James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper

12. QUESTIONS OF TRUST

James insisted that, curious as everyone was, he was too exhausted for lengthy explanations. He told them merely that he'd travelled back to the time of the founders, and that he'd discovered far more than he intended about Merlin. He promised to explain everything in detail the next morning, which was Saturday. Reluctantly, the others agreed, and the four students crept out of the storage room. James allowed Ralph and Scorpius to lead the way through the dark corridors, returning to the main hall.

"You actually met the founders?" Rose demanded in a hoarse whisper, refusing to wait for details.

James nodded wearily. "I did. They were a lot more… real… than I ever imagined."

Rose shook her head wonderingly. "What was Helga Hufflepuff like? She's the one we hear the least about."

"She was tough," James said, "but nice. She wanted to talk things out with Slytherin even after he'd tried to kill the lot of us. But she wasn't a pushover. None of them were. They were hardcore. I'll tell you more tomorrow. How'd you all know I'd gone missing?"

"Well, it's been a whole day, hasn't it?" Ralph said in a whisper. "Besides, Cedric woke me up in the middle of the night last night. He told me exactly what happened. He thinks Merlin had bewitched the gargoyle to alert him, somehow, anytime somebody used the password to go up to the Headmaster's office. Merlin's been stalking all over the school, obviously mad as a hornet, but he hasn't said anything. Rose thinks he's been looking for something."

"I think he was looking for the Mirror of Erised!" Rose interjected. "I bet he sensed it was here, hidden away somewhere but couldn't find it. It's protected from discovery somehow. I bet it's got him in a total lather!"

"So how did you all find it?" James asked as they reached the stairs.

Ralph looked at Scorpius, who shrugged.

"I knew where to look," the pale boy said. "And when. More or less."

The four stopped at the base of the dark staircases. On the closest landing, the Heracles window had once again changed, Heracles' face reverting back to the caricature of Scorpius. Filch would be fuming.

James shook his head. "I just can't work it out, Scorpius. How could you possibly know?"

Scorpius drew a deep sigh. "I was told. My father knew all about it. He's been studying the writings of the founders for years. It's a sort of hobby of his. He wanted to learn about Salazar Slytherin, mainly, to see what he was really like, but then he got interested in the journals of Rowena Ravenclaw. She wrote down absolutely everything. Father worked out some of the clues and codes of Ravenclaw's diaries. Apparently, she intended for them to be discovered. She describes a boy who visited her and the other founders, a boy supposedly from the distant future. She discovered that if he was to succeed in returning through the right Mirror, someone would have to prepare it on this side, in this time. She'd determined it was her duty to make sure that happened, so she developed the codex and left clues for the right person to figure it all out. My father was apparently that person. The clues gave a timeframe and instructions."

James' head was spinning. "But how could she work that out? How could she know an exact timeframe?"

Scorpius shrugged. "That's a question for my father. I can't imagine why it'd matter. The fact is that she did work it out."

"It's obvious," Rose whispered. "You must have told her the time you came from. You must have given clues."

"I didn't tell them anything like that!" James said, but then a thought occurred to him. "I did tell them about Merlin's reappearance though. I told them it happened a year ago, on the night of the alignment of the planets."

"That's almost all she'd need," Rose replied. "They knew how to track those kinds of events. She probably factored out the exact date of the alignment, then added in loads of other clues you'd mentioned, like the day of the week or the month, the time during the school term, even the phase of the moon. She was dead smart, you know!"

James nodded. "No doubt about that. But still, how did you find the Mirror if Merlin can't even find it?"

Rose interrupted Scorpius, "Ravenclaw gave a sort of magical map! She embedded an enchanted signal in the Mirror of Erised, and listed the spell required to locate the signal. All we had to do then was follow it. When we found it, we were simply to touch the Mirror and wish for lost items to be returned to us. That's what we did, and then we just waited. Finally, bang! Here you are again!"

"Pretty neat, eh?" Ralph whispered, grinning. "And all because of Scorpius here. Or his dad, actually."

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "If we're done congratulating ourselves, I've got plans in the morning. You three can stay here and get cornered by Filch's ancient Kneazle-cat if you wish, but I'm off to bed." He turned and began to creep up the stairs.

James said goodnight to Ralph, then followed Scorpius up the stairs, Rose at his side.

As the three passed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room, Rose smiled tiredly at James.

"I'm glad you made it back, James. We didn't know where you'd really gone, or if Scorpius' information was correct. I was really scared. I thought maybe Merlin had gotten you somehow."

James furrowed his brow, thinking of the words Rowena Ravenclaw had said to him, urging James not to be taken in by Merlin, warning him he might have to confront the sorcerer if the moment was right. He tried to smile gamely at Rose.

"I'm fine," he said. "But it was close. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. I'll tell you everything, if you really want to know. For now, let's sleep. I'm nearly dead on my feet."

They said goodnight and climbed their respective staircases. When James got to the darkened dormitory, Scorpius was already in his bed, his back to James.

James' pilfered cleric robe had not come through the Mirror with him, so he was still dressed in his stripy pyjamas. Wearily, he put his glasses and his wand back in his bag and climbed into bed. He lay there a moment, and then sat up.

"Scorpius," he whispered. The boy didn't move, but James knew he was listening. "I don't know why you helped me, but thanks."

James lay back down. A minute went by and James was nearly asleep when he heard Scorpius move. Out of the darkness, the boy replied in a whisper, "Don't thank me yet, Potter. The time may come when you'll wish you'd never made it back. The time may come when you'll curse me for helping you."

James slept very late the next morning and awoke to a bright glare of snow and frost on the dormitory window. He washed, dressed, and clumped downstairs, looking for his friends. Eventually, he found Rose and Ralph in the library, arguing quietly over one of Professor Revalvier's homework questions.

