James smiled at the thought of Zane, even under these circumstances. Scorpius pretended not to like the blonde American, but James knew better. Wherever Zane and Scorpius weren’t complete opposites, they were extremely alike. “I’ll give him all your love,” he agreed.
The three whiled away a disconsolate half-hour as the common room crowd slowly thinned. James was anxious to be underway, assuming the plan would work, but tried to obey Odin-Vann’s timeframe as much as his patience would allow.
Finally, he stood and admitted that he could wait no longer.
Rose nodded, drew her wand surreptitiously from the pocket of her jeans and flicked it at James, muttering something under her breath.
Nothing happened visibly, but James stumbled backwards a step as something soft seemed to whump him in the chest. He blinked and a wave of pleasant dizziness fell over him, “Off with you,” Rose commanded urgently. “Scorpius is right.
You’ll be dreaming on the stairs if you don’t hurry.”
James turned and made his way to the entrance to the boys’ dormitory. The floor seemed to tilt gently beneath him, pulling him off course so that he bumped the edge of the door with his shoulder. The sensation was muffled, almost pleasant. The stairs felt steeper than usual. He leaned forward and used his hands to pull himself up the flights, both steadying and hurrying, nearly falling up the steps. Rose’s sleepiness spell was indeed immensely strong.
He almost forgot to collect his Duck after all—nearly threw himself onto his bed fully clothed before remembering that final detail.
He fumbled in his open trunk, feeling more than looking. His fingers clutched the soft rubber and he clutched it to his chest, giving the Duck an accidental squeeze.
“Daft Dew-beater!”
James half-fell, half-crawled up onto his bed, his head swimming amiably, already dipping into a dreaming fugue.
His last incoherent thought was that the Duck in his hand was a Quaffle. He was flying over the nighttime pitch, preparing to score, but the goal rings were no longer guarded by Lily. Now, strangely, they were protected by the figure of Donofrio Odin-Vann, who opened his arms to block the shot. As he did, his cloak spread wide like dragon wings, seamlessly black, covering everything, covering the entire world.
James fell into the blackness, still clutching the Quaffle-Duck to his chest, and the blackness sucked him in. It streamed past him first like a wind, and then like a hurricane gale, and finally like smothering water, compressed and swift, carrying him helplessly faster and faster, breaking through the fog of Rose’s sleep charm with a stab of sudden fear.
Fighting against the rushing dark, he finally broke through, gasped urgently, and sat up.
He was no longer in his bed in Gryffindor Tower. Instead, he was sitting on a cushion of fresh grass beneath a dusky evening sky. A huge shape hulked next to him. James blinked up at it, still muddy-headed, knowing that he should recognize the shape but not quite able to do so. It wasn’t until the voice spoke up next to him, startling him badly, that it all began to make sense.
“Sheesh, James!” Zane’s voice rasped, full of shocked urgency.
“Are you all right? Did that, like, hurt?”
“What do you mean?” James asked, clutching his head as if to hold it together. He turned to see Zane drop into an urgent squat next to him. Peering past the blonde boy, he asked, “Is that Apollo Mansion?”
“The very same,” Zane answered distractedly, leaning to examine James. “Seriously, you’re okay? You fell out of nowhere like a comet, hit the ground hard enough to rattle the windows!”
James’ head was clearing slowly. With Zane’s help he climbed unsteadily to his feet. “I’m fine. I guess. Really good to see you, mate.
Am I really here? Alma Aleron?”
Zane shrugged. “As here as I am, looks to me. I think you dropped your Duck, though.”
James glanced around and saw the rubber Duck lying a few feet away in the grass. He retrieved it and pushed it into his pocket. Taking a moment to look around, he finally recognized the bulk of Apollo mansion, home to Bigfoot house. It still sat atop Victory Hill overlooking the quadrangle and the enormous brick shape of Administration Hall, with its imposing clock tower. According to it, local time was just past six in the evening. The only major difference to the scene since James had last been there was the lack of the broken werewolf statue, which had long since been cleared away now that the Wolves’ reign of unnatural Clutchcudgel tournament wins had been ended.
Returning to Zane, James said blearily, “It’s good to be back, even if it’s only for a little while. But how is this supposed to happen?
We can’t just open the Nexus Curtain like we did last time, can we?
The house has to be empty, for one thing.”
Zane managed to look mildly wounded. “Like I can’t manage the simple task of clearing a house for an evening? I just told them the place had come down with a sudden infestation of Streeler snails.” He bobbed his head and glanced back at the plain, blocky fa?ade of Apollo mansion. “Mainly because I infested it with Streeler snails,” he added with a shrug. “But it wasn’t hard to get everybody out. Tonight’s the first Clutch match between The Bigfoots and the Vampires. The snails were just insurance. I’m supposed to be clearing them out while everyone’s away. No problem. The Nexus Curtain works as a portal for every living thing from the cornerstone up. I hope those slimy, venomous little brutes are happy in their new home in the Double-you Bee Double-you.” He looked a little wistful.
James nodded. “So you have the horseshoe, then?” The silver horseshoe, James well knew, was the key that opened the dimensional gate, converting the entire house into a portal.
Zane nodded and patted the bulge in his jeans pocket. “I probably shouldn’t carry it around like this, should I?” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Who knows what kind of trans-dimensional radiation the thing gives off, eh? Ah well, it’ll either make it impossible for me to have kids, or make them super-powered mutants if I do. I should start thinking up possible superhero names.”
“How did you come by it, anyway?” James asked, looking down at the darkly glimmering silvery shape. “That thing’s got to be under a thousand spells of protection these days, doesn’t it?”
Zane shrugged. “Got it from the same place we got it the first time we went through the nexus curtain. Remember that? Petra had it.
Pulled it right out of her pocket. Normally, this thing lives under twenty-four-hour protection up in the Tower of Art. But Petra, you know,” he shrugged in grave wonderment. “How does she do any of the things she does?”
“Where is she,” James asked, glancing around. “Or Odin-Vann.
Have you met him already? Tall, skinny bloke with a little pointy goatee?”
“Petra’s inside,” Zane nodded at the mansion again. “Along with Izzy. They have to stay totally out of sight until the last moment.
That other dude is in there, too.”