Zane's crazy plan, of course, was a convoluted method of sneaking into the endless warren of basements and dungeons beneath Alma Aleron's Administration Hall in search of the elusive-- and apparently terrifying-- Crone Laosa, who, according to Rose's research, was possibly one of the only people on earth harbouring the secrets of the Morrigan Web.
Zane was, as usual, wildly enthusiastic about the idea. "It's all totally still set up and ready to go," he declared in a stage whisper at their next Ancient Runes class. He dug in his pocket and produced a fat gold coin, an American Drummel. "The Protean charm is as strong as ever. Wherever I vanish this baby to, the spell yanks the American side of the Hogwarts cabinet along with it. We step in on this side and pop out on the other side in the new location."
Ralph shook his head impatiently. "But what about this Crone Laosa person?" he whispered, leaning close to James and Zane. "How are we going to find her?"
Zane shrugged. "That's the easy part. She's supposed to be the guardian of all the lower levels of Admin Hall. We tromp around and make enough noise, she'll just come to us."
"And what then?" James frowned. "She's supposed to be, like, ten kinds of horrible, isn't she? How do we keep her from cursing us into cockroaches, much less convince her to tell us all of her darkest secrets?"
"Leave that to me," Zane said with a firm nod. "I've got an ace up my sleeve."
James' frown deepened. "What's that mean?"
"It means I've got a few secrets of my own," the blond boy whispered loftily. "And besides, you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Whatever," James muttered, still frowning. "Ralph, just keep that monster wand of yours handy. I have a feeling we may need it."
"Mr. Potter," Professor Votary's voice echoed stridently, snapping James to attention. "Perhaps you'd like to come up to the blackboard and use your busy whispers to translate this ancient Angkoran rune? Do be careful, though: mispronunciations often trigger unpleasant curses. I once saw a cryptologist's tongue transfigured into a dung beetle by a careless consonant."
Glowering and dragging his feet, James stood and made his way to the blackboard.
"And never a more foul-mouthed dung beetle have I encountered," Votary went on, shaking his head. "The Sumerian swear words that that creature uttered. Why, it was enough to make a rock troll blush."
James' tongue, fortunately, did not get transformed into a foul-mouthed dung beetle, but he did spend the dinner hour haunted by a particularly pesky Angkoran demon, which circled his head like a semitransparent bat, pecking at him and screaming incomprehensible insults.
"Makes me wonder whatever happened to Peeves," Rose commented, watching the demon with a wistful expression. "Haven't seen him in months."
"Good riddance," Graham Warton proclaimed around a mouthful of stew. "Stupid poltergeist ruined my diorama of the Battle of the Red Mages. Turned them all into fire imps and sent them invading everyone else's dioramas."
"I remember that," Heth Thomas smiled mistily. "It was hilarious."
"It was a miniature massacre," Ashley Doone called spitefully from the Ravenclaw table. "I spent weeks on that model of King Kreagle's court. Took those imps about ten seconds to pillage it and burn it down."
Heth nodded. "Like I said, bloody hilarious."
"Quit it!" James shouted, waving his hands at the Angkoran demon. "So I mixed up 'djaa' and 'bjaat'! It's a dead language already! Get over it!"
Ignoring the demon, Albus squeezed in next to James. "So when are we going to visit old Crone Laosa?"
James blinked at him. "Who's 'we'? How do you even know about that?"
Albus nodded toward Ralph, who was cramming in between Rose and Scorpius. James glared at him.
"What?" Ralph proclaimed, taken aback. "He was with you in Avior's office, wasn't he? He's as much a part of this as we are. And at this point we need all the help we can get."
"How many people do you think we can shove into the vanishing cabinet?"
"Easy," Scorpius replied, "We just take two trips."
"Or more," Rose nodded.
"Besides," Albus said blithely. "Not all of us are the size of a bloated yeti."
"Hey!" Ralph said, sitting up straight in his seat. "I'm just big boned. I can't help it."
"Where are you lot headed, then?" Graham Warton asked, nudging Albus with an elbow.
"Down into the dungeons of Alma Aler--"
"Nowhere!" James exclaimed, overriding his brother and shoving him backwards off the bench.
