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

The face vanished from the fire. The Headmistress reached for her poker and poked studiously at the
embers for several seconds, strewing them so that no hint of the face remained. She replaced the poker,
turned her back to the fire, and said, “Insufferable bureaucratic poppycock.”
“I’ll be happy to lodge Mr. Prescott in the Alma Aleron quarters,” Franklyn said, putting his glasses
back on. “I’d prefer to keep a close eye on him, anyway. I suspect we can keep him busy enough to prevent
him causing any more trouble.”
“I don’t like this at all,” Neville said, still looking at the fireplace. “Harry should be here. Prescott
himself isn’t a dark wizard, of course, but there is something extremely dodgy about how he got here at all.
Somebody led him here, and that person somehow circumvented the Vow of Secrecy. I don’t care what
Sacarhina says, I’d feel a lot better with a decent Auror looking into it.”
The Headmistress opened her door. “At this point, it is out of our hands. Professor Franklyn, your
idea is as good as any. Let us escort Mr. Prescott to the Alma Aleron quarters. And despite what Miss
Sacarhina might believe, I’d prefer for us to arrange for Mr. Prescott to be quite busy for the next twenty-four
hours. The less time he has to explore the school, the better. Mr. Potter, please feel free to return to your
classes, and although I suspect I cannot ask you not to speak of this to Mr. Walker and Mr. Deedle, I’d be
quite happy if you managed not to talk of it to anyone else. Especially Ted Lupin or Noah Metzker.”
As James followed the adults out of the office, a quiet voice spoke to him from the wall. “Going to
be quite a busy day tomorrow, Potter.”
James stopped and glanced at the portrait of Severus Snape, not entirely sure what he meant. “I guess
so. At least for the Headmistress and everybody.”
Snape’s black eyes bored into him. “Answer me truthfully, Potter: are you still laboring under the
delusion that Tabitha Corsica is in possession of the Merlin staff?”
“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.”
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