"Why not? What happens?" Ralph asked.

        "Well, for one thing, like I said on the train, Hogwarts is unplottable. It can't be mapped. Also, no Muggle has ever heard of it. And, even if some Muggle did just happen to wander into the grounds, the Disillusionment Charms would guide them around so they didn't even know they were passing us. If they tried to push through the Disillusionment Charms, they'd just get all disoriented and doubt themselves. Their compasses would go all wacky and they'd end up turning around even without knowing it. You can't just force your way through that kind of Disillusionment Charm. The whole point of it is to deflect anybody who isn't supposed to get in, and make them believe the deflection was their idea."

        Zane frowned. "So how do any of us get in, then?"

        "Well, we're all basically Secret-Keepers, aren't we?" James said, and then had to explain the idea of being a Secret-Keeper, about how only a Secret-Keeper could find the secret place or lead others there. "Of course, it all gets a lot less secure with this many of us. That's why there are laws against even Muggle parents of students telling anyone."

        "Yeah, my parents had to sign some big non-disclosure agreement before I came," Zane said, as if the very idea was the greatest thing he'd ever heard. "It said that any 'privileged Muggles' like my parents weren't allowed to talk to any other Muggles about Hogwarts or the magical community. If they did, the contract would kick in and their tongues would curl up until somebody from the Ministry came to release the spell. Excellent."

"Yeah," James said, "Ted told me about a Muggle-born girl he dated his third year. Her parents accidentally mentioned Hogwarts at a dinner party and their hosts called the Muggle paramedics because they thought both of them were having some sort of weird seizure at exactly the same time. The Ministry had to do memory modifications on everybody. It was a mess, but it was pretty funny."

        "Cool," Ralph said meaningfully. "Hey, I should've used one of those Disillusionment Charms on my duffle bag. Would've saved me some trouble."

        Zane turned to him. "So what's the deal, Ralphie? What kind of trouble are you causing now?"

        "It wasn't me!" Ralph protested, and then lowered his voice, glancing toward the front desk. Slughorn was reclined behind it, peering at a gigantic book through a pair of tiny spectacles and drinking something frothy in a stoneware mug. Ralph grimaced and sighed. "Slughorn found my GameDeck this morning. He said I left it in the common room. He was all diplomatic about it, but he told me I wanted to be very careful about things like that. Said I should probably try to leave my 'Muggle toys' at home."

James furrowed his brow. "I thought you said it'd gone missing a few days ago?"

        Ralph became animated. "It did! That's what I mean! I didn't leave it in the common room! I'm about to chuck the stupid thing in the toilet! Somebody took it out of my bag and left it out there for Slughorn to find. I hate those guys!" Ralph's voice had descended to a harsh whisper. He glanced around quickly, as if he expected his housemates to pop out from behind the nearest bookcase.

        Zane looked thoughtful. "You don't know who took it?"

        "No," Ralph said sarcastically. "I'm pretty sure that was the point."

        "You have it with you?"

        "Yeah," Ralph said, deflating a bit. "I'm not letting it out of my sight until I can get rid of it. It doesn't work all that well around here anyway. Too much magic in the air or something." He dug the game console out of his backpack and handed it under the table to Zane.

        James watched as Zane worked the buttons swiftly and the screen came to life. "If anybody sees you with that thing," Ralph muttered, "it's yours. Happy Christmas."

        Zane pressed buttons fluidly, making the screen flash and cycle. "I'm just checking to see if the last person who played it made a profile."

        "What's a profile?" James asked, leaning to look at the screen.

        Zane waved him away without looking up. "Don't look. Slughorn will see. Ralph, tell Mr. Wizard here what a game profile is."

"It's just a way to keep track of your game," Ralph whispered. "Before you play, you create a profile, with a name and stuff, usually just something made up. Then anything you do in the game is recorded under that profile. When you come back later and log in to that profile, you can pick up wherever you left off." "You ' the Ralphinator'?" Zane asked, still working the GameDeck.

        "I'm not even going to answer that," Ralph said flatly.

        "Here we are then," Zane said, stubbing a finger at the screen. "Does the name 'Austramaddux' mean anything to you?"

        "No," Ralph said, raising his eyebrows. "There's a profile with that name?"

        "Right here. Created around midnight day before last. No other info and no game progress at all."

James blinked. "No game progress?"

        "Nope," Zane said, shutting the device down and passing it back to Ralph under the table. "Plenty of login time, but no actual gaming. Probably couldn't figure out that D-pad up and the left shoulder button worked the super attack. Newbies."

        James rolled his eyes. "So what's it mean? Who is Austra-whatsisname?"

        "It's just a made up name, like I said," Ralph said, stuffing the GameDeck into the bottom of his bag. "It doesn't mean anything. Right?"

        Ralph said the last to Zane, who was sitting across the table looking almost comically thoughtful. He had his head tilted, his brow furrowed, and one corner of his mouth cinched up, dimpling his cheek. After a moment, he shook his head. "I don't know. It's familiar. Seems like somebody just mentioned that name, but I can't place it."

        "Well, all I know," Ralph said, propping his chin on his hands, "is I'm dumping this thing off with my dad at the break. I'm sorry I ever saw it."

        "Mr. Potter," a voice suddenly boomed nearby. All three of them jumped. It was Professor Slughorn. He had approached the table and was suddenly standing behind James' chair. "I had hoped to run into you. So good to see you, my boy. So good indeed."

        James forced a smile as Slughorn patted him on the back. "Thank you, sir."