"Doesn't sound like nowhere to me," Lily said, replacing Albus on the bench and narrowing her eyes.
"Ow!" Albus complained, clutching his head where he lay turtle on the floor.
"Shut up, Al," Both James and Lily said in unison.
Ralph rolled his eyes. "We really have got to stop discussing these things around the dinner table."
"I said quit it!" James bellowed, flailing uselessly at the Angkoran demon as it blew raspberries into his ears.
It wasn't until the following Wednesday night, during their walk back from the Astronomy tower, that plans for the trip into Alma Aleron's cellars were finally solidified. After the coming Monday's Herbology class, James, Ralph, Scorpius and Rose would meet Zane in the Great Hall, purportedly for an unscheduled Experimental Communications meeting, and take the reconfigured Alma Aleron vanishing cabinet to its new portal location beneath Administration Hall. Albus had complained loudly about being left out, but a prior arrangement with Professor Heretofore's duelling club made it impossible.
"You can't skip it," James had insisted, "Or else people will be wondering where you've gone off to. Everyone knows you love that daft club."
With the details worked out, all that remained was the waiting. This, James had long since learned, was the hardest part of all, as every idle moment seemed suddenly to be full of worries about the myriad ways the plan could go wrong. What if Filch caught them attempting to flit away through the Alma Aleron cabinet? What if Zane's precarious repositioning of the Alma Aleron side of the cabinet went awry, dumping them into a subterranean lake or the lair of some clandestine poisonous beast? There was, after all, no way of knowing what terrible secrets were hidden away in the apparently endless depths beneath the American Magical school. Furthermore, what if Crone Laosa wasn't a real witch at all, but merely a legend made up to frighten students away from the dangerous cellars? And even if she was real, was there any reason at all to expect that she would do anything with them other than curse them as trespassers? This, after all, was apparently her singular task.
By the time Monday afternoon's Herbology class arrived, James was so preoccupied with fretting that he barely noticed Tabitha Corsica's suspicious, steady glare.
"Something on your mind, Mr. Potter?" she asked coolly as she handed him a pair of gloves and oversized earmuffs. "It is not wise to transplant Mandrakes while preoccupied."
"Hmm?" James muttered, and then shook himself. "Oh. No. Not a thing."
She narrowed her eyes at him, pausing in her distribution of the earmuffs and gloves. Then, thankfully, she moved on.
Fortunately, the rest of the lesson went by quickly, filled with the piercing screeches of Mandrakes as the students hastily replanted them in larger pots. Ears still ringing despite the use of the protective earmuffs, James accompanied Ralph back to the doors of the Great Hall, where Rose and Scorpius were loitering, trying very hard to appear casual with their noses buried in various schoolbooks.
"About time," Scorpius muttered, snapping his Arithmancy book shut. "Rose here is the only one who looks believable reading this stuff. Let's go."
"Wait," James interrupted as Scorpius heaved open one of the doors. "Where's Zane? There's no point going through the cabinet until we know he's repositioned the other side."
"He said he'd meet us here at a quarter before five," Ralph said, ducking through the door into the empty Great Hall. "That's almost eleven in the morning his time."
"I'm surprised he's out of bed," Scor
pius rolled his eyes. "Either way, I'm not waiting out here where Filch can clap eyes us."
Quickly, furtively, the five students made their way between the empty house tables. It wouldn't be long before students and teachers alike would begin trickling into the Great Hall for dinner. Even now, James could hear the faint clatter and clink of the house elves in the kitchen below. Ahead of him, the four vanishing cabinets stood sentinel, outlined dramatically by angled sunbeams from the windows along the left wall. For the first time in months James thought of the beginning of term, when Nastasia had appeared surreptitiously skulking around the entrance hall. He now knew how she had come through the cabinet-- having assumed her snake form, she was able to bypass the pre-class ban on witches and wizards. In light of the interview in Avior's office, however, he had new doubts about why she had come to Hogwarts that night in the first place. She had claimed merely to be exploring. And yet…
James glanced toward the empty staff table, remembering. There had been some sort of small sack there, lying in the moonlight. Nastasia had claimed it, but offered no explanation for it. What had she been carrying in that sack? And where had it gone?