"You two are pathetic," James said. "Doing homework on a Saturday morning."

"Technically, it's hardly morning anymore," Rose replied. "We've been waiting for you. We're dying to know what happened yesterday."

Ralph closed his book with a thump. "Besides, it's dead cold outside. Even the lake's freezing over. All the older years are mooning around trying to figure out who to go to the Yule Ball with. There's nothing else to do. By the way, did you get Zane's duck?"

James blinked. "When? The other night?"

"No, early this morning. Er, last night, by his time. He wants to hear about what happened to you, too. He said we should duck him back when you're ready to talk about it and tell him where to meet us."

James shook his head and smiled. "That's crazy!"

"That's Zane," Ralph shrugged.

"What about Scorpius?" James asked reluctantly. "Should we include him?"

Rose looked uncomfortable. "He says he knows everything he needs to know about it already."

"Whatever that means," Ralph added. "Oh yeah, that reminds me. You got something called a 'Howler' yesterday morning."

"What?" James said, frowning. "A Howler? From who?"

"Your mum," Rose answered. "It was delivered during breakfast, but you weren't there to open it. We tried to get it out of the Great Hall, but it went off before we could. I'm afraid everybody heard it. You really could've told us, James."

"What are you talking about?" James exclaimed. "What did the Howler say?"

Rose studied James' face. "You really don't know?"

"Bloody hell, Rose, you're killing me here! What did it say?"

"It was your mum's voice," Ralph said. "She was really mad, and loud as a trumpet. She said she couldn't really blame you for taking them last year because you were just being your father's son, but she'd hoped you'd learned your lesson. She said that they were dangerous, and what's more, that they belong to your father, and he was also pretty disappointed in you for nicking them again. Then she said that she hoped everyone was hearing it, including the teachers, so they'd all know that you were sneaking around with the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map, and that they should put a stop to it."

James spluttered, speechless. "But—but I didn't take them! They're still at home in Dad's trunk! I haven't touched them since last year!"

"Well," Rose said, pointing out the obvious, "they aren't at home in your dad's trunk even if you didn't take them. They've gone missing and your mum seemed pretty certain that you were the one who'd done it."

James felt both angry and hurt. How could she just accuse him like that? Sure, he'd borrowed the Cloak and the map last year, but he'd had very good reasons for it. He'd accepted his punishment, hadn't he? He didn't have any plans of borrowing the Cloak and map at all this year. But who could have taken them, then? And then, with a start, James remembered the morning they'd left for the train when Albus had been mysteriously late about packing his trunk.

"That little Skrewt!" James breathed, furious.

"What?" Rose asked. "Who?"

"Albus! The little Slytherin imp! He stole them! It had to have been him! The morning we left for the train, he was moping around, half-packed. Then, all of a sudden he left the room for a few minutes. Mum and Dad were downstairs getting the car around. He must have sneaked into their room and stolen the Cloak and the map out of Dad's trunk. He knew they'd blame me!"

"You can't know that," Rose admonished.

"I can't," James agreed, nodding. "But I do. Just wait until I get my hands on him. I'll make him send an owl to Mum and Dad confessing the whole thing. See if I don't."

"In the meantime," Ralph interjected, "we're still dying to hear about your wild adventure yesterday. Can we put this little detail behind us for the moment?"

James was still seething, but he agreed. He'd just have to see if he could track Albus down later that afternoon. Maybe he'd take Ralph up on his offer to escort him down to the Slytherin common room.

Ralph went on, "We've been thinking about it and we've come up with a great place to meet Zane and hear your story. Go grab your cloak and meet us by the rotunda entrance. And bring your wand."

A few minutes later, James once again met Ralph and Rose by the broken remains of the founders' statues. The huge rotunda gates had been closed against the wintry day, but a small door set into the left gate remained unlocked. Rose led them to it.

As James crossed the marble floor, he felt very strange. He remembered the statues as he'd last seen them, intact and new. He looked up as he passed through the main arch. The engraved name of the school was worn, almost lost in the dim recesses of the vaulted ceiling. James imagined that if he went over to the statue plinth, he might still find bits of the broken silver-framed mirror in the cracks of the floor. He shivered.

As they went through the tiny doorway, the three students squinted in the blinding, snowy brightness of the day. The lake was indeed half-frozen, with white edge-ice fading to black near the center where waves lapped onto the brittle surface. The wind was bitter and harsh, carrying flecks of snow like sand. None of the three spoke as they worked their way around the castle, huddled against the cold, and James was amused to see that they were walking toward the ancient stone barn in which Hagrid housed his menagerie.

"It'll be warm in here," Ralph called, yanking the main door open. "And we can be pretty sure nobody else will come out here today. Too bitter!"

It was indeed quite warm in the barn, thanks to Norberta's occasional flamings. Wall-mounted lanterns lit the dirt floor gaily, contrasting against the cold, white light which streamed through the barn's small windows. The beasts in their cages snuffled and barked as the students passed.

"There're benches over by the larger pens," Rose pointed out. "Let's have a seat. I've packed a flask of hot chocolate and some Cockroach Clusters."

"Blimey, Rose," Ralph said appreciatively. "You think of everything!"

Rose unpacked her bag, setting out the flask and some cups. "Too bad for Zane," she commented. "He can't have any, not really being here."

"I brought my own," Zane said happily, appearing in midair between them. The three students jumped back, and then looked up at the suspended shape. Zane floated two feet off the ground, apparently seated on nothing and happily munching a chunk of sausage on a fork. "It's barely breakfast here, you know, and I'm not normally a morning person. But I wouldn't miss this for anything. Good to see you made it back, James."

"Er, thanks," James replied. "But this is a little weird. You're, er, off a bit."

