James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper

13. CHRISTMAS AT HOGWARTS

By the next day, the school had emptied almost entirely. The corridors seemed eerily dark and silent with most of the classrooms shut and locked. As James made his way to breakfast on Sunday morning, he saw Cedric Diggory's ghost at the end of a long hall. He seemed to be in conversation with the Grey Lady. Both were floating slowly down the hall away from him. James decided not to interrupt them. Was it possible that Cedric fancied the Grey Lady? She was pretty enough, in a ghostly way, and she didn't appear to be much older than Cedric in human terms. In another sense though, she was several centuries older than Cedric, but maybe that didn't matter in the ghostly realm. Either way, it was far too bizarre for James to think about. He continued on his way to breakfast, shaking his head.

In the Great Hall, Rose was sitting at the Slytherin table with Albus. As James joined them, he heard them talking about the sale of the Burrow. It was a thoroughly depressing conversation, and James stayed out of it. Later, he suggested that the three of them go out and build snowmen in the courtyard. This was heartily agreed to, and the three spent the noon hours happily laughing and romping in the new snow. They succeeded in building a rather ridiculously large snowman, using their wands to levitate the enormous snowballs into position since they were far too heavy to lift. James and Rose attempted to levitate Albus himself up to the snowman's head to attach the carrot nose, but they were unable to keep him upright. Albus rolled over in the air until he was floating upside down. His hat fell off and plopped into the snow twelve feet below.

"Don't drop me!" he yelled, flapping his arms like an awkward bird. On the ground, wands in hand, Rose and James laughed so hard that tears squeezed from their eyes and rolled down their red cheeks.

"The carrot, Al!" Rose cried breathlessly. "Stick it in! What's the matter? Can't you fly?"

"Give me a broom and I'll fly," Albus griped, kicking his legs to turn himself upright again. "Next time, you get carrot duty, Rosie."

The three finally blundered inside as the sun lowered toward the horizon in a blaze of orange and pink. They left their snowy cloaks, hats, and gloves in a dripping trail as they made their way to the Great Hall for cocoas and afternoon snacks. James was glad of the break and the time to spend as a family. He purposely avoided talking about Merlin or the missing Invisibility Cloak and Marauder's Map.

"We should do this again next year," Rose said, smiling over her cocoa, her cheeks red. "It's sort of fun having the place to ourselves. Next year, we can get Hugo and Lucy and everybody else to stay with us."

"What about Louis?" Albus asked, smiling crookedly.

"He can stay too, I suppose, just so long as he doesn't talk," Rose said magnanimously.

"He probably wouldn't want to stay," James commented. "He went home this year with Victoire, you know. Of course, she wants to see Ted. Louis is just along for the ride."

"Are they spending all their time out at the Burrow packing?" Rose asked.

Albus shrugged morosely. "Packing's all done. Grandma Weasley managed that all by herself. I mean, how hard is packing for a witch like her? The big job is dividing everything up. Grandma and Granddad had an awful lot of stuff. And then there's the ghoul to take care of."

"Who's getting that?" Rose asked, frowning a little distastefully. "It better not end up in my mum and dad's attic."

"I bet it does," James replied, stirring his cocoa. "In fact, I bet your parents just move it into your room while you're at school. After all, it still looks quite a bit like Uncle Ron when he was our age. They may even like it better than you."

Rose rolled her eyes. "You'll have to try harder than that to get a rise out of me, James Potter."

"I bet it's in your room even now," Albus said thoughtfully, "wearing your make-up and trying on your knickers."

Rose nearly knocked her cocoa over lunging for Albus. James and Albus hooted laughter, earning an annoyed look from a house-elf cleaning a nearby window.

Time crept by surprisingly slowly as Christmas approached. James, Rose, and Albus spent the time playing Winkles and Augers in each other's common rooms, exploring the snow-covered grounds, and visiting Hagrid in his hut. Meals were taken in the company of the few remaining students and teachers, among whom were Fiera Hutchins, Hugo Paulson, and, to James' surprise, Josephina Bartlett, whose vertigo was only slightly better. She could manage sitting on a bench at the Ravenclaw table, although if she happened to drop a bread crust or a fork, she was completely unable to bend over to retrieve it. James felt a little sorry for her, but then he saw her yelling tersely at one of the house-elves to retrieve a new fork for her and determined that her arrogance and general insufferability had not been greatly affected by her predicament.

