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Authors: George Norman Lippert

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BOOK: James Potter And The Morrigan Web
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Unlike James, Lily was in indomitably good spirits, babbling about the start of term and all of her new classes. Her natural exuberance had made her the centre of a small group of fellow first years, most of whom seemed to pay James very little attention at all as they crowded next to him on the hearth sofa.

“So we’ve got Herbology and Transfiguration Monday morning,” Lily proclaimed for the third time, consulting her class schedule. “Neville teaches Herbology. Of course, he’ll be
Professor
Longbottom now. He’s one of the best herbologists in the world. He got invited to the American Wizarding school to give a speech last year.”

“I was there, Lil,” James sighed, but she ignored him, grabbing her new best friend, Chance Jackson, by the arm.

“History of Magic is taught by a ghost!” she exclaimed, bouncing excitedly on the sofa. “Won’t that be interesting? I bet he lived through all
sorts
of adventures before he died, and was just too full of stories to pop off into the afterlife!”

James shook his head, stifling a grin. It was the first time he’d ever heard anyone accuse Professor Binns of being interesting, but he was loathe to ruin his sister’s enthusiasm with the terribly dull truth.

Eventually he extracted himself from the group and looked half-heartedly for someone to play Winkles and Augers with. Rose and Scorpius sat nearby on a pair of opposing armchairs. She was reading, of course, while Scorpius was folding a piece of parchment into a complicated hippogriff shape. Three of the paper sculptures already circled above his chair, chasing each other silently by the watery light of the nearby window. James drew a deep breath, considered walking over and joining them, and then shook his head. Instead, he turned and left the common room, heading nowhere in particular.

That evening, after dinner, he met Ralph and Albus in front of the sign-up parchments.

“So how’s Lily getting along?” Albus asked breezily.

“Like she was born there,” James sighed. “She’s got more perkiness than the rest of us combined. Everybody loves her.”

Albus clucked his tongue. “Pity she didn’t go to Slytherin. We would’ve added a little salt to that sugar. But what are you going to do?”

Ralph fingered a large quill. “Did you talk to Zane on the Shard?”

James shook his head. “No luck. He’s never in his room. We’re just going to have to wing it.”

“There’s hardly anything left,” Ralph replied unhappily, turning back to the parchment. “All the good classes are already filled. Clockwork Mechanics, Magi-American History, Potions, everything. All that’s left is Forbidden Practices and Cursology--”

“Not a chance,” James interrupted emphatically, approaching the parchment. “I’m not sitting under Professor Remora ever again if I can help it.”

“Mageography,” Ralph went on.

“That’s no better. Unless,” he stopped, raising his eyebrows consideringly. “Is Rose signed up for it? She’s the note-taker. She could make it bearable.”

Ralph shook his head. “No luck.”

“Forget it then,” James groused. “What else?”

“That’s it,” Albus piped in cheerfully. “You two shouldn’t have waited around for advice from your daft Zombie mate. I signed up straight away, first night. Wizard Home Economics.”

James glanced aside at his brother disbelievingly. “
You
signed up for Wiz Home Ec?”

Albus shrugged. “What can I say? I like old Mother Newt. She’s like a sort of evil version of Grandma Weasley.”

“There are some openings down there,” Ralph pointed as James shook his head. “They aren’t classes, exactly, but clubs and stuff. You think they count?”

“If it’s on the list I guess it counts,” James replied, leaning in and following Ralph’s pointing finger. Under the heading CLUBS AND TEAMS was a list of half a dozen extra-curricular activities. Between
Wizard Chess Aficionados
and
Professor Remora’s Book Club
, James noticed a listing called
Chancellor’s Experimental Communication & Transport.

“That one!” he brightened, grabbing the quill out of Ralph’s hand.

“Experimental Communication?” Ralph frowned. “Why that one?”

“If I’m right, it’s a Zane thing,” James said, scribbling his name on the appropriate line. “Remember all those crazy ways he kept popping up during our second year? That was him and Chancellor Franklyn and a few others. Some bloke named Rafael, I think. It’s a sort of club where they try out Franklyn’s newest magical inventions.”

