James Potter and the Hall of Elders' Crossing

by G. Norman Lippert

  “That’s certainly a question worth asking,” she said, a little archly, “seeing as I had no idea we now had two giants living among us. I’ll go and request their services from Hagrid personally.” She turned to James. “Go and fetch Mr. Lupin, and tell no one what you are up to. Both of you meet your father at Hagrid’s cottage with cloak and wand within fifteen minutes. I’ll need to return to the castle to see to our guests.”

  “And James,” Harry said, smiling that crooked smile, “now, you can run.”

  James was out of breath by the time he reached the common room. He found Ted still in his Quidditch jersey, moping with several other players in a corner alcove.

  “Ted, come here!” James called, catching his breath. “We don’t have much time.”

  “That’s no way to enter a room,” Sabrina said, turning to look at James over the back of the couch. “One might get the rather inescapable impression that you were up to something.”

  “I am. We are,” James said, leaning forward, his hands on his knees. “But I can’t tell you right now. Not allowed to. Afterwards. But they want you, Ted. We’re supposed to be at Hagrid’s cabin in five minutes. Wand and cloak.”

  Ted jumped up, apparently happy to forget the first loss of the season and always ready to tag along for an adventure. “Well, we all knew this day would come. Finally, my unique skills and insight are being recognized. We’ll regale you with the story of our adventure, assuming we live to tell the tale. Lead on, James.”

  Ted stuffed his wand into his pocket and slung his cloak over his shoulder. As both boys strode through the portrait hole, James still panting, Ted strutting and rock-jawed, Sabrina called after them, “Bring more Butterbeers when you get back, oh mighty ones.”

  On the way around the balcony, James was dismayed to see Zane wave at him from across the stairwell. He detoured to meet them at the landing.

  “Hey, Ted, great game!”

  Ted growled, annoyed to be reminded of it.

  “Where you going?” Zane asked, trotting to keep up with James and Ted.

  “Adventure and mortal peril, I’m thinking,” Ted replied. “You want to come?”

  “Yeah! What’s the plan?”

  “No!” James exclaimed. “Sorry. I’m not supposed to tell anyone about it but Ted. My dad said--”

  Zane’s eyebrows shot up. “Your dad? Cool! Serious Auror stuff! Come on, you can’t run off to have Harry Potter-style adventures without your buddy Zane, can you?”

  James stopped in the main hall, exasperated. “All right! You can follow us out, but if Dad says you have to come back in and be quiet about it, you have to. All right?”

  “Woohoo!” Zane called, running ahead of them down the steps into the courtyard. “Come on, you guys. Adventure and really wild stuff awaits!”

  Harry and Titus Hardcastle were standing outside Hagrid’s cabin with their wands lit by the time the three boys arrived.

  “Thanks for coming, Ted,” Harry said, his face stoic. “And Zane, as well, who I hadn’t exactly expected.”

  “I asked him to come, Harry,” Ted said, effecting a grave expression. “He’s new, but he’s sharp. I thought he might be of service, depending on what you’re planning.” Ted studied Zane critically. Zane wiped the grin off his face and attempted to look serious, without much success. Harry studied them both.

  “Mainly, we just need eyes. Since Zane has as many of those as the rest of us, I guess he’s qualified. Let’s just hope Minerva doesn’t find out I took another first year into the forest or she’ll bloody well figure out a way to give us all detention. James hasn’t told you what we’re doing here tonight?”

  Ted shook his head. “Nary a word. Just said it was top-secret, hush-hush stuff.”

  Harry slid an eye toward James. “The Headmistress told you not to say anything, my boy.”

  “I didn’t!” James protested, shooting a look at Ted. “I just said I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone what we were doing!”

  “Best way to get people suspicious, James, is to tell them not to ask.” But Harry didn’t seem angry. In fact, he seemed a little amused. “No matter, though. We’ll be done and back to the castle before your Gremlin friends mount any kind of reconnaissance. Right, Ted?”

  “They’re probably tucked into their beds even as we speak, Godfather,” Ted said primly. Harry rolled his eyes.