On Christmas morning, James was rather shocked to be awakened by the smell of fresh kippers and a deep, bullfrog voice.

"A merry Christmas to you, Master James," the voice said. "Lays there like a stone, he does, like his breakfast will stay hot by pure and simple magic until he decides he's ready to eat it, which it will, of course, but only because Kreacher works so hard day and night to hone the best Warming Charms for it…"

"Kreacher?" James asked blearily, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. A tray of immaculately prepared breakfast had been laid over his legs. A black rose and a candy cane protruded from a tiny alabaster vase in the corner of the tray. "What are you doing here?"

"Sent by your dear mum, Master James," Kreacher said, bowing low. He was standing at the end of James' bed, dressed only in his tea towel despite the cold of the room. "Already served Christmas breakfasts to Master Albus and Mistress Rose. Your presents await you below."

"James!" Albus called from the common room stairs. "Come on! Kreacher won't let us unwrap anything until we're all together! Orders from Mum, of course. So chow down already!"

James bolted a few bites of the kippers and drank his pumpkin juice, thanked Kreacher, then flung himself out of bed. Rose and Albus were seated by the fire below, drinking tea and wearing green hats with jingle bells on the tips. Rose grinned and shook her head, ringing the tassels.

"Festive, eh? They came from my mum. She knew we'd not have decorated or anything. Put yours on!"

She tossed one of the hats to James. He smiled and jammed it onto his head. Kreacher came slowly down the stairs. He had also donned one of the hats, although he wore it like it weighed a hundred pounds. The hat covered his eyes. He pushed it up with a thumb, peering at James, Rose, and Albus with one eye. "All present and accounted for," he said to himself. "Merry Christmas, Masters and Mistress."

He snapped his fingers. There was a change in the light of the room and James sensed that a sort of protective field had been removed from the stack of presents. Albus whooped and leapt off the couch, attacking the biggest one with his name on it. James grinned happily and joined in.

Kreacher remained with the three until all the presents were unwrapped, then, dutifully, he collected all the cast-off wrapping paper and ribbons. He rolled the debris up, compressing it into a remarkably dense, colorful ball, and then, strangely, stuffed it inside his green tasseled hat. He put the hat back on his head while Rose struggled not to giggle at the silliness of it.

"Kreacher has been asked to inform you that your parents will speak to you tonight via Floo Network," the elf warbled. "Kreacher takes his leave of you now, Masters and Mistress. Do have a pleasant holiday."

"You too, Kreacher," Rose said around a mouthful of gingerbread witch.

"Indeed," Kreacher replied. He raised a spindly arm and snapped his fingers. The elf vanished in a puff of greenish smoke.

"Always liked that elf," Albus proclaimed. "Knows how to keep it businesslike, he does. No beating about the bush."

Rose said, "I feel a little sorry for him. What does he get for Christmas?"

"Oh Rose, you're as bad as your mum," James replied. "Two Christmases ago, Mum and Dad tried to give Kreacher a Christmas present. It was just a little basket with a pillow in it for him to sleep on. They bought it at a Muggle pet store, because the little brute refuses to sleep in a regular bed. He didn't want to accept it though, and when they insisted he keep it, he wouldn't even use it like he was supposed to. He's been using it ever since as a basket for carrying around the laundry!"

"Honestly, Rose," Albus agreed, "Kreacher isn't made to be happy. We try. We really do. Especially Dad. Kreacher and him have a sort of history."

"I know," Rose said. "He just seems so miserable."

"Hah!" James exclaimed. "This is ecstatic by Kreacher's standards. I've heard about what he was like when Dad first inherited him. Kreacher sent him a box of maggots for a Christmas present."

"He didn't!" Rose gasped, covering her mouth.

Albus pulled a homemade green and silver scarf out of one of his unwrapped boxes. He threw it around his neck. "Trust us, Rosie. This is Kreacher happy. Otherwise, we'd have gotten leeches for breakfast instead of kippers."

That afternoon, Albus took James and Rose down to the cellars and showed them the Slytherin's spell-casting range. Just as Albus had described, the room was long and low with clockwork dummies installed against the far wall. Albus illustrated how the range worked by whipping out his wand and shooting a Stinging Hex at one of the dummies. It lifted its wooden arms and shook them in a parody of pain, as if it were being peppered with bee stings. Albus repeated the spell, laughing. James laughed as well, but a little nervously. Rose didn't laugh at all. She looked distastefully at Albus and crossed her arms.

