G. Lippert - James Potter and the Hall of the Elders' Crossing

"Did you come up with that all by yourself?" Ralph asked. James shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

Harry didn't say anything as they walked, but he put his arm around James' shoulder and kept it there the whole way back. James thought it meant his dad approved, even if it wasn't the way he himself would have done it. And then James realized, with some contentment, that his dad approved because it wasn't the way he'd have done it. James smiled and enjoyed that moment of quiet revelation. Maybe learning this truth--the sort of truth that one has to learn on his own, despite all the people who'd tried to teach it with mere words--was worth everything that had happened so far. He only hoped that it was worth more than what might still be to come.

19. S ecrets U nveiled

Harry joined James, Zane, and Ralph for a very late breakfast in the house-elf kitchens below the Great Hall. James noticed that the house-elf operating the enormous stove bellows was the grumpy house-elf who'd told the three boys they were on probation. He eyed them with unguarded suspicion, but didn't say anything. They crowded at a tiny table beneath an even tinier window and ate plates of kippers and toast and drank pumpkin juice and black tea. Finally, Harry suggested that the boys take a break and get cleaned up. They were still dressed in the clothes they had worn during the failed broomstick caper of the day before, and they were all decidedly grubby from their night in the forest. James was weary to the bone as well, and determined that he would collapse on his bed for at least ten minutes, school crisis or not.

On the way to the common room, James decided to take a detour to the hospital wing to collect his backpack. Philia Goyle and Murdock were no longer guarding the doors, of course, but James was surprised to see Hagrid crammed onto one of the benches nearby, flipping through a thick magazine called Beasts and Boondocks. He glanced up, closing the magazine.

"James, good to see yeh," he said warmly, apparently trying to keep his voice quiet. "Heard yeh was back safe and sound. Seen your father, then, I'd wager?"

"Yeah, just left him," James answered, peeking into the cracked doors of the hospital wing. "What are you doing here, Hagrid?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it? I'm keepin' watch, I am. Nobody in nor out 'less it's by permission o' the Headmistress. Needs his rest and 'cuperation, after all he's been through."

"Who?" James asked, suddenly interested. He peered more closely into the crack between the doors. There was a shape lying still on one of the beds, but James couldn't make out any features.

"Why, Professor Jackson, a'course!" Hagrid said, standing and joining James by the doors. He peeked over James' head with one beady black eye. "Haven't you heard? Showed up in the courtyard 'alf an hour ago, looking quite a fright," he whispered. "Caused no end o' commotion when the students out there caught sight of 'im. We brought 'im in here straight away and I was given the post of keepin' an eye on the doors while Madam Curio 'tended to 'im."

James looked up at Hagrid. "He's injured?"

"That's what we thought at first," Hagrid said, stepping back. "But Madam Curio says he's all right except for a few broken ribs, some burns on 'is arms, a nasty bruise on the skull and about a million cuts and scratches. He's been in a duel, she's says, and a long one, at that. Happened during the night, out in the forest. That's all we could get out of 'im before he conked out."

"A duel?" James repeated, knitting his brow. "But Delacroix broke his wand!"

"Did she?" Hagrid said, impressed. "Now, why'd she go and do a thing like that, then?"

"She was the one he was dueling against, Hagrid," James said tiredly. "He and she… look, I'll explain later. But I saw her break his wand in two pieces. I saw the bits. He left them behind."

"Weerrrll…," Hagrid said, resuming his seat and producing a long, pained groan from the bench. "He's American, y' know. They like to carry more'n one wand around. Comes from all that old Wild West lore and all. They sticks 'em in their boots and up their sleeves and hide 'em in their canes and such. Everybody knows that, don't they?"

James peered into the crack of the hospital doors again, but he still couldn't make anything of the shape on the mattress. "Sorry, Professor," he said quietly. "But I hope you gave her royal hell."

"What's that, James?" Hagrid said, glancing up.

"I just came for my backpack," James answered quickly. "I left it in there last night."

"I don't s'pose yeh might want to come back later for it, would yeh?" Hagrid asked earnestly. "Only I've got my orders, here. Nobody in nor out. The Headmistress thinks that whoever attacked Jackson might come looking for him. Can't rule out it was that crazy nutter pretending to be Merlin."

"It was Delacroix, Hagrid. But yeah. I can come back later. Good work."

Hagrid nodded, and then flopped his magazine open onto his lap again. James turned and headed back the way he'd come.

The Gryffindor common room was empty. The fire in the grate had burned down to red embers, but it had warmed up enough outside that it wasn't necessary anyway. In fact, as James headed up the stairs to the sleeping quarters, he felt a gust of cool, fresh air push past him. Someone had apparently left a window open upstairs. He was just wondering if he should shut it or not when he topped the landing and saw Merlin reclined comfortably on his bed.

"Here is my little counselor, after all," Merlin said, looking up and lowering James' Technomancy textbook.

James glanced at the open window next to his bed, then back to Merlin. "You," he said, his mind boggling slightly. "Did you…" He pointed uncertainly at the window.

"Did I fly in through it?" Merlin said, laying the book aside almost reverently. "Lofted upon the wings of my skyborne brethren? What do you think, James Potter?"

James closed his mouth, realizing that this was a kind of test. He pushed his first thoughts aside and looked around.

"No," he answered. "No, actually, I think you just opened the window because you like the air."

"I like the scents of the air, especially this time of year," the great wizard replied, looking toward the open window. "The essence of growth and life comes from the earth now, filling the sky. Even the nonmagicked feel it. They say that 'love' is in the air in springtime. It's close enough to the truth not to matter, but it isn't love of a man and a woman. It is the love of dirt for root, and leaf for sunlight, and yes, wing for air."

"But you wanted me to believe that you came in through the window, didn't you?" James said, feeling carefully emboldened.

Merlin smiled slightly and studied James. "Nine-tenths of magic happens in the mind, James Potter. The greatest trick of all is to know what your audience expects to see, and making sure they do."

James approached another bed and sat on it. "Is this what you came to talk about? Or are you here because you got my message?"

"I have been privy to many things since you last saw me," the wizard answered. "I have moved in and out, to and fro. I have conversed with many old friends, reacquainted myself with the earth and the beasts and the air. I have met very strange things in the forest, articles of this age, and learned much of the way the world is in this time. I have studied you yourself and your people."

James smiled slowly, realizing something. "You never left us! You vanished from the top of the tower, let us think you flew off with the birds, but you didn't go anywhere, did you? You just turned invisible!"