The Vault of Destinies (James Potter #3) (49 page)

Finally, as the match neared its end, James grew desperate enough to perform one of the spells that he had learned during his earlier school years. As he circled the course, he noticed an Igor Bully preparing to cast a Lanyard Charm on Jazmine Jade, intending to use it to yank one of the Clutches out of her hands. James sped up, hunkered over his skrim, and swept his own wand from the sheath in his gauntlet.

"
Expelliarmus!"
he cried, aiming for the Igor boy's outstretched wand. Instantly, the wand sprang from the boy's fist and spun off into the misty night. The crowd responded with a shocked outburst and a whistle pierced the air nearby.

"Penalty!" Professor Sanuye called out, swooping in on his broom. "Team Bigfoot, nonapproved magic. Two minutes in the dock."

Shaking his head in confusion, James circled out of the course and flew toward the platform. Oliver Wood met him there, scowling.

"What was that all about?" the professor demanded as James hopped off his skrim.

"Magic!" James exclaimed angrily. "The other team is using it! Why aren't we?"

Wood grabbed James' skrim as it bobbed into the air. "We don't play that kind of match, James!" he said sternly. "We're a team of solid fundamentals and textbook formations. Nothing unsportsmanlike. We may not always win, but we walk away knowing we played a fair match. Besides, that was a
dueling
spell, not approved Clutchcudgel game magic! You're lucky you didn't get ejected from the match, and me along with you!"

"It was just a Disarming Spell," James fumed, turning away. "Besides, I might as well
be
ejected. The match will be over before my dock time is over."

Wood sighed, looking out over the match as it sped through its final moments. "I give you points for enthusiasm, James, but you'll need to learn some self-control. We Bigfoots pride ourselves on a clean game. If you can't abide by that, then no amount of flying skills will make up for it."

James simply looked aside at the professor, speechless. Less than a minute later, the final whistle blew and Sanuye raised his wand, summoning the Clutches. Bigfoot team had lost the match by a score of forty-eight to thirty. Both teams broke up and circled around, heading toward their respective gantry platforms while the crowd cheered and jeered amiably from the grandstands all around.

James stepped forward, took his skrim from Professor Wood, and without waiting for his teammates, began to tromp down the stairs to the locker room below.

"But magic is
allowed
in Clutchcudgel!" James exclaimed some hours later, sitting in the corner booth of the Kite and Key along with Ralph, Zane, and several of his fellow Bigfoot teammates. "What's Wood want to hobble us for by banning us from using something that's legal?"

"
Expelliarmus
spells aren't legal," Jazmine Jade grumped, her chin resting on her forearms.

"Yeah," Norrick agreed. "And we
do
use
some
magic. Wood used
Impervius
charms on our goggles, for one."

"We're allowed to use Gummy-Glove Charms when we're carrying the Clutch," Harold Gobbins added. "And Slipstream Hexes to keep our skrims steady on the course."

"Those hardly count at all," James insisted. "Team Igor was using
serious
spellwork out there tonight! Some of that stuff I've never even heard of!"

Jazmine sat up. "Makes sense. They have their own sport-magic coach whose job is to come up with all new Clutch spells. They have to get approved by the match official, but they pretty much always get a pass, so long as they don't hurt anyone."

"It's true," Zane said. "Team Zombie's magic coach came up with a new one last year that froze a player's skrim in midair. Granted, the player was probably going to fall off once his skrim jerked to a stop beneath him, but that wasn't the spell's fault. We got away with it until that playoff match where half of the players from both teams got into a pileup crash around a frozen skrim. It was hilarious!"

James narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "Hold on. You mean if I had just
told
Sanuye before the match that I wanted to use an
Expelliarmus
spell for defense, it would've been legal?"

Wentworth Paddington frowned and pushed his large glasses up on his nose. "The official Clutch commission doesn't like players using dueling spells during matches," he said with a sniff. "But there are ways to get around it. There's the Knuckler, for instance."

"Makes the opposing player's hand spasm and drop anything they're holding," Jazmine explained. "Works on wands, Clutches, whatever."

Zane nodded enthusiastically. "And don't forget the Bonefuse Hex. Works just like
Petrificus Totalus
, but only on selected areas of the body. Aim for the other guy's arm and he won't be able to do anything with it for five minutes, at least."

James was shaking his head in exasperation. "So basically there's a Clutch-approved version of any sort of spell, with new ones being created all the time. Is that it?"

Jazmine pressed her lips together and nodded. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

James flopped back in the booth seat. "So who's the Bigfoot magic coach, then? I want to have a word with him."

"Wood, I guess," Wentworth answered uncertainly. "Anyone want the rest of my Butterbeer? I can only drink half or else I get the hiccups all night long."

"Right here, Went," Gobbins announced, sitting up in his seat and reaching for the smaller boy's bottle. "I'll teach you how to put away a drink."

Wentworth looked offended. "I can put away a drink just fine. It's Butterbeer I can't take much of. I'm on a special diet, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," Norrick sighed, rolling his eyes. "We know all about it. Yeats hasn't cooked an onion in the mansion ever since you arrived. Makes liver night pretty pathetic. That's why everyone eats in the caf on Fridays, even the upper classes."

"I can't help it," Wentworth mumbled, crossing his arms. "Onions break me out in hives. Garlic's even worse. You don't have to rub it in."

"Maybe rubbing it in would cure you," Ralph suggested, raising his head. "Have you ever tried it? Rub some onions and garlic all over you, sort of like a vaccination!"

"Add a little butter and you got yourself a new Friday night dinner option," Zane nodded. "Grilled Pastington patties for all!"

"Hah hah," Wentworth said dourly. "It's a serious medical condition. You don't even know."

