G. Lippert - JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

"We could stop it," he said, reaching out to grasp Petra's arm. "We could stay here and stop it all. We could save Sirius and stop all the terrible things that happened afterward!"

"James," Petra said, pausing only for a moment, "you've been here before. It's the bargain of the Gatekeeper all over again. We can't change what's been done, no matter how much we might want to. History will find a way to happen, no matter what. Our destiny is elsewhere. Come."

Reluctantly, James agreed. The troop moved through the battle, unscathed and unseen, and stepped into the soft folds of the second portal. As he went, however, James couldn't help looking back. Sirius was taunting Bellatrix for her failure to strike him and she was raising her wand, her teeth bared in fury and black glee. And then, thankfully, the fabric of the curtain swooped around James and he felt that reality drop away behind him.

This time, when the curtain passed over the travelers, they moved into the noise and heat of an even larger battle. James recognized their surroundings immediately: it was Hogwarts, although not quite as he knew it. Witches and wizards crowded the hall, engaged in outright war. In the near distance, James saw Bellatrix Lestrange again, only this time she was dueling his own grandmother, Molly Weasley, her face nearly unrecognizable with grim ferocity. More faces became visible in the fracas: his long dead Uncle Fred, whom he knew only from pictures; Ted Lupin's mother, Tonks; even a much younger version of Oliver Wood, fiercely battling alongside Horace Slughorn. The floor vibrated beneath James' feet and enormous legs moved beyond the windows—a giant was just outside, its club rising to deliver a blow to the decimated castle. A snarling shape leaped over the crowd in a blur, landing directly beside James and flashing its bloody teeth. With a jolt of terror, James realized that it was the infamous Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf.

"None of it can harm us," Petra called out, approaching a third wafting curtain. "So long as you do not engage in what you see. Try not to look." James heard the reluctance in Petra's own voice, however. If not for Izzy's kidnapping, she herself might have stopped and joined the battle, regardless of the consequences.

The travelers stepped into the third curtain.

Screaming met them this time. It was a woman's voice and James saw her almost instantly. She stood before a wooden crib, clutching a baby to her chest, shielding the tiny shape with her hands and arms. At her feet lay a dark-haired man. He stared unseeingly up at the ceiling of the small room, dead, and James recognized himself in the man's features—it was his grandfather, of course, James Potter the First. A high, cold voice overwhelmed the woman's screams and James found himself walking directly in front of the figure of Tom Riddle, still young and bursting with malevolent strength.

"Make it easy on yourself, Lily," the Dark Lord instructed, raising his wand. "In a moment, there will be nothing left for you to live for anyway."

"Go!" James screamed out, pushing Petra toward the next curtain, which wafted in the doorway of the room's small closet. "Either stop him from killing her or go! Go! I don't want to see it!"

Lily Potter continued to scream and James fled through the curtain, tears of helplessness and rage blurring his vision. A flash of blinding green light followed him, briefly but memorably.

And then they were in a small dingy kitchen. A woman was seated at a rickety table across from a man James recognized: Lucius Malfoy, although much younger than James had last seen him. He was drawing a cloth-wrapped object from his robes, placing it onto the table next to his empty teacup.

"Unwrap it, Mrs. Agnellis," he said quietly. "It is for you."

She did, and it was a singularly ugly dagger, its blade tarnished nearly black, as if it had been rubbed with soot.

"No!" Petra moaned this time, pausing. "No, Mum! Don't do it! He's lying!"

James touched her shoulder, drawing her back. "It won't change anything," he urged softly, hating himself for doing so. "You were right before. It's all a trick. We have to save Izzy."

Petra nodded, but didn't take her eyes away from the woman at the table. James saw the resemblance between the two.

"It'll hurt only for a moment," Lucius said soothingly.

"Go on," Zane said, nudging Petra gently. "One more curtain. There's nothing we can do here and you don't want to watch."

Petra nodded again, but still she did not move. Finally, she shook herself. She glanced at Zane, Ralph, and James, even at the sad bundle of Lucy's body in Ralph's arms, and then sighed deeply. She turned, saw the billowing curtain in the corner of the kitchen, and walked toward it. Somehow, James knew that it was the last of the portals. They had passed through the Gauntlet. For better or worse, whatever was about to come, there would be no turning back.

When the final Nexus Curtain unfolded around them, the travelers were once again met with the noise of a crowd.

James blinked, his eyes dazzled with flashing lights and monstrous hulking structures. People pressed in on him from all sides, thronging and jostling. It took several seconds for James to realize where and when he was.

"New Amsterdam!" Zane called out, raising his voice over the noise. "Why are we here?"

"Is it the present day?" Ralph asked. " Our present day?"

Next to James, Petra swayed on her feet for a moment, as if disoriented. She clutched James' shoulder, and he covered her hand with his.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded uncertainly, and then seemed to recover herself.

"We are back to our own day and time," she said with grave confidence. "Morgan is here. We are both here together." Suddenly, she turned and led the group through the throng, angling toward bright lights ahead.

Ralph looked up at the looming skyscrapers and the rain of parade confetti. "But why are we here, in New Amsterdam?"

Petra stopped at the perimeter of the crowd, where the view opened onto a section of the closed-off city street. "Because this is where she wants us to be."

James jostled to get next to Petra and saw.

They stood on the edge of the Memorial Day parade route, which cut straight through the main thoroughfare of the great city. Flat wagons lined the avenue, covered in festive decorations and oversized tableaux, most decorated in red, white, and blue colours. The floats were stopped now, halted by a police helicopter which sat incongruously in the center of a wide intersection, its rotors revolving slowly. The parade crowd watched with avid interest as policemen in riot gear moved in an urgent circle, their weapons raised, surrounding two men. The men stood in the center of the street, flooded with spotlights, their arms held over their heads. James recognized both of them. One was Titus Hardcastle. The other was his father, Harry Potter.

"That's them!" a woman's voice called out, heard by the entire crowd. James glanced wildly toward the sound and saw Judith herself, pointing, her chin raised and her eyes bright. " They killed Senator Filmore! I saw it myself in that basement hideout right behind you! His body is there even now, next to their names, written in his own blood! Look! They're terrorists and murderers! Arrest them!"

Nearby, Morgan stood at the edge of the crowd, still cradling Izzy against her shoulder, as if the girl had fallen asleep while waiting for the parade.

The police approached Titus and Harry cautiously, hunkered low, their weapons raised. Near the helicopter, two men in black suits spoke urgently into a handheld radio and James recognized them as the men from the Magical Integration Bureau, Price and Esposito. Harry and Titus did not attempt to flee their captors or use spells to escape. There were far too many Muggle observers. Television cameras surrounded the parade route, installed on tall gantries, even now broadcasting the event live to the entire country. James marveled hatefully at the perfection of Judith's plan.