James was still speechless, but he agreed with a nod, allowing his sister’s enthusiasm to drag him along, into the warmth and light of the common room, where a round of spontaneous applause greeted him.
James’ face reddened, but he didn’t mind. He saw Deirdre and Graham beaming at him, along with Xenia Prince, Marcus Cobb, Walter Stebbins, and the rest of the Gryffindor team. James had gotten what he wanted after all: something to distract him from the worries and sadness of the past several hours.
As the team surrounded him, patting him on the back and ruffling his hair, James thought: this might almost, possibly, be better even than kissing Millie Vandergriff again.
But only almost.
The school year finally began to settle from the exciting unpredictability of new classes and schedules to the familiar pattern of assignments and homework, busy week-days and too-short weekends.
Autumn stole over the grounds like a thief, absconding with the hot afternoons and leaving footprints of mist, even curling frost, on the morning-bright windows. The Forbidden Forest began to replace its seamless green with hues of coppery orange, neon yellow, and glossy maroon. The wind became stiffer across the lake, which shivered into choppy waves, as if applauding the oncoming change of seasons.
For James, as the days turned into weeks, there was no more word from Petra, nor any nighttime treks to see her via the invisible, private ribbon that connected them. He didn’t sense that she was shutting him out so much as that she, like him, was simply in waiting mode, with little to do while Professor Odin-Vann prepared the recaptured crimson thread for its return to the mystical Loom from which it, as the symbol of Morgan, had been plucked. According to the Professor, there was a good bit of magic that needed to go along with the returned thread in order to reset the Loom and jump-start the Vault of Destinies again.
Or perhaps, James mused disconsolately, the young professor, like James himself, was simply reluctant to see his old friend vanish from the world forever, and was finding reasons to delay her departure. Zane believed this firmly, implying, via the Shard, that Odin-Vann and Petra were much more than friends.
“His eyes go all ablaze whenever he’s around her,” he insisted one afternoon, half-a-month after the debacle of the World Between the Worlds. “You saw it yourself. When they talk about what he calls her ‘final mission’, he gets so antsy he looks like he’s about to jump right out of his skin. They obviously have a thing.”
James, retying his tie after mid-day Quidditch practice, shrugged and shook his head at the Shard where it lay propped on his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory. He knew what Zane meant by “a thing”, of course, and didn’t like it in the least. Not because he didn’t think it was true, or even likely—it was far more plausible that Petra would fall for the worldly-wise older man than the younger friend still in school—but because he hated the thought so intensely. He hated the jealousy it provoked in his chest mostly because he loved Petra himself, but also because he liked Professor Odin-Vann. He liked the professor’s odd quirks and restrained fervor and his commitment to helping Petra.
Still, if the young man did harbor a romantic affection for Petra, how could James blame him? Maybe, at least, it meant that Petra would enjoy her last days in the world she was born into. If James’ love for her was true, he would want her to be happy, right? Even if that meant finding comfort and love in another man’s arms.
The thought made him prickle all over as he knotted his tie violently under his chin, his hair still damp from a cursory shower.
With a yawn, Zane said, “But I still think this whole ‘magical catalyst’ thing Odin-Vann’s on about is complete Doxie doo.” It was still morning, Zane’s time, and he was lounging in his pajamas—a pair of too-short bottoms printed with bright blue snowflakes beneath an orange tee shirt—seated cross-legged on the rumple of his bed with a steaming mug of coffee balanced on one knee. “I may not like old Professor Stonewall much, but I trust his gigantic noggin. If he says all that’s needed is for the thread to be put back into the Loom, then that’s the way it is. Snap, bang, and Petra is gone to her new dimension. But I guess there’s no harm in being overly prepared, right? Especially if it’s just an excuse for the pointy-bearded professor Odin-Vann to have a few more romantic evenings with his doomed love.”
James said goodbye to Zane abruptly and stuffed the Shard back into his trunk, not wishing to think any further about Odin-Vann and Petra having “romantic evenings”, no matter how doomed.
The truth was, as the days began to tick by like minutes on a clock, James knew that he had to get over his own hopeless affection for Petra. It would only make it harder for both of them to do what needed to be done. And if Petra was indeed romantically involved with Odin-Vann, then perhaps that was all the better.
James, on the other hand, had Millie Vandergriff.
Almost without any official declaration, the two of them had become what Zane referred to as “a thing”, and subtly, the dynamic of James’ entire school experience had changed.
Millie met him occasionally in the halls and walked to classes or meals with him. Sometimes (though not always) she would reach for his hand and hold it lightly as they walked, talking breezily of this or that, pretending to ignore the electricity of their laced fingers, while other students (usually girls) watched furtively and whispered.
Millie often joined James, alongside Ralph and Rose and sometimes Scorpius, for study sessions and homework in the library.
She even came, on rare occasions, to hang out with James in the Gryffindor common room. He returned the gesture once, going to see her in the Hufflepuff quarters, which were low and warm, accessed by a tunnel behind a stack of barrels near the kitchens. James was welcomed by the Hufflepuffs, but didn’t feel quite at home there, despite the mellow wooden furniture and the round dormitory doors reminiscent of a hedgehog’s warren.
Another thing James discovered, with a mixture of pride and consternation, was that dating Millie meant that she (accompanied usually by a small gaggle of her girlfriends) attended his Quidditch practices. She and her entourage would be seated high in the Hufflepuff grandstands, usually chattering obliviously, except when Millie applauded James for some well-executed maneuver. He was invariably embarrassed on these occasions, and yet the sight of her guileless smile and unabashed cheering warmed his heart, even as the air turned cool and crisp all around.