“Sounds dodgy,” Ralph hesitated as James gave him back his quill. “You think it’s all safe?”

“Franklyn’s in charge,” James nodded, shrugging vaguely. “So, you know. Probably not. I don’t know. But it’s Zane. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

With a sigh of resignation, Ralph signed his own name to the parchment. “Well, that’s it. I guess we’re all set.”

Albus shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You’re both just as daft as Walker. But if you’re lucky maybe I’ll bring you back a muffin anyway.”

 

James had no luck reaching Zane via the Shard the next morning, either. The Alma Aleron dormitory, as seen in the chunk of mirror, showed only an empty room, marginally neater than before, and awash with golden mid-day sunbeams via the open window. A fat spider sunned itself on the windowsill, overlooking a corner of the campus and the limbs of a nearby chestnut tree, weighted with leaves and shushing in a light breeze.

Annoyed, James wrapped the Shard again and stuffed it into his trunk. The morning sky outside his own dormitory window was still steely grey and heavy with storm clouds, although the actual rain seemed to have stopped during the night. A stiff wind shook the tower, rattling the window glass and creaking the conical roof far overhead.

“Care of Magical Creatures, first thing,” Graham said with mock enthusiasm, glancing toward the window on his way to a late breakfast. “That should be a treat.”

“At least we get to see Hagrid again,” James commented, following Graham down the stairs.

“Yeah, bully for us,” Graham groaned. “No better way to start your morning than getting stung, burnt or trampled. And wet at the same time? Pinch me, I’m still dreaming.”

James shouldered his knapsack as they stepped through the portrait hole. “I was only gone a year, Graham,” he commented, “I don’t know how I managed to forget what a happy little sunbeam you are.”

By the time they reached the Great Hall, James barely had time for a quick slice of toast before heading to his first class. Rose angled to join him as they left the castle, striking out across the squelching grounds toward the great stone barn where Hagrid housed his menagerie.

“Are you still angry?” she asked in a small voice.

James didn’t answer immediately. They tramped over the hill overlooking the lake. Stacks of heavy clouds lay upside down on the lake’s surface, reflecting the sky above. Wind ripped across the wet grounds, chasing undulations over the grass.

“I’m not mad,” James admitted grudgingly. “I’m just… disappointed.”

“I really am sorry, James,” Rose insisted, glancing aside at him. “It isn’t that I don’t believe you. I do! It’s just… it’s hard to be caught between the way everyone else sees things and trusting what you say really happened.”

“I don’t see what’s so hard about it,” James said darkly.

Rose’s voice lowered and hardened a bit. “It isn’t just the Lady of the Lake, James. I trusted you. We all did. I know you did your best, and I believe you, but whether you like it or not, you were warned. Not only by Scorpius, but by me, too. I told you it was really dangerous, breaking through the Nexus Curtain. I could’ve told on you, you know. I could have stopped it all, but I didn’t. I let it happen. Because I trusted you.”

“Believe me, Rose,” James said, stopping his cousin as they came into the shadow of the great stone barn. “You couldn’t have changed what happened that night. Even Merlin couldn’t stop it, and I promise you, he really tried. If we hadn’t followed the Lady of the Lake, she and Morgan would have succeeded in killing my dad and Titus. Petra had no choice. There was no stopping what she did.”

“I’m not talking about
that
,” Rose said impatiently, glancing up at James, and then looking away again. “I don’t care about what happened afterwards.”

James blinked at her. “Then what…?”

“Lucy,” Rose said, locking her eyes onto James’ again, unblinking. “I keep thinking that if I had stopped you, Lucy would still be alive. Not just for me, but for Aunt Audrey and Uncle Percy. They worked so hard to adopt her, and they haven’t been the same since they lost her. And poor Molly! Lucy was the only sister she’ll ever have. And I think, if only I had been there somehow, if only I had done something, maybe I could have saved her. And… and…”

She looked away again, refusing to continue.

“You think it’s my fault she died.” James said quietly.

