glancing down toward the professor's feet. The black leather case had apparently come slightly open when he'd set it down. Its brass catches glinted. No one else seemed to have noticed except for James and Professor Jackson. Jackson resumed reaching for his case, slowly, clicking it closed with one large, knobby-knuckled hand. James had only a narrow glimpse into the case. It appeared to be stuffed with folds of some rich, dark cloth. Jackson straightened, picking the case back up, and as he did so, he glanced at James, his stony face grim. James tried to glance away, but it was too late. Jackson knew he'd seen, even if he didn't know what it was.
Without a word, Jackson strode back up the aisle, moving with that purposeful, sweeping gait that looked so much like an old battleship under full sail, and then turned into the hall without looking back.
'Thank you for your patience,' Franklyn said to the class, adjusting his glasses. 'Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts. By now, most of you know my name, and many of you, I assume, know something of my history. Just to get some of the obvious questions out of the way: Yes, I am that Benjamin Franklin. No, I didn't actually invent electricity for the Muggles, but I did give them a small push in the right direction. Yes, I was a part of the American Continental Congress, although for obvious reasons, I was not one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. At that time, I used two different spellings of my name, only one of which was known to the Muggle world, which made it easier for me to know which correspondences to open first. Yes, I realize my face graces the American one hundred dollar bill. No, contrary to popular myth, I do not carry sheets of uncut hundreds around to snip out and sign for admirers. Yes, I am indeed quite old, and yes, this is accomplished through means of magic, although I assure you that those means are a lot more mundane and prosaic than many have assumed. Emphatically no, I am not immortal. I am a very, very old man who has aged rather well with a little help. Does that cover most of the obvious questions?' Franklyn finished with a wry smile, surveying the remarkably full classroom. There was a murmur of assent.
'Excellent. Onward and upward then. And please,' Franklyn continued, opening a very large book on his desk, 'let us avoid any 'it's all about the Benjamins' jokes. They weren't funny two hundred years ago and they are even less funny now, thank you.'
Crossing the grounds on their way to dinner in the Great Hall, James and Ralph were passing Hagrid's cabin when they noticed the ribbon of smoke coming out of the chimney. James broke into a grin, called Ralph to follow, and ran up to the front door.
'James!' Hagrid bellowed, opening the door. He threw his arms around the boy, completely engulfing him. Ralph's eyes widened and he took a step backwards, looking Hagrid up and down. 'So good to have a Potter back in school. How's yer mum an' dad, an' li'l Albus an' Lily?'
'Everybody's fine, Hagrid. Where've you been?'
Hagrid stepped out, closing the door behind him. They followed him as he crossed the grounds toward the castle. 'Up the mountains meetin' with the giants, that's where. Grawp and me, we go every year, don't we? Spreadin' goodwill an' tryin' to keep 'em all honest, for whatever it's worth. Stayed a li'l longer this year on account o' li'l Grawpy findin' himself a girlfriend. Who's yer mate here, James?'
James, momentarily distracted by the thought of Hagrid's half-brother, who was a full giant, performing mating rituals with a mountain giantess, had completely forgotten about Ralph. 'Oh! This is my friend, Ralph Deedle. He's a first year, like me. Hagrid, are you telling us Grawp's in love?'
Hagrid grew vaguely misty. 'Aww, it's sweet to see the li'l fella and his lady friend together. Why, they're both just as happy as a pair of hippogriffs in a henhouse. Giant courtships are very delicate things, yeh know.'
Ralph was having some difficulty keeping up with the conversation. 'Grawp, your brother, is a giant?'
'Well, sure,' Hagrid boomed happily. 'He's only a li'l one. Sixteen feet or so. Yeh should see his lady friend. She's from the Crest-Dweller's tribe, twenty-two feet if she's an inch. Not my type of girl, o' course, but Grawpy's just smitten by her. Not surprising, really, since the first step in any giant courtship is smitin' the mate over the head with a big hunk of tree trunk. She laid the li'l fella right out cold for the best part of a day. After that, he's been as google-eyed as a pup.'
James was afraid to ask, and suspected he knew the answer. 'Did Grawp bring his girlfriend back home with him?'
Hagrid looked taken aback. 'Well, sure he did. This is his home, now, isn't it? He'll make a good wife of her, once they're done a-courtin'. She's made herself a nice little hovel up in the hills behind the forest. Grawp's there now, helpin' her settle in, I expect.'
James tried to imagine Grawp helping a twenty-two-foot giantess 'settle in', but his exhausted imagination shut down. He shook his head, attempting to clear it.
'I hear your dad's comin' in for a meetin' next week, James,' Hagrid said as they entered the shadow of the main gates. 'Havin' a meetin' of the minds with the muckety-mucks from across the pond, eh?'
James puzzled over Hagrid's terminology. 'If you say so.'
'Ahh, it'll be nice to have yer dad over for tea again, just like old times. Only without all the secrecy and adventure. Did I tell yeh about the time yer dad and Ron and Hermione helped my Norbert escape?'
'Only about a hundred times, Hagrid,' James laughed, pulling open the door of the Great Hall. 'But don't worry, it changes a little every time I hear it.'
Later, when dinner was almost over, James approached Hagrid where he thought they could have a more private conversation. 'Hagrid, can I ask you a, sort of, official question?'
'O' course yeh can. I can't guarantee I'll know the answer, but I'll do my best.'
James glanced around and saw Ralph sitting at the Slytherin table on the edge of Tabitha Corsica's group. She was talking seriously, her pretty face lit in the candlelight and the deepening light of the dusky ceiling. 'Do people ever get, I don't know, sorted wrong? Is it possible that the Hat could make a mistake and put somebody in the wrong house?'
Hagrid sat down heavily on a nearby bench, making it groan appreciably. 'Well, I can't say as I've ever heard of it happ'nin' before,' he said. 'Some people may not like where they're placed, but that doesn't mean it's not a good fit. It might mean they just aren't happy with who they really are. What is it yer worried about, James?'
'Oh, it's not me I'm thinking of,' James said hurriedly, taking his eyes off Ralph so as not to implicate him. 'It's just a, sort of, you know, general question. I was just wondering.'
Hagrid smiled crookedly and clapped James on the back, making him stumble half a step. 'Just like your dad, yeh are. Always lookin' out for other people when yeh ought to be watchin' your own step. It'll get yeh in hot water if yeh aren't careful, just like it did him!' He chuckled, making a sound like loose rocks in a fast river. The thought seemed to bring Hagrid a great deal of hearty pleasure. 'Nah, the Sorting Hat knows what it's up to, I expect. Everything'll come out all right. Yeh wait and see.'
But as James walked back to his table, making eye contact with Ralph for a moment as he passed the Slytherins, he wondered.
