Текст книги "James Potter and the Hall of the Elders' Crossing"

Автор книги: G. Norman Lippert

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        "Oh," James said, "look, say what you want, but it makes sense. We're going to get it from her, too, one way or another."

        Snape spoke quickly. "Don't be a fool, Potter. Turn over what you have. Give it to the Headmistress. Surely you see how dangerous it is to keep the robe, especially now."

        James blinked. "Why? What happens now? Does it have something to do with this Prescott fellow?"

Snape stared hopelessly at James. "You don't see it, then," he sighed. "There is a very good reason why your father, dull as he is, is being kept from accompanying tomorrow's delegation. There are members of the Progressive Element even within the Ministry, although they do not call themselves by that name. Sacarhina is one of them. Recreant may be as well, although he is not really in charge. Either she is taking full advantage of a very suspicious coincidence or this is all her plan from the beginning."

        "What? What's her plan?" James asked, lowering his voice and stepping closer to the portrait.

        "The details are unimportant. All that matters is that unless you secure the Merlin robe by tomorrow night, all will very likely be lost."

        "But it is secure," James replied. "We captured it already. You know that. We have to get the Merlin staff now."

        "Forget the staff!" Snape hissed angrily. "You are allowing yourself to be manipulated! If I had even the slightest hope that you'd be any better at it than your father was, I'd have taught you Occlumency by now. When I tell you to secure the Merlin robe, I mean you must turn it over to those who know how to bind it, not just hide it. The enemy has the other two relics. The robe wishes to be reunited with them. You will not be able to prevent that, Potter. Don't be the arrogant fool your father was!"

        James scowled. "My father was never the arrogant fool you think he was, and I'm not either. I don't have to listen to you. Besides, tomorrow isn't the alignment of the planets. It's the next night. Zane told me himself."

        Snape grinned maliciously. "So trusting are you both. Where, pray tell, does Mr. Walker get his information?"

        "He's in Constellations Club," James replied angrily. "Madame Delacroix's been using everybody in the club to help her pinpoint the exact timing of the alignment."

        "And did it never occur to you that she might have deliberately altered the information just enough to mislead those too ignorant to notice? She has known the day of the alignment for the past year. She only needed help to ascertain the hour. Even you have realized that she is involved in the Merlin plot. Do you expect that she would desire dozens of stargazing students to be swarming the grounds on the very night she plans to skulk off to facilitate the return of the most dangerous wizard of all time?"

        James felt sheepish. Of course she wouldn't. He just hadn't thought of it. He opened his mouth to speak, but could think of nothing to say. Snape went on. "She has misled all of you by exactly one day. The Hall of Elders' Crossing will not occur Thursday night, but Wednesday. Tomorrow, Potter. You have been duped, and you are being duped still. There is no time for any more delusions of grandeur. You must turn over the robe. If you do not, you will fail and our enemies will succeed in their plan."

        "James?" It was Neville. He poked his head into the Headmistress' doorway. "We lost you, it seems. Did you forget something?"

        James mind was running at full speed. He stared blankly at Neville for a few seconds, and finally gathered himself. "Er, no. No, sorry, I was just… thinking out loud."

Neville glanced at the portrait of Snape. Snape sighed and crossed his arms. "Go on, Longbottom, and take the boy with you. I've no use for him."

        Neville nodded. "Come along, James. You still have time to make your afternoon classes if you hurry. I'll walk with you and explain your tardiness."

James followed Neville out of the room, thinking only of what Snape had told him. They had only one day, one day to get the Merlin staff from Tabitha. One day before the Hall of Elders' Crossing, and it just happened to be the very same day that Sacarhina was coming to deal with Prescott. As he rode down the moving spiral stairs and came out into the corridor below, it occurred to James that Snape was right about one thing: tomorrow was indeed going to be a very busy day.

16.Disaster of the Merlin Staff

        The next morning, James, Ralph, and Zane entered the Great Hall for breakfast and headed purposefully toward the far end of the Gryffindor table.

        "Are you sure about this?" Ralph asked as they crossed the Hall. "We can't go back after this, you know."

        James pressed his lips together, but didn't answer. They crowded in with Noah, Ted, and the rest of the Gremlins, all of whom were seated conspicuously in a tight knot.