Christmas dinner in the Great Hall was as resplendent as any dinner James had ever attended despite the fact that the room was only a fifth full. Professors Knossus Shert and Lucia Heretofore, the new Potions teacher and Head of Slytherin House, were seated at the table on the dais. Hagrid sat between them, talking loudly and looking like what he was: a half-giant between two rather slight people. Heretofore looked obviously disgusted by Hagrid, although she masked it behind a thin smile. To James' surprise, Petra Morganstern was seated in the middle of the Gryffindor table, smiling slightly as Hagrid attempted to lead his fellow professors in a round of Christmas carols.

"I didn't know you were here for Christmas," James said, sitting down at the table across from Petra.

"Yeah," Rose agreed, "where've you been?"

"I went down to Hogsmeade for a few days," Petra answered. "Did a little shopping. No point in moping around here all holiday."

"Why didn't you go home for Christmas?" Rose asked.

Petra shrugged, still smiling up at the dais. "No point, really. I already got my present, didn't I?"

James raised his eyebrows. "You mean that box that came by Ministry owl last month? We were all wondering about that. It came from your dad?"

Petra nodded and sipped her Butterbeer. "Madam Rosmerta had this shipped from the Three Broomsticks for tonight. Did you know that? I talked to her yesterday."

"So what did you get for Christmas?" Albus asked. "I got a new scarf, a box of sweets, and a Remembrall. Honestly, Mum should've given the Remembrall to James so he could keep track of Quidditch try-outs." He grinned at James.

Petra looked at Albus, still smiling. "It was just some stuff. It wouldn't mean much to anyone but me."

"So that's why you ran off to open it by yourself," Albus commented. Rose kicked him under the table.

Petra shrugged. "It's nice to have some time by ourselves, isn't it? I'm taking the time to learn my lines. Would you like to rehearse a little, James? Professor Curry would probably put us in her will if we came back from break knowing all of our lines."

"Sure!" James said, a little too enthusiastically. He modulated his tone and added, "I mean, whatever. If you want to. I don't have much else planned."

"You don't have anything else planned," Albus smirked. "What, you have an interview with the Minister of Magic we don't know about? Ow! And Rose, you can stop kicking me under the table already!"

Petra grinned at Albus, then James. "I'll see you later in the common room. Bring your script and we'll read through it, all right?"

James nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Petra left, walking slowly, thoughtfully.

"James is in love with his leading lady," Albus mocked, making kissing noises.

"I'm not in love with her, you prat," James scowled, pretending it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.

"Oh James, you're not fooling anyone," Rose said, shaking her head. "It's obvious. It's kind of cute, actually."

"Shut up!" James said, blushing furiously. "Just because I have to pretend to be in love with her for the play doesn't mean it's happened for real! Maybe I'm just a very good actor!"

Rose tried to mask a grin. "Well, then, you really are getting into your role, aren't you? I had no idea you were so dedicated to the craft. It's a good thing you aren't scripted to murder anyone."

James rolled his eyes dramatically. "You're both completely daft. Think whatever you want."

Albus studied James for a moment, and then made more kissing noises at him. "Oh Petra, I'm just a boy, but you make me feel like such a man!"

James grabbed a roll and hurled it at Albus, who collapsed into delighted laughter.

When James returned to the common room a little while later, leaving Rose and Albus singing Christmas carols with Hagrid in the Great Hall, he was pleased and a bit flustered to find Petra sitting in a chair near the fire, script in hand. He ran up the steps to his dormitory, retrieved his own copy of the script from his satchel, and tramped back downstairs again, telling himself the entire time not to be a fool, that Rose and Albus certainly couldn't be right about his falling in love with Petra, and most of all, that even if it was true, it was preposterous to think she could ever return those feelings. She was nearly five years older than James, smart as could be, and totally stunning. Girls like Petra simply did not fancy gawky younger boys who still hadn't managed the knack of an Anti-Pimple Charm. James' face was flushed by the time he rejoined Petra, plopping onto a nearby couch.

"Alas, my dear Treus," Petra quoted, turning a page in her script, "thou doth set mine heart aflutter. Shall we start from the top?"

James began to answer, but his voice came out as a squeak. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Sure. I'll read whoever you're talking to, and you can do the same for me."

"I can do a pretty good Donovan," Petra agreed. "I even considered trying out for the part."

