By the time they neared the last curve of the staircase, the Headmistress, Neville, and the rest of the professors had caught up to them. McGonagall called down to the students who were waiting below.
“Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, we are all returning to you whole and well.” She stopped and regarded the assembly from above. “In order to dispel rumors and quell any fears, I intend to be quite forthright about what has been, and still is, occurring here today. Two men have found their ways rather unexpectedly into these halls over the course of the last two days. The first is still here. His name is Martin Prescott and he is a Muggle. His intentions are quite questionable, but I can assure you that we, your faculty, are prepared to—”
“Thank you, Minerva,” a high, ringing voice interrupted. “I have, in fact, already briefed the students on today’s events. I appreciate your thoroughness, however. Do join us, won’t you?” Sacarhina and Recreant stepped out of the crowd of students and moved to the head of the staircase. Sacarhina’s smile was large and glinting in the dusty light of the tower floor. McGonagall stared down at her for a long moment, and then turned to address the students again. “In that case, I expect you all have classes to attend to. Your professors shall kindly lead you to your classrooms. Let us make what we can with the rest of the day, shall we?”
“Do you really believe it is necessary for classes to go forward today, Minerva?” Sacarhina said when the Headmistress and the rest of the troupe reached the bottom of the steps. “This is rather an unusual day.”
“Unusual days are the best days for classes, Miss Sacarhina,” McGonagall replied, stepping past the woman. “Reminds everyone why we are here in the first place. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Harry,” Mr. Recreant said, smiling a bit too enthusiastically. “I admit, Brenda and I hadn’t expected to see you here today. Family occasion, is it?” He turned his grin on James, and then flashed it over Ralph and Zane as well.
Harry smiled stiffly. “I’m equally surprised to see the two of you here. I didn’t see any paperwork about a return trip to meet with the Alma Alerons. And I’ve been doing an awful lot of paperwork, as you know.”
Sacarhina took Harry’s arm, and he allowed her to lead him out of the tower, following the last of the students. “Very unexpected, this is,” she said in a confidential tone of voice. “Dreadful situation. Surely Minerva told you about it? Martin Prescott, a Muggle reporter, right here on the grounds. Still, the Ministry feels it is inevitable, really.”
“Does it?” Harry said, stopping near the door and facing Sacarhina. “So Loquatious Knapp knows about this?”
“The Minister is aware of the general direction events have been leading,” Recreant interjected. “We hadn’t chosen to bother him with the particulars, per se.”
“So he doesn’t, in fact, know you are here?” Harry said, dropping his thin smile.
“Harry,” Sacarhina said silkily, “the fact is that this sort of scenario is exactly the purview of the Department of Ambassadorial Relations. You, of course, do not require the signature of the Minister for every little maneuver of the Auror Department. Nor do we require his approval when dealing with the execution of our daily duties. Do you intend to stay for the day?”
“I believe so, Brenda,” Harry answered calmly. “I am curious to see what the Department of Ambassadorial Relations does to execute its daily duties in such a situation. Besides, surely you’d agree that an outside, objective witness might prove helpful in case of any��� inquiries?”
“Suit yourself, Mr. Potter,” Sacarhina said, her smile snapping shut like a jewelry box. “It will all be over by four o’clock this afternoon. Prescott’s crew will arrive and they will get their tour. There is hardly any way to prevent it, after all, considering Mr. Prescott’s very ingenious fail-safes. You may accompany us, but please do not attempt to interfere. It would not go well for you. But I am sure I do not need to tell you that, do I?”
“Did you have a nice snooze down there by the front doors?” Zane said lightly as Sacarhina turned away. She stopped, and then very slowly turned back toward Zane.
“Whatever could you mean, young man?” she asked. Harry was looking at Zane with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
Zane went on, “You two were both down there to meet Merlin when he made his grand entrance last night, but he was apparently looking for bigger fish than you, wasn’t he? He gave you both the old evil eye and froze you on the spot. Come on, now, that’s gotta hurt.”
