James Potter And The Morrigan Web (25 page)

“Six of us,” Franklyn said, leaning over the table and squinting, “And six pairs of the charmed devices. How fortuitous. Everyone, please collect exactly one pair each, but
do not
put any of them on your fingers yet. Professor Jackson and Mr Hernandez, in the office beyond this room, will be recording everything from this moment onward for the Archive.”

James peered at the table and its collection of gleaming rings. Zane snatched up a pair and bounced them on the palm of his hand. Carefully, Rose reached for a pair herself. James, Ralph and Scorpius followed suit.

“Excellent,” Franklyn nodded, taking the last pair. “You will notice that each pair of rings contains two slight variations in colour. One ring will have a golden hue, the other a distinct green. These colours are important, as they determine which ring is outgoing, and which is incoming. Assure that you can easily tell the difference.”

James looked down at the rings in his hand. They were strangely heavy and cold to the touch, noticeably glowing more than the meager candlelight could account for. One ring did indeed have a pale golden sheen, while the other reflected a greenish tint.

Franklyn went on, “The best practice seems to be to place the rings in different pockets. Golden on the left for outgoing, green on the right for the return trip. Operation of the rings is simplicity itself: simply place it on your finger. The technomancy is rather complex, but the effect seems to be instantaneous. Once you arrive at your destination, return is facilitated by simply switching the rings. Does everyone understand?”

Rose examined the rings in her hand studiously. “Didn’t I read about something like this once?” she asked suspiciously. “Something from a children’s book?”

Franklyn nodded a bit stiffly. “Yes, well… the magical ring is rather a popular concept in fiction, of course. There can hardly be only a single example--”

“Yeah!” James proclaimed with a smile. “My Mum read them to me! The rings were yellow and green, just like this! And there was this boy and a girl who used them to travel between worlds! And then there was this tree that got turned into a magical wardrobe when it was all over, and--”

“Yes, yes, fine, thank you!” Franklyn interrupted impatiently. “Feel free to call it an homage if you like. Good magic is wherever you find it. Now then, are there any questions about the
actual operation
of the rings, if you please?”

Ralph raised his hand nervously. “Er. What… what happens if we accidently put both rings on at once?”

Both Franklyn and Zane turned and looked hard at Ralph, blinking. After a long moment, Franklyn cleared his throat. “Let us… er, simply assume that that would be a rather disastrous error. Thank you for bringing it up, Mr. Deedle. All of you: under no circumstance should you attempt to wear both rings at once. Are we clear?”

There were hearty nods all around.

“Yes,” Franklyn nodded, “Well then. For safety’s sake, this particular experimental set of rings will merely take us to the north end of the campus. I attempted this myself some hours ago with apparent success. This time we shall hopefully prove that the results can be duplicated, and in numbers. Is everyone prepared? Excellent. On the count of three, then.”

Franklyn retrieved the golden ring from his left waistcoat pocket, held it up in his left hand and extended his right ring finger before it. Quickly, everyone else did the same.

“One,” Franklyn said stiffly.

“Two” Zane and Franklyn said together. James saw that Zane was grinning eagerly, glancing around at the nervous faces of his friends.

“Three!”

James jammed the golden ring onto his finger. In an instant, his finger grew to shocking length, stretching away into sudden darkness. In the blink of an eye, his hand followed, then his arm, pulling him bodily into a stretched blur of speed. The room vanished away, replaced by a wild smear of colours. Then, with a sort of mental
twang
, he snapped back into his proper shape and the world reclaimed him.

Zane was still standing across from him-- everyone, in fact, was in the same position relative to each other as they had been a second before-- only now the group was standing on the sunlit grass of Pepperpock Down. Nearby, a group of Werewolf house students jogged in formation, circling the field and barking hoarse chants with military precision.

“Excellent!” Franklyn proclaimed with uncharacteristic excitement. “Smashing success! Well done, everyone!”

James glanced around at the high rampart grandstands and raised team platforms, a helpless smile dawning on his face. “Last time I was here,” he said with a sigh, “We were winning the Clutch tournament for the Bigfoots.”

