James shrugged, and looked at Ralph. The look on Ralph’s face mirrored what James was thinking. Stupid or not, somebody had indeed led a Muggle onto the Hogwarts grounds. How or why that had been arranged was still a mystery, but James intended to do his best to find out.
The four of them lunched on sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, taken from the Hogwarts kitchens that morning, then settled into companionable silence. The day became hard and bright, with the sun shining like a diamond over the marching fields and woods. The frost had burned away, leaving the ground raw and grey. The skeletal trees scoured at the sky, standing on carpets of dead leaves. Ralph read and napped. Victoire flipped through a pile of magazines, then wandered off in search of a few friends she suspected were somewhere on board. Ted taught James to play a game called ‘Winkles and Augers’, which involved using wands to levitate a piece of parchment folded into the shape of a fat triangle. According to Ted, both players used their wands--the winkles--to simultaneously levitate the folded parchment--the auger-each one trying to guide the paper into their designated goal area, usually a circle drawn on a piece of parchment and placed near their opponent. James had gotten marginally better at levitation, but he was no match for Ted, who knew just how to undercut James’ wandwork, bobbing the auger out of range and swooping it onto his goal with a resounding smack.
“It’s all about practice, James,” Ted said. “I’ve been playing this since my first year. We’ve had as many as four people on a team sometimes, and used augers as big as the bust of Godric Gryffindor in the common room. I’m personally responsible for the fact that his left ear’s been glued back on. Didn’t know the Reparo charm back then, and now we’ve come to rather prefer him that way.”
By the time the train pulled into Platform Nine and Three Quarters, dusk had begun to turn the sky a dreamy lilac color. James, Ted, and Ralph waited for the lurch as the train came to a full stop, then stood, stretched, and made their way out to the platform.
The porter took their tickets, then produced their trunks with an Accio spell, sucking each trunk rather roughly out of the baggage compartment and plunking it at its owner’s feet. Victoire caught up with them as they piled their trunks onto a large cart.
“I’m to escort you all to the old headquarters,” Ted said importantly, drawing himself to his full height. “It’s close enough, and your parents are pretty busy tonight, James, what with everyone else arriving, and Lily and Albus just getting out of school today as well.”
They filed through the hidden portal that separated Platform Nine and Three Quarters from the Muggle platforms of King’s Cross station.
“You don’t drive, Ted,” Victoire said reproachfully. “And you’ll hardly fit the four of us on your broom. What do you expect to do?”
“I suppose you’re right, Victoire,” Ted said, stopping in the center of the concourse and looking around. Muggle travelers moved around them, hurrying here and there, most bundled into heavy coats and hats. The huge concourse echoed with the sound of train announcements and the tinkly din of recorded Christmas carols.
“Looks like we’re stuck,” Ted said mildly. “I’d say this is an emergency of sorts, wouldn’t you?”
“Ted, no!” Victoire scolded as Ted raised his right hand, his wand sticking up out of it.
There was a loud crack that echoed all around the concourse, apparently unheard by the milling Muggles. A huge, purple shape shot through the doors framed in the gigantic glassed arch at the head of the concourse. It was, of course, the Knight Bus. James had known to expect it when Ted had made the signal, but he’d never known it could travel off-road. The enormous triple-decker bus dodged and squeezed through the oblivious crowd, never losing speed until it squeaked violently to a halt directly in front of Ted. The doors shuttled open and a man in a natty, purple uniform leaned out.
“Welcome to the Knight Bus,” the man said, a bit huffily. “Emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. You know this is the middle of effing King’s Cross station, don’t you? Seems like you could’ve at least made it to the front step.”
“Evening, Frank,” Ted said airily, hoisting Victoire’s trunk up to the conductor. “It’s this bad leg of mine again. Old Quidditch injury. Acts up at the worst of times.”
“Old Quidditch injury my topmost granny’s last molar,” Frank muttered, stacking the trunks on a shelf just inside the door. “You try pulling that gaf one more time and I’m going to charge you a Galleon just for being a nuisance.”