"Ah, the very man," Ted announced as James squeezed between him and Sabrina. "We were just taking bets on why you asked all of us to meet you for breakfast. Noah thinks you want to officially join the ranks of the Gremlins, in which case we've prepared a series of grueling challenges for you to complete. My favorite is the one where you don Sabrina's old Yule gown and run through the school singing the Hogwarts tribute as loud as you can. There's plenty more, although Damien's challenges tend to involve too many slugs and mustard for my taste."

        James grimaced. "To tell you the truth, the reason I asked to talk to all of you is that Ralph, Zane, and I have something we need to ask of you." To their credit, none of the Gremlins seemed surprised. They simply leaned in a little as they continued to eat. James didn't exactly know where to begin. He had awoken that morning with the simple realization that, on their own, he, Ralph, and Zane would not succeed in capturing the Merlin staff in one day. They had no plan. The portrait of Snape had been some help, but Snape didn't even believe that Tabitha Corsica had the staff. So who could they turn to? He acted on his first impulse. He could ask the one group of people in all the school who were experts in the subtle arts of chaos and tomfoolery. It might take too long to explain everything to Ted and his fellow Gremlins, and even if he could, they still might not agree to help, but it was his best, last hope. James sighed hugely and stared at his glass of pumpkin juice. "We need your help to… to borrow something."

        "Borrow something?" Noah repeated, his mouth full of toast. "What? Money? A cup of sugar? A decent haircut? Doesn't sound like you need us, exactly."

        "Quiet, Metzker," Ted said mildly. "What is it you want to 'borrow', James?"

        James took a deep breath and then simply said it. "Tabitha Corsica's broom."

        Damien coughed into his juice. All the other Gremlins glanced at James with widened eyes. All except Ted. "Whatever for?" Sabrina asked in a low voice. "Tonight's the tournament match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Is that it? Are you trying to ruin Slytherin's chances? I admit that there's something highly suspect about that broom of hers, but cheating doesn't exactly seem like your style, James."

        "No! It doesn't have anything to do with the match," James said, and then faltered. "It's a lot to explain. And I'm not even allowed to talk about some of it. McGonagall asked me not to."

        "Tell us as much as you can, then," Petra said.

        "All right. Zane, Ralph, help me out. Fill in any bits I miss. It's going to sound pretty mad, but here goes." Between the three of them, they explained the entire story of the Merlin conspiracy, from the first glimpse of the shade of Madame Delacroix on the lake to the adventure at the Grotto Keep to Ralph and James' mysterious confrontation with the creepy dryad demanding the Merlin robe. They had to back up then, and explain how they'd come to capture the robe from Professor Jackson. James was worried that the story had become so fragmented that the Gremlins wouldn't be able to follow it. Ted listened intently the entire time, simply eating and watching whoever was speaking. The rest of the Gremlins asked clarifying questions and responded with a mixture of skepticism, awe and excitement.

        "You've been working this whole plot out all year and you're only now telling us about it?" Damien asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Like I said, McGonagall warned us not to tell anybody about the Grotto Keep," James said sincerely. "And we were worried that you wouldn't believe the rest of it, anyway. We had a hard time believing a lot of it ourselves. For a while, at least. So what do you think?"

        "I'm confused," Sabrina said, frowning. "The whole thing seems pretty patched together. It's one thing to shoot off Weasley fireworks during the debate, but it's something else entirely to go and steal the broom of one of the most prominent, and frankly, scary witches in the school. That's thievery, that is."

        "It's only thievery if what we're saying isn't true," Zane reasoned. "If Tabitha's broom is the Merlin staff, then it isn't hers, really. I don't know whose it is, but no matter what, she had to have stolen it somehow herself."

        Damien didn't seem convinced. "Even if she did, we'd be the only ones who knew that. If she hauls us all into the Headmistress' office claiming we stole her broom, what would we say? It's all right because she stole the broom herself from somebody, we don't know who, and besides, the broom is really the magic staff of the most powerful wizard ever, so we were really just doing the world a favor taking it out of Corsica's hands? That'll fly like a dead owl."

        "Well, why wouldn't it?" Ralph interjected. "If it's true, it's true."

        "And that came from the mouth of a Slytherin," Noah said, grinning crookedly.

        "What's that supposed to mean?" Ralph said, firming his jaw.

