G. Norman Lippert - James Potter and the Hall of Elders Crossing
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The last weeks of the school year spun out before James like a blur, remarkably free of deathly peril and adventure, but packed nonetheless with the lesser stresses of schoolwork and final essays and wand practicals, all of which were relatively welcome in the wake of the Hall of Elders' Crossing. To no one's great surprise, Hufflepuff was awarded the House Cup, being the only house to avoid major point deductions for involvement in the various Merlin conspiracy skullduggeries. The broomstick caper alone had cost Ravenclaw and Gryffindor fifty points each.
On the morning of the last day of school, James was stuffing his books and extra school robes into his trunk when Noah pounded up the stairs calling for him.
"Ron Weasley's in the fireplace. He wants to talk to you."
James grinned. "Excellent! Tell him I'll be right there!"
"James, look at you!" Uncle Ron cried when James tromped down the stairs a minute later, still tying his tie. "All respectable and everything. Have a good year, did you?"
James nodded. "I guess I did. Looks like I'll pass, after all. Spent all of Monday night getting ready for Franklyn's D.A.D.A. practical, then had the most horrible sensation that I'd forgotten everything five minutes before the test."
"I wasn't exactly talking about your schoolwork, you dunce," said the face in the embers, grinning crookedly. "Your dad told me all about the Merlin conspiracy you uncovered. That's brilliant stuff, and no mistake."
"Yeah, well," James said sheepishly, "it was all pretty exciting there for a while, but it's weird. Five weeks of schoolwork and suddenly all of that seems like it happened to someone else."
That's the way of it," Ron nodded. "The dull parts of life spread out in your memory and crowd out the exciting parts until they just seem like little flashes. It's the way your brain copes with it all, I guess. Speaking of which, how's Professor Jackson doing?"
James rolled his eyes. "Nothing can keep old Stonewall down for long. He wasn't really injured in his duel with Delacroix, even though his backup wand wasn't as powerful as the one she broke. Apparently, he chased her through the woods for hours and finally cornered her in a clearing. He says he'd have gotten her, except that she cheated, calling on the enemy naiads and dryads to fight with her. The trees attacked him from behind, knocking him out. That's how he got the big bruise on his forehead. Still, he was back in class the day after Prescott left, and he's been raining fire on Zane and me ever since."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Can't really blame him, I guess."
"We gave him back his briefcase and apologized and everything. I mean, I know we ruined his lifelong quest to protect the relic robe and prevent the return of the most dangerous wizard of all time and all, but come on. Merlin turned out to be all right. Delacroix got sent back to the States to stand trial in the American wizarding courts. Everything worked out in the end, didn't it?"
"All I can say is if I was him, I'd wish you spiders in your drawers for the rest of your life," Ron mused. "But that's just me. My mind tends to go that way."
"Honestly, Uncle Ron. I want to make it right. I liked Professor Jackson at first."
"At the risk of sounding like a responsible adult, James, actions have consequences. Apologizing is great, but 'sorry' isn't a magic word. You not only ruined Jackson's plans, you took a stab at his pride. You succeeded in foiling him. In his mind, you made a fool out of him. That's a hard thing for a bloke like him to get over. Frankly, you can't blame him, can you?"
"Good man. Still, don't get too wrapped up in classwork, you. You've got a reputation to live up to."
"Or down to," Noah's voice quipped from nearby.
"I heard that, Metzker," Ron said sternly. "It's a proud Potter tradition, squeaking by in school. Started with James Potter the first. Besides, you're one to talk, Mr. Gremlin."
"Got high marks this year, all across the board," Noah said primly.
Ron grinned again. "Thanks to your friend Petra, no doubt. She's to you Gremlins what Hermione was for Harry and me. Hold on. She wants to say hello, James."
The face in the coals sank out of sight. A moment later, Hermione's pleasant smile and perpetually bushy hair formed. "James, you look very handsome," she said proudly. "Don't you listen to your uncle. He studied plenty and was just as worried about marks as anyone."
"That's not true!" a muffled voice called from the depths of the fireplace. Hermione grimaced.
"Well, almost anyone," she conceded. "Anyway, your mum and dad will be very proud of you, and so are your uncle and me. Oh, I just can't believe how fast the time goes. It seems like only yesterday that we were all still there," she sighed, looking around the common room. "It looks almost exactly the same. We'll have to make a point of visiting next year. It'll be nice to see the old place again." Even in the embers, Aunt Hermione's eyes glistened a little. She blinked, and then returned her gaze to James. "Anyway, James. Ron's been talking to your father, you know, and the two of them wanted to ask you something. I thought it'd be best if someone besides either of them brought it up, though, because, frankly, they're both so silly about it that they'd influence your response."
"What is it?" James asked, squatting down in front of the fireplace.
"Don't kneel," Hermione chided automatically. "You'll scuff up your pants with ash. It's about the Headmistress. She's planning to retire, you know."
James didn't know. "She is? But what would she do with herself?"
Hermione gave James a look that said she'd just remembered how old he was. "Minerva McGonagall has quite a life outside the walls of Hogwarts, James, as difficult as that may be for you believe. She's even, I understand, taken Mr. Finney up on his offer of dinner in London."
"She did?" James hooted.
"She did?" Noah chimed almost simultaneously from the couch, looking up from a book.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It was a purely professional meeting, I can assure you both. She performed a few minor memory modifications upon Mr. Finney, not really causing him to forget his visit here, but altering it. It's all a part of Mr. Dolohov's programme to 'clean'--as he calls it--the school's security record. Still," Hermione added, lowering her voice a bit, "she did speak rather highly of Mr. Finney. It would be quite nice to think that she might find a, er, companion for herself. After all"
"Hermione!" Ron's voice barked from the depths of the fireplace again.
"Anyway," Hermione said, turning businesslike. "Yes, the Headmistress does plan to retire, possibly as soon as this summer, assuming a suitable replacement could be found. Most likely, she will stay on to teach Transfiguration and help the new headmaster, whoever he or she might be. Some had suggested Neville Longbottom, but the Ministry feels he might be a bit young for the post, which is just silly, but politics being what they are"
"Merlin!" James exclaimed. "You're all thinking of asking him to be the new headmaster!"
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