Well, at least the building smelled better than Azkaban.

James sat in his holding cell, pending his arraignment in front of the Greek Minister of Magical Law Enforcement. He was not a common criminal; trespassing on what the Greeks consider a national treasure was high on the list of offenses one could commit. Apparently, the sentence should one be found guilty was nearly the same as once would receive for the use of the Cruciatus Curse in England. That made him wonder what punishment would await him in his homeland if they found out it was he who had broken into the tomb of Godric Gryffindor. He shuddered to think.

However, James found that there was nothing left to do but wait. After hours of solitary confinement with not even so much as a book to read, he finally heard the tumblers on the door’s locking mechanism clicking out of place. The door opened, and one of the last people he expected to see was standing before him; it was none other than the bartender from Addis Ababa. “You?”

Smirking, the bartender replied, “Not quite. You won twenty-three games as the Gryffindor Keeper at Hogwarts and fifty-seven professionally. You are currently employed at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies in the Emergency Trauma Ward. You have one son, age eleven, currently at school and probably in detention as we speak. Your favorite color is blue, you like it when your wife punches you in the jaw, and you secretly prefer butterbeer to Firewhiskey, but you’re terrified to let any of your male friends know.”

Complete confusion would not begin to touch James’s current state of mind. How could a bartender from Canada that was supposed to be over 2000 kilometers away possibly know all of that about him unless… “Scorpius, you son of a bitch! You followed me all the way from London, didn’t you?”

Grinning from ear to ear with very un-Malfoy dimples gracing his cheeks, Scorpius nodded through his bartender disguise. “Polyjuice potion is truly wonderful, you know.”

“No, it bloody is not! That was you I heard while I was excavating that old temple, wasn’t it?” James folded his arms in annoyance, glaring at his friend.

Scorpius would not be deterred. “Of course it was! Now, we need to get you out of here before these extremely testy Greek people find out I’m here. Here,” he tossed James a flask of Polyjuice Potion. “Take that so you’ll look like the bloke I left locked in the closet down the hall. I have his clothes right here.”

Taking both the flask and the uniform thrown to him, James looked warily at the sickly green potion. He chugged it in one gulp, and the following cringe rippled practically from head to toe. “Good Godric, that fellow tastes like sprouts!” He tried desperately not to choke on the noxious brew, but his own words halted even the bitter flavor. “Godric. Gryffindor!”

“Relax, Potter. I have your stuff, and the book is safe.” Scorpius patted his own pack as James’s dry heaves and bubbling skin began his transformation.

One of James’s first acts as the Greek MLE officer was to unbutton his pants. This other man was clearly more soft around the middle than James’s lean frame, not to mention much shorter. Giving Scorpius the evil eye until he had some privacy to change his clothing, he quickly swapped garments and glared at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. “This bloke seriously needs to lose a few stone and consider shaving more often. I look like a fat little hedgehog.”

That brought a laugh from Scorpius, whose face was slowly starting to return to its former visage. Noticing this, he frowned. “Time for a reload.” Gulping down his own phial of Polyjuice Potion, this one a pale orange, his face held the same disgusted expression as James. “I’ll never get used to this rubbish.”

Once their disguises were complete, James and Scorpius crept out of the prison wing of the MLE offices with the assistance of the security clearance charm Scorpius had managed to pry from the man whose image James had borrowed. No one thought to ask why one of their officers was walking alongside someone who was clearly not a member of the squad, but they both accredited that to the irritated look on James’s face.

They walked out of the front door, unchallenged, and headed to a different inn, this one significantly nicer, probably due to Scorpius’s heavy gold purse and patrician tendencies. Sitting at the desk provided in the room, James laid out his rubbings from underneath the Temple of Zeus, hoping that his companion was better versed in runes than he was. That hope was in vain.

“I’m sorry, mate, but I have no idea how to read runes. You’re on your own. The best I can do is take notes.” Scorpius shrugged, as if to apologize.

James nodded. “I’ll take that. I’ll find a sequence, translate it, then say it out loud so you can write it.”

Together, they slaved over the very intricate set of symbols, which was much more difficult than any of the ones James had dealt with thus far. He was proud of himself that he did not falter. Even Scorpius, who had passed on runes as a course at Hogwarts in favor of Arithmancy, was beginning to understand the structure of the dead language of their forefathers.

Once they were finished, their next destination lay ahead, and, thankfully, it was far away from Greece.

“Dragons! I bloody know it’s going to be dragons!” James scowled at the pub floor beneath him, which was located in the heart of the Romanian capital of Bucharest.

That version of ‘The Cauldron’ was much more…rustic. Straw covered the dirt floor, and the walls were wattle-and-daub, lending the whole place a certain barnyard smell. It was a fragrance to which two city fellows such as James and Scorpius were not accustomed, much more so for the latter, who seemed loath to touch anything, let alone take a meal there.

The runes had noted that there was a cave about one hundred kilometers to the north of the city, and since Bucharest was mainly Muggle, it was important to stick to non-magical means of transport�”meaning they would have to take the rail, then hike. James did not relish another long trek on foot, especially considering the ordeal in Ethiopia, but Scorpius, who had wisely chosen not to follow up Ras Dejen, was excited.