        James shook his head. "It's all right, Ralph. He's ragging you. The point is, yes, even if it is true, we might not be able to prove it. I won't tell you we might not get in trouble over this. I can only tell you that if it is true, then being hauled to McGonagall's office and called a thief is the least of our worries. I can't ask any of you to get involved if you don't want to. It's risky. We could all get in loads of trouble. We could even fail despite our best efforts."

        "Now wait a minute," Noah said, "this is the Gremlins you're talking about."

          Petra sat up straight and looked around at the group. "The thing is, if James, Zane, and Ralph are wrong, we'll know by tomorrow. If we did 'borrow' Corsica's broom, we could return it, somehow. Probably anonymously. No harm, no penalty. Everybody will just think it was a Quidditch prank, right? But if this story is true, and the broom really is the Merlin staff, then nobody will be dragging anybody to the Headmistress' office."

        "Why not?" Sabrina asked, interested.

        "Because Tabitha will have bigger fish to fry," Noah answered thoughtfully. "If she's part of some big Merlin conspiracy and she fails to come through with the staff, she'll be in some serious outs with her cronies. People like that don't tend to be very forgiving, you know. Why, we might never even see her again."

        "One can only hope," Petra muttered.

        Ted stirred. "Look here, all of you. This is all well and good, but as far as I'm concerned, there's only one thing to decide. Can we trust James? I don't know Zane and Ralph here all that well, but I grew up with James. He may have sometimes been an obnoxious little squitter, but he's always been honest. And besides, he's the son of my godfather. You remember that guy, don't you? I'm willing to take a little risk for him. Not just because he's family, but because he's a Potter. If he says there's a battle worth fighting, I'm inclined to believe him."

        "Well said, mate," Noah said gravely, slapping Ted on the back. "And besides, let's not forget that this does have the fringe benefit of pulling one over on Tabitha Corsica."

        "And perhaps balancing out tonight's Quidditch match," Sabrina admitted.

        "And maybe we could somehow snatch her broom when she's nice and high in the air!" Damien grinned nastily.

        "That's what I said!" Zane exclaimed.

        "You're both mad," Petra said reproachfully. "You're as bad as she is."

        "We don't want to kill her," Zane replied in a wounded voice. "We just want to see her drop a few hundred feet in terror. Ridcully would levitate her at the last moment, just like the Ralphinator did for James. Honestly, you must think we're monsters."

        "So are we all agreed, then?" Ted asked the group. Everyone nodded and murmured assent.

        "That's wonderful and all," Ralph said, "but how are we going to do it?"

        Ted leaned back and stared up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, stroking his chin. Slowly, he smiled. "Does anyone know what the weather is supposed to be like tonight?"

There was very little that the group needed to do to prepare. After lunch, Sabrina and Noah headed off to the basements to talk to the house-elves. James and Ted, both of whom had an afternoon free period, spent some time in the library studying a collection of gigantic books about Atmospheric and Weather Charms.

        "This is Petra's thing, really," Ted lamented. "If she wasn't busy all afternoon with Divination and Runes, we'd be a lot better off."

        James looked over their notes. "Looks like we've got what we need, though, doesn't it?"

        "I guess," Ted replied airily, flipping a few huge pages. A minute later, he looked up at James. "It was really tough for you to ask for help, wasn't it?"

        James glanced at Ted and met his eyes, then looked out a nearby window. "A little, yeah. I didn't know if I'd be able to explain it. I wasn't sure any of you would believe it."

Ted furrowed his brow. "Is that all?" he prodded.

        "Well…," James began, then stopped. He fiddled with his quill. "No, I guess not. It just seemed like… like something I was supposed to do on my own. I mean, with Zane and Ralph's help, sure. They were along with the whole thing from the start. But still. I kind of figured that, between the three of us, we'd be able to manage. We'd work it out. It felt a little like…" He stopped, realizing what he was about to say, surprised by it.

        "Like what?" Ted asked.

        James sighed. "Like a failure. Like if the three of us couldn't do it on our own, we'd failed, somehow."

        "The three of you. Like your dad and Ron and Hermione, you mean."

James glanced at Ted sharply. "What? No… no," he said, but suddenly he wasn't sure.

        "I'm just saying," Ted replied. "It makes sense. That's how your dad did it. He was a big one for taking on all the responsibilities of the world and not sharing the load with anyone else. He and Ron and Hermione. There were always loads of people around who were ready and willing to help, and sometimes, they did, but not until they'd pretty much forced themselves into the action." Ted shrugged.

