JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

anyone knew he'd died of brain failure or something. Apparently, he'd spent too much time in deepest Africa during a summer vacation and drank a few too many native potions. Once he found out he was dead, he insisted on being buried in the campus cemetery, ambulatory or not.' Zane grinned at James and Ralph and clacked the door knocker three times, shaking the big wooden door.

       'You're making that up,' Ralph insisted. 'They didn't bury him alive!'

       Zane shook his head. 'He wasn't alive. He was dead as a doorknob. Said so himself. I hear he performed his own eulogy and told everyone that he was looking forward to being buried. Said it was going to be like the ultimate retirement. It's engraved on his tomb, in fact. I'll show you sometime.'

       'No thanks,' Ralph replied as the door opened. A small boy with pasty skin and huge glasses looked up at Zane.

       'I know you,' he said meekly. 'You gave me donkey's ears last year.'

       'Did I?' Zane blinked, thinking. 'Could be. I gave a lot of people donkey's ears last year. It was all the rage. Hurt, did it?'

       The boy stared up at Zane. 'No. But it made me want to eat lots of carrots. And it made it easier to hear the lectures in Mageography. I didn't mind, really.'

       'Good man,' Zane said heartily, clapping the boy on the shoulder. The boy tottered.

       'I'm James,' James said, stepping forward. 'And this here's Ralph. We're… er… Bigfoots.'

       'You sure are,' the boy said, looking up and down at Ralph.

       'I remember you,' Zane said, squinting. 'Pastington, right?'

       'Paddington,' the boy corrected. 'Wentworth Paddington.'

       'Can we come in?' Ralph asked hopefully. 'Only, we'd like to get settled into our new rooms. If we have to sleep in the common dorm with that crazy clockwork monkey for one more night…'

       'Oh, sure,' the boy said blandly, stepping backwards. 'Everything's pretty much wherever you find it. The dormitories are all up on the third floor. Game room's in the basement. Everything in between is what it is.'

       James stepped into the foyer of the house. It was neat and high with a small unlit chandelier dangling overhead. A dusty banner drooped from the chandelier, faded with age. Dark blue letters on an orange background spelled the words 'BIGFOOT PRUDE'.

       'Oh, that,' Wentworth said, following James' gaze. 'That was made by Kowalski's mom when he was a freshman. English isn't exactly her first language, but Kowalski was so proud of it that we couldn't bring ourselves to take it down.'

       Zane nodded up at the banner. 'Makes perfect sense to me, Went. So where's the party at anyway?'

Wentworth blinked behind his huge glasses. 'Party?'

       'Where's the rest of your Bigfoot pals?' Zane clarified. 'And your president? James and Ralph here should probably meet them all, shouldn't they?'

       'Oh,' Wentworth said uncertainly. 'Sure. I guess so. Come on.' He turned and padded away, heading toward a huge stairway that dominated the main hall. After a sidelong glance at Ralph and Zane, James followed.

As the four descended into the mansion's basement, they heard a babble of voices and the clack and clatter of billiard balls. Turning a landing at the base of the stairs, James found himself in a low, cluttered room, filled with mismatched sofas and chairs, end tables, and a small galaxy of lamps with battered shades. Students lounged in groups throughout the space or drifted around a collection of very antique game tables in the dimmer recesses of the basement room. A huge white refrigerator sat like a deflated blimp in the corner, flanked by a stuffed deer's head on one side and a moose head on the other. The moose head wore a tasseled nightcap and seemed to be sleeping. None of the occupants of the room looked up as James, Ralph, and Zane entered.

       'He's over there,' Wentworth pointed. 'In the middle, with his feet on the disarmadillo.'

       James followed Wentworth's gesture and saw the President of Bigfoot House lounging on a low orange sofa, his feet propped on a small animal that appeared to be half aardvark and half tank. James recognized the man as the one who had sat next to his father at Professor Longbottom's assembly. With a start, he realized that his father was sitting next to the man even now, laughing happily and holding a bottle of some American beer. Harry saw his son from across the room, grinned and waved him over.

       'I heard you'd been assigned to Bigfoot House,' he called as James, Ralph, and Zane threaded through the various chairs and tables. 'You couldn't have found a better home. Er, no matter what path got you here,' he added, smiling crookedly.

       'Hey, Mr. Potter,' Zane grinned, plopping onto a nearby chair.

       James settled onto a low, bowed sofa and sighed. 'So you heard, eh?'

       'I suspect most of magical Philadelphia knows by now,' Harry replied. 'You're a Potter, after all. Your picture will probably be on the front page of the Daily Prophet by tomorrow morning, along with a pithy caption written by Rita Skeeter herself.'

       James slumped on the sofa. 'Bloody hell. You really think so?'

       'Who cares? You won't be there to see it, at least.'

       Zane stroked his chin. 'Knowing Rose, she'll cut it out and send it to you, though.' He glanced at Ralph, who nodded.

       'However you got here,' the man on the sofa next to Harry smiled, 'Bigfoot House is proud to have you.' The man was relatively young and quite thin with a neat dark haircut and mild features. James could tell by his lack of American accent that he was not originally from the United States.

       'Yeah, well, we're glad to finally have a home, I guess,' Ralph commented. 'Even being a leftover is better than being stuck in the common dorm.'

       'Oh, we don't have leftovers in Bigfoot House,' the House President said, straightening and producing his wand from a back pocket. 'All Bigfoots are essential members of the clan. One for all and all for one. Go orange and blue!' With that, the man pointed his wand at James. There was a flash and James startled. He glanced down at himself and saw that his black tie had been transformed to a bright autumn orange, and his blazer was now dark blue. Another flash lit the room and Ralph's uniform was transformed as well.

'Not so handsome as Zombie yellow,' Zane said critically, 'but better than plain black at any rate. You were starting to look like those stiffs from the Magical Integration Bureau.'

       'Everyone listen up,' the president of the house announced loudly, taking his feet off the disarmadillo and sitting up straight. 'This is James Potter and Ralph Deedle, the newest members of Bigfoot House. Let's show them a nice welcome, eh?'

       Halfhearted cheers and applause filled the room, lingering rather pathetically as the president beamed at James and Ralph. The disarmadillo wandered slowly away, sniffing at the skirts of the sofas and munching the occasional piece of stale popcorn. When the noise of the cheers finally petered out, James flopped back into the depths of the sofa again.

       'So how do you two know each other anyway?' he asked, looking back and forth between his dad and the Bigfoot President.

       'Oh, your father and I go way back,' the president smiled. 'I helped make him the man he is today, in fact. Gave him his first shot, back when he was just a little squitter who barely knew how to hold a wand.'