James Potter And The Morrigan Web (33 page)

James glanced up at her disconsolately. “Yeah. For whatever it’s worth.”

She smiled slightly. “Thanks, big brother. But don’t do too good of a job, all right? I want to have a bit of fun.”

James nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ve got my hands pretty full as it is.”

Lily’s smile widened. “Good,” she replied brightly. “I can look after myself, anyway.”

The weekend came and went with surprising speed. James spent most of it in the Gryffindor common room trying to catch up on his homework and forget about the many distractions that begged his attention. Observing his dogged perseverance, Rose attempted to help, but she was almost always accompanied by Scorpius, whose smug presence only served as further distraction.

“What’s with you two?” James hissed at her during one of Scorpius’ rare absences. “Are you snogging or what?”

“No!” she insisted, not meeting his eyes. “And none of your business, you nosy git!”

James cocked his head insistently. “Yeah, well. So are you?”

“Maybe,” she admitted curtly. “What do you think, James? You like Scorpius, don’t you?”

“Not like
you
do, apparently,” James scoffed. “Lately, he seems a lot more Slytherin than Gryffindor if you ask me. I think you should be quit with him.”

“Well I guess nobody asked you,” she muttered. “You don’t know him. You weren’t even here last year.”

“I know he’s keeping secrets.”

Rose glanced up at him suddenly. She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Secrets. You know what they are, right? Sneaky stuff he’s not telling people? He’s up to something.”

Rose continued to stare at him meaningfully. Then, a thought seemed to strike her and she shook her head dismissively. “Ah,” she said to herself.

“‘Ah’ what?” James pressed.

“Ah nothing. Get back to your charms essay. It’s almost lunchtime.”

James sensed that Rose knew something, but wouldn’t tell him no matter how hard he tried. Reluctantly, he returned to his homework, his resolve to find out what Scorpius was up to firmer than ever.

His opportunity came on Sunday night.

It had been a particularly unhappy day. Gryffindor played its first Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, a rare Sunday afternoon event, densely attended as the first match of the season. A dull, spritzing rain suffused the pitch into a wet fog, which wouldn’t have been so bad if not for the fact that Hufflepuff had taken an early lead and held onto it throughout the entire three hour affair. James huddled under his wet cloak between Rose and Heth Thomas, alternately squinting through the fog and donning his spectacles, which would quickly become obscured with spatters of fine mist.

The sight of Lance Vassar playing Seeker was singularly galling, especially since the boy seemed to bring neither skill nor passion to the position. He spent most of the match hovering near the new scoreboard, glancing idly around the pitch, ducking behind the enormous board whenever a Bludger spun his way.

For their own part, the rest of the Gryffindor team seemed preoccupied with just staying on their new brooms. Along with the scoreboard, Lance’s parents had provided a fleet of brand new Pulsars, broomsticks so advanced that they had reportedly been developed by a top secret branch of the Department of Mysteries. James recognized them as the same type ridden by the Harriers during their adventure in New Amsterdam. What had been shockingly fast and manoeuvrable in the canyons of the abandoned city, however, were almost too much to handle in the confines of the Quidditch pitch. As James watched, Mei Isis, one of Gryffindor’s beaters, raised her club and swooped toward a spiralling Bludger only to flash straight past it, nearly colliding with Devindar Das near the rings. He swore at her in the blowing rain, and she swore angrily back, her long black ponytail flinging rainwater over her shoulder.

Lance watched this with aloof disapproval. Behind him, the scoreboard shot a volley of golden fireworks, announcing another Hufflepuff score.

“His hair’s not even wet!” Rose suddenly proclaimed, pointing. “He’s charmed the air around him to keep the rain off, just so his haircut won’t get mussed! What a total prat!”

“Perhaps he did it so he could see better,” Heth suggested unconvincingly.

“I might believe that,” James muttered, “if he actually seemed to be trying to
see
anything. He’s just waiting the match out so he can get back to giving me smug looks in the common room.”