        "You sound like Snape," James said, keeping his voice level. He felt uncomfortably vulnerable all of a sudden.

        "Well, maybe Snape's right, sometimes," Ted said mildly, "even if he was an oily old humbug most of the time."

"Yeah, well, blast him," James said, surprised to feel a prickle of tears. He blinked them away. "He was a load of help, wasn't he? Sneaking around, working both sides, never making it clear to anybody where his loyalties really lay until it was too late. Can't really blame my dad for not trusting him, can you? So I don't trust him either. Maybe my dad did do most stuff with just Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron. That was all he needed, wasn't it? They won. He'd found two people he could trust with everything. Well, I found them, too. I've got Ralph and Zane. So maybe I thought I could be as good as Dad. I'm not, though. I needed some help." There was more James meant to say, but he stopped, uncertain if he should continue.

        Ted looked at James for a long, thoughtful moment, and then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Tough thing living in the shadow of your dad, isn't it?" he said. James didn't reply. A moment later, Ted went on. "I never knew my dad. He died right here, on the school grounds. He and Mum both. They were in the Battle of Hogwarts, you know. You'd think that it would be hard to feel resentful of people you never knew, but you can. I resent them for dying. Sometimes, I resent them for being here at all. I mean, what were they thinking? Both of them rushing off into some big battle, leaving their kid at home. You call that responsible? I sure don't." Ted looked out the window as James had done a minute earlier. Then he sighed. "Ah well, most of the time, though, I'm proud of them. Somebody once said, if you don't have something worth dying for, you aren't really living. Mum and Dad had something worth dying for, and they did. I lost them, but I got a legacy out of it. A legacy is worth something, isn't it?" He looked across the table at James again, searching his face. James nodded, unsure what to say. Finally Ted shrugged a little. "The reason I bring it up, though, is my dad, he left me something else."

        Ted was quiet for almost a minute, thinking, apparently debating with himself. Finally, he spoke again. "Dad was a werewolf. I guess it's as simple as that. You didn't know that, did you?"

        James tried to keep his face from showing it, but he was quite shocked. He knew there had been something secret about Remus Lupin, something that had never been explained to him or even mentioned outright. All James knew for sure was that Lupin had been close friends with Sirius Black, James Potter the First, and a man named Peter Pettigrew that had eventually betrayed them all. James knew that Lupin had come to teach at Hogwarts when his dad was in school, and that Lupin had taught his dad how to summon his Patronus. Whatever the secret of Remus Lupin's past, it couldn't have been anything terribly serious, James had reasoned. He had thought perhaps Ted's father had been in Azkaban for a while or that he had once flirted with the Dark Arts when he was young. It had never crossed James' mind that Remus Lupin might have been a werewolf.

        Despite James' attempt to mask his shock, Ted saw it on his face and nodded. "Yeah, quite a secret, that was. Your dad told me the whole story himself a few years back, when I was old enough to understand it. Grandmum never talks about it at all, even now. I think she's afraid. Not so much of what was, but… well, what could be."

        James was a little afraid to ask. "What could be, Ted?"

Ted shrugged. "You know how it is with werewolves. There're only two ways to become one. You can get bitten by one or you can be born of one. Of course, nobody really knows exactly what happens when only your mum or dad is a werewolf. Your dad said that my dad was pretty upset when he found out Mum was going to have a baby. He was scared, see? He didn't want the kid to be like him, to grow up an outcast, cursed and hated. He thought he never should've even married my mum, because she wanted babies, but he was afraid to pass on the curse to them. Well, when I was born, I guess everybody breathed a big sigh of relief. I was normal. I got my mum's Metamorphmagus thing, even. They tell me I was always changing my hair color as a baby. Got no end of laughs about that, Grandmum says. I can still do it today, and a few other things, too. I usually don't, though. Once you get known for stuff like that, it's hard to be known for much else, if you know what I mean. So I guess Dad died feeling a bit better about having me, then. He died knowing I was normal, more or less. I'm glad of that." Ted was staring out the window again. He took a deep breath, and then looked back at James. "Harry told me how your Grandfather James, Sirius Black, and Pettigrew used to run with my dad when he changed, how they'd change into animal forms and accompany him around the countryside under the full moon, protecting him from the world and the world from him. I even started thinking it was all sort of adventurous and romantic, like those dopey Muggles who read those werewolf stories where the werewolves are all handsome and seductive and mysterious. I started almost wishing I had got the werewolf thing after all. And then…" Ted stopped and seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment. He lowered his voice and went on. "Well, the thing is, nobody really knows how all this werewolf stuff works, do they? I never gave it a second thought. But then, last year… last year, I started having insomnia. No big deal, right? Except it wasn't any normal insomnia. I couldn't sleep, but not because I wasn't tired, exactly. I was… I was…" He stopped again and leaned back in his chair, staring hard at the wall by the window.