Ralph was reluctant to get onto the bus. “You say it’s close? This headquarters place? Maybe we could, you know, walk?”
“In this cold?” Ted replied heartily.
“And with his bad leg?” Frank added sourly.
Ralph climbed on and had no sooner crossed the threshold when the doors slammed shut.
“Corner of Pancras and St. Chad’s, Ernie,” Ted called, grabbing a nearby brass handle.
The driver nodded, set his face grimly, gripped the steering wheel as if he meant to wrestle it, then punched the accelerator. Ralph, despite James’ advice, had forgotten to grab onto something. The Knight Bus rocketed forward, throwing him backwards onto one of the brass beds that, strangely enough, seemed to occupy the lowest level of the bus instead of seats.
“Hmmph?” the sleeping wizard that Ralph had landed on muttered, raising his head from the pillow. “Grosvenor Square already?”
The bus performed an inconceivably tight hairpin turn, circling a group of tourists who were staring up at the departures board, then rocketed across the concourse again, whipping around businessmen and old ladies like a gust of wind. The glassed arch loomed over them, and James was certain the Knight Bus couldn’t possibly fit through the open doorways, large as they were. Then he remembered that the bus had, indeed, come in through those doors. He braced himself. Without slowing, the bus squeezed through the door like a water balloon through a mousehole, popping out onto the crowded street and swerving wildly.
“I hear we’re having goose for dinner tonight!” Ted called to James as the bus careened through a busy intersection.
“Yeah!” James called back. “Kreacher insisted on a full course meal our first night back!”
“Gotta love that ugly little brute!” Ted yelled appreciatively. “How’s Ralph doing?”
James glanced around. Ralph was still sprawled on the bed with the sleeping wizard. “It’s all right,” he yelled, clutching the bed with both hands. “I threw up in the souvenir sleeping cap they gave me.”
The Knight Bus screamed around the corner where St. Chad’s Street met Argyle Square, then jammed to a halt. If anything, the sudden cessation of motion was as jarring as the ride itself. The gigantic purple bus sat quietly and primly, puttering a dainty cloud of exhaust. The doors shuttled open and Ted, Victoire, James, and Ralph clambered out, the latter a little drunkenly. Frank, despite the rankled look he shot Ted, stacked their trunks carefully on the sidewalk and bid them a happy Christmas. The doors cranked shut and a moment later, the Knight Bus leapt down the street, streaking around a lorry and performing something rather like a pirouette at the intersection. Three seconds later, it was gone.
“That worked as well as could be expected,” Ted said heartily, grabbing his and Victoire’s trunks by the handle and yanking them toward a line of dilapidated row houses.
“What number is it?” Ralph said, puffing and dragging his huge trunk.
“Number twelve. Right here,” James replied. He had been to the old headquarters so many times he’d forgotten that it was invisible to most people. Ralph stopped at the base of the steps, his brow furrowed and frowning.
“Oh yeah,” James said, turning around. “OK, Ralph. You can’t see it yet, but it’s right here. Number twelve Grimmauld Place, right here between eleven and thirteen. It used to belong to my dad’s godfather, Sirius Black, but he willed it to Dad. It was the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, back in the day when they were fighting Voldemort. They buried it with the
best Secrecy Spells and Disillusionment Charms all the most powerful good wizards at the time could conjure. It was the best kept secret place of the Order, until right at the end, when a Death Eater followed my aunt here using Side-Along Apparition. Anyway, it officially still belongs to Dad, but we don’t live here most of the time. Kreacher keeps it up when we’re not here.”
“I didn’t understand about every third word of that,” Ralph said, sighing, “but I’m cold. How do we get in?”
