Chimaera of Judgement



CHAPTER TEN: On The Other Puddifoot

Somehow, with no help from Albus and Rose, the grand tale of their detention in the Forbidden Forest had circulated throughout the school by lunchtime the following day. He had a sneaking suspicion this was Ryan Macmillan's doing, being that most of the snippets of story he heard painted Ryan in the light of conquering hero - though when they caught him in the courtyard between classes, regaling a group of second-years with his deeds of daring do that somehow involved an enchanted dagger and a phial of Re'em blood, he reverted to the true account.

"Just having a bit of fun," he muttered.

The Saturday after they narrowly escaped death by way of the strangest automobile accident in history was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Though he'd been many times before, Albus found himself excited; their raid on his Fizzing Whizbees had depleted his store of sweets, and he thought he might buy Rose a pair of socks from Gladrags for laughs. Meanwhile, Lily was beside herself.

"Oh, I can't wait to get out and about on my own!" she gasped animatedly at anyone who would listen - mostly her friend Kayla Sylvanus, whom was almost equally enthused. "Of course, we've been to Hogsmeade before with Mum and Dad, but this- this is freedom!"

"I'd like to be free of her incessant prattling," Hugo confided in Albus, who tried not to grin where his sister could see him. "She won't shut up about it! Myself, I'm only truly interested in seeing the Shrieking Shack up close. Unfortunately, Father won't let us anywhere near it, he says it has 'bad mojo', whatever that means."

A heady wind buffeted them as they queued up at the gates, Mr Urran standing there with his checklist of those students allowed into town. Albus spotted Jasper Zane a few students along, ducking next to a particularly large Ravenclaw sixth-year. He asked Rose to save his spot, then strode forward to his shoulder, whispering, "Give it up, Zane - who do you think you're fooling?"

The boy gasped, brown eyes locking with Albus's green ones, then scurried off toward the castle.

"That was mean," Rose admonished. "Gave the poor kid a right start."

"Hey, what if Urran gave him a detention? I just figured, as a prefect, it was my duty to save him from himself."

She shrugged. "I suppose. Seriously, were we dumber than trolls when we were ickle firsties?"

Their first stop was Honeydukes, a treasure trove of all things abominably sweet - and even things that weren't, like blood-flavoured lollipops (one of which Rose tried to shove into his mouth). He'd emptied his schoolbag in anticipation of bringing a full load back to his dormitory, but forced himself to only fill it up a third of the way with things like Chocoballs and Licorice Wands. There were other stores to visit, and he didn't want to run out of room.

As per usual, the Hogsmeade branch of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was packed with students, buying Fanged Frisbees and love potions, or else looking at them and wondering how they were going to get them past Mr Urran. Among these was his sister Lily, whom he wasn't sure he liked hearing talk about love potions at all. Tranky Thomas could be seen near the back of the shop, holding up a Muggle "magic wand" with passing interest. Albus, for his part, bought a new pack of Exploding Snap cards, a Wall-Flower and a Decoy Detonator, and was picking up one of their Vanishing Hats to examine it more closely when he saw movement through the shop window.

"I think my Extendable Ears need replacing," said Rose, scrutinising a clear bag full of flesh-coloured string. "Should I splurge on- hey!"

"Rose," he hissed, pulling her to the glass and pointing. "What are they up to?"

Scorpius Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins were smirking and chuckling, their heads close together just across from the joke shop. One of them gesticulated wildly - Genevieve, perhaps? After a few moments, they clutched their cloaks more tightly around their necks and set off up the High Street.

"Let's follow them," he whispered.

"What, why?!"

"Come on!"

Dropping the bag of Extendable Ears atop a stack of Skiving Snackboxes, she sighed and followed him out into the windswept street. He could just see Chester Pucey disappearing around Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop.

"They're not far ahead, we can-"

"Hold up, will you?" she hissed. Almost already regretting it, she said, "Fine, but if we're headed straight into the loony bin, we might try not to get caught - just hope this works right, never tried it before..."

