G. Lippert - JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

By the fourth quarter, however, James realized that Bigfoot team was trailing the Igors by a score of forty-six to twenty-nine. This was not because the Igors were better players, necessarily, but because of the very thing that Zane had warned about. Magic was allowed in the sport of Clutchcudgel and the Igors used it quite liberally. James saw them casting defensive spells, such as turbulence pits, Lanyard Charms, and gravity wells, and offensive spells, like inertia enhancers, speed hexes, and accuracy charms. The Bigfoots, on the other hand, used almost no magic whatsoever. James had his wand with him, encased in the leather sleeve sewn into the lining of his gauntlet, but he had no idea what to do with it, not knowing any of the spells he saw the Igors casting.

Finally, as the match neared its end, James grew desperate enough to perform one of the spells that he had learned during his earlier school years. As he circled the course, he noticed an Igor Bully preparing to cast a Lanyard Charm on Jazmine Jade, intending to use it to yank one of the Clutches out of her hands. James sped up, hunkered over his skrim, and swept his own wand from the sheath in his gauntlet.

" Expelliarmus!" he cried, aiming for the Igor boy's outstretched wand. Instantly, the wand sprang from the boy's fist and spun off into the misty night. The crowd responded with a shocked outburst and a whistle pierced the air nearby.

"Penalty!" Professor Sanuye called out, swooping in on his broom. "Team Bigfoot, nonapproved magic. Two minutes in the dock."

Shaking his head in confusion, James circled out of the course and flew toward the platform. Oliver Wood met him there, scowling.

"What was that all about?" the professor demanded as James hopped off his skrim.

"Magic!" James exclaimed angrily. "The other team is using it! Why aren't we?"

Wood grabbed James' skrim as it bobbed into the air. "We don't play that kind of match, James!" he said sternly. "We're a team of solid fundamentals and textbook formations. Nothing unsportsmanlike. We may not always win, but we walk away knowing we played a fair match. Besides, that was a dueling spell, not approved Clutchcudgel game magic! You're lucky you didn't get ejected from the match, and me along with you!"

"It was just a Disarming Spell," James fumed, turning away. "Besides, I might as well be ejected. The match will be over before my dock time is over."

Wood sighed, looking out over the match as it sped through its final moments. "I give you points for enthusiasm, James, but you'll need to learn some self-control. We Bigfoots pride ourselves on a clean game. If you can't abide by that, then no amount of flying skills will make up for it."

James simply looked aside at the professor, speechless. Less than a minute later, the final whistle blew and Sanuye raised his wand, summoning the Clutches. Bigfoot team had lost the match by a score of forty-eight to thirty. Both teams broke up and circled around, heading toward their respective gantry platforms while the crowd cheered and jeered amiably from the grandstands all around.

James stepped forward, took his skrim from Professor Wood, and without waiting for his teammates, began to tromp down the stairs to the locker room below.

"But magic is allowed in Clutchcudgel!" James exclaimed some hours later, sitting in the corner booth of the Kite and Key along with Ralph, Zane, and several of his fellow Bigfoot teammates. "What's Wood want to hobble us for by banning us from using something that's legal?"

" Expelliarmus spells aren't legal," Jazmine Jade grumped, her chin resting on her forearms.

"Yeah," Norrick agreed. "And we do use some magic. Wood used Impervius charms on our goggles, for one."

"We're allowed to use Gummy-Glove Charms when we're carrying the Clutch," Harold Gobbins added. "And Slipstream Hexes to keep our skrims steady on the course."

"Those hardly count at all," James insisted. "Team Igor was using serious spellwork out there tonight! Some of that stuff I've never even heard of!"

Jazmine sat up. "Makes sense. They have their own sport-magic coach whose job is to come up with all new Clutch spells. They have to get approved by the match official, but they pretty much always get a pass, so long as they don't hurt anyone."

"It's true," Zane said. "Team Zombie's magic coach came up with a new one last year that froze a player's skrim in midair. Granted, the player was probably going to fall off once his skrim jerked to a stop beneath him, but that wasn't the spell's fault. We got away with it until that playoff match where half of the players from both teams got into a pileup crash around a frozen skrim. It was hilarious!"

James narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "Hold on. You mean if I had just told Sanuye before the match that I wanted to use an Expelliarmus spell for defense, it would've been legal?"

Wentworth Paddington frowned and pushed his large glasses up on his nose. "The official Clutch commission doesn't like players using dueling spells during matches," he said with a sniff. "But there are ways to get around it. There's the Knuckler, for instance."

"Makes the opposing player's hand spasm and drop anything they're holding," Jazmine explained. "Works on wands, Clutches, whatever."

Zane nodded enthusiastically. "And don't forget the Bonefuse Hex. Works just like Petrificus Totalus , but only on selected areas of the body. Aim for the other guy's arm and he won't be able to do anything with it for five minutes, at least."

James was shaking his head in exasperation. "So basically there's a Clutch-approved version of any sort of spell, with new ones being created all the time. Is that it?"

Jazmine pressed her lips together and nodded. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

James flopped back in the booth seat. "So who's the Bigfoot magic coach, then? I want to have a word with him."

"Wood, I guess," Wentworth answered uncertainly. "Anyone want the rest of my Butterbeer? I can only drink half or else I get the hiccups all night long."

"Right here, Went," Gobbins announced, sitting up in his seat and reaching for the smaller boy's bottle. "I'll teach you how to put away a drink."

Wentworth looked offended. "I can put away a drink just fine. It's Butterbeer I can't take much of. I'm on a special diet, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," Norrick sighed, rolling his eyes. "We know all about it. Yeats hasn't cooked an onion in the mansion ever since you arrived. Makes liver night pretty pathetic. That's why everyone eats in the caf on Fridays, even the upper classes."

"I can't help it," Wentworth mumbled, crossing his arms. "Onions break me out in hives. Garlic's even worse. You don't have to rub it in."

"Maybe rubbing it in would cure you," Ralph suggested, raising his head. "Have you ever tried it? Rub some onions and garlic all over you, sort of like a vaccination!"

"Add a little butter and you got yourself a new Friday night dinner option," Zane nodded. "Grilled Pastington patties for all!"

"Hah hah," Wentworth said dourly. "It's a serious medical condition. You don't even know."

James finished his Butterbeer and stood up, announcing his intention to go have a talk with Wood about the team's woeful lack of a magic game. On his way toward the door, he saw Albus and Lucy seated at a nearby table, watching a group of older students play an incomprehensible table game called Wizard Foosball. Tiny ceramic men spun on metal rods embedded into the sides of the recessed table, operated by leather-wrapped handles. A small white ball bounced and clacked over the field encased in the table's walls, kicked by the spinning figures. As James passed the table, one of the players spun the rod violently and the ball popped up out of the table. James caught it deftly.