The Curse of the GateKeeper (James Potter #2)

by G. Norman Lippert

  James looked skeptical. "Fiona Fourcompass told you that? How would she know?"

  "She saw Professor Curry earlier today, outside her office," Rose explained earnestly. "She was unpacking from her trip and she told Fiona about the assembly. She said afternoon classes will let out early so everyone can attend."

  "Did she mention what the big deal was?" Ralph asked.

  Rose shook her head. "She didn't say, and Fiona didn't ask. I'm really curious though."

  "Well," James replied, "she had us playing football last year, and that was actually pretty fun. Maybe it'll be something like that. But why the whole school at once?"

  "That'd be quite a football match," Ralph agreed.

  A little while later, James, Ralph, and Rose noticed it was getting rather late. Most of the other students had gone and the librarian was blowing out the lanterns near the deserted tables. The three packed their books, quills, and parchments into their bags and threaded their way through the bookshelves.

  "Hey, Rose," James asked, "have you started your Wizlit homework yet?"

  "The King of the Cats essay? I finished it first thing. Why?"

  James glanced at her. "Just curious, that's all. It wasn't… difficult?"

  Rose shouldered her book bag. "Man walks through the woods, sees a bunch of mice having a funeral procession, follows them, so on and so forth. Easiest homework I had all night."

  James frowned thoughtfully. "Oh. Well, good."

  "I got a little confused when I got to the part with the skunk though," Rose added, angling toward the library doors.

  "The skunk?" Ralph asked, blinking.

  "Yeah. I couldn't remember if it was in front of the stairs or sitting on them. I forgot the color of its stripe too. It was green, right?"

  Ralph stared at her, and then looked back at James. James shrugged and shook his head.

  As they left the library, James saw that there was one other person still there. Sitting at a table in the rear alcove, alone in a pool of lamplight, was Petra. Her head was lowered, her long dark hair hanging on either side of her face like a curtain. On the table in front of her was a single piece of parchment. James waited to see if she'd look up, but she never moved. It pained him a little to see Petra so suddenly melancholy. He considered calling to her but decided not to. Most likely, he would see her later in the common room anyway. Perhaps she'd be in better spirits then.

  James said goodnight to Ralph as they parted ways at the stairs. Rose accompanied James to the common room where they sat by the fireplace and watched a rowdy Winkles and Augers match for a while. Finally, they headed up the stairs to their respective dormitories. Scorpius was already in bed. He was sitting up, reading a book called True Stories of Dragons and Dragon Hunters. He was wearing his rimless spectacles, and they did, in fact, manage to make him look more dashing than dorky. He glanced over his glasses as James entered the room.

  "Nice bedtime story," James muttered.

  "Would you prefer The Three Foolish Harridans?" Scorpius drawled, turning a page. "Or maybe one of Revalvier's old bedtime stories about your father?"

  James threw back the blankets on his new bed. The words 'WHINY POTTER GIT' still glowed a faint purple on the headboard. James' efforts to remove them had been entirely unsuccessful. He dressed in his pyjamas and climbed under the covers, throwing a disgruntled look at Scorpius.

  "I hear your brother is looking good to make the Slytherin Quidditch team," Scorpius commented, his eyes still on his book.

  James sat up again. "You keeping close tabs on your dad's house, Scorpius? Is he planning to come for the matches? I wonder who he'll support. A bit of a stumper, that one."

  "I understand Albus is riding Corsica's broom," Scorpius said, finally looking James in the eye.

  James met Scorpius' gaze, unsure what to say. Was Scorpius teasing him? Or was this some kind of warning? "Yeah, I know," James finally admitted. "I saw him. So what?"

  "I had flying with dear little Albus earlier this week, along with your cousin Rose. Improved since then, has he?"

  James rolled over. "What's it to you anyway?"

  "Nothing, really," Scorpius said. "Just trying to make a little conversation. You intend to try out for the Gryffindor team, I assume?"

  "Maybe I am," James admitted. "Are you?"

  Scorpius didn't answer right away. James looked back over his shoulder. Scorpius glanced up from his book again. "No, Potter," he said, sighing. "Organized sport is so… parochial. Let's just say I'll be using my talents in less obvious ways."