Rose’s eyes glimmered with sudden tears. She swiped at them.

“I don’t
want
to…” she whispered, refusing to look at him. “I keep telling myself… you couldn’t have done anything. She was your cousin, too. I… I defend you in my thoughts. But…” she finally looked at him again, and there was something like a defiant plea in her eyes. “It’s hard work. I’m sorry, James. I really, really am. I don’t want it to be like this.”

James suddenly didn’t care about the cold wind, or his already soaked shoes, or whether they would be late for their first class. He realized how petty he had been to feel anger toward Rose. A deep sense of emptiness descended on him, weighed him down and drained the colour from the world. He felt that he could just sit down right there on the wet grass and never move again.

“If it helps, Rose,” he said in a flat voice, “I don’t blame you for thinking that. I feel the same way. I’ve been thinking about it all summer, replaying it, seeing all the ways that I could have responded differently. I’ve saved Lucy in my mind… in my dreams… about a million times. But when I wake up…” He shook his head helplessly and spread his hands, framing emptiness.

Rose studied his face intently, tears still standing in her eyes.

Hagrid was approaching, his voice booming over the gusting wind as he led a small group toward the barn. James barely heard them.

“It does help, James,” Rose said, nodding once. “Perhaps that makes me a horrible person, but I can’t change it. It helps to know you’ve thought about it, struggled with it.” She paused, and then, very quietly, she added, “She fancied you. She knew it was silly, but she couldn’t help it. Did you know that?”

James bowed his head weakly.

Rose put her arm through his, supporting him. Together, they rounded the corner of the barn and joined the gathering near its great open doors.

Two summers
, he thought to himself, not hearing Hagrid greet the class, not even aware of the small gathering of gawking, unfamiliar faces that accompanied him.
Two summers… and two funerals. It’s too much. I don’t want anymore
.

Dimly, he became aware of what was happening as the newcomers filtered into the class, mingling awkwardly. One of them, a heavy boy with thick ginger hair and a mass of freckles, shouldered in next to James. He caught James’ eye and stuck out his hand.

“Morton Comstock,” he announced briskly. “Yorke Academy.”

James shook the boy’s hand automatically. “James,” he muttered.

“So this is what they’ve been telling us about, eh?” Morton nodded, glancing around. “Doesn’t seem like all that much of a thing to me. Where are all the monsters and stuff?”

James saw Rose look sidelong at the heavy boy. “They aren’t just roaming around free, you know,” she answered stiffly. “Most of them aren’t exactly tame.”

“Despite what our oaf of a teacher thinks,” Trenton Bloch muttered pointedly.

James looked back over his shoulder. Trenton stood at the back of the group, alongside Ralph. Ralph shrugged and rolled his eyes.

“Right, then!” Hagrid called happily, clapping his huge, meaty hands. “Into th’ barn with yeh. We’ve got lots ter cover in a short time, what with getting our new friends up ter speed. We’ll start with th’ Harbinger classes and work through th’ Triminaries. If yer lucky,” he added with a wink, looking over the students, “We may get a peek at my newest addition, a genuine pimpleback bog slug. Big as a pig if it’s an inch!”

“Slugs,” Morton scoffed under his breath as the group crowded into the warmth of the barn. “Yeah, this is going to be way scary. ‘See amazing creatures of myth and legend’ they said. Whatever. I should have stayed home and played Realm of Runescape. At least there the monsters aren’t bloody slugs.”

“You may want to watch your mouth, Muggle,” Trenton Block murmured threateningly. “Here, the spells do more than make pretty lights on a telly screen.”

“But you can’t use them on us,” Morton replied smugly. “We may have signed agreements not to tell anyone else what we see here--
for the time being
-- but that won’t stop the authorities from closing this place down like a bad restaurant if you so much as point one of those little sticks of yours the wrong way. Just try it.”

“Oh dear me,” a familiar voice drawled from the rear of the class. James looked back to see Scorpius shaking his head sardonically. “I can tell already that this is going to be a simply
delightful
term.”

BOOK: James Potter And The Morrigan Web
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