James Potter and the Hall of the Elders' Crossing

by G. Norman Lippert

  James stopped on his way to the common room and approached the painting of the wizards gathered around the globe. The wizard with the dark mustache and spectacles peered at him with a hard, unreadable expression.

  “What?” James demanded. “Do I have mustard on my tie or something?”

  The painted wizard’s expression didn’t change, and once again, James found that there was something teasingly familiar about him.

  “I know you, somehow,” he said. “Who are you?”

  “You’re talking to a painting,” Ralph pointed out.

  “I talk to a painting every day to get into the common room,” James said without turning around.

  “Yeah,” Ralph nodded. “Still, it just seems a little weird to go around starting arguments with random paintings in the halls.”

  “Where do I know you from?” James asked the painting, annoyed.

  “Young man,” another wizard in the painting spoke up, “that’s hardly the tone we are accustomed to being addressed in. Respect and deference, if you please. We are your elders.”

  James ignored him, still studying the wizard with the mustache and spectacles, who merely stared back at him silently. It occurred to James that the wizard only seemed familiar because, somehow, he looked like the rest of the paintings that had been watching him. But that was obviously ridiculous, wasn’t it? There was the fat man with the bald head, and the thin wizard in the portrait of the portrait who’d had a great bushy blonde beard. All of the paintings he’d caught watching him were utterly different. A few had even been rather ugly women. Still, there was something about the eyes and the shape of the face. James shook his head. He felt so close to figuring it out, yet it remained beyond his grasp.

  “Come on,” Ralph finally said, grabbing James’ arm. “Argue with the paintings later. It’s steak and kidney night.”

  That weekend, James gave his new Thunderstreak a test ride on the Quidditch pitch. It was indeed an entirely different experience than riding any of the house brooms. The Thunderstreak was noticeably faster, but more importantly, it responded to James’ direction with an accuracy and ease that bordered on precognition. James would merely think that perhaps he’d like to dip or turn, and suddenly, he’d find that it was happening. Ted explained, rather breathlessly, that the Thunderstreak was equipped with an option called ‘ExtraGestural Enhancement’.

  “Basically,” he said in an awed voice, “the broom can read its owner’s mind, just enough that it only needs the slightest touch to go where you want it to go. It already knows what you want, so the moment you steer, you’re already there.”

  James offered to let Ted ride the broom, but Ted shook his head sadly. “It’s bonded with you. You’re the owner. If anybody else tried to fly it, it’d go all wonky. It’s a drawback of the E.G.E. option. Or a plus, if you’re worried about people trying to steal it.”

  “Me wantee,” Zane said in a low voice. “How much are they?”

  “How much do you have?” Ted asked.

  Zane thought for a moment. “Since I gave my last five to the house-elf doorman, er, nothing.”

  “It costs more than that,” Ted said, nodding.

  On the way back to the castle, Zane told James that he’d had an idea about how to swap the relic robe with Ralph’s dress cloak.

  “Meet me tonight in the Ravenclaw common room,” he said. “Tell Ralph to come, too, when you see him. I’ll meet you both at the door at nine.”

  That night, the Ravenclaw common room was unusually empty. Zane explained that there was a wizard chess tournament going on in the Great Hall. “Horace Birch is playing Professor Franklyn for the title of grand wizard chess champion of the universe or something. Unofficial, I’m thinking. Anyway, everybody’s down there cheering him on. So have either of you come up with a way to get the robe relic from Jackson yet?”

  “I thought you said you had a plan?” James said.

  “I do, but it’s pretty iffy. I thought I’d listen to your ideas first, in case they were better.”

  James shook his head. Ralph said, “I’ve been watching Professor Jackson. He never lets that briefcase out of his sight.”

  “Actually,” Zane said, settling into a chair by the fire, “that’s not entirely true.”

  Ralph and James sat on the sofa. James said, “Ralph’s right. He even takes it to Quidditch matches. He sets it between his feet at meals. He’s got it with him constantly.”

