James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper

        'Oh, I keep forgetting,' the voice said, laughing lightly. 'You humans don't much like the whole 'godlike voice out of nowhere' sensation, do you? I'm right here.'

        On the word here, the voice localized. James turned toward the sound and saw a figure standing before him. It was exactly the same figure he'd seen in Merlin's Magic Mirror, right down to the tattered robe with no feet and the dark, featureless hood. James scrambled back from it, gasping.

        'I apologize again,' the figure said, reaching up. 'Perhaps this is a bit better.'

        The figure of the Gatekeeper touched its hood and then swept it back. James was afraid to look but couldn't help himself. He winced at the revealed shape, and then frowned a little.

        'You're the Gatekeeper?' he asked, stepping forward again. 'You look a little like… like my dad. But not exactly.'

        'This isn't how I truly look, of course,' the figure said offhandedly. 'I'm still learning about humans, I admit, but I've come to understand the sorts of shapes you find acceptable.' The Gatekeeper smiled disarmingly. 'You expected something awful, I presume? A thousand eyes and a long, forked tail? That sort of thing?'

        James nodded, and then shook his head. 'I don't know what I expected. It doesn't matter, really. What do you want?'

        'Right down to business,' the Gatekeeper said, nodding curtly, still smiling. 'That's what I respect about you, James Sirius Potter. No sentimentals. I'll tell you what I want. I want to help you.'

        James shook his head. 'I'm not buying that. You're a liar. You want me to be your host so you can stay here on the earth and destroy everything. I've learned all about you. You just want to use me.'

        'Alas,' the Gatekeeper said, frowning a little, 'put like that, it sounds rather awful, doesn't it? On the surface of it, I mean.'

        'Well…,' James said, a little uncertainly, 'yeah, it does.'

        The Gatekeeper nodded, pressing its lips together. 'I guess that settles it, then. You say no to me, I get no human host. Shortly, I'll lose my footing on this earthly plane and be forced back to the Void. You win.' The figure shrugged, as if mildly disappointed.

        'Yeah…,' James agreed tentatively, 'I guess that's pretty much it.'

        'In that case, do you mind if we just chat for a moment, James? There's no harm in that, is there?'

        'Er, I guess not.'

        'You fancy Miss Morganstern, don't you?' the Gatekeeper said, arching an eyebrow at James and winking. 'I don't blame you. Really, I don't. Delightful girl. She and I were supposed to be… very close. I have to admit, though, that I had my doubts about her. Your dead Voldemort has his rather devoted followers, and they insisted she was the one for me, but I suspected differently. And, of course, I was right. I'm always right, James. That's not pride talking, mind you. Uncertainty is the hallmark of time-bound creatures. I see history as an open book, from start to finish. I know how things are going to happen because, metaphorically speaking, I've already skipped to the last page.' The Gatekeeper sighed indulgently. 'Let me ask you something, James: do you know who I really am?' it asked, tilting its head.

        'You're the Gatekeeper,' James answered carefully. 'You're evil.'

        'Yes, yes,' the figure said, waving a hand impatiently. 'But besides all of that. I have loads of names other than that one, you know. There is one that I am particularly fond of. I think it'll amuse you.'

        James shook his head, feeling increasingly cautious. 'I don't know what you mean.'

        'Then let me illuminate you, James,' the Gatekeeper said, suddenly approaching James and dropping to one knee. It looked closely at him, its eyes sparkling mischievously. 'James, my boy, do you remember the story? The one your friend Ralph regaled you with in Wizard Literature class? You do, don't you?'

        James nodded, perplexed. 'Sure, but I don't see…'

        'You don't see because you don't look!' the Gatekeeper interrupted. It lowered its voice and said in a conspiratorial whisper, 'I, James, am the King of the Cats!'

        James backed away as fear tingled up his back.

        'Think about it,' the Gatekeeper insisted, standing again and following him. 'I sit at the base of the steps, Lord Guardian of the doorway between the living and the dead! I determine who passes through the Void, who proceeds into the Everlasting! And, I might add, I am also the Lord of… who comes back!'

        The Gatekeeper deftly snapped its fingers. Another pool of light appeared and James couldn't help glancing at it. A figure was climbing to its feet in the pool of light, looking around in surprise and wonder. James gasped and his heart leapt.

        'Grandfather…,' he said, taking a step forward.

        'James!' Arthur Weasley said, laughing a little. 'What are you doing at the Ministry? And what in the world was I doing on the floor? I must have tripped, clumsy me.'

        'Grandfather!' James exclaimed, moving to run to him, but the Gatekeeper placed a hand on James' shoulder, stopping him.

        'You cannot touch him, James,' the Gatekeeper said sorrowfully. 'Not yet. Perhaps in time.'

        'But how…,' James cried.

        Arthur Weasley tilted his head and smiled crookedly at James. 'Is this part of your grandmother's secret design?' he asked. 'It is, isn't it? I know she's been planning some sort of surprise party. She's never been able to fool me, although I let her believe she can, the dear. Where's everyone else?'

        'He cannot see me,' the Gatekeeper said, looking back at Arthur. 'Those that pass through never do.'

        'Are… are you real?' James stammered, giddy excitement welling inside him. 'Is it really you, Grandfather?'

        'What kind of question is that, James?' Arthur said, looking around. 'Where are we, anyway? This isn't the Ministry after all. I have to admit, I'm rather dumbfounded. Did I get off at the wrong grate on the Floo Network?'

        'No, Grandfather!' James cried. 'You're… you had a—'

        'Shh,' the Gatekeeper said. 'Don't tell him.'

        'Why are you doing this?' James suddenly demanded, looking up at the robed entity before him. 'That can't really be my grandfather! He's dead!'

        'Death is just a doorway,' the Gatekeeper replied, shrugging. 'You never knew that it was a two-way door. You love your grandfather, do you not?'

        'What would you know about that?' James demanded, fighting tears of frustration and anger.

        'I admit the concept is foreign to me,' the entity answered, 'but I have learned enough of humans to know it is of great power to you. You'd have your grandfather back if you could, wouldn't you?'

        James bit his lip, his emotions raging. In the second pool of light, Arthur was patting his pockets distractedly, as if looking for something. 'Wrong address,' he muttered, laughing a little nervously. 'Where'd I put that packet of emergency Floo powder? Molly always insists I carry it. She'll crow for days about the fact that I finally needed it.'

        'Yes!' James blurted, tears welling in his eyes. 'I love my grandfather. But he's gone! You can't trick me! I won't do what you ask even if it means getting him back!'

        'Selfless,' the Gatekeeper said seriously, nodding. 'A very respectable trait. I admire it, I really do.' It raised its hand and snapped its fingers again.

        A third pool of light appeared. James turned to look, blinking through a blur of tears. A figure seemed to stumble backwards into the light. He was tall and thin, wearing dark robes; his long black hair was ratty and matted with sweat. He caught his balance and spun on the spot, his wand out. Wild eyes spotted James and the man stopped, breathing heavily, obviously confused.

        'Harry?' he called, frowning in consternation. 'You're not Harry. Are you?'