"And I suppose Noah could've played Astra?" James grinned.

Petra nodded. "A century ago, men often played the roles of women in these kinds of plays. Some places didn't even allow women to act at all. Turnabout is fair play, I'd say. Besides, sometimes I think it'd be fun to act the part of the evil rogue with the awesome powers. Women are always the pawns in these stories."

James thought she was possibly the prettiest pawn he'd ever seen, but he determined not to say it. He cleared his throat again and began to read aloud. Two hours later, once they'd finished the read-through, James noticed that Albus and Rose had entered the common room. They were seated at a rear table with Hugo Paulson, who was teaching Albus some Winkles and Augers techniques. James caught Rose looking at him furtively, a small smile on her lips.

"Hey, James," Albus called, pocketing his wand. "Remember, we're supposed to be talking to Mum and Dad via Floo Network tonight. Or should I tell them you have more pressing matters to attend to?"

James glared at Albus, who simply grinned back at him.

"It's fine, James," Petra sighed, closing her script. "I've had enough of this for tonight anyway. I'm going to head upstairs and write some Christmas letters. Thanks for the help."

"It was fun," James agreed. "See you around, Petra."

As James watched Petra cross the room to the girls' dormitory stairs, Rose joined him on the couch.

"You really should be careful, James," she said in a quiet voice.

James barely heard her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Petra's not in a position to respond the way you'd like her to."

"I don't know what you're talking about," James insisted, finally turning around and closing his script. "We were just rehearsing."

"It isn't just the age difference, you know. That's not that big of a deal in the long run. You need to realize that Petra's heart is obviously elsewhere."

James furrowed his brow and looked at Rose. "What's that mean?"

"Well, it's obvious, James," Rose said, lowering her voice even further. "Petra didn't go down to Hogsmeade to do any shopping, no matter what she said. She was hoping to catch Ted before he left for the Burrow."

"Why would she do that?" James asked, blinking.

Rose rolled her eyes and shook her head. "She's still in love with him, you prat. She's broken-hearted that he left her for Victoire."

"But Noah said that she never really loved him," James said, frowning. "He said she knew all along that he wasn't a good match for her."

"She may say that, but the heart does what it wants, doesn't it? She loves Ted. It's obvious. I just don't want you to do or say anything that could ruin your friendship with her. I don't want to see you get hurt."

James slumped back against the couch. "What do you think I am, Rose? A complete idiot? Even if what you say is true, I'd never say anything about it to Petra."

"Sorry, James. Unrequited love is as poison to the soul, isn't it?"

"Ha, ha," James replied crossly. "That's Treus' line in act two. You're very funny."

"Look," Albus yelled, jumping up from the table in the corner. "The grate! Hi, Dad! Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas to you, son," Harry Potter's face grinned from the coals of the fireplace.

"Hi, Uncle Harry," Rose chimed, climbing off the couch to kneel in front of the grate. "How's everything going at the Burrow?"

Harry seemed to shrug. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. It's not the way any of us would prefer to spend the holiday, but today was all right. Lily is staying with Andromeda Tonks, and everyone here sends their love. Kreacher says you all looked well enough. Did you like your presents?"

"I love the scarf," Albus replied. "And the Remembrall. And the sweets were great too."

"Don't tell me you ate them all already, son,"

"I did, but don't tell Mum. I'm a growing boy, Dad. Got to keep bulked up for Quidditch!"

Albus and Harry spent a few minutes discussing the Quidditch season, and Harry congratulated Albus on making Slytherin Seeker even though he admitted he was glad Gryffindor had so far edged them out of the tournament.

"There's a whole line of people who want to say hi," Harry said. "Quit pushing, Hermione!"

Harry's face sank out of the coals and was replaced a moment later by Hermione's distinctive features and thick hair. "Happy Christmas, Rosie," she cried, "and you too, James and Albus. Are you all doing well?"

"Well enough," James said. "It's been a mad year so far. It's a lot to explain."

Rose grinned at her mother. "James is right. We have an awful lot to tell you about. Our first week here, Merlin took us for a hundred-kilometer walk through the woods to go and get this magical box of all his stuff, and—"

"Just a moment, Rosie," Hermione said. "Ron, I'll ask in a minute. And do you really want to eat that biscuit? How many have you had?"