Zane glanced around, munching the sausage. "Ah, yeah. Hey, Raphael, what do we do when the Doppelganger insists on levitating?"

There was a pause as Zane listened. He nodded. "Sorry, guys. It's apparently part of the Doppelganger's basic intuition. It wants to make the apparition float. It's supposed to be creepier that way. Maybe it'll calm down in a little while if it gets bored."

"You've harnessed a Doppelganger of yourself and are using it to project messages?" Rose said incredulously.

"You didn't explain it to her?" Zane asked, looking at James. "She's pretty quick though, isn't she?"

"But that's patently and completely impossible!" Rose spluttered. "Doppelgangers are just myths! This is worse than the bit about the Chaos Butterfly!"

"It's a little late to be claiming it won't work, Rosie," Ralph said, munching a Cockroach Cluster.

"We can maintain this as long as we need to," Zane said, putting his fork down. It seemed to float alongside him, unsupported. "Just so long as you occasionally shoot me with a Stinging Hex or something, just to boost the magic a little. Truth is: Franklyn's glad for the testing time. So go to it, James. Tell us all about your adventures in the Stone Age."

James plunged into his tale, trying to remember everything. He explained his trip through the Mirror, and where he'd ended up, becoming, against all probability, the mysterious 'ghost in the plinth' as Ashley Doone had joked. This required a little further explanation as Zane had never seen the photo of the founders nor heard of the conspiracies about the shadowy face hidden in the background. James then went on to explain his capture at the hands of Salazar Slytherin, and the subsequent overheard conversation between Slytherin and the Merlin of that time. He described the duel on top of the Sylvven Tower, and the adventure of finding Slytherin's twin of Merlin's Amsera Certh. Finally, he relayed the words of Rowena Ravenclaw, warning what Merlin's return meant and how he was the Ambassador of the Gatekeeper. To cement her words, James produced the tabloid clipping Lucy had sent, obviously alluding to the work of the horrible entity.

By the time James had finished, the hot chocolate and Cockroach Clusters were long gone, and the three had had to shoot Stinging Hexes at Zane nearly a dozen times.

"Sounds like there was something going on with that Mirror back in the founders' day," Zane commented, "based on the way Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw responded when you found it."

"It does," Rose agreed. "It sounds like they'd known about it but believed it had been destroyed somehow. Obviously, Slytherin staged that so he could hoard the Mirror for himself. In the end though, the other founders got it back, but without the Focusing Book, apparently, which Slytherin had probably hidden elsewhere. James, you affected history!"

"He couldn't have," Ralph said, frowning. "Obviously they'd captured the Mirror of Erised back from Slytherin even before James went back in time. It figures pretty importantly in your dad's story, doesn't it, James?"

James nodded. "Yeah, I've heard him talk about it lots of times. He saw his dead parents in that Mirror. It really meant a lot to him. Almost too much, according to Dumbledore."

"This is why Time-Turners have been outlawed," Rose sniffed. "Time travel is just too complicated and weird. If James travelled back in time, then I guess it stands to reason that he'd existed in the past all along. He was the reason the Mirror was captured back from Slytherin on the night he was found out. That's why his face appeared in the shadows of the founders' photograph even before he went back."

Ralph screwed his face up in concentration. "That doesn't make any sense at all."

"No, using Doppelgangers to relay personal messages doesn't make any sense," Rose replied, glancing aside at the floating figure of Zane. "This is just improbable and complicated."

"But we did learn what we needed to know about Merlin," James said sadly. "We can't trust him. He's the Ambassador of this Gatekeeper creature. We might even have to fight him if we hope to send it back."

"Not me," Ralph said vigorously. "I've got part of his staff as my wand. It'd probably turn on me!"

Rose shook her head. "It doesn't work that way, Ralph. It's yours now. It obeys the wizard that wins it."

"It may not come to fighting Merlin," Zane said, his expression thoughtful. "It sounded like Merlin wasn't really excited about the descent of the Gatekeeper, but he knew it was possible. He took the Beacon stone from Slytherin so he could control it if it followed him back. Maybe he means to send it back. After all, like I said before, the fact that you three are still breathing means he can't be all evil. He knows you know. Especially now."

"He only has half of the Beacon stone," Rose replied. "Slytherin had the other half. He meant to pass it on, so that whoever was still alive when the Curse descended would be able to control it. The fact is that neither Merlin nor this other person can control the Gatekeeper completely. Somebody would have to put both rings together to banish the Gatekeeper back to the Void."

"Or to unleash it fully on the world," Ralph shuddered. "This thing's out there even now? That's what we saw that day in the Magic Mirror talking to Voldemort's grave statue, isn't it? It's already happening!"

"So maybe Merlin's trying to find the other half of the stone," Zane mused. "I just can't buy that he's gone over to the dark side."

"He wouldn't need to 'go over'," James said suddenly. "Ravenclaw said he was dead dangerous! Rose was right; Merlin was just a magical mercenary. He only stopped killing and cursing for hire when he fell in love with the Lady of the Lake. Then that turned out completely horrible and Merlin went mad with revenge. He ended up killing her without even knowing it! After that, he hated the whole world, magic and Muggle alike, so he took Slytherin's Beacon Stone and allowed the descent of the one creature who could end it all! We're fooling ourselves if we don't believe that."

Zane shook his head gravely. "I hope you're wrong, James, but if you aren't, you three better be very careful."

"The whole world better be careful," James answered morosely. "Not that it'll matter much. There's only one thing we can do to help now."

"What's that?" Rose asked.

"Watch Merlin," James answered meaningfully. "And try to find the two halves of the Beacon Stone."

