James Potter And The Morrigan Web (72 page)

From the hearth, Harry studied his son’s face. “I have a pretty good idea myself, James. I’ve been calling in some favours with a few low level contacts at the American Muggle Integration Bureau. This new vice president of theirs-- the wizard who you say calls himself ‘the Collector’-- virtually no one has ever heard of him. Apparently he was the protégé of the Senator that was killed last year, Charles Filmore. At least, that’s the story the Muggle news people are reporting. But there’s no evidence that it’s actually true. As far as I can tell, he simply appeared out of nowhere. If he is indeed a wizard taking advantage of the broken vow of secrecy…”

“Then his plan may be to murder the American president and assume his position,” Rose nodded. “Sorry, Uncle Harry. We already figured that bit out.”

“But that’s not who I’m talking about,” James said, exasperated. “When we discovered Worlick’s body, we saw someone else. Well, at least Lucia and I did.”

Harry tilted his head. “Who’s Lucia?”

“That’s not important,” James insisted. “The point is…”

He paused, suddenly unsure how, precisely, he should proceed. How should he tell his dad that one of the most important people in his life, the long dead Albus Dumbledore, seemed to have a sort of evil twin-- a mysterious dark mirror in the form of Avior Dorchascathan? Suddenly, James heard Avior’s own words echoing in his head, accompanied by the deep chill of the Durmstrang classroom:
It would be best, Mr. Potter,
the hauntingly familiar wizard had said calmly, almost kindly,
if you did not tell your father about this. Harry might be a bit… conflicted…

James felt stymied before the patient gaze of his father. The words dried up and he found he simply could not speak. Finally, Harry himself broke the silence.

“I know this is all very worrisome and confusing,” he said, addressing both James and Rose. “And I am sorry that you lot have gotten involved in this at all. I wish I could tell you what I’ve told you in the past, that this isn’t your problem, that we adults will handle it. But the fact is, you are no longer exactly children yourselves. You’ve seen too much,” here, Harry looked directly at his son, and James knew what he was thinking of: Poor, lost cousin Lucy, held in Ralph’s arms, carried through nightmare after nightmare. “No matter how much I might wish otherwise,” Harry went on, “This isn’t only my battle. I told you at the beginning of this year, James, that I might need to rely on you, that you might be in a position to do what I cannot. It seems that that time has come.”

A sudden chill of fear descended upon James at these words. He hadn’t realized how comforting his father’s old reassurances had been-- assurances that the world was an essentially safe place and didn’t need to be saved by him and Ralph, Zane and Rose; that the adults were in charge and were fully equipped to handle anything that came their way; that his only duties were to his schoolwork and his friends and to enjoy being young and free of weighty responsibilities. He had always rejected those assurances, always chosen to involve himself anyway, and to bring along those of his friends who were willing to help.

Now, he realized that there was a secret luxury in assuming responsibilities that weren’t his-- the luxury of knowing that no one expected him to succeed-- the luxury, at the heart of it all, to fail.

James met his father’s eyes and nodded slowly. He swallowed and heard an audible click in his throat. “Whatever you need, dad.”

Harry closed his eyes, seeming to war within himself. He drew a deep breath. “Your mother would kill me if she knew I was asking this,” he admitted seriously. “But here it is. What I need from both of you is to be my ears. Loquatious Knapp may not know what is really happening, but Rechtor Grudje just might. Surely he knows more than the Minister, at any rate. But,” he added quickly, his expression turning stern, “I’m
not
telling you to go spying on him. I’m not giving you permission to do anything daft that might get you caught. Filch would love nothing more than to pour his torture out on you lot.”

“Corsica, too,” James added fervently.

“I’m only telling you,” Harry went on, ignoring this, “to keep your ears open. If there are more attempts to stifle the flow of information in and out of the school, if there are any new decrees or rules about what teachers are allowed to teach, or what clubs are permitted to meet, or if there are any other changes to the way things are done, I need you to let me know. Grudje won’t come out and say what’s coming, but we might learn something just by the preparations he makes.”

James ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “But how can we tell you anything even if we want to? All our post is searched, remember?”

“I’ve already thought about that,” Harry said, firming his voice. “Just send a note to your Mum saying you miss her cooking. She’ll be happy to hear from you and I’ll know that you need me to contact you. Be here in the common room when everyone else goes to bed and I’ll find you.”

James nodded his understanding. “But what should we be watching for most of all? What are we most hoping to figure out?”

Harry shook his head slowly. “Anything at all. I’m totally in the dark here. You have no idea how frustrating that is. If I get caught so much as asking the wrong questions, I suspect I’ll be shut down completely, possibly put on extended leave. But what we really need to know more than anything,” he admitted with a sigh, “is if the Morrigan Web is a real thing. And if so, what does it do? We can’t hope to stop it if we can’t answer those questions first.”

Rose glanced at James, her face tense and her eyes bright. James resisted the urge to look back at her. “Got it,” he said soberly. “We’ll keep our ears open, Dad. And let you know if anything changes around here.”

Harry seemed to accept this. “I need to go. Your mother says hello and that she loves you. She also says to be sure to keep up with all your studies and to eat a vegetable every now and then. And pass the same on to Albus and Lil.”

“I will, Dad,” James replied, hardly listening.

“And Rose,” Harry added, turning to her. “Much love from your Mum and Dad as well. Keep your eye on James, Albus and Lil, won’t you?”

Rose brightened and sat up straight. “I will, Uncle Harry. You can trust me.”

Harry gave her a bemused half-smile. “Goodnight, you two. I’ll expect you both to be in bed in five minutes. The Map will tell me if you aren’t.”

James and Rose offered mumbled assurances and bid Harry goodnight. A moment later, his head vanished from the coals.

“You know what we have to do,” Rose prodded James the moment they were alone. “We have to go with Zane into the cellars at Alma Aleron and find that old witch, Crone Laosa! She’s the only person who might know what the Morrigan Web really is!”

“You’re right,” James nodded thoughtfully. “I guess. But there’s something else I need to do first.”

“What?” Rose demanded. “You heard your dad! The Morrigan Web is our biggest concern! Until we figure that out, it’s all hopeless!”

James stared into the fire, frowning deeply. “I saw Petra the other night,” he admitted quietly. “The night we found Worlick dead in the woods. I talked to her.”

Rose was silent as she stared at him, her mouth pressed into a worried line. She seemed to consider several questions but finally settled on, “What did she say?”

“She said that we were getting too close,” he said, finally raising his eyes to hers. “She warned me to let it go. To not try to stop her.”

Rose’s face paled and her eyes widened. When she spoke, her voice was a harsh whisper. “So… she really is involved in all of this, then? But… why? Why would she do anything so awful?”

“I don’t
know
,” James said emphatically. “But I’ve been thinking about it ever since. It’s almost like… like she doesn’t think there’s any other way. Like, as terrible as it is going to be, it’s better than the alternative.”

Rose narrowed her eyes at him seriously. “James,” she said, “I know you’ve always had sort of a thing for her…”

James blinked at his cousin in surprise and annoyance. “Rose, don’t be--”

“Petra is
pretty
,” she interrupted. “But that doesn’t mean she’s good or right. We’ve discussed this.”

“I know, Rose,” James rolled his eyes and slumped back against the armchair. “Don’t you think I know that by now?”

“So what are you going to do?”

“That’s what I was about to tell you,” he sighed deeply. “She thinks we are getting too close. She said it after we found Worlick’s body, but I don’t think that’s what made her appear to me, to warn us away.”

Rose shook her head impatiently. “Well? What was it, then?”

James turned his head to look at her. “I think it’s Avior,” he said firmly. “Petra knew that we saw him, maybe even that he
wanted
us to see him. Somehow, she knows that Avior is the key to the whole thing.”