"W-wait a second, what are-"

Her wand connected painfully with his crown, and he fought the urge to cry out. A creepy sensation, like cold, thick liquid, ran down from his head and into every part of him. Confused, he whirled to demand Rose explain herself, but found he couldn't - she had disappeared.

"Rose?" he called, panicking. "Rose!"

"Shut up, I'm right here, genius," the open air hissed. "I did a Disillusionment Charm on us. Hang on, I can still see your feet, let me try it again..."

"A- a what?" As she smacked him again, he glanced down at himself to receive a shock - the surface of his cloak had decided to mimic the street and shops behind him, as if a rather dim painter had mistaken him for a stretch of canvas and began capturing the scenery. "I-"

"You did want to follow the dodgy brick road, didn't you?"

Scrutinizing the air very carefully, he could just make out movement in front of him, though had he not been searching for it he'd never have spotted this. Rubbing what he knew would grow into a lump, he hastened to catch up to her. They rounded the corner to find Malfoy and his lackeys peering into the window of a quaint little tea shop a few doors along Albus had never seen before, snickering and pointing through the glass as if they were watching a real show; he had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't like what he saw nearly as much as they did.

Clutching wildly at the air for a few seconds, he came into contact with the back of Rose's robes - or so he thought.

"Ow!"

He made note to apologise for pulling her hair later, watching in horrified silence as Malfoy looked up sharply, cold grey eyes sweeping the street for the source of the noise. After a moment, he seemed to decide it was nothing, for he returned to watching the spectacular treat in front of him. Feeling his way across her back to her upper arm, Albus slowly guided Rose closer to the shop, barely able to catch her sighing resignedly.

"...would do it," Malfoy was saying when they got close enough to hear. "Doesn't have anything to lose, does she? Can't help but take it at face value like the pathetic little besom she is."

"You don't know what it's like, having to hear Scurvy cry like a newborn in the bathroom," Genevieve Nott spat with supreme distaste. "Like listening to Myrtle. Sometimes I feel like bursting into her cubicle, shoving her in and flushing the toilet, hoping it'll suck her down and stop all the noise."

"This is better than that, though, isn't it? Stroke of brilliance, if I do say so myself."

"I'm bored," Atticus Malkin whinged, glowering at the others as he leaned against the wall. "Can't we crack on to the Hog's Head or somewhere? I'd even take my Runes homework over this - there's only so long you can watch desperation like that before it gets old."

Scorpius frowned at him, but said, "Whatever. Wish I had my mother's camera, though, love to have a photograph of this..."

Praying that his instincts were completely off, Albus edged over enough to be able to see what they were seeing, and his blood ran hot.

Jezabel Skirrow was sitting alone in the window of the tea shop, staring down at her hands. That is, he thought she was - he couldn't see her eyes, but her face was generally pointed in that direction. A bit of parchment was next to her, and a teacup gently steamed in the middle of the table, though it looked as if she hadn't touched it at all. Perhaps it was because she was alone, or perhaps because her jumper was the most putrid shade of olive green Albus had ever laid eyes on, but either way the other patrons he could see from his vantage point were casting her furtive glances, as if worried she might explode or otherwise upset their pleasant afternoon.

This was too far. Unless Albus was missing some vital information, she hadn't done anything to them, and there they were taking pleasure in her obvious misery. Something had to be done, and he wasn't going to stand around waiting for it to happen. Seized by a dark shot of inspiration, Albus reached into his Disillusioned bag and felt around for a specific candy; he knew roughly how big it should be, that it should be the smallest. Fingers closing on it at last, he tore the wrapper open, walked up directly behind Malfoy and popped three or four into his mouth.

The Pepper Imps did their job immediately - a large plume of flame shot from his invisible lips and set the boy's white-blonde hair ablaze.

"AAAGH!" he screamed, running around and desperately patting at his head; Albus jumped back and out of the way, watching as his heart filled with wicked glee. "Help me, help, I've caught fire, help!"

