JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES jp-1

by G. Norman Lippert

“Want to man the reins one more time, James?” he called down, grinning. “Last chance before landfall!”

  James shook his head, but couldn’t help smiling. “No thanks.”

  “Suit yourself,” Barstow said, shrugging. He called a short incantation and the magical fishing line pulsed once. Henrietta lunged forward and the boat lurched behind her, rising onto the waves.

  As the journey neared its end, James found that the thrill of it had finally worn off. He was eager to reach land again and found himself lurking around the bow as the day progressed, watching the horizon for any sign of their destination. Ralph accompanied him sometimes, as did Albus and Lucy. After lunch, Petra joined him, leading Izzy at her side. The three sat crosslegged on the deck, leaning against the railing, talking idly about what the United States might be like. Interestingly, Petra seemed to be feeling rather better, to the point where she almost seemed like her old self. She laughed as they spoke, and James was glad to hear it. He wanted to ask her about the magic, about how she did it without her wand, but he didn’t. Later, he would, but not now. The timing just wasn’t right.

  Finally, as the sun began its descent back toward the horizon, James heard a babble of voices and looked up. Persephone Remora and her gaggle of fellow travelers were climbing onto the bow, squinting in the sunlight, their faces pale as gravestones.

  “Yes, my friends, I believe you are correct,” Remora announced, lifting her face to the breeze. “I can smell it as well. The dark purple scent of lifeblood is thick on the wind. We are very nearly home.”

  James sighed and rolled his eyes. He stood and threaded through the black-clothed figures, heading below-decks. He sensed the teenagers looking at him as he passed, their faces sly and sarcastic.

  Later, James, along with his fellow travelers, climbed a circular stairway to the top of the deckhouse, eager to catch their first glimpse of the United States. James elbowed in between Albus and Lucy at the railing, watching as an irregular dark shape grew on the horizon. Below, the bow looked very small and narrow. James could clearly see Henrietta carving the waves up ahead, her long lithe body rippling just under the rushing surface.

  “Are you excited?” Lucy asked, leaning eagerly over the railing, her dark eyes sparkling. “I sure am. I can’t wait to get there.”

  “Why are you so hopped up about it, Lu?” Albus asked. “You’ve traveled all over the world.”

  “Sure,” Lucy answered, shrugging, “but that was the world. This is the United States. For better or worse, there’s no other place quite like it.”

  Albus scoffed darkly. “The same thing can be said about James’ clothes hamper.”

  “Look,” Molly cried suddenly, pointing. “Over there, just to the left of the bow. See? Buildings! That’s the skyline! We’re nearly there!”

  James looked. He wasn’t sure he was seeing the same thing Molly was seeing, but it was exciting nonetheless. The great landmass grew and spread, slowly expanding to fill the entire western horizon. As the fog of distance dissipated, James began to recognize the shapes of a great city. Buildings towered up toward the sky, clumped together like stacks of gigantic toy blocks. Finally, as they got close enough for James to make out the faces of individual skyscrapers and to recognize the shapes of other ships clustered around the sprawling ports, Barstow halted the Gwyndemere. Deftly, he used his own wand to release Henrietta from her harness chain. A few quick commands and words of praise sent the great sea serpent curling down under the boat, where she would apparently hide for the landward side of the journey. Much more slowly, then, the Gwyndemere began to creep forward, propelled by Dodongo’s dutiful pedaling below-decks. James turned and saw the smokestack behind him issuing a stream of black smoke: the giant ape’s last huge cigar, of course. He grinned, and then turned back to the approaching land.

  “The Statue of Liberty,” Harry announced from behind James. James saw it, standing tall and straight before the massive city, faint in the misty distance. The statue seemed to regard them mildly, her torch raised high overhead, glinting gold as the sun shone on it. Behind James, his father sighed and said, rather more quietly. “The United States. What would Severus Snape say, I wonder.”

  “He’d say to keep one hand on your wand and the other on your wallet,” Albus said, grinning crookedly.

  “We’re nearly to port,” Percy announced briskly, clapping his hands together. “I suggest we all head below and make ourselves ready. The journey isn’t over yet! We’ve still a way to go before nightfall, and our escorts will be meeting us at customs.”

