The Curse of the GateKeeper (James Potter #2) (35 page)

Rose erupted into applause. Ralph and a few others joined her, but they were quickly quelled by a warning look from Professor Curry.

"Very impassioned, I must say, Mr. Potter," Curry said appreciatively. "I'm not sure where you found your motivation, but I daresay it was quite effective. Ahem. You may take your seat. Next up, we have Miss Ashley Doone, second-year, Gryffindor, reading for the part of the Marsh Hag. Miss Doone, you have the stage."

Ashley approached the stage in character, hunched over and lurching. She reached the stage, paused, and then spun around, shrieking hoarsely and hooking her fingers into claws. James, seating himself rather triumphantly in the front row, had to suppress a grin.

"That was spectacular," Rose whispered into his ear. "I wouldn't have thought you had it in you!"

"You were the one who told me I should try out for the part," James whispered back.

"Yeah, well, I was just being polite," Rose admitted. "But I'm glad I did. That was really amazing. I had goosebumps."

Twenty minutes later, the assembly filed out of the Muggle Studies classroom. James followed Rose and Ralph into the corridor and stopped, his eyes wide.

"Don't act so surprised," Rose said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You were brilliant. You deserve the part."

"But I'm not an actor," James said, looking at her a bit wildly.

"It's a bit late to worry about that little detail," Ralph grinned.

Albus shouldered through the crowd and approached his brother. "Yeah, well, I didn't really want to be up on stage anyway," he said, spreading his arms. "Have fun making lovey eyes at Josephina."

"Don't remind me," Rose said emphatically. "I can't believe they chose her over Petra."

"I thought she did pretty well," Ralph commented, looking up at the ceiling.

"You think she looked pretty well, that's all," Rose replied, shaking her head. "I can see right through you, Ralph Deedle."

"That's not true," Ralph said defensively. "Well, I mean, it is true, but that's not why I think she deserves the part."

Tabitha stepped out of the classroom and spied Albus. She smiled and walked over toward the group. "Congratulations, James. Inspiring performance. It's good to see you and Albus aren't too competitive about such things."

"Get stuffed, Corsica," James said, turning away. "Don't try to act happy that we aren't at each other's throats."

Tabitha looked mournfully at James, but Albus' face darkened. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you, James? You act like Tabitha has it in for us. I'll bet you don't even know that she voted for you to get the part! And I agreed with her! So why don't you just back off a little, eh?"

James wheeled on his brother, but another voice called out before he could respond.

"Tabitha didn't vote for me, but I still got the part," Josephina said. She smiled at Tabitha from where she stood, surrounded by a gaggle of exulting Ravenclaw girls. "Score one for 'full frontal lobotomy', score zero for Tabitha's 'professional interpretation'."

The girls giggled as Josephina batted her eyes, and then turned to walk away. Tabitha seemed as unruffled as always, but she'd also forgotten about James. She swept into the throng without looking back, apparently following Josephina and her entourage. Albus threw a rankled look at James and stalked away as well.

"I'm going to go find Petra," Rose said, shaking her head in disgust. "She's sure to be disappointed about losing the part. I'll see the two of you in the gym after dinner. Don't forget."

"We won't," Ralph replied, annoyed.

"For the last half an hour, I'd completely forgotten about that dratted club meeting," James mourned, turning to follow the rest of the departing students toward dinner in the Great Hall.

"Don't worry about it," Ralph said happily. "What's a little Defence Club meeting to the great Treus, Conqueror of the Caspian Sea?"

J
ames sat with Graham and Hugo at dinner, letting most of the conversation drift over him as he concentrated on how best to manage the Defence Club meeting. Rose had eaten quickly and gone ahead to make sure the gym was ready for them, and Ralph was busy collecting the names of everyone who'd expressed interest in being involved. The list had grown rather long, and James' trepidation about the class had grown with it. Even though he was sharing responsibility for the class with Ralph and Rose, he couldn't help feeling that the club members would look to him as the symbolic leader of the troop. Finally, having barely eaten, James left the table. It wouldn't hurt for him to get to the gym a little early as well, and it would probably be comforting to be around Rose anyway. She seemed positively casual about the entire affair. James suspected that her Weasley heritage rather enjoyed the giddy uncertainty and potential for disaster.

As he left the Great Hall, James felt a nagging, anonymous worry. It was as if he was forgetting something important, but he couldn't identify what it might be. Even as he moved through the halls and corridors, there was a sense of anxious anticipation in the air. Students moved in groups, obviously engrossed in spirited conversation, awaiting the evening's events. James sighed nervously and turned the corner toward the gym.

"There you are," Rose said, as if she'd expected James hours ago. "The gym is almost ready. There are already people waiting outside in the hall. We just need to roll up the floor pads and wheel in one of the chalkboards."

"Why do we need a chalkboard?" James asked.

Rose gave him an impatient glance. "So we can write down the spells and hexes we practice. It'll be a lot easier for people to concentrate if they don't have to memorize the incantations on the spot. There's a chalkboard on casters over in the Charms classroom, next hall over. Go and wheel it in here and we'll be ready to get started."

Annoyed at being ordered around but glad of the distraction, James turned around and left the gym. Sure enough, students were gathering in the hall outside. They leaned against the wall and sat on the floor in loose groups, all of them looking up as James came out.

"We'll, er, start in just a few minutes," James said, trying to put some authority into his voice. Nearby, Cameron Creevey grinned and waved. A gaggle of first-years stood with him, their eyes wide and excited. James blinked at the gathering students. There was a good number of them, although not as many as he'd expected. He should have been relieved, but he wasn't. That nagging worry crept over him again. What was he forgetting?