"Scorpy!" Genevieve screamed, rushing to his side and dancing about uselessly. "What- what happened?! Oh, someone help, please!"

"AAAGH!"

The Slytherins took off for the High Street, Malfoy leaving a trail of acrid smoke hanging in the air as they sped around the corner and out of sight.

"Are you off your nut?!" Rose hissed at him over his laughter, rapping both he and herself on the heads with her wand to bring them back into view; he dimly noticed the sensation was quite a bit warmer the second time. "You're lucky nobody else saw what really happened, we could've got in trouble!"

"Oh, give over, Rosie, that toerag totally deserved it! Did you see his face?"

After a few moments, she started laughing as well, and they both broke down in gales against the brick edifice, clutching their sides as they sank to the ground. It seemed like a good long while had passed before he gusted, "Well, that was well worth coming into the village."

"Definitely!" she choked with a nod, wiping at her eyes. "Er, I mean, I still think it was rash, but hey - who else would you light on fire?"

"Had to be done. I'm not sure what's going on, but they were picking on that weird Slytherin girl again and I couldn't just sit there and let them enjoy it."

"Yeah..." She nodded, sobering. "Blimey, did she look bleak in there."

"Lucky you could hide us properly or we'd have never found out as much as we did. Speaking of which," he said as he turned to her, "when did you come over all swotty? That's no novice magic you pulled back there!"

"Oh, well, y'know," she said evasively, cheeks flushing. "Sometimes I watch and learn, and... anyway," she coughed, "let's get out of here, I fancy a butterbeer after-"

"Wait, we-" He stared at her in disbelief. "We've got to go in, don't we?"

"In what? You mean-" It was not a pleasant thought, but he thought she needn't look so horrified. "You mean into the café? With- with that girl?"

Albus's shoulders sagged. "We kind of have to. Somebody has to tell her they're toying with her... and I guess that's up to us."

"But she's so- so-" She squirmed for a moment. "You're right, Al - what they were doing... it's awful, but- but I just-"

"What?"

"Al, don't you see what kind of place this is?" she whispered, pointing up at the sign hanging above the door. He could see it read "Madame Puddifoot's" in letters of lilac above a picture of a teacup, but this told him nothing. "It's a cozy little spot for young couples to make a disgusting spectacle of themselves. Maybe if you go in by yourself-"

"Rose!"

"-then you won't draw so much attention," she finished determinedly. "Three people sitting at a table for two? Kind of strange, isn't it? Makes them look like... swingers or something. And hey, if you can get her to come to the Three Broomsticks, I'll meet you there, honestly. But..."

He sighed impatiently, annoyed at the way she wasn't meeting his eyes. "What? For Peverell's sake, Rose, what?"

"Well, I just feel weird about walking into a place like that with- y'know... with you."

There it was, the real reason. James's ribbing, all the rumours, she gladly suffered those - but two cousins of opposite gender, walking into a supposedly romantic setting like that tea shop together, would throw more petrol on the fire than she cared to endure. He hoped he was wrong, but one look at her face told him his hopes were in vain.

"Wow, I'm sorry, I... wow."

Her eyes rolled toward the sky. "C'mon, don't be cross with me."

"I'm not cross, really - I wasn't thinking. You're right, that'd look more than a little wrong."

She bit her lip, watching him carefully for a moment. With a twitch, she said, "Hey, Al, it's- maybe I-"

"You go ahead." He scrambled to his feet, wanting to get on with it. "Have a drink in the pub, or maybe hit up Dervish and Banges first. I'll catch you up later."

They stood there between a cottage and Madame Puddifoot's for what felt like an eternity before Rose turned and headed back toward the High Street, the wind whipping her hair around. As he watched her go and prepared to turn into the tea shop, he couldn't help but feel like they were going to forever leave a piece of themselves lying in the gutter. For the first time he could remember, his cousin being a girl interfered with their friendship in a very real, significant way. Finally, almost purely as an excuse to stop thinking about what it might mean, he headed inside.

