G. Lippert - JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

It was almost like Petra had two different personalities. One was the Petra that he had known for the past couple of years, the happy girl and bright student. The other, however, Morgan, did eerily powerful magic without the aid of a wand and very well might have killed someone. James couldn't help wondering if, just perhaps, those two sides of Petra's personality were at war with each other. More importantly, which side, if any, was most influenced by that last haunting shred of Voldemort's lost soul? And how might it influence Petra's internal struggle?

James' worried thoughts were interrupted at that point as a figure emerged onto the brightly lit stage before them. The house lights went dim all around and the crowd fell gradually silent.

"Ladies and gentleman, students, faculty, and visiting friends from the magical community," the man said, smiling. He was tall and lean, with shiny black hair framing his ruddy face. "Welcome. My name is Professor John Sanuye, and I am the Head of the Flora Department here at Alma Aleron. I am pleased to say that we have procured one of the world's foremost experts on magical botany, a man whose fame precedes him, even among those who have not read his very interesting treatise on the thousand and one uses of common marsh ferns and mosses. Please welcome for tonight's discussion Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Sanuye applauded and beamed as Neville stood from his seat in the front row. Before climbing the stairs to the podium, he turned and smiled sheepishly back at the crowd. It was not a large theater, but James was quite surprised to see that it was very full, with students crammed into the back on folding chairs, and even standing in the entryway. They applauded, but there were very few smiles in the room.

Neville climbed the stairs and produced a small stack of notes from the pocket of his robes. He cleared his throat and peered out over the podium, smiling nervously. James felt a pang of discomfort for the professor. Neville was clearly terrified of speaking before such a large audience.

"Ahem," he said, clearing his throat again. "Thank you all for coming. I am, er, quite honored and, frankly, surprised by the turnout. In the country from which I come, herbology is not a subject that commands such, er, enthusiastic adherents."

A murmur of laughter rippled over the room, taking Neville by surprise. He blinked and smiled before going on. "I've, er, come tonight prepared to speak on some of the newer avenues of magical botanical research, which are, er, advancing our understanding of such studies as potionmaking, medicine, wand-creation, and even wizarding philosophy and ethics."

Neville grew more confident as he spoke and James found himself growing quickly bored. As much as he liked Professor Longbottom, he always found his classes exceedingly, almost painfully dull. Tonight's speech was no different except for the fact that James didn't need to pay attention for the sake of a grade. His thoughts began to wander, as did his eye. The rest of the audience watched Neville with varying degrees of alert interest, polite boredom, and, in a few cases, frowning concentration. In the front row, James was surprised to see his dad leaning aside and whispering to a man that James didn't know. The man smiled as Harry whispered to him, and then laughed silently, his eyes twinkling. Strangely enough, the two seemed to be very familiar with each other, as if they were long lost friends. James made a mental note to ask his father about the man later.

Eventually, Neville produced a series of photographs, which he temporarily enlarged with Engorgio spells. The photographs were magical of course, but since they were mostly of plants, they didn't move. The only interesting one was of a strange tree with long tentacle-like branches tipped with snapping jaws, rather like large Venus Flytraps. The tree, which Neville called a Moroccan Fanged Viperthwip, writhed and snapped its many jaws in the photo, commanding a gasp from some of the observers in the front rows. Near the end of the speech, Neville produced a small plant of his own, withdrawing it from his robes like a long green snake. The root-ball was tiny, about the size of a walnut, clutching a neat spoonful of earth. Neville set the plant onto the end of the podium, where it slowly righted itself and reached toward the lights overhead.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is my crowning achievement," Neville said proudly. "The mythical and elusive Bamboozle tree. According to legend, it is able to adopt the appearance and even the alchemical characteristics of virtually any plant to which it is exposed, disguising itself in avoidance of being weeded out. Allow me to illustrate."

Neville used his wand to levitate one of his many photos, and then gave it a flick, enlarging it.

"Devil's Snare," he said, nodding toward the photo. There was a slight rustling on the podium as the Bamboozle shifted. Its roots spread out and grew thick and brown while its few leaves multiplied and turned into snaking vines. Within moments, the Bamboozle had transfigured itself into the unmistakable shape of a small Devil's Snare, much like the one in the enlarged photograph. The crowd murmured with interest.

" Spynuswort ," Neville said proudly, flicking his wand again and producing another photograph, this one showing a tall, thin plant with reddish patterned leaves. The Bamboozle changed again. Its vines curled into balls and then budded leaves, perfectly replicating those shown in the photo.

"Larcenous Ligulous," Neville smiled, changing the photo once more. Now, the Bamboozle flattened and spread out, covering the top of the podium with writhing green creepers. The crowd muttered and stirred all around.

"And lest we forget," Neville said, removing a ring from his finger and holding it up to the light, "the most remarkable characteristic of the Bamboozle: its ability to emulate any chosen plant's characteristic tendencies and magical make-up. This, more than anything, is what makes it so potentially invaluable to the wizarding world."

The Bamboozle sensed the glitter of Neville's upheld ring. Slowly, it lifted a trio of creepers, which rose toward the ring, as if sniffing at it. They curled around it hungrily and pried it from Neville's hand, just as a Larcenous Ligulous plant would. The audience laughed and applauded lightly.

"If I were to snip a root sample from the Bamboozle in its current state and submit it to any herbological laboratory, it would take much testing to prove that it was not, in fact, a true Larcenous Ligulous. If we are able to successfully breed and propagate the Bamboozle, it may significantly improve the availability of some of the wizarding world's rarest and most essential botanical resources, and even allow us to recreate many that have ceased to exist entirely."

The crowd responded again, led by the very enthusiastic applause of Professor Sanuye in the front row. Harry clapped as well and whistled loudly. The man next to him joined in, cupping his hands to his mouth. "Go Neville!" he called, nodding encouragement.

"And that pretty much concludes my presentation," Neville said, smiling with obvious relief. He flicked his wand once more, shrinking the photos back to their normal size and catching them as they dropped out of the air. On the podium, the Bamboozle tree began to slowly revert to its original state. "Professor Sanuye has suggested that we open the floor to any comments or questions from the audience, which I am happy to do. So, does anyone have anything they'd like to ask about?"

James looked around, surprised to see a raft of hands suddenly shoot up all around. Neville seemed surprised as well. He blinked and took a half step back from the podium. With a shrug and a smile, he pointed to a hand in the front row. "You then. Speak up for us all to hear."