His thoughts were interrupted by Rose as she joined him near the head table. "Blimey, but that thing's ugly," she said, nodding curtly toward the rose window overhead.
James glanced at her, then up at the monstrous clock. Its five faces glowered down at him, showing the times in each of the time zones represented by the cabinets. For the moment, James noticed, the Durmstrang clock hands pointed straight up, unmoving. The Durmstrang cabinet was still broken, obviously. The other faces ticked busily, marking the tiny, insectile movements of their iron hands. Beneath them, the great pendulum scythed back and forth, swishing faintly as it sliced the air into seconds.
"He's officially late," Scorpius complained tensely, glaring up at the Alma Aleron clock. "He's going to get us all caught, the stupid Yank."
"Give him another minute," Rose sighed.
James waited, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
Suddenly, behind him, came the unmistakable click of the Great Hall's door latch. James spun on the spot.
"What was that?" Ralph rasped in a high, nervous voice.
Rose shook her head. "It sounded like someone coming in…" She frowned and shrugged. "Perhaps it was just the wind."
James squinted back at the closed doors. There was no one there. "Maybe--" He began, but was interrupted by the much louder sound of the Alma Aleron cabinet bursting open.
Relieved, James turned around again, only to find himself face to face with the last person he expected.
"Nastasia," he declared. To his own ears, it sounded like both an accusation and a question.
"Hi, James," she said, smiling faintly but not meeting his eyes. "Miss me?"
"Why is she here?" Scorpius asked bluntly, addressing Zane as he followed her out of the cabinet.
Zane was unperturbed. "Why shouldn't she be? She was there in New Amsterdam, wasn't she? And she helped you lot get the truth out of Avior. Besides, she's the ace up our sleeve."
"Nastasia?" James exclaimed, gesturing at her but looking at Zane. "She's your secret?"
"I'm everybody's secret, it seems," Nastasia interjected, threading an arm through James' elbow. He pulled away irritably.
"Are we expecting anyone else?" he demanded, throwing up his hands. "The Alma Aleron marching band, perhaps? Professor Jackson's crazy Werewolf militia?"
"Good to see you, too, mate," Zane soothed amiably, throwing an arm around James' shoulders. "It's all part of the plan, trust me. Besides," he produced the gold Drummel from his pocket and bounced it on his palm. "The marching band was already busy tracking down the Ark of the Covenant."
James shrugged off his friend's arm but couldn't resist a wry, helpless grin. "You really are completely mad."
Zane nodded. He turned and held the coin out in front of him. "Ralphinator, you want to do the honours? Use that Godzilla wand of yours and send this to its last location. If I'm right, it'll end up just below the Admin Hall cafeteria. Safe enough, despite the reek of old goulash."
"Is that deep enough to get Crone Laosa's attention?" James asked as Ralph rummaged in his pockets for his wand.
Zane shrugged. "It's a start. Like my dad always says, better safe than buried a thousand feet underground in some monster maggot's large intestine."
"Words to live by," Scorpius prodded. "Get to the magic, Ralph, and be quick about it. People are due for dinner any moment."
Ralph brandished his wand tentatively, his mouth pressed into a resolute line. He was, James realized, becoming accustomed to stepping up when particularly strong and precise magic was called for.
"Saltus Retrorsum," he declared, tapping the coin with his wand. It vanished neatly with a small pop.
"Nice one, Ralph," Zane declared, turning back to the Alma Aleron cabinet. "I half-thought I'd have to go looking around for my hand when we got there."
"Cram in, everybody," Rose said, hurrying into the cabinet. "Let's get this over with!"
Zane squeezed in next to her. "I hope you left all your cardigans at home this time, Weasley."
"Shut it, Walker."
Ralph followed, ducking to fit his bulk into the remaining space.
"Budge up, Zane!" Rose complained as the door swung shut. "You're on my foot!"
A moment later, a green flash outlined the door brilliantly. With an eerie thump, the voices inside cut off.
James glanced back at Nastasia. "I've got a load of questions for you," he said.
"Sorry," she replied brightly, "I'm fresh out of answers today. Try back tomorrow, why don't you?"