The place was almost offensive with lace; if he hadn't already known it was a spot in which to hold hands and whisper sweet nothings, there was no escaping it once inside. Ignoring the flickering red candles and the quiet violin music, he made for the long, unwashed mane near the window, but hesitated when he got closer. Should he tap her on the shoulder? Should he say "hello" first? How do you greet somebody who you're about to let down easy, especially when you don't even know what you're letting them down from?

Eventually, he settled on walking around to the other seat. When she didn't look up, he softly said, "Excuse me..."

Her head jerked up. "Wh-what?"

"Er... is this seat taken?"

"Oh..." What little he could see of her face through the hair (how did she get it to do that?) began to pinken. "Albus Potter, it's you, it- you're here."

"Yeah. Can- can I sit?"

She started, shaking hands nearly knocking over the teacup in her haste to pull it toward her. "Oh, of course, by all means, please do, yes!"

"Thanks." If he didn't feel so bad about the whole situation, he might have laughed at her overeager response. "Er... what's that you have there?"

Her head tilted to the side for a moment, then glanced down at the slip of parchment and back to him. "This... you don't know what it is?"

"Eh?" He blinked rapidly. "Sorry... should I?"

"Oh." Her head bowed again, hands returning to her lap. "No, it's okay."

They sat like that for a long moment, the mediocre violin filling their ears in the near-silence. Albus had a feeling he'd said quite the wrong thing, but without any frame of reference... "Listen," he began at last, "did... did somebody give that to you?" She nodded. "A Slytherin, or that is, another Slytherin? Maybe Malfoy?"

"B-but you said you didn't know what it was."

"Well, no, but..." The knots in his stomach constricted further. "Your name is... Jezabel, right?" Another nod. "Thing is, I don't- oh, it's so bloody horrible, I can't..."

Neither of them spoke for another ridiculous moment; her expression was unreadable, being that he could only really see her nose. Finally, she said, "It was a ruse."

"Yeah," he gusted. "Whatever the note said, I'm guessing it's not true. Only-"

"Thank you," she said politely, pushing her teacup away. "Truly... it's good of you to tell me, and- and I do believe I'll be going, now."

"Hey, it- you don't have to run off or-"

"It's okay." Digging in her pockets, she bunged a Sickle onto the table, nearly dropping it into her tea. "This sort of thing, I'm used to it, happens so often. Even this time, I thought it might be, knew it must be, but I... anyway, doesn't matter now. G-goodbye."

Albus could tell she was shaking as she walked through the tables and out the door. Then he saw she'd left the parchment on the table. It was a rather sticky choice - did he dare? Perhaps he shouldn't, it wasn't his to read. Erring on the side of shameless curiosity, he snatched it up and read quickly, as it didn't exactly take long:

"Please meet us in the coffee shop in Hogsmeade, we'll have a great time. Albus Potter."

He had been mistaken - this was too far. Debating over his next course of action for the barest moment, he pocketed the note and ran after her.

"Jezabel!" he called, darting out of the side street and just spotting her down another, watching her mad hair being blown all around as he hurried to overtake her. She did stop, but refused to turn around. "Come on, you- really, you have to listen!"

"G-go away!" Then she whirled, hands over her face. "My God, I- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that, you don't-"

"Who cares!" He braced his hands against his knees, trying to catch his breath quickly. "It's... I'm sorry, I read that note, the- the horrible thing they-"

"Please," she said more carefully, turning away again. "I... I would like to be left alone just now."

"But they did this! I would never play a joke on you like that, you have to believe me!"

She gave a little laugh. "I have watched you, you know. Of course you wouldn't. You're not like that at all."

"Then... then why'd you run away?"

"As I've said, I- I want to be alone. I don't feel well."

This sounded like a little white lie, but he somehow knew he shouldn't fight her on it. "All right, then, if you're sure-"

"I am. If you'll excuse me, please."

It was as if there were an obstinate Shield Charm standing in the way; there had to be something he could do or say to put this right, to make her feel as if she hadn't just been the victim of a disgusting prank, but not a word came to him. Worst of all, she was