With the Christmas holiday fast approaching, James found time slipping by in a blur. He had been determined to ask Ralph to take him down to the Slytherin common room so James could confront Albus about the missing Invisibility Cloak and Marauder's Map, but each evening seemed to magically fill up with homework and studying, preparations for the week's Defence Club meeting, play rehearsals, and costume fittings.

By the evening of the last Quidditch match of the year, James had still not spoken to Albus. He determined he would do it that night after the match. As an early winter dusk descended over the grounds, dark, ominous clouds were pushing in from the east. By the time James and Rose were sidling into their seats in the Gryffindor grandstand, fat snowflakes had begun to fall. The snow made a thick, white curtain, transforming the pitch into a ghostly shadow play. Across the pitch, the Slytherin grandstand was nothing but a tall grey monolith.

The players streaked from their holding pens, foregoing the traditional displays of aerial acrobatics for fear that they might crash into one another in the fog of snow even before the match began. Far below, barely visible, Gryffindor Captain Devindar Das shook hands with Tabitha Corsica, Slytherin's Captain. Shortly thereafter, the two captains kicked off, joining their teams in the air. Cabe Ridcully, the match official, released the Bludgers and Snitch and tossed the Quaffle into the waiting team formations. The teams sprang into action and the match was underway.

James found it a very difficult match to watch, and not just because of the thick, blinding snowfall. He was still smarting from his failure to make the team for the second year in a row, and especially because he'd simply been too distracted to remember when try-outs were. He cursed himself repeatedly, thinking it should be him out there facing off against Albus as Seeker. It was nothing short of completely humiliating that Albus was showing him up on the broom. Fortunately, being a Gryffindor, James could legitimately cheer for Albus' opponents without it seeming like sour grapes. When Noah swatted a well-placed Bludger at Albus, striking him in the back and nearly throwing him off his broom, James leapt to his feet, hooting derisively. A moment later, he felt slightly guilty. Then he remembered that, most likely, Al had nicked the Invisibility Cloak and Marauder's Map and left James to take the blame for it. He hooted some more, shouting for Noah to aim for the head next time.

In the end, despite a very closely played match, Gryffindor had won. Tara Umar, Gryffindor's Seeker, did a victory lap around the grandstands, Snitch held high, while the air rang with cheers and raucous commotion.

James clumped down the stairs two at a time, meaning to catch Albus while he was still on the field. He ran out onto the snow-dusted grass, looking left and right for his brother. Finally, he saw him with his broom slung over his shoulder and his head down, apparently in deep conversation with Tabitha Corsica and Philia Goyle. Feeling a mixture of triumphant spite and righteous anger, James charged directly toward them.

"We have to talk, Albus," he yelled over the noise of the departing crowd. "Mum sent me a Howler that should've been addressed to you, you know."

Albus didn't respond, but Tabitha and Philia looked up. Philia scowled at James, but Tabitha's eyes were strangely bright and expressionless. She saw James approaching but didn't say anything.

James stopped a few feet away, his face going red. He had the distinct impression that he was interrupting something, and felt infuriatingly awkward. He was supposed to have the upper hand in this situation, wasn't he? He cleared his throat loudly.

"I hear you," Albus declared without turning around. Tabitha glanced away, out into the strangely silent snowfall. After a moment, she took Albus' broom and walked slowly toward the Slytherin holding pen. Philia followed, throwing a black look back in James' direction.

"Your timing is pretty rotten, James," Albus said, turning around but not raising his eyes.

"Well, I'm terribly sorry. Shall I make an appointment with your scheduler? I assume 'Tabby' would be in charge of that, yes?"

"This isn't about me, you prat," Albus said, finally looking at James. "Tabitha is going through a very hard time. The loss tonight is sort of the last straw. It meant a lot to her. But I'm sure you couldn't care less about that. You only care when Gryffindors have problems."

James narrowed his eyes and spread his hands. "What are you talking about, Al? I've hardly seen a speck of you ever since you disappeared into that Slytherin dungeon! So who exactly doesn't care what's going on outside his own house, eh? And not that you'd care, but I have very good reasons for hating that two-faced viper! Where were you last year when she was calling our Dad a liar and a fraud?"

Albus shook his head, not meeting James' eyes. "That was then. The point is, James, you're a Gryffindor. You just don't understand the way she grew up and the things she's had to deal with. Of course I don't agree with everything they say down there, but you have to understand the way they've been taught. They have reasons for being angry. Especially Tabitha."

James could barely listen. He stomped his foot on the field and nearly cursed. "It doesn't matter! Albus, they're just using you. How can you not see it? They don't have hearts! They don't care about you. Especially that silver-tongued minx. You'll regret ever being taken in by them! And don't say I didn't warn you."

Albus lowered his brow and looked hard at James. "I promise I'll never say you didn't warn me, James. But I'll tell you right now that Tabitha has never talked to me the way you're talking to me right now. Nor has she ever talked about you the way you're talking about her. She's my friend. And to be honest, she needs friends right now—a lot more than I need a brother."

James wanted to spit with rage. How could Albus be so completely obtuse? Albus stared at him as if he was simply waiting for James to go away.

"You took the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map," James finally said, resorting to the one thing he knew he could feel indignant about.

Albus' face changed. He looked truly puzzled and a little wary. "What are you talking about, James?"

"Don't play all innocent with me, Al. You heard the Howler Mum sent me. Rose said everyone in the Great Hall heard it the other day at breakfast. She thinks I stole them, just because I borrowed them last year. You have to tell Mum the truth."

"What truth, James?" Albus said, angry and exasperated. "You do have them! You must! I didn't take them!"

"Of course you did! Don't lie to me! I can always tell!"

"Well, then maybe you don't know me like you think you do! Don't pin this on me, James. I'm not letting you make me into the bad guy just because you hate that I'm a Slytherin."