“Good times,” Zane agreed fervently. “The Wolves still haven’t gotten over it. They’ve had to actually learn to play the game ever since Albus and Professor Jackson blasted their lucky statue. We face them the first time next Friday and everyone is predicting a Zombie win by a mile.”

“Impressive, I suppose,” Scorpius said blandly, glancing up at a few skrim-riders swooping high overhead, practicing laps through the floating Clutchcudgel rings. “If you’ve never seen a Quidditch match, that is.”

“I admit I am rather a fan of the Quaffle myself,” Franklyn said, still nearly overflowing with good cheer. “But nevertheless, shall we attempt--”

A glassy crunch emanated from beneath the Chancellor’s boot as he stepped forward. A pained look creased his face as he looked down.

“Good news, Chancellor!” Zane announced, dropping to one knee and retrieving something from the grass. “I found your spectacles!” He held up the square wireframe glasses, now rather hopelessly squashed, their lenses broken. “You must have dropped them when you zapped out here this morning.”

“I can
reparo
them, sir!” Rose jumped forward, brandishing her wand.

“No, thank you, Miss Weasley,” Franklyn sighed, taking the spectacles gingerly from Zane. “I’m afraid they’ve been magically repaired so many times that the lenses can no longer remember their original prescription. There is nothing for it but to have them reground and fitted in the traditional manner.” He pocketed the broken glasses carefully, then patted the pocket and smiled. “Still, it is a good reminder of what is perhaps the most important life lesson of all for witches and wizards.”

Rose looked quizzically up at him. “What life lesson is that, Chancellor?”

He smiled sincerely, and then laughed a little. “That not everything in life can-- or even should-- be solved by magic alone. If there is one thing I still hope to truly learn in all my centuries, it is that one, simple thing.”

James considered this, and then glanced aside at Scorpius. The blond boy shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“What’s with you, Scorpius?” James asked in a low voice.

Scorpius scowled and looked away. “
You
are. I suppose that explains a lot, yes?”

It was an insult, but it was so bald and pointless that James almost laughed. “You really are in a snit, aren’t you? Does it maybe have anything to do with all your little midnight outings?”

Scorpius glanced at him sharply. “What do you know about that?” he whispered. “Have you been spying on me?”

James nodded. “Yeah, that’s all I do every night: sit up and watch your bed to see what you’re up to. We all do. It’s sort of an obsession.”

Scorpius relaxed slightly. “You’re amusing, Potter. I’ll make you a deal. You stay out of my affairs, I’ll stay out of yours.”

James considered this, and then shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Behind them, the others seemed to be preparing for the return trip.

“Golden rings off, then,” Franklyn announced jovially. “Good thinking from our friend Mr. Deedle, that! None of us would want to end up stretched between here and Administration Hall, am I correct?” The idea seemed suddenly rather amusing to the old inventor as he chuckled to himself.

Zane had picked up on Franklyn’s good spirits. “Nothing as enjoyable as an experiment that works out as hoped, right Chancellor?”

“How right you are, Mr. Walker,” Franklyn agreed, pocketing his golden ring and producing the green-tinted one. “How right you are indeed. So! Shall we count off for the return trip, then?”

James plucked off his own golden ring, stuffing it into his jeans pocket. Along with the rest of the troop, he raised his green ring and held it before his left ring finger.

“One!” they all counted off together. “Two!
Three
!”

The return trip was exactly like the outgoing journey, but in reverse. For a split-second, James’ body seemed to be stretched like taffy between two distant points. Then, with a reverberating
twang
, the darkened laboratory room snapped into place around them.

“Smashing!” Franklyn proclaimed happily, plucking the green ring from his finger. “Exhilarating, even! Why, I can imagine an entire range of therapeutic side-benefits to this procedure. I do believe my joints have not felt this limber since I was a hundred and fifty!”

Shortly, the group retreated to the main laboratory, where Franklyn launched into an enthusiastic explanation of his gigantic clockwork mechanical man, the very device he had been working on when they had first arrived. The rest of the hour, unfortunately, was given over to a rather dull debriefing of their experiment, conducted by Professor Jackson in his typically dry, staid manner. The professor took copious notes of every detail, showing specific interest in the stretching sensation everyone experienced at the instant of transference.

