JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

       'What?' Ralph frowned. 'I thought you said he wasn't anywhere in that book?'

       'He wasn't,' Zane agreed. 'It was a complete waste of time. Now, my head's all stuffed full of useless names and trivia, and all for nothing. Like, did you know that the wizard who invented the skrim was some crazy dude named Vimrich who was just looking for a way to nap while he was riding his broom? He never got it to work—the flattened broom just kept flipping over and dropping him on the floor—but after he died, some of his nephews found the homemade brooms in his workshop and tried standing up on them. The rest is history.'

       'Fascinating,' James said impatiently. 'Get to the Rowbitz part.'

       'Hey, if I had to learn it, you have to put up with hearing about it,' Zane proclaimed, poking James in the chest. 'But anyway, when I took the book back to the library this morning, I noticed something hanging on the wall. You know how the Vampire girls are always making those charcoal etchings of the gravestones in the school cemetery? Well, a bunch of them are hanging up by the librarian's desk; must have been some kind of class art project or something. The point is, guess whose name showed up on the one right by the return cart?'

       Ralph surprised.

Zane nodded eagerly. 'Right there, plain as day! It was spelled a little different than I expected—R-O-E-bitz, but close enough to play Clutch, as we Zombies say. He was just some old guy from way back in the day, lived and worked here on campus, apparently. Probably he was like Magnussen's servant or gardener or something!'

       ''The Nexus Curtain lies within the eyes of Roebitz,'' James quoted, nodding. 'Maybe the key to the Curtain is buried with the guy!'

       'Oh no,' Ralph raised his hands, palms out. 'I'm not going and digging up any old graves.'

       Zane put an arm around Ralph's shoulders, standing on tiptoes to reach. 'Don't worry, Ralph,' he said soothingly. 'We won't need to dig anybody up, all right?'

       'We won't?' the bigger boy replied skeptically.

       Zane shook his head. 'Nah. I could tell by the etching that it was from a mausoleum. We don't need to dig at all. We just need to pry the door open with a crowbar.'

       'Oh,' Ralph sighed sarcastically. 'Well, that's loads better.'

       Over the following days, James, Ralph, and Zane explored the campus cemetery, which was surprisingly large, huddled in the northwest corner of the campus and surrounded by a tall wroughtiron fence. Fortunately, the main gate was almost always left open, even at night, which meant that they wouldn't have to climb the fence if they had to sneak in by moonlight. After a few attempts, the three finally found the mausoleum belonging to a wizard named Leopold Cromwel Roebitz, which sat embedded in a hill in the shadow of an ancient oak tree. The mausoleum door was made of copper, weathered to a pale green patina. Zane gripped the handle and gave it a tentative tug, but the door didn't budge.

       'Well, so much for Plan A,' he said, nodding. 'Door's locked. Anyone want to try an Unlocking Spell? How about you, Ralphinator? You're the spellmeister of the group.'

       Ralph grimaced, but produced his wand. He leveled its lime green tip at the door. 'Alohomora,' he said tentatively.

       There was a golden flash, but the door remained firmly closed. Zane yanked the handle once more to no avail.

       'I guess that means Plan C, eh?' James said.

       Ralph asked hopefully, 'Can't we just try it now?'

       'And risk getting hauled into the office as vandals?' Zane replied, batting Ralph on the shoulder. 'Trust me, it's one thing to get caught hexing your name onto a statue. Messing around with the dead means a whole different kind of trouble. You saw how serious they took it when Magnussen was stealing bodies to dissect them.'

       Ralph sighed. 'Fine. But if we have to do this at night, I'm not going inside. I'll be waiting right here next to this old tree while you two go bumping around with the skeletons. Got it?'

       James agreed. 'Wouldn't have it any other way, Ralph.'

       It was the following weekend before the three boys could summon the courage to make the nighttime trek to the cemetery. Even Zane, whose audacity normally seemed to be limitless, appeared jumpy about the endeavor. On Saturday night, James and Ralph stayed up late in the game room of Apollo Mansion, playing ping pong and enduring the constant critiques of Heckle and Jeckle. Finally, when the grandfather clock in the corner struck midnight, the boys crept up the stairs and eased open the front door. They looked at each other, standing between the coldness of the night and the warmth of the hall behind them.

       'You up for this, Ralph?' James asked in a whisper.

       'No,' Ralph admitted. 'But we're going to do it anyway, right?'

       James nodded and gulped. 'Remember why we're doing it. It's for a good cause. We can't let Petra take the blame for something she didn't do. We have to find the people who really broke into the Hall of Archives and attacked the Vault of Destinies.'

       Ralph shook his head. 'But… we saw her, James. What makes you so sure that it wasn't really her?'

       In the past, James would have felt angry about such a question, but he knew Ralph better now. He knew that Ralph was a pragmatist. Besides, Ralph didn't feel the same way about Petra that James did. He didn't know what James knew.

       'Because she told me,' James said simply, meeting his friend's gaze. After a moment, he added, 'When we were on the ship, Dad told me that the best thing I could do for Petra was to be her friend. Friends trust one another, and that's what I am doing for her. Do you trust me?'

       Ralph shrugged. 'Sometimes,' he answered seriously. 'But mostly I just back your plays. That's the best way I know how to be a friend. That's what tonight's about. I hope that's good enough.'

       James smiled despite the cold and stillness of the night. Slowly, he pulled the door of Apollo Mansion closed behind them. 'That's more than good enough, Ralph. Come on.'

       As James and Ralph stole into the darkness, they found the campus eerily quiet, covered in low, creeping tendrils of fog. The air was so cold that James immediately began to shiver. Overhead, the half moon shone brightly, covering the lawns and footpaths with its bony light.

'Over there,' Ralph whispered, his breath making puffs of mist in the air. 'Is that Zane hunkered down by the Octosphere?'

       In answer, a poor imitation of an owl echoed across the dark lawn. James rolled his eyes.

       'You didn't do the countersign,' Zane rasped as James and Ralph ran to join him. 'I hoot, you bray like wolves. We practiced it this afternoon.'

       'And I told you then,' James whispered, looking about at the empty campus, 'we're in a time bubble in the middle of major American city. There aren't any wolves for miles and centuries in every direction!'

       'There would've been if you'd have done the countersign,' Zane groused.

       'Did you bring the Grint?' James asked, glancing at the blonde boy.