Rose considered this. “So what do we do?”

“That’s the easy part, I guess,” James replied reluctantly. “I take him up on his offer of a visit in his office.”

“He won’t just tell you all of his deepest, darkest secrets,” Rose frowned.

“You know,” James said, raising his eyebrows consideringly. “I think… he just might.”

The plan, as it turned out, was deceptive in its simplicity, but fraught with hazards.

“I feel like I’m going to vomit,” James mumbled through a fake smile, weaving his way through intimidatingly unfamiliar Durmstrang corridors lined with imposing statues, pillars and frowning grey-clad young men.

Next to him, smiling much more eagerly and comfortably, Nastasia shrugged. “Maybe you should just puke and get it over with, you know? It sure couldn’t make us any more totally conspicuous than we already are.”

As she spoke, James sidled past a knot of Durmstrang boys in the crowded hall. One of the boys scowled at him suspiciously while the others muttered, their eyes narrowed at the scurrying interlopers.

“We don’t have anything to worry about,” Nastasia proclaimed, pushing out her chin as they turned a corner. “We’ve been invited to Professor Avior’s office. Or, at least,
you
have. But I’m totally his favourite student. What’s
your
problem, Jughead?” This last was to a very stocky boy with a brick-red face and a flat crew cut who bumped her shoulder as she passed. She glared back at him challengingly. “You want to tango with me? I’m walking here!”

“Nastasia, shut up!” James hissed, grabbing the sleeve of her Alma Aleron blazer and yanking her onward. “Are you trying to start a row?”

“Not afraid of one, if that’s what you mean,” she answered loudly, still glowering back over her shoulder. “These stuffed-robes are all bark and no bite. Am I right?”

James shook his head nervously, resisting the urge to run the rest of the way to Avior’s office. “Are you sure this is the right way?”

“How should I know?” Nastasia shrugged. “You’re the one with the written invitation.”

“You were there when we planned this! Didn’t you pay any attention?”

“Oh, for hexing hinkypunks,” a voice rasped behind James, “It’s right there at the end of the hall. Sign’s on the door. Can’t either of you read?”

James wheeled on the spot, but there was no one behind him. “Who said that?” he demanded.

“You’re already nervous,” a second voice whispered out of nowhere. “You probably don’t want to know.”

“Oh give it up,” Nastasia sighed, glancing around the suddenly empty corridor. “Classes have started. The coast is clear.” She reached out, groped in thin air for a moment, and then closed her fist and yanked. A pair of heads appeared from beneath a flutter of invisible cloth.

“Hi, big brother,” Albus grinned, his hair matted to his forehead. “Rose and I thought it would be best to tag along all invisible like. Hope you don’t mind.”

James spluttered. “But--! The Invisibility Cloak!” He gestured wildly toward their still unseen bodies.

“It was just in Filch’s office,” Rose said. “He may have Grudge’s magical cane, but that doesn’t make him any good at locking spells. We just popped in this morning and nicked it from his drawer of contraband. If we’re careful, we’ll get it back tonight before he even knows it’s gone.”

“And we’d bloody well succeed,” Albus nodded, “Because if Filch catches on that it’s gone there’s only one person he’ll blame.”

“Yeah!” James exclaimed desperately, tapping his own chest. “That’d be me, you great git! Are you
trying
to get me murdered by that sadistic squib?”

Nastasia tilted her head and said in a sing-song voice, “I
told
you not to
tell
him…”

“
I
didn’t say anything,” Rose frowned. “It was Loudmouth here that couldn’t keep quiet.”

Albus elbowed Rose under the Cloak. “You know if I hadn’t spoken up we’d be stuck wandering these halls all day. James couldn’t find his own bum with a beacon charm.”

“Look,” James interrupted. “This is completely bloody mental! Why are you two even here?”

Rose firmed her jaw defensively. “I’m here to snoop around Avior’s quarters while you and Nastasia distract him.”