Hermione's face vanished from the grate. A second later, Ron's grin surfaced. "Hey, Rosie! Are these two taking good care of you? 'Cause if they aren't…"

"Hi, Uncle Ron," Albus said happily. Ron had always been Albus' favorite. "I'm a Slytherin!"

"Hi, Dad," Rose grinned. "How's Hugo?"

"Everyone is fine here, considering everything," Ron said, his grin fading. "Ted and Charlie got in a fight over something Victoire said, although nobody seems all that sure what it was. George drank a little too much Firewhisky, tripped over the ghoul, and broke his left pinky finger on some trunks. And your Grandmother is either yelling at everybody or breaking down in tears. It's a glorious Christmas all round. Come to think of it, do you blokes have a spare bed there? I think I'd even be willing to bunk out with you in the Slytherin quarters, Al."

"Yeah!" Albus agreed instantly. "Come on over by Floo! You can have Ralph's bed!"

From behind Ron, Aunt Fleur's voice said, "You are not going anywhere, Ron Weasley."

"It was a joke, Fleur. Bloody hell."

Ron's face sank out of the coals. There seemed to be some commotion, then Ginny appeared.

"Hi, boys! Hi, Rose! Happy Christmas!" she said, smiling.

"What's going on over there, Mum?" Albus asked. "Sounds like quite a ruckus."

Ginny sighed. "You three are lucky you aren't here. It's just not a very nice way to spend Christmas. Fortunately, most everything is packed and moved out. We saved the beds for last so we can spend the night, but tomorrow morning, we'll take them away too. How are the three of you doing?"

James, Rose, and Albus told Ginny they were doing fine. Rose asked, "So what's it like? I can't bear to think of the Burrow all empty. What's Grandmother going to do?"

"It's fine, actually," Ginny said, but not very convincingly. "I mean, yes, it's sad. Most of us have been coming here all our lives. But it's for the best, really. Everybody knows that. Grandma Weasley will be staying with us for the time being. We have plenty of room, especially now that you two are out of the house," she indicated James and Albus with her eyes. "But still. Your father packed up Granddad Weasley's garage all by himself. I couldn't bear to look at it all. He was very strong about it though. I'm… I'm very proud of him."

Ginny stopped abruptly. She sniffed and looked down for a moment. Then, with a different expression, she looked up again. "How's Slytherin treating you, Albus? Do they feed you well?"

Albus laughed. "Mum, we all eat together in the Great Hall. You know that. It isn't like Slytherins have a secret dining room or anything."

"Well, I was never in the Slytherin quarters, you know. I didn't know they had a spell-casting range either. But they're taking good care of you?"

"Sure, Mum," Albus said, smiling. "I like it there."

"And what about you, James?" Ginny asked, turning to her oldest son.

"I'm fine," James answered blandly, not quite looking at his mum. "I got your Howler. Sort of."

"I'm sorry, James," Ginny said. "I was very angry when I sent that. There was more to it than just the missing Cloak and map. I know that now. This is a very stressful time for us all here. It just wasn't a good time to pull something like that again."

"I didn't take them, Mum!" James said suddenly, desperately wanting his mum to believe him. "I thought Albus must have done it, but he says he didn't take them either!"

Ginny studied James' face for a long moment. "Well, if neither of you took them, where have they gone?" she asked reasonably.

"How should I know?" James answered, a little mollified. "Maybe Kreacher hid them away in his cupboard. You know how he used to do that with old Mrs. Black's things when he thought they needed protecting. Have you checked his cupboard?"

Ginny exhaled wearily. "No. Honestly, it didn't occur to me. I hope you are right, James. Are you absolutely sure you're telling me the truth, son?"

"Yes, Mum! I promise! I didn't touch them this time."

"And you, Albus? You don't know anything about it?"

Albus shrugged. "First I heard about it was when James' Howler went off at breakfast. Then James nearly tackled me after the last Quidditch match, accusing me of setting him up. That's all I know about it, Mum."

Ginny shook her head dismissively. "Then I'm sure they'll turn up. I'll ask Kreacher about it. Maybe he took your doll too, James. He may have them all together down there in his little collection."

"My doll?" James asked.

"Yes," Ginny answered, distracted by something going on elsewhere in the Burrow. "The little James doll you gave me last year at the end of school. It went missing at the same time as the Cloak and map, but I just assumed I'd misplaced it. I wasn't as worried about that. I mean, why would you sneak your doll back to school with you?"