“Oh, come on, man! How are you not absolutely excited? We’re making history.” There was almost a childish glee in Scorpius’s voice as he clamored at their upcoming task.

James rolled his eyes. “Who cares? I just want to get this rubbish done with. I really don’t want to walk all over the damned hillside, but I’m doing it for my brother.” Something had been circulating in his mind for a while, and James had not thought to ask about it until that moment. “So, how did you end up with the disguise of a Canadian?”

Smirking, Scorpius explained, “It was an undercover operation to expose drug runners bringing their filth into England from the States. Canadian Magical Law Enforcement lent me an identity to use whilst I was there. For some reason, they thought I’d stand out too much.” He shrugged.

“Mate, you dress like a bat.” James could hardly stifle his rather inappropriate laughter. Scorpius’s tendency to favor more traditional wizarding garb made it exceedingly difficult for the man to blend into a Muggle environment. Rose tried to help him with it every so often, but it was no use.

Scorpius feigned affront. “At least I don’t wear glasses. Don’t Muggles make those things you poke into your eye so you don’t need them?”

The thought of another bout with contact lenses made James shudder, so he dropped the subject altogether. “Should we get going? The sun comes up in about a half-hour, and we will probably need all day to find this cave. I don’t want to be out past nightfall, because there are probably all manner of creatures in these forests that would love nothing more than to have us for dinner.”

“Agreed. Let’s get some breakfast from the market. No doubt they wash this place with muddy water.”

They left the inn, bringing with them every item in their collective possession, and after a quick breakfast, the pair embarked on their quest, starting with a train ride from the capital to the mountain city of Ploieşti. From there, they continued their journey with the assistance of a rented all-terrain vehicle.

Scorpius looked at the small craft dubiously. “Are you sure you can drive this thing, James? It looks terribly unsafe.”

“Just shut it and put on your helmet. I can drive a Muggle car, so how much different can they be?” James sounded much more confident than he truly felt.

Muttering, Scorpius mumbled, “Famous last words.”

As it happens, the trip on the ATV was much more successful than either of them had thought it would be. They covered ten kilometers in a little over an hour, much to Scorpius’s relief. “Merlin’s dirty knickers, that was unpleasant!”

James scoffed. “Too much for your delicate Slytherin sensibilities? Too much outdoor activity for you?”

“Sod off, Potter. I’m just saying what you’re thinking, and you know it. That contraption is vile and dangerous.” Scorpius’s expression greatly resembled a pout, which caused James to roar in laughter.

Shaking his head, James chortled, “You’re just too much, you know that?” He swung his pack over his shoulder. “Too much.”

The duo began to hike when the ATV trails became too narrow to use and the trees too thick. James relished the clean smell of the mountain air, and since he was much better prepared for the colder conditions this time, it was immensely more enjoyable than his African death march. Scorpius, also in excellent physical condition, was with him every step, albeit in a much darker mood, undoubtedly from the ATV ride.

“For the love of Merlin, why am I doing this? I can’t believe I used my vacation time for this!”

When James stopped in his tracks, Scorpius nearly slammed into his back. He spun on his heel and raised a brow. “Are you going to complain the whole way there? Weren’t you the one who was all excited to do this? You could go back to London, you know. Feel free to tell Lily I’m fine.”

Scorpius’s eyes held surprise. “How did you know?”

James huffed. “I know my sister. She was horrified that I was going into the Chamber of Secrets. How do you think she would react to a Greek jail or being eaten by dragons in the middle of nowhere?”

“She would tear me limb from limb if I left you alone, that’s how she would react. I’d sooner take on the dragon.”

Nodding in agreement, James continued hiking, using a Magic Detection Charm in order to find the right cave. It would point the tip of his wand where higher concentrations of magical activity were located. After nearly five hours of aimless wandering, they finally located a cave that was possibly the one for which they searched.

They entered the mouth of the cave, wands drawn and ready in case of creature attack. However, there was nothing. Not a single bat or mouse, not even vegetation, lived there. It was eerie in its lifelessness.

“This can’t be right. This cave is much too small for, well�”anything.” James was wary. A trickle of apprehension shivered up his spine, telling him that something was wrong with the scene. Again, James checked for magical activity, but it reaffirmed that it was, indeed, this empty cave in which they stood.

Scorpius lowered his wand and extracted the golden book. As soon as he touched it, Gryffindor appeared and looked at his surroundings with a smile. “Ah, it’s good to be back here.”

James scowled. “What for? There’s nothing here.”

Gryffindor shook his forefinger, as one would do to a child. “Oh, that’s not quite true, my boy. Just because you don’t see anything, it doesn’t mean that nothing is there.”

“But what are we supposed to do?” Frustration was abundant in Scorpius’s words. “If no one’s figured out the magic in these caves for this long, how are we supposed to do it?”

Before Gryffindor could answer, though, James chimed, “Maybe we’re not looking properly. Remember the translation and how it said ‘see and be seen’ and ‘there but not there’? We thought that was just a bunch of rubbish or that the translation was wrong, but I think I get it now.” Sifting through his own bag, James produced the heirloom Invisibility Cloak. He raised a brow to Scorpius. “Please don’t tell Al I nicked this from his house. I’m sure he’d murder me.”