James spluttered. "What? That has nothing to do with it! I just don't want Mum to think—"

"It has everything to do with it!" Albus yelled, and his voice sounded oddly flat in the thick curtain of snow. The pitch was nearly empty now except for the two boys. "You were so worried about getting into Gryffindor so you could be like dear old Dad and Mum. You tried so hard that you wouldn't let yourself be you! Well, I'm being me, and only me. Albus Severus Potter, Slytherin. You can be jealous all you want, but don't try to ruin it for me! I've been warned that you'll try. But believe me, you'll be sorry if you do."

Albus turned and stalked away, disappearing quickly into the dense snow.

"Al, wait!" James called, starting to follow his brother. He stopped after a few steps. "Look, Al, that came out totally wrong. I don't know what to say to all that, but blimey, there's no reason we need to go to war, is there? We can't let something stupid like our houses come between us."

James could see that Albus had stopped. He was barely a grey shape in the silent snowfall. "You're the one making it a problem, James."

"Look," James said awkwardly, "forget it, all right? But honestly… you really didn't take the map and Cloak?"

Albus' grey shape stood silently, looking back at James. He seemed to shake his head, but James couldn't be sure. Then Albus said, "Are you going to go home for the holiday?"

James blinked. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Mum obviously thinks we talk more than we do," Albus said, as if in explanation. "She sent me a letter the day you got the Howler. The Burrow's been sold. The family is moving everything out over the holiday. It's the only time everybody is available to help. Makes for a pretty awful holiday, though. I told Mum I'm staying here. I don't want to see Granddad's world taken apart bit by bit."

James felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. "They sold the Burrow?"

The hazy silhouette of Albus seemed to nod this time. "Some old couple by the name of Templeton bought it. Not Muggles at least. They're going to tear it down and build a little summer cottage on the property. Mum says at least they're keeping the orchard."

There was a long silence between the two brothers. Finally, James said, "I didn't know. Mum didn't say anything to me."

"Like I said, she thought I'd tell you. And I just did. I'm not going home for that. Happy bloody Christmas, eh?"

James couldn't help chuckling a little hollowly. "Go talk to Tabitha, Al. We'll figure everything out later."

Without a word, Albus turned and vanished completely into the snow. James looked around. The grandstands were almost completely invisible. He seemed to stand in an island of snow-covered grass, surrounded by silently falling flakes. In the darkness, the curtain of snow looked more like ash. James brushed off his shoulders, sighed, and trudged off the pitch.

Rose was equally upset about the sale of the Burrow, but she seemed to reluctantly understand the necessity of it. Together, she and James determined they would also stay at Hogwarts over the holiday. She even managed to make it seem like it might be a fun adventure. She immediately wrote a short letter to her parents asking if it would be all right for her to stay over. James added a note to Rose's letter, asking Aunt Hermione to pass the word on to his mum and dad that he'd decided to stay over as well, as had Albus.

"They'll let us, of course," Rose nodded as she sealed the letter. "They know it'd be awful to see the place broken up over the holiday, especially since we've all spent so many happy Christmases there. Honestly, it'll probably be easier for them to manage if we aren't around anyway."

As a distraction, James returned his attention to the threat of the Gatekeeper and the mystery of Merlin's involvement. He reminded Ralph and Rose that they were to be looking for the two Beacon Stones. He knew they might be very difficult to trace, but as it turned out, the first half of the Beacon Stone was very easy to locate.

James, Ralph, and Rose were taking notes in the last Wizlit class before Christmas holiday when Merlin knocked peremptorily on the door, interrupting Professor Revalvier.

"Ah, Headmaster," Revalvier said, smiling. "We were just speaking of you, in a sense. You do tend to crop up from time to time in the books of the kings, although in a much exaggerated manner, I am sure."

Merlin approached the professor's desk. "Indeed. It is that very detail that I've come to discuss, briefly, if I may."

The Headmaster lowered his voice so that only Revalvier could hear him. The class sensed an unattended moment, and immediately fell to hushed conversations and shuffling of papers, preparing to dismiss for lunch.

Rose nudged James hard with her elbow. James looked over at her, irritated, and then saw her wide eyes and furtive glance. He followed her gesture. Merlin was standing very close to Professor Revalvier, whose smile had vanished. The Headmaster's hand hung at his side, very large and powerful-looking. He didn't have his staff with him, but that didn't mean anything. Merlin seemed able to produce it as necessary, as if he kept it in an invisible closet that followed him wherever he went.

"What?" James whispered, not seeing what Rose was hinting at. Then, with a start, he saw the black ring on Merlin's hand. It sparkled dully, as if it reflected light only reluctantly. He shouldn't have been surprised. He'd been there on the night a thousand years ago when Salazar Slytherin had presented the ring to Merlin. And yet seeing it now, glinting evilly on the sorcerer's finger, made it all too real. Up until now, he'd been able to half-convince himself that it had all been a sort of dream.

Revalvier nodded curtly, obviously unhappy with what Merlin had said to her. Merlin turned and left the room without sparing a glance at the class.

"It seems that there is to be a slight change in this holiday's reading assignment," Revalvier said, closing the book on her desk. "The Headmaster feels it would be more beneficial for us to skip the last century of the Dark Ages and proceed directly to the Renaissance. He may have a point. The Renaissance is, as its name implies, the golden age of wizarding literature. Thus, you may disregard the rest of the current chapter in your textbooks and omit Hrung Hrynddvane from your holiday reading assignment. Perhaps you'll choose to spend that time getting an early start on Waddeljav's Book of Nameless Tales. If so, do keep a written record of the actual story names since they will surely change by the time we reconvene."

As the class clambered toward the door, Rose pushed in between James and Ralph. "Did you see it?" she whispered.

