"It was you, wasn't it," James whispered to the picture. It wasn't really a question.
The boy in the picture smiled his smile, nodding slightly, as if in agreement.
James hadn't expected an answer, but as he started to straighten up, something changed on the plaque below the Triwizard Cup. The engraved words sank into the silver plaque, then, after a moment, new words surfaced. They spelled out slowly, silently.
James Potter
Harry's son
A shiver thrilled down James' back. He nodded. "Yes," he whispered.
The words sank back into nothing. Several seconds went by, and then more words drifted up.
How long
Has it been
James didn't understand the question at first. He shook his head slightly. "I… I'm sorry. How long has it been since what?"
The letters receded and spelled again, slowly, as if they took great effort.
Since I died
James swallowed. "I don't know, exactly. Seventeen or eighteen years, I think."
The letters faded out very slowly. No more formed for almost a minute. Then:
Time is so strange here
It feels longer
Shorter
James didn't know what to say. A sense of great loneliness and sadness had crept into the corridor, filling the space, and James himself, like a cool cloud.
"My--" James' voice caught. He cleared his throat, swallowed, and tried again. "My dad and mum, Ginny, used to be Weasley… they talk about you. Sometimes. They… they remember you. They liked you."
The letters faded, surfaced.
Ginny and Harry
I always knew
There was something there
Cedric's ghost seemed to be seeping away, leaking out of the air of the corridor. The letters faded slowly. James had wanted to ask more questions, had meant to ask about the Muggle intruder, how he was getting in, but now it seemed unimportant. He just wanted to say something to lessen the pall of sadness he'd sensed in Cedric's presence, but he couldn't think of anything. Then the letters came once more, spelling out very faintly and slowly.
Are they happy
James read the question, considered it. He nodded. "Yeah, Cedric. They are. We are."
The letters evaporated as soon as James spoke, and there was something like a sigh all around him, long and somehow exhausted. When it was over, James glanced around the corridor. He could tell he was alone again. When he looked back at the plaque below the Triwizard Cup, it had reverted to its normal state, covered in elaborate, engraved words. James shivered, hugged himself, then turned and began to walk back toward the main hall. The ghost had finally spoken, and it was Cedric Diggory.
We are happy, James thought. As he climbed the steps to the common room, he realized it was true. He felt a little silly about the way he'd mooned around all weekend, stirring his jealousy and sense of failure like a stew. At this moment, it all seemed unimportant. He was just glad to be here, at Hogwarts, with new friends, challenges, endless adventures before him. He ran along the hallway to the portrait hole, wanting nothing more at that moment than to spend the last couple of hours of his first weekend at Hogwarts having some fun, laughing, forgetting the silliness of the whole Quidditch disaster. He realized, reluctantly, that on some level, it was even a little funny.
As he entered the common room, he stopped and looked around. Ralph and Zane were there, sitting with the rest of the Gremlins around the table by the window. They all looked up.
"There's our little alien," Zane said happily. "We're trying to work your broom-handling skills into the routine. What do you think of a Roswell crash kinda gig? Ralph's got his wand all ready to catch you."
Ralph wiggled his wand and smiled sheepishly. James rolled his eyes and went to join them.
James awoke late Monday morning. He ran into the Great Hall hoping to grab a piece of toast before Transfiguration class and met Ralph and Zane, who were just coming out.
"No time, mate," Ralph said, hooking James' arm and turning him around. "Can't be late to first class. McGonagall teaches it and I've heard bad, bad things about what she does to tardy students."
James sighed and trotted along with them through the noisy, busy corridors. "I hope she doesn't do terrible things to students whose stomachs growl during class as well."
Zane handed something to James as they walked. "Check that out when you get a chance. I already showed it to Ralphie and it blew his mind, didn't it? I've marked the spot for you." It was a thick, bedraggled book. The cover was clothbound in frayed fabric that had once probably been red. The pages were yellowed, threatening to fall out of the binding in chunks.
"What is it?" James said, unable to read the embossed title, which was ghostly faint with age. "Between Jackson and Flitwick, I've got enough reading to last me until next term."
"You'll be interested in this, believe me. It's the Book of Parallel Histories, Volume Seven," Zane said. "I got it from the Ravenclaw library. Just read the section I marked."
"Ravenclaw has a private library?" Ralph asked, struggling to wrestle his Transfiguration textbook out of his overstuffed backpack.
"Do you Slytherins have dragons' heads on your walls?" Zane shrugged. "Sure. To each his own."
As they filed toward the Transfiguration classroom, they passed through a cluster of students standing beside the door. Several of them wore the blue 'Question the Victors' badges. More and more students seemed to be wearing them as the days went by. Signs on some of the bulletin boards had identified the badges as the mark of a club called the 'Progressive Element'. James was dismayed to see that not all of the students wearing them were Slytherins.
"Your dad's coming today, eh, Potter?" an older boy called out, smiling crookedly. "Going to have a little meeting with his cronies from the States?"
James stopped and looked at the speaker. "He's coming today, yeah," he said, his cheeks going red. "But I don't know what you mean about his 'cronies'. He hasn't even met the Americans before. Maybe you should read a little before you open your mouth."
"Oh, we've been reading, believe me," the boy replied, his smile disappearing. "More than you and your father would like us to be, I'm sure. Your kind can't hide the truth forever."