Rose had turned to look at James, her eyebrows raised in alarm.

"Oh, and James," Ginny said, interrupting herself, "did you talk to Zane?"

James blinked, his thoughts racing. "What? Zane? No, not lately."

"He showed up in the Burrow earlier today. Well, I say 'showed up'. He sort of, er, materialized. We had to shoot him with Stunning Spells to keep him visible. Those Americans have some really curious methods of communication, don't they? Anyway, he thought you'd be here along with Rose. He said he really needed to talk to you. He asked me to tell you to keep an eye out for him."

James nodded. "Sure, Mum. OK."

"Well, I really should go," Ginny said. "Grandma says happy Christmas, and she'd love to chat, but we already packed the floor rug and kneeling on the hearthstones is too hard on her knees. Take care of each other. Rose, make sure those two eat something green every now and then. And be sure to keep up with your studies, you two!"

"Yes, Mum," Albus and James said in unison.

Ginny smiled mistily. "I love you, all three of you. Goodnight and happy Christmas!"

Ron and Hermione each made one more appearance in the fireplace, saying their goodbyes. Finally, Harry appeared once more. He smiled wearily. "Take care, you three. You're not getting into any trouble, are you?"

"No more than you would've," Albus smirked.

"Dad," James said, "I didn't take the Cloak and map this time."

"I know, James. Your mother already told me. I believe you."

"But who has them, then?"

"You leave that to me," Harry smiled. "I'm Head Auror, remember? What kind of Auror would I be if I let something like the Invisibility Cloak slip out of my hands? If you don't have them, then they're probably lost under the bed back at home, or in the bottom of the clothes hamper. They'll turn up."

"But Dad," James said, lowering his voice, "what about the voodoo doll I got from Professor Jackson last year? That's me! Mum says it's gone missing too!"

Harry seemed to understand James' concern. "Those things don't work like they show in the Muggle films, son. You'll be all right. Your mum liked it a lot though. She squeezed it every night."

"I know," James said, smiling slightly. "I felt her squeezes, a little."

Harry's smile widened. "Don't worry about it, James. It'll turn up. Things always do, no matter how lost they seem. It's a rule of life."

James nodded. "Thanks, Dad."

"Good night, all of you," Harry said. "Happy Christmas. Now go get some rest."

"You too," Rose answered. "Give everyone our love. Squeeze Lily for us when you see her next."

Harry nodded. "I will, Rose." He glanced at James and Albus, smiling proudly, and then he was gone. The coals reverted to a senseless strew.

"Sounds as if we made the right choice staying here," Albus commented, climbing to his feet. "I wonder what will happen to all of Granddad's things. What about his flying Ford?"

James sighed. "What's it matter? Granddad's the one that gave all those things any meaning. Without him, they're all just… stuff."

Albus glared at James but didn't seem to know what to say.

Rose stood up and brushed off her knees. "I'm sure your dad won't just throw it all away," she soothed. "Granddad spent years collecting those things. It's all part of our memory of him. Uncle Harry will find a place for it all."

"Nobody found a place for the Burrow," Albus said quietly. "Now it's empty, and pretty soon, it'll be torn down." There was no response to that. A moment later, Albus went on, "I'm heading back downstairs. I'll see you both tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Albus," Rose replied, nodding. As Albus disappeared through the portrait hole, Rose turned to James, her eyes sharp.

"Your voodoo doll's gone missing too! This could be serious!"

"You heard Dad. He says it's all right. He says they don't work like they do in the Muggle flicks. It's not like anyone who finds it can use it to pull my arms off or make me do things I don't want to do."

"Voodoo is a really secret art," Rose said, shaking her head. "And Madame Delacroix is one of the best voodoo witches there is. You don't know what that doll is capable of, and neither does your dad. Not really. You have to be really careful with things like that."

"What do you think I'm going to do, Rose? I can't just magically find the bloody thing. It probably did just fall down behind the headboard in Mum and Dad's room."

"I wouldn't be willing to take that chance if I was you," Rose said gravely. "Not until you know for sure what that doll is capable of."

"You make it sound like it's alive," James said, grinning a little nervously. Rose merely stuck her hands on her hips and cocked her head as if to say how do you know it's not?.

"I'll look into it," a voice said from behind Rose, causing her to jump a foot into the air.

"Zane Walker!" she cried, spinning and clutching her hand to her heart. "Stop doing that! You scared me half to death!"