James reached down for Ralph’s hand. Ralph gave it to him, and James pulled him up onto the first step of the landing leading into number twelve. Ralph stumbled, regained his footing and looked up. His eyes widened and a grin of delight spread across his face. James had no memory of his first visit to the old headquarters, but he knew from other people’s descriptions how the doorway revealed itself the first time you arrived, how number twelve simply pushed numbers eleven and thirteen aside like a man shouldering his way through a crowd. James couldn’t help grinning back at Ralph’s wonderment.
“I love being a wizard,” Ralph said meaningfully.
As James slammed the door, his mum strode quickly toward him from the hall, wiping her hands on a towel. “James!” she cried, gathering him into her arms and nearly yanking him off his feet.
“Mum,” James said, embarrassed and pleased. “Come on, you’re gonna melt the Chocolate Frog in my shirt pocket already.”
“You’re not too old to give your mum a kiss after being gone for four months, you know,” she chided him.
“You know how it is,” Ted exclaimed mournfully. “One moment, they’re yanking your apron strings, the next, they’re asking to borrow the broom to go snogging with some crumpet. Where does the time go?”
James’ mum grinned, turning to Ted and embracing him as well. “Ted, you never change. Or shut up. Welcome. And you too, Victoire. Adorable hat, by the way.” Ralph groaned, but James’ mum went on before Victoire could offer any pointed explanation. “And you are Ralph, of course. Harry mentioned you, and of course, James has told me loads about you in his letters. My name’s Ginny. I hear you are quite the wand master.”
“Where is Dad, by the way?” James asked quickly, cutting Victoire off again.
“He picked up Andromeda after work today. They should be home soon enough. Everyone else will be here tomorrow.”
“James!” two smaller voices chimed in unison, to the accompaniment of thundering footsteps. “Ted! Victoire!” Lily and Albus shoved past their mum. “What’d you bring us?” Albus demanded, stopping in front of James.
“Direct from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” James said grandly, “I bring you both… hugs!” He grabbed Albus in a bear hug. Albus pushed and struggled, simultaneously laughing and annoyed.
“No! I wanted some Drooble's Best Blowing Gum from the cart lady! I told you!” Ted squatted down and squeezed Lily. “I got you something you’ll love, my dear.”
“What is it?” she asked, suddenly shy.
“You’ll have to wait until Christmas, won’t you? Your mummy’s all stocked up on dragon kibble, isn’t she?”
“Ted Lupin!” Ginny snapped. “Don’t get her hopes up, you rogue. Now come on, all of you. Kreacher’s been in the basement all afternoon preparing what he calls ‘a fitting and proper tea service’. Don’t fill up, though, or you’ll not be hungry for the goose he cooked, and he’ll sulk all week.”
Harry and Ted’s grandmum, Andromeda Tonks, arrived half an hour later, and the rest of the evening was a whirlwind of food, happy laughter, and catching up. Harry and Ginny, it turned out, hadn’t even listened to the Hogwarts debate, despite what James had assumed. Andromeda Tonks had, though, and was full of endless vitriol for Tabitha Corsica and her team. Fortunately, she had no idea whatsoever that Ralph had also been on the team, and Ralph was all too happy to allow her to continue in that ignorance.
“Don’t worry,” Ted murmured to Ralph over dessert, “if anybody says anything, I’ll tell her you were a spy operating undercover. She loves espionage, does the old dear.”
Kreacher hadn’t changed a single iota. He bowed low to James, one hand over his heart, the other spread wide. “Master James, come back from his first year of schooling, he has,” he warbled in his bullfrog voice. “Kreacher has prepared Master’s quarters just the way he likes them. Would Master and his friend care for a watercress sandwich?”
Kreacher had, as usual, kept the house in exceptional order, and had even gone to the trouble to decorate for the holidays. Unfortunately, Kreacher’s concept of good cheer was a bit rustic, and the result would have amused Zane endlessly. The severed heads of the previous house-elves, which still hung in the hallway as a testament to the original pureblood owners of the estate, had been dressed with fake, white beards and conical, green caps with jingle bells on the tips.