James worked his way around to the next corridor, which was darker and completely deserted. He got to the Charms classroom and found it unlocked. The chalkboard stood on a wooden frame in the corner. Tiny metal wheels were attached to the bottom. James grabbed the end of the frame and began to pull, but the wheels were rusty. They squealed and dragged on the floor.

From the doorway, a voice asked, "Do you require some assistance, Mr. Potter?"

James spun as if he'd been caught doing something illegal. Merlin stood in the doorway, almost completely blocking it. His form was very shadowy in the dim room.

"I'm—" James began, surprised that he felt so nervous. After all, they had permission to hold the club meeting, didn't they? And yet he felt a strong reluctance to tell the Headmaster what he was doing. "I'm just trying to move the chalkboard. We, er, wanted to borrow it. To make some notes."

Merlin nodded inscrutably. "How are preparations for your defensive techniques club coming along, James?"

James' heart quickened. "Uh… good. Fine. We've been pretty busy, you know. But… good."

"Would you like some assistance with that?" Merlin asked in his low, rumbling voice. "I'd be happy to help you relocate it to wherever you wish. If anyone wondered what you were up to, I could vouch for your 'borrowing' it."

"No, thanks," James said quickly, letting go of the chalkboard. "Actually, we probably don't really need it. It was just an idea, but it's not worth the trouble. Really."

Merlin didn't move for a long moment. Finally, he seemed to relax and smile. "As you wish, James."

The big man turned to leave, and James felt a huge, strange sense of relief as Merlin's gaze left him. The club would just have to do without the chalkboard, James determined. He crossed the darkened classroom and was nearly to the door when Merlin turned back, his eyes glittering in the dark corridor.

"Honestly, I didn't expect you to be inside tonight, James," the big wizard said curiously.

James didn't quite know how to respond. "Er… no? Where did you expect me to be?"

"Tonight is rather an important night for many students. I understand that even those who do not intend to participate rather enjoy watching the proceedings. They like to get a sense of how the season might progress."

A sudden sinking sensation filled James. His cheeks went cold. "Oh no…," he said, widening his eyes. "It's tonight! That's why there were fewer people than I expected in the hall! It's already started!"

"Is it possible that you forgot?" Merlin said, a strange smile creeping over his face. "I assumed you were quite the fan of Quidditch. If you hurry, I expect you may still see the end of the try-outs."

James barely heard him. He turned on his heels and bolted along the corridor, cursing his forgetfulness. If he'd not been so obsessed with worrying about the stupid Defence Club, he'd have known that the first meeting conflicted with Quidditch try-outs. Neither Rose nor Ralph was trying out for the teams, so they wouldn't even have considered the conflict. James had been practicing all summer for the opportunity to be on the Gryffindor House team. He desperately wanted to make up for his devastating performance at last year's try-outs. Also, Albus was out there even now, trying out for the Slytherin team on Tabitha Corsica's cursed broomstick. James felt an obsessive impulse to be there when that happened, but he truthfully didn't know if it was because he wanted to protect Albus or sabotage him.

James pounded up the steps, calling out the password to the common room. The Fat Lady scolded him for broadcasting the password to the entire hall, but James barely heard her, shimmying through the portrait hole the moment the painting began to swing open. James grabbed his broom from beneath his bed, took the stairs two at a time down to the common room, and felt another stab of panic as he crossed the empty room. Everyone was already down at the pitch, cheering, watching the try-outs, supporting the team. James was supposed to be there!

The Fat Lady was still scolding James as he pushed through the portrait hole and flung himself down the stairs. How could he have forgotten? If he thought it was possible, he'd almost believe that Tabitha Corsica had somehow arranged for him to be absent, simply so he couldn't interfere with Albus' try-out. At the same time, a distant part of him worried that he was missing the first Defence Club meeting. Rose would probably realize where he'd gone as soon as she noticed his absence, but still, it would be a disappointment and a setback. Had Merlin appeared at that exact moment just to sabotage the first Defence Club meeting? After all, the Headmaster certainly had uncanny ways of knowing what was happening around the school. Merlin would know how important Quidditch was to James. Was it possible that he had bewitched James to forget the try-outs, just so he could strategically remind him at the last minute, thus keeping him from the club meeting?

Frustrated and annoyed, James burst out of the castle's main entrance and darted across the courtyard. As he turned toward the Quidditch pitch, he heard the maddening sound of cheers and whistles. It was nearly dark, but James could make out the shapes of the Quidditch players circling over the pitch, their cloaks snapping gaily in the wind. It was too late, but James couldn't bring himself to turn back. He cursed his luck again. How could he have forgotten Quidditch try-outs? He wouldn't have believed it was possible. What would he tell his mum and dad? How would he live it down with his housemates? Certainly, Scorpius Malfoy would make the most of it. I see, Potter, he'd say, you forgot the try-outs, did you? Strange. And we were all so looking forward to being amazed and impressed by your performance. Perhaps you'll remember next year.

The crowd was departing even as James arrived at the pitch. He found himself wading upstream through the throng, not really knowing what he was looking for but refusing to give up. He considered getting onto his broom and simply flying out over the pitch, but he was reluctant to draw too much attention to himself. He finally shouldered onto the grass of the pitch and spied the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, Devindar Das, collecting the house brooms.

"Dev!" James called, panting. "Tell me it isn't too late!"

Devindar stopped and looked back. "Where were you, James? It's all over. I was looking forward to seeing what you could do this year."

"I completely forgot… somehow…," James admitted desperately. "Let me go anyway! I'm ready!"

Devindar shook his head. "I can't, James. All the positions are filled already. Honestly, we had a pretty strong lineup going in. We'll need you more next year, once Hugo and Tara graduate."