“This is your fault, James!” Deirdre Finnegan interjected from behind him, poking him on the shoulder. “If only you hadn’t missed try-outs!”

James glanced back at her in annoyance. “Are you ever going to let me forget that?”

She glared at him meaningfully from her seat next to Graham Warton. “No!” They both answered in unison.

The match ended ignominiously, when the Hufflepuff Seeker, Julia Lemon, appeared from a long swoop around the Ravenclaw grandstand, the Snitch glittering in her outstretched hand.

On the other side of the pitch, Lance shrugged and applauded gamely. “Good match!” he called over the sizzling rain. “Good match, everyone! Huzzah!”

James leapt from his seat, forgetting for a moment that he wasn’t on a broom and could not go knock Lance off of his.

By that night, the persistent drizzle had turned into a steady, blatting downpour. The rain coated the windows, punctuated with flickers of lightning and rumbling thunderclaps. James was not looking forward to the next morning. Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creatures class was scheduled for a boat ride into the middle of the lake for a visit with the Giant Squid. Knowing Hagrid, he would barely even notice if it was still raining, much less consider reconvening the class to the warmth of the barn menagerie. Also, annoyingly, Morton Comstock and the other Muggles from Yorke would be there, surely complaining about the rain and the lake and how boring the Giant Squid is compared to the monsters in their stupid computer games.

It was a consistent wonder to James that so many Muggles preferred pretend challenges on video screens over the rewards of any real life challenge. Of course, as Ralph often reminded him, when one got eaten by a dragon in a video game, one could simply hit reset and try again. There was no real danger involved. James didn’t say so to Ralph, but he secretly believed that it was that very element-- the danger-- that made the adventure worth having.

He was just drifting into a fitful sleep when a clap of earth-shaking thunder rattled the window near his bed. Lightning flooded the room, illuminating everything in one brief second. James sighed and rolled over, annoyed to have been startled alert. He peered into the depths of the darkened room, surprised that no one else had woken up. He saw Graham’s arm draped over the side of the bed. On the other side of the tower, Heth Thomas seemed to have fallen asleep while studying. A soft snore emanated from beneath the book splayed open on his face. Next to him, a candle burned low on the night table.

The candlelight reached the end of Scorpius’ bed. James raised his head and frowned curiously. Scorpius’ bed was unmade, lumpy with pillows and blankets. It was empty.

James nearly jumped out of his own bed, his heart suddenly pounding with anticipation. He tiptoed over to Scorpius’ four-poster and dropped to one knee next to it. He peered underneath. There was nothing beneath the bed but a single sock and a flock of dust-bunnies.

“No shoes,” James whispered to himself. “That little snake! Where is he?”

James stood up slowly, thinking hard. He knew he had to follow Scorpius, but how? There was nothing for it but to sneak out himself and hope to track him down. Perhaps Cedric would be out roaming the halls and offer to help. Then again, perhaps Peeves would show up first and raise a ruckus. James couldn’t take the risk of being caught, at least not before he found Scorpius.

He nodded to himself and returned to his bed. As quietly and quickly as he could, he dressed in jeans and a dark tee shirt, opened his trunk and retrieved the Invisibility Cloak. With a flourish, he threw it over himself, checking to make sure that it hung low enough to hide his feet.

Another clap of thunder shook the walls, startling him. Across the room, something heavy fell to the floor with a clunk. James leapt at the sound of it, his heart slamming up into his throat. He spun on the spot, eyes wide, and saw Heth rolling over in his sleep, muttering. The book had fallen off his face and thumped to the floor.

“It’s just a Transfiguration textbook,” he muttered to himself, willing his heart to stop pounding. Why was he so jumpy all of a sudden? He reminded himself that he wasn’t off on any perilous adventure. He was simply following Scorpius, trying to find out what the boy was sneaking around about in the middle of the night. It was rather a long standing mystery, in fact. The boy had been strangely missing in the middle of the night ever since his first year. Why? Where was he going? Was he meeting someone? What were they up to?

