darkening woods swiftly, making very little noise. The wind shifted capriciously in the trees, rustling them, almost as if to cover Merlin's voice.
James went on, 'He said that the Borleys came with you from between the worlds when you returned.'
Merlin's voice was still low and rumbling. 'There is a grain of truth in all fictions, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you know what barnacles are? Disgusting creatures that accumulate on the hulls of ships after a long sea journey. They weigh down the ship and must eventually be removed and destroyed. You may think of the Borleys as the magical equivalent.'
'So they did come back with you?'
'This is so. I have been hard at work hunting them since my return. Most remained near me and were easy to capture. Two followed Mr. Deedle and Mr. Walker. Those I was able to track and capture before either boy became aware of them. Yours, Mr. Potter, was rather wilier. I believe it is the last of them.'
James had been curious about something ever since that day on the train. 'How do you catch them if you can't use magic on them?'
'Old elements, James Potter,' Merlin replied, and his voice had that strange, hypnotic quality that James had last heard when the wizard was talking a confession out of Denniston Dolohov, Ralph's father, last spring. The Forest was becoming quite dark, and James wished again that he could see Merlin's face. He had the creepy sensation that Merlin was talking to him without using an audible voice. Merlin went on, 'Old elements that few in this age even know of, much less understand. I have a very curious bag, a Darkbag, which has nothing in it. When I say that it contains nothing, Mr. Potter, I do not mean that it is merely empty. The bag is full, packed even, with the last remaining relic of pure darkness, left over from the dawn of time. It is into this bag that the Borleys go, for there is only one thing that a creature of shadow needs to exist in, and that is light.'
'Does it kill them?' James asked quietly.
'Nothing can kill a Shade, Mr. Potter. They can only be contained. They remain locked in the Darkbag, starved for magic, desperate for escape, but utterly diminished with no light to define them. The Ministry of Magic has utilized a similar, albeit crude, method for containing Dementors ever since they were deemed untrustworthy as guards of Azkaban. They are sealed in the cellars of their old ward, Azkaban itself, captive in chambers rendered magically lightless. There, their powers are greatly diminished, though not decimated. They howl, Mr. Potter. I am told it is a dreadful sound, and I believe it.'
James shivered. After a minute, he asked, 'So what happens if the Darkbag gets torn open?'
For the first time, Merlin turned. James saw one eye of the wizard looking back at him over his shoulder. Still, he didn't break his stride. 'The Borleys would escape as a swarm, of course, Mr. Potter. Starved for magic, they would attack the first source of magic they found and devour it.'
'D-devour it?' James said. 'But you said they were harmless. Like barnacles.'
'I said that one Borley, in its entry state, was mostly harmless. Many Borleys, some in advanced states, and all desperate from their imprisonment, would be anything but harmless. In the event of the Darkbag's destruction, the barnacles would become piranhas. But this is impossible, Mr. Potter. I am the keeper of the Darkbag, and that means it is utterly safe.'
James sighed. 'Is that the famous Merlin bluster you told me about last year?'
Merlin finally stopped. He turned and squatted, his eyes level with James. He smiled and his eyes twinkled in the rising moonlight. 'No, Mr. Potter,' he said in his normal voice. 'That is the famous Merlin oath you have not yet learned of. You may count on it.'
'Finally,' Ralph said as he and Rose caught up to them. 'A break. Rose, you still have those biscuits? How about a sharesy?'
When they finally reached the castle, Merlin led them straight through the halls and up the spiral staircase to his office. Apart from the enormous desk and the dozens of portraits that lined the walls of the Headmaster's office, the room was unnaturally empty. James glanced around and saw the portraits of Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, his brother's two namesakes. Both portrait frames were, for the moment, unoccupied.
'I wanted to thank you three for your assistance this afternoon,' Merlin said, and he sounded almost hearty now that they had returned. 'Thus, I thought you might like to see my cache opened.'
Rose widened her eyes with interest. 'You're going to show us what's in it?'
'Not precisely, Miss Weasley, although you will certainly see its contents in time. No, I mean that perhaps you might like to see it opened. It is, if I do say so myself, rather a good bit.'
James smiled quizzically. 'Well, sure. If you say so. Let's have a look.'
Merlin seemed pleased. He carefully bent and set the small wooden box on the floor. There was a clasp on the front, holding the lid shut. Merlin lifted the latch and stood back.
Slowly, the lid began to rise. It seemed to lift like a drawer out of the box, sliding upwards much further than the depth of the box should have allowed. There was another drawer embedded in the front of the first drawer. James moved around the box and saw that there were, in fact, drawers on all four sides of the main drawer. The vertical drawer reached man's height and stopped with a shudder. With a soft click, the drawers on all four sides began to roll out. The sides of each new drawer bore yet more drawers. Slowly, they unrolled, each surface revealing more and more compartments. It was beautiful to watch, and yet it boggled the mind. James' eyes seemed to resist what they were seeing. They watered a bit as the box expanded, filling the center of the room. Finally, after about a minute, the drawers stopped. James, Rose, and Ralph walked around the mass of drawers, doors, and complicated locks and hinges.
'That was definitely a good bit,' James said, awed.
'Much better than a pile of trunks,' Rose agreed.
'Wonderful,' Ralph sighed. 'Mysteries and enigmas galore.' He looked pleadingly at James. 'Can we go eat now?'
James grinned. The three students headed toward the door leading out of the Headmaster's office. James was the last to go through, but just as he was leaving, Merlin called his name. James stopped and turned as Ralph and Rose started down the spiral staircase.
'I have returned your subtracted ten points, Mr. Potter, and added ten as well,' Merlin said. 'You did very well in the cavern. You will remember, of course, that secrecy is essential.'
'Sure,' James replied. 'Not a word to anyone.'
Merlin nodded, meeting James at the door. 'Of course,' he said, lowering his voice, 'I do not know precisely what Lord Farrigan said to you while I retrieved the box, but I expect his words would also not bear repeating to anyone within these halls. That includes Mr. Deedle and Miss Weasley. As you know, the dead can be very… persuasive. I'd hate to see any conspiracies take root.'
James looked up at the Headmaster. The big man was like a giant next to him. James nodded slowly. Merlin seemed satisfied.
'Thank you, Mr. Potter,' he said. 'Do enjoy your dinner. You've earned it.'
A moment later, James found himself standing next to the closed door of the Headmaster's office. He looked at it thoughtfully, his brow slightly furrowed.
'Come on, James!' Rose called up. 'The gargoyle says it's cherry posset for dessert tonight! I never get sweets like that at home!'
James shook his head slightly. If Merlin didn't want James to tell Rose and Ralph what the skeleton had said, then there was surely a good reason. But Merlin had only said he shouldn't tell anyone within the halls of Hogwarts. If it came to it, there was technically no reason James couldn't tell his parents, and they could tell whomever they wished, couldn't they? Satisfied with that, James turned and climbed down the spiral staircase to join his friends.