Not interested in how James came upon the Cloak so much as what he planned to do with it, Scorpius asked, “So, what are you doing?”

“Testing a theory.” James whipped the Cloak over his head and struck gold. Where the back wall of the cave had been without the cloak now held a vast subterranean cavern, which was abutted by two large tunnels. “Whoa,” he breathed in awe.

Scorpius tried to stand where James was standing, but he was unsuccessful in seeing anything new. “What’s there?”

James removed the cloak and suggested, “Try using a Disillusionment Charm.” Scorpius complied, and a similar gasp of surprise followed. James turned to Gryffindor and asked, “Can we walk through it?”

“Oh, absolutely. Just remember to completely clear the stone before you remove your invisibility, or it will certainly be the death of you.” Gryffindor walked over to the false wall and passed through it as if it was not there. “I guess it’s good to be not quite there at times.”

They heard Gryffindor’s voice like he was still next to them, yet they did not see him. James donned the Cloak again and followed the spectral guide. Scorpius followed, though at a distance for fear of walking into James.

Gryffindor stopped and spread his arms wide. “Walk past here, and you can remove your invisibility.” After a few seconds, James and Scorpius reappeared. They looked about the cavern with great wonder, stunned by its magnificence. Majestic stalactites and stalagmites hung from the ceiling and jutted from the floor respectively. Neither had ever seen such a place.

To James’s concern, though, Gryffindor’s expression had lost its joviality upon entering the cavern further. It heightened his earlier unease. “Is there something we should know?”

“You could say that,” Gryffindor replied, still craning his neck to see as much as possible. “Great challenges lie ahead.”

Scorpius scowled. “This doesn’t look good, mate. What if there’s�”“ His words were interrupted by a mighty growl, louder and stronger than anything had the right to be.

James began panting in fear and apprehension. His palms were practically gushing sweat as he turned to his friend and said, “See, I told you there would be dragons!”

The walls of the cavern seemed to shake as the dragon’s ominous vocalizations drew nearer. Even Gryffindor seemed nervous; whether it was because he feared for the safety of James and Scorpius or for the safety of his Horcrux was unclear. What was clear, however, was that danger was about to stare them in the eye.

It was larger than life with its enormous, fanged mouth, lethal tail, and armored body. James knew immediately that this was one of the legendary Hungarian Horntails, known mostly by its vicious nature.

Scorpius stared at the Horntail, wide-eyed. Normally, he was no coward, but in the face of such a beast, even the bravest of men hid like frightened children. “I…I think we should run now.”

Glaring, James snapped, “No! We have to get past that bloody thing, so stop thinking about how many ways you can escape and start figuring out a way to get by it without being roasted.”

Just as James brandished his wand, the dragon emitted a stream of white-hot fire from its mouth, directly at the three of them. Driven by pure instinct, James cried, “Protego Maxima!” Just a split second before the flames enveloped them, a glittering shield appeared in a bubble, protecting the trio from the worst of its effects. Scorpius had cast a second Shield Charm within the protective bubble that James cast, which spared them from the holes punched into the first shield.

All of them breathed a sigh of relief. James turned to Gryffindor. “Perhaps you should either tell us how to make this thing go away or get back into your book.” Nodding profusely, the ghostly Gryffindor disappeared into the book inside James’s pack.

Scorpius regarded James. “Any ideas? How the hell does one get by a dragon?”

“I do have one idea.” Scoping out the dragon’s current position, James continued. “Next time it opens its mouth, send the most powerful Body-Bind you can muster right into its mouth. It’s one of the only areas of its body not plated with some sort of armor.”

“Do you think it will work?” Scorpius remembered hearing that it normally took about six dragon wranglers to take one down, and they were professionals. This plan was shaky at best.

James shrugged. “It’s the best I’ve got. Unless you want to take your chances at running between its legs while invisible, the only alternative is to try to at least stun it a bit.”

His mind finally clicking, Scorpius added, “Perhaps we should try to Apparate behind it if we do succeed in stunning it.” He frowned. “Problem is, which tunnel do we take?”

“No clue. Should we split up or brave the dragon twice?” The dragon sent another hot burst their way, and in their distracted state, they were not able to respond as quickly or with the same amount of power in their shielding. Small licks of flame penetrated the inner shield, nearly setting Scorpius’s cloak on fire. “Ah, bollocks! We need to watch it better.”

This instance prompted a decision for James. “We can’t split up, because if this thing blasts one of us alone, we wouldn’t stand a chance. How about sticking together and taking the left tunnel first?”

“Fine. Let’s just get on with it before there isn’t enough of us to send home to our wives in a takeaway box.” With that, they lay in wait, both to attempt putting a temporary Body-Bind on the dragon and to Apparate behind it if they succeeded.

