'He's probably up there putting the Cruciatus Curse on some spiders even now,' Graham replied.
'Stop it, all of you,' Petra said. 'You're as bad as they are. There's a very good reason that the Sorting Hat sent him here. Give him a chance to prove it.'
'It was just a joke, Petra,' Graham muttered. 'Hugo did worse to me at least once a week last year.'
Gradually, the babble of voices returned to the room. Damien and Sabrina went back to their strange, hushed work. Rose leaned over to James.
'Do you think Petra's right?' she asked quietly. 'Do you think he really does belong in Gryffindor?'
James thought back to last year when Ralph had gotten sorted into Slytherin. James had been certain that it had been a mistake. Now, knowing more about Ralph, he saw that the Hat might have known best after all.
He answered Rose, 'Hagrid says the Hat knows what it's doing. I mean, you can't fool the Sorting Hat, can you?'
Rose didn't seem convinced. 'Somebody fooled the Goblet of Fire, back in our parents' day. Anything's possible.'
'But why would he want to come to Gryffindor?'
Rose shrugged. 'I just hope he really is the real thing. Because if he's not, things are going to get very ugly. Especially after tonight.'
'What's that mean?' James asked suspiciously.
Rose ignored him. 'Why don't you run up and check on him?'
'Blimey, Rose! First, Cousin Lucy guilts me about how I'm supposed to look after Albus, now you want me to go nursemaid Scorpius-bleeding-Malfoy?'
'Just do it, James. By the time you come back, I bet Damien and Sabrina will be done and it'll be time to go.'
'Sheesh,' James said, climbing to his feet. 'I'd never have pegged you for fancying the bad boy type.'
'I don't fancy him,' she frowned. 'Just make sure he's going to be busy up there for a while, why don't you?'
James grumbled to himself as he crossed to the boys' dormitory stairs.
'It's just James. Don't stun me or anything,' he called up as he climbed the steps. To his surprise, he found Scorpius in the second years' dormitory rather than the first years'. 'Hey! That's my bed!'
James stopped at the top of the staircase, pointing. Scorpius had shoved James' trunk aside haphazardly and put his own trunk at the foot of the bed. He glanced up dismissively as he unpacked his things.
'Is it really?' Scorpius replied indolently. 'Does it have your name on it?'
'As a matter of fact, it bloody well does,' James exclaimed. 'I carved it right there on the headboard plain as the nose on your pasty white face!'
'Where?' Scorpius said, squinting at the headboard. He produced his wand from his robes and aimed it lazily with his wrist. A flash of purple light burst across the head of the bed. When it was gone, James' name had vanished, buried under an ugly black burn mark. 'I don't see it. Maybe you're a bit confused.'
Scorpius turned, looking about the room. He pointed his wand again, producing another flash of purple light.
'There,' he said, turning back to his trunk. 'Now that bed has your name on it. Happy?'
James stalked over to a bed on the opposite side of the room. Glowing purple letters were scrawled across the headboard. In gothic script, they spelled 'WHINY POTTER GIT'.
'Look, you can't just…,' James began, and then stopped, leaning in toward the letters. 'And how'd you even do that? That was a nonverbal spell!'
'Is this better?' Scorpius asked, pointing his wand once more. 'Mobiliarcha.'
James' trunk shot across the floor, barely missing his legs. It struck the bed and burst open, belching half of James' things. Scorpius grinned crookedly as he levitated his books out of his own trunk. He floated them neatly into position on the windowsill.
James spluttered, 'Look, Malfoy, this isn't even your dorm! You're a first year! You can't just move in wherever you want!'
'Seems that the first years' dorm is unusually full this year,' Malfoy replied without looking at James. 'My fellow first year Gryffindors informed me that I'd have to find lodging elsewhere. Frankly, I don't care where I stay in this benighted tower, but if my being here annoys you, then I believe I'll stay. If you don't like it, speak to the headmaster. He's a mate of yours, after all, isn't he?'
'They were just winding you up, you prat,' James exclaimed hopelessly.
'Is it time for the sing-along yet?' Scorpius asked, finally glancing at James and pocketing his wand. 'Or did you just come up to see how a wizard unpacks?'
James turned on his heels and tramped angrily down the stairs.
'If whatever you have in mind has anything to do with Malfoy,' he said as he plopped back into the chair near the table, 'it's probably too nice.'
'That's the spirit,' Damien replied without looking up from his parchment. James peered at it. He could see that Damien and Sabrina were drawing something, but it was covered in arrows, geometric scribbles, and scrawled notes.
'We can thank old Professor Stonewall for this one,' Noah grinned. 'Who says Technomancy has no practical purpose? Come on, it's time.'
'If we still had your dad's Cloak, we wouldn't need a lookout,' Damien explained reasonably. 'But since we don't, that's your job.'
Sabrina was virtually bouncing with excitement. The quill in her thick hair wobbled. 'I'm going down to the landing,' she announced quietly. 'Catch up as soon as you can. You have to do the scriptey part.'
Damien nodded. Noah, Rose, Petra, and Sabrina darted down the stairs at the end of the corridor.
James sighed. 'Fine, I'm the lookout. What do I do if somebody comes?'
'All right, this is your story: you were going to the bathroom and you got lost,' Damien replied. 'Pretend that you're doubled over with the runs or something. Groan a lot, really loud. We'll hear you and know someone is coming.'
James was appalled. 'That is so wrong on so many levels! For one thing, I'm a second-year! How is it I got lost on the way to the bathroom?'
'Use your imagination,' Damien said blandly. 'Maybe you have to go so bad that you're delirious or something. Just be sure to groan really loud so we can hear you.'
James opened his mouth to protest but Damien was already trotting down the stairs as lightly as he could. Resigning himself to his duty, James leaned against the wall and watched. He still didn't know what the Gremlins were up to, but he knew it had something to do with the new Heracles window. That was what Rose had meant when she'd said they couldn't have done it without him. He had broken that window last year, knocking a Muggle intruder through it during a midnight chase. Filch had fumed that there'd be no way to replace the window, and he'd been right. Fortunately, magic being what it is, it wasn't necessary to manufacture a perfect duplicate. The school had simply procured a special kind of stained glass window with magically imprintable glass. Petra explained that the window could be charmed so that the glass represented any desired pattern. Filch, being rather a traditionalist, had seen to it that the window represented the old Heracles window right down to the crack in Heracles' right little finger.