Sacarhina’s smile eased back onto her face, as if it was the default expression at times when her brain was working hard on something else. Her eyes moved back to Harry. “I simply don’t know what you’ve been filling these poor children’s heads with, Mr. Potter, but it really doesn’t do for Ministry officials to tell such stories. Merlin, of all things.” She shook her head vaguely, then turned and walked through the archway with Mr. Recreant following nervously.
“You sure have a way with people, Zane,” Harry said, grinning and ruffling the boy’s hair.
“My dad says it’s a gift,” Zane agreed. “My mom says it’s a curse. Who can tell?”
“It looked like Miss Sacarhina was more confused than angry,” Ralph mused as they walked through the archway, leaving the Sylvven Tower.
“Could be,” Harry replied. “It might be that everyone Merlin put to sleep forgot about him as well. She may have no recollection of his coming last night.”
“So she still expects him to show up when she takes Prescott and his crew on the grand tour?”
“Perhaps. Although it won’t trip her up for long when he doesn’t show. Merlin’s probably halfway across the Forbidden Forest by now, getting directions from the tree sprites, now that they’re apparently awakened.”
James stopped in the middle of the corridor. A few paces later, Harry stopped as well and turned to look back at his son. James’ face was wide-eyed and thoughtful. Suddenly, he blinked and looked at his dad.
“I need to go to the Forbidden Forest,” he said. “It’s not too late. Dad, will you come with me? Zane, Ralph, you too?”
Harry didn’t ask his son any questions. He studied James’ face for several seconds, and then glanced down at Zane and Ralph. “What do you two think? You up for playing a little hooky?”
James walked purposefully into the forest, followed at a short distance by Harry, Zane, and Ralph. He threaded through the smaller trees at the perimeter, heading into the deeper heart of the forest, where the trees were huge and ancient and the sun was all but blocked out by rafters of dense foliage. For several minutes, the foursome walked in silence, and then, finally, James stopped. He turned on the spot, looking up into the shushing leaves and gently creaking branches. There were no other sounds. Harry, Zane, and Ralph stood twenty feet away, watching quietly. James closed his eyes for a moment, thinking, and then opened them again and spoke.
“I know a lot of you aren’t awake,” he began, looking up into the looming heights of the trees, “and I know that some of you who are awake aren’t on our side. But the ones who are will hear me, and I hope you’ll help. Merlin is out there somewhere. He may be far, far away by now, but even so, I think you know where he is. He talks to you, and I am betting you talk to him, too. I know tree sprites can talk, because we’ve already met one of you. I have a message for Merlin.”
James stopped and took another deep breath, not entirely sure what he meant to say. It had simply occurred to him that he should try. He had been used by Delacroix to help bring Merlin into the world, despite the best efforts of those who’d wished to prevent it. The knowledge that he’d allowed himself to be manipulated was horrible to him. All this time, he’d believed he was doing good, saving the world from evil, walking in the steps of his hero father. And yet his best intentions had been warped against him, against the world he’d hoped to protect. He’d tried to do it alone, like his dad had done, but he’d failed. He’d aided evil. And now evil expected him to give up. James didn’t
intend to give up, though. Maybe now he could try to help in a different way. It was probably a long shot, probably utterly hopeless, but he had to try. Maybe this was his way, after all.
“Merlin,” James said uncertainly, “you said that Austramaddux made a mistake in bringing you to our time. You said he was selfish, that he just wanted to get out of the duty he swore to you. But Headmistress McGonagall thinks that you’re wrong. She thinks that this is the very time you were meant to return to, because this world needs your help to stop a war that might destroy us all. Well��� I know I’m just a kid, but I think you’re both wrong.”
James glanced back at his dad. Harry gave a small shrug and nodded.