Finally, the golden opportunity presented when the Horntail drew in a great breath in preparation for another flaming jet. Both James and Scorpius bellowed, “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” Their aim was true, and both curses hit the back of the monstrous mouth, rendering the creature momentarily motionless. Not wasting a second, the duo Apparated with a loud crack behind the dragon, and they ran as fast as their legs could carry them into the darkness of the first tunnel.

Twin beams of light expelled the blackness as they both gasped, “Lumos.” When the dragon was blessedly out of sight, they slowed their pace to a brisk walk, both of them winded from their sprint.

Scorpius stopped and leaned against the wall of the tunnel, still breathing hard. The heavy respiration soon gave way to a slow, hysterical laugh. Unable to stop himself, he tilted his head back and his amusement came forth in gales. James joined him, just glad to be alive and unscathed.

Once the jocularity subsided, James raised a brow. “Shall we?”

Gesturing into the seemingly endless dark that lay ahead of them, Scorpius made a mock grandiose gesture. “After you.”

“Coward,” James chortled as they continued along the path. After a while, he asked, “Do you think we should let Godric back out?”

“It seems pretty safe.” Once James produced the golden book and released Gryffindor, Scorpius then rounded on the specter. “What was the idea with the bloody dragon? Was the false wall not enough for you?”

Gryffindor replied, “I didn’t put it there. I’m guessing that, since the Visibility Charm only works on humans and part humans, it probably wandered in there all on its own.”

Glaring, Scorpius growled, “That’s likely.” Reigning in his annoyance, he continued, “Any chance you’ll just tell us where the runes are in here?”

“Ah, there are no runes here. You’ll have to follow this tunnel up to city of Braşov.”

James sputtered. “But…but that’s all the way in Transylvania! You expect us to walk over a hundred kilometers?”

Shaking his head, Gryffindor answered quickly, “Of course not! That would be madness. Once you get the proper key, you can follow this tunnel out to the surface. The Muggle rail, if I am not mistaken, runs just over a kilometer to the east of here. You should take that.”

“Wait a minute…how do you know about trains?” James could not possibly see how a ghost could know where rail lines in Romania would be located.

Smiling sheepishly, Gryffindor supplied, “I, well, used that little gadget in your bag while we were in Bucharest. The one named after the fruit.”

“You took my phone? How in the name of Merlin did you know how to use it? I barely know how�”“

Scorpius crossed his arms angrily as he interrupted. “So you’re saying that there is an alternate entrance to this tunnel, and we just about got toasted by a damned dragon for nothing!”

“Well, I told you I didn’t know it was there!” Gryffindor and Scorpius were staring down one another. “Just like Slytherin, you are. Ready to jump to conclusions. And here I thought the Hat had made a mistake.”

James had enough. “Will you two quit arguing! Merlin’s knickers, you’re like an old married couple.” He angrily brushed past the bickering pair, who had the good grace to be abashed.

Mumbling, Scorpius said, “Sorry, mate.” Gryffindor issued a similar apology, and the next segment of the journey was passed in silence.

After what had to be an hour of trekking, James asked, “So, where is this key?”

“We should be coming near it here pretty soon. Start looking for something shiny.”

Scowling, Scorpius quipped, “Something shiny? Is that the best you can do?”

Gryffindor swished the hem of his robes. “That’s what it is. Shiny. There is no other word.”

“Enough! How in the name of Merlin are we supposed to find anything if you two don’t shut it and look!” James was rapidly losing his temper with the sniping between his friend and his guide. Apparently, neither of them were driven by the urgency of, oh say, Albus dying. This whole fiasco was enough with which to deal; more problems were wholly unnecessary. I swear I’ll curse the next one of them that starts up again, he vowed to himself.

A glint caught Scorpius’s eye, and he immediately pointed it out to his companions. Gryffindor’s grin confirmed that they had, indeed, found the elusive key. When James examined it, though, it did not look like any key he had ever seen; it more closely resembled a music box without a turnkey. The box was crusted with rubies, much like the pyramid’s hidden gateway had been in Egypt.

Holding it up to the wandlight, James asked, “So, how does this thing work?”

Gryffindor rolled his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s a musical key. Play it at the entrance we’re looking for in Braşov, and it will open the doorway.” He looked at James as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

James squinted at the golden key box. “How do you turn this thing on?”

This time, it was Scorpius’s turn to scoff at the seemingly infantile problem. “Here,” he said, snatching it. He smartly tapped his wand on the very center of the top, and a sprightly melody began playing. Scorpius was smirking in triumph.

“What song is that?” James inquired.

Smiling, Gryffindor replied, “Oh, that’s the Hogwarts School Song.”

Scorpius interjected, “But no one knows the tune to that! The Headmasters over the years just let the students sing it to whatever melody they wish.”

“Well, you know it now. Can we get moving, gentlemen? I don’t know how far behind us that dragon is, and I’m not sure I want to find out.” He gestured toward an expanse of wall and added, “I’m sure you remember the magic words, Mister Potter.”

With a swish and flick of his wand, James chanted, “Homenum Passus.” The rock wall began to peel back and form an archway to the outside. Desperate for clean air, James and Scorpius hurriedly clambered out of the dank tunnel and filled their lungs greedily.

