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

"What truth, James?" Albus said, angry and exasperated. "You do have them! You must! I didn't take them!"

"Of course you did! Don't lie to me! I can always tell!"

"Well, then maybe you don't know me like you think you do! Don't pin this on me, James. I'm not letting you make me into the bad guy just because you hate that I'm a Slytherin."

James spluttered. "What? That has nothing to do with it! I just don't want Mum to think—"

"It has everything to do with it!" Albus yelled, and his voice sounded oddly flat in the thick curtain of snow. The pitch was nearly empty now except for the two boys. "You were so worried about getting into Gryffindor so you could be like dear old Dad and Mum. You tried so hard that you wouldn't let yourself be you! Well, I'm being me, and only me. Albus Severus Potter, Slytherin. You can be jealous all you want, but don't try to ruin it for me! I've been warned that you'll try. But believe me, you'll be sorry if you do."

Albus turned and stalked away, disappearing quickly into the dense snow.

"Al, wait!" James called, starting to follow his brother. He stopped after a few steps. "Look, Al, that came out totally wrong. I don't know what to say to all that, but blimey, there's no reason we need to go to war, is there? We can't let something stupid like our houses come between us."

James could see that Albus had stopped. He was barely a grey shape in the silent snowfall. "You're the one making it a problem, James."

"Look," James said awkwardly, "forget it, all right? But honestly… you really didn't take the map and Cloak?"

Albus' grey shape stood silently, looking back at James. He seemed to shake his head, but James couldn't be sure. Then Albus said, "Are you going to go home for the holiday?"

James blinked. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Mum obviously thinks we talk more than we do," Albus said, as if in explanation. "She sent me a letter the day you got the Howler. The Burrow's been sold. The family is moving everything out over the holiday. It's the only time everybody is available to help. Makes for a pretty awful holiday, though. I told Mum I'm staying here. I don't want to see Granddad's world taken apart bit by bit."

James felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. "They sold the Burrow?"

The hazy silhouette of Albus seemed to nod this time. "Some old couple by the name of Templeton bought it. Not Muggles at least. They're going to tear it down and build a little summer cottage on the property. Mum says at least they're keeping the orchard."

There was a long silence between the two brothers. Finally, James said, "I didn't know. Mum didn't say anything to me."

"Like I said, she thought I'd tell you. And I just did. I'm not going home for that. Happy bloody Christmas, eh?"

James couldn't help chuckling a little hollowly. "Go talk to Tabitha, Al. We'll figure everything out later."

Without a word, Albus turned and vanished completely into the snow. James looked around. The grandstands were almost completely invisible. He seemed to stand in an island of snow-covered grass, surrounded by silently falling flakes. In the darkness, the curtain of snow looked more like ash. James brushed off his shoulders, sighed, and trudged off the pitch.

Rose was equally upset about the sale of the Burrow, but she seemed to reluctantly understand the necessity of it. Together, she and James determined they would also stay at Hogwarts over the holiday. She even managed to make it seem like it might be a fun adventure. She immediately wrote a short letter to her parents asking if it would be all right for her to stay over. James added a note to Rose's letter, asking Aunt Hermione to pass the word on to his mum and dad that he'd decided to stay over as well, as had Albus.

"They'll let us, of course," Rose nodded as she sealed the letter. "They know it'd be awful to see the place broken up over the holiday, especially since we've all spent so many happy Christmases there. Honestly, it'll probably be easier for them to manage if we aren't around anyway."

As a distraction, James returned his attention to the threat of the Gatekeeper and the mystery of Merlin's involvement. He reminded Ralph and Rose that they were to be looking for the two Beacon Stones. He knew they might be very difficult to trace, but as it turned out, the first half of the Beacon Stone was very easy to locate.

James, Ralph, and Rose were taking notes in the last Wizlit class before Christmas holiday when Merlin knocked peremptorily on the door, interrupting Professor Revalvier.

"Ah, Headmaster," Revalvier said, smiling. "We were just speaking of you, in a sense. You do tend to crop up from time to time in the books of the kings, although in a much exaggerated manner, I am sure."

Merlin approached the professor's desk. "Indeed. It is that very detail that I've come to discuss, briefly, if I may."

The Headmaster lowered his voice so that only Revalvier could hear him. The class sensed an unattended moment, and immediately fell to hushed conversations and shuffling of papers, preparing to dismiss for lunch.

Rose nudged James hard with her elbow. James looked over at her, irritated, and then saw her wide eyes and furtive glance. He followed her gesture. Merlin was standing very close to Professor Revalvier, whose smile had vanished. The Headmaster's hand hung at his side, very large and powerful-looking. He didn't have his staff with him, but that didn't mean anything. Merlin seemed able to produce it as necessary, as if he kept it in an invisible closet that followed him wherever he went.

"What?" James whispered, not seeing what Rose was hinting at. Then, with a start, he saw the black ring on Merlin's hand. It sparkled dully, as if it reflected light only reluctantly. He shouldn't have been surprised. He'd been there on the night a thousand years ago when Salazar Slytherin had presented the ring to Merlin. And yet seeing it now, glinting evilly on the sorcerer's finger, made it all too real. Up until now, he'd been able to half-convince himself that it had all been a sort of dream.

Revalvier nodded curtly, obviously unhappy with what Merlin had said to her. Merlin turned and left the room without sparing a glance at the class.

"It seems that there is to be a slight change in this holiday's reading assignment," Revalvier said, closing the book on her desk. "The Headmaster feels it would be more beneficial for us to skip the last century of the Dark Ages and proceed directly to the Renaissance. He may have a point. The Renaissance is, as its name implies, the golden age of wizarding literature. Thus, you may disregard the rest of the current chapter in your textbooks and omit Hrung Hrynddvane from your holiday reading assignment. Perhaps you'll choose to spend that time getting an early start on Waddeljav's Book of Nameless Tales. If so, do keep a written record of the actual story names since they will surely change by the time we reconvene."

As the class clambered toward the door, Rose pushed in between James and Ralph. "Did you see it?" she whispered.

"Yeah," Ralph replied. "I guess there's no doubt about Merlin and this Gatekeeper thing anymore, is there? Why do you suppose he doesn't want us reading Hrynddvane's chronicles?"

"It's obvious," James said in a low voice. "He knows there are things in there about him. He's trying to manage everybody's perceptions about the kind of wizard he is. Revalvier can tell us all she wants about how those histories are exaggerated into legends, but if people keep reading about how Merlin buried this army and flooded that camp and whatever else, there are bound to be people who start to question him. Like Ravenclaw said, he has a way of entrancing people who want to trust him. He needs to make sure everyone keeps wanting to think he's all noble and good."