"I have nothing to say whatsoever," she replied easily. "He is clearly deranged. No one would believe the word of such a person."

        "Mr. Recreant?" Harry said, turning to the stunned man. "Do you concur with Miss Sacarhina's assessment?"

        Recreant's eyes moved like flies, flicking back and forth between Sacarhina and Harry. "I'd…," he began, and then lowered both his eyes and his voice. "I'd like the chance to discuss this outside of Miss Sacarhina's hearing."

        "Mr. Recreant, as your superior, I forbid--"

        "You'll forbid nothing, Madam," Neville said sternly, slipping his own wand from his robes.

        "In the name of ambassadorial security, I have to insist…," Sacarhina began, but stopped as Harry pointed his wand at her.

        "In the name of the Ministry of Magic and the Auror Department," he said, "I place you, Miss Brenda Sacarhina, under arrest for attempted violation of section two of the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy and for the theft of Ministry of Magic property."

        Sacarhina tried to smile, but it was a relatively poor attempt. "You can't prove anything, Mr. Potter. This is a foolish and dangerous game you are playing. I will only warn you once to stand down."

        "You should think twice before conspiring with people who despise you, Miss Sacarhina," Merlin said, smiling ruefully. "I had a charming and illuminating conversation with Madame Delacroix when I discovered her in the forest. She has much to say about you, I'm afraid, and very little of it is what I'd be prepared to call flattering."

        Neville was leading Mr. Recreant out of the room, with the Headmistress following. Harry gestured with his wand. "Come, Miss Sacarhina. Titus Hardcastle awaits to escort you back to the Ministry, and patience is not one of his stronger suits."

Sacarhina's face went blank as she realized she had no choice but to follow along. No doubt she had a very good defense ready, James thought as she stalked out of the room in front of his dad. People like her always had lots of ways to cover their tracks. Still, it didn't look good for Brenda Sacarhina. As the door leading to the Great Hall swung open, James saw Titus Hardcastle grinning mirthlessly, his wand pointing carefully at the floor.

        James found himself left only with Merlin, Zane, Ralph, and Dennis Dolohov

        Dennis looked at his son, and then touched him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ralph. I really am. I was… confused."

        "You should've told me, Dad," Ralph said, dropping his eyes.

        Dennis nodded. After a moment, he raised his eyes to Merlin. "Am I going to go to wizarding prison?" he asked, trying to firm his voice. "I'll… I'll go along quietly, I guess."

        "Somehow, I suspect not, Mr. Dolohov," Merlin said, turning to lead the group out of the chamber. He opened the door leading to the Great Hall. "But your actions have resulted in quite a conundrum. It appears that this school's security, strong as it may once have been, is not quite prepared to meet the challenges of modern Muggle technology. Perhaps you'd have some thoughts on how to improve it?"

        Dennis frowned. "What are you suggesting? You want my help?"

        Merlin shrugged. "I am simply acknowledging a rather curious coincidence. You are in need of employment and we are in need of a revised security programme. As a wizard who also happens to be an expert in Muggle technology, you seem rather uniquely qualified to serve in that regard."

        Dennis grinned in relief. "I'll think about that, sir."

        "I am in no position to make any offers on behalf of this school, of course," Merlin said, crossing the Great Hall with his long, commanding stride. "But I know the Headmistress. I'll see what I can do."

        "So," Zane said, following Ralph and James into the Entrance Hall, "turns out you were of solid magical stock after all, Ralph, even if they were a bunch of cruel, heartless purebloods. Not that it matters, really, but it does sort of explain why you were made a Slytherin."

        "Maybe," Ralph said quietly. "This is all too much for me to take in one day. Either way, none of that magic was mine. It was the staff."

        Merlin stopped near the stairs, and then turned slowly. He gazed at Ralph speculatively. "You were the keeper of my staff?"

        "Yeah," Ralph answered dejectedly. "I kept it from killing anyone, I guess. But barely."

"Don't listen to him," Zane said. "He was spectacular with it. Saved James' life once with it. Grew a peach tree out of a banana, too! So he once burned a bald stripe onto Victoire's head in D.A.D.A. All of us have thought about doing that to her from time to time just to shut her up."

        Merlin approached Ralph. James was certain the wizard hadn't been carrying his staff a moment before, but as he lowered himself to one knee in front of Ralph, he now held it in his right hand. The runes along its length were dark, but James remembered how they'd pulsed with green light the night before.

        "Mr. Deedle--or shall I call you Mr. Dolohov?" Merlin said.

        "I'm kind of attached to the Deedle," Ralph answered, glancing up at his father. "I don't know if I'm ready to be a Dolohov yet. Sorry, Dad." Dennis gave a small understanding smile.

        "Mr. Deedle, then," Merlin said. "Not just any wizard could have born the responsibility of the staff. You have heard it said that the wand chooses the wizard, and this is true. Madame Delacroix believed you were merely a vessel to bring the staff to her, but she was mistaken. The staff chose you. A lesser wizard would have been unable even to hold the staff, much less use it. But you, without knowing it, brought the staff under your own power. You had no idea of the strength of it, and yet you managed it. It obeyed you, and that is the mark of a wizard of very, very great potential. Part of this staff now belongs to you, Mr. Deedle. I have felt it. I knew that a portion of it was no longer my own, but I knew not whose it was. Now I know."

        Merlin lowered his staff so that it lay across his knee. He closed his eyes and felt along the length of the staff, his hand barely touching the wood. Faint green light moved within the runes, flickering. Merlin wrapped his hand around the lower, tapered end of his staff, then, with barely a twist, broke off the last foot of its length. He opened his eyes again and held the length of wood out to Ralph.

        "You are, I believe, in need of a wand, Mr. Deedle."