James shook his head wearily, abandoning her and approaching the cabinet.
"Wait," Nastasia said, grasping James' elbow. Irritably, he turned back. She met his gaze fixedly, almost seeming to struggle with herself to maintain eye-contact. "I told you not to trust me," she said. "But I didn't mean to turn on you. Really. Avior trusted me. He told me to look up Dumbledore's old passwords. I used his trust to get what we needed. It was him I betrayed. Not you."
James studied her face sceptically. He shook his head. "I don't know if I can believe you," he admitted in a low voice. "And I don't know if I want to, either."
She sighed briskly, finally lowering her eyes. She let go of his arm.
"Work out your trust issues later, you two," Scorpius declared from the Alma Aleron cabinet. "Or I'm leaving without you."
Without another word, James climbed into the cabinet, pressing against the back wall to allow room for Nastasia. Almost reluctantly, she stepped inside after him. She turned away from him, facing the open door. After a second, the door swung shut. James braced himself. There was a pause, followed by the nowfamiliar greenish flash and dropping, sickening thump.
The door swung open again on pitch darkness. Heat flooded the cabinet, along with a cloying, overpowering stench. It didn't smell like old goulash, however. It smelled like sulphur and age and mouldy dampness. The only sound was the steady, echoing drip of water.
"Ladies first," Scorpius chimed, nudging Nastasia. "You've been here before, right?"
Nastasia didn't answer. Instead, she raised her wand. "Lumos," she commanded in a flat voice. The wand flared, illuminating the interior of the cabinet and nothing else. Slowly, tentatively, she stepped out into echoing darkness.
Feeling an unshakable sense of deep foreboding, James followed her.
"Lumos," Scorpius muttered, adding his own wand light to Nastasia's. Rough, wet stone reflected the light blackly beneath James' feet. He looked up, searching for the ceiling, and was shocked to see only the faint shadow of stalactites hundreds of feet above.
"It's a cavern," Zane's voice called out of the darkness, waking a chorus of echoes. "Wasn't expecting this, exactly."
"I thought you said you'd tested this already?" Scorpius called back.
Nastasia answered next to him. "We did. But we vanished the coin into the cellars from t
he lawn in front of Admin Hall, a few hundred feet at most. Ralph may be a whiz with a wand, but it's a different thing to hit the same mark from an ocean away."
"Like hitting the bullseye of a dartboard on the moon," Zane nodded, approaching out of the darkness with Rose and Ralph. "At least Ralph here got us on the board. Not your fault, pal." He clapped Ralph heartily on the shoulder.
James peered around, frowning. The vanishing cabinet was barely a crooked silhouette in the darkness, its door partway open. "So where exactly are we, then?"
"My guess?" Zane shrugged, "We're still under Admit Hall. Just, you know, a little lower than expected. Ah!" He hunkered down suddenly. When he straightened again he was buffing the gold Drummel on his shirt. "Need this, don't I? It's more than a Protean target. It's my current life savings."
"So how are we supposed to find our way back up to the main cellars?" James asked impatiently. "I don't see any stairs or anything."
Rose fanned herself with her hand, beginning to sweat in the subterranean heat. "The dwarves who built Administration Hall surely would have known this cavern was here. They'd have tunnelled into it and used it for resources and storage. If we explore around a bit we're sure to find a way up and out." She turned and peered into the darkness, raising her lit wand.
"Bollocks to that," Scorpius shook his head. "If we're back under Alma Aleron now, why don't we just reposition the cabinet for another go? You've got the coin, don't you?"
"Yeah," James agreed. "Do your Protean repositioning thing from here. We can hit the mark right on the nose and avoid tramping around the centre of the earth all night."
Zane nodded and shrugged. "Makes sense to me. Ralph? Round two, if you please."
He held the coin out to Ralph once more, who produced his wand and levelled it carefully.
"What are you doing!?" Rose cried, yanking the coin out of Zane's hand and interrupting Ralph in mid-spell.
"Hey!" James exclaimed. "What gives?"
"I turn away for ten seconds and you lot just about doom us!" Rose brandished the coin. "You vanish this away, what do you think happens to the cabinet?"
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