  “He does have it with him constantly,” Zane agreed, “but there’s one situation where he isn’t exactly keeping his eye on it.”

  “What?” James exclaimed. “Where?”

  “Technomancy class,” Zane answered simply. “Think about it. What’s he do all class long?”

  James considered it a moment, then his eyes widened slightly. “He paces.”

  “Bingo,” Zane said, pointing at James. “He puts his case on the floor by his desk, careful as always, but then he paces. He circles the room ten times a class, I bet. I’ve been watching. Takes him about a minute to make it all the way around the room, which means that for about twenty seconds, his back is turned to the briefcase.”

  “Wait,” Ralph interjected. “You think we should try to make the switch right in the middle of class?”

  Zane shrugged. “Like I said, it isn’t a great idea.”

  “How? There’s twenty people in that class. We can’t have them all in on it.”

  “No,” James agreed, “Philia Goyle’s in that class. She’s tight with Tabitha Corsica, and it’s possible, even likely, that they’re in on the Merlin plot. Philia may even know what’s in the case. Nobody else can know what we’re up to.”

  “Doesn’t mean it’s impossible,” Zane said.

  Ralph frowned. “You think we’re going to be able to get into Jackson’s case, swap the robes, and close it again, all while Jackson’s back is turned for twenty seconds, and without anyone else in the class catching on?”

  “Hmm,” James said, furrowing his brow. “Maybe we don’t need to get into the briefcase. What if we find another briefcase? We could stuff Ralph’s cloak in it and somehow just swap the cases while Jackson’s back is turned.”

  Ralph was still doubtful. “Jackson will be able to tell. He carries that thing with him everywhere. He’s probably memorized every scratch and scuff on it.”

  “Actually,” Zane said thoughtfully, “it’s a pretty standard-looking leather briefcase. I’ve seen others almost exactly like it right here at Hogwarts. If we could find something close enough���” Zane suddenly sat up and snapped his fingers. “Horace!”

  “Horace?” James blinked. “Horace Birch? The Gremlin wizard chess player? What’s he got to do with anything?”

  Zane shook his head excitedly. “Remember the Wocket? Horace used a Visumineptio charm to make it look like a flying saucer. It’s a Fool-the-Eye charm! He said it just makes people see what they expect to see. If we found a case that looked enough like Jackson’s, then put a Visumineptio charm on it, I bet that’d be enough to fool old Stonewall good! I mean, he’d never expect anything to happen to his case during class, so the charm should help him see the fake briefcase as his own. Right?”

  Ralph thought about it and seemed to brighten. “That’s so crazy, it just might work.”

  “Yeah,” James added, “but still, how do we swap the cases during class without anyone else noticing?”

  “We’d need a diversion,” Zane said firmly.

  Ralph grimaced. “You’ve watched too much telly.”

  James frowned, thinking of the Invisibility Cloak. “You know,” he said, “I think I have an idea.” He told Zane and James about finding the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder’s Map.

  “You liberated them from your dad’s trunk!” Zane grinned delightedly. “You little miscreant! Ted will want to kiss you.”

  “He doesn’t know, and I want to keep it that way, for now, at least,” James said sternly. “But the point is, I think we can use the Invisibility Cloak t
o make the switch without anyone knowing. It’ll require all of us, though.”

  “I’m not even in that class,” Ralph said.

  James nodded. “I know. What class do you have that period? First slot, Wednesday?”

  Ralph thought. “Um. Arithmancy. Ugh.”

  “Can you miss one?”

  “I guess. Why?”

  James explained his plan. Zane began to grin, but Ralph looked uncomfortable. “I’m a terrible liar. They’ll catch on straight off,” he moaned. “Can’t Zane do my part? He’s a natural.”

  James shook his head. “He’s in the class with me. It’d be no good.”

  “You can do it, Ralph,” Zane said heartily. “The trick is to look ‘em straight in the eye and never blink. I’ll teach you everything I know. We’ll make a liar out of you yet.”

