JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

halftime, James noticed with dismay that Team Werewolf was leading by a score of fifty-two to forty- four.

       And then, fifteen seconds before the end of the second quarter, James heard a sickening thud and a shout of pain. The crowd roared deafeningly, either in anger or encouragement, and James glanced around, seeking the source of the cry. His heart rammed up into his throat as he saw Norrick falling into the darkness of the field, his arms and legs thrashing at the empty air. Far over him, his skrim spun lazily, weaving a looping trail out over one of the grandstands. Professor Sanuye's wand was out in a flash.

       'Wingardium Leviosa!' he shouted, his voice thin with distance.

       Norrick bobbed upwards, missing the grassy field below by less than ten feet. He hovered over his shadow, his right arm dangling limply.

       The crowd, which had fallen silent for a few seconds, erupted with mingled cheers and jeers. From the announcer's booth, Cheshire Chatterly's voice rang out.

       'Bigfoot number six, Willem Norrick, appears to be injured after a devastating sideswipe by Werewolf number nine, Parker Pentz,' she cried, obviously angry. 'Match Official Sanuye is escorting Norrick to the Bigfoot platform. Unless we hear otherwise, it would appear that Mr. Norrick will be out for the rest of this match, leaving Team Bigfoot one player short!'

James shouted to Norrick as Sanuye levitated him to the platform, 'Norrick! How bad is it?'

       'Bad enough!' Norrick called back through gritted teeth. 'But I'll keep playing! That punk can't get rid of me that easily!'

       James glanced back at the 'punk' in question. Pentz flew in a lazy arc around the Werewolf platform, grinning crookedly.

       'Do we have any reserve players?' Gobbins asked, floating up to join James near the center ring.

       'Rrrarpgh!' Mukthatch answered dolefully from his place by the goal ring.

       'We only had Kleinschmidt,' James said. 'And he came down with the yipsplits from eating too many of Yeats' dragon fingers.'

       'He'd have been no help anyway,' Gobbins observed mournfully. 'Kid flies a skrim like a fish flies a kite.'

       'So what'll we do?' James asked.

       Gobbins shrugged. 'We play one man short unless we can find a replacement. Can you think of anyone else who can suit up in Norrick's place?'

       James shook his head dourly.

       From the Bigfoot platform, Professor Sanuye turned away from Norrick and blew his whistle.

       'Penalty, Team Werewolf,' he called out, using his wand to amplify his voice. 'Malicious sideswiping. Three minutes in the dock.'

       James glanced back to the Werewolf platform in time to see Pentz dropping easily onto it. The Werewolf coach, a college-level student with a blocky head and a crew cut, collected Pentz's skrim and grinned tightly.

       'They planned it,' Gobbins commented wonderingly. 'Pentz did it on purpose! See how easy they're taking the penalty?'

       James sighed angrily. 'Well, at least our numbers will be even for the next three minutes.'

       'Three minutes nothing!' Gobbins said, glancing back at him. 'It's only thirteen seconds 'til halftime! All penalties are canceled at that point! Why do you think they waited to do this now? Come next half, they'll have a full crew and we'll be down by one! Unless Norrick can keep playing.'

       As if on cue, Cheshire Chatterly spoke again, her voice echoing from the announcer's box.

       'And Willem Norrick is escorted down to the field by the medical crew, apparently suffering a dislocated shoulder at the hands of Team Werewolf. Thus, with no reserves, Team Bigfoot finds themselves one player short of a full squad. Daunting odds indeed for the perennial underdogs.'

       James' face was hot with anger and frustration. When Sanuye blew his whistle again, announcing the resumption of play, he felt clumsy on his skrim. Werewolf players thundered past, quickly collecting all three Clutches. By the time the halftime horn sounded, two of those Clutches had been turned into scores. Team Werewolf circled like wasps, barking gleefully and collapsing onto their platform in triumph.

       'How's Norrick?' Jazmine asked dispiritedly as she landed on the Bigfoot platform.

       'He'll be all right,' Wood replied, sighing, 'by tomorrow afternoon. For now, I'm afraid he's out of the match.'

       'Do we have to forfeit?' Wentworth asked, his eyes huge and angry behind his glasses.

       'Not legally, no,' Wood answered immediately. 'But we are at a distinct disadvantage. Let's give it a vote. Do you lot want to go on with the match? Or shall we pack it in and head down to the Kite and Key to celebrate a season well spent?'

       'No way,' Gobbins announced loudly. 'I'll take them all on myself even if the rest of you go home. Lousy cheats! I'll teach them to play dirty like that!'

       'I'm in too,' Jazmine said, firming her jaw.

       'Wraak Rubffthuth!' Mukthatch agreed, nodding vigorously.

       'We can still take them,' James added, sounding much more confident than he felt. 'This is our match to win!'

       'Hear hear,' Wood concurred as the rest of the team cheered in agreement. 'Then we stay and play on. You're doing incredibly well, all of you. I have nothing else to tell you than just to keep it up. Now that we're down one player, though, we'll all have to be even more alert. Concentrate on offense, sink as many scores as you can. You'll have to get used to playing Clipper and Bully at the same time whenever necessary. We can do that because you all know all the parts, right?'

       'Right!' Team Bigfoot responded with slightly less than their original fervor.

       'Right,' Wood agreed. 'Now get something to drink and limber up. We're back in the air in three minutes.'

       It was nearly full dark by now with only a pink rim spreading along the western horizon. James took a moment to look around the grandstands, hoping to see some sign of his family. Sure enough, he spotted his mum in the grandstand directly behind the Bigfoot platform. She saw him looking and waved at him, her face pale and strained, as if she were desperately wishing the match were over rather than merely at halftime. Next to her was Lily, Aunt Audrey, Cousin Molly, and Viktor Krum, who sat ramrod straight, his face etched with restrained anger.

       Join the club, James thought sourly. And then: where's everyone else?

       He scanned the seats all around his mum. There was no sign of Albus. Neither in sight were Uncle Percy, Lucy, or Izzy. James was again visited by that sense of sinking dread. I can't think about that now, he reminded himself. Win the Clutch match first. Then deal with everything else.

       Wood called the team over to the edge of the platform. Halftime was nearly over. James turned away from his family and Viktor Krum, returning to the matter at hand.

       But where are they, he thought naggingly, worriedly. What in the world could be so important that Lucy, Izzy, and Albus wouldn't be here to watch the match?