“Kreacher had bewitched them to sing holiday songs, too, he did,” Kreacher told James and Ralph a bit petulantly. “But the missus decided that that was perhaps a bit too… festive. Kreacher liked it, though, just the same.” He seemed to be angling to be allowed to reinstate the caroling heads. James assured Kreacher that it had been a wonderfully inventive idea and he’d talk to his mum about it. He was, in fact, morbidly curious to see and hear the heads in action.
Both Lily and Albus followed James and Ralph around most of the night, begging to see what the boys could do with their newly learned skills.
“Come on, James!” Albus demanded. “Show us a levitation! Levitate Lily!”
“No!” Lily cried. “Levitate Albus! Fly him out the window!” “You both know I can’t do magic once I’m off the train and officially out of Hogwarts,” James said wearily. “I’ll get in trouble.”
“Dad’s Head Auror, you git. You probably won’t even get a warning.”
“It’s irresponsible,” James said seriously. “You get older and you’ll know what that means.”
“You can’t do it, can you?” Albus taunted. “James can’t do a levitation! Some wizard you are. First Squib in the Potter family. Mum will die of shame.”
“You’re the same Albus-blabbus you ever were, you little skrewt.”
“Don’t call me that!”
“What, skrewt or Albus-blabbus?” James smiled. “You know Albus-blabbus is your real name, don’t you? It’s on your birth certificate. I saw it.”
“Albus-blabbus!” Lily sang, dancing around her older brother.
Albus jumped on James, wrestling him to the floor.
Later, as James and Ralph headed to James’ bedroom for the night, they passed a curtain that seemed to be drawn over a section of wall. A sleepy muttering came from behind it.
“Old Mrs. Black,” James explained. “Crazy old nutter. Wigs out about people desecrating the house of her fathers and stuff every time she sees any of us. Dad and Neville have done everything they could think of to get the old bat off the wall, but she’s stuck there right good. Even considered cutting out the section of wall with the portrait on it, but it’s a main wall. Cutting her out would probably bring the next floor right down on top of us. Besides, strange as it may seem, Kreacher’s rather attached to her, since she was his old mistress. So I suppose she’s part of the family forever.”
Ralph peeked tentatively behind the curtain. He furrowed his brow. “Is she… watching television?”
James shrugged. “We discovered that a few years back. We had the front door open because we were moving in a new sofa. She saw a telly through the window across the street and shut right up for the first time in weeks. So we hired a wizard artist to come and paint one right into her portrait. Crazy old bat loves the chat shows. Ever since then, well, she’s been a lot more bearable.”
Ralph slowly let the curtain drape back over the portrait. A man’s voice behind it was saying, “And when did you first notice that your dog had Tourette’s syndrome, Mrs. Drakemont?”
Kreacher had arranged a cot for Ralph in James’ room. His trunk was placed neatly at the end of
it, and there was a ribbon-wrapped pinecone on each pillow, apparently Kreacher’s idea of a Christmas mint.
“This used to be my dad’s godfather’s room,” James said sleepily, once they had settled down. “Cool,” Ralph muttered. “Good guy, was he? Or was he a nutter, like the old witch in the portrait?”
“One of the best guys ever, according to Dad. We’ll have to tell you about him sometime. He was wanted for murder for over a decade.”
There was a minute of silence, and then Ralph’s voice spoke in the darkness. “You wizards can be pretty bloody confusing, you know that?” James grinned. A minute later, both of them were asleep.
11. The Three Relics
After the initial excitement of travel and arrivals, Christmas break at Grimmauld Place became rather humdrum. James introduced Ralph to everyone, and Ralph very shortly became simply one more of the throng of friends and family that crammed the house. On the Wednesday before Christmas, Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione arrived, along with their children, Hugo and Rose. They were followed shortly thereafter by Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur, Victoire’s parents. James was very fond of them all, and even though the house was beginning to feel rather strained to capacity, he was thrilled they were staying over through the break.
James Potter and the Hall of Elders' Crossing Page 28
