James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper

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        'I would have it no other way,' Slytherin answered. 'Without the Beacon Stone, you might not even gain the attention of the Gatekeeper. However…'

        Merlin waited silently, but James, still sitting in the dark of the laboratory, could sense the great wizard simmering, his rage all but smoking off his skin.

        Slytherin went on. 'The stone is far too powerful to be removed from the earth entirely. Knowing this day might come, however, I have arranged for it to be split into two equal pieces. The halves have been set into two rings. One ring will go with you; the other will stay with me.'

        'You cannot deceive me, Slytherin,' Merlin rumbled. 'You wish to maintain control of the Gatekeeper upon hope of its descent. You wish to use it to exact revenge upon your enemies. You and they will be long dead by that time.'

        Slytherin laughed lightly. 'It isn't of any consequence to you, my friend. My half of the stone will remain, regardless of my own short time upon this earth. It will be passed on. When and if you do return, signaling the descent of the Curse, the stone will find its way into the hands of my descendents. I merely wish for them to be prepared. It is only fair, don't you agree? Besides,' Slytherin went on, his voice dropping, 'if you do decide to abandon your course and thwart the Gatekeeper, well, are you not Merlinus the Terrible, the last of the line of Myrddred? Are you not the greatest sorcerer of all the ages? Surely, such a creature as you does not require the use of a mere 'dark trinket'.'

        Merlin was silent again, and James sensed him simmering. Finally, he said, 'As you wish, Slytherin. Provide me my half of the stone and I will take my leave of this place.'

        There came the sound of a drawer opening, and then the clunk of a small box. A long silence followed.

        'I could simply take both halves of the stone from you, my 'friend',' Merlin said quietly. 'After all, am I not Merlinus the Terrible?'

        'You forget the conditions of your lamentable bargain with Hadyn,' Slytherin replied. There was the clunk of a box closing. 'You are unable to touch the hair of anyone residing within this castle. Your threats are formidable, but fortunately, they are to no effect here. I do, however, appreciate the sentiment of it. You may consider it returned.'

        The floor creaked as Merlin stood. James saw the shadows change in the room as Merlin prepared to leave. A figure suddenly blocked the view through the opening in the double doors. It was Slytherin. He opened the doors slightly and peered in at James. A thoughtful look crossed his face. His eyes narrowed.

        'And by the way, Merlinus,' he said, not taking his eyes off of James, 'if you do return in a future age, beware of enemies. Your disappearance will certainly be legend. Some will be looking for you, and not all will intend to welcome you.'

        'I am quite accustomed to dealing with enemies,' Merlin's voice replied, echoing from the depths of the room beyond.

        'Nevertheless, if you should come across a certain young man… brown-eyed, with short, unkempt raven hair and a look of constant insolence, beware of him. He is your enemy. I have divined it. You must dispose of him.'

        'I dispose of no one without just cause,' Merlin growled. 'Regardless of your divinations. And even those who deserve such disposal occasionally slip through my grasp.'

        'Whereas some who don't deserve it still fall under its judgment,' Slytherin declared coldly, as if twisting a knife. 'But suit yourself, Merlinus. Watch for the boy. Or ignore him at your peril. I care not which.'

        A moment later, there came a burst of warm air and a smell of dirt and growing things. Merlin was gone. Slytherin bared his teeth at James.

        'You said history had gotten it right about me,' he said, grinning viciously. 'Somehow, I don't believe history will even know your name, my young friend.'

11. THE CIRCLE OF NINE

With a deft flourish, Slytherin threw a black cloth over the oval mirror on the easel. James cringed, fearing he'd vanish the moment his reflection was hidden. Slytherin gave him a disdainful look.

        'Obviously, the mirror would be useless as a prison if the inmate could not be released by the jailor, you fool,' he said. 'Had you attempted it yourself, your fears would have come true, but if the mirror is covered by someone else, you are safe. You see? Even now, I am the consummate teacher, and you the reluctant pupil. Come to me, my friend.'

        James shook his head, pressing his lips together stubbornly.

        Slytherin sighed wearily. 'I'm not going to hurt you, boy. I merely require you to stand with me so that we may Disapparate together.'

        'You can't Disapparate inside Hogwarts,' James replied. 'Everybody knows that.'

        'I don't know who this 'everybody' is that you speak of, but I am beginning to suspect that the Hogwarts you believe you know is not the Hogwarts we currently occupy. Now come here.'

        James tightened his grip on the arms of the ladder-back chair. 'I'm not going anywhere with you.'

        'You wish to get to the bottom of this misunderstanding, do you not?' Slytherin asked. 'We both want the same thing, my young friend. Now come.'

        As Slytherin said the last word, he flicked his wand. The ladder-back chair leapt off the floor, taking James with it. It soared toward Slytherin, and then dumped James onto the floor in front of him. James scrambled to his feet, staring angrily up at the bald wizard.

        'Why don't you just Imperio me, you big bully?' James spat.

        'That is an Unforgivable Curse,' Slytherin said, tilting his head in mock dismay. 'I am a teacher at this fine establishment. As such, I obey the law of the land. I may not always agree with those laws, but nonetheless...'

        Slytherin held out his hand.

        James stared at it, frowning furiously. He knew that if he didn't obey Slytherin, the man would just force him to comply somehow. Something inside James determined that he'd rather walk into whatever awaited him than be carried to it. With that, he looked up into the wizard's cold eyes, and then took the proffered hand.

        There was a sudden, dizzying sense of speed and darkness. The floor seemed to fall away from James' feet. A split second later, another surface materialized beneath him. James stumbled on it, and Slytherin let him go with a shove, driving him to his knees.

        'No Disapparition,' Slytherin said scornfully, stalking away. 'No useful spells, no understanding of cunning or resourcefulness. I know not where you come from or who you are, my young friend, but whoever sent you must have been truly desperate.'

        James collected himself and stood, struggling with a sort of residual dizziness. Wherever Slytherin had taken him, it was very dark and cool. Wind blew fretfully, pushing a rafter of clouds overhead. The moon seemed unusually close. Its frosty glow illuminated the round, recessed floor of this strange place. James glanced around. The space was circular, with stone terraces leading down to a central wooden floor. On either side of this, two marble thrones faced each other. James' heart sank. He'd been here once before, in his own time.

        'You seem to know much about us,' Slytherin said, raising his voice over the moan of the wind. 'Therefore, you must know the purpose of the Sylvven Tower. Its height, they say, places it outside the realm of the laws of men. Here, there is no such thing as an Unforgivable Curse. Here, my young friend, anything can