"Yeah," Ralph replied. "I guess there's no doubt about Merlin and this Gatekeeper thing anymore, is there? Why do you suppose he doesn't want us reading Hrynddvane's chronicles?"

"It's obvious," James said in a low voice. "He knows there are things in there about him. He's trying to manage everybody's perceptions about the kind of wizard he is. Revalvier can tell us all she wants about how those histories are exaggerated into legends, but if people keep reading about how Merlin buried this army and flooded that camp and whatever else, there are bound to be people who start to question him. Like Ravenclaw said, he has a way of entrancing people who want to trust him. He needs to make sure everyone keeps wanting to think he's all noble and good."

As the three crossed the library, Ralph angled into a narrow aisle, turning to face James and Rose. "So if Merlin has the stone, does that mean we're all done for?"

"Not exactly," Rose said. "Remember, there were two rings, each with half of the Beacon Stone. Whoever has the other ring also has some influence over the Gatekeeper. As long as Merlin doesn't have both halves, he can't fully control it."

"So our only hope is that the other half of the stone is in the right hands," James replied. "As long as one keeper of the stone is trying to hold the Gatekeeper back, its power will be limited."

Rose looked worried. "For a while, yes. I hadn't had a chance to tell you what I've learned since we last talked about it. According to all the legends, once the Gatekeeper finds a human host—a host who has willingly killed to prove their worthiness—the stones won't influence it at all anymore. The Beacon Stone is the Gatekeeper's foothold in this world, but only until it becomes one with its human host. When that happens, it won't need the stones. Nothing will be able to send it back to the Void."

"When did you read this?" Ralph asked, his face going pale.

"Last night. I've been studying everything I can find about the Curse of the Gatekeeper. I compared notes with Cousin Lucy by owl, and she's right. A lot of it is pretty horrible and fantastic, but all the writings agree on the main details: The Beacon Stone summons the Gatekeeper when the bearer suspends in the Void for a long enough time; the Gatekeeper follows the bearer of the stone into our world, and the bearer becomes its Ambassador; the Ambassador can use the Beacon Stone to send the Gatekeeper back to the Void, but only as long as the Gatekeeper hasn't entered its human host. Once that happens, the Beacon Stone is useless and the Curse of the Gatekeeper is unleashed on the earth. When that happens, nothing can stop it."

James frowned, trying to examine the legend from every angle. "So since the stone's been split in two, neither of the bearers can send it back even if they wanted to."

"But what does the Gatekeeper want?" Ralph asked Rose. "Why does it want to destroy everything?"

Rose's face had also gone pale. "It's really very simple. It hates us because we aren't it. It has always believed it was the only living thing. Now that it has discovered the world of humans, it refuses to share existence with us. Also, even more awful, it feeds on despair and agony like the world's hungriest and most powerful Dementor. But where Dementors only call up your own memories of the worst things that have ever happened to you, the Gatekeeper creates all new feelings. It can manipulate a person's mind at the most basic level, creating raw, sourceless panic and terror. That's what we read about in the tabloid article Lucy sent us. It was trying to figure those humans out, trying to work out the best way to produce what it hungers for. For now, it can only affect a few humans at once. But once it connects with its human host and becomes a part of the community of mankind, it'll be able to affect thousands and millions at once. It'll just suck the terror out of everyone until there's nothing left of them, then leave them like husks and move on. It'll move over the earth doing that until there's no one left at all."

"No one but the host," Ralph squeaked.

"Not even the host," Rose whispered. "In the end, it'll turn on them too. It wishes to be entirely alone. In the end, it'll break its own tool. The scariest thing is that the host may even know it. The host may be so full of pain and sadness and hate that they won't care. They may even wish for it."

Something had pricked James' memory. Rose saw it on his face. "What, James? You look like you just swallowed a hippogriff egg."

"My dream," James replied, touching his forehead. "What you're saying sounds a lot like the words of the voice in my dream. There's this black robed figure standing in the corner, talking all the time, telling the person in my dream that justice will be served, and the day of balance is coming, and it always says that the person in my dream is to be the hand that brings it about if they are willing, if they are up to the task that will prove their worth. And the person in my dream does seem to be willing. They seem to be very sad and very angry, all at the same time. It's as if they've felt a loss so great that it makes the whole world meaningless. Worse, that the whole world shouldn't even exist anymore, because it's the world their tragedy happened in. It's a very vengeful, hateful, hopeless feeling, but mostly, it's just sad, so sad that it's like a black wall that goes on forever with no gate or corners or top to climb over."

"Maybe the person in your dream is meant to be the host of the Gatekeeper," Ralph said, his eyes wide. "It almost sounds like Merlin, doesn't it? I mean, he ended up killing the woman he loved most in all the world. You said he left his own time because he couldn't bear to live in it anymore, knowing what he'd done, right? Maybe coming to this time isn't any better for him! Maybe he'd be happy to let the Gatekeeper destroy everything and everyone, even himself!"

Rose nodded slowly. "It does certainly sound like what he might be feeling. The Gatekeeper's host doesn't have to be its Ambassador, but there's nothing that says it couldn't."

James was thinking hard, trying to remember his dreams. He shook his head. "It's not Merlin, though, in my dream. I've never seen the person's face, but I'm sure it isn't him. It just feels all wrong. It's someone younger. And different. Definitely not Merlin."

Rose gasped and covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes going wide. Ralph jumped at her sudden movement. "What?" he exclaimed.

