As he left the Great Hall, James felt a nagging, anonymous worry. It was as if he was forgetting something important, but he couldn't identify what it might be. Even as he moved through the halls and corridors, there was a sense of anxious anticipation in the air. Students moved in groups, obviously engrossed in spirited conversation, awaiting the evening's events. James sighed nervously and turned the corner toward the gym.
"There you are," Rose said, as if she'd expected James hours ago. "The gym is almost ready. There are already people waiting outside in the hall. We just need to roll up the floor pads and wheel in one of the chalkboards."
"Why do we need a chalkboard?" James asked.
Rose gave him an impatient glance. "So we can write down the spells and hexes we practice. It'll be a lot easier for people to concentrate if they don't have to memorize the incantations on the spot. There's a chalkboard on casters over in the Charms classroom, next hall over. Go and wheel it in here and we'll be ready to get started."
Annoyed at being ordered around but glad of the distraction, James turned around and left the gym. Sure enough, students were gathering in the hall outside. They leaned against the wall and sat on the floor in loose groups, all of them looking up as James came out.
"We'll, er, start in just a few minutes," James said, trying to put some authority into his voice. Nearby, Cameron Creevey grinned and waved. A gaggle of first-years stood with him, their eyes wide and excited. James blinked at the gathering students. There was a good number of them, although not as many as he'd expected. He should have been relieved, but he wasn't. That nagging worry crept over him again. What was he forgetting?
James worked his way around to the next corridor, which was darker and completely deserted. He got to the Charms classroom and found it unlocked. The chalkboard stood on a wooden frame in the corner. Tiny metal wheels were attached to the bottom. James grabbed the end of the frame and began to pull, but the wheels were rusty. They squealed and dragged on the floor.
From the doorway, a voice asked, "Do you require some assistance, Mr. Potter?"
James spun as if he'd been caught doing something illegal. Merlin stood in the doorway, almost completely blocking it. His form was very shadowy in the dim room.
"I'm—" James began, surprised that he felt so nervous. After all, they had permission to hold the club meeting, didn't they? And yet he felt a strong reluctance to tell the Headmaster what he was doing. "I'm just trying to move the chalkboard. We, er, wanted to borrow it. To make some notes."
Merlin nodded inscrutably. "How are preparations for your defensive techniques club coming along, James?"
James' heart quickened. "Uh… good. Fine. We've been pretty busy, you know. But… good."
"Would you like some assistance with that?" Merlin asked in his low, rumbling voice. "I'd be happy to help you relocate it to wherever you wish. If anyone wondered what you were up to, I could vouch for your 'borrowing' it."
"No, thanks," James said quickly, letting go of the chalkboard. "Actually, we probably don't really need it. It was just an idea, but it's not worth the trouble. Really."
Merlin didn't move for a long moment. Finally, he seemed to relax and smile. "As you wish, James."
The big man turned to leave, and James felt a huge, strange sense of relief as Merlin's gaze left him. The club would just have to do without the chalkboard, James determined. He crossed the darkened classroom and was nearly to the door when Merlin turned back, his eyes glittering in the dark corridor.
"Honestly, I didn't expect you to be inside tonight, James," the big wizard said curiously.
James didn't quite know how to respond. "Er… no? Where did you expect me to be?"
"Tonight is rather an important night for many students. I understand that even those who do not intend to participate rather enjoy watching the proceedings. They like to get a sense of how the season might progress."
A sudden sinking sensation filled James. His cheeks went cold. "Oh no…," he said, widening his eyes. "It's tonight! That's why there were fewer people than I expected in the hall! It's already started!"
"Is it possible that you forgot?" Merlin said, a strange smile creeping over his face. "I assumed you were quite the fan of Quidditch. If you hurry, I expect you may still see the end of the try-outs."