        "Hey," James said, feeling nervous and embarrassed, although he didn't quite know why, "you don't have to tell me. Forget it. No problem."

        "No," Ted said, returning his gaze to James, "I do need to tell you. As much for me as for you. Because I haven't told anybody else yet, not even Grandmum. I think if I don't tell somebody, I'll go nutters. See, I couldn't sleep because I was so hungry. I was starved! I lay there in bed the first time it happened, telling myself that this was just crazy. I'd had a nice big dinner and everything, just like normal. But no matter what I told myself, my stomach just kept telling me it wanted food. And not just anything. It wanted meat. Raw meat. Fresh-off-the-bone meat. You see what I'm getting at?"

James understood. "It was…," he began, and then had to clear his throat. "It was a full moon?"

        Ted nodded grimly, slowly. "Eventually, I got to sleep. But since then, it's gotten worse. By the end of last school year, I finally started sneaking down to the kitchens below the Great Hall, where all the elves work. They have a big meat locker down there. I started to… well, you know. I ate. It tends to be a bit of a mess." Ted shuddered, and then seemed to shrug it off. "Anyway, the point is, obviously I didn't completely skip the whole werewolf thing. My dad gave me his own shadow to live in, didn't he? I don't blame him for it. For all I know, this is the worst it'll ever get. And this isn't all that bad. Helps me bulk up for Quidditch season, at least. But… it's scary, a little. I don't know how to manage it yet. And I'm afraid to tell anyone about it. People…" Ted swallowed and looked hard at James. "People don't respond well to werewolves."

James didn't know whether to agree with that or not. Not because it was untrue, but because he wasn't sure Ted needed any more affirmation of it. "My dad could help you, I bet," James said. "And me, too. I'm not afraid of you, Ted, even if you are a werewolf. I've known you my whole life. Maybe we could, you know, work it out like your dad and his mates did. He had his James Potter to help him, and you have yours."

        Ted smiled, and it was a huge, genuine smile. "You're a brick, James. I'd hate to have to eat you. Learn how to turn yourself into a giant dog, like Sirius did, and maybe being a werewolf wouldn't be so bad after all, with you trotting along next to me. But I almost forgot why I brought this up at all." Ted leaned forward again, his eyes serious. "You have the shadow of your dad to grow up in, just like me. But I can't choose whether I'm like my dad or not. You can. It's not a curse, James. Your dad's a great man. Pick the bits of who he is that are worth being like, and be like them, if you want. The other parts, well, that's your choice, isn't it? Take it or leave it. Those are the places where you can choose to be even better. Your dad didn't much ask for help, did he? But that's not because he didn't need it. The fact that you asked for help doesn't tell me you're worse than him. It tells me you learned something he never learned. That's you being you, not just a copy of your dad. I think that's pretty cool, if you ask me. And not just because it means I get to help pull a fast one on Tabitha Corsica."

        James was speechless. He simply stared at Ted, unsure what to feel or think, unsure if what Ted was saying was true or not. He knew only that it surprised him and humbled him, in a good way, to hear Ted say what he had. Ted closed the gigantic book in front of him with a loud clunk.

        "Come on," he said, standing and gathering the books together. "Help me get these to the common room so Petra can look them over before the match. She's going to have to help me get this right or we're doomed for sure. Dinner is in an hour, and after that, we're going to be pretty preoccupied for the rest of the night, if you know what I mean."

The afternoon of the last Quidditch match of the season was cool and misty, covered with a veil of restless, grey clouds. Silent and unusually somber, the Gremlins trooped through the tunnel behind the statue of St. Lokimagus the Perpetually Productive. When they reached the steps that led up to the interior of the equipment shed, Ted slowed and tiptoed. By now, Ridcully had probably already retrieved the Quidditch trunk from the shed, but it didn't hurt to be careful. Ted peered around the cramped space, saw only some dusty shelves and a few broken brooms, and then beckoned the rest to follow him up.

