JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

sounded in the hot evening air, flashing their colours up onto the Hill and the stern facade of Ares Mansion.

       'So how's this going to happen?' Ralph asked, glancing around at the throng. 'Does Franklyn or somebody need to come out and, like, levitate the houses or something?'

       Gobbins shook his head. 'I don't think so. I think the March of the Houses is old magic, set up by Pepperpock and Roberts and the rest back when they first built the Aleron. I think it happens all by itself. We just wait and watch.'

       Even as Gobbins spoke, a low, ominous groan arose. James felt the rumble of it in his chest and the soles of his feet. It throbbed in the air, blotting out the other noises rather like a base note on a gigantic magical amplifier. Immediately, the crowd hushed into bright-eyed silence. James looked toward Ares Mansion, but it simply sat there, unmoving, its windows unlit and blank like stubborn, staring eyes.

       'Is this it?' James called, raising his voice over the thrumming rumble.

       Zane shook his head, glancing around. 'Must be! Look!' He pointed—not at Ares Mansion, but backwards, over the heads of the throng behind them.

       James and the rest of Team Bigfoot turned around and gasped.

       Hovering over the crowd, casting its humongous blocky shadow onto the upturned faces was Apollo Mansion. It looked exactly the same as always except that you could see inside the dark footprint of its foundation: a square of heavy bricks, surrounding what was, unmistakably, the ceiling of the erstwhile basement game room. Clods of dirt and mortar pattered down over the crowd as the structure drifted overhead, moving like a giant parade balloon. A round white shape peered from one of the upper windows and James saw that it was Geoffrey Kleinschmidt, the Bigfoot reserve player who'd been too sick to make it to the match. He waved gamely, grinning, his hair poking up in an unruly strew.

       'We won!?' he hollered down, both as a question and a statement, and the crowd roared back, laughing and cheering.

       Slowly, ponderously, Apollo Mansion approached Victory Hill, passing over the crowd and emitting that deep, throbbing rumble. As it swept over James' head, he almost thought he could reach up and touch the rafters of the basement ceiling. He laughed out loud as he saw the disarmadillo hunkered on top of one of those rafters, crouched in a sort of alert ball, eyes blinking down at the crowd below.

       As the house passed over the lawn of Victory Hill, casting its shadow over the broken werewolf statue, James was surprised to see that Ares Mansion was still there, sitting stubbornly on the Hill's foundation.

       'Go on!' Zane called, grinning. 'Beat it, house!'

       'Yeah!' the members of Team Bigfoot joined in, raising their fists. Soon, the entire crowd rallied the cry, cheering and jeering raucously.

       Ares Mansion did not budge, however, even as the shadow of Apollo Mansion crept up its front, casting its reflection onto the tall staring windows. Finally, gently, Apollo Mansion nudged the front corner of its counterpart. The sound of it was a soft, rattling crunch. In response, Ares Mansion shuddered slightly and seemed almost to let out a resigned sigh. A moment later, it arose from the foundation of Victory Hill, producing a long, crumbling, ripping noise.

       The crowd erupted into cheers again as the houses traded places, moving like elephantine dancers. Slowly, almost sheepishly, Ares Mansion began its long march down Victory Hill and toward the empty foundation on the opposite end of the mall. In its place, Apollo Mansion settled slowly atop Victory Hill, its footprint meeting perfectly with the gaping foundation beneath it. The ground shook as the weight of the house settled and a puff of masonry dust arose all around it, pale in the moonlight.

The crowd redoubled its cheers, and the members of Team Bigfoot looked around at each other in amazement. Wentworth was there by then, his fingers wrapped in white bandages. Next to him, also wearing various bandages and braces, were Norrick, Mukthatch, Troy Covington, and the rest of the disabled players. Geoffrey Kleinschmidt burst through the front door in his pajamas, his hands raised as if the crowd was cheering solely for him. He made his way down the walkway and joined the team where they stood beaming at one another, happy for the moment beyond words.

       'Go on in!' Ophelia Wright cried out, nudging James forward. 'Check out your new digs! See what the view looks like from Victory Hill!'

       'You too,' Jazmine called, turning to the reserve players from the other houses. 'All of you! Tonight, you're all Bigfoots!'

       'Watch your mouth!' Warrington replied, frowning, but he didn't argue when the gathering pushed him up the footpath toward Apollo Mansion.

       James thought that the building had been transformed, somehow. It looked exactly the same as it always had—just a big blocky mansion, perhaps a little too symmetrical and rather lacking in embellishment—but now, seated atop Victory Hill, the things that had once made it boring now made it regal. It's the angle, he thought, looking up at it as he approached, smiling with pride and triumph. This is where it was originally built, I'd bet my skrim on it. This is how it was meant to be seen…

       This thought was interrupted, however, even as James put his foot on the first step of the main entrance. A very loud, very strange noise fell over the entire campus, shocking the crowd into silence. James glanced back, alarmed.

       'What's tha—' Zane began, but was drowned out by the noise as it sounded again. It was a sort of metallic creak, long and ragged, followed by a rumble and a distant tinkle of breaking glass.

       'Is that still the March of the Houses?' Ralph frowned, his eyes wide and nervous.

       Next to him, Warrington shook his head. 'No. That's coming from over there, just past Admin Hall.'

       'It's the Medical College,' a voice cried from the crowd. 'Something's wrong with it. Look out!'

       The crowd began to move then in that alarming, sluggish way that only large groups of suddenly frightened people can move. They pushed and clambered, backing away from the corner nearest the beige bricks of the Medical College.

       James looked, remembering what he had seen earlier, the small gathering in front of the Medical College's main entrance—Uncle Percy, Lucy, Izzy, and the group of Wizarding Court agents. The arbiter, Albert Keynes, had not been in sight, but he had to have been there somewhere.

       'What have you done?' James asked under his breath, his eyes widening. He realized, with no real surprise, that the question wasn't addressed to Keynes.

       As he watched, the lights of the beige building flickered, flashed, and then fell dark. Inside, monstrously, that awful noise sounded again, creaking and groaning rather like a beast in pain. And then, with no warning, most of the windows on the nearest side of the building exploded outwards.

       Glass tinkled and flashed like confetti, spreading out and down into the nearby trees. Another noise followed—a sort of massive crumpling crash, and the face of the building changed. It sucked inward, distorting the shape of the structure as if it had been punched by a gigantic invisible fist. Bricks and broken masonry showered down into the bushes.

       'It's imploding!' Zane announced, both frightened and amazed. 'What could make it do that?'

       Not a what, James thought, but didn't say, a who.

       Debris rained down from the face of the Medical College, but the noise fell away. The event seemed to have spent itself. A moment later, James sensed movement at the far edge of the crowd, closest to the distorted building. The gathering was parting, spreading away from some moving nucleus. James stood on tiptoes, trying to see who or what it was. From his vantage point atop Victory Hill, he could finally see.

       It was, of course, Petra.