “No more kid gloves,” Ravenclaw said angrily. She stood back, motioning the others away. She pointed her wand at the portrait.

  “Rowena Ravenclaw,” the portrait sneered, “you know not what you are doing—”

  “Convulsus!” Rowena cried, interrupting the portrait. There was a blinding burst of white light and the portrait seemed to vaporize. A moment later, once James’ eyes had readjusted to the relative dimness of the room, he saw that the portrait had not, in fact, been completely obliterated. The frame had been destroyed, and the painting had been slashed straight down the middle leaving a gaping hole. The wooden back of the painting had been entirely blasted away, lost in the dark space beyond.

  James, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw approached the slashed portrait carefully. James, between the two women, could see a sliver of light winking back at him from the depths beyond the torn canvas. In the dimness of the hidden chamber, James’ own face looked back at him.

  “It’s there,” James breathed, both elated and frightened. “I can see my reflection. It’s the Magic Mirror!”

  Hufflepuff illuminated her wand and held it out. Very carefully, she crept through the shredded painting into the dimness of the chamber behind it. Her wand lit the space and shone on the mirror’s frame. As James entered the chamber and peered around Hufflepuff, he could see that this mirror was nearly identical to the one in Merlin’s office, except that it stood upright rather than on its side. Also, there were words engraved on the golden frame of Slytherin’s mirror. The inscription didn’t make any sense to James, but the first word, carved in beautiful,
flowing script, was ‘Erised’.

  “The Mirror,” Hufflepuff said simply, her voice awed. “It wasn’t destroyed after all. He had it this whole time.”

  Ravenclaw’s face was flushed with anger. “We should have known. But what of its Focusing Book? Without it, the Mirror’s power is uncontrollable and capricious, reduced only to its most basic and illusory functions. We must search for the book.”

  “Indeed, and search for it we shall, once we have told Godric of this discovery,” Hufflepuff said. “For now, other matters demand our attention. James has done us a second great service. I suspect he’d prefer to take his leave if he can.”

  “I would, if you don’t mind,” James agreed. “It’s been really cool to meet all of you. Well, most of you. But I’m really anxious to see if I can get back.”

  “James Potter,” Hufflepuff said, smiling. “We’d have a myriad of questions for you, not the least of which would be what becomes of us, and what is this school like in your time. But I strongly suspect that the less we know of such things, the better.”

  “There is one question we should ask though, Helga,” Ravenclaw said. She turned to James, her face grim and thoughtful. “If this tale you have told us is true, and I have no reason to doubt that it is, then the Headmaster of this college, some thousand years hence, has had collusion in this time with Salazar Slytherin. James, answer me this one question as truly as you can. Do you know the real name of this Headmaster of yours?”

  “Sure,” James said, frowning quizzically. “I thought I’d mentioned him already. It’s Merlin. You’d probably know him as Merlinus Ambrosius. He came to our time last year, on the night of the alignment of the planets. I guess you’d call it the Hall of Elders’ Crossing. I saw him just this evening. Well, heard him, actually, when I was trapped in the laboratory. He was right out there, in Slytherin’s office.”

  Ravenclaw’s face had gone very pale. She studied James, and then turned to look at Hufflepuff.

  “He was here this very night,” she said quietly. “It is all true. We scarce believed it.”

  “And this boy is proof that he succeeded. It is far worse than we expected. The legend—”

  “Hush, Helga,” Rowena said gravely. “James needn’t hear of the details of that.”

  The two women looked at James. In the wandlight, their faces were very pale and deadly serious.

  “Hear me now, James Potter: beware Merlinus,” Ravenclaw said, speaking with great emphasis. “The sorcerer has a glamour that bewitches those who wish to trust him. If he has achieved the position of Headmaster, then he has already fooled many. It may even now be too late for your world. But you may have been sent here this night for a great purpose. Perhaps you go back to serve as a warning. That which Merlinus bodes upon your world is an evil like nothing the earth has ever known. The Gatekeeper of the Void may even now be unleashed, and Merlinus is its Ambassador. There is no battling the Gatekeeper, but if you can find a way to destroy the Ambassador, James Potter, you must take it. Do not let him put his glamour upon you. If the moment comes, it will not be the time for discourse or hesitation. It will be the time for action. Do you understand?”

  James looked intently at Rowena Ravenclaw’s earnest, pale face. Even here, a thousand years away from the events she was describing, she was clearly terrified. Slowly, James nodded.

  “How dare you?!” a voice shrieked suddenly, furiously, making them all jump. “My chambers! My cache!”

  Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw both spun in the confined space of the hidden chamber. They pointed their wands as a dark figure tore the decimated portrait away. The voice screamed, and it was chillingly inhuman. James suddenly remembered the slightly open doors of Slytherin’s laboratory, remembered thinking he should warn Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw to check there. Slytherin had fooled them with a shadow, and then hidden there, probably in his bat form. And now, enraged that they had discovered his greatest secret, he seemed trapped halfway between his forms, half bat and half man. His voice buzzed hideously. Great, leathery wings flapped from his hunched back.

  “Go James!” Hufflepuff cried, pointing her wand at Slytherin’s grotesque shape. In his blind rage, he beat his enormous batwings, flailing them against the wall, preventing him from entering. He slavered monstrously, lunging and snapping his fanged mouth at the women.

  “No!” James yelled. “I mean, I don’t know how! I can’t think!”

  A bolt of red seared the air, striking Slytherin’s wing. He screamed and the wing flailed limply.