James finished his Butterbeer and stood up, announcing his intention to go have a talk with Wood about the team's woeful lack of a magic game. On his way toward the door, he saw Albus and Lucy seated at a nearby table, watching a group of older students play an incomprehensible table game called Wizard Foosball. Tiny ceramic men spun on metal rods embedded into the sides of the recessed table, operated by leather-wrapped handles. A small white ball bounced and clacked over the field encased in the table's walls, kicked by the spinning figures. As James passed the table, one of the players spun the rod violently and the ball popped up out of the table. James caught it deftly.

"Nice catch, Cornelius," one of the upperclassmen players called out. "Still got your game face on, eh?"

James glanced back at them and saw the young men smiling at him amiably, nodding with something like grudging approval.

"Give the ball back!" one of the tiny ceramic players cried in a squeaky voice. The others joined in, jeering raucously. James tossed the ball back to the man who'd spoken to him. The man caught it easily but didn't turn away.

"You did good out there tonight, Potter," the man said. James noticed that he was wearing the orange and blue striped sweater of a Bigfoot college student, most of whom lived in the rowhouses behind the theater. "Don't let Wood hold you back, eh?"

James tilted his head at the older boys. "Any of you know why Wood doesn't use any serious magic in the Bigfoot Clutch matches?"

The college students exchanged glances, smiling crookedly. Finally, the one in the Bigfoot sweater said, "Wood's a decent guy, don't get me wrong. Word is, he left his guts back on the Quidditch pitch in jolly old England, that's all."

The other men laughed and shook their heads. A moment later, they returned to their game.

"I'm sure that's not true," a voice said softly nearby. James glanced aside and saw Lucy and Albus moving next to him. "You came close to winning tonight, even without all that fancy magic."

"Nice flying out there, big brother," Albus agreed reluctantly. "I tried out for Team Werewolf, but they just laughed at me. Said that only true-blood Americans get to fight on behalf of Werewolf House."

"That's awful," Lucy frowned. "
And
against school policy."

"Not when it comes to Clutch," Albus shrugged. "Every house gets to make their own rules about who can be on the team as well as how often they practice, what gear they wear, all that kind of thing. I did sneak out to the field and try out one of those skrims. Let's just say I won't be pushing the issue with my new mates. I
did
make the Werewolf Quidditch Team, though, mainly because they were a man short after their best Beater graduated last year. I'll be facing off against your mate Zane this coming Thursday night. Mum, Dad, and Lil are coming."

James glanced at his brother as they drifted toward the rear entrance of the Kite and Key. "Did you see them tonight?"

"Yeah, didn't you?" Albus replied. "They sat with me in the Werewolf grandstand. Mum covered her eyes most of the time, saying she couldn't bear to look. Dad had his wand in his hand through the whole match, twitching it every time you went through the intersection, like he was ready to jump up and levitate you at any moment if you decided to fall off your skrim. He was grinning, though, that mad grin he gets when he watches Quidditch matches back home. You know. Like part of him wants to put on the pads, grab a broom, and jump out there with the team."

James couldn't help smiling at the thought. "I know what you mean. Are they still here?"

Lucy shook her head. "Your father got some sort of message through his own Shard. His is smaller. He keeps it wrapped up in his robes all the time, just so he never misses anything. After he got the message, he and Aunt Ginny and Lily left right away. They asked me to tell you hello and that they are proud of you."

"They asked
me
to tell him that," Albus said, turning to Lucy, who avoided his eyes.

"There's this thing called double redundancy," she explained carefully. "They thought you'd forget."

Albus rolled his eyes. "I didn't forget. I just didn't remember it until you brought it up. Nobody can blame me if you beat me to it."

"I'm heading back to my house," James announced, pushing open the heavy wooden door. "I'm completely beat."

Lucy followed him out into the misty darkness. "I'll walk with you for the first bit," she said. "I'm heading back to the castle. I have Magi-American History in the morning, and I still have some reading to do for it."

James grunted amiably and struck off along the footpath next to Lucy. After a moment, she spoke again.

"For a giant, that Professor Bunyan is one sharp bloke, isn't he?"

James shrugged. "I guess. Seems like he comes from a completely different tribe of giants, doesn't it?"

"He says he isn't part of a tribe at all. He says he just grew big because when he was a lad he ate twenty chickens and fifteen dozen eggs a day."

"And drank the milk of ten cows and swam laps around Lake Erie for exercise until the whole lake turned into a giant whirlpool," James nodded, smiling. "You believe any of that?"

Lucy shook her head. "I think those are what the Americans call 'tall tales'. They're sort of like a mix between a myth and a legend."

"I like the one about the magic fog that sprang up around George Washington and his little army of farmers and kids back during the war for independence; the one that hid them from all those huge British warships that were looking for them."

"I think that one was true," Lucy suggested uncertainly. "Although it's hard to know what's myth and fact about the Americans' history. So much of it seems so… unreal."

James raised his eyebrows in the darkness as they walked. "I don't know about history, but it still feels pretty unreal to me, even now."

Lucy laughed, but there was something odd about the sound of it. James glanced aside at her.

"What's up with you, Lu?" he asked.

She looked at him, and then glanced quickly away. "Nothing. What do you mean?"

James looked out over the campus. "We passed the footpath to Erebus Castle back there by the Octosphere, you know."

Lucy gazed back the way they'd come. "You're right," she agreed. "Silly me. Er, I guess I'll head back then. Goodnight James."

James watched as Lucy smiled at him in the darkness, and then turned and ran back along the wet footpath. Her black hair bounced around her shoulders and shone in the light of a nearby lamppost. When she reached it, she glanced back, saw him watching, and stopped.

"You did really well tonight," she called out after a moment's pause. "I was proud of you for trying to use magic even if it did get you into trouble."