"The Bloodline!" Rose said in a very high voice. "They even mentioned it in that scene in the Mirror, at Tom Riddle's grave, don't you remember? The Gatekeeper went looking for the best host it could find, and sensed Voldemort's body. It knows almost nothing about humans, so it didn't realize Voldemort was dead until it got there. Then it made the statue talk, somehow tapping into the ghost of Voldemort. The statue told the Gatekeeper that there was another host for it, one with Voldemort's blood in its veins. Remember? It's obvious! The Gatekeeper's host is to be the Bloodline of Voldemort!"

"But who is it?" Ralph asked. "We don't know that, so we're right back where we started."

"We don't know it yet," Rose said, smiling a little nervously. "But we have a way of finding out." She looked at James.

James pressed his lips together and sighed. "My phantom scar. But we don't even know where it's coming from or if we can trust it."

Rose shrugged. "It's all we have. All we can do is hope it's not a trick of some kind. Pay attention to your dreams, James. They're probably our only clue. Maybe you'll finally get a good look at whoever it is and we'll learn who the Bloodline is."

"And who the mysterious speaking voice is too," Ralph added meaningfully.

"Yes, that too," Rose agreed. "Good point, Ralph. Maybe it's Merlin himself, don't you think?"

Ralph heaved a great sigh. "I don't know. I hope not. But the alternative could be worse, couldn't it? I mean, a known enemy is better than an unknown one, right?"

After lunch, James hurried across the castle to the amphitheater where Muggle Studies would be meeting for the rest of the term. When he got to the archway leading outside to the terraced seating, he was quite surprised to feel warm air despite the snowflakes which fell like a curtain over the distant hills.

Damien Damascus met James near the base of the stage. "Fortunately," he said, smiling, "Curry isn't such a slave to doing things like the Muggles that she isn't willing to magic a little atmosphere for us to work in. Nice, eh? Now I just have to get the hang of this thing." He held up a hammer and studied it at arm's length. "It's a bit brutish, don't you think?"

The atmosphere around the stage was indeed strangely pleasant. James took off his cloak and flung it over a seat in the front row. He looked up, smiling in wonderment. The sky was thick with grey clouds and drifting, skirling snowflakes, but the snow seemed to vanish as it fell into the air over the amphitheater. The light near the stage even seemed brighter, as if an errant sunbeam had simply bypassed the cloud cover and jumped directly into the bowl of the amphitheater. James remembered his Technomancy classes from last year, and knew that somewhere, strangely, a small, dark pocket of snow was falling on a warm, sunny hillside.

"Ah, James," Curry cried, walking briskly across the stage. "My little Treus, you're here after all. I trust you have your script. Do join us. We're simply blocking out scenes for now, but it helps to have you read through the lines for timing purposes."

As James read aloud through his lines and walked through act one with the rest of the actors, he found he was truly enjoying himself despite his earlier worries about Merlin and the Gatekeeper. It felt a little strange acting out the parts amidst the clatter and shouts of Jason Smith's hardworking stage crew. As James read through a scripted conversation with Noah Metzker as Donovan, Damien and three other crew members were raising a gigantic wooden mock-up of a castle wall, complete with a rampart, a turret, and a balcony. Their shouts and grunts of effort nearly drowned out James and Noah's words.

As they moved over the stage, Curry followed them with a roll of thick yellow tape. Occasionally, she'd move James by the shoulders, positioning him on the stage.

"Hit this mark when you read that line," she'd instruct him, bending down to tape an 'X' on the stage floor. "We'll arrange a spotlight for this position. Mr. Metzker, do go ahead, and make sure you don't turn your back on the audience."

"But James is over there," Noah said, gesturing. "I'm supposed to be talking to him, aren't I?"

"You are an actor, Mr. Metzker," Curry trilled. "You are speaking to the audience first and foremost."

Noah frowned and looked out over the mostly empty seats. "But they aren't the ones threatening to run off with Astra, are they?"

Curry sighed. "Just read the lines, Mr. Metzker. We'll work out who's running off with whom later."

As they prepared to read through act two, James realized he'd been feeling a dull throb in his forehead. He reminded himself not to rub it, but it was definitely getting worse. He glanced out over the amphitheater seating, squinting through the glare of the spotlights. There, sitting near the back, almost lost in the shadows, was Merlin. James couldn't make out his face, but he could easily see the large man's shape. Merlin seemed to realize James was looking at him. He raised a hand and tapped his forehead slowly, as if he were making a sign. James' eyes widened, and then, suddenly, his forehead burned. It was as if a hot poker had been pressed to it. James squeezed his eyes shut, turning away.

He bumped into someone, nearly knocking them over.

"James? What is it?" Curry called out. "You nearly knocked your leading lady off the stage."

James looked up, the pain in his forehead receding again. Petra was looking at him with a concerned expression. "Are you all right, James?"

"It's just the lights," James lied. "They're pretty hot. I'm fine now." He tried to grin and shrug.

Curry turned and began calling for the rest of the performers for the second act. Petra moved close to James and lowered her voice. "I know what you mean about the lights," she said, smiling. "These Muggle electric spotlights are like death rays, aren't they? Too bad we didn't have one to use with the Wocket last year."

James grinned and flushed. "Yeah," he said, and then didn't know what else to say. "Er, do you know all your lines yet?"

"Not at all," Petra admitted. "Frankly, I feel a little bad about getting the role. Poor Josephina's been forced to work in the costume shop. She can't sew at all either. They just have her ripping seams when the others make mistakes. I hear the Vertigo Hex is still so strong that she can't even climb stairs. She's moved into the hospital wing until they can figure out a way to get her up to her dorm."

Petra's voice sounded concerned, but James saw that she was smiling a little. James realized it was a little funny. Josephina had been rather insufferable about getting the part of Astra, and James felt very strongly that Petra would play the part better anyway. He decided to say so to Petra.

"It is a shame about Josephina, I suppose," he said, "but I'm really glad you got the part. I'd much rather play Treus for you than for her."