  That night, as James got ready for bed, he ran through the plan in his mind. Now that he’d allowed himself to consider the impossibility of Merlin’s literal return, he felt rather silly for having been so certain of it. Obviously, it really was just a mad delusion for power-crazed dark wizards. Still, it was evident that Jackson and Delacroix, at least, believed in it enough to try it. If James, Ralph, and Zane could capture the relic robe, that would be enough proof to get his dad and his Aurors to search the island of the Grotto Keep. They’d find the Merlin throne and the conspiracy would be revealed. It’d be front-page news in the Daily Prophet, and Tabitha Corsica’s Progressive Element, which was surely part of the plot, would be revealed as a campaign of lies and propaganda, intent only on war and domination. With that vision in his head, James felt a stab of determination to do everything he could to capture the relic robe.

  As he evaluated the plan, however, he had his doubts. It was certainly a rather convoluted scheme, with loads of variables. Much of it would depend entirely on dumb luck. One minute, James was certain it would work flawlessly, the next, he was sure it would be a ridiculous failure and he, Ralph, and Zane would be caught. What would they say? Jackson would know they were aware of his plan. Would that be enough to stop the plot? James was, after all, the son of the Head Auror. James thought not. If James and his friends were caught trying to steal the relic, Jackson would know they hadn’t yet told Harry Potter anything. Would Jackson and his co-conspirators stoop to murder to keep their plans a secret? He could hardly believe it, but then again, he had been amazed to discover Jackson’s involvement in such a terrible plan to begin with. No matter what, James was sure, probably more than either Zane or Ralph, that the three of them might be in great danger if their scheme failed.

  For the first time, he considered telling his dad everything. He could send Nobby with a letter, explaining everything they’d worked out so far. If the three of them succeeded in their plan to capture the relic robe, then he’d have proof to back up the letter. If they failed and were caught, at least someone else would know about the Merlin plot. It was too late to write the letter that night, but he felt reassured that it would be a good idea, and he determined to do it first thing in the morning. Thinking that, he fell asleep. The next morning, however, as he ran down the steps to breakfast, he forgot all about it. In the light of a new day and a new week, he felt perfectly confident that their plan would work. Failure was inconceivable. He was in such high spirits about it that he barely noticed the pale wizard in the painting of the Assumption of Saint Mungo watching him intently, frowning and stone-faced.

  12. Visum-Ineptio

  The first hurdle James, Ralph, and Zane faced in capturing Jackson’s briefcase was simply finding a case similar enough to make the switch. It was, as Zane had suggested, a fairly basic black leather case, rather more like a doctor’s bag than a briefcase. They studied it carefully at dinner Monday evening, as it sat between the professor’s black boots beneath the faculty table. It had two wooden handles on the top, a hinged brass catch, and was, indeed, rather beaten and scuffed. They were dismayed to discover that it had a small, tarnished brass plate riveted to one side with ‘T. H. Jackson’ engraved on it. While it was, in most respects, an almost entirely unremarkable bit of luggage, the boys soon discovered that there was not, in fact, one exactly like it to be easily found. Plenty of students and faculty had leather cases and portfolios, but they were all either too narrow, or the wrong color, or of a rather different size or shape. By Tuesday night, they had still not found a case they could use to perform the switch. Ralph suggested that they might have to wait until the next week to perform the switch, but James was insistent that they keep trying.

  “We don’t know when they’re planning to bring all the relics together,” he explained. “If we wait too long, they’ll try it and then we won’t have access to any of the relics at all. They’ll figure out they don’t work, and then hide them or destroy them.”

  Ralph and Zane agreed, although it didn’t get them any closer to finding an appropriate case to use for the switch. Then, Wednesday morning, the day of Technomancy class, Ralph came to the breakfast table with a manic glint in his eye. He plopped down across from Zane and James and stared at them.