After Gryffindor returned to his book, James and Scorpius hiked the distance to the rail, which was a little over a kilometer, and waited over an hour for a train to arrive. According to Scorpius’s pocket watch, they had little over two hours of daylight, most of which would be occupied with the journey on the train.

Once they finally arrived in Braşov, James and Scorpius found a base of operations outside of town after mailing compensation for the abandoned ATV. Along with Gryffindor, they walked to an ancient stand of trees, unfettered by loggers and settlements.

After every scrap of their daylight had been used, the trio identified the object of their search, which was an ancient stone hut that had fallen into a pile of rubble, much like the temple had appeared on Ras Dejen.

James, curious about the parallel, asked, “Is this another illusion, or is this what it actually looks like?”

Gryffindor scanned it carefully. “No, this is what it is, but that’s not important. This is just a marker; what you need is underneath.”

With the assistance of several Levitating Charms by wandlight, Scorpius and James managed to remove the piles of ancient sandstone from the foundation. Sure enough, there was a floor made of rough-hewn timbers, still intact and magically preserved. A trap door was barely discernable underneath the centuries of dust.

Just as James was about to open the hatch, he halted. “Wait a minute. There aren’t, you know…vampires in here, or anything?”

Scoffing, Gryffindor replied, “That’s ridiculous. They don’t live in old ruined buildings! Shows just how little wizards are willing to learn about other species.”

When the hatch was open, the resulting gush of foul air prompted James and Scorpius to cast Bubble-Head Charms before they lowered themselves into the dark hole. With simultaneous Lighting Charms, the pale glow illuminated what looked like a mirror, but with some key differences. The glass, if one could call it that, rippled like water in a pond, but it was still reflective. The frame was much more like a doorway, but there was no handle. Both James and Scorpius looked at Gryffindor in askance.

The ghostly guide looked meaningfully at James’s bag, where the music box lay. Understanding the cue, the golden box was withdrawn and held in the palm of James’s hand. “So, now what do we do with it? Just play it next to this wavy mirror thing?”

At the affirmative nod, Scorpius tapped the box with his wand, and the melody filled the atmosphere. Immediately, the rippling of the mirror changed to resonate in time with the music. When the song stopped, the sparkling waves disappeared altogether and gave way to the vision of a completely different land.

James asked, “So, is this it, or do I need to jump through some more of your insidious little hoops?”

Grinning, Gryffindor supplied, “You’ll see.”

The three travelers crossed the threshold of the mirror portal into yet more of the unknown.

“Merlin’s pants, it’s cold! Where are we?” James could barely feel his extremities from the stinging cold. There was snow as far as the eye could see, and mountains covered in the frosty powder thrusted up to the sky all across the horizon. Had he been better prepared for the weather, it would have been quite beautiful.

Gryffindor rubbed his hands together in glee. “Ah, Norway.”

Scorpius, whose hands were tucked into his underarms in a feeble attempt to ward off the frigid climate, glared. “You, old man, have a most unfortunate taste for haunts in the history of mankind. Why would you want to set foot in his heat-forsaken wasteland?”

“How can you say that? Look at the mountains! Look at the sky! Look everywhere! This is nature in its most raw and rugged beauty.” Grinning slyly, Gryffindor added, “Besides, would you look for anything here?”

He has a point, James thought mentally as he observed Scorpius barely check his annoyance. However, time was running out, and they only had two more days with which to complete the journey before Albus could no longer be helped. “Where are we going? We need to move.”

Gesturing to the distant sierra, Gryffindor said, “To the mountains, of course.”

“You have got to be kidding me! If I have to climb one more bloody mountain, I may throttle someone.” James could feel himself rapidly losing patience. “Could you at least tell me what I’m looking for? A cave, a temple, a building, a person?”

Shaking his head, Gryffindor responded, “We are looking for none of those things.” Sensing James was reaching the end of his rope, he quickly added, “We’re looking for a tree.”

Apparently, this was the last straw for Scorpius. “A tree. A tree! You have us looking for one bloody tree on a bloody mountain covered in bloody trees! Are you completely insane?” This rant was punctuated by Scorpius kicking a snowdrift, only to slip and fall on his rear. The laughter that ensued only saw his anger and indignation intensify. “That’s it! That is it! I can’t take this anymore.” Pointing his wand at the golden book, which had been in his possession last, he hissed, “You either lead us right to the very tree or I’m going to toast your Horcrux.” When Gryffindor attempted to protest, Scorpius snapped, “I mean it, old man.”

Gryffindor sighed. “I see patience is not a virtue you share with your friend here. However, as my demise would be most upsetting, I will do this thing you ask, but in turn, you are not allowed to set foot in our final destination.”

James shook his head. “I can’t let him agree to that. I’d still be in jail in Athens if he had not come to let me out, and you’d be the Greek Ministry’s newest plaything.”

Scorpius hissed. “Done. Now, let’s move. I grow tired of your games, Gryffindor.”

The trio trudged in the knee-deep snow in stony silence, and James did not want to provoke either of them. Scorpius was too angry to say anything other than insults at Gryffindor, and the ancient shade looked disappointed that his challenges were not received as well as he had hoped.