  James rolled his eyes and flopped over onto his side again. Scorpius was just trying to pique him. That's what his talent was, and apparently, James was his favorite target.

  It wasn't until James was falling asleep that it occurred to him that he had not seen Petra come up to the common room after all.

  James was just finishing his breakfast the next morning when Nobby swooped over him and dropped a letter onto his plate. James scooped it up quickly and waved at Nobby, who banked and flapped upwards through the rafters, disappearing through a window along with the rest of the morning's owls.

  The letter was from Lucy, and it was surprisingly fat.

  "What's that?" Rose asked, leaning toward James.

  "A response from Lucy," James replied, quickly stuffing the letter into his bag.

  "So read it already," Rose said, reaching for another piece of toast.

  James clambered over the bench and stood. "Can't. I have to get to class. I've got to get to the North Tower. Divination this morning."

  "I'm in the same class, James. We have plenty of time."

  "I, uh, left my homework in the dorm. I better go and grab it."

  Rose glared suspiciously at James, but he turned and trotted away before she could argue. He took a rather circuitous route in the direction of the North Tower but stopped at an empty stairway. He sat on the bottom step and retrieved Lucy's letter from his bag. As he tore it open he saw that the parchment was wrapped around a folded newspaper clipping. He read the letter first.

  Dear James,

  Thanks for writing. We're currently at home, which is very nice for me, but not so nice for getting any pictures of anything interesting for Rose, sorry. I had a feeling about Albus. Really, I don't think anyone will be very surprised about his ending up in Slytherin. I wondered if I might end up there myself. Is that awful of me? I do hope it's not. Daddy told me all about your Debellows teacher. He seems quite impressed with him, and is very proud to have met him a few times. I looked up the Gatekeeper like you asked. There was actually quite a lot of information about it. I just had to know where to look. Fortunately, since we're home, I have access to the wizarding library over in Notting Hill. Mum takes me there once a week, although she'd die if she knew what sections I had to go to research this. The Gatekeeper has loads of names, and all of them are pretty scary, which makes sense once you know what it is. According to the old myths, the Gatekeeper is the Guardian between the worlds of the living and the dead. It lives in something called the Transitus Nihilo—the Void between the worlds—and is a purely magical being. Basically, it's just this huge, lurking entity because it has no body and no boundary since it lives in pure nothingness. Supposedly, it doesn't even know about earth or humans because it is too arrogant to assume that there could be any living thing other than itself. But the scariest thing about it is something called 'the Curse of the Gatekeeper'. Salazar Slytherin talked a lot about it. He said it would be his 'Final Judgment' on those that betrayed him. Basically, the Curse says that someday the Gatekeeper will be summoned by a person called the Ambassador, who is a wizard powerful enough to travel into the Void. The Gatekeeper follows the Ambassador back, and its descent is a sign of total doom. Once it's here, the Gatekeeper feeds on horror and pain, sucking it out of people like a vampire sucks blood. The legends say it will study humans, learning how best to terrify them, and in the greatest numbers. Apparently though, it'll need to partner with a willing human host, a host
that will be prepared to kill for it to prove their worth. All the prophecies say this host will be a child of tragedy—probably meaning an orphan, somebody with nothing to lose. Very, very gruesome stuff. I am really curious, James: why are you asking about this? I'd be surprised if you are studying something like this in school. Why do you need to keep it a secret? This is seriously scary old magic. The book I read about it in nearly nipped my thumb off. Tell me, OK? Love, Lucy

  P.S. This is a clipping from a Muggle newspaper I saw on the way home from the library. It's probably nothing, but I couldn't help noticing it after what I'd just read about. It's not connected, do you think?

  James slowly folded the letter, his eyes wide. A cold sweat had beaded on his forehead. Lucy's words were eerily similar to some of the things Farrigan, the skeleton in the cave, had said. But surely, Merlin couldn't really be the Ambassador of such a horrible creature, could he? At least not knowingly. But either way, what if his long trek into the Void had summoned the thing called the Gatekeeper? James shook his head fretfully. The newspaper clipping slipped off his lap and fell onto the floor. James peered at it. He could tell by the colors and typeface that the clipping came from a Muggle tabloid. Reluctantly, he picked it up and unfolded it. He read the headline, grimaced, and then plunged into the article.