James barely heard him. He turned on his heels and bolted along the corridor, cursing his forgetfulness. If he'd not been so obsessed with worrying about the stupid Defence Club, he'd have known that the first meeting conflicted with Quidditch try-outs. Neither Rose nor Ralph was trying out for the teams, so they wouldn't even have considered the conflict. James had been practicing all summer for the opportunity to be on the Gryffindor House team. He desperately wanted to make up for his devastating performance at last year's try-outs. Also, Albus was out there even now, trying out for the Slytherin team on Tabitha Corsica's cursed broomstick. James felt an obsessive impulse to be there when that happened, but he truthfully didn't know if it was because he wanted to protect Albus or sabotage him.
James pounded up the steps, calling out the password to the common room. The Fat Lady scolded him for broadcasting the password to the entire hall, but James barely heard her, shimmying through the portrait hole the moment the painting began to swing open. James grabbed his broom from beneath his bed, took the stairs two at a time down to the common room, and felt another stab of panic as he crossed the empty room. Everyone was already down at the pitch, cheering, watching the try-outs, supporting the team. James was supposed to be there!
The Fat Lady was still scolding James as he pushed through the portrait hole and flung himself down the stairs. How could he have forgotten? If he thought it was possible, he'd almost believe that Tabitha Corsica had somehow arranged for him to be absent, simply so he couldn't interfere with Albus' try-out. At the same time, a distant part of him worried that he was missing the first Defence Club meeting. Rose would probably realize where he'd gone as soon as she noticed his absence, but still, it would be a disappointment and a setback. Had Merlin appeared at that exact moment just to sabotage the first Defence Club meeting? After all, the Headmaster certainly had uncanny ways of knowing what was happening around the school. Merlin would know how important Quidditch was to James. Was it possible that he had bewitched James to forget the try-outs, just so he could strategically remind him at the last minute, thus keeping him from the club meeting?
Frustrated and annoyed, James burst out of the castle's main entrance and darted across the courtyard. As he turned toward the Quidditch pitch, he heard the maddening sound of cheers and whistles. It was nearly dark, but James could make out the shapes of the Quidditch players circling over the pitch, their cloaks snapping gaily in the wind. It was too late, but James couldn't bring himself to turn back. He cursed his luck again. How could he have forgotten Quidditch try-outs? He wouldn't have believed it was possible. What would he tell his mum and dad? How would he live it down with his housemates? Certainly, Scorpius Malfoy would make the most of it. I see, Potter, he'd say, you forgot the try-outs, did you? Strange. And we were all so looking forward to being amazed and impressed by your performance. Perhaps you'll remember next year.
The crowd was departing even as James arrived at the pitch. He found himself wading upstream through the throng, not really knowing what he was looking for but refusing to give up. He considered getting onto his broom and simply flying out over the pitch, but he was reluctant to draw too much attention to himself. He finally shouldered onto the grass of the pitch and spied the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, Devindar Das, collecting the house brooms.
"Dev!" James called, panting. "Tell me it isn't too late!"
Devindar stopped and looked back. "Where were you, James? It's all over. I was looking forward to seeing what you could do this year."
"I completely forgot… somehow…," James admitted desperately. "Let me go anyway! I'm ready!"
Devindar shook his head. "I can't, James. All the positions are filled already. Hones
tly, we had a pretty strong lineup going in. We'll need you more next year, once Hugo and Tara graduate."
James was speechless. He stood on the spot, breathing hard from his sprint out to the pitch. He glared helplessly around at the departing students and players. Louis Weasley was approaching from the Hufflepuff grandstand.
"What happened to you, James?" Louis called. "Albus was looking for you after the Slytherin tryouts."
James ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't even want to talk about it. How did Albus do?"
"Oh, he was totally brilliant," Louis replied enthusiastically. "Victoire says he was the best first-year try-out she's ever seen. I bet he was the best since your dad, even! He's going to be Slytherin's Seeker. It's perfect, in a way, don't you think? I mean, your dad was Seeker for Gryffindor his first—"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it Louis," James interrupted sourly. "Is he gone already?"
"Yeah, the whole team headed back together. Albus said to tell you to come down with Ralph if you can. He's pretty excited about it. He was going to write your mum and dad first thing. They'll be totally proud, I bet."