  James turned aside, peering around Ralph toward his cousin Lucy. “Is your dad always this chipper when he’s traveling?”

  Lucy nodded somberly. “He thrives on it. The good part is that we can always leave him to manage all the business of it and just enjoy the sights ourselves. Should be interesting.”

  “Famous last words,” Albus said, narrowing his eyes.

  Slowly, James and his family and friends began to thread back down the spiral stairway. By the time they had lugged their trunks back onto the main deck, they were very nearly at port. The shadows of the skyscrapers fell over the Gwyndemere as she angled into a narrow inlet, surrounded by massive cargo ships and rusty tugboats. Gulls soared and lofted on the air currents, calling derisively over the waves. The air was thick with the mingled smells of dead fish, seaweed, and, unfortunately, garbage. James turned to watch as a huge barge of rubbish lumbered past them, piled high and surrounded by its own cloud of screeching gulls.

  “I hope this isn’t a sign of things to come,” Ralph said, staring up at the stinking piles of trash.

  “Buck up, Ralph,” Petra said, coming up behind them and smiling. “A city that can afford to throw that much rubbish away must be a city worth seeing, right?”

  Ralph shook his head uncertainly. “If you say so.”

  “I do,” Petra said, and something in her voice made James turn around. To his eyes, Petra certainly didn’t appear sick anymore, and the sight made his heart rejoice. She drew in a great, contented breath and let it out slowly, looking up at the towering, glittering buildings. “New York,” she said on the exhale, narrowing her eyes slightly. “You know what they call it, don’t you?”

  James shook his head, smiling at her with bemusement.

  “They call it The City that Never Sleeps,” she answered herself, nodding with approval. “I like that. I like it very much.”

  James couldn’t stop looking at her. To him, she was very nearly radiant. Beyond her, the buildings loomed and glimmered, casting their shadows over her, sparkling in the setting sun.

  Somewhere nearby, a tugboat sounded its horn. James barely heard it.

  The next half hour went past in a blur of bustling crowds, echoing announcements, long queues, and flashing signs. James drifted through it all in a sort of dazed wonder, glad that his dad and Uncle Percy seemed to be managing the various questions, connections, and directions. The American wizarding customs agent didn’t even look up as James moved in front of the high counter, following Lucy and Izzy.

  “Name,” the man said, holding out his hand, palm up. James had been watching, so he knew what to do. He dropped his wand into the man’s hand.

  “James Sirius Potter,” he called through the noise of the crowd.

  “Reason for visiting the United States?” the agent asked in a bored monotone.

  “I’m here with my dad, Harry Potter,” James answered. He was satisfied to see the agent blink and look up at him over his glasses. It was a brief look, but James knew what it meant. Even here, Harry Potter was a well-known figure.

  “Are you transporting any fruit, vegetables, potions, beasts, insects, cursed objects, or forbidden artifacts into the United States?”

  “No,” James said, and then added, “er, I have an owl. Nobby. Does he count?”

  “Service animals are permitted, so long as they can pass a routine health inspection,” the agent said, holding James’ wand under a large magnifying glass.
Smoky shapes on the glass resolved into letters, and James craned to read them. He was interested to see that the letters spelled out the last several spells he had performed—mostly levitations, but also the hiding spells he had used on Petra’s letter—as well as the construction and core details of his wand. The agent quickly jotted James’ name on a much-used chalkboard and the letters appeared a moment later on the magnifying glass, beneath the information about his wand. The agent turned and handed the wand back to James over the counter.

  “Are you a registered or undocumented werewolf, Animagus, Metamorphmagus, vampire, shape-shifter, or beast-whisperer?” he said, rattling off the words as if he had asked the same question a million times before, which he probably had.

  James tried to replay the question in his head. “Er, I don’t think so,” he answered.

  “Welcome to the United States,” the agent said, unsmiling. “And good luck, Mr. Potter.”

  “Er, thanks.” James replied. As he moved forward in line, making room for Ralph to hand over his own unusually large wand, James turned and saw his father at an adjacent queue, behind Merlin and in front of his mum. They were all talking, their heads close together.