“I listened to everything you said, and what everybody said after you left, and I think you were brought to this time because you need something. You don’t know for sure if you’ve really ever done right or wrong. You don’t know if you controlled your powers or if they controlled you. I think the truth is that the world does need you now, but that you need this world, too. This is your chance—maybe your last chance—to prove that you are a good wizard after all. People have wondered for centuries whether you were good or bad, but who cares what the rest of history says about you? If you know in your own heart that you did the right thing when it really mattered, then it doesn’t matter what anybody else says. I don’t say this because I understand it myself yet, but at least I’m trying to learn it. You’re in this time no matter what, Merlin. Whoever brought you here means for you to rescue the world, but��� I think you’re also here to be rescued from yourself.”
James finished and sighed. He looked up, craning his neck and squinting, searching the trees for some sign that his message had been heard, and that it might be delivered. The leaves simply continued to skirl and shush in the breeze. The branches creaked quietly to themselves. After a minute, James stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked disconsolately back to his dad, Ralph, and Zane.
Zane clapped James on the shoulder as they turned to leave. “That was the hokiest pile of salami I’ve ever heard,” he said jovially. “But I think you meant it. I liked it, even if it never does get to Merlin’s ears.”
“Did you come up with that all by yourself?” Ralph asked. James shrugged and smiled sheepishly.
Harry didn’t say anything as they walked, but he put his arm around James’ shoulder and kept it there the whole way back. James thought it meant his dad approved, even if it wasn’t the way he himself would have done it. And then James realized, with some contentment, that his dad approved because it wasn’t the way he’d have done it. James smiled and enjoyed that moment of quiet revelation. Maybe learning this truth—the sort of truth that one has to learn on his own, despite all the people who’d tried to teach it with mere words—was worth everything that had happened so far. He only hoped that it was worth more than what might still be to come.
19. Secrets Unveiled
Harry joined James, Zane, and Ralph for a very late breakfast in the house-elf kitchens below the Great Hall. James noticed that the house-elf operating the enormous stove bellows was the grumpy house-elf who’d told the three boys they were on probation. He eyed them with unguarded suspicion, but didn’t say anything. They crowded at a tiny table beneath an even tinier window and ate plates of kippers and toast and drank pumpkin juice and black tea. Finally, Harry suggested that the boys take a break and get cleaned up. They were still dressed in the clothes they had worn during the failed broomstick caper of the day before, and they were all decidedly grubby from their night in the forest. James was weary to the bone as well, and determined that he would collapse on his bed for at least ten minutes, school crisis or not.
On the way to the common room, James decided to take a detour to the hospital wing to collect his backpack. Philia Goyle and Murdock were no longer guarding the doors, of course, but James was surprised to see Hagrid crammed onto one of the benches nearby, flipping through a thick magazine called Beasts and Boondocks. He glanced up, closing the magazine.
“James, good to see yeh,” he said warmly, apparently trying to keep his voice quiet. “Heard yeh was back safe and sound. Seen your father, then, I’d wager?”
“Yeah, just left him,” James answered, peeking into the cracked doors of the hospital wing. “What are you doing here, Hagrid?”
“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? I’m keepin’ watch, I am. Nobody in nor out ‘less it’s by permission o’ the Headmistress. Needs his rest and ‘cuperation, after all he’s been through.”
“Who?” James asked, suddenly interested. He peered more closely into the crack between the doors. There was a shape lying still on one of the beds, but James couldn’t make out any features.
“Why, Professor Jackson, a’course!” Hagrid said, standing and joining James by the doors. He peeked over James’ head with one beady black eye. “Haven’t you heard? Showed up in the courtyard ‘alf an hour ago, looking quite a fright,” he whispered. “Caused no end o’ commotion when the students out there caught sight of ‘im. We brought ‘im in here straight away and I was given the post of keepin’ an eye on the doors while Madam Curio ‘tended to ‘im.”
James looked up at Hagrid. “He’s injured?”
