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

Zane's brow furrowed as he looked back and forth between the drawing of the observant servant and his painted equivalent, who was still skulking near the pillars in the background. "No, these aren't just sketches," he said, shaking his head slowly. "These are the originals, or so close it's impossible to tell the difference. Don't ask me how I know. I just know. Whoever sketched these drawings was either a master forger… or he was the actual artist."

Ralph thought about it for a moment, and then shook his head. "That doesn't even begin to make sense. These paintings were painted at lots of different times. No way one bloke was responsible for all of them. Besides, a lot of these paintings are old. Way older than this book."

"It makes perfect sense, " James said, clapping the potions book shut and looking down at the cover. "Whoever painted these didn't paint the whole paintings. Think about it: not a single one of these sketched characters is of a dominant person in any of the paintings. Every one of them is a drawing of some totally unimportant background character. Whoever drew these just added the characters into existing paintings."

Zane cinched up the corner of his mouth and furrowed his brow. "Why would anyone do that? It's like graffiti, but nobody would notice it except the guy who painted it. What's the fun in that?"

James was also thinking hard. He nodded slightly to himself, looking down at the old book in his hands again. "I think I have an idea," he said, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "We'll find out for sure. Tonight."

"Come on, Ralph!" James complained in a harsh whisper. "Quit tugging! You're yanking it up. You can see my feet!"

"I can't help it," Ralph moaned, crouching down as far as he could. "I know you said your dad and his mates used to do this all the time, but one of them was a girl, remember?"

"Yeah, and she didn't eat seven meals a day, either," Zane said.

The three of them shuffled down the darkened corridor, crammed under the Invisibility Cloak. They'd met at the base of the staircases, and apart from one tense moment when Steven Metzker, the Gryffindor prefect and brother of Noah, had passed them in the hall singing slightly off key, they had encountered no one. When they reached the intersection near the statue of the one-eyed witch, James directed them to stop. The three of them maneuvered clumsily into a corner and James opened the Marauder's Map.

"I don't see why all three of us need to do this anyway," Ralph complained. "I trust you two. You could've just told me about it tomorrow at breakfast."

"You seemed plenty excited about it when we planned this, Ralphinator," Zane whispered. "You can't lose your nerve now."

"It was daytime then. And I wasn't born with any nerve, just so you know."

"Shh," James hissed.

Zane bent over the map. "Is anyone coming?"

James shook his head. "No, looks safe. Filch is in his office downstairs. I don't know if he ever sleeps, but for now, at least, the coast is clear."

Ralph straightened up, pulling the Invisibility Cloak a foot off the floor. "Then why are we under this thing at all?"

"It's tradition," James said without looking up from the map.

"Besides," Zane added, "what good's having an Invisibility Cloak if we don't use it to float around the halls unseen every now and then?"

"There's nobody to see us, anyway," Ralph pointed out.

James directed them toward the right angle of the intersection and they shuffled on. Soon enough, they came to the gargoyle guarding the stairway to the Headmistress' office. James could tell it was watching their feet under the raised cloak even though it remained perfectly still. James hoped that the password hadn't changed since he'd accompanied Neville to the Headmistress' office a few months earlier.

He cleared his throat and said quietly, "Er, Gallowater?"

The gargoyle, which was relatively new, having replaced the one that had been damaged in the Battle of Hogwarts, stirred slightly, making a sound like a mausoleum door grating open. "Is that the one with the forest green field and the sky blue and red patterns?" it asked in a carefully measured voice. "I can never remember."

James conferred in harsh whispers with Ralph and Zane. "Forest green field? I don't even know what it is! It's just the word Neville used to get in!"

"How'd he answer the question, then?" Zane asked.

"It didn't ask him any questions!"

"It's a tartan pattern, I think," Ralph rasped. "My grandmum is mad about them. Just say yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm not sure. Say no, then! How should I know?"

James turned back to the gargoyle, which seemed to be staring fixedly at James' shoes. "Er, yeah, sure."

The gargoyle rolled its eyes. "Lucky guess." It straightened and stood aside, revealing the entry to the spiral staircase. The three boys shuffled toward it and clambered onto the lower steps. As soon as all three were on it, the staircase began to rise slowly, carrying them up with it. The hall outside the Headmistress' office lowered into view before them, and they stumbled into it, swearing and jostling each other under the cloak.

"That's it," Ralph said in an annoyed voice. He yanked at the cloak, struggling out from underneath it, and then let out a stifled shriek. James and Zane pulled the cloak off their heads and glanced around nervously, looking for whatever had startled Ralph. The ghost of Cedric Diggory was standing in front of them, smiling mischievously.

"You've really got to stop doing that," Ralph said breathlessly.

Sorry, Cedric said in his far-off voice. I was asked to be here.

"Who asked you?" James inquired, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. The hair on the back of his neck was still prickling. "How would anyone know we were coming here tonight?"

Cedric just smiled and then gestured toward the heavy door that led into the Headmistress' office. It was shut tight. How'd you plan to get past that?

James felt his face heat a little in embarrassment. "I forgot about that," he admitted. "Locked, is it?"

Cedric nodded. Don't worry about it. That's why I'm here, I guess. The ghost turned and walked effortlessly through the door. A moment later, the three boys heard the sounds of the lock being unbolted. The door swung open silently and Cedric grinned, welcoming them in. James entered first, and Zane and Ralph were surprised to see him turn immediately away from the Headmistress' massive desk. The room was extremely dim but for the reddish light of the banked fireplace. James lit his wand and held it up.

"Get that thing out of my face, Potter," a voice drawled quietly. "You'll wake the rest with it, and I suspect that this is meant to be a private conversation."

James lowered his wand again and glanced around at the rest of the portraits. All of them were sleeping in various poses, snoring gently. "Yeah, you're right," James agreed. "Sorry."

"So you deduced a version of the truth, I see," the portrait of Severus Snape said, his black eyes locked on James. "Tell me what you believe you know."

"It wasn't much of a deduction, really," James admitted, glancing at Ralph. "He figured it out. He's got the book."

Snape rolled his eyes. "That dratted book has been more trouble than it was ever worth. I should've destroyed it when I had the chance. Do continue."

James took a deep breath. "Well, I knew something was going on when I noticed all those characters in the paintings watching us. I also knew they all looked a little familiar, even though they were all really different. I don't think I'd have made the connection if Ralph hadn't shown me the drawings in the potions book, though. I knew the book had belonged to a Slytherin my dad had loads of respect for, so I thought of you and it all just came together. You painted all those characters into the paintings all over the school, and every one of them is a portrait of you, but in disguise. That's how you've been watching us. You spread yourself out through all those paintings. And since you are the original artist, nobody else can ever destroy the portraits. It was your way of assuring you could always keep an eye on things, even after death."