"Yeah," James muttered, dragging his broom and heading back off the pitch. "That's great. See you around, Louis."
"I'm really sorry, James," Rose said as they climbed the stairs to the common room. "It never even occurred to me to check. And Ralph's really not much of a Quidditch fan, so he wouldn't have even noticed. I figured it out right away and assumed you'd rushed out to the pitch. So, no luck then?"
"It was a complete bust," James grumbled. "I missed the whole thing. On top of it all, Slytherin's tryouts were tonight, too, and it sounds like Al flew rings around everybody. He's going to be Slytherin's Seeker."
"Oh," Rose replied brightly. "Well, that's really cool, isn't it? He'll look very dashing in his green cloak and pads. I bet your mum and dad will be very pleased."
"I really wish people would stop saying that," James said darkly.
"I don't blame you for being angry that you missed the try-outs, James, but being jealous of Albus—"
"I'm not jealous, Rose!" James exclaimed. "The whole thing is a trick! It has to be! The Slytherins are just setting him up!"
"And why would they do that?" Rose asked simply. "If they were as black-hearted as you say, wouldn't they be trying to bury him rather than prop him up?"
"They don't work that way anymore. They're all sneaky and two-faced now. Tabitha's Fang and Talons club is just this year's version of the Progressive Element. They were the ones who set up the debate where she said that my dad was a liar and a fraud. They actually believe that Voldemort was a great fellow and that people like our parents have lied about him all these years."
"Nobody really believes that silliness," Rose replied. "It's just popular to rock the boat. Either way, Albus can handle himself. He's not a dummy."
James glowered. "He doesn't know Tabitha like I do."
"Well," Rose said, deliberately changing the subject, "Defence Club went well. We had twenty-six people, which is really good considering Quidditch try-outs were tonight. Mostly, we just talked about club goals and established the rules. I'll fill you in on that later. Then we ran through some fundamental Disarming Spells, just so everybody was starting on the same page."
"Who led the class? You?" James asked as they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "I can't imagine Ralph let you talk him into showing anyone how to perform Expelliarmus spells. He doesn't much trust his own wand with that kind of thing even though he's better than he used to be."
"No," Rose answered slowly. "Ralph didn't do it. And neither did I. It went very well though."
Rose said the password and the portrait swung open. The Fat Lady glared at James, remembering his conduct earlier in the evening. The sound of raucous laughter and music poured through the portrait hole.
"Then who did you get?" James asked, suddenly suspicious. He followed Rose into the crowded room. Scorpius Malfoy lounged on the couch near the fireplace. He glanced up and smiled crookedly as James and Rose entered.
"Good of you to show up, Potter," he drawled. "I understand you found a way to overlook two appointments at the same time, tonight. Not that we missed you, exactly."
"Hush, Scorpius," Rose said, sitting down on the other end of the couch. "We really should discuss plans for the next club meeting. I'd appreciate it if you two could find a way to be civil to each other."
"You really did ask him to teach the class?" James said, pointing at Malfoy. "You've got to be kidding!"
Malfoy produced his glasses from a pocket and put them on. "This really isn't your night, is it, Potter? Cheer up. You should consider yourself lucky that I'm not interested in being on the Quidditch team; otherwise, I wouldn't have been available."
"Look, both of you," Rose interjected before James could reply, "we have more important matters to discuss than how much you two annoy each other. If you haven't noticed, this Defence Club serves a more important purpose than just giving us something to do one night a week."
"How much did you tell him?" James demanded. "If you haven't noticed, his family is all Death Eaters! You might want to think twice about trusting him."
"Technically, my father was never actually inducted. I thought you knew that," Scorpius said, meeting James' eye. "But if you mean did she tell me about her suspicions about the Headmaster, no, she didn't. I was already well aware of them. As hard as this may be for you to believe, I'm on the same side as you, Potter."
"Hah!" James spat. "That's where you're wrong! I don't agree with either of you about Merlin. Even if there is some evil plot in the works, I'd suspect your family was involved before I'd go pointing fingers at Merlin. He saved this school last year!"