  “Get away from that Mirror!” he screamed, the words sounding alien in that strange, half-bat mouth. “Touch it and die!”

  “Just go!” Ravenclaw urged desperately. “Just as you did before!”

  Slytherin lunged again, finally forcing his way through the decimated portrait hole. Both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw shot him with Stunning Spells, but in his mutated form, they only slightly weakened him. He snapped and roared at them.

  James turned away and flung himself against the Mirror. The moment he touched it, the reflection sank away, revealing the familiar silvery smoke. It swirled dizzyingly before James’ face.

  “Go, James!” Hufflepuff cried. There was a whoosh and a horrid slashing sound. One of the witches screamed, but James couldn’t tell which.

  “I wish I was anywhere else!” James said aloud, then, panicked, he amended that. “I wish I was home! I wish I was in my own time! Right now!”

  Directly behind him, Slytherin roared, his voice both human and beastly. James felt the air of Slytherin’s beating wings and sensed the coming slash of the bat-like talons.

  And then all of it was gone. The hidden chamber winked away, sucked into the swirling silvery mists. James felt the same odd sensation of flipping, as if he was being reversed through the Mirror. There was a rush of noise and speed, and then he was falling. He tumbled forward, catching himself on his hands and knees, and his wand clattered to the ground in front of him.

  James looked up. He was in a small dim room. It seemed to be full of dusty trunks and stacked crates. He scrambled around, looking back in the direction from which he’d stumbled.

  There, looking exactly the same but for a thick coating of dust, was Slytherin’s Magic Mirror. The first word of the now-ancient inscription was still plainly visible: ‘Erised’.

  “James?” a girl’s voice asked, startling him. “Is it you? It is! Wake up, you two! It happened!”

  “Rose?” James asked, completely perplexed. She appeared from the shadows near the door, disheveled and covered with cobwebs. James blinked at her. “What are you doing here? Where am I?”

  Ralph was climbing sleepily to his feet. “It’s the middle of the bloody night. What else matters?”

  “He knew!” Rose said, almost hopping with excitement. “He said you’d turn back up here if we made the Mirror ready, and you did! The three of us have been waiting here ever since dinner! We’ve been worried sick! James, what happened? Where have you been!?”

  “Wait a minute,” James said, climbing to his feet. “How’d Ralph know I would be showing up here? Nobody could possibly have known that.”

  “Not me,” Ralph said sleepily, clapping James on the shoulder, “although I’d love to take credit for it. No, this was all his idea.”

  Ralph hooked a thumb over his shoulder. James looked and saw the boy getting slowly to his feet, a tired, crooked smile on his face.

  “About time, Potter,” Scorpius drawled. “Have a nice little trip?”

  12. QUESTIONS OF TRUST

  James insisted that, curious as everyone was, he was too exhausted for lengthy explanations. He told them merely that he’d travelled back to the time of the founders, and that he’d discovered far more than he intended about Merlin. He promised to explain everything in detail the next morning, which was Saturday. Reluctantly, the others agreed, and the four students crept out of the storage room. James allowed Ralph and Scorpius to lead the way through the dark corridors, returning to the main h
all.

  “You actually met the founders?” Rose demanded in a hoarse whisper, refusing to wait for details.

  James nodded wearily. “I did. They were a lot more… real… than I ever imagined.”

  Rose shook her head wonderingly. “What was Helga Hufflepuff like? She’s the one we hear the least about.”

  “She was tough,” James said, “but nice. She wanted to talk things out with Slytherin even after he’d tried to kill the lot of us. But she wasn’t a pushover. None of them were. They were hardcore. I’ll tell you more tomorrow. How’d you all know I’d gone missing?”

  “Well, it’s been a whole day, hasn’t it?” Ralph said in a whisper. “Besides, Cedric woke me up in the middle of the night last night. He told me exactly what happened. He thinks Merlin had bewitched the gargoyle to alert him, somehow, anytime somebody used the password to go up to the Headmaster’s office. Merlin’s been stalking all over the school, obviously mad as a hornet, but he hasn’t said anything. Rose thinks he’s been looking for something.”

  “I think he was looking for the Mirror of Erised!” Rose interjected. “I bet he sensed it was here, hidden away somewhere but couldn’t find it. It’s protected from discovery somehow. I bet it’s got him in a total lather!”

  “So how did you all find it?” James asked as they reached the stairs.

  Ralph looked at Scorpius, who shrugged.

  “I knew where to look,” the pale boy said. “And when. More or less.”

  The four stopped at the base of the dark staircases. On the closest landing, the Heracles window had once again changed, Heracles’ face reverting back to the caricature of Scorpius. Filch would be fuming.

  James shook his head. “I just can’t work it out, Scorpius. How could you possibly know?”

  Scorpius drew a deep sigh. “I was told. My father knew all about it. He’s been studying the writings of the founders for years. It’s a sort of hobby of his. He wanted to learn about Salazar Slytherin, mainly, to see what he was really like, but then he got interested in the journals of Rowena Ravenclaw. She wrote down absolutely everything. Father worked out some of the clues and codes of Ravenclaw’s diaries. Apparently, she intended for them to be discovered. She describes a boy who visited her and the other founders, a boy supposedly from the distant future. She discovered that if he was to succeed in returning through the right Mirror, someone would have to prepare it on this side, in this time. She’d determined it was her duty to make sure that happened, so she developed the codex and left clues for the right person to figure it all out. My father was apparently that person. The clues gave a timeframe and instructions.”