  “What?” James asked.

  “I think I’ve found a case we can use.”

  James’ mouth dropped open and Zane audibly gulped the coffee he’d been sipping.

  “What? Where?” James asked in a harsh whisper. He had decided they were going to have to wait after all, and had been simultaneously worried and relieved. Now adrenaline shot through him. The rather wide-eyed paleness of Ralph’s face indicated he was feeling the same thing.

  “You know my friend, Rufus Burton?”

  James nodded. “Yeah, another first-year Slytherin. Greasy-haired kid, right?”

  “Yeah. Well, he collects rocks and stuff. Calls himself a ‘rockhound’. Has a whole bunch of polished little stones arranged on a shelf by his bed: crystals and quartzes and moon-sapphires and all that. I listened to him talking about it last night for almost an hour. Well, he brought all his rock hunting tools along with him to school, of course. He’s got a little hammer that’s a pick on one side, and a bunch of little scrapers and brushes and loads of these little cloths and polishing solutions.”

  “All right, all right,” Zane said. “We get the picture. Guy’s a geek with tools. I’m spellbound. What’s the point?”

  “Well,” Ralph said, unperturbed, “he carries all his tools and gear around in a case. He had it out on his bed last night���”

  “And it’s the right size and shape?” James prompted.

  Ralph nodded, still wide-eyed. “It’s almost perfect. Even has a little plaque on the side! It has the name of the manufacturer on it, but it’s in the same place as the little plate on Jackson’s case. The color’s different, and the handles are ivory, but other than that���”

  “So how do we get it?” James asked breathlessly.

  “I’ve already got it,” Ralph answered, seeming rather amazed at himself. “I told him I wanted a bag to carry my books and parchments in. Told him my backpack didn’t feel very, you know, Slytherin. He said he knew just what I meant. He said he’d gotten a new toolcase for Christmas, so I could have his old one. That’s why he had it out: he was taking everything out of the old one to put into his new case, which is bigger and has a hard dragonskin cover. Watertight, he told me.” Ralph was beginning to ramble.

  “He just said you could have it?” Zane asked incredulously.

  “Yeah! I’ve got to tell you, it wigged me out a bit. I mean, isn’t that just a little too��� I don’t know���”

  “A little too much of a coincidence,” Zane nodded.

  James grew thoughtfully determined. “Where’s the case now?”

  Ralph looked a little startled. “I brought it down with me, but I hid it in one of the cubbyholes under the stairs. I didn’t want anyone to see me with it in here. Just in case.”

  “Good thinking. Come on,” James said, getting up.

  “You still want to go through with it?” Ralph asked, following reluctantly. �
��I mean, we were going to wait until next week anyway���”

  “That was only because we didn’t have a choice.”

  “Well,” Ralph muttered, “there’s always a choice. I mean, we don’t have to do it this way, do we? Couldn’t one of us just hide under the Invisibility Cloak and make the switch when Jackson’s not looking?”

  Zane shook his head. “No way. There’s too little room in there. Jackson would run you over doing one of his laps. If we’re going to do it, this is the only way.”

  “Look, I think we’re meant to do this,” James said, turning to face Ralph and Zane when they got to the doorway. “If there is such a thing as destiny, then that’s what put that case in your hands last night, Ralph. We can’t miss this opportunity. It’d be like��� like spitting in destiny’s face.”

  Ralph blinked, trying to envision that. Zane scowled thoughtfully. “Sounds serious.”

  “You two still with me?” James asked. Both other boys nodded.

  The case was still in the cubbyhole beneath the main staircase, and it was as similar to Jackson’s as Ralph had described. It was a ruddy red color, and much more scuffed from having been dragged through the dirt and rocks, but it was exactly the same size and shape, with a matching brass catch in the center. Ralph had already stuffed his dress cloak into it, and when James opened it to check, it looked almost exactly the way the cloth inside Jackson’s case had looked when it had come open that day in Franklyn’s classroom.