G. Lippert - JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

James wanted to ask more, but Franklyn's expression made it clear that he was done discussing the topic. The three boys thanked the Chancellor and excused themselves as quickly as possible.

"Well," Ralph said once they had exited Administration Hall, "that was pretty much a bust."

James pulled his cloak around him as the wind picked up. "At least we found out that Magnussen really did open up the Nexus Curtain," he replied. "That means that there might be something to Zane's theory. Maybe whoever really did steal the crimson thread used it to open the Curtain again, and is still hiding out there, in the World Between the Worlds. If we can figure out how Magnussen got through, then maybe we can do it as well."

Zane feigned surprise as he said, "I thought we were just going to turn this all over to the great Harry Potter and his squad of Auror superdudes?"

"Shut up, already, why don't you?" James grumbled crossly. "Dad's got enough on his hands. There's no harm in us following a few leads, is there? It'll save him some time. Besides, we're already right here on campus. We can do all the footwork more easily than he can. I just wish Franklyn hadn't been so tight-lipped about everything. He gave us almost nothing to go on."

Zane sighed expansively and stopped walking. A moment later, Ralph and James stopped as well and turned to look back at him.

"Maybe," the blonde boy said with a crooked smile, "we can try it my way now?"

James was quite curious as to what Zane's way actually was, but as it turned out, the next few days were too busy for the boys to attempt anything at all.

On Friday evening, James joined Zane, Albus, Lucy, and Ralph at Pepperpock Down for the Vampires versus Werewolves Clutchcudgel match. Albus rooted ardently for his own team while Lucy led spirited cheers and waved a red and black banner in her gloved hands. James, Ralph, and Zane, however, liking neither team, cheered only when there were penalties or injuries, earning quite a few disapproving looks from those in the grandstands around them. In the end, Werewolf House defeated the Vampires by a score of eighty-eight to sixty-five, leaving Lucy in a grumpy mood that lasted well into her second licorice soda at the Kite and Key.

James spent most of Saturday afternoon in the attic of Hermes House, accompanied by Zane, in search of a costume for that evening's Halloween Ball. Together, they settled on a mummy costume comprised mostly of shreds of old sheets, which had, for some forgotten reason, been tiedyed into rainbow colours.

"We'll call you the Saturday Night Fever," Zane proclaimed happily, examining James in his costume. "The Disco Mummy! You'll be a total hit. Frankly, I'm a little jealous."

Having failed disastrously in his attempt to make Petra his date to the Ball, James sought out and asked Lucy to go with him, figuring that they could have more fun together than apart. She agreed instantly and with rather more enthusiasm than James had expected. When he arrived at Erebus Mansion that evening to escort her to the ball, she came down the main staircase dressed as a vampire princess, resplendent in a rather striking black dress, boots, and a vial of blood worn on a black ribbon around her neck.

"It's not real blood," she smiled sheepishly, showing her canine teeth, which had been hexed into long points for the evening. "It's just poisonberry juice, so I really can drink it if I want to. I borrowed the boots from Professor Remora. Can you believe her feet are nearly as small as mine?"

James told her that he couldn't and that he frankly preferred to think of Professor Remora's feet as absolutely little as possible. Along the way to Administration Hall, they met Ralph, who was dressed as a ghost with a rather sadly moth-eaten sheet over his head. Together, the three made their way down to the cafeteria for drinks and then up to the main ballroom, where the band, Rig Mortis and the Stifftones, was already well into their first set.

It turned out to be a delightfully raucous evening. The music was very loud and after a few failed attempts, Lucy finally coaxed James into joining her on the dance floor. Zane was already there, gyrating and bouncing wildly, dressed, of course, as a zombie. He'd painted his face green, added some stitches with black magic marker, and donned a moldy, ill-fitting, powder blue tuxedo. Across from him, Cheshire Chatterly looked rather fetching as his zombie prom date, complete with a blood-stained pink taffeta dress and every inch of exposed skin charmed a deathly, blotchy blue.

"Some party, eh?" Zane called as he shimmied past.

"It is!" James called back, grinning. In front of him, Lucy danced happily, looking surprisingly beautiful with her hair done up in a complicated beehive. He told her as much as the lights flashed and twirled all around. Even in the flickering dimness, he saw the blush rise to her pale cheeks and she smiled at him, obviously pleased.

It wasn't until the following Wednesday afternoon that Zane finally gathered James and Ralph and told them to get ready for a little 'fact-finding mission' once classes were over for the day. By five o'clock, all three boys met at Apollo Mansion for a quick dinner.

The meal was prepared by the house steward, a bald, hunched, painfully thin wizard whose demeanor usually hovered somewhere between veiled crankiness and outright hostility. Known only as Yeats, the steward had apparently been a fixture in Apollo Mansion for nearly seventy years and didn't seem to have any intention of retiring, ever. He was so old that he appeared to be in need of a good dusting, but he moved with a sort of grim economy that implied that if ever the need arose, he could probably tackle any single member of Bigfoot House with one of his large knuckly hands while flipping crepes with the other.

"I hope this is to the young sir's liking," he said through gritted teeth as he pushed their plates in front of them. "Cheeseburgers and homemade potato chips. The cornerstone of any nutritious dinner."

"Thanks, Yeats," Ralph said, digging in.

"What is it about that guy?" Zane asked quietly as Yeats retreated slowly to the stove. "Every time we ask him for something, I get the impression that he's barely restraining himself from hexing us into salt and pepper shakers."

James shrugged and munched a potato chip. They were still hot and sprinkled with some kind of crumbly blue cheese. "Yeats is all right," he said. "Reminds me of home. He's like a grownup human version of Kreacher."

"He is!" Ralph nodded, his mouth full. "I knew he seemed familiar. You're right. He does remind me of good old number twelve Grimmauld Place."

Twenty minutes later, the three boys made their way out into the darkening evening, Zane in the lead. James noticed that they were heading toward the Hall of Archives.

"Just doing a little research, fellas," Zane said to the Werewolf students who were still serving as guards around the Archive steps. "Or do we need a permission slip signed in triplicate from the Chancellor himself?"

"Just make it quick, Walker," one of the Werewolf boys sneered. "The Hall gets locked up at eight on the dot, whether you're out of there or not."

"Hey," Zane grinned as he trotted up the steps toward the huge doors, "that rhymed! You've been practicing that one, haven't you? You Werewolves are so stinkin' clever."

"Smile while you can, Walker," another of the boys called. "We'll see if you're still grinning this Friday night after your team meets ours on the Clutch course."

"Well, that didn't rhyme at all," Zane admonished. "Back to the doghouse with you."

The Werewolf boys bristled, but they were apparently too committed to their guard duties to abandon their posts. James and Ralph sidled up the steps behind Zane, avoiding eye contact with the older boys on either side.