A chill shook James’ shoulders. Was Scorpius perhaps less trustworthy than they all assumed? After all, he had, at least for a time, worked with his now deceased grandfather, Lucius Malfoy, in a plot that would have resulted in the death of his sister, Lily. Scorpius claimed, of course, that he had not been aware of that part of the plot. But was he telling the truth? Was he perhaps even now still lying about his loyalties?

James pressed his lips together with resolve and turned to the staircase. Tonight, finally, he meant to find out.

The common room was dark and seemingly empty, lit only by the ruddy glow of the fire. James skirted the sofa and chairs, heading toward the portrait hole. Just before he reached it, however, his foot struck something heavy, sending him sprawling to the floor in a messy heap.

“Ow!” a voice hissed.

“Who’s that?” James whispered harshly, scrambling around under the cloak, his foot still encumbered by whatever had tripped him. A hand scrabbled at the cloak and yanked it off him.

“James!” a girl’s voice rasped in annoyance.

James blinked in the darkness. “Lil? What are
you
doing up?”

“None of your business!” his sister proclaimed haughtily, stiffening. “I should be asking you the same thing! And using Dad’s cloak, too! He will completely murder you when he finds out you’ve nicked it again!”

James rolled his eyes. “How many times do I need to explain, I
didn’t
nick it this time. How’d you know it was me?”

Lily gave an exasperated sigh. “I heard your big feet clomping down the stairs but didn’t see anyone. It was either a clumsy ghost or you under dad’s cloak again.”

A giggle emanated from behind the couch.

“Who’s that?” James demanded, clambering to his feet. “What is this?”

“Oh, that’s Chase,” Lily grinned. “Come on out, it’s just James.”

A head of curly brown hair poked over the sofa. James recognized first year Chance Jackson, one of Lily’s new friends.

“Look,” he announced firmly, yanking the invisibility cloak away from Lily. “I don’t know what you two are up to--”

“Us
three,
you mean,” a boy’s voice amended as a second head appeared over the couch. It was Stanton Ollivander, a sleep cap tugged down over his head, completely obscuring his hair.

James glared at him. “Fine,” he admitted curtly. “I don’t know what you
three
are up to, but it’s late and all of you should very much be in bed.”

“Who are you to talk?” a muffled voice countered. “
You’re
out of bed, aren’t you?”

James glanced at the three faces in turn. “Which one of you said that?”

“I did,” the muffled voice answered stubbornly.

“Oh come on out, Marcus,” Lily sighed. “It’s only James. He can’t do anything to us.”

A third heard appeared, this one from beneath a chair on James’ left. Marcus Cobb peered up at him, his dark hair tousled into a bird’s nest, his green eyes sober in the darkness.

“Look,” James gestured in annoyance, “just how many of you are there, anyway?”

“Well,” Lily admitted, raising her hand and counting off on her fingers. “Besides the four of us, there’s Shivani, who is still upstairs putting on her makeup because she’s a silly vain thing who thinks we might just run into a handsome vampire along the way and wants to look all pretty, and Penelope Bones was going to come, too, but she chickened out at the last moment and pretended to be asleep no matter how hard I shook her. So that’s pretty much it-- a little night-time dare out to the greenhouses and back, perhaps with a stop at the kitchen for a bite. And what are
you
doing up and about all by yourself, big brother?”

James rallied and raised his chin. “Maybe I’m keeping an eye on
you
, little sister, making sure you don’t do anything foolish.”

Lily nodded. “Right. And maybe I’m the queen of bloody England.”

On the couch, Chance Jackson giggled again, covering her mouth with both hands.

“You can’t do anything to us,” Marcus announced, still staring up at James from beneath his chair. “You’re not a prefect or Head Boy or anything. Besides, you’re always out sneaking around after lights out. You can’t have all the fun.”