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

Despite his relief at his dad's response, however, James was sorely disappointed that the man had gotten away so easily. Somehow, he knew that Harry and Titus would not find any sign of the man or any clue of where he'd gone. Then, James would be right back where he'd started, with nothing but the glimpse of an unknown person on the Quidditch pitch to back up his story.

Thinking that, he finally caught up to Titus Hardcastle and the rest of the group. When he gave them his messages from Harry, Titus excused himself with a word and headed briskly down the stairs, his hand in the pocket he kept his wand in. McGonagall and the Ministry officials listened to James' explanation of the man he and Harry had seen on the field, the Headmistress with a look of stern attentiveness, Ms. Sacarhina and Mr. Recreant with looks of mild puzzlement.

"You say he had some sort of camera, dear boy?" Sacarhina asked mildly.

"Yeah, I've seen them before. It makes movies. He was filming the match."

Sacarhina looked at Recreant with a strange expression that James took for disbelief. He wasn't surprised, and he didn't really care. He was more concerned that McGonagall believe him. He was about to tell her the man was the same man that he'd accidently kicked through the window, but something about the expression on Sacarhina's face made him decide to wait until they were in private.

On the way down the steps again, flanked by McGonagall, the Ministry officials, and the Alma Alerons, James finally heard the score. It turned out that Ravenclaw had won the game. James felt annoyed and deflated, but he took some comfort in knowing that at least Zane was probably having a good evening.

When they reached the path leading back to the castle, Headmistress McGonagall sidestepped out of the line.

"Professors and guests, please feel free to return to the castle on your own. I prefer to attend to this situation in person," she said briskly and turned to cross the field. James darted to follow her. When he caught up with her, she glanced down at him.

"I suppose it would be pointless for me to tell you this is no business of a first-year student," she said, apparently choosing, against her better judgment, not to send James up to the castle. "The Auror in charge being your father, he'd probably ask for you to be there, no less. One wonders how he is able to keep his head on straight without Miss Granger to reel him in."

It took James a moment to realize 'Miss Granger' was Aunt Hermione, whose last name was now Weasley. He couldn't help smiling at the thought that the Headmistress still tended to think of his dad and aunt and uncle as troublesome, if generally likeable, little kids.

By the time they reached the head of the path that cut between the Slytherin and Hufflepuff grandstands, Harry and Titus Hardcastle were coming back from their cursory examination of the area.

McGonagall spoke first, "Any sign of the intruder?"

"Nothing so far," Hardcastle said gruffly. "Too dry for footprints and too dark to pick up his trail without a team or a dog."

"Madam Headmistress," Harry said, and James could tell his dad was still in Auror mode, "may we have your permission to conduct a broader search of the area? We'd require the help of a small crew of our choosing."

"You believe that this individual is a threat?" the Headmistress asked Harry before answering.

Harry spread his hands and shrugged. "There's no way of knowing without more information. But I do know that the man I saw was too old to be a student, nor did I recognize him as any of the faculty or staff. He was wearing a cloak from one of the ground crew as an attempt at disguise, so he was certainly hiding from someone, if not everyone. And James tells me he's seen this person on the grounds before."

Everyone looked at James. "He's the one I told you about the other morning, ma'am," James explained, addressing the Headmistress. "I'm sure of it. He had bandages on his arm and face. I think he got hurt when I knocked him through the window."

"I knew that would be an interesting story," Harry muttered, suppressing a smile.

"But certainly, Mr. Potter, Mr. Hardcastle," McGonagall said, looking at the adults, "you realize there is no conceivable way that anyone could overcome the protective perimeter of the school. Anyone you saw simply must have been permitted to be on the grounds, otherwise…"

"You're right, Minerva," Harry said. "But the individual I saw didn't act as if he believed he was permitted to be here. So the question is, if he's been allowed in, who gave the permission, and how? These are questions I'd very much like to ask, but our only hope of doing so rest on our beginning a search of the grounds immediately."

McGonagall met Harry's eyes, nodded reluctantly, then more certainly. "Of course. Who do you require?"

"I'd like Hagrid, for starters. No one knows these grounds like him, and of course, we'll want Trife. We'd like to split into three teams: Hagrid with Trife, myself leading a team into the Forbidden Forest, and Titus heading the other team around the perimeter of the lake. We'll need more sets of eyes to watch for sign. Too bad Neville is away tonight."

"We could summon him back," Hardcastle commented.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think that's necessary. We're looking for a single individual, possibly a Muggle. All we really need are a couple people who know how to spot a trail. How about Teddy Lupin and you, James?"

James tried not to look too pleased, but a thrill of pride went through him. He nodded at his dad with what he hoped looked like duty and confidence, instead of giddy excitement.

"Does the school keep any hippogriffs at the moment, Madam?" Titus rumbled. "A view from above is what's called for here. If the man's been on the grounds before, he must be camped out nearby."

"No, none at the moment, Mr. Hardcastle. We have Thestrals, of course."

Harry shook his head. "Too light. Thestrals can only carry one person, and none as heavy as Titus or myself. Hagrid would break one right in half."

James was thinking hard. "How high do you have to be?"

Hardcastle looked sideways at James. "Higher than man-height's really all that matters. High enough to get a bird's-eye view of the ground, but slow enough to be able to study it. You've an idea? Spill it, son."

"What about giants?" James said after a pause. He was worried it was a stupid idea. Mostly, he was afraid of losing the respect his dad had shown him by inviting him along on the search. "There's Grawp, who's tall as some trees, and his new lady friend. Hagrid says she's even bigger than your regular giant."

Hardcastle glanced at Harry, his expression unreadable. Harry looked considering. "How fast do you think Hagrid can get them here?" he asked, addressing the question to the Headmistress.

"That's certainly a question worth asking," she said, a little archly, "seeing as I had no idea we now had two giants living among us. I'll go and request their services from Hagrid personally." She turned to James. "Go and fetch Mr. Lupin, and tell no one what you are up to. Both of you meet your father at Hagrid's cottage with cloak and wand within fifteen minutes. I'll need to return to the castle to see to our guests."

"And James," Harry said, smiling that crooked smile, "now, you can run."

James was out of breath by the time he reached the common room. He found Ted still in his Quidditch jersey, moping with several other players in a corner alcove.