James Potter and the Hall of the Elders' Crossing

by G. Norman Lippert

  James climbed the steps into the gloom of the upper terraces of the grotto. The early morning light was faint and grey, barely making it through the brush and trees of the island. Zane and Ralph were climbing unsteadily to their feet.

  “Merlin’s gone,” James said, looking around. “And I don’t see Jackson or Delacroix, either.” He stepped over the broken bits of Jackson’s wand and shuddered.

  “Guess we were wrong about him, weren’t we?” Ralph said.

  “We were wrong about loads of stuff,” James agreed softly.

  Zane rubbed his lower back and groaned. “Hey, we didn’t do too bad, considering everything. We almost stopped Merlin’s return, thanks to a handy length of log and my catlike reflexes.” His voice sounded hollow in the flat echo of the grotto, and he fell silent. The three boys found the opening that led out to the dragon’s head bridge, hacked through some weeds that had grown up to choke the space, and stumbled out into the dawn. The bridge had partially collapsed, and bore almost no resemblance to the frightening dragon’s head anymore. The bank bordering the forest was muddy and wet, covered in morning dew.

  “Hey look,” Ralph said, pointing. There were tracks in the fresh, slippery mud.

  “Looks like two people went that way. Away from the school,” Zane said, bending over to study the sloppy markings. “You think one of them was Merlin?”

  James shook his head. “No. Merlin wasn’t wearing shoes. That looks like Delacroix and Jackson to me. She probably left first, and then he set out after her when he came to. Besides, something about Merlin tells me he doesn’t leave tracks unless he makes a point of it.”

  “I hope Jackson breaks her in half when he catches her,” Zane said, but without much passion.

  “I hope she doesn’t break him,” Ralph replied morosely. “You saw what she did to his wand.”

  “Don’t remind me,” James muttered. “I don’t want to think about it.” He began to walk forward, heading generally into the woods where they’d left Prechka, but with no real destination in mind. He had a terrible suspicion about where Merlin had gone, and he, James, was responsible for that. Twice, Delacroix had called him her apprentice. She had influenced him, somehow, and he’d allowed it. He had played right into her plan, bringing the robe to her. She was right. She hadn’t had to lift so much as a finger. True, things hadn’t seemed to work out very well for her in the end, but that didn’t mean much. A lone, rogue Merlin might be even more dangerous than a Merlin in league with people like the Progressive Element. At least they tried to operate under a guise of respectability. Merlin was from a different time, a more direct and deadly time. A nearly crushing weight of guilt and hopelessness pressed down on James as he plodded forward. Zane and Ralph followed quietly.

  Prechka was gone. James wasn’t surprised, really. Her footprints were pressed into the dewy earth like dinosaur tracks. Without a word, the boys followed them, shivering and wet with dew. Mist filled the woods, reducing the world to a handful of black trees and dripping bushes. As they walked, the mist grew bright, absorbing the sun, and finally began to burn away. The forest awoke with bird song, and the scampering of unseen creatures in the brush. And then, surprisingly, there were distant voices, calling for them.

  “Hey!” Zane said, stopping and listening. “That’s Ted!”

  “And Sabrina!” Ralph added. “What are they doing out here? Hey! Over here!”

  The three boys stopped and called to the two Gremlins, who responded with hoots and hollers. A gigantic shape loomed out of the mist, moving almost delicately through the trees.

  “Grawp!” Zane laughed, running to meet the giant.

  “Boy, you three look like Inferi leftovers,” Ted called down from Grawp’s shoulders. “You spent the whole night out here?”

  “It’s a long story, but yes,” Zane called up. “Short version: Merlin’s back, the voodoo queen’s on the run, and Jackson was a good guy after all. He’s after her as we speak, results unknown.”

  “Is there room up there for three more, Grawp?” Ralph said, shivering. “Only, I think if I have to take one more step, I’ll drop dead.”

  Grawp knelt and the three boys clambered onto his back, crowding in with Sabrina and Ted. Before climbing up, James flexed the fingers and wrist of his right hand. There was no pain, and the bones of his arm seemed sturdy and straight. He stripped off the splint and jammed it carelessly into his pocket.