  James became aware of a dull rumbling underfoot. Moments later, he heard the distant barking of Trife, Hagrid’s bullmastiff, who had long since succeeded his beloved boarhound, Fang. Everyone present turned toward the woods as the rumbling underfoot became a rhythmic pounding. After a minute, huge shapes loomed in the darkness, lumbering between the trees, their footfalls shaking the ground. Trife bounded in and out of the giants’ legs, apparently unfazed by the fact that he’d be squashed to putty if one of them accidentally stepped on him. He barked up at them excitedly, his normally substantial frame dwarfed by the plodding figures. Hagrid followed, occasionally calling at Trife to quiet down, but with no real conviction.

  “Grawp was easy to bring along,” Hagrid called, stepping out of the forest. “He always wants to help. Got himself a great big heart o’ gold, he does. Gettin’ better and better with his words, too. His lady friend, though…” He dropped his voice as he approached Harry, affecting a secretive pose that James thought was about as subtle as a banshee in a matchbox. “She’s not quite so used to being around folks as Grawp is. Didn’t take too well to being woken up, either. Barely understands a word we say, but it seems best just to keep on talkin’ to her as if she does. She’ll come along all right, so long as we take it slow with her.”

  James reminded himself that this was the same Hagrid who had raised Blast-Ended Skrewts for fun, and persisted in thinking that the primary characteristic of dragons was their cuteness. Any warning from Hagrid about a creature’s temperament, therefore, was definitely worth hearing. Everyone turned to greet the giants as they emerged from the trees. Grawp came first, blinking and smiling in the wand-light. He waved a piano-sized hand at Harry.

  “Hullo, Harry,” Grawp’s voice was deep and slow. James had the impression that making words wasn’t quite what it had been designed for. “How Herm-ay-nown… Her-mime-nin…”

  Harry tried to save Grawp the effort. “Hermione is fine, Grawp. She would say hello if she had known I’d be seeing you.”

  This seemed to be more than Grawp could quite wrap his mind around. “Hullo, Hermenimminie…” He continued working through Hermione’s name as the she-giant emerged tentatively from the forest behind him. James craned his neck, feeling an involuntary thrill of fear course down his spine. The she-giant was so tall that she had to push the canopy of the trees apart as she stepped out of the forest, cracking and snapping branches. The wand-light only reached her chest, which was roughly about the same height as Grawp’s head. Her head was merely a shadowed shape moving above the treetops, outlined against the starry sky. She moved slower than Grawp, ponderously, her great feet coming down to the ground like falling millstones, shaking leaves from the nearby trees with each step.

  “So much for stealth,” Hardcastle commented, staring up at the monstrous figure. “Harry, Titus, James, Zane, and Ted,” Hagrid called out very slowly, “meet Prechka. Prechka, these are friends.”

  Prechka bent down slightly so that her head hovered over Grawp’s shoulder. She made a low, interrogative grunt that James thought actually rattled the windows in Hagrid’s cottage. Harry raised his lit wand over his head and smiled. “Prechka, Grawp, thank you both for coming and helping us. We won’t keep you long, I hope. Hagrid has explained what we are asking you to do tonight, has he?”

  Grawp gathered himself to speak. “Harry look for sneaking man. Grawp and Prechka help.”

  “Excellent,” Harry said, turning to address the group. “Hagrid, you take Trife and get him on the scent from the path. See if he can pick up anything leading off the trail into the forest or around the lake. If so, send up a red signal.
Ted, you’ll be with me and Prechka in the forest. Zane, James, you’ll both join Titus and Grawp searching the perimeter of the lake. We’re searching for a back trail as much as we’re looking for the intruder himself, so watch for broken branches, disturbed undergrowth and ground leaves, and anything human-related, such as bits of cloth, trash, papers, or anything of that nature. Everyone clear?”

  “Who’re we looking for, Harry?” Ted asked. Harry was already approaching Prechka slowly. “We’ll know that when we find him, won’t we?”

