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

"By the way," James said to the ghost of Cedric, once Ralph and Zane had fallen into an animated discussion about Merlin's Disapparition. "You said you were sent to help me. Who sent you?"

Cedric had stood and was fading a bit, but not much. He smiled at James and said, Someone I'm not supposed to mention, although I think you can probably guess. Someone who's been watching.

Snape, thought James. The portrait of Snape had sent Cedric to help him when he'd gotten sucked into the Threshold Marker. But how had he known? James thought about that for a long time after Zane and Ralph had headed back to their own rooms, long after the rest of the Gryffindors had climbed the stairs and plopped into their beds. No answer came that night, however, and eventually James slept.

For the next several days, the three boys went about their normal school activities in a sort of triumphant fog. James left Jackson's bag, with the relic robe inside, locked in his trunk and protected with Zane's Locking Spell. Considering the effectiveness of the Visum-ineptio charm on the fake case, they had no serious concerns that anyone would even be looking for the real briefcase. Jackson continued to carry the old red rock-hound bag with the Hiram & Blattwott's label on it to classes and meals, with no indication that he thought anything was out of the ordinary. Further, no one else spared it a second glance, even though Jackson had been seen carrying the black case with his name plate on the side for months. Finally, on Saturday afternoon, James, Ralph, and Zane met in the Gryffindor common room to discuss their next steps.

"There're really only two questions, now," Zane said, leaning over the table upon which they were ostensibly doing their homework. "Where is the Hall of Elder's Crossing? And where is the third relic, Merlin's staff?"

James nodded. "I've been thinking about that last one. The throne is under the guard of Madame Delacroix. The robe was under the guard of Professor Jackson. The third relic must be under the guard of the third conspirator. My guess is it's somebody else here on the grounds, an inside person. What if it's the Slytherin who used the name Austramaddux on Ralph's GameDeck? They'd have to be aware of the plot if they used that name, and if they are aware of it, they're in on it."

"But who?" Ralph asked. "I didn't see who took it. It was just gone. Besides, the staff of Merlin would be pretty hard to hide, wouldn't it? If he was as big as you said he was in your vision, James, then the thing must be six feet tall if it's an inch. How do you hide a six-foot magical lightning rod like that?"

James shook his head. "I haven't the foggiest. Still, it's up to you to keep a look out, Ralph. Like Ted said, you're our inside man."

Ralph slumped. Zane doodled on a piece of parchment. "So what about question one?" he said without looking up. "Where is the Hall of Elder's Crossing?"

James and Ralph exchanged blank looks. James said, "No clue, again. But I think there's a third question we need to think about, too."

"As if the first two weren't tricky enough," Ralph muttered.

Zane glanced up and James saw he was doodling the gate to the Grotto Keep. "What's the third question?"

"Why haven't they done it yet?" James whispered. "If they believe they have all three relics, why haven't they just gone on down to wherever this Hall of Elder's Crossing is and tried to call Merlin back from his thousand-year Disapparition?"

None of them had any answers, but they agreed it was an important question. Zane flipped his doodle over, revealing a drabble of scribbled notes and diagrams from Arithmancy class. "I'm checking the Ravenclaw library, but between homework, classes, Quidditch, debate and Constellations Club, I hardly have two minutes left to rub together."

Ralph dropped his quill on the table and leaned back, stretching. "How's that coming, anyway? You're the only one with any contact with Madame Delacroix. What's she like?"

"Like a gypsy mummy with a pulse," Zane replied. "She and Trelawney are supposed to be sharing Constellations Club, like Divination class, but they've started trading on and off instead of teaching it together. Works a lot better, since they sort of cancel each other out, anyway. Trelawney just has us sketch astrological symbols and look at the planets through the telescope to 'ascertain the moods and manners of the planetary brethren'." James, who knew Sybil Trelawney as a distant family friend, grinned at Zane's affectionate impression of her. Zane went on, "Delacroix, though, she has us plotting star charts and measuring the color of starlight wavelengths, working out the exact timing of some big astronomical event."

"Oh, yeah," James remembered. "The alignment of the planets. Petra and Ted told me about that. They're in Divination with her. Seems like the voodoo queen's really into that kind of stuff."

"She's the anti-Trelawney, that's for sure. With her, it's all math and calculations. We know the date it'll happen, but she wants us to factor out the exact timing right down to the minute. Pure busywork if you ask me. She's a little kooky about it."

"She's kooky in general, if you ask me," Ralph stated.

"I think she might be onto us," James said in a hushed voice. "I've seen her looking at me sometimes."

Zane raised his eyebrows and pointed at his eyes. "She's blind, if you remember. She's not looking at anything, mate."

"I know," James said, undeterred. "But I swear that she knows something. I think she has ways of seeing that don't have anything to do with her eyes."

"Let's not freak ourselves out," Ralph said quickly. "This is freaky enough already. She can't know anything. If she did, she'd act on it, right? So forget about her."

The next day, James and Ralph went to visit Hagrid in his cabin, ostensibly to inquire after Grawp and Prechka. Hagrid was rebuilding the wagon Prechka had accidentally destroyed and was glad of the break. He invited them in and served them tea and biscuits while he warmed himself by the fire, Trife lying over his feet and occasionally licking Hagrid's lowered hand.

"Oh, it's all ups and downs for them," Hagrid said, as if the tumults of giant courtship were a quaint mystery. "They fought fer a while over the holiday. Lovers' spat over an elk carcass. Grawpy wanted the head, but Prechka wanted to make the antlers into a bit o' jewelry."

Ralph took a break from blowing steam off his tea. "She wanted to make jewelry out of elk antlers?"

"Well, I say jewelry," Hagrid said, raising his huge palms. "It's a tricky concept. Giants use the same sound fer jewelry an' weapons. Comes to the same thing when yeh're twenty feet tall, I s'pose. Anyway, they worked that all out and now they're happy as can be again."

James asked, "Is she still living up in the foothills, Hagrid?"

"Sure she is," Hagrid said, a little reproachfully. "She's an hon'rable girl, is Prechka. And Grawp, why, he bides his time in his hovel most days. Got 'imself a right nice firepit and a lean-to of birches. These things take time. Giant love is… well, it's a delicate thing, don'cher know."

Ralph coughed a little on his tea.

"Hey, Hagrid," James said, changing the topic. "You've been around Hogwarts for a long time. You probably know lots of secret stuff about the school and the castle, don't you?"

Hagrid settled into his chair. "Well, sure. Nobody knows the grounds s'well as myself. Except maybe Argus Filch. I started out as a student, I did, a-ways back before even yer dad was born."

James knew he had to be very careful. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Tell me, Hagrid, if somebody had something really magical they wanted to hide in the castle somewhere…"