"Sorry," Zane said, "it's hard to knock with Doppelganger hands. They just go right through things."

"Hey, Zane, Happy Christmas," James smiled, turning on the couch to face the half-transparent form. "You need a zap?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind. I'm managing this message all by myself. I didn't want anyone else to hear it."

James produced his wand and shot the ghostly figure of Zane with a Stinging Hex. The Doppelganger pulsed to something resembling a solid shape.

"So? Aunt Ginny tells us you were looking for us at the Burrow," Rose said crossly, plopping back onto the couch. "What's so important that you needed to interrupt us on Christmas Day?"

"I was worried about you," Zane said seriously. "I wanted to warn you, but then I found out that you'd stayed here at the school, and I knew everything would be all right. For now, at least."

James frowned. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't we be safe? I mean, relatively speaking, considering the Gatekeeper is loose on the earth and all that."

Zane's face was very pale and grave. "Remember when we talked in the barn a couple of weeks ago? Rose, you told me all about how Merlin had been tricked by that guy, Hadyn, a thousand years ago. He said Merlin would get his fiancée back if he doubled Hadyn's lands and fortified his castle, making it so that Merlin himself couldn't even attack anyone inside it."

"Yeah," James said, shrugging. "So?"

"So, Merlin knows somebody broke into his office a few weeks ago. He knows that person zapped themselves into his Magic Mirror and probably found out some not-so-nice things about him. And Merlin probably knows that that person was you, James. So haven't you wondered why he hasn't said boo to you about any of it?"

"Well," James answered slowly, "like you said that day in the barn, if Merlin was evil, he'd have come for us. The fact that he hasn't must mean he isn't as bad as he could be. Maybe, somehow, he's on the good side after all, and he knows we are too. Maybe he's letting us go because he knows we're trying to help fight the Gatekeeper." Even as James said it, it sounded false to him. In his heart, he didn't believe it, but he couldn't think of any other reason that Merlin wouldn't have come for them.

Zane was shaking his head. "That's what I thought at the time. But then I thought about the conversation that happened between Slytherin and Merlin, back when he had you locked in his laboratory. You said that they talked about the deal Hadyn had tricked Merlin into making, and they made it pretty clear that Hogwarts is the castle Hadyn lived in when he made the deal. Don't you see what that means?"

Rose's eyes widened. "It means Hogwarts is the castle Merlin fortified. It can't be breached from outside," she said, nodding. "That would explain how even Voldemort and his forces were kept out for so long back during the battle. Merlin's protective spells were still in effect, although they were probably weakened a bit after a thousand years."

"It would also explain how the secret entrances just keep opening up again over time," James agreed, awed. "Like the one beneath the Whomping Willow! It's like the castle heals itself when it's been damaged! Merlin's magical fortifications are still at work after all these centuries! Even the new parts seem to have gotten it. Even the parts that were built after Merlin cast his spells over the castle! The new bits have inherited his protection!"

Zane was still shaking his head somberly. "You're still missing the most important part. We've been assuming that Merlin hadn't attacked you three because he was on your side or he was letting you figure things out for some reason. We'd assumed he was letting you go because he was essentially good. But we forgot the most interesting part of the deal Hadyn made with Merlin."

Rose suddenly gasped and covered her mouth. James' eyes widened, remembering. It had been right in front of him the whole time. Slytherin himself had said it, that night in his office a thousand years ago: you are unable to touch the hair of anyone residing within this castle, Slytherin had said, your threats are formidable, but fortunately, they are to no effect here.

"He can't hurt anyone inside the walls of the castle," James whispered. "It was the last part of Hadyn's deal, because Hadyn knew that Merlin would try to have his revenge on him. That's why Merlin had to wait until Hadyn was on a journey in his coach. Only then could Merlin attack him."

James looked at Rose. Her hand was still over her mouth and her face had entirely drained of color.

"May I be so bold as to suggest," Zane said, looking very meaningfully at both of them, "that none of you go on any journeys for the time being?"

James' first concern had been Ralph, who was indeed travelling over the holiday, staying with his dad at his flat in London. Zane assured them that he'd already been to see Ralph, warning him to keep his wand handy and try to never be alone.

"He wasn't very happy about it," Zane explained, "especially since his wand is a chunk of Merlin's staff. He thinks he won't be able to use it on Merlin if it comes down to it. He might be right too, but I didn't tell him that."