“This could present a rather serious limitation, Benjamin,” he commented, studying his notes. “Even under magical influence, the human form can only discorporate so much before re-incorporation becomes unstable.”

“Oh, fiddlesticks, Theodore,” Franklyn insisted, completely unperturbed. “You are far too careful. Disapparation is many orders of magnitude more chaotic than what we experienced.”

“Perhaps,” Jackson admitted stoically. “But I suspect a greater multiplication of the effect over distances. This experiment sent you barely five hundred yards away. What will happen with distances measured in tens or thousands of miles?”

“Risk!” Franklyn laughed. “Risk and analysis! These are the hallmarks of scientific and technomancic progress. You shall see, my friend. Everything will work itself out in time.”

Jackson nodded sceptically.

“Professors,” Zane suddenly piped up. “It’s nearly two o’clock. We should all be getting back to our classes, shouldn’t we?”

Franklyn looked shocked. “Oh, my goodness gracious me. Is it that time already? Yes, yes, of course, we should all be on our way. My afternoon Defence students are expecting a rather impressive demonstration of the Herculean Heave-ho method for fighting giants. I’ve asked Professor Bunyan to assist. I will surely be regretting that particular exercise tomorrow morning. Nonetheless…”

He stood, once more patting his pockets for his spectacles. Hearing the glassy crunch of his broken glasses again, he shook his head ruefully. “Not everything can be fixed with magic,” he repeated with a smile. “But that doesn’t help me get to Defensive Techniques without falling into a fountain. Theodore, would you be kind enough to, er…?”

Professor Jackson raised his bushy black eyebrows inquiringly, and then seemed to realize what the chancellor was requesting.

“Happy to be of service,” he answered grumpily, implying quite the reverse. “Lady,” he said, nodding once to Rose, “Gentlemen. Good afternoon. Mr. Walker, I trust you will see your friends back to their cabinet.”

Zane saluted again. “Sir, yes, sir!”

A moment later, Jackson’s and Franklyn’s footsteps could be heard echoing down the stairs beyond the laboratory door.

“So,” Rose said brightly, “Is this where you show us all around the campus?”

“Campus-schmampus,” Zane grinned, leaning close and lowering his voice. “How would you all like to see something
really
amazing?”

“I already don’t like the sound of this,” Ralph muttered.

Scorpius raised one eyebrow. “What are you suggesting, Walker?”

“Oh nothing,” Zane shrugged theatrically. “Except that maybe the Chancellor was in such a good mood that he forgot to lock up when he left, thanks in part to my reminding him about classes at just the right moment.”

“You wonderful cad!” Rose squeaked, scooting close to Zane and throwing an arm around his shoulders. “What are you planning?”

“Professor Jackson is a curious old fellow,” Zane said, adopting a serious tone. “He talks a big talk about the risks, and yet he plans for the most dangerous and amazing things of all.” He leaned in again, inviting the others into a huddle. “There’s a desk back there, in that conveniently unlocked office, with
dozens more rings
, all plotted to all sorts of locations everywhere! I say we use them! I say we visit someplace
really
cool!”

“That’s insane!” Ralph rasped. “You heard what Jackson said! It sounded like if we try to go too far we’ll stretch ourselves away to nothing!”

“Fiddlesticks,” Zane said dismissively, mimicking Franklyn. “If he really thought it was dangerous he wouldn’t have made all those rings. Besides, I’m not suggesting we go all that far away. Just a
teensy
way. A hop, skip and a jump, really.”

“You’re daft,” James said, but he was grinning. He couldn’t help it.

“You’ll want to go,” Zane insisted. “Trust me.”

“It’s suicidally reckless,” Scorpius said matter-of-factly.

Zane straightened and looked at each face in turn. “It’s New Amsterdam.”

Rose nodded seriously. “How soon can we go?”

Zane clapped her on the shoulder. “Let me get my blazer.”