After hiking kilometers across the Norwegian tundra, the group finally reached the mountains, and more importantly, the forests that grew upon it. Through the thick wood, Gryffindor led them past every sapling, every tree, every rotting stump. James started thinking that the specter did not even know where he was going, but after passing through the younger growths, the trees through which they navigated became older and older.

Finally, after hours, Gryffindor stopped at one particularly large tree and perused it for quite some time. Around the trunk he paced and paced, seemingly looking for one particular detail, but he did not seem to find the object of his search. Instead of continuing his fruitless scrutiny, the ghost instead stuck his incorporeal head into the tree for a closer look.

When he retracted himself from the trunk, Gryffindor was smiling. “This is it.” Indicating James, he continued. “Young man, if you would place your wand here,” indicating a particular gnarled portion of bard, “and say the spell you know so well.”

James did as he was instructed, and the tree opened like a door, behind which lay a staircase leading down into the depths of the earth. He could not help but be in awe that such an unassuming tree had hidden some of the secrets of Godric Gryffindor for over a millenium.

Turning to Scorpius, Gryffindor’s smile evaporated. “You must leave us now. Your impatience and hostility has proven you unworthy of fulfilling this task.”

Scorpius, his jaw steeled resolutely, arms crossed defiantly, stated matter-of-factly, “No.”

In an effort to appeal to his friend’s more reasonable nature, James pled, “Mate, please just go. I don’t want this to get ugly, and I’m sure whatever is waiting for the ‘unworthy’ is horrible and deadly. Please, just go.”

When Scorpius did not relent, Gryffindor waved a hand, which banished the angry blond man from the premises. James, however, was aghast. “What did you do to him?”

“I sent him back to Addis Ababa. He has no idea where we are in Norway, plus he can easily find his way home from there.”

James narrowed his eyes. “You knew this whole time he would never make it, didn’t you?” The petty bickering between Gryffindor and Scorpius had made him uncomfortable from the beginning, but for the specter to allow his friend to travel with them, not revealing him as someone who was never intended to make it to the final destination, was low and underhanded.

Gryffindor shrugged. “You needed the help, and I was willing to give him the chance to redeem himself, but in the end, he proved to be Salazar’s own.” Seeing that James was still upset, he added, “I did really want to let him come with us, but the wards would have killed him on the spot. Does that not prove that I meant your friend no harm?”

“I guess. Can we just go? It’s already noon and I’m already on borrowed time as it is.” Together, James and Gryffindor descended the wooden stairs. Instead of getting darker, the ambient light grew brighter as they walked further into the underground lair.

At the bottom was a spectacular, glowing lake of magma. It was a real, honest-to-goodness volcano lair. In addition to the awesome surroundings, the temperature was so comfortable that James, whose jaw was slack in amazement, contemplated removing his cloak.

However, Gryffindor seemed unmoved by the unusual environment as he walked about the place and checked various nooks and crannies that seemed to be empty.

James was confused, wondering what he was supposed to do. “Er, I hate to rush whatever it is that you’re doing, but is there something I should be doing, or am I supposed to wait for you to finish looking for, um, whatever it is you’re looking for?” The question came out much more awkwardly than he had intended, and his companion found it amusing.

“Potter, you are not going to get yourself tossed from the hunt for asking a question. Yes, you can proceed now, if you like.” Gryffindor reached into a corner and produced a goblet that James had not noticed before.

Gryffindor gestured for James to come to him, who complied, and handed the younger man the cup. He then led James to another slot in the wall, where a large stone basin with liquid rested. James now knew that he was not imagining things, because he was absolutely sure that nothing had been there just a minute before. He looked at Gryffindor in askance.

“Now, in order to proceed to the final destination, you must drink from this basin with that goblet.” The ghost pointed his fingers for emphasis. “If you are truly worthy to find my treasure, you will be allowed to pass. If not, well…let’s just say that it will not end well for you.”

Looking rather uncomfortably at the goblet and the basin, James dared ask the question in his mind. “How will I know that I’m worthy? What will happen if I’m not? Where am I supposed to go from here?” The questions flowed out of him rapidly before he could stop himself.

Chuckling, Gryffindor replied, “I believe you are worthy, but if you are not, you will not live through the task.” Gesturing toward the pool of lava, he added, “After you drink from the cup, you will walk into the Lake of Fire.” He ignored James’s gasp of dismay and continued. “You will sink, which will transport you to the final destination. Do you understand?”

James nodded woodenly. “I see what you mean about the price of failure.” Frowning at the magma, he asked, “Are you sure I’m supposed to do this? This is rather bizarre.”

“Of course, my boy.” Gryffindor elbowed James in the ribs and chortled, but the amusement was not shared. “I made it that way so that only those who seek my treasures for just reasons and are pure of heart can pass. Young Malfoy did not have the, er, proper disposition to make it through. That is why I sent him away. “

Though he did not know how, James began to understand more and more about the insane journey on which he had embarked. Though it had not seemed like it at times, Gryffindor really had been helping him every step of the way by forcing him to use his mind instead of his heart. He may not have understood the reasoning at that point for visiting so many places, but he knew he would before he went back to London.

