JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

silently through the library's upper levels, winging toward their shelves.

       It made perfect sense. That was the most dreadful part. The passage in the encyclopedia was like the center piece of a puzzle, the one that brought all the separate bits together and formed the full picture. As incredible as it seemed—as completely gut-wrenchingly unbelievable as it would appear to any sane observer— Petra Morganstern… was a sorceress.

       James shook his head slowly, barely able to grasp the concept.

       He remembered the first time he had met Petra, back on his first night at Hogwarts. Ted had introduced her to him along with the rest of the Gremlins. She had seemed merely pretty and smart then, the perfect foil for the brash insolence of the rest of the Gremlins. James had had classes with her throughout that year. In all honesty, he had begun, even then, to feel the faintest stirrings of romantic magnetism toward her. Most assuredly, there was something unique about her— something rare and slightly dark, both inspiring and solemn. Even so, how could this slight, smart girl—the one with the tendency to suck thoughtfully on the ends of her raven-dark hair and doodle dancing elves in the margins of her textbooks—how could that girl possibly be something so powerful, so rare, and so potentially frightening as a sorceress?

       And yet, of course, James knew it was true. It had to be true. Everything pointed to it, from the mysteries surrounding her last day at Morganstern Farm to the amazing magic she seemed to perform without any wand to the strange silver thread that had appeared when she'd fallen from the back of the Gwyndemere—conjured by James, but drawn, apparently, from her own power.

       Merlin, of course, was a sorcerer. Was that why he was so interested in Petra? Was that why he was worried about what she might do? Was she his equal? His opposite?

       James shuddered, violently, and the encyclopedia nearly fell off his lap. Instinctively, he grabbed at it and then closed it with a soft thump.

       For the first time, seriously, he wondered if Petra really had been involved in the attack on the Vault of Destinies. Thus far, James had been able to convince himself that it couldn't really have been her that he'd seen on that night coming out of the Archive alongside the creepy woman in the black robes. He'd convinced himself that it had to have been a trick—someone using Polyjuice Potion, for instance, or perhaps even a Visum-ineptio charm. But what if none of that was true? What if Petra really was in league with the mysterious dark woman, and had been lying all along about her innocence? Worse, what if the Morgan part of Petra's mind, the part influenced by the final shred of Lord Voldemort's soul, had broken free of the mental prison that Petra had erected for it—the black castle in her dreams—and had taken over somehow?

       What if James, Ralph, and Zane succeeded in breaking through to the World Between the Worlds only to find irrefutable proof that it had been Petra (Morgan) who had broken into the Hall of Archives, cursed Mr. Henredon, and then stolen the crimson thread from the foreign dimension's Vault of Destinies? What then? Would the courts send Petra to wizarding prison?

       Perhaps even worse, would they be unable to?

       For one bright, horrible moment, James envisioned the dark-haired girl (Petra/Morgan) walking resolutely down the center of a broad road, peppered with green Killing Curses and yet unfazed, her brow lowered in cold fury, her eyes flashing black sparks and lightning crackling between her clawed fingertips.

       She's not evil, he told himself resolutely. It was almost a mantra, an incantation. In his deepest heart, he both believed it utterly and doubted it hopelessly. The friction between the two warring convictions was nearly overwhelming, almost like a breaking heart.

       'Petra's not evil,' he whispered, his eyes wide and bright in the darkness of the library aisle. 'She's just…' He cut himself off with a gasp, realizing what he was about to say. Suddenly, he felt very cold, chilled nearly to the bone. This time, when the encyclopedia tried to slide off of his crossed legs, James let it. He barely even noticed.

       She's not evil, he thought helplessly. She's just… misinformed.

       Like Eve. Just misinformed.

       'What's with you, James?' Zane asked the following Thursday as the three left Cursology class and made their way into a bright, warm afternoon.

       James hefted his books and squinted into the sunlight. 'Nothing. Why?'

       'You've been all quiet lately,' Zane pressed. 'Even Ralph's noticed.'

       Ralph nodded. 'S'true. You didn't even show up for Clutch magic practice the other day. I had to power the Gauntlet myself. Didn't go so well either.'

       Zane laughed and clapped Ralph on the shoulder. 'That's 'cause you still haven't learned to rein in that Godzilla wand of yours. I hear the Gauntlet was running so fast that parts of it were a blur. Is that true?'

       'The team sure didn't think it was funny,' Ralph admitted, raking his fingers through his hair. 'But it definitely sharpened their reflexes. I swear, at one point, it looked like Fiorello was in two places at once trying to evade one of those clockwork battering arms.'

       'I'm fine,' James sighed, approaching the sprawling ruin of Roberts' burnt mansion. He plopped onto a broken wall and stared out along the sunlit mall. 'I'm just annoyed that we haven't figured this last bit out yet. I mean, we can't keep the horseshoe hidden forever. Someone's going to sniff it out and then we'll be totally sunk.'

       Zane shrugged and joined James on the broken end of the wall. Tall grass swished around the boys' feet where they dangled over the side. 'I don't know,' he replied. 'Hiding the unicorn's shoe in the roots of the Warping Willow was totally genius. That horseshoe may have some powerful mojo in it, but if it's stronger than the Willow, I'll eat a Clutch. That's a big score for the Ralphinator.'

       'It was nothing,' Ralph said, trying not to grin with pride. 'I was just thinking back to our first year when Delacroix hid the Merlin throne right on Hogwarts grounds since it was the only place in the country that was magical enough and protected enough to overshadow that kind of power. If it worked for her, I thought it might work for us.'

       Zane nodded. 'It's an excellent idea no matter what. I bet if old Mags had thought of it, he might actually have made it to the World Between the Worlds and not gotten shot down in an alley like a cowboy at high noon.'

       James shook his head, not at all sharing in his friends' carefree attitudes. 'It's just that it's taking too long,' he said, smacking his hand on the stone next to him. 'That idiot Keynes, the arbiter, is nearly finished with his inspection. Dad sent me a note saying that he ran into him at the Crystal Mountain. Keynes told him that he wouldn't need to interview any of us after all, said that he'd found all the information he needed elsewhere. That can only mean one thing, can't it? He's about ready to make his judgment and he's found just what he needed to convict Petra and send her to prison!'

       'But who could he have talked to?' Ralph asked, kicking at the weeds near a fallen chunk of stone wall. 'We were the only witnesses to what happened. Who else would tell him that someone that looked an awful lot like Petra came walking out afterwards? I mean, the only people we told were Rose and Scorpius through the Shard. If Keynes had talked to them, they definitely would have told us.'

       James frowned dourly. Ralph may be right about Rose, but James himself wasn't so sure about Scorpius. 'Either way, if we're going to figure out this stupid riddle, we'd better do it right quick. Otherwise, there won't be any point. They'll have passed judgment on Petra and carted her off and Izzy will wind up in some Muggle foster home, probably with all her memories of us completely Obliviated.'

       'But we've checked out everything we could think of,' Zane said, raising his eyebrows and hands at the same time. 'We got bupkis! If the Nexus Curtain lies within the eyes of Roebitz, then Roebitz sure ain't talking