"Don't worry about it, Ralph," Zane said, but his voice was less confident than usual. "We've got James' magic map here. We can check it again, but according to it, most of your buddies are out watching the Slytherins practice for the tournament. Right, James?"

        James had the Marauder's Map unfolded in his hands. He studied it as he walked. "As far as I can tell, there's only a couple of people in the Slytherin dorms, and none of them are people we need to worry about."

        "Are you sure you're reading that thing right?" Ralph asked, plugging his ring into the eye socket of the snake sculpture on the gigantic wooden door. "Last I heard, you said you couldn't even remember how to get it to work."

        "Well, it's working, isn't it?" James replied testily. In truth, he was worried about the accuracy of the map. He had remembered the phrase to get the map to open and display the grounds, but as his dad had feared, the castle had changed rather a lot since the map had been created by Moony, Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail. Irregular chunks of the map were completely blank, and each blank section was marked with a notation that read redrawing required, please see Messrs. Prongs and Padfoot for assistance. James could only guess that his grandfather and Sirius Black had been the chief artists who'd plotted the map, but since both were long since dead, there would apparently be no redrawing of the map to fill in the rebuilt areas. The tiny names that marked the locations of everyone on campus could still be seen moving here and there, but as they entered one of the blank areas, their marker and name would flicker out. Fortunately, the Slytherin quarters were under the lake, and therefore had been very little damaged in the Battle of Hogwarts (Ralph had learned that only the main entry had been destroyed in the siege). James could see the entire warren of Slytherin rooms and halls on the Marauder's Map.

        The snake sculpture asked its questions. Ralph announced himself and explained who James and Zane were, and that they were friends. The glowing green snake eye examined Zane and James for a long moment, and then unlocked the complicated system of bolts and bars that secured the door.

        The three boys couldn't help skulking as they moved through the apparently deserted Slytherin common room. The brackish green sunlight, filtered by the lake water above the stained-glass ceilings, filled the room with murky shadows. The fire was a dull red glow in the gigantic fireplace, which was sculpted in marble to resemble an open snake's mouth.

        "Nothing like reading a good book in front of gaping doom," Zane murmured, passing the fireplace. "So where do they keep their broomsticks, Ralph?"

Ralph shook his head. "I told you already, I don't know. I just know there isn't a common locker or anything, like the Gryffindors or Ravenclaws. Most of these guys don't trust each other all that much. Everybody has a private closet with a special magical key. Besides, their brooms aren't here now, anyway, are they? They've all got them out at the Quidditch pitch."

        "We aren't here to grab it now," Zane answered, peering around the common room. "We're just here to scope out where they might hide them."

        Even in the middle of a spring day, the Slytherin rooms were a pall of shifting green dimness. "Lumos," James said, illuminating his wand and holding it aloft. "This hall goes back to the boys' quarters, right Ralph?"

        "Yeah. The girls' rooms are on the other side, up those stairs."

        Zane threaded through the furniture of the common room, aiming for the stairs. "Panty raid in the Slytherin girls' quarters. I'm on it."

        "Wait," James said sharply. "It'll be charmed, you know. No boys are allowed in any of the girls' quarters. You go up there, it'll be sure to set off some sort of alarm."

        Zane stopped, glancing at James, and then turned back to the stairway. "Drat. They thought of everything, didn't they?"

        "Besides," Ralph said from across the room, "they're called 'knickers' around here."

        "You say 'potato', I say 'patata'…," Zane muttered.

        "Can we get back to why we're here, after all?" James said as loudly as he dared. "We're supposed to be looking for ways to get to Tabitha's broom. Even if all we can do is figure out where she keeps it."

        "Believe it or not," Zane said primly, "that's what I was thinking of. For all we know, she sleeps with the thing. Even if she doesn't, you can bet she keeps it near enough to guard. That means getting into the girls' quarters, doesn't it?"

        James shook his head. "Not possible. I'm beginning to see how helpful it was for my dad to have Aunt Hermione as part of his crew. He could've sent her up to check things out. We're pretty much stuck, though."

        As James finished speaking, a noise came from the stairway. The three boys froze guiltily, looking toward the stairs. There was a shuffling of small feet, and then a tiny house-elf came down balancing a basket of rumpled clothing on its head. The elf stopped, seeing the three boys staring at it.

        "Many pardons, masters," the elf said, and James could tell by the timbre of its voice that it was a female. "Just collecting the washing, if you please." Her bulbous eyes flicked between the three of them. She seemed disconcerted to have elicited such keen interest. James realized she was probably used to being completely ignored, if she was seen at all.

"Not a problem, Miss…" Zane said, affecting a small bow and taking a step back from the stairs.

        The elf didn't move. Her eyes followed Zane's movement with increasing consternation. "Excuse me, master?"

        "Your name, Miss?" Zane replied.

        "Ah. Er. Figgle, master. I apologize, master. Figgle isn't accustomed to masters and mistresses speaking to her, master." The elf seemed to be nearly vibrating with nervousness.

        "I'm sure that is true, Figgle," Zane said understandingly. "You see, I'm a member of an organization you may have heard of. We're called the… uh…" Zane glanced back at James, his eyes wide. James remembered telling Zane and Ralph about Aunt Hermione's equal rights for elves organization.

        James stuttered, "Oh. Yeah, S.P.E.W. The Society for the Promotion of, uh, Elfish Welfare?"

        "Yes, what he said," Zane said, spinning back to Figgle, who flinched. "S.P.E.W. You've heard of us, no doubt. We help those who elf themselves."

        "Figgle hasn't, master. Not a bit. Figgle has loads of work, master."