"Places, everyone!" Curry called. "Mr. Potter, Miss Morganstern, this way please."

Petra glanced away at the sound of Curry's voice. "Come, James," she said, striding away, "our public awaits."

James felt himself blush. He watched Petra walk across the stage and then ran to catch up.

"Are you sure you don't want to come to Dad's flat with me for the holiday?" Ralph asked James and Rose as the three lurked around the halls late Saturday morning. "I came to your Christmas last year, so it'd be a fair trade. Dad's going to cook a goose and everything. Of course, there won't be any singing elf heads or Winkles and Augers or anything,"

"That's all right, Ralph," James answered. "I rather prefer a Christmas without singing elf heads, actually. But really, I think it'd be best for us to stay here."

"It's all right not to have magic for Christmas. There's no shame in your father being a Squib," Rose said, putting her hand on Ralph's shoulder, which was rather a reach for her. "He's quite an important man in the wizarding world these days. Head of Security and Precautionary Interference for Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, even Gringotts Bank, isn't he? Nobody else but him could do that since nobody else understands both Muggle electronics and magic like he does."

"Yeah, I know," Ralph said, grinning sheepishly. "And he's really good at it. He's helping the Ministry develop a new kind of Disillusionment Charm that only works on Muggle global positioning devices. I mean, the greatest flaw in the regular Disillusionment Charm is that a GPS device doesn't have a brain to fool. He's calling the new spell an 'Artificial Stupidity Hex'. He used to work on artificial intelligence software, so he says this is the next logical step. Once the hex is in place, it makes any Muggle positioning device see detours, roadblocks, heavy traffic, even cyclones and floods around any magical place. That way, both the Muggles and their technology will find those magical places invisible."

"That's brilliant," Rose said. "I mean, older generations of wizards never could have predicted the development of things like satellites and GPS devices and GameDecks with online chat capability. The wizarding world really needs a man like your dad to develop magical protections against things like that. He really was a godsend."

"Still," Ralph said, his face falling a little, "Dad has taken his old name again. Dolohov. He says he isn't going to let the selfishness of his father rob him of his magical heritage, but I know a little bit about that heritage, and it isn't all that great."

"You father's right," Rose said firmly. "You aren't responsible for anything your distant relatives did. I think it's very cool that your dad is changing the way people see the name Dolohov."

Ralph shrugged. "He's not changing it for everyone. Lots of people still hate the Dolohov name. Some of them are right here in school. Everybody knows what happened here. I mean, my uncle killed Ted Lupin's dad right downstairs. The Dolohov name is the name of murderers and traitors."

"It was awful that some of your family were so bad in the past," Rose replied, "but that was a long time ago. People shouldn't blame you for that."

Ralph sighed. "I suppose not, but they do. And honestly, I can't blame them. It's why I still go by the name Deedle. I hate my own grandparents even though they're long dead. Dad remembers them, and he wants to believe they weren't as bad as they seem. He's sort of trapped between loving them and hating them. But what kind of parents abandon their kid because he's different? What kind of people make that kid swear to never seek them out, or even talk about them?"

Rose didn't have an answer to that. The three wandered the halls aimlessly, passing tall windows, moving in and out of pools of cold winter sunlight. After a few minutes, James told Ralph and Rose about his conversation with Albus after the last Quidditch match.

"He says he didn't take the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map?" Rose said. "Do you believe him?"

James shrugged. "I don't know. He sure seemed honest about it. But he was really moody. Apparently he's pretty tight with Tabitha and her Fang and Talons cronies, and they've been telling him that I'm jealous of him, that I'm going to try to mess things up for him somehow."

"And are you?" Ralph asked.

"What?" James replied. "Oh yeah. I keep forgetting you're a Slytherin too. No, Ralph. I'm not jealous of Al, and I'm not going to try to sabotage him. I just don't want him to fall for any of Tabitha's lies. She's already got him convinced that she needs him because she's going through some mysterious personal tragedy."

Rose arched her eyebrows. "Really? What tragedy?"

"I don't know. She was all upset after the match, and not just because they lost."

"She has been pretty ugly around the common room lately," Ralph said. "She's not been her normal polite, ice queen self at all. She's snapping at people a lot, and stalking around, or sitting all by herself in the corner, mooning over parchments and books. I've even seen her send Philia and Tom Squallus away. But she doesn't send Albus away. It looks a little odd, really. I mean, she's a seventh-year and a foot taller than him. Not a likely pair, if you ask me."

"Curious," Rose said, narrowing her eyes. "I wonder what's going on with her."

"But what about the Cloak and the map?" Ralph asked. "If Albus really doesn't have them, and you don't have them, James, then who does?"

James slumped. "I don't know. Honestly, I don't care. Maybe Dad misplaced them somehow. Maybe Kreacher hid them away in his cupboard. He used to do that all the time at Grimmauld Place with all old Mrs. Black's stuff."

"You should tell your mum to check there," Rose said.

"It's not my problem, Rose," James snapped.

"It's your problem if she keeps thinking you stole them," Rose replied smoothly. "But whatever suits you. Maybe you prefer letting everyone think you're a thief."

The three stood by a window overlooking the courtyard. At the bottom of the main steps, Hagrid was loading trunks and bags onto a carriage, preparing to transport a group of students to the Hogwarts Express for their trip home. James sighed.

"I'd better go pack," Ralph said. "Dad's picking me up at the station tonight. We're spending the night in Hogsmeade so he can meet with some storeowners there, and then we're going back to London tomorrow."

"Sounds fun, Ralphinator," James said, trying to buck up a bit. "Have a good holiday. Stay out of the Shrieking Shack."

"Count on it," Ralph agreed. "I avoid anything with the word 'shrieking' in it."