  “How’d you two get out?” James asked Ted when he was crammed in next to him, holding handfuls of Grawp’s straw-like hair for support. “I thought all of you were under house arrest.”

  “That was last night,” Ted said simply. “Things have gone pretty crazy at the school since then. Merlin showed up in the middle of the night, and let me tell you, that bloke knows how to make an entrance.”

  “He rode Prechka right into the courtyard and had her kick the front doors in,” Sabrina explained. “He obviously speaks Giant, and he had her really wild. Then he climbs off and just puts her to sleep. She’s still there, snoring next to the main entrance like the world’s largest pile of laundry.”

  “We all woke up when we heard the noise of the doors being smashed in,” Ted went on. “After that, it was pandemonium. Students running all over the place in their night clothes, trying to figure out what’s going on. People were already pretty uptight, what with that Prescott guy still on the grounds and nobody knowing what he’s up to. And then here’s this bloke who’s built like a boulder and dressed like a cross between a druid and Father Christmas, stalking through the school, putting people to sleep with barely a look, clacking this enormous staff on the floor as he goes, loud enough to echo around the whole place. Then he sees Peeves and the weirdest thing happens!”

  “What?” Zane asked hopefully. “Did Peeves blow a raspberry at him and get turned into a floor lamp or something?”

  “No,” Sabrina said, “Peeves joined him! He didn’t seem to want to, but he did anyway. Merlin stopped when he saw Peeves, and then he spoke to him. None of us knew what he was saying. It was in some really weird, flowery language. We were worried that Peeves would do something stupid and get us all zapped with that creepy staff, but then Peeves just grins, and it isn’t like any of his normal grins. It’s the kind of grin you see on a house-elf when the master is just as prone to wallop the elf with a frying pan as look at it. A whole lot of teeth and not much humor, you know? And then Peeves swoops down next to the guy. They talk for few seconds in low voices, and then Peeves moves off, slow enough for Merlin to follow. Merlin had a place in mind he wanted to go, I guess, and Peeves took him there.”

  “Peeves?” Ralph said incredulously.

  “I know,” Ted replied. “It isn’t natural. That’s when we knew we were dealing with somebody really scary. Most of us Gremlins had already guessed he was Merlin, but that proved it.”

  “So where’d they go?” James asked in a quiet voice.

  “Sylvven Tower,” Sabrina answered. “At least that’s what it used to be called. Nobody uses it for much anymore. Word came down that he was awaiting a ‘parley with the Pendragon’, whatever that means.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that one bit,” Zane said.

  “Nobody does,” Ted agreed. “Apparently, he thinks that this ‘Pendragon’ is the king or leader. It’s some kind of medieval challenge or something. Anyway, McGonagall gathered the faculty to go and deal with him, and that’s when she realized that both Professor Jackson and Delacroix were gone. Then word comes that you’ve gone missing from the hospital wing, James. Next thing we know, McGonagall is sending us off to find the three of you. She was too busy to come herself, but she knew if anybody could sniff you out, we could. She seems to suspect you three might know something about this ‘infernal mess’, as she put it. Suspicious old girl, isn’t she?”

  As Ted finished speaking, Grawp finally carried them out of the edge of the forest. The castle shone in the brilliant morning sunlight, its windows sparkling gaily, despite the turmoi
l within. The Garage of the Alma Alerons was quiet, its door flaps closed and tied shut. James remembered the time difference between the Hogwarts and the Philadelphia side of the Garage, and knew that those on that side would still be fast asleep. When Grawp turned the corner into the courtyard, Ted called for him to lower them to the ground.

  “Great job, Grawp!” Sabrina said warmly, patting the giant on his enormous shoulder. “Go take a rest with Prechka, why don’t you?” Grawp grunted agreeably and lumbered over to the she-giant, who was indeed snoring loudly next to the steps into the castle. The massive wooden doors were hanging from one hinge each, smashed inward and gaping. The Entrance Hall was eerily empty and silent. As they entered, Ralph gasped and grabbed James’ arm, pointing. There, lying awkwardly on the floor near the door, were Mr. Recreant and Ms. Sacarhina. Both had their eyes open and were grinning unnaturally at the ceiling. Sacarhina’s arm was outstretched, sticking up and looking pasty white in the morning light.

