The Vault of Destinies (James Potter #3) (35 page)

There was a sort of collective low whistle from the crowd, and then a ripple of derisive laughter. James glanced around with sudden anger and dismay, and then looked back up at the podium. Neville's face had gone red, but his mouth had tightened into a hard line.

"Next question," he stated flatly, raising his gaze over the crowd. Hands shot into the air again.

"Yes, Professor," another student asked from the back. James turned around and saw that it was a member of Igor House, wearing the characteristic acid green tie. His face was round and waxy in the lamplight near the doors. "I'm sorry, my question isn't really flora-related either. Did you know, when you rallied your classmates against the revolutionaries of your time, that you were siding with the existing totalitarian regime or were you just duped by the propaganda of the day into thinking that you were on the side of right?"

Neville opened his mouth in shock as the crowd babbled noisily, nodding in agreement and shouting for him to answer. James looked around again, meeting Zane and Ralph's eyes. It was like the first Hogwarts all-school debate again, only worse, because the entire crowd seemed to be on the same side. Now James understood why the lecture had been so well-attended. Neville, after all, was nearly as famous as Harry Potter, and not just for his textbooks on herbology.

"I was afraid something like this would happen," Zane said, leaning toward James. "Like I told you, the Progressive Element types are all over the place here. There are even some in the faculty."

Ralph looked around uneasily. "Won't the professors put a stop to it?"

"That's not really the way things work around here," Zane replied. "Neville's expected to answer the questions, no matter what. I wouldn't be surprised if this wasn't part of why he was asked to speak."

"If that's true, it's beastly," Petra said with low conviction.

At the podium, Neville stood stoically, his brow lowered. He no longer seemed nervous. He seemed, if anything, quietly angry. He collected the Bamboozle again and deposited it carefully into a pocket of his robes.

"Are there any questions related to the subject that I was invited here to speak upon?" he asked loudly, overruling the babbling audience.

"Answer the question!" a voice behind James hollered. Others joined in, turning the phrase into a chant.

Neville glanced down toward the front row. James leaned forward and saw his dad nod slightly up at Neville. To James' amazement, Harry Potter seemed to be smiling with something like weary resignation. On Harry's left, Merlin's expression was calm and inscrutable, his arms folded almost lazily across his chest. Professor Sanuye shrugged up at Neville and shook his head regretfully. He didn't appear to like what was happening, but neither did he seem prepared to put a stop to it.

"You lot seem to be suffering under some rather unfortunate misapprehensions about history," Neville finally said, holding his wand to his throat and amplifying his voice. The raucous crowd quieted, but not completely. Neville went on, lowering his wand again. "Now, if you insist upon asking questions unrelated to my subject of expertise, I shall apparently have to answer them, lest I leave you with the impression that I am unable to do so. But you will ask your questions with respect, and not use the opportunity to merely quote popular propaganda for the amusement of your fellows. Is anyone willing to abide by these stipulations?"

Less hands went up now. Neville frowned and nodded at a student near James, who stood up.

"Professor," the young man said, and James saw that he was a college-level student and a member of Vampire House, "as a scholar, surely you'd agree that your work with flora is intended for the benefit of all mankind. Is that true?"

Neville narrowed his eyes slightly. "I live in the hope that such is the case, young man."

"Then why, sir, do you and others like you insist on hoarding your discoveries for the magical community, refusing even to consider sharing them with the Muggle world?"

The crowd erupted again, shouting scornfully, many climbing to their feet.

"Questions… are… permitted!" a voice bellowed from the front row, and James was relieved to see that it was Professor Sanuye, his eyes dark and severe. The crowd quieted again almost instantly and the professor went on in a measured voice. "But disrespect is
not
. You have heard the terms of our esteemed guest and they are quite reasonable. It is the policy of this school to welcome discourse, but not discord. Allow Professor Longbottom to answer your questions or do not ask them. Understood?"

The crowd muttered to itself, obviously agitated, but subdued for the moment. On the stage, Neville cleared his throat again.

"A good question, my friend," he said slowly, raising his eyebrows. "One that any thinking witch and wizard should ask themselves. The answer, however, is equally important. Granted, we in the magical community could offer many advancements and medicines to the Muggle world. The fact of the matter is that we do so even now. Your own Chancellor has had a hand in the groundbreaking Inter-Magical Knowledge Exchange Act, which allows inertly magical lifesaving discoveries to be shared with the Muggle world secretly, but effectively. There are charities and coalitions who have been granted special privilege to act secretly in the Muggle world, performing acts of magical intervention in deserving situations. I suspect that you are aware of these things, however, so I can only assume that what you truly mean by your question is this: why do we not simply throw the doors of the magical world wide open to the Muggle community, revealing ourselves fully and completely? Is this so?"

The young man shuffled his feet slightly and glanced around at the rest of the audience. "Um. Yes, I think that is exactly right. The prejudiced policies of magical governments against the Muggle world should be overthrown. Total disclosure is the only option that will result in real freedom for all of humanity…"

"Yes, yes," Neville nodded. "I've seen the posters as well. Let us assume that we do exactly as you propose. The magical world comes out of hiding and reveals itself completely to the Muggle world. What do you expect will happen?"

"Well," the young man mumbled, looking around again, apparently wishing someone else would come to his aid. The rest of the audience merely watched with bright-eyed interest. "Well, then there would be equality. We could help the Muggles. We could share everything we know with them, and help them in lots of ways. I mean, we're witches and wizards. We've got magic on our side."

