G. Lippert - JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

James felt pinned to the chair. He pressed his lips together so tightly that they became a thin white line on his face. He nodded, once.

Wood sighed and leaned back in his chair again. "Chancellor Franklyn made his wishes quite clear, James. He is no longer only worried about the integrity of Bigfoot House, but of the entire school in general. He feels that you have broken the unspoken code of Apollo Mansion, and reversed the moral standard that we are meant to uphold for the sake of the rest of the campus."

"But—!" James began, only to be waved into silence again by Professor Wood.

"He did not tell me what to do, James," the professor went on. "He left the decision to me, and I've been thinking about it all day."

Wood stopped once more. He seemed to be studying James, his face very stern and solemn. Nearly thirty seconds went by. The disarmadillo snorted, stirred and got up. It waddled over to Wood, who petted it on its plated head, not taking his eyes from James.

"I've made my decision," the professor finally said quietly, emphatically. "You see, I am aware of the things people say about me around the campus. I am aware that they believe I don't have the heart to win anymore; that I left my passion for victory on the Quidditch pitch back in England. Maybe they are even partly right. After the Battle, it was hard to think about using magic that way again, even in a sporting match. And yet, I believe in the deeper mission of Bigfoot House. I am committed to it, no matter what. And thus, James, after my conversation with Chancellor Franklyn this morning, I have made my decision. I have decided to do… nothing."

James blinked. He shook his head slightly, as if to clear it, and then craned his head toward the man behind the big crooked desk. "Excuse me, sir?"

"I'm not going to do anything," Wood said simply, raising his eyebrows and turning his hands palm up over the desk. "I've been watching you lot myself, James. I've seen the exact same things that the Chancellor has, and yet I have interpreted them entirely differently. You have learned to play the game very well, all of you, and to strive for excellence, all without sacrificing your integrity or the dignity of your opponents. You have trained yourselves to become superior based solely on your skills and discipline. You have sought to be creative and intelligent on the Clutch course while still playing with honor. Now, you have succeeded in rallying nearly the whole school to your side—going so far even as to earn their entirely fair and legal assistance. Where Chancellor Franklyn sees potential debauchery, I happen to see a team that has played so well, and yet so fairly, that even those whom they have defeated wish to assist them on to further victory. If this in itself does not perfectly exemplify the sort of moral standard that Bigfoot House has always strove to maintain, then I daresay nothing does."

As Wood spoke, a grin of dawning realization grew onto James' face. Wood wasn't going to forbid them from using the new game magic. Wood almost seemed, in fact, to be encouraging them to go on exactly as planned.

"Really, Professor?" James asked, barely able to contain himself. He gripped the fat arms of his reclining chair, pulling himself upright.

"Really, James," Wood agreed, meeting James' smile. "Under one condition."

"What's that, sir?" James asked, somewhat warily.

"Chancellor Franklyn did not tell me what to do," Wood said seriously. "He merely shared his concerns, assuming I would comply. I am not. However, I am sharing those same concerns with you, and granting you the same responsibility. Whatever the other houses have offered Team Bigfoot by way of help, James, use it well. Use it with honor and integrity or do not use it at all. I could enforce this rule myself, as you know, but if I have learned anything myself over the course of this year, it is that a lesson learned on one's own is far more deeply rooted than a lesson forced by rules. Will you be wise with what you know? You and the team in general?"

James nodded. "I will, Professor," he said. "But Jazmine's the team captain. Shouldn't you be having this conversation with her as well?"

Wood smiled crookedly. "I already have," he agreed. "And she said the same thing that you did. I am content. Thank you, James. I'm sure you have preparations to make for tonight's big event. You are dismissed."

James grinned and nodded. Jumping up, he ran back toward the stairs, threading his way through the assembled couches, tables and mismatched floor lamps. Just as he began to tromp up the stairs, Wood called his name one more time.

"Yes sir?" James replied, stopping and peering back across the game room.

Wood was still smiling, but it was unlike any other smile James had ever seen on the man's face. It was wide, tight, and very slightly frightening.

"I haven't forgotten what it means to win, James," he said, his voice calm but emphatic in the empty room. "But I had forgotten how re ally excellent it feels. If Team Bigfoot is going to win the tournament tonight, then we have to give it absolutely everything we've got, and do it with as much heart, guts and pride as we can."

"Yes sir," James agreed, grinning eagerly. For the first time, he thought he was seeing Oliver Wood the way his father had seen him, back when he'd been the student captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, driven to excellence and hungry for victory.

Wood nodded and narrowed his eyes. "Go on, then," he said with restrained fervor. "And let's put those wolves in their place."

James ran the rest of the way up the stairs, his heart nearly bursting with excitement and delight.

It wasn't until later that afternoon, as he was gathering his Clutch gear from under the bed in his dormitory room, that it occurred to him that Chancellor Franklyn might have had ulterior reasons for talking to Wood about Team Bigfoot's playing style. Perhaps—just perhaps—Franklyn had learned the secret of Magnussen's riddle about the eyes of Roberts. Franklyn was, after all, incredibly smart. Perhaps he knew that if Apollo Mansion ever again sat upon Victory Hill, it would complete the cornerstone, potentially activating the Nexus Curtain. If so, he had probably done everything he could to assure that that would never happen, even going so far as to invent a ruse that would discourage any Bigfoot House President from leading his Clutch team to victory.

If that had been Franklyn's goal, then James had to give the man credit: it had very nearly worked.

If the President of Bigfoot House had been anyone other than Oliver Wood, it still might have.

Thinking this, James grabbed his wrist gauntlets, jersey and shoulder pads. A minute later, he met the rest of Team Bigfoot along with Ralph and Zane on the steps outside Apollo Mansion. Noisily, excitedly, accompanied by encouraging cheers from many along the way, the troop began to make their way across the campus, heading toward Pepperpock Down, and into Clutchcudgel history.

22. WOVEN DESTINIES

As the gathering neared Pepperpock Down, it accumulated a following of students from other houses, forming something like an escort. By the time they passed by Administration Hall, there were over a hundred people walking along with the Bigfoot Clutch team, shouting happily, cheering, waving banners, and tossing old Clutches overhead. James was nearly bursting with mingled excitement and apprehension. The encouragement of the other houses (all but Werewolf House, of course) was both exhilarating and a bit frightening since James knew that it would probably taper off quickly if Team Bigfoot did not immediately hold their own against the Werewolf juggernaut.