  8. The Grotto Keep

  Zane, James, and Hardcastle climbed onto Grawp’s back as the giant squatted down. James and Zane both clambered onto a shoulder, gripping Grawp’s ragged shirt for support. Hardcastle, apparently oblivious to how ridiculous it might look, straddled the back of Grawp’s neck like a kid being carried by his dad. He held his lit wand up and out, spreading a halo of light onto the ground around them, and then directed Grawp toward the lake. As they left, Harry and Ted were still working out the best method to get onto Prechka’s shoulders.

  “Do we need a ladder, you think?” Ted called.

  “Get her to bend all the way over, with her hands on the ground,” Harry called, waving up to the she-giant, who had kneeled, but become distracted by Hagrid’s garden. She pulled up a handful of pumpkins, roots and all, and began stuffing them into her mouth.

  “That’s right, that’s right,” Hagrid called soothingly. “Just lean over here a bit. There we go. Oh!”

  There was a sharp wooden crunch as Prechka leaned on Hagrid’s wagon, crushing it to kindling.

  Hagrid patted the gigantic elbow, shaking his head. “Oy, at least yeh can climb up now, Harry. Just use the wall there as a step. There yeh go.”

  Prechka was being coaxed upright again, Harry and Ted perched on her shoulders, when Grawp entered the woods lining the west side of the lake and all view of the Hogwarts grounds vanished behind dense, stunted trees.

  Grawp was surprisingly gentle, turning sideways and ducking to avoid branches that might knock his cargo off his back. James could feel the weight of Grawp’s footsteps pressing into the ground far below, but experienced none of the shudder and thump he had expected to feel riding on a giant’s back. Hardcastle directed Grawp quietly, being seated almost right next to the giant’s ear. He led them in an orderly zigzag, approaching the lake, and then turning back into the thick of the wood again, slowly advancing around the perimeter. Their progress was slow and the motion of Grawp’s walking began to rock James into sleepiness. He shook himself awake, studying the ground below for any of the signs his dad had described. In an attempt to keep himself awake, he explained to Hardcastle and Zane how he had seen the unidentified man on the Quidditch pitch. He told them about the camera, and described the other two times he’d seen the man on the grounds.

  “You’ve seen this person three times, then?” Hardcastle asked, his voice a gravelly monotone.

  “Yeah,” James nodded.

  “But apart from your dad tonight, no one else has seen him at all?”

  James felt rankled by that, but answered directly. “No. Nobody.”

  They were silent again for a while. James guessed that they had travelled approximately a third of the way around the perimeter. He saw glimpses of the castle looming over the lake whenever they neared its edge. The woods seemed annoyingly untouched and normal. Crickets buzzed and creaked, filling the night air with their strange chorus. Everywhere James looked, fireflies stitched the shadows, going about their nocturnal business. There was no sign that anyone had ever been through this wood, much less anyone recently.

  “Stop, Grawp,” Hardcastle said suddenly, his voice tense. Grawp stopped obediently and stood still. His massive head turned slightly as he looked around. James peered around Grawp’s enormous, dirty ear, trying to see what Hardcastle was looking at or listening for. Half a minute crept by. James knew not to speak. Then, in the near distance, there was a harsh scurrying sound. Something scrambled, unseen, through the fallen leaves and stopped again. A branch creaked, as if it were being stepped on. James’ heart was suddenly pounding. Still, neither Grawp nor Hardcastle moved. James saw Hardcastle turn his head slightly, trying to pinpoint the direction of the sound.

  It came again, nearer this time, but still unseen. It was ahead of them, behind a low rise on the woods side of their path. James couldn’t help thinking that there was something distinctly inhuman about the scurrying sound. It was, somehow, too busy. The hair at the base of his neck prickled.

  Hardcastle tapped the back of Grawp’s head lightly and pointed toward the ground, reaching so Grawp could see his hand. James felt the giant lower, and was surprised again at the slow grace of the motion. The leaves underfoot crackled only slightly as Grawp put his hands on the ground. Hardcastle slid silently off Grawp’s back. His eyes were locked on the low rise ahead.