  Entire Family Terrorized by 'Alien Ghost Demon'; Two Driven Insane

  The quaint seaside village of Kensington Flats was rocked early this summer by rumors of a ghostly creature residents came to call the 'creature of smoke and ash'. Recognized by its fantastic appearance, the entity appeared on several occasions over the third week of May. In one instance, no less than a dozen villagers claimed to witness the entity in the Colt and Cockerel, a small pub on the village's outskirts. While none were willing to speak directly to Inside View, earlier reports claim that the entity exuded a 'palpable air of horror and panic, resulting in a sense of spreading, even contagious, insanity'.

  These visitations culminated on the night of 17 May when the home of Herbert Bleeker was terrorized for as long as three hours by the entity. Neighbors claimed to hear unearthly noises coming from the house as well as all manner of shrieks and strange lights. Mr. Bleeker, a grocer, along with his wife and adult son, Charlie, were inside the home at the time, although neighbors were apparently too frightened to check on them. The next morning, all three Bleekers were found on their front lawn, looking, as one witness described, 'like they'd had their brains scrambled'. Later checked into an asylum in neighboring Dunfief, the Bleekers were described as unresponsive and delirious.

  Twenty-four hours later, Charlie Bleeker began to respond to doctors. He described the visitation of the entity as an evening of freakish terrors. "It was like it was dissecting our brains from the inside out," Bleeker is heard to have said. "It was like we were radios, and it was tuning us, trying to make us feel the worst horrors imaginable! It was monstrous! Terrible! Like it didn't even know what we were but wasn't going to stop until it found out!"

  Mr. Bleeker slipped back into incoherence after this short outburst, although he appears to be responding moderately well to treatments. His parents, however, remain virtually comatose. Professor Liam Kirkwood of the Department of Paranormal Research at the University of Northern Heatherdown says such manifestations are on the increase. "Similar reports have emerged all across the country, and beyond. Most likely, this is the work of an alien species, researching humankind for its own unknowable reasons. We can only hope that whatever it is, its goals are not as frightening as it initially seems."

  Inside View will follow these occurrences, providing further updates as circumstances dictate.

  Slowly, James folded the tabloid clipping. He stuffed it and Lucy's letter back into the envelope. It couldn't be connected, he told himself. It was just a tabloid story. A lot of them were rather sensational, weren't they? Aliens and monsters and saints' faces being burned onto toast. Even so, the thought of the 'creature of smoke and ash' made him shudder. What if it was the Gatekeeper? What if it was already loosed on the earth and Merlin didn't even know it? Or worse, what if he knew it and was responsible for it? It simply couldn't be. It was too horrible. James determined he would have to find out, one way or another. He didn't know how he'd do it, but he would find a way. Having decided that, he felt a tiny bit better. He put the letter back into his bag, shouldered it, and ran the rest of the way to the North Tower.

  "Hup, hup, students!" Kendrick Debellows cried heartily, pacing the length of the promenade overlooking the lake. "It's not even October yet! The water's still balmy. It's best if you jump in directly. Take it all on one shot and you'll be used to it in no time."

  James stood between Ralph and Graham, his toes curled over the edge of the deck. The water below looked cold and murky. His face reflected back at him, his expression tense and worried.

  "I don't know what's worse," Graham muttered through gritted teeth, "the idea of jumping into that water, or being seen wearing this idiotic outfit."

  None of the students had packed swimwear, of course. Debellows, being rather insufferably persistent in his goals, had somehow located a closet of very old bathing suits once worn by an official Hogwarts water wrestling team. The one-piece suits extended to the elbows and knees and were striped in faded burgundy and grey. A Hogwarts crest was embroidered in the center of the chest.

  "Who ever heard of 'water wrestling', anyway?" Ralph said.

  "Oh, it was huge for a while, back in the old days," Graham replied. "The mermen had a team. You wouldn't think they'd be all that strong, looking at them, but I guess they were really wiry."

  "Students wore these to wrestle mermen?" James said, glancing down at his oversized swimsuit.

  "Yeah, but the mermen cheated sometimes," Graham explained. "The whole event was scrapped when the merman captain was found with a Grindylow hidden under his cape. He was apparently using it to batten on to his opponent and pull them down."

