Book 1 - James Potter and the Hall of Elders' Crossing

“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m not sure. Say no, then! How should I know?”
sure.”
James turned back to the gargoyle, which seemed to be staring fixedly at James’ shoes. “Er, yeah,
The gargoyle rolled its eyes. “Lucky guess.” It straightened and stood aside, revealing the entry to
the spiral staircase. The three boys shuffled toward it and clambered onto the lower steps. As soon as all three
were on it, the staircase began to rise slowly, carrying them up with it. The hall outside the Headmistress’
office lowered into view before them, and they stumbled into it, swearing and jostling each other under the
cloak.
“That’s it,” Ralph said in an annoyed voice. He yanked at the cloak, struggling out from underneath
it, and then let out a stifled shriek. James and Zane pulled the cloak off their heads and glanced around
nervously, looking for whatever had startled Ralph. The ghost of Cedric Diggory was standing in front of
them, smiling mischievously.
“You’ve really got to stop doing that,” Ralph said breathlessly.
Sorry, Cedric said in his far-off voice. I was asked to be here.
“Who asked you?” James inquired, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. The hair on the
back of his neck was still prickling. “How would anyone know we were coming here tonight?”
Cedric just smiled and then gestured toward the heavy door that led into the Headmistress’ office. It
was shut tight. How’d you plan to get past that?
James felt his face heat a little in embarrassment. “I forgot about that,” he admitted. “Locked, is it?”
Cedric nodded. Don’t worry about it. That’s why I’m here, I guess. The ghost turned and walked
effortlessly through the door. A moment later, the three boys heard the sounds of the lock being unbolted.
The door swung open silently and Cedric grinned, welcoming them in. James entered first, and Zane and
Ralph were surprised to see him turn immediately away from the Headmistress’ massive desk. The room was
extremely dim but for the reddish light of the banked fireplace. James lit his wand and held it up.
“Get that thing out of my face, Potter,” a voice drawled quietly. “You’ll wake the rest with it, and I
suspect that this is meant to be a private conversation.”
James lowered his wand again and glanced around at the rest of the portraits. All of them were
sleeping in various poses, snoring gently. “Yeah, you’re right,” James agreed. “Sorry.”
“So you deduced a version of the truth, I see,” the portrait of Severus Snape said, his black eyes
locked on James. “Tell me what you believe you know.”
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