James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper

wand from his robes. 'All sides have been chosen. He senses you are here; he comes now, flying like the wind. But there is something you must do first.'

        And Albus handed the Tabitha shape his wand.

        Even knowing this was a dream, James tried to cry out, to warn Albus, but his lips wouldn't obey him. He could do nothing but watch. The Tabitha shape raised Albus' wand, pointing it toward the sky. She sniffed, and her shoulders hitched as if she were crying. Then, without warning, there was a burst of green light and an awful hiss. The stooped man with the shovel looked up first, and then so did the Tabitha shape. Albus didn't raise his eyes. Finally, James found he could look up. Spreading overhead was a bright, shimmering shape. It was a huge green skull, its mouth open. Out of the skull's mouth poured a leering snake, its jaw unhinged and menacing. The eerie glow of the Dark Mark lit the entire graveyard. On one of the nearer headstones, James saw his and his sister's names. His blood chilled even though he knew these were the names of his dead grandparents.

        There was a loud crack, and another figure appeared, wand already out and pointing.

        'Stop!' the figure cried, and James thought the voice sounded oddly familiar. 'Both of you! I know what you think you have to do, but it doesn't have to be this way! Albus, don't let it end like this!'

        'Do it,' Albus said, but James couldn't tell if he was speaking to the newcomer or the Tabitha shape.

        'No!' the newcomer cried, and there was an edge of desperation in his voice. 'The rest are coming, and they won't waste time on words! We only have a few seconds! Albus, don't be a fool!'

        'I'm sorry,' Albus said, still looking at the Tabitha shape. He nodded slowly to her. She lowered the wand, aiming it at him.

        The newcomer stepped forward, crying the name of the Tabitha shape, appealing to her. 'Please don't! This isn't who you really are!'

        'You're right, James,' the Tabitha shape said quietly, almost sadly. 'As of tonight, I will be known by an entirely different name.'

        There was an ears-splitting cry and a blast of light, obliterating everything. James fell into that light, struggling to maintain the dream, but it broke apart like glass, like a scene glimpsed in a shattering mirror.

        James woke up, panting and slick with sweat. He scrambled to a sitting position on his bed, his heart pounding. The phantom scar on his forehead throbbed so hard he thought it must split his skull open. He clapped a hand to it, hissing through his teeth. After a minute, the pain began to recede, but very slowly. When he could bring himself to do it, James turned to sit on the side of his bed. He opened his satchel in the darkness and rooted inside, searching for his quill and a bit of parchment. Finally, just as the sweat on his body began to cool in the midnight air of the dormitory, he leaned over his bedside table and scribbled three words. He stared at his own handwriting in the moonlight. It didn't make any sense. Probably it was meaningless. It had only been a dream, and not at all like the other dreams his phantom scar had induced. But it had been wrong in some fundamental, very worrying way. For reasons he couldn't bring himself to admit, he felt that it was important to remember it.

        Finally, now shivering, James folded himself back into his covers. He had no idea what time it was. Tomorrow was the official performance of The Triumvirate, and after that, the last week of school. Somewhere out there, perhaps not far away, the Gatekeeper was lurking, waiting for its human host. And here, inside the very same walls, was that host, preparing herself for the task that would make her worthy. And somehow, in some way, James was meant to stop it all from happening. Your father's battle is over, the dryad had said, yours begins. They were not comforting words, but they were the words that rang over and over in his head, following him as he descended, slowly, into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

        Nearby, Scorpius Malfoy lay awake, watching, not speaking or moving. When he was certain that James had finally drifted back into sleep, he slid out of his own bed. Tiptoeing, he crossed the room, passing before the window and casting his shadow over James. Scorpius leaned over carefully, squinting. He didn't have his glasses, but the moonlight was very bright and Scorpius could just make out James' handwritten words. He scowled at them for a long time, unmoving in the moonlight. Finally, Scorpius made his way back to his own bed.

        Unlike James, Scorpius did not sleep for the rest of the night.

        'Today's the big day!' Noah proclaimed, plopping into a seat next to James at the breakfast table. 'Eat up, 'Treus'. Can't have you fainting onstage, can we? After all, you don't have an understudy.'

        James groaned. The tables seemed unusually crowded this morning since some of the families planning to attend the performance had arrived the evening before. Ralph's dad, Denniston Dolohov, sat with him at the Slytherin table, smiling uncertainly at the noisome throng. Noah's own parents sat at the head of the Gryffindor table with Steven, his brother.

        'Shouldn't you be sitting with your family?' James asked grumpily.

        'Bad luck, mate,' Noah said wisely, tapping the side of his nose. 'None of the family are supposed to see you before the performance. S'tradition, isn't it?'

        Sabrina shook her head, wobbling the quill that was stuck in her red hair. 'You're thinking of weddings, you prat. Grooms and brides aren't supposed to see each other.'

        'Well, where do you think they got the idea?' Noah asked around a mouthful of toast. 'After all, what's a wedding but a big real-life performance?'

        'You're not nervous, are you, James?' Sabrina asked, ignoring Noah.

        'I might be, a little,' James admitted. 'I mean, I never expected we'd be packing out the amphitheater. A lot more people are coming than I thought. Seems like everybody's family is going to be here, doesn't it?'

        'My mum's coming,' Sabrina said, nodding. 'And my Uncle Hastur. He went to Hogwarts himself about a hundred years ago and this will be his first time back.'

        Graham piped up, 'Both my parents are coming even though I'm just a page boy. I only have one line, but they act like I'm the star of the whole show.'

        'I wish you were the star of the whole show,' James said, slumping onto his folded arms.

        'Does somebody have a spot of stage fright?' Rose asked brightly, settling into a seat opposite James.

        'He's got it bad,' Noah said, nudging James with his elbow. 'At this rate, he'll be useless by the time the curtains go up. I might have to play both parts! Fortunately, I'm up to it.'

        'Treus and Donovan's swordfight might be a bit of a challenge,' Graham suggested, squinting thoughtfully.

        In an effort to change the subject, James asked, 'Where's Petra this morning? Are her parents coming?'

        'I saw her in the common room this morning,' Noah answered. 'Looked like she was working on her lines still. She was studying something pretty hard. I didn't interrupt her. I assume her family is coming, but she hasn't talked much about it.'

        'I asked her yesterday if her parents were coming,' Sabrina nodded. 'She said she'd be seeing them both tonight. It'll be cool to meet everybody's families, don't you think? The only other time we see them is on platform nine and three-quarters, and that's always so rushed.'

        'Yeah,' Graham said, rolling his eyes. 'Nothing I like more than getting my cheeks pinched by everybody else's grandma.'

        'If only your cheeks weren't so ruddy cute,' Noah said, reaching across the table. Graham batted him away, scowling.

        James found it difficult to concentrate on any of his classes. In fact, with so many parents and family members arriving throughout the day, few professors seemed to expect much from their classes at any rate. Regardless, James was glad of the distractions. He tried very hard to take notes during Divination despite the fact that Professor Trelawney seemed to frown on anything other than practical demonstrations.