JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

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       'We were below-decks, as per instructions,' Merlin said mildly, still smiling that strange, small smile. 'You must understand: we are at sea. Here, the word of the captain is law. As adults, we are in the habit of abiding by the law.'

       James shook his head. 'Fat lot of help you'd have been if we hadn't gotten Henrietta's harness fixed at the last second. We'd have been caught by pirates, and then who knows what would have happened?'

       'Worse fates have befallen people on the high seas, James,' Neville replied, patting the boy on the shoulder. 'I suspect everything would have turned out all right, no matter what. After all, we're hardly carrying a shipment of Galleons for the World Wizarding Bank in New Amsterdam, are we?' He blinked and turned aside to Harry. 'Are we?'

       Percy shook his head. 'I assure you, James, and the rest of you, everything was entirely under control at all times.'

       James leaned against the railing next to Lucy. 'Sure didn't seem like it when we were flying over that last pirate ship, smashing its masts like tenpins,' he muttered. 'But whatever you say.'

       'So what do you think those pirates were after us for?' Lucy asked quietly as the adults meandered away, talking in low voices.

       'Well, it wasn't to ask us all to come over for crumpets and tea, that's for sure,' James said darkly. 'Barstow himself seemed pretty surprised by it. Seemed to say that it was pretty unusual for so many pirates to work together at once. I bet you a Galleon that my dad, Merlin, Professor Longbottom, and the rest of the grownups know a lot more about this than they're letting on.'

       'Well, that's their job, I guess,' Ralph sighed. 'And they're welcome to it.' In a different voice, he added, 'I hear we'll be landing in America by teatime tomorrow! I can hardly wait, can't you?'

       Lucy nodded. 'I'm ready to get land under my feet again even if it isn't home.'

       'You'll love the States,' Ralph said confidently. 'It's totally cool there. Way different, especially in the cities. You can get food from all over the world on nearly every corner. And there's Bigfeet, and old Native American magic, and loads of amazing wizarding places. There's even a crystal mountain that you can't even see until you just about bump into it. Even the Muggles told stories about that one, up until the American Magical Administration made it unplottable, a hundred years ago or so.'

       'Bah,' Albus said grumpily, stumping up and plopping down onto a bench built into the railing. 'None of it will be as cool as Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. Who needs a stupid old crystal mountain? Or Bigfeet for that matter?'

       'I think they prefer the term 'Sasquatches',' Lucy said carefully. 'Or Bigfoots, even though it sounds a little odd, grammatically.'

       'Stupid apes can't even talk,' Albus groused. 'They can start telling me what to call them when they can say it in plain English.'

       'That's rather speciesist,' Lucy commented, but without much conviction. 'What's got you in such a foul mood?'

       Albus rolled his eyes. 'Mum just yelled at me for making a racket in the hallway. Me and Lily and Molly. We were just playing Winkles and Augers. I don't see what the big deal is.'

       'You were playing Winkles and Augers with Lily and Molly?' Ralph said, frowning. 'But they aren't even in school yet. Do they even have wands?'

       James smiled ruefully. 'Albus' attitude toward the rules is pretty loose. He got both girls some cheap toy wands from Gorleone's Novelties last time we were in Diagon Alley and he taught them some basic levitation, just so he has somebody to play Winkles with that he can actually beat.'

       'I beat you last time we played,' Albus countered, raising his eyebrows challengingly. 'Don't pretend I didn't.'

       'That's because you kept on playing after Mum called us for lunch and I went downstairs!' James cried, tossing his hands into the air.

       'S'not against the rules, is it?' Albus replied evenly. 'I mean, I could have just claimed you'd forfeited. I gave you the benefit of the doubt.' To Ralph, he grinned and added, 'I won, two hundred and seventy-eight to five.'

       'You can't play Winkles properly in a hallway as narrow as the corridors below-decks anyway,' Lucy said, leaning back on the railing. 'But besides that, why would your mum care? It's not like anyone's asleep or anything.'

       Albus shrugged, bored with the topic by now. 'Apparently Petra doesn't feel well. She's got seasickness or something. She and Izzy are in their cabin resting. We were at least two doors down from them anyway.'

       'Petra's sick?' James clarified, glancing at his brother. 'Really?'

       Ralph said, 'You seem surprised. Lots of people get sick on boats. I'm surprised I'm not sick.'

       'You still have one more day,' Lucy commented reasonably. Ralph nodded.

       'I'm a little surprised, yeah,' James said, furrowing his brow. 'Petra just doesn't seem like the seasick type.'

       'So maybe it isn't seasickness then,' Albus exclaimed, annoyed. 'Maybe she has rickets. Or scurvy. Who cares? She'll be fine by tomorrow night, won't she?'

       Ralph nodded thoughtfully. 'Barstow says sailors used to be called 'limeys' because eating limes and oranges and stuff was a great way to keep from catching rickets out on the high seas, for some reason. Has Petra been eating any limes?'

       'She doesn't have rickets, you prat,' Lucy said, shaking her head.

       'I bet there's some limes in the galley,' Albus said, brightening. 'We could take her some. You want to?'

       'Just leave her alone, like Mum said, why don't you?' James said, raising his voice a little. 'Lucy's right. Whatever she has, limes aren't going to fix it. Just leave her be.'

       'Oh, that's right,' Albus said, rolling his eyes again. 'Treus has to look out for his dear Astra. How could I forget? By the way, has she professed her 'deep and abiding love' for you yet? No? Ah well.'

       James sighed and shook his head. He was used to his brother's ribbing by now. He looked toward the mid- ship stairs, wondering if he should go down and check on Petra. Reluctantly, he decided not to. His mum was probably right. If Petra didn't feel well, it would probably be best if they just left her alone. Petra would ask for help if she needed it.

       Later that afternoon, however, as the sky lowered and turned ashy grey, James was surprised to see Petra and Izzy walking the decks. He saw the two of them from across the ship, he on the bow, and them on the high, angled floor of the stern, strolling slowly, hand in hand. He angled toward the mid-ship stairs, trying to move as casually as he could, hoping they wouldn't come up the other side of the ship while he was aiming to meet them on the stern. He didn't want it to appear that he was following them although that was exactly what he was doing.

       By the time he got to the stern, however, neither of the girls was in sight. He looked around carefully, and then turned back to peer over the length of the ship. Apparently, Petra and Izzy had gone back below-decks again. He frowned and shook his head. Far ahead of the ship, the sky was turning a deep, bruised colour, darkening and condensing. It was a storm, just as Barstow had predicted, and the ship seemed to be heading right for it. As James thought this, a high wind twitched over the ship, threading through his hair and singing a high, momentary whine in the ship's rigging. James shuddered.

After a moment's consideration, he headed back down the stern and toward the stairs. There was no point in