JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

       James looked. He wasn't sure he was seeing the same thing Molly was seeing, but it was exciting nonetheless. The great landmass grew and spread, slowly expanding to fill the entire western horizon. As the fog of distance dissipated, James began to recognize the shapes of a great city. Buildings towered up toward the sky, clumped together like stacks of gigantic toy blocks. Finally, as they got close enough for James to make out the faces of individual skyscrapers and to recognize the shapes of other ships clustered around the sprawling ports, Barstow halted the Gwyndemere. Deftly, he used his own wand to release Henrietta from her harness chain. A few quick commands and words of praise sent the great sea serpent curling down under the boat, where she would apparently hide for the landward side of the journey. Much more slowly, then, the Gwyndemere began to creep forward, propelled by Dodongo's dutiful pedaling below- decks. James turned and saw the smokestack behind him issuing a stream of black smoke: the giant ape's last huge cigar, of course. He grinned, and then turned back to the approaching land.

       'The Statue of Liberty,' Harry announced from behind James. James saw it, standing tall and straight before the massive city, faint in the misty distance. The statue seemed to regard them mildly, her torch raised high overhead, glinting gold as the sun shone on it. Behind James, his father sighed and said, rather more quietly. 'The United States. What would Severus Snape say, I wonder.'

       'He'd say to keep one hand on your wand and the other on your wallet,' Albus said, grinning crookedly.

       'We're nearly to port,' Percy announced briskly, clapping his hands together. 'I suggest we all head below and make ourselves ready. The journey isn't over yet! We've still a way to go before nightfall, and our escorts will be meeting us at customs.'

       James turned aside, peering around Ralph toward his cousin Lucy. 'Is your dad always this chipper when he's traveling?'

       Lucy nodded somberly. 'He thrives on it. The good part is that we can always leave him to manage all the business of it and just enjoy the sights ourselves. Should be interesting.'

       'Famous last words,' Albus said, narrowing his eyes.

       Slowly, James and his family and friends began to thread back down the spiral stairway. By the time they had lugged their trunks back onto the main deck, they were very nearly at port. The shadows of the skyscrapers fell over the Gwyndemere as she angled into a narrow inlet, surrounded by massive cargo ships and rusty tugboats. Gulls soared and lofted on the air currents, calling derisively over the waves. The air was thick with the mingled smells of dead fish, seaweed, and, unfortunately, garbage. James turned to watch as a huge barge of rubbish lumbered past them, piled high and surrounded by its own cloud of screeching gulls.

       'I hope this isn't a sign of things to come,' Ralph said, staring up at the stinking piles of trash.

       'Buck up, Ralph,' Petra said, coming up behind them and smiling. 'A city that can afford to throw that much rubbish away must be a city worth seeing, right?'

       Ralph shook his head uncertainly. 'If you say so.'

       'I do,' Petra said, and something in her voice made James turn around. To his eyes, Petra certainly didn't appear sick anymore, and the sight made his heart rejoice. She drew in a great, contented breath and let it out slowly, looking up at the towering, glittering buildings. 'New York,' she said on the exhale, narrowing her eyes slightly. 'You know what they call it, don't you?'

       James shook his head, smiling at her with bemusement.

       'They call it The City that Never Sleeps,' she answered herself, nodding with approval. 'I like that. I like it very much.'

       James couldn't stop looking at her. To him, she was very nearly radiant. Beyond her, the buildings loomed and glimmered, casting their shadows over her, sparkling in the setting sun.

       Somewhere nearby, a tugboat sounded its horn. James barely heard it.

       The next half hour went past in a blur of bustling crowds, echoing announcements, long queues, and flashing signs. James drifted through it all in a sort of dazed wonder, glad that his dad and Uncle Percy seemed to be managing the various questions, connections, and directions. The American wizarding customs agent didn't even look up as James moved in front of the high counter, following Lucy and Izzy.

       'Name,' the man said, holding out his hand, palm up. James had been watching, so he knew what to do. He dropped his wand into the man's hand.

       'James Sirius Potter,' he called through the noise of the crowd.

       'Reason for visiting the United States?' the agent asked in a bored monotone.

       'I'm here with my dad, Harry Potter,' James answered. He was satisfied to see the agent blink and look up at him over his glasses. It was a brief look, but James knew what it meant. Even here, Harry Potter was a well- known figure.

       'Are you transporting any fruit, vegetables, potions, beasts, insects, cursed objects, or forbidden artifacts into the United States?'

       'No,' James said, and then added, 'er, I have an owl. Nobby. Does he count?'

       'Service animals are permitted, so long as they can pass a routine health inspection,' the agent said, holding James' wand under a large magnifying glass. Smoky shapes on the glass resolved into letters, and James craned to read them. He was interested to see that the letters spelled out the last several spells he had performed—mostly levitations, but also the hiding spells he had used on Petra's letter—as well as the construction and core details of his wand. The agent quickly jotted James' name on a much-used chalkboard and the letters appeared a moment later on the magnifying glass, beneath the information about his wand. The agent turned and handed the wand back to James over the counter.

       'Are you a registered or undocumented werewolf, Animagus, Metamorphmagus, vampire, shape-shifter, or beast-whisperer?' he said, rattling off the words as if he had asked the same question a million times before, which he probably had.

       James tried to replay the question in his head. 'Er, I don't think so,' he answered.

       'Welcome to the United States,' the agent said, unsmiling. 'And good luck, Mr. Potter.'

       'Er, thanks.' James replied. As he moved forward in line, making room for Ralph to hand over his own unusually large wand, James turned and saw his father at an adjacent queue, behind Merlin and in front of his mum. They were all talking, their heads close together.

       Finally, the signs and queues opened up into a broad lobby with high vaulted ceilings and moving advertisements framed on the walls. Witches and wizards crowded the space, some flying overhead on brooms, zooming in and out through a bank of very tall doorways set into the far wall. As James peered around at the milling crowd, he was not exactly surprised to see a wide variety of ethnicities, clothing styles, and even animals, all milling through the gigantic space like ants.

       On the other side of the space, near the doors, a Bigfoot wearing a backpack and a pair of dark sunglasses lumbered along, towering over those around him. Nearby, a dark-skinned wizard in a red fez stooped over an open carpet bag. He produced a length of white rope, which he deftly tossed into the air, where it caught and hung on nothing. Without pausing, the man closed his carpet bag, scooped it onto his shoulder, and, to James' complete amazement, began to climb the rope. As he reached the top, he vanished into thin air, taking his carpet bag with him. A moment later, the rope zipped upwards, disappearing as well.

       'Wicked…,' Ralph said appreciatively, standing next to James, his eyes wide.

       James nodded and felt excitement bubbling up in him. Together, they followed Percy and Neville Longbottom toward a bank of grand marble stairs and the doors beyond.

       'Hey,' Ralph said suddenly, pushing himself up on his toes to peer over the crowd, 'isn't that Chancellor Franklyn over there? On the landing over to the right?'