James Potter and the Hall of the Elders' Crossing

        'Excuse be,' he said in a strangely gurgly voice. Everyone in the class turned except James and Ralph. 'I'b sorry. I dseem to have a dosebleed.' Ralph's nose was, indeed, bubbling blood at an alarming rate. He held his finger beneath it, and it was coated and slimy with blood. There was a chorus of oohs and ahhs from the class, some amused and some disgusted.

        Zane wasted no time. As soon as he heard Ralph and saw that Jackson was turned away, heading up the right side of the classroom, he whipped his wand from his sleeve.

        'Wingardium Leviosa!' he whispered as quietly but as forcefully as he could. The Invisibility Cloak became visible the moment it whipped up, floating off the fake briefcase in the corner. Zane held it there as James fumbled his own wand out. Behind them, they heard Jackson speaking to Ralph.

        'Good heavens, boy, hold still.'

        'I'b sorry,' Ralph stammered. 'I meant to get a cough lozenge and I ate one of thode Weadely Dosebleed Dougats instead. I have to get to the hodpital wing, I thingk.'

        James pointed his wand at the fake briefcase and whispered the Levitation Charm. The case was much heavier than anything James had levitated before, and he wasn't very good at it under the best of circumstances. The case scuttled on the floor, dragging by a corner. He moved it as close to the real case as possible, knocking the real case aside and partially under the desk. He gasped, and then caught his breath. Behind him, the students were laughing and making disgusted noises.

        'Good grief, you don't need the hospital wing,' Jackson said, becoming annoyed. 'Just stand still and move your finger.'

        Ralph began to sway on his feet. 'I thingk I'b a hemophebian!' he yelled. That had been Zane's idea.

        'You're not a hemophiliac,' Jackson growled. 'Now for the last time, hold still!'

James flicked his wand, trying to move the real case around the fake one. It was imperative that he move it into the corner and hide it under the Invisibility Cloak Zane was still levitating. The real case was stuck, however, wedged under a corner of the desk. James concentrated mightily. The briefcase levitated under the desk, pushing the corner of the desk up with it. James grimaced, lowering his wand, and both the case and the desk clunked to the floor. Nobody seemed to notice. Zane was looking at James, wild-eyed. James made a grimace of helplessness. Desperately, Zane made to lower the Invisibility Cloak onto the real case where it was, wedged under the desk. Somehow, however, the cloak had also become snagged, caught on a coat-hook next to the chalkboard. Nothing was going as planned. If anyone turned around now, there would be no hope of covering their tracks. James couldn't resist glancing around. Ralph's nose was still pattering blood. Jackson was half squatted in front of him, one hand on Ralph's arm, trying to pull Ralph's finger away from his nose, the other holding the hickory wand at the ready. The entire class was watching in various shades of amusement and revulsion.

        'Drat it, boy, you're making a mess. Move your finger, I tell you,' Jackson exclaimed.

        James tried to free the real briefcase by working it back and forth with his wand. He was sweating and his wand hand was slick. The case finally came free just as James heard Jackson say 'Artemisae.'

        'Oh!' Ralph said, rather unnecessarily loudly. 'There, yes, that's much better.'

        'It'd have been better a minute ago if you'd have listened to me,' Jackson said crossly, poking his wand back into his sleeve. The scene was over. Zane gave a final yank on his wand. The Invisibility Cloak popped loose from the coat-hook and dropped to the floor in a heap, which promptly vanished. James had no time to hide the briefcase. He sensed the class turning back toward the front of the room.

        'Please go and wash yourself, young man,' Jackson was saying, his voice becoming louder as he dismissed Ralph and turned toward the front of the room. 'You're an awful sight. People will think you've been mauled by a quintaped.' Under his breath, he added, 'Nosebleed Nougat…'

        Desperately, James stashed his wand back up his sleeve. Zane, in an act of pure split-second inspiration, shot his legs forward from underneath the desk. He grasped the real briefcase between his ankles, then yanked it back beneath his own desk. James heard the scuffling as Zane tried to stuff the case beneath his chair using only his feet. Jackson stopped next to Zane and the room became very quiet.

        James tried not to look up. He had the strongest sensation that the professor was looking down at him. Finally, helplessly, he raised his eyes. Jackson was indeed looking down the length of his nose, his gaze moving thoughtfully between Zane and James. James' stomach plummeted. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jackson continued to the front of the room.

        'Honestly,' he said to the class in general, 'the lengths some of you will go to skip a class. It astounds someone even as cynical as myself. At any rate, where were we, then? Ah yes…'

        The class wore on. James refused to meet Jackson's eyes. His only hope was to get out of the classroom as quickly as possible. There was no way to collect either the real briefcase or the Invisibility Cloak while Jackson was still there. Just possibly, however, Jackson wouldn't see his own case stuffed beneath Zane's chair. Everything rested, of course, on the effectiveness of Zane's Visum-ineptio charm. James looked down at the false briefcase, sitting on the floor approximately where the real one had been. To his eye, it looked completely fake, its leather a different color and its brass plate reading 'HIRAM & BLATTWOTT'S LEATHERS, DIAGON ALLEY, LONDON', instead of 'T. H. Jackson'. Jackson had obviously sensed something. But if the charm worked, there was still the slightest chance they could pull it off.

Class finally concluded. James jumped up, herding Zane ahead of him. Zane shot him a look of pure consternation, his eyes darting toward the base of his chair, but James pushed him onward, shaking his head minutely. The class pressed toward the door, and James and Zane, having been seated in the front row, were stuck at the rear of the small throng. James was terrified to look back. Finally, the wall of shoulders and backpacks broke apart and James and Zane tumbled into the hallway.

        'What're we going to do?' Zane whispered frantically as they trotted down the corridor.

        'We'll come back later,' James said, struggling to keep his voice low and calm. 'Maybe he won't see anything. He was packing up the essays when we left. If we just hang back here around the corner, we can watch--'

        'Mr. Potter?' a voice said imperiously from behind them. 'Mr. Walker?'

        The two boys stopped in their tracks. They turned very slowly. Professor Jackson was leaning out of the door of the Technomancy classroom. 'I believe you two may have left something in my classroom. Would you care to come collect it?'

        Neither answered. They walked heavily back the way they had come. Jackson disappeared into the classroom again and was waiting behind the front desk when they got there.

        'Come closer, boys,' Jackson said in a breezy voice. 'Just right here, in front of the desk, if you please.' Placed on the desk in front of Jackson were both the real and fake briefcases. When James and Zane got to the front of the desk, Jackson spoke again, this time in a low, cold voice.

        'I don't know who's been telling you stories about what I keep in my attache, but I can assure the both of you that yours is neither the first nor even the most creative attempt to find out for certain.' James raised his eyebrows in surprise and Jackson nodded at him. 'Yes, I have heard the tales that some of my students have invented. Stories of horrible dormant beasts, or doomsday weapons, or keys to alternate dimensions, each more terrible and mind-boggling than the last. Let me assure you, though, my terminally curious, little friends…' Here, Jackson leaned over his desk, bringing his nose less than a foot from the two boys' faces. He lowered his voice further and spoke very clearly, 'That which I keep hidden in my attache is far, far worse than even your fevered imaginings can contrive. This is not a joke. I am not making idle threats. If you attempt to meddle with my affairs