“That’s what we thought at first,” Hagrid said, stepping back. “But Madam Curio says he’s all right except for a few broken ribs, some burns on ‘is arms, a nasty bruise on the skull and about a million cuts and scratches. He’s been in a duel, she’s says, and a long one, at that. Happened during the night, out in the forest. That’s all we could get out of ‘im before he conked out.”
“A duel?” James repeated, knitting his brow. “But Delacroix broke his wand!”
“Did she?” Hagrid said, impressed. “Now, why’d she go and do a thing like that, then?”
“She was the one he was dueling against, Hagrid,” James said tiredly. “He and she��� look, I’ll explain later. But I saw her break his wand in two pieces. I saw the bits. He left them behind.”
“Weerrrll���,” Hagrid said, resuming his seat and producing a long, pained groan from the bench. “He’s American, y’ know. They like to carry more’n one wand around. Comes from all that old Wild West lore and all. They sticks ‘em in their boots and up their sleeves and hide ‘em in their canes and such. Everybody knows that, don’t they?”
James peered into the crack of the hospital doors again, but he still couldn’t make anything of the shape on the mattress. “Sorry, Professor,” he said quietly. “But I hope you gave her royal hell.”
“What’s that, James?” Hagrid said, glancing up.
“I just came for my backpack,” James answered quickly. “I left it in there last night.”
“I don’t s’pose yeh might want to come back later for it, would yeh?” Hagrid asked earnestly. “Only I’ve got my orders, here. Nobody in nor out. The Headmistress thinks that whoever attacked Jackson might come looking for him. Can’t rule out it was that crazy nutter pretending to be Merlin.”
“It was Delacroix, Hagrid. But yeah. I can come back later. Good work.”
Hagrid nodded, and then flopped his magazine open onto his lap again. James turned and headed back the way he’d come.
The Gryffindor common room was empty. The fire in the grate had burned down to red embers, but it had warmed up enough outside that it wasn’t necessary anyway. In fact, as James headed up the stairs to the sleeping quarters, he felt a gust of cool, fresh air push past him. Someone had apparently left a window open upstairs. He was just wondering if he should shut it or not when he topped the landing and saw Merlin reclined comfortably on his bed.
“Here is my little counselor, after all,” Merlin said, looking up and lowering James’ Technomancy textbook.
James glanced at the open window next to his bed, then back to Merlin. “You,” he said, his mind boggling slightly. “Did you���” He pointed uncertainly at the window.
“Did I fly in through it?” Merlin said, laying the book aside alm
ost reverently. “Lofted upon the wings of my skyborne brethren? What do you think, James Potter?”
James closed his mouth, realizing that this was a kind of test. He pushed his first thoughts aside and looked around.
“No,” he answered. “No, actually, I think you just opened the window because you like the air.”
“I like the scents of the air, especially this time of year,” the great wizard replied, looking toward the open window. “The essence of growth and life comes from the earth now, filling the sky. Even the nonmagicked feel it. They say that ‘love’ is in the air in springtime. It’s close enough to the truth not to matter, but it isn’t love of a man and a woman. It is the love of dirt for root, and leaf for sunlight, and yes, wing for air.”
“But you wanted me to believe that you came in through the window, didn’t you?” James said, feeling carefully emboldened.
Merlin smiled slightly and studied James. “Nine-tenths of magic happens in the mind, James Potter. The greatest trick of all is to know what your audience expects to see, and making sure they do.”
James approached another bed and sat on it. “Is this what you came to talk about? Or are you here because you got my message?”
“I have been privy to many things since you last saw me,” the wizard answered. “I have moved in and out, to and fro. I have conversed with many old friends, reacquainted myself with the earth and the beasts and the air. I have met very strange things in the forest, articles of this age, and learned much of the way the world is in this time. I have studied you yourself and your people.”
James smiled slowly, realizing something. “You never left us! You vanished from the top of the tower, let us think you flew off with the birds, but you didn’t go anywhere, did you? You just turned invisible!”
James Potter and the Hall of the Elders' Crossing Page 50
