JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

Wreakramble root (degraded; 0 potency)

       Albus leaned over the parchment, frowning at the words. He could trace the origins of all of these ingredients. Most of them were remnants from his recent Potions class and his lunch prior to that. The Wreakramble root was from last week, when Professor Baruti had taken the class to Shackamaxon for a special lesson with the native woman, Madam Ayasha. Albus reminded himself that he should probably wash his hands a little more often. He sighed. The Teach-cheat didn't seem to have picked up anything from the bronze statue outside.

       But then, very faintly and slowly, another line began to write out on the tissue-like parchment. Albus leaned over it again, straining to make out the blurry words.

Composite: Felix Felicis (derivative hybrid; memory)

       Albus very nearly gasped. His eyes widened as he stared down at the parchment and its faint words. He knew what 'memory' meant in potions terms. It meant that there wasn't any detectable remnant of the listed ingredient, but a sort of halo or aura of it remained, imprinted onto the parchment like an echo.

       'Felix Felicis,' he whispered to himself, awed. A moment later, a crooked smile crept onto his face and he shook his head slowly. He was familiar with the substance, although he'd never actually encountered any of it in real life.

       'It's probably in those amber eyes,' he mused aloud. 'After all, it's a liquid, isn't it? It might be infused in the metal as well, but there'd have to be a store of it somewhere inside, otherwise, the potion memory would be useless.'

       Albus narrowed his eyes. He collected the used Teach-cheat, folded it up, and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his slate grey blazer. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd do with what he'd learned, but he was glad of it nonetheless. Maybe he'd tell James about it. Not that it would do any good, of course, but it would feel good to be able to reveal such a juicy bit of house gossip.

       Felix Felicis, he thought, smiling ruefully. Better known as Liquid Luck.

       Albus might have told James that very night if it hadn't been for the arrest of Petra Morganstern.

       In retrospect, both James and Albus understood that that had been the event that set everything fully into motion, like a lever being pulled and starting up a sort of magical merry-goround, one that starts slowly, but gradually spins faster and faster, becoming an unstoppable blur.

       They were walking to the library after dinner in the cafeteria, Albus, James, Ralph, Zane, and Lucy, the Tuesday before the final Clutchcudgel tournament match, when the word came down. A rabble of voices wafted into the early summer air, distracting Albus from the Quaffle he and Ralph had been tossing around. Ralph's toss struck Albus in the chest and bounced to the ground, unseen, as the gathering turned toward the increasing noise.

       'It's that girl!' someone called out in a sort of hushed shout. 'The one that cursed Mr. Henredon! They've finally convicted her!'

       'But why are they bringing her here?' a Vampire boy asked, trotting past Albus, heading to join the gathering crowd.

       'Petra?' Ralph asked, turning to look at James and Zane. 'Did you hear anything about this?'

       James shook his head, his face growing alarmed. 'No. Not a thing! Come on!'

       As one, the group broke into a run, Albus and Lucy following in the rear. By the time they reached the throng of students, a commanding voice rang out from the center, overruling the babble.

       'Everyone please stand back,' the voice said, its tone one of unquestioned authority. Albus saw a very severe man in a dark grey tunic and short vest, his hands raised. The left hand was held palm out, the right clutched his wand. 'For your own safety and for the security of the campus, return immediately to your houses and classrooms. Anyone caught interfering with Wizarding Court affairs, even by accident, will be prosecuted. Am I clear?'

The last was not really a question and the set of the man's face made that fact very obvious. Students began to fall back, although none seemed in any hurry to return to their houses and classrooms. As the mob broke apart, Albus saw a tight assembly of men and women dressed in more of the grey tunics and vests, their faces all nearly expressionless. The arbiter, Albert Keynes, was among them, smiling faintly, his hat pulled tightly down over his bald head. The troop began to walk slowly toward a large building—the campus medical school—levitating something carefully between them. Albus realized what it was at the same moment that James and the rest did.

       'Petra!' James said, nearly groaning. He began to move forward again, reaching for his own wand, but Ralph and Zane both grabbed a shoulder and held him back, their faces pale and grave.

       Petra Morganstern floated upright in the center of the gathered witches and wizards, her head down, her hair hanging like a dark curtain over her face. Albus guessed by the dangle of her arms and the loose curls of her fingers that she was unconscious and felt his own pang of mingled pity and fear. Her bare feet dangled six inches over her shadow as she floated along the footpath, suspended in the center of no less than eight pointing wands.

       'Petra!' James called again, as if he meant to wake her. Albus knew it was a futile effort. She wasn't merely asleep. She had been Stunned into unconsciousness. Probably it had been the only way the court officials could apprehend her. Still, it hurt his heart a little to see it. It was a bit like seeing a noble dragon declawed and defanged, or a captured warrior princess with all of her hair cut off. There was something shameful about it and something rather deeply frightening. Not just because Petra was so silent in her unconsciousness, but because Albus knew that they wouldn't be able to keep her unconscious forever. Eventually, she would wake up.

       Slowly, carefully, the gathered court policemen and women maneuvered Petra's body into the wide front doors of the Medical College. Keynes held one of the doors open for them, smiling that infuriating, smug smile. Inside, Albus knew, were potions that could place someone into a deep sleep, virtually dreamless.

       But they won't be able to keep her unconscious forever, Albus thought again, and shuddered faintly. Eventually, Petra would wake up. Perhaps Izzy would be gone by then, spirited off to her new home in the Muggle world, her memory of Alma Aleron, the magical world, and Petra herself completely erased. Perhaps they would have succeeded in imprisoning Petra by then, for all the good it might (or might not) do. Unlike James, Albus didn't know that Petra was a sorceress, but he sensed nonetheless that she was no typical witch. Eventually, sometime, Petra would surely wake up. It was inevitable.

And when she did, Albus was quite sure of one thing: when she woke up, she would be very, very angry.

21. UNLIKELY ALLIANCES

       'Petra!' James called, not even feeling Ralph and Zane's hands on his shoulders,