  Finally, the signs and queues opened up into a broad lobby with high vaulted ceilings and moving advertisements framed on the walls. Witches and wizards crowded the space, some flying overhead on brooms, zooming in and out through a bank of very tall doorways set into the far wall. As James peered around at the milling crowd, he was not exactly surprised to see a wide variety of ethnicities, clothing styles, and even animals, all milling through the gigantic space like ants.

  On the other side of the space, near the doors, a Bigfoot wearing a backpack and a pair of dark sunglasses lumbered along, towering over those around him. Nearby, a dark-skinned wizard in a red fez stooped over an open carpet bag. He produced a length of white rope, which he deftly tossed into the air, where it caught and hung on nothing. Without pausing, the man closed his carpet bag, scooped it onto his shoulder, and, to James’ complete amazement, began to climb the rope. As he reached the top, he vanished into thin air, taking his carpet bag with him. A moment later, the rope zipped upwards, disappearing as well.

  “Wicked…,” Ralph said appreciatively, standing next to James, his eyes wide.

  James nodded and felt excitement bubbling up in him. Together, they followed Percy and Neville Longbottom toward a bank of grand marble stairs and the doors beyond.

  “Hey,” Ralph said suddenly, pushing himself up on his toes to peer over the crowd, “isn’t that Chancellor Franklyn over there? On the landing over to the right?”

  James peered around Neville’s shoulder and grinned. “It is! And look who’s with him!”

  “James!” a voice cried out over the noise of the throng. “Ralph! Hey, over here!”

  James and Ralph pushed through the crowd, laughing with delight. James leapt up the stairs, taking them two at a time to the nearest landing, where a small group of people stood watching. “Zane!” he called. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

  “Are you kidding?” Zane said, matching James’ grin. “I was planning to stow away in the baggage compartment if Chancellor Franklyn wasn’t going to let me come. How are you doing, you guys? Good to see you!”

  James reached to shake Zane’s hand, but Zane grabbed James around the shoulder and pulled him into a rough half-embrace.

  “Oof,” James said, laughing. “I forget how touchy-feely you lot are. We’re good. Glad to finally be here.”

  “Hey Zane!” Ralph smiled, huffing up the last of the stairs to the landing. “Nice country you got here.”

  “You just wait,” Zane said, approaching Ralph and throwing an arm around the bigger boy’s shoulders. “I’m going to show you all around. You’ll love it. But first, intros…” He turned aside, gesturing toward the people standing nearby. “That’s Chancellor Franklyn, of course, who you already know.”

  Franklyn nodded at James and Ralph. “Boys,” he said, smiling. “It’s good to see you both again, and rather grownup, I daresay. I trust you’ve been practicing up on your defensive techniques. It looks like I may be overseeing your education again this year, if I am not mistaken.”

  James nodded, but Zane went on, interrupting him before he could reply. “Next to him, that’s Professor Georgia Burke. She teaches Mug-Occ and Magizoology. You might have her this year if you’re lucky. She lets us pet the tufted rattlebacks, even though it’s technically a violation of the health code. The rest of these mugs are just T.A.s and admin, here to take a few pictures of the big city. Like me,” Zane finished, grinning. “Which reminds me, here, what’s your name?”

  Lucy blinked at Zane as she reached the landing. “I’m Lucy Weasley,” she replied. “Who are you?”

  “Pleased to meet you, Lucy. I’m Zane. You know these two? Troublemakers, aren’t they? Here, would you mind taking a picture of the three of us?”

  James stifled a grin as Zane shoved a large camera into Lucy’s hands.

  “Just push the red button on the top right,” he said, backing away and throwing an arm each around James and Ralph. “But you have to hold it down for a second so the flash will work.”

  “I know how to operate a camera,” Lucy commented, rolling her eyes. She raised the camera and peered through the viewfinder.

  “Say ‘cheese’!” Zane announced, showing all his teeth to the camera.

  The camera flashed as Ralph and James both said ‘cheese’.

  “Speaking of which,” Albus said, climbing the stairs next to his parents, “here’s our cheesy American friend.”