  On the grass bordering the edge of the lake, the second-year girls were supposedly running reflex drills, waving pommel-tipped sticks at each other. Most of them seemed to have abandoned the activity, choosing instead to stand in groups and watch the boys, smirking or looking bored. Debellows ignored them.

  "This is very simple, students," Debellows called. "Jump in, swim out to the buoy, circle it, and swim back to the promenade. It may look far-off, but I assure you it is quite manageable. I did it myself six times just this morning. Brisk, it was! Now, does anyone else not know how to swim?"

  The boys stared grimly, none daring to raise their hands. A few minutes earlier, Ralph's friend Trenton Bloch had admitted he had not yet learned how to swim. This had seemed, to James, a potentially inspired way to get out of the dip into the gloomy lake. Rather than excusing Trenton, however, Debellows had produced a set of inflatable rubber arm floaties. To Trenton's horror, Debellows had blown up the floaties himself, and then rammed them up the boy's arms. Trenton stood miserably at the far end of the promenade, arms akimbo. A couple of girls on the bank snickered at him.

  "This is a test of will, my friends!" Debellows barked. "In the Harriers, not only did we have to learn to swim at distance, but we were trained for water combat, facing all sorts of aquatic beasts, from Snarracudas to Shrieking Eels. You will not face any combat on this endeavor, but we may introduce a Marshweed course later in the spring if Professor Longbottom is able to produce a sufficiently tame hybrid. For now, consider this a pleasure swim. And now, on one… two…" Debellows raised his wand, pointing it skyward. He grinned happily. "Three!" he shouted, firing a loud crack from his wand.

  The boys scuffled, slithered, and variously lowered themselves into the water. Their splashes were accompanied by a chorus of groans and complaints.

  "Are there still mermen in here?" Ralph hissed through his teeth, lowering himself into the cold, black water.

  James nodded. "But my dad says it's the mermaids you have to worry about."

  "That's wonderful," Ralph gasped, dropping
up to his chin and trying not to splash. Gamely, he threw himself into a jerky breaststroke, heading for the orange buoy some fifty yards away. James followed him.

  Ralph was a surprisingly good swimmer. By the time James rounded the buoy, finally getting somewhat accustomed to the water, Ralph was climbing the ladder onto the promenade. Debellows grabbed his hand and hoisted him up, nodding approvingly.

  James completed his lap and grabbed the slick, seaweed-covered ladder. He'd swallowed an accidental gulp of the lake water and it rolled nauseously in his belly as he pulled himself up. He stumbled onto the deck and joined Ralph and Graham. All three stood shivering, streaming water from their oversized swimsuits.

  "Let's double-time it, Bloch!" Debellows boomed, cupping his hands to his mouth. "Pretend you've got a Slagbelly chasing you. It could be true, in fact! I hear they've been sighted on the far side of the lake. And I understand they're attracted to splashes."

  "Professor Debellows," a voice called. James turned, his teeth chattering. Professor McGonagall stood at the castle end of the promenade. She glanced quickly around but kept her face neutral. "The students are expected to be in the amphitheater in fifteen minutes. You do recall that today's class is to be concluded early."

  "We are very nearly finished, Madam," Debellows called, clapping Ralph on the shoulder. "I daresay we will beat you to the assembly if you don't hurry." He turned, addressing the boys on the deck. "You heard the professor! Gather your shoes and form a line. I'll dry you as you pass by, then we'll have ourselves a nice trot around to the amphitheater. You can change afterwards."

  Debellows produced his wand and pointed it at James, who was nearest. A blast of hot air erupted from the tip, pushing James backwards a step. A moment later, he was mostly dry. His hair stuck straight up from his head like a corona.

  "We have to wear these stupid swimsuits to the assembly?" James asked incredulously.

  "They're perfectly decent, Mr. Potter," Debellows replied dismissively. "Even rather stylish, if you ask me. We haven't a moment to lose, students. The amphitheater can be found around the East Rampart. Let's prove ourselves exemplary and precede the rest of the classes there, shall we? Now run, my friends! And Mr. Bloch! Will you be finishing your lap this term, or shall I send Mr. Deedle in to retrieve you?"