JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

cities grew, it became apparent that the various Disillusionment and Fidelius Charms put in place by the magical community within the city were simply too haphazard to manage such a large-scale secret. Eventually, the New Amsterdam Department of Magical Administration requested assistance from a foreign ally in the guise of a very unique and gifted witch. Agreeing, this foreign ally sent her, and she has resided with us ever since. This witch, you see, is content to perform one single spell, a very specialized bit of magic that requires nearly all of her prodigious attention—that of casting the most powerful and complete Disillusionment Charm in the entire world.'

       Ralph let out a low whistle, impressed. 'Wow. So she's been here for a long time? How old is she, then?'

       'Old,' Franklyn laughed, 'although not quite as old as I.'

       'So why does she need to stay here?' James asked. 'Why couldn't she just cast the spell and go back home, to wherever she came from?'

       Franklyn took off his square spectacles and wiped them on his lapel. 'It is complicated, I admit. Some spells need only be cast once, of course, and their effect is satisfied… others…'

       'Others require constant support,' Merlin added from the seat next to Franklyn. 'They dissipate over time. Some have lives of hundreds or thousands of years. Others, however, evaporate nearly instantly. I suspect that such might be the case with a spell as powerful and pervasive as the one which hides this wizard city from the Muggle city that lies beneath it.'

       'Indeed, and well put,' Franklyn agreed. 'Thus, our friendly witch remains with us, performing her solitary duty, even as she sleeps.'

       'Sounds like a rum job if you ask me,' Ralph said, shaking his head. 'I sure wouldn't want to do it.'

       'Where does she live?' James interjected, leaning forward. 'Have you ever met her?'

       'I have spoken to her many times,' Franklyn said carefully. 'Although, alas, I myself have never heard her voice. Few have. Frankly, I am not sure she speaks English, and my foreign languages are rather woefully rusty these days.'

Suddenly, the train shot out of darkness and into the light of the lowering sun. James turned in his seat and squinted out the window.

       'Wow,' he said, pressing his hands to the glass. 'How fast are we going anyway?'

       Zane leaned over James' shoulder and shook his head. 'Who knows? Fast. I don't think the Zephyr even has a speedometer. No point, really.'

       Outside, the great blocks and towers of the buildings rolled past the windows with shocking speed. Rivers of yellow taxis and silver buses clogged the Muggle streets while the air above was crowded with streams of witches and wizards on brooms as well as flying trolleys and buses and even the occasional sphinx and hippogriff. The wizarding metropolis of New Amsterdam seemed to occupy many of the second floors of Muggle New York City, with grand entryways that opened atop Muggle theater marquis and awnings. Magical signs and billboards flickered past, announcing all manner of wizard products, businesses, and entertainments, not all of it quite fit for young eyes.

       'So does most of New Amsterdam sit up on top of the buildings of New York?' Ralph asked a little breathlessly.

       'Yeah, most of it,' Zane said. 'But there are wizard stores, offices, and secret entrances all over the place. Almost every building in New York has a wizard space in it on the thirteenth floor. Muggle elevators just skip right over it because they're superstitious about the number thirteen. Convenient, eh?'

       'What about that skyscraper over there?' James asked, pointing. 'The huge one that looks like it's made out of glass. Don't tell me that's a Muggle building!'

       'That,' Zane said proudly, 'is the center of the American wizarding world. It's the headquarters of the Department of Magical Administration, the Worldwide Wizard's Alliance, and the International Magical Bank. People just call it the Crystal Mountain.'

       'Oh!' Ralph said, smacking his forehead. 'I've heard of that! That's excellent! But how do Muggles not see that?'

       Zane shrugged. 'Same way they don't see the rest. To them, it's just a three-story parking garage that's always full. It's the sort of thing they expect to see on nearly every corner anyway.'

       James glanced back at him, unsure if his American friend was joking or not. Zane shrugged and smiled.

       A loud click sounded throughout the train as the public address system turned on again. 'Attention passengers,' the goblin engineer said in a businesslike voice. 'Please secure all loose objects and find a handhold. Remember, the M.T.R.S. is not responsible for lost or damaged goods during Muggle railway interactions. Thank you.'

       'What's that mean?' James said, peering forward. The Zephyr was currently rocketing along an elevated section of track that curved around a bank of industrial buildings. 'What are 'Muggle railway interactions'?'

       'Oh, this is the best part,' Zane said, climbing to his feet. 'Come on with me. Grab onto the ceiling handles here along the middle aisle.'

       'What?' Ralph said suspiciously, but standing nonetheless. 'Why?'

       'The Zephyr uses most of the same tracks as the Muggle subway,' Zane explained, adjusting his stance on the ribbed metal floor. 'So, occasionally, the Zephyr and the Muggle trains have… er… interactions.'

       'What sort of interactions?' James asked, frowning and peering ahead as the tracks flickered past, dim in the shadows of the buildings.

       Zane thought about it for a moment. 'Have you ever seen a square-dance?' he asked, glancing back at James and Ralph.

       'Er,' Ralph said, perplexed, 'no. How does a square dance?'

       Zane shook his head and grinned. 'It's called a do-si-do. Never mind, Ralphinator. Just hang onto the handle. Keep your other hand in the air when we go over. It's fun!'

       'When we go—' James began, but the words choked in his throat as he saw another train come barreling around the track in front of them. He could tell by the blunt nose and spray-painted graffiti of the approaching engine that it was a Muggle subway train. Its headlight shone on the Zephyr's windows. It zoomed toward them, occupying the exact same track.

       'Geronimo!' Zane called out, shooting his free hand into the air.

       James gasped, certain that they were all about to die, when the engineer of the Zephyr suddenly jerked the steering levers, forcing the left one all the way up, yanking the right one down. Instantly, the world turned sickeningly outside the windows of the Zephyr. Daylight and shadow switched places as the train spun into the air, following a new set of ghostly, curving tracks. James was immediately disoriented, but remembered not to let go of the ceiling handle. A moment later, there was a massive shudder as the engine landed again, pulling the rest of the passenger cars behind it.

       'You really should've warned your friends, Mr. Walker,' Franklyn said with some reproach. 'And it is unsafe to stand up during an interaction unless there is no other option.'

       'But it's more fun that way,' Zane proclaimed, unfazed.

       'What just happened to us?' Ralph said, plopping back into his seat. 'And why is it so dark outside all of a sudden?'

       'You probably don't want to know the answer to that question, Ralph,' Zane said sincerely. 'Trust me.'

       James moved to the window and peered out. Sure enough, the sunset sky seemed to be gone, replaced by a