"We've discussed all of this, James," Rose said, motioning for James to keep his voice down. "Scorpius doesn't approve of some of the things his family has done in the past. That's part of the reason he's here in Gryffindor. And you know what we saw in the Mirror. There's no question that we have to be careful around the Headmaster. As of right now, the evidence is that he's in league with—"
"The evidence is that you've been suspicious of him from the beginning," James exclaimed. "But you're wrong. You're both wrong, and I'm going to prove it."
Scorpius narrowed his eyes at James. "Well, I do hope you pull that off. I suspect a lot of us would take some comfort in that proof. Until then, however…," Scorpius pointed his wand lazily at the chair next to the couch, "perhaps it would be a good idea to do as Rose says. We have a Defence Club to prepare. And she seems very stubborn about you and Ralph Deedle being a part of it. Still, if sitting in the same room with a Malfoy is too much for you, it's fine by me if you go elsewhere. There's a bed upstairs with your name on it."
James ground his teeth. Nothing had gone right this entire evening. And now he couldn't see any choice but to sit down and plan what Scorpius Malfoy was going to teach them at the next Defence Club meeting. It was singularly humiliating. He almost couldn't bring himself to do it. He still had his broom with him, reminding him of his second failure to make the Quidditch team. All he wanted to do was go back upstairs, stuff it back under his bed, and try to forget the whole mess. But Rose was looking at him pleadingly, obviously hoping that James would be able to overcome his innate dislike of the pale boy long enough to give the Defence Club a chance to work.
Sighing resignedly, James propped his broom by the fireplace and threw himself onto the chair. "Fine," he said. "What do we need to do next?"
Rose clapped her hands excitedly. "Thank you, James! I knew I could trust you. Scorpius really is a pretty good teacher, but it's hard for some of the Gryffindors to listen to him. There's still a lot of long-term prejudice against a Malfoy in Gryffindor, and having him teach the class just makes matters worse. Still, if you're there, it should really help give Scorpius the credibility he needs…"
"Hey, you guys expecting somebody?" Graham said as he entered the room. "Only, I found this bloke hanging around outside th
e portrait hole. He says you invited him, Rose."
Ralph grinned sheepishly as Rose jumped up. "Sorry, Ralph. I hadn't gotten around to telling James about Scorpius, and then… Well, anyway, we're all here, so let's get started!"
Scorpius looked annoyed as Ralph crammed onto the couch between him and Rose. The big boy kicked his shoes off and propped his feet on the overstuffed footstool. "Good club tonight. Scorpius here may be a skinny bloke, but he knows a few tricks. Some of you Gryffindors may have a bit of an attitude problem about him, but I need all the help I can get," Ralph said breezily. "Oh, and James?"
James glanced up at Ralph, arching an eyebrow.
Ralph smiled sheepishly. "Albus says to tell you you'll be better as Treus than he'll be as Slytherin Seeker. He was hoping he'd see you tonight. Even Tabitha asked if you were going to come down."
James didn't know what to say. After a moment, Scorpius broke the tension. "This is all very touching," he said dryly, "but I recognize Slytherin smooth-talking when I hear it. I'm a bit of an expert on the subject, as James has already pointed out. Can we discuss Defence Club now?"
The four of them talked for the next hour. James grew grudgingly confident that Scorpius may indeed be able to teach them some decent defensive spells. It turned out that he had, in fact, been tutored from an early age by his grandfather, Lucius Malfoy, who was currently in seclusion and not speaking to the family. Scorpius admitted that he hadn't seen his grandfather for a few years, ever since he and Scorpius' dad had had a rather serious row.
The fire had burned down to glowing coals and the four students were beginning to pack up for the night when Deirdre Finnigan, one of Cameron Creevey's first-year friends, barreled into the common room, panting and red-faced. She glanced wildly around the room, and then pressed through the crowd, heading directly for a rear corner.
The Curse of the GateKeeper (James Potter #2) Page 26