Tentatively, James took the wooden goblet and scooped a very generous portion of the fluid, which was supposed to keep him from burning to a crisp in the molten lava, and gulped it down in one swallow. A curious warmth tingled in every millimeter of his body, even down to the very tips of his toes. Instantly, he knew that he would not be harmed by the magma’s intense heat. He stowed the golden book, into which Gryffindor had already retreated, and prepared himself.

James strode confidently to the Lake of Fire, and, with remarkable self-assurance, walked into its depths.

Looking around at his surroundings, James noted the balmy breeze, the stretches of blue water, and the warmth of the sand radiating into his clothing. He summoned his guide from the book for answers. “Where are we now?” he asked.

Gryffindor smiled. “This is the Isle of Nocho, off the coast of France. It is home to the oldest known civilized wizarding settlement known to man. Helga learned magic here from some of the greatest wizards of our age, rivaling even the masters of the temple in Ethiopia.

“Her uncle owned much of this island, and when she inherited it upon his death, she generously split the land parcels, giving them to whomever she felt was a loyal and true friend, and I was lucky enough to be a recipient.”

James was still slightly baffled. “So, if you had a magical island that no one knew where it was, then why didn’t you just bring me here straight from Egypt?” It just did not make sense to him that Gryffindor could have just taken him there and spared nearly a week of hardship.

“Alas, that’s the tricky part,” Gryffindor responded. “This part of the island is more than Unplottable, I’m afraid. I cast a series of spells after I hid my treasure, assuring that only the most worthy were able to find it, but also, one has to traverse each destination, starting with my crypt. That is why no one has ever found my treasure; no one ever thought to look underneath my body. Each of them followed the false trails I set in my mausoleum, but you were the only one that would even consider violating a dead man’s sarcophagus, and the only one with a good reason.”

Finally, the pieces were starting to click together in James’s mind. “So, you mean that, if anyone did happen to find these places by accident, that person would have never found this place, because they didn’t start from the beginning?” When Gryffindor nodded, James inquired, “So, is that why you kept telling me that the journey is more important than the destination? Because I never would have found it otherwise?”

“Right you are, my boy! Each one of the places you have visited was significant to me. I chose Egypt to hide my Horcrux, because it would be guarded by intense magic and even by the locals’ fear of curses. It was on the mountain in Ethiopia that I learned nearly everything I know of magic, not to mention where Salazar became a friend to me. It was also where I learned of the strength and power of the mighty lion, which I chose as the symbol of my House.

“Greece was the home of some of the most prolific wizards of the ancient world. They were so powerful, the local Muggles built temples to honor and worship them; it was only fitting to include it in the quest. It was in Romania that I honed my wandless magic skills, and Transylvania was where I learned of acceptance and tolerance of other magical beings that are different from us.

“As for Norway�”“ Gryffindor chuckled. “Would it be remiss if I said I just really wanted a hideout in a volcano?”

James could not believe what he had just heard. Not only was he the first to ever complete the journey to Gryffindor’s treasure, he had visited some of the roots of the magical world’s very foundations. To say it was an accomplishment was an understatement, but despite all that, a single thought resonated in his brain. “So, when can we go find that Griffin?”

Gryffindor wrapped his arm around James’s shoulders. “Never fear, my boy. Your brother is in good hands, for he is in yours.” Without another word, Gryffindor led James into a cave, barely visible from the shore of the island.

“So no one can enter this cave unless they’ve been deemed ‘worthy’?” James asked once inside.

“Correct. It is not visible or tangible to anyone else but you and me. I have been waiting for a millenium for someone to prove to be truly worthy. I had thought Dumbledore was, but power was his weakness, much of which is found below.” Deeper and deeper into the surprisingly dry tunnel they marched, passing torches that lit in a cascade as they approached the landing. At the bottom of this underground repository stood a creature�”half eagle, half lion, but completely magnificent. James knew immediately that it was the Griffin.

The Griffin stood taller when it realized that it was no longer alone. It ignored Gryffindor completely, presumably because it already knew him; instead, it turned its attention to James. It came as a surprise to James when it spoke. “Who dares tread in this sacred place?”

James steeled his quaking nerves and willed himself to reply with dignity and poise, not like a child afraid of the dark. “I, James Sirius Potter, humbly request that you accompany me back to London on a mission of mercy.”

“You do not seek the treasure?” The Griffin’s voice held a certain measure of incredulity.

Shaking his head, James replied bravely, “No, I do not. I only seek your assistance in saving the life of my brother.”

Subsequently, the Griffin asked, “What service could I possibly perform?”

More calmly than he believed himself capable, James recounted the story of Albus’s illness and the extinction of the rest of the Griffin population. The magical creature seemed to consider this information for a long while�”too long for James’s comfort. Once it finally answered, it was definitely not what James had hoped to hear. “And why should I do this for you and abandon my post of over a thousand years?”

Before James could speak for himself, Gryffindor interjected. “You will because I ask you to. In all these centuries, not one man has proven up to the task of finding this place. Not one man has been worthy enough, nor selfless enough, to be permitted access to my treasure, at least until this man. I bid you to let him pass and to go to London. This gold means nothing to either of us, so let it be.”