  “Are they��� d-dead?” Ralph stammered.

  Ted lightly kicked Recreant’s foot. “Not likely. They’re still warm and they’re breathing. Just really, really slowly. They were apparently down here in the hall when Merlin arrived. Looks like they tried to greet him and he just zapped them, somehow. He put loads of students to sleep, but these two got some special freezing treatment. Anyway, we pulled them out of the way so people wouldn’t trip over them.” He shrugged and led them past the two prone figures, into the halls beyond the staircases.

  “Where’s Sylvven Tower?” James asked as they hurried through the corridors.

  “It’s the tallest tower in the old part of the castle. Narrowest, too,” Ted answered, his voice uncharacteristically somber. “Not used for much anymore except stargazing sometimes. It’s too tall and treacherous to climb. Petra says that it was an important part of the castle a long, long time ago. Every castle had one, and it was considered neutral ground, sort of like a universal embassy or something. Meetings between warring nations and kingdoms were held there, with one king on one side and the enemy king on the other. Four advisors were allowed to accompany them, but the rest had to wait below. Occasionally, wars would be decided and ended right there, sometimes with one leader killing the other and throwing the body from the top of the tower for all to see.”

  James felt his heart sink even lower. “So who’s up there with him, then?”

  Ted shrugged. “Dunno. We got sent off to find you three while McGonagall was still getting everybody together. I assume she meant to meet him herself. She was looking pretty peaked about it, if you ask me.”

  The five students walked through a wide, low arch, entering the oldest and least used section of the castle. After several curving, narrow corridors, they finally encountered people. Students were gathered in the corridors, lining the walls and talking in hushed voices. Finally, Ted led them into a round room with a very high ceiling, so high, in fact, that it was invisible in the dark, foggy heights of the tower. The floor was crowded with students, muttering in nervous anticipation. A rickety wooden staircase spiraled up the throat of the tower. After a cursory glance upwards, Ted began to climb the stairs. James, Zane, Ralph, and Sabrina followed.

  “McGonagall’s up there with��� him?” Ralph asked. “How, er, good is she?”

  “She’s the Headmistress,” Sabrina answered seriously. “She’s good.”

  “I hope so,” James said quietly.

  They climbed the rest of the way in silence. It took quite a long time, and James was feeling remarkably tired and achy by the time he reached the top. Ralph was wheezing behind him, pulling himself up with both hands on the thick banister. Finally, however, the stairs opened onto a room that filled the top of the tower. It was low, thick with heavy rafters and dust and centuries of owl and pigeon guano. Narrow windows marched around the perimeter of the room, revealing slices of morning sunlight. There were several people present, although none of them appeared to be the Headmistress or Merlin.

  “James,” a thick voice said, and a hand fell on his shoulder, “what are you doing here? This is no place for you, I’m afraid.”

  “He was summoned, Professor Slughorn,” Sabrina said, following the others into the room. “The Headmistress herself asked us to bring him, as well as Ralph and Zane. They are to go up right away.”

  “Up?” Ralph wheezed. “There’s more? This isn’t the top?”

  “Ah, Mr. Deedle,” Slughorn said, spying Ralph. “Yes, I am afraid there is, but only a bit more. It is directly above us. Are you quite sure about this, Miss Hildegard? This is hardly the place for children.” James thought Slughorn seemed a bit ruffled that he, Ralph, and Zane might be expected to go up while Slughorn himself was not.

  “You were in the room when the Headmistress sent us to find them, Professor,” Ted said, allowing a hint of sternness to creep into his voice.

  “So I was,” Slughorn acknowledged, as if the fact proved little.

  “Let them proceed, Horace,” Professor Flitwick said from a bench near the window. “If they are summoned, they are summoned. They are hardly any safer with us here if that savage prevails.”

  Slughorn stared at James, and then, with an apparent force of will, softened his expression. He turned to Ralph and clapped him stiffly on the shoulder. “Represent us well, Mr. Deedle.”

  Ted motioned toward a short stone staircase that protruded through the wooden floor and up to a trapdoor in the ceiling. James, Ralph, and Zane approached and climbed the worn steps slowly. The trapdoor wasn’t locked. James pushed it open and sunlight poured in, blinding him momentarily as he climbed onto the surface above.