  “Good to see you, Zane” Harry said, patting Zane roughly on the shoulder. “Still tearing it up on the Quidditch pitch?”

  “I wish,” Zane replied, shaking his head. “These guys don’t have any respect for the game over here. Here, it’s all Quodpot and Clutch. We have a team, but it’s nothing like when I played with the Ravenclaws.” He sighed, and then brightened. “Hi Petra! I didn’t know you were coming.”

  Petra beamed at Zane, walking with Izzy at her side. “I don’t think anybody knew for sure until we were underway,” she answered, shrugging.

  “Harry,” Benjamin Franklyn said warmly, reaching to shake hands. “So good to see you again. I only wish it were under better circumstances. And this must be the lovely Ginevra?”

  “Pleased to meet you, Chancellor,” James’ mum said, smiling.

  “Do call me Benjamin,” Franklyn said, showing her his most charming smile.

  “Chancellor,” Percy said, sidling between them and reaching for Franklyn’s hand. “A pleasure, as always. You’ve met my wife, Audrey, of course. And this is Denniston Dolohov, Neville Longbottom, and finally, last but not least…”

  “Merlinus Ambrosius,” Franklyn interjected, looking up at the tall wizard. “Yes, of course. We barely had the chance to speak when last we met. Things were rather hectic, of course. I look forward to a more relaxed interview this time, although I am certain it won’t be as long as I might hope.”

  “Chancellor,” Merlin nodded in greeting. “I assure you, this will likely be the first of many visits. I wish to know much about this country of yours. But we will make the best use of what time we have.”

  Greetings and introductions continued all around, but James grew bored with them and stopped paying attention. Finally, Neville spoke up.

  “Begging everyone’s pardon, but I, for one, am anxious to reach our final destination. Might we continue our conversation as we move on?”

  “Certainly, Mr. Longbottom,” Franklyn agreed. “We are only awaiting one more person. Well, in a manner of speaking.”

  Harry looked around at everyone in his troop. “I believe we are all present and accounted for, Chancellor. Are you quite sure?”

  “Indeed I am,” Franklyn nodded. “Pardon the confusion. She is one of our own, in fact. Just now returning, by happenstance, from a summer trip abroad with some of her students.”

  “Her
e she comes now,” Zane said, sighing in annoyance. “Don’t tell me you guys had to travel with her.”

  James turned, frowning quizzically, just in time to see Persephone Remora climbing the steps to the landing, her long black cloak flowing dramatically around her, creating a wake through the moving crowd.

  “Ah,” she sighed. “Returned so soon. It seems as if we barely just left. Greetings, Chancellor, Georgia. Forgive me if we seem less than enthused to see you. It is always rather a strain to come back from our land of origin. Pray, don’t take it personally.”

  “Welcome home, Professor Remora,” Franklyn announced. “No offense taken whatsoever. We, too, know what it is like to be away from our homeland. As do our European friends here. I take it most of you have already met?”

  “Professor Remora?” James said incredulously, turning back to Zane and Ralph.

  “Yeah,” Zane said under his breath. “Forbidden Practices and Cursology. Don’t get me started. She’s a real treat.”

  “Huh,” Ralph said, peering aside at the woman and her pasty-faced students. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

  James shook his head. “He’s being sarcastic, Ralph. It’s an American thing. Remember?”

  “Oh yeah,” Ralph said, nodding. “That makes more sense, then.”

  “Friends,” Franklyn announced, gesturing toward the bank of doors behind him, “let us be off!”

  Slowly, the group made its way up the last flight of stairs, moving into the sunset light of the doors. James craned to see around Neville Longbottom, eager for his first glimpse of the city beyond.

  “I was speechless when I first saw this place,” Zane enthused happily. “I mean, as a wizard, of course. I’d been to New York loads of times before, when I was growing up, but I never knew it had a magical twin. Still, I think I always sort of expected it, you know?”

  “What do you mean ‘a magical twin’?” Ralph asked, glancing aside as they neared the doors.

  Zane blinked aside at him. “You don’t know already?”

  “My dad visited Alma Aleron last summer,” Ralph replied, “but he came via Portkey. I don’t think he made it to New York at all.”