"Ahh!" Neville said, leaning forward on the podium. "We could help them indeed. But what if they didn't
wish
to be helped? What if certain members of the magical community desired to get involved in Muggle affairs, such as business, medicine, even government, and the Muggles didn't wish them to?"

"Then we'd help them to understand that we just want to help them!" the student replied, rallying. "They wouldn't know what was best for them, after all."

Neville nodded. "So we'd help them against their will?"

"If we had to," the young man answered, raising his chin.

"Indeed," Neville concurred. "Many would do exactly that. Certain witches and wizards would inculcate themselves into the Muggle ruling class, all under the guise of helping them. Some of us—not you, of course, my friend, but some—would be happy to resort to force. They'd use whatever magic helped them in the cause, even the Imperius Curse. Others, however, would be less… scrupulous. Believe it or not, my friends, there are witches and wizards among us who might actually wish to rule the Muggles merely for the sake of power. Such people are kept in check now by the existence of the international laws of secrecy. But what will you do with these witches and wizards if those laws are abolished? Will you protect the Muggles from them? How? What will keep wicked witches and wizards from using whatever means they wish to achieve power over the Muggles?"

The young man seemed to know that he was losing the moral high ground. He shuffled his feet some more and refused to look directly at Neville. "That's just scaremongering. That's what you people always do."

"Scaring people with fictitious threats is scaremongering," Neville said kindly. "Warning people about threats that are quite real—threats that history teaches us are very nearly a certainty given the right conditions—is an act of kindness and compassion. The history of Muggle-magical interaction is rife with conflict. Both sides are equally guilty, admittedly, but the reality remains the same. We stay in hiding, quite simply, because the good that could come from our incorporation into the Muggle world is decidedly less than the evil that would inevitably result. In a perfect world, my friend, your theories would be quite honorable. Alas, this is not a perfect world."

"Excuses and lies!" the student cried out suddenly, and the crowd stirred around him, murmuring agreement. "You hate the Muggles, so you wish to keep them ignorant of us, and all we could do for them. There
aren't
any supreme evil witches and wizards bent on taking over the world. That's a lie that you people have made up just to keep the rest of the magical world in line. The Muggles would welcome us, and you know it. And even if they didn't…" The young man faltered suddenly, realizing what he was about to say.

Neville didn't blink, but stared at the man solemnly, gripping the podium before him. "Even if they didn't…," he said, finishing the student's thought, "we'd have magic on our side. Right?"

The young man sat down suddenly and the crowd babbled again, growing noisy and tense. Professor Sanuye climbed to the stage and moved alongside Neville. "That will conclude tonight's lecture," he called sternly. "Students, please make your way back to your dormitories, thank you. It is rather late, and at least some of you have class with me in the morning. I will frown upon any absences due to your staying out too late the night before. Good evening, and thank you for coming." At that point, Sanuye turned to Neville, reaching to shake his hand. The two talked, their heads close together.

"What a complete load of yax fodder," a girl behind James muttered angrily. "But what do you expect?"

"Come on," Zane sighed, shaking his head. "The sooner we get out of here, the better. Let's go grab a soda at the Kite and Key."

James followed Zane and Ralph out of the crowded theater, glancing back toward the stage. His father stood in front, flanked by Merlin and Denniston Dolohov, who was laughing animatedly. None of them seemed the slightest bit perturbed by the events of the night and James could guess why. Most of them had been dealing with the allegations of the Progressive Element for years, both subtly, through articles in
the Daily Prophet,
and overtly, such as the demonstration that had occurred at Hogwarts during James' first year. They had all developed rather thick skins about such things. James had not developed such a thick skin, and he felt decidedly angry and unsettled.

As the three reached the theater doors and stepped out into the night air, James glanced around to see if Petra was planning to join them for a soda at the campus tavern. She was nowhere in sight amidst the dissipating throng, however. James lingered for a moment, looking for her without any success, and then turned and ran to catch up with his friends.

James' dreams were interrupted some hours later by a loud rapping at his dormitory room door. He startled and very nearly fell out of the narrow bed. Outside the door, a faint squeaking sound came, like the screech of old hinges.

"That brass monkey gives me the royal creeps," Ralph muttered, covering his head with his pillow. "Is that its voice?"

"I think its clockworks are too old to make a voice anymore," James yawned. "It just squeaks its jaw. That must be our four a.m. wake-up call."

Ralph swung his feet out of bed. "I never thought I'd say this, but I miss my old digital alarm clock."

Five minutes later, the boys sneaked out of the front door of the common dorm, closing it quietly behind them. The night was cool and still all around, wet with dew. The fountains had stopped running for the night, and even the birdbath gargoyles seemed to be asleep. Ralph wore his duffle bag slung over his shoulder, packed with the Zombie House flag.

"Do they have campus guards, you think?" he whispered as they began to steal through the darkness.

"Better safe than sorry," James answered. "Stick close to the trees. The moonlight is too bright for us to cross the main lawns."

Ralph huffed as they ran. "This was a lot easier when we had the Invisibility Cloak."

"Hopefully this is the only time this year we'll need it. It'll be fine. Just keep up."

By the time they reached the deep shadows of Administration Hall, James' trainers were soggy with dew and both boys were panting. They leaned against the cool bricks and caught their breath before slipping between the bushes and sneaking around to the rear of the building.

"All right," James whispered, hunkering in the shadow of a tall shrubbery. "This should be a snap. I'll climb up and switch the flags. You stay down here and keep an eye on me with your wand. If I fall, you and your wand will know what to do, right?"