  “Stay with--”

  He was interrupted by the noise of scrambling movement. It was much closer this time, and now James saw the motion of it. Dead leaves scattered into the air as a large, shadowy form scuttled over the rise, moving with horrible speed. It darted in and out of the trunks of the trees, crashing through bushes. It seemed to have far too many legs, and there was a strange bluish glow emanating from its front. It flickered wildly as the thing moved. Hardcastle leaped in front of Grawp as the thing approached. He flicked his wand with the practiced economy of a trained Auror, sending red Stunning Spells into the thrashing brush and leaves. The creature changed course, skirting around them and into a gully. The flickering blue glow marked its progress as it skittered over dead logs, retreating deeper into the wood.

  “Stay with Grawp, you two,” Hardcastle growled, setting off after the creature at a run. “Grawp, if anything other than me comes back, crush it.” He moved with amazing agility for his size. Within fifteen seconds, neither he nor the retreating creature could be seen or heard. The two boys jumped off Grawp’s shoulders to peer down into the gully.

  “What was that?” Zane asked breathlessly.

  James shook his head. “I’m not even sure I want to know. It definitely wasn’t the guy we’re looking for.”

  “I’m glad of that,” Zane said with conviction.

  They watched the gully that Hardcastle and the creature had vanished into. The incessant chorus of crickets and the flashing of the fireflies filled the woods again, seeming to deny that anything unusual was happening. There was no noise or movement from the gully.

  “How far will he chase that thing?” Zane finally asked.

  James shrugged. “Until he catches it, I guess.”

  “Or it catches him,” Zane added, shuddering. “You know, I felt a lot better about this when we were up on the big guy’s shoulders.”

  “Good idea,” James agreed, turning. “Hey, Grawp, how about--”

  He stopped. Grawp was gone. Zane and James glanced around for several seconds, both too stunned and spooked to say anything. “There!” Zane said suddenly, stabbing a finger in the direction of the lake. James looked. Grawp was just disappearing around a gigantic, moss-bearded boulder, lumbering slowly. “Come on! Don’t let him get out of sight!”

  Both boys scampered after the giant, crawling over huge fallen trees and slipping on leaf-covered rocks. They rounded the house-sized boulder they had seen Grawp pass. Grawp was even further away, ducking under a leaning, dead tree.

  “Where’s he going?” Zane cried exasperatedly.

  “Grawp!” James called, hesitant to yell too loudly for fear of attracting any more of the horrible, scuttling creatures. The night had gone dim. Heavy, marching clouds obscured the moon, reducing the woods to a muddle of grey shadows. “Grawp, come back! What are you doing?”

  For several minutes, Zane and James followed Grawp’s trail, struggling through creek beds and over tree trunks that the giant traversed in one step. Finally, they caught up to him near the edge of the lake, where a group of small, wooded islands obscured the view across the water. The air smelled
damp and mossy and was dense with buzzing insects. Grawp stood under a gnarled tree, methodically plucking walnuts off the branches and popping them into his mouth, shell and all. He crunched them audibly as the boys approached, panting.

  “Grawp!” Zane cried, struggling to catch his breath. “What’re you doing?”

  Grawp glanced down at the sound of Zane’s voice, his expression quizzical. “Grawp hungry,” he answered. “Grawp smell food. Grawp eat and wait. Little man comes back.”

  “Grawp, we’re lost now! Titus won’t even know where we are!” James said, trying to control his anger. Grawp stared at him, still crunching walnuts, his expression one of mild bewilderment.

  “Never mind,” Zane said. “Let him chomp some nuts, then we’ll get him to carry us back the way we came.” He plopped onto a nearby rock and examined the scrapes and bruises he’d gotten during the chase. James grimaced in annoyance. He knew there was no point in arguing with the giant.

  “All right,” he said tersely. “Grawp, just carry us back when you’re done. Got it?”

  Grawp grunted agreement, pulling one of the larger tree branches down to him so that it creaked ominously.

  James wandered disconsolately toward the water’s edge, pushing reeds and bushes aside. The lake looked more like a creek here, with only a narrow stretch of mossy water between the shore and one of the marshy islands. The island was wild, covered with densely packed bushes and trees. It had the look of a place that was underwater at least part of the year. Twenty feet away, a group of trees had fallen away from the island. James assumed they’d been pried loose from their watery roots by a recent storm. The scene was remarkably ugly and foreboding in the shadowy night.