G. Lippert - James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper

"Hup, hup, students!" Kendrick Debellows cried heartily, pacing the length of the promenade overlooking the lake. "It's not even October yet! The water's still balmy. It's best if you jump in directly. Take it all on one shot and you'll be used to it in no time."

James stood between Ralph and Graham, his toes curled over the edge of the deck. The water below looked cold and murky. His face reflected back at him, his expression tense and worried.

"I don't know what's worse," Graham muttered through gritted teeth, "the idea of jumping into that water, or being seen wearing this idiotic outfit."

None of the students had packed swimwear, of course. Debellows, being rather insufferably persistent in his goals, had somehow located a closet of very old bathing suits once worn by an official Hogwarts water wrestling team. The one-piece suits extended to the elbows and knees and were striped in faded burgundy and grey. A Hogwarts crest was embroidered in the center of the chest.

"Who ever heard of 'water wrestling', anyway?" Ralph said.

"Oh, it was huge for a while, back in the old days," Graham replied. "The mermen had a team. You wouldn't think they'd be all that strong, looking at them, but I guess they were really wiry."

"Students wore these to wrestle mermen?" James said, glancing down at his oversized swimsuit.

"Yeah, but the mermen cheated sometimes," Graham explained. "The whole event was scrapped when the merman captain was found with a Grindylow hidden under his cape. He was apparently using it to batten on to his opponent and pull them down."

On the grass bordering the edge of the lake, the second-year girls were supposedly running reflex drills, waving pommel-tipped sticks at each other. Most of them seemed to have abandoned the activity, choosing instead to stand in groups and watch the boys, smirking or looking bored. Debellows ignored them.

"This is very simple, students," Debellows called. "Jump in, swim out to the buoy, circle it, and swim back to the promenade. It may look far-off, but I assure you it is quite manageable. I did it myself six times just this morning. Brisk, it was! Now, does anyone else not know how to swim?"

The boys stared grimly, none daring to raise their hands. A few minutes earlier, Ralph's friend Trenton Bloch had admitted he had not yet learned how to swim. This had seemed, to James, a potentially inspired way to get out of the dip into the gloomy lake. Rather than excusing Trenton, however, Debellows had produced a set of inflatable rubber arm floaties. To Trenton's horror, Debellows had blown up the floaties himself, and then rammed them up the boy's arms. Trenton stood miserably at the far end of the promenade, arms akimbo. A couple of girls on the bank snickered at him.

"This is a test of will, my friends!" Debellows barked. "In the Harriers, not only did we have to learn to swim at distance, but we were trained for water combat, facing all sorts of aquatic beasts, from Snarracudas to Shrieking Eels. You will not face any combat on this endeavor, but we may introduce a Marshweed course later in the spring if Professor Longbottom is able to produce a sufficiently tame hybrid. For now, consider this a pleasure swim. And now, on one… two…" Debellows raised his wand, pointing it skyward. He grinned happily. "Three!" he shouted, firing a loud crack from his wand.

The boys scuffled, slithered, and variously lowered themselves into the water. Their splashes were accompanied by a chorus of groans and complaints.

"Are there still mermen in here?" Ralph hissed through his teeth, lowering himself into the cold, black water.

James nodded. "But my dad says it's the mermaids you have to worry about."

"That's wonderful," Ralph gasped, dropping up to his chin and trying not to splash. Gamely, he threw himself into a jerky breaststroke, heading for the orange buoy some fifty yards away. James followed him.

Ralph was a surprisingly good swimmer. By the time James rounded the buoy, finally getting somewhat accustomed to the water, Ralph was climbing the ladder onto the promenade. Debellows grabbed his hand and hoisted him up, nodding approvingly.

James completed his lap and grabbed the slick, seaweed-covered ladder. He'd swallowed an accidental gulp of the lake water and it rolled nauseously in his belly as he pulled himself up. He stumbled onto the deck and joined Ralph and Graham. All three stood shivering, streaming water from their oversized swimsuits.

"Let's double-time it, Bloch!" Debellows boomed, cupping his hands to his mouth. "Pretend you've got a Slagbelly chasing you. It could be true, in fact! I hear they've been sighted on the far side of the lake. And I understand they're attracted to splashes."

"Professor Debellows," a voice called. James turned, his teeth chattering. Professor McGonagall stood at the castle end of the promenade. She glanced quickly around but kept her face neutral. "The students are expected to be in the amphitheater in fifteen minutes. You do recall that today's class is to be concluded early."

"We are very nearly finished, Madam," Debellows called, clapping Ralph on the shoulder. "I daresay we will beat you to the assembly if you don't hurry." He turned, addressing the boys on the deck. "You heard the professor! Gather your shoes and form a line. I'll dry you as you pass by, then we'll have ourselves a nice trot around to the amphitheater. You can change afterwards."

Debellows produced his wand and pointed it at James, who was nearest. A blast of hot air erupted from the tip, pushing James backwards a step. A moment later, he was mostly dry. His hair stuck straight up from his head like a corona.

"We have to wear these stupid swimsuits to the assembly?" James asked incredulously.

"They're perfectly decent, Mr. Potter," Debellows replied dismissively. "Even rather stylish, if you ask me. We haven't a moment to lose, students. The amphitheater can be found around the East Rampart. Let's prove ourselves exemplary and precede the rest of the classes there, shall we? Now run, my friends! And Mr. Bloch! Will you be finishing your lap this term, or shall I send Mr. Deedle in to retrieve you?"

By the time James got to the outside amphitheater entrance, he was sweaty and out of breath. Most of the other classes were already gathering, their voices ringing in the natural acoustics of the space. James grimaced, seeing the hundreds of robed figures milling about. It was nearly impossible to remain inconspicuous in the oversized, striped swimsuits. James and Ralph huddled near the back, trying unsuccessfully to hide behind each other. Scorpius was the first to notice them. He walked past with a group of first-year Gryffindors, smirking. Cameron saw James and made to grin and wave. His grin turned slightly puzzled when he saw James' attire.

"I see none of the second-year girls are wearing swimsuits," Rose commented, slipping in next to James. "Defence Against the Dark Arts, I assume?"

James nodded. "It's OK though. Debellows says these are actually quite stylish. Come on, let's find a seat."

James' last time in the amphitheater had been the previous term, on the night of the first all-school debate. That had been a fairly unpleasant occasion, in which Tabitha Corsica had proclaimed from the stage that Harry Potter was a fraud and a liar. An all-out riot had been barely prevented by a well-timed bit of absurd fireworks, produced by Ted Lupin and the Gremlins. Now, by daylight, the amphitheater was quite cheerful. The huge stage was mostly bare; as James looked, a couple of older Ravenclaw boys climbed up from the orchestra pit. They bowed deeply on the edge of the stage, and then began to make faces and blow raspberries at the crowd. There was some scattered applause and hooting until Professor McGonagall shooed them back to their seats.