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

"All right," James admitted, "I know why you're saying that. But this is different. I'm really not just trying to be like Dad, all right? Maybe there isn't any way to bring back Merlin. But still, these Progressive Element types are up to no good. If we can prove that they're trying to start a war, we can at least shut them down, can't we? If we can do that, I think we should. Are you with me?"

Ralph grinned at James. "Of course. What's the fun of being a wizard if we aren't on a quest to save the world?"

James rolled his eyes. "Shut up and go to sleep, Ralphinator."

But James couldn't sleep, not for a long time. He thought and thought about everything he'd learned that night, the connections he and Ralph had made. It made too much sense. It had to be true. And as much as he trusted Luna, he couldn't quite accept that it would be impossible to bring Merlin into the world somehow. He'd been the greatest wizard ever, hadn't he? He was sure to have been capable of things that even the most powerful wizards since would find impossible. James felt a strong unwillingness to let it go. Still, part of him had been pricked by Ralph's suggestion that James was simply looking for a way to be a hero, like his dad. Not because he knew it wasn't true, but because he was afraid it might be. Finally, several hours after the house had fallen silent, feeling confused and exhausted, James drifted to sleep.

The day before the trip back to school, James was wandering the upper rooms of Grimmauld Place, bored and restless. The last of the guests had left the previous day, and Ralph had gone with Ted and Victoire to see Harry's offices at the Ministry. James had been there loads of times, but his primary reason for not accompanying them was that he wanted time to think. After half an hour of lying on his bed and scribbling meaningless notes and drawings on sheets of parchment, he'd given up and climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. The top floors were silent and sleepy, with motes of dust swimming lazily in the sunbeams that streamed through the frosted windows. All the beds were made, the trunks mostly packed. Everyone would be leaving Grimmauld Place in the next few days, reducing it once again to temporary emptiness. Even Kreacher had been induced to accompany the family back to the main house in Marble Arch for a couple of months. The age and quiet of the house seemed to fill the rooms, fog-like. James felt like a ghost.

He was passing the door to his parents' bedroom when he stopped. He took a step backwards and peered in. The curtains were thrown wide open and a hard beam of sunlight speared the air, laying a window-shaped spotlight on Harry Potter's trunk. James glanced toward the hall stairs to be sure no one was coming, and then tiptoed into the room. The trunk wasn't completely closed. It didn't even have a lock. James lifted the lid slowly, peering in. There, in the same place it was last time, was his dad's Invisibility Cloak. It was folded tightly, packed into a corner, almost covered by a pile of socks. James glanced again at the doorway, already feeling guilty. He shouldn't do it, of course. Absolutely not. When his dad found out, there'd be trouble. But then again, maybe his dad wouldn't notice. Harry Potter seemed to carry the legendary cloak with him merely by force of habit. James couldn't remember the last time his dad had actually used it. It seemed wrong, somehow, that such a useful treasure was not being put to use by someone. James reached in and touched it, then, without allowing himself to think about it, he pulled the cloak out. He was about to turn and flee back to his bedroom, when something else inside the trunk captured his eye. He caught his breath as he looked, barely allowing himself to believe what he was seeing. It had been packed beneath the Invisibility Cloak, only revealed when James pulled it out. Few people would even recognize what it was. At first glance, it was merely an old parchment, folded many times. Like a map. James considered it. What finally decided him was the thought of what Ted Lupin might say if he knew that James had turned down such a golden opportunity.

James grabbed the Marauder's Map, clutching it and the Invisibility Cloak to his chest, then carefully closed his dad's trunk. He ran down the steps and back into his bedroom. By the time he'd hidden his contraband in the bottom of his own trunk, he was feeling both excited and frightened in equal measures. There was sure to be a row when he was found out, and there was no question that he would be found out. Still, he knew that his dad wouldn't be able to deny that he himself would have done the same thing if he'd been in James' shoes. He was counting on that to temper things when the time came. Until then, he'd put both items to great use. He didn't know exactly how, yet, but there was no question that, with the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map in his possession, he felt much better equipped to tackle whatever adventures were sure to come.

The return trip to school was, like all post-holiday journeys, melancholy and quiet. Back at Hogwarts the next week, James and Ralph relayed to Zane everything Luna had told them and the connections they had subsequently made. James was gratified that Zane immediately grasped the implications.

"Maybe Madame Delacroix's put the Imperius Curse on Jackson?" he asked in a low tone as the three boys huddled around a table in the corner of the library.

"Yeah," Ralph agreed. "That'd make sense. She could just be using him as a tool."

James shook his head. "Dad says the Imperius Curse is pretty easy to cast, but it takes a lot of willpower to maintain it over a long period of time. The whole school year is a long time. Also, a strong enough wizard can learn to throw it off or resist it altogether. Jackson's too sharp to be an easy target for something like that."

Ralph shrugged, and then leaned in, lowering his voice as a group of students walked past. "Either way, I still think the whole thing's a wash. I mean, wizards have been trying to get Merlin back for centuries, haven't they? And the best wizards alive today believe that the whole thing is just a sort of fairy tale. Professor Franklyn said in D.A.D.A. that the best records show that Merlin ended up getting involved with something called 'the Lady of the Lake' who took his powers and imprisoned him. Could just be part of the legend, but still, supposedly he died around twelve hundred and was buried just like anyone else."

Zane, who was always prone to the morbid imagination, widened his eyes. "What if the plan is to bring him back as an Inferius? Maybe they're just going to raise his body like some kind of zombie or something!"

James rolled his eyes. "Inferi are just animated corpses. Nobody would say somebody had been brought back to life if they'd just been turned into an Inferius. It'd be the same thing as just grabbing Merlin's skull and working it like a puppet."

Zane held up his hand and mimed a mouth with his fingers, "Hey, dudes. I'm Merlin. I just flew back from the dead, and boy, are my arms tired?"

James stifled a laugh. "All right, so seriously, maybe the whole Merlin's return thing is just some crazy legend. Jackson and Delacroix and whoever they're working with in the Progressive Element believe in it, and as long as they do, they'll keep at it. Even if the plan to bring back Merlin doesn't work, they'll just figure something else out. If we can prove what they are trying to do, though…"

"We can at least shut them down," Ralph nodded. "Right? Discredit them with the wizarding world?"