“Master, are you certain that this is what you want? Every item in this cavern will remain unprotected until the day I can return to my post.”

Gryffindor crossed his arms. “I have known that this is what I wanted from the moment I first spoke to this young man. His heart is just, his soul is true, and his intentions are pure. He may have anything in here he desires or requires, and that includes you, my friend.”

The Griffin seemed to take this command in stride. “Very well. James Sirius Potter, I am at your disposal.” At this, it bent its head and knelt at James’s feet.

James’s heart felt as it is would burst with the speed of its pulsation. The Griffin was now his, and Albus was going to live. Raw emotion raced through him as he fought to gather his composure. After all, there was still the journey back home to consider. He turned to Gryffindor. “So, do you have any ideas about how to get him back to London?”

“I’d try a Portkey to France and then a boat across the Channel. The French are much more lenient about unlicensed Portkeys than the English, I’m afraid. Dumbledore did seem to run into that particular snag a lot.”

Now more confident, James strode into the yawning cavern that held Gryffindor’s treasure. To his surprise, there was little gold to be found; instead, massive quantities of ancient books and scrolls were stacked neatly along the walls and on shelves. He looked at his spectral companion in question.

“There are many treasures, James. Some are made of gold, some are made of precious stones, and some are even biological, like being a member of a family. This, however, is the treasure of knowledge. On these pages, I have recorded almost every single bit of magic I had ever learned, and this trove of knowledge is now yours.”

Awe apparent in his voice, James stuttered, “I, um, are you sure? Am I truly worthy of all of this?”

Gryffindor smiled. “The fact that you believe yourself unworthy proves that you are. Rowena always felt that natural acumen was necessary for knowledge, Helga thought knowledge was for all, and Salazar held that only those of pure ancestry were worthy of it. I, on the other hand, know in my heart that it is for those who are brave enough to seek it. You, James Potter, are brave enough to claim the contents of this room.”

“I…I don’t know what to say.” The statement was inherently true. While James knew he had done things in the past that one could classify as ‘brave,’ he was not certain that he was truly the only man amongst the millions of wizards that had lived and died before his time that was well and truly ‘worthy’.

Grinning, Gryffindor replied, “How about ‘thank you’ and ‘let’s go’?”

Though it was nearly impossible to tear himself away from the vast expanse of documents, which contained more than one person could possibly remember, James relented. The duo led the Griffin to the surface and prepared a Portkey to take them to the all-wizard village of La Joyeux in France.

“Why there?” Gryffindor asked.

James smirked. “Because my wife’s family owns a summer home there, so they know me. More importantly, though, it’s probably the only place in France I know of that I could pop in with a Griffin and not be shot on sight.”

Perplexed, his companion inquired, “Shot?”

“Muggle projectile weapon; very primitive.” After Gryffindor returned to the golden book, which was stowed in the pack, James looped the shirt he used as a Portkey onto the Griffin’s beak and gripped the sleeves for himself. The familiar sensation of a hook wrenching his navel started the world swirling around him. As it finally subsided, he found his feet just in time to keep from tumbling to the ground. The Griffin, however, soared gracefully to its feet by virtue of its eagle’s wings.

Addressing the Griffin, James commanded, “Stay here. I’ll arrange transport in the village.” The creature did as it was told as James ran into La Joyeux and booked passage on a barge heading to London within hours. As he arrived in Paris, hauling the Griffin in a very large but discreet crate and assisted by two volunteers from the village, James supervised the loading and eventual unloading of the precious cargo before boarding the ship himself, left alone in his passenger’s cabin with his only thoughts for company.

Hours turned into days for James, as well as the rest of the family. Their parents were mad with worry, and Anne spent more time pacing than any one person should. As for himself, James spent a majority of those agonizing hours in the library of the house as he read Albus’s favorite book, The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore. He read it to feel closer to Albus in the moments not spent by his side, telling him stories about nothing in particular, just to keep him engaged.

Finally, one of the Healers, none other than Susan Bones, emerged from Albus’s room, beaming. James had sat vigil outside the room on the most uncomfortable chaise known to mankind, but the fog that had permeated his brain in the relentless boredom lifted immediately at her expression.

“Is it good news?” He almost dreaded the response, but James knew that Susan would not have been smiling if the news was not positive.

Susan’s smile broadened. “The alchemization is almost completely reversed. Once the poisoning is cleared up, Albus is going to be fine.”

The news rocked James to his very core. His little brother was not going to die! There were no words for the relief, the pure joy, he felt. He jubilantly flung his arms around the older woman. When he realized that he was behaving like he was insane, James pulled back, but the grin on his face would not abandon its post. Instead, James ran through the house and actively sought any member of the family with whom he could share the incredible news.

After days and days of traveling the world in search of a creature deemed extinct, James had not only found one of the largest repositories of history in the wizarding world since Merlin’s tomb was discovered, he had brought his brother back from the brink of death.

That night, as James lay next to his sleeping wife, the smile plastered to his face still had not left, nor would it in the subsequent days. Life was too good, too short, not to forge ahead, happy to just be alive.