JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

       The man narrowed his eyes in a parody of deep thought, as if he really wanted to say yes, just to keep the pretty waitress talking to him, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it. He blew out a breath and shook his head. 'Sorry, can't say I know 'im. Frankly, I don't run across too many boys anymore, now that my own are mostly grown. My youngest just went off to the milit'ry, you know…'

       The waitress nodded, straightening. 'You let me know if you need a refill on that, all right?' She smiled again, a somewhat more plastic smile than the one she'd shown him a few moments before, and then turned away.

       Trish, the older waitress, was standing by the cash register counting out her end-of-day tips. Without looking up, she said, 'What is it with you and this Potter kid? You've been asking about him since your first day here, what, three weeks ago? I, for one, don't believe he's any relation of yours. What is it? He lay into your kid brother or something? His folks owe you money?'

       Judy laughed. 'Nothing like that. He's just… a friend of a friend. Someone I've lost touch with and want to find again. It's nothing. It's sort of a hobby, really.'

       Trish chuckled drily. She slammed the register drawer shut and stuck a thin roll of bills into her apron. 'Some hobby. I've seen your little apartment, remember? If you want a hobby, maybe you should take up decorating. That place is as bare as Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard. Not even a bed. Creepy, if you ask me.'

       Judy wasn't listening to Trish. Her eyes were locked on the front window, expressionless and unblinking, transfixed.

       'What is it, Judy?' Trish asked, looking up. 'You look like someone just walked over your…'

       Judy held up a hand, palm out, instructing the older woman to be still. Trish went still. Judy stared through the front window, between the faces of the overweight couple who were still arguing over the map, beyond the narrow footpath and the lamppost, across the street, toward a small man as he ambled slowly down an alley, tapping a twisted cane as he went. Judy's eyes narrowed slightly, quizzically.

       Behind her, loudly, the short order cook banged the bell again. A plate clanked onto the counter. Neither Trish nor Judy moved.

'Number six,' the cook called, peering at the two women through the little pickup window, his cheeks red and sweaty. 'Bangers and mash, no pickle—' he went on, bellowing, but his voice cut off abruptly as Judy raised her hand again, gesturing vaguely toward him. He stared at her, unmoving, as if frozen in place.

       Judy moved out from behind the counter, walking with a swift, determined gait that was completely unlike her previous movements.

       'I think we're ready to order now,' the overweight woman said, smiling hopefully up at her. She froze in place as Judy passed her. The bell jingled over the door as it swept open entirely on its own, so swiftly that it sucked a gust of air through the diner, whipping menus from tables and flapping order slips on the cook's carousel. No one inside seemed to notice. The middle-aged man with thinning black hair sat with his fork half-raised to his mouth, still as a statue.

       Judy strode into the misty sunlight and began to cross the street. A horn blared and brakes squealed as a lorry bore down on her, swerving into a deep puddle, but the sound cut off sharply as Judy raised her hand. Fingers of ice erupted from the puddle and embraced the lorry so firmly that it slammed to a halt. It emitted a screech of crimping metal and the driver's head struck the windshield, shattering it into a bright starburst. Judy still had not taken her eyes from the small man with the cane. He turned back at the noise of the mysteriously halted lorry, his eyes gimlet and wary. He saw Judy approaching. His expression didn't change, but when he turned back, he did so with much improved posture. He began to run down the alley, gripping his cane at his side. Judy smiled happily and leapt onto the curb, following the man into the alley.

       He ducked into a narrow cross street, not looking back, but Judy was amazingly fast. She was still smiling, and it was a beautiful smile, one filled with delight and a sort of dawning wonder.

       'Lemme be!' the man called out, still running. He darted up a short stairway toward a decrepit apartment door and began to fumble a key into the lock. 'Lemme be, I didn't do anything wrong!'

       Judy reached the bottom of the steps just as the man socked the key home. He jerked the door open and lurched inside, still clutching his cane to his side.

       'Please wait,' Judy said, raising her hand, but the man didn't look back. Neither did he stop in his tracks as everyone else had. He slammed the door and Judy heard the bolt clack into place. Her smile narrowed, sharpened at the edges, becoming a hard grin. She raised her hand once more, curled her forefinger under her thumb, and pointed it at the door. It looked as if she meant to flick a speck of dust out of the air. She flicked.

       The heavy wooden door exploded inwards with a reverberating, hollow crash. It shattered into a dozen pieces, all of which blew partly up the narrow staircase beyond. The small man was halfway up the steps, hunched and gripping the banister, afraid to move.

       'I didn't do anything wrong,' he cried in a high, tremulous voice, still not looking back. 'What've I done? What do you want? Why can't you just leave me be?'

       Judy moved forward and began to slowly climb the stairs. The chunks of door clattered aside as she neared them. 'Who do you think I am?' she asked, her voice sounding both pleased and amused.

'Well, it's plain, innit?' the man said, trembling. He finally peered back at her from over his right shoulder, still clutching his cane. 'You're from the Ministry. You found out about me cane. It's not a proper wand, not really. I ordered it special through the post, but that's not illegal now, is it? I mean, it barely works at all. It doesn't violate my parole. You don't need to send me back.'

       'You…,' Judy said, still climbing the stairs slowly, smiling in wonder. 'You… are a wizard. A magical person. Aren't you?'

       The man boggled at her over his shoulder, half turning back to her. 'What d'you mean, then? What you wanna go and tease me for? You trying to rub it in, now that I have to go and live like the blasted Muggles? All it was was a little robbery. I did my time in Azkaban, fair and square. If I keep me nose clean another eight months, I'll even get me wand back. Why you wanna go scarin' me half to death and then teasin' me about being a wiz —'

       The man stopped as he saw the truth in the woman's face. She wasn't teasing him. She had nearly reached him now. The two of them stood in the shadows of the stairwell. She was two steps lower than him and yet her eyes were level with his. The man's watery gaze widened as he realized this was because she was floating several inches in the air, still smiling at him in the darkness.

       'I see it now,' she said, shaking her head in wonderment. 'An entirely magical society, living in secret. How very interestingly preposterous. My, how times have changed. And yet it makes sense now. It is no wonder… but what good fortune that I happened to see you, my friend, and to recognize the strange nature of that cane of yours. What, pray tell, is your name?'

       The man was still trembling, so much that his teeth chattered when he answered. 'Buh-b-b-Blagwell,' he stammered. 'Harvey. Blagwell.'

       'What an unfortunate name,' the woman frowned. 'Tell me, Mr. Blagwell, I wonder if you might be able to help me. I am looking for someone. I've asked so very many people and none of them have been of any assistance to me, although I now understand why. I do so hope you might prove different.'

       Blagwell nodded jerkily, his eyes bulging.

       The woman leaned toward him, floating higher in the air so that she covered him with her shadow. 'Have you ever heard of someone named… James Potter?'

       Blagwell stared up at her, his lips trembling. He made a sort of coughing noise, and then blurted a ragged chuckle. 'P-Potter?' he said, shaking his head as if she was mocking him. 'You… you're kidding, right?'

       Judy's smile grew. It stretched beyond its normal bounds of prettiness, becoming first a grin, and then a