“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 turmoil 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 Headmistress 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.”
McGonagall sighed and closed her eyes. James had the sense that these sorts of misunderstandings had been going on for some time. “These are my associates, not my underlings, sir. This is a different time, as I fear I must keep reminding you. I am not the Pendragon of a kingdom. I am Pendragon only of a tiny portion of land, all of which is within sight of this tower. But yes, please do speak so that all of us may understand.”
“As you wish, Madam,” Merlin answered. “I assume your council is fully present, then?”
“It is. James Potter, Ralph Deedle, Zane Walker,” the Headmistress said, looking at each boy in turn. “This man claims to be Merlinus Ambrosius, returned to the world of men from an age of nothingness, by the combined arrangement of his ghostly apprentice and five other individuals. What can you tell us of this tale?”
James answered, explaining, as well and honestly as he could how the three Merlin relics came to be combined in the island of the Grotto Keep. He was careful to proclaim, to his own shame, how Professor Jackson had meant to protect the robe and keep it from the grotto, foiling Madame Delacroix’s plan, but that James had inadvertently ruined his intentions.
“It was my fault,” he explained miserably. “Ralph and Zane only helped because I talked them into it. I wanted to…,” he paused and swallowed, “I wanted to save the day, I guess. But I ruined everything. I’m sorry.”
McGonagall’s face was calm but unreadable as James finished. He hung his head, but a moment later, he felt his dad’s hand on his shoulder, warm and heavy. He sighed.
Merlin let his gaze sweep over the gathering on and near the benches, then he slowly filled his chest. “Austramaddux’s plan abused the intentions of many, I see, some good and some bad. I assume, however, that after this boy’s testimony, there is no doubt about my identity. Allow me to repeat, then: I have been, it seems, the subject of a very dire campaign of lies and slander. It has apparently become accepted lore that I was, in my own time, a capricious and dishonorable creature, a man of selfish alliances and endless guile. This is no truer than the litany of virtues embroidered into the history of this Voldemort villain you have described to me. I was no more evil than a storm is evil. I killed only when there was no hope of repentance or slavery. I collected dues only from those who deserved to pay, and even then, a third of my purse went to the poor and the church. I am no horror to be sought after by the pathetic creatures whom you gratuitously call ‘evil’, whose own wickedness is hardly a candle to the torches of iniquity I have observed in my own time.”
“I’ve no doubt you believe that,” McGonagall stated, “but surely you know that the legends of the dark heart of the world’s most powerful wizard began even before you stepped outside of your own time, while you still walked the earth. Many lived in fear of you.”
“Only those whose wickedness or ignorance lent them to that error,” Merlin rumbled. “And even in their case, I would more likely have approached them with the rod instead of the sword.”
“That may be so, Merlinus, but you yourself know that you dabbled in arts that, while technically allowed in your time, were not very allowed. You exposed yourself to currents of magic that separated you from the rest of humanity, currents that were, in fact, more than most human beings could touch and remain sane. You were changed by that dabbling. Perhaps even warped by it. Even you must have doubted your own judgment at times. The ambiguous morality of Merlinus Ambrosius was well-known, as was his cavalier attitude towards the lives of the non-magicked. It was legitimately suspected that you might side with those who wished the destruction and subjugation of the Muggle realm. I cannot speak for your own time, but in ours, those who wish war upon the Muggle world are our sworn enemies. Your allegiance must be decided before we can allow you to leave these halls.”
> “You dare to challenge the nobility of such as me?” Merlin asked, his voice smooth and calm. “And to suggest that I could not merely wipe you all from the earth with a sweep of my arm if I so wished?”
“I dare to do both, and for good reason,” McGonagall said firmly. “You were of questionable motive in your own time, as even the best historians agree. You remain so in this time. And in regard to your powers, they may be formidable, but even in your time, the current from which you drew your power was waning as the earth was tamed. Don’t pretend that that wasn’t your greatest reason for stepping out of time. You hoped to return to an age when the current of the earth was restored, when your power would once again be uninterrupted and complete. But this is not that time. The current is more parsed than ever. Your power may still be great, and you might indeed defeat those gathered here, but you are by no means unstoppable. Choose carefully with whom you ally in this age, Merlinus.”
Merlin’s face remained as impassive as stone as he stared at the Headmistress. “I have truly returned to a time of darkness if the Pendragon believes that a mere threat of doom might sway the convictions of an honorable wizard. But I see that you are honest in your motive, even if your methods are mean. I have never foresworn allegiance to any whose hearts were turned hard against the non-magicked. I worked to maintain the balance between the magical and Muggle worlds, to keep the scales from tipping one toward the other, though none would have guessed my true aims. I serviced all, but always with that goal in my heart. Fairness is a myth among a fallen humankind, but equality of struggle can be maintained, even if it is only a pale ghost of true fairness.”
“You speak well, Merlinus,” the Headmistress said, “but you have not stated your purpose plainly. Are you here to overthrow us or to work alongside us?”
James Potter and the Hall of Elders' Crossing Page 49