  It was almost exactly the same size and shape as the Grotto Keep, made almost entirely of stone but for the wooden floor in the center, from which the trapdoor opened. Marble pillars surrounded the space, but there was no roof. The morning sunlight filled the top of the tower, dazzling on the white marble and stone terraces. Merlin sat only a few feet away, facing the three boys as they emerged into the soft wind and warm sunlight. His face was stony and immobile, only his eyes moving to watch them.

  “Mr. Potter,” the Headmistress’ voice rang out in the stillness, “Mr. Walker, and Mr. Deedle. Thank you for joining us. Please, find your places on my left. We will come to your tale shortly.”

  James turned as Zane lowered the trapdoor closed. McGonagall was seated behind them, across from Merlin. She was dressed in a flame red robe both far graver and more ostentatious than James had ever seen her wear. It made her look both younger and dreadful, like a sort of tyrant queen. The chairs that she and Merlin sat upon were embedded in the stone of the lowest terrace so that both looked at each other across the wooden floor in the center. On McGonagall’s left, arranged along the rim of the highest terrace, were four more carven seats, although they were much less ornate. Seated on them were Neville Longbottom, Professor Franklyn, and Harry Potter.

  “Dad!” James breathed, a smile of relief and joy surfacing on his face. He ran up the steps toward his father.

  “James,” Harry said quietly, his face grim, “I was told you had gone missing. You had us very worried. I would have gone after the three of you myself, except that we received word you’d been found only moments after I arrived.”

  “How did you find out?” Ralph asked, furrowing his brow.

  Harry allowed a crooked smile and held up a Weasley rubber duck. On the bottom, Ted’s handwriting was scrawled: Found them! Be there straight off! “This is Petra Morganstern’s, but she said they got the idea from you three. Very handy.”

  “I’m sorry I took the map and your cloak, Dad,” James said in a rush. “I know I shouldn’t have. I really made a mess of things. Merlin’s back and it’s all my fault.”

  Harry darted his eyes meaningfully at the chairs in the center of the space. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, my boy. We’ll have loads of time to discuss this later. For now, I think we have other matters to attend to.”

  James turned back toward the H
eadmistress and Merlin. He’d nearly forgotten about them in the excitement and relief of seeing his dad. “Sure. Sorry.” The three boys remained standing along the top terrace, next to Harry, Neville, and Franklyn. James noticed for the first time that the opposite side of the terrace was occupied by a surprising number of birds and creatures, all of which were staring hard at Merlin. There were owls and pigeons, ravens and even a few falcons, all arranged on the ledge of the railing, on the four carven seats, and on the floor of the top two terraces. Sitting incongruously among them, also staring at the bearded man, were a variety of creatures James recognized as house animals. Frogs and rats jostled slightly among the birds. Even Zane’s cat, Thumbs, was there, sitting near the front, his black and white nose twitching slightly.

  “You were saying, Professor Longbottom?” McGonagall said, her gaze still locked on the huge, unmoving form of Merlin.

  Neville stirred and stood. “I simply wish to register my objection to your speaking to this��� this intruder, who has violently entered this school with who knows what nefarious purpose in mind, in a language that we, your long time associates and friends, cannot understand or follow. Between that and your, I must admit, surprising attire��� well, surely you must know how this looks to us.”

  “I apologize, Mr. Longbottom, and the rest of you,” McGonagall said, finally looking away from Merlin and meeting the eyes of those gathered to her left. “I had forgotten myself. This gentleman comes from a time of formality and ritual. I am meeting him as he expects to be met, in the ceremonial robe of my station. I am afraid that when he first found us, he assumed that all of us, including myself and the faculty, were peasants who had somehow managed to overrun the castle. It was extremely unbecoming in his time for the Pendragon to appear in the sort of colorless sacks that he mistook our robes for. As for the language���”

  “I can speak in the language of your servants, if you wish it, Madam Pendragon,” Merlin interrupted in his low, carrying voice. “Although why you deign to speak to them as equals when they should be stropped for such impertinence, I cannot guess.”