"Harry," Mr. Recreant said, smiling a bit too enthusiastically. "I admit, Brenda and I hadn't expected to see you here today. Family occasion, is it?" He turned his grin on James, and then flashed it over Ralph and Zane as well.

        Harry smiled stiffly. "I'm equally surprised to see the two of you here. I didn't see any paperwork about a return trip to meet with the Alma Alerons. And I've been doing an awful lot of paperwork, as you know."

        Sacarhina took Harry's arm, and he allowed her to lead him out of the tower, following the last of the students. "Very unexpected, this is," she said in a confidential tone of voice. "Dreadful situation. Surely Minerva told you about it? Martin Prescott, a Muggle reporter, right here on the grounds. Still, the Ministry feels it is inevitable, really."

        "Does it?" Harry said, stopping near the door and facing Sacarhina. "So Loquatious Knapp knows about this?"

        "The Minister is aware of the general direction events have been leading," Recreant interjected. "We hadn't chosen to bother him with the particulars, per se."

        "So he doesn't, in fact, know you are here?" Harry said, dropping his thin smile.

        "Harry," Sacarhina said silkily, "the fact is that this sort of scenario is exactly the purview of the Department of Ambassadorial Relations. You, of course, do not require the signature of the Minister for every little maneuver of the Auror Department. Nor do we require his approval when dealing with the execution of our daily duties. Do you intend to stay for the day?"

        "I believe so, Brenda," Harry answered calmly. "I am curious to see what the Department of Ambassadorial Relations does to execute its daily duties in such a situation. Besides, surely you'd agree that an outside, objective witness might prove helpful in case of any… inquiries?"

"Suit yourself, Mr. Potter," Sacarhina said, her smile snapping shut like a jewelry box. "It will all be over by four o'clock this afternoon. Prescott's crew will arrive and they will get their tour. There is hardly any way to prevent it, after all, considering Mr. Prescott's very ingenious fail-safes. You may accompany us, but please do not attempt to interfere. It would not go well for you. But I am sure I do not need to tell you that, do I?"

        "Did you have a nice snooze down there by the front doors?" Zane said lightly as Sacarhina turned away. She stopped, and then very slowly turned back toward Zane.

        "Whatever could you mean, young man?" she asked. Harry was looking at Zane with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

        Zane went on, "You two were both down there to meet Merlin when he made his grand entrance last night, but he was apparently looking for bigger fish than you, wasn't he? He gave you both the old evil eye and froze you on the spot. Come on, now, that's gotta hurt."

        Sacarhina's smile eased back onto her face, as if it was the default expression at times when her brain was working hard on something else. Her eyes moved back to Harry. "I simply don't know what you've been filling these poor children's heads with, Mr. Potter, but it really doesn't do for Ministry officials to tell such stories. Merlin, of all things." She shook her head vaguely, then turned and walked through the archway with Mr. Recreant following nervously.

        "You sure have a way with people, Zane," Harry said, grinning and ruffling the boy's hair.

        "My dad says it's a gift," Zane agreed. "My mom says it's a curse. Who can tell?"

        "It looked like Miss Sacarhina was more confused than angry," Ralph mused as they walked through the archway, leaving the Sylvven Tower.

        "Could be," Harry replied. "It might be that everyone Merlin put to sleep forgot about him as well. She may have no recollection of his coming last night."

        "So she still expects him to show up when she takes Prescott and his crew on the grand tour?"

        "Perhaps. Although it won't trip her up for long when he doesn't show. Merlin's probably halfway across the Forbidden Forest by now, getting directions from the tree sprites, now that they're apparently awakened."

        James stopped in the middle of the corridor. A few paces later, Harry stopped as well and turned to look back at his son. James' face was wide-eyed and thoughtful. Suddenly, he blinked and looked at his dad.

        "I need to go to the Forbidden Forest," he said. "It's not too late. Dad, will you come with me? Zane, Ralph, you too?"

Harry didn't ask his son any questions. He studied James' face for several seconds, and then glanced down at Zane and Ralph. "What do you two think? You up for playing a little hooky?"

        James walked purposefully into the forest, followed at a short distance by Harry, Zane, and Ralph. He threaded through the smaller trees at the perimeter, heading into the deeper heart of the forest, where the trees were huge and ancient and the sun was all but blocked out by rafters of dense foliage. For several minutes, the foursome walked in silence, and then, finally, James stopped. He turned on the spot, looking up into the shushing leaves and gently creaking branches. There were no other sounds. Harry, Zane, and Ralph stood twenty feet away, watching quietly. James closed his eyes for a moment, thinking, and then opened them again and spoke.

        "I know a lot of you aren't awake," he began, looking up into the looming heights of the trees, "and I know that some of you who are awake aren't on our side. But the ones who are will hear me, and I hope you'll help. Merlin is out there somewhere. He may be far, far away by now, but even so, I think you know where he is. He talks to you, and I am betting you talk to him, too. I know tree sprites can talk, because we've already met one of you. I have a message for Merlin."

        James stopped and took another deep breath, not entirely sure what he meant to say. It had simply occurred to him that he should try. He had been used by Delacroix to help bring Merlin into the world, despite the best efforts of those who'd wished to prevent it. The knowledge that he'd allowed himself to be manipulated was horrible to him. All this time, he'd believed he was doing good, saving the world from evil, walking in the steps of his hero father. And yet his best intentions had been warped against him, against the world he'd hoped to protect. He'd tried to do it alone, like his dad had done, but he'd failed. He'd aided evil. And now evil expected him to give up. James didn't intend to give up, though. Maybe now he could try to help in a different way. It was probably a long shot, probably utterly hopeless, but he had to try. Maybe this was his way, after all.