JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

       Behind Ralph and James came the sound of stifled laughter. James turned around. Against the rear wall, in an old clawfoot chair with threadbare upholstery, sat the President of Zombie House, a small dapper man with what appeared to be, for all intents and purposes, goat's legs. He was dressed in a tailored jacket with tails, an immaculately tied yellow ascot, and a natty grey vest. Two stubby purplish horns adorned his temples. His name, James now knew, was Professor Felix Stanford Cloverhoof, and he was apparently a faun, also known, for some reason, as the Jersey Devil.

       'I'm sorry,' Cloverhoof said, recovering himself and assuming a serious expression. 'Do continue, Mr. Warrington. You are on quite a roll.'

       'I'm done,' Warrington said, moving back around the desk and plopping into his chair, which squeaked in protest. 'With both of them.'

       'I'm afraid that Mr. Warrington is quite right, my friends,' Cloverhoof said breezily, climbing to his hooved feet. He straightened his vest and picked a fleck of dust from his lapel. 'Zombie House does have its standards, ill- defined and amorphous as they are. I quite suspect that you will be rather happier elsewhere.'

       'But…,' James exclaimed, stammering. 'But, but…!'

       'I had a rather lengthy discussion about the affair with the Chancellor this morning after he… er… extracted the both of you from your various predicaments. I agree with his assessment entirely. There is really only one house for students with your particular… ahem… aptitudes.'

       'Oh no,' Ralph moaned. 'Not Igor House.'

       Cloverhoof blinked at Ralph and smiled a little crookedly. 'Igor House?' he said inquiringly. 'No, not quite. Come along boys. The morning is well begun and surely you have classes to attend to. Tonight, you will begin life in your new society. Surely you will fit in very nicely.'

       'Which house?' James asked unhappily, standing up and moving toward the door as the faun professor swung it open.

       'Why, I'd have thought it was obvious,' Cloverhoof replied brightly. 'Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't rush there in the first place. The Chancellor has determined that you should be assigned to Bigfoot House. I'm quite certain that you will find it very… er… reassuring.'

       James and Ralph slumped where they stood.

From the desk behind them, Warrington grinned wickedly. 'See you on the Clutch course, boys!' he announced, and chuckled humorlessly.

       'I don't see what the big deal is about Bigfoot House,' Lucy said, rolling her eyes. The sun was setting over the campus, painting long purple shadows over the lawns and footpaths as the students made their way back from dinner in the cafeteria.

       'That's because you got into the house you rushed for,' Ralph grumped. 'You've got the blood red tie to prove it.'

       'Looks excellent too,' Zane added.

       Lucy smiled demurely. 'Thank you. But the point is, you were probably never meant to be in Zombie House anyway, and if you'd ended up there, you probably would've been totally miserable.'

       'Hush your mouth!' Zane exclaimed, covering his ears with his hands. 'That's the Zombies you're talking about!'

       'And a fine bunch they are, I'm sure,' Lucy soothed. 'Just not for James and Ralph. Obviously it fits you like a suit of armor. Albeit, yellow armor, with a clown's wig on the top.'

       'Now you're talking,' Zane nodded, mollified.

       'But Bigfoot House,' James moaned. 'They're the nobody dorm.'

       'In that case, it fits you two perfectly,' Albus said, coming up from behind.

       James glanced back at his brother darkly. 'When did you get here, you big turncoat?'

       'At least my turncoat comes with a burgundy tie,' Albus replied, brushing off his blazer and peering critically down at himself. 'Pretty dashing, isn't it?'

       Ralph narrowed his eyes. 'You ever hear the phrase 'blood is thicker than water'?'

       'I haven't gotten that far in Potions yet,' Albus answered breezily.

       In a careful voice, Lucy said, 'That was a rather awful thing to do, Albus, leaving your brother up there like that.'

       'Oh, he was fine,' Albus waved a hand. 'It was either him or me. Before I was a Werewolf, I was a Slytherin, remember, and we Slytherins take every break we can get. It's the Gryffindors that are all self-sacrificing and noble. If you look at it that way, I was just helping James to be true to his heritage.'

       James flung out an arm and backhanded his brother on the shoulder, shoving him backwards. 'I'll show you a thing or two about nobility, you sodding git!'

'Ah, ah, ah…,' Albus warned, wagging a finger at his brother. 'Werewolves look out for each other. Now that I wear the grey and burgundy, anything you do to me is likely to be repaid by the Brotherhood of the Wolf. I'm just giving you fair warning. I don't want to see you get hurt, big brother.'

       ''Brotherhood of the Wolf',' Zane scoffed. 'There isn't a real werewolf in the bunch. If any of your brotherhood was confronted by a real wolf, they'd scurry like mice.'

       Albus rounded on Zane. 'But Zombie House is full of the walking undead, right? At least in terms of brainpower, from what I hear.'

       'Them's fightin' words!' Zane proclaimed stridently.

       'Will you both shut it,' Lucy interrupted, getting between the two of them and placing a hand on each one's chest, pushing them apart. 'This is a silly thing to argue about. Everyone knows that both the Werewolves and Zombies cower before the dark mystery of Vampire House.'

       Zane spluttered while Albus pushed Lucy's hand away. She smiled haughtily, raised her chin, and walked on.

       'She sure picked that up fast,' Ralph said, impressed.

       'Come on,' Zane urged irritably, yanking Ralph's elbow. 'The Bigfoots' mansion is over here. Let's get you inside and introduced to your new pals. I've never even seen the inside of the dorm since I've never been friends with any Bigfeets.'

       James sighed as they walked toward the staid brick structure. Apollo Mansion, home of Bigfoot House, was by far the least interesting of the houses. It stood square and straight in the orange sunset, looking like a sentinel guarding something nobody really wanted. There was virtually no landscaping around the mansion except for a few squat shrubberies that ranged around the foundation in a businesslike manner. A short stone stairway led to the front door, which was adorned with a large pewter knocker in the shape of a foot with splayed toes.

       'So, are there any actual Bigfoots in Bigfoot House?' Ralph asked as they climbed the steps.

       'Maybe,' Zane shrugged. 'That would put them on a level higher than either the Werewolves or the Vampires. They haven't had any real werewolves or vampires in their houses for centuries.'

       James asked, 'What about the Pixies, Igors, and Zombies?'

       'I don't know about the Pixies or Igors,' Zane said, reaching for the huge knocker, 'but the old President of Zombie House was this crotchety professor named Straidthwait, and he taught class for nearly a week before