        "It's all clear. We should be safe in here, now that Ridcully's been and gone. He's the only one that uses the shed."

        Ralph climbed the steps and looked cautiously around. James remembered that Ralph hadn't been along the night he and the Gremlins had used this secret tunnel to go raise the Wocket. "It's a magic tunnel. It only works one way," he whispered to Ralph. "We can get back through it because it's the way we came, but anybody else would just find the inside of the equipment shed."

        "Cool," Ralph breathed meaningfully. "That's good to know."

        James, Ralph, and Sabrina pressed against the rear of the shed to peer through the single, grimy window. The Quidditch pitch lay behind the shed, and they could clearly see three of the grandstands, already mostly filled with banner-waving students and teachers, all bundled against the unseasonable chill. The Ravenclaw and Slytherin teams were gathering along opposite sides of the pitch to observe their captains shaking hands and listen to Ridcully's traditional recital of the basic rules of play.

        "I forgot all about this," Sabrina said quietly. "The whole handshaking thing. That Zane is a pretty sharp fellow."

        James nodded. It had been Zane's idea to stage the broom caper during the opening moments of the match, in those few minutes when both teams came out of their holding pens beneath the grandstands to watch the opening ritual. It was a genius idea, because it was the only time when the teams' brooms were separated from their owners, left behind in the holding pens until the teams collected them for their big flying introductions.

        "It's time," Ted said, tapping James once on the shoulder. "There's Corsica already."

        James swallowed past a lump in his throat that felt like a marble. His heart was already pounding. He pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of his backpack, shook it open and threw it over his and Ralph's heads. As they neared the door of the shed, Petra whispered harshly, "I can see your feet. Ralph, duck down some more." Ralph hunkered and James saw the edge of the cloak meet the ground around his feet.

        "Stay low and move fast," Ted instructed. He turned and peered between the planks of the door. The equipment shed was positioned at a corner of the pitch, just inside the magical boundary erected by the match official. The door faced away from the pitch, visible only to the Slytherin grandstands right next to it.

        "Looks clear enough," Ted said, his face pressed to the cracks in the door. "Let's just hope

everybody's looking at the pitch and not this shed." With that, he pushed the door open and stepped aside. James and Ralph shuffled through and James heard the door clunk shut behind them.

        The wind was shifty and unpredictable. It barreled across the pitch and swatted restlessly at the Invisibility Cloak, flapping it about the boys' legs.

        "Somebody's going to see my feet," Ralph moaned.

        "We're almost there already," James said under the noise of the crowd. "Just stay close and keep down."

        Through the transparent fabric of the Invisibility Cloak, James could see the dark mouth of the doorway into the Slytherin holding pen. The great doors were swung wide open, latched to the walls of the grandstand to keep them from blowing shut. The Slytherin players were lined up along the pitch on the other side of the doorway, close enough that a careless word or a flicker of their shoes might be noticed. James held his breath and resisted the urge to run. Slowly, the two boys sidled past the nearest Slytherin player, Tom Squallus, and slipped into the shadow of the doorway. Inside, the wind fell away and the cloak hung still. James let his breath out in a careful hiss.

        "Come on," he whispered almost soundlessly. "We don't have much time."

        James knew what the Gremlins were planning, even though he wasn't going to see any of it. Zane, who was watching along with his teammates on the Ravenclaw side of the pitch, told him all about it later. As Tabitha and Gennifer Tellus, the Ravenclaw Captain, walked to meet Ridcully at the centerline of the pitch, a strange sound began to build in the air overhead. All day, the sky had been low and sluggish, packed with grey clouds, but now, as the spectators and players glanced up, the clouds had begun to circle ponderously. There was a bulge in the clouds directly over the pitch, spiraling in on itself and lowering even as the crowd watched. The general noise of the assembly quieted, and the sound of the clouds in that silence was a deep, vibrating groan, long and menacing. With only his eyes, Zane glanced toward the equipment shed at the far corner of the pitch. He could just see the shapes of Ted and Petra, ducked low in the corners of the tiny window, their wands raised, teasing the cloud shapes. He smiled, and then, when the timing was perfect and the entire pitch had fallen silent, he called out across the pitch, "Quidditch is never called on account of weather, right, Gennifer?"