"But it's his wand now," Rose insisted. "He won it. It's his to use however he wishes."

Zane wasn't so certain. "This is old magic, Rose. It isn't like Ralph battled Merlin and won his wand. The staff was broken up, and Ralph only got a part of it. It still remembers when it was whole, and knows Merlin is still master of the rest of it. You might be right, but we can't assume what is true of a whole wand is true of a partial staff."

"Definitely don't tell Ralph that," James said. "He's nervous enough already, and he'll never know the truth unless it comes down to a fight. It'd be best if he truly believed his wand was his entirely. It might actually help make it true."

Zane nodded. "In the meantime, I'll check with Madame Delacroix about your voodoo doll. I'll try to get her to tell me what it can do. After all, she's the one that made it."

Rose asked, "You can talk to her?"

"Sure. She's right here on the grounds, on the psychiatric floor of the Poe Medical College. They keep her under lock and key, but she's allowed visitors. She's pretty dotty after that whole experience in the Grotto Keep, but I bet she remembers me. And a big chunk of log." Zane grinned a little wickedly.

"I doubt it will come to that again," Rose said, rolling her eyes. "But it might help loosen her tongue. After all, it was one of your presidents that said to speak softly and carry a big stick."

"Yeah," Zane agreed, "big sticks are a specialty of mine."

After that, Zane wished James and Rose a goodnight and Merry Christmas. He apparently had a Christmas party to go to himself, since it was quite a lot earlier where he was. He broke into a rather rude Christmas carol and vanished halfway through the chorus.

James and Rose said goodnight as well and went their separate ways, climbing the stairs to their dormitories. It occurred to James that he had the second-years' dormitory all to himself during the holiday, and it worried him a little. He reminded himself that if what Zane said was true, Merlin couldn't harm him inside the walls of Hogwarts. Still, the thought that Merlin might actually desire to harm James, as well as Rose and Ralph, was slightly terrifying. It was one thing to have a nebulous, generic enemy floating loose on the earth, but it was another thing entirely to have a specific enemy under the same roof as you, and to know that that enemy was one of the most powerful sorcerers ever. Fortunately, after the day's activities in the snow and the stresses of his conversations with Petra and his parents, James was exhausted enough not to care. Besides, James had a vague sense that Cedric was watching out for him. If Merlin came for James, Cedric would find a way to warn him first. Thinking that, James fell into a deep sleep.

He had the dream again, and it was clearer than ever. There was the flash and swish of blades and the rattle of old machinery. There was the flickering pool and the sad faces of the young man and woman. Worst of all, there was the keening voice of the dark shape in the shadows, constantly enticing, promising, instructing. A sense of deep sadness pervaded the dream, but under the sadness, like sharp knives under a soft blanket, there was anger. It was a cold, pulsing rage, broad as the sky and deep as the ocean. And finally, for the first time, James saw his companion, reflected in the rippling surface of the pool; a silhouette and a hint of a face. He still didn't know where the pool was or where this secret, hidden place was buried, but he finally had a sense of who this tormented person was. Long, raven hair hung past piercing eyes. The eyes were like coals: hard and cold, but concealing a fire that could burn anything and everything.

"You have cursed," the voice of the shadows said softly, evilly. "You have tested the waters, yes. But you must perform the ultimate rite to become truly worthy. You must make a sacrifice so great that there will be no turning back. You must take from those who took from you. It will be a hard and painful path, and only you can walk it, but it is the price of balance. You must be willing to tread that path for all those who will come after you. And for that sacrifice, they will honor your memory. They will sing of you. Your story will become legend. And through that legend, you will live forever, no matter what happens to your mortal form. Through your trials, justice will be achieved. Those you've lost will be returned. Their blood will be repaid in the only way that it can be: with more blood. It is your duty and your honor."

"It is my honor," the raven-haired figure answered in a cold, calm voice. A tear dripped from the figure's chin and struck the pool, where it steamed.

James slept on. And in the morning, he barely remembered the dream. But his phantom scar throbbed worryingly, and James wondered about it, knowing it meant something, but unable to quite work out what. He made his way down to breakfast, and by the time he entered the Great Hall, the pain in his forehead had gone entirely. Albus and Rose were seated at the Gryffindor table with Hugo and Petra, and all of them were engaged in raucous conversation. James joined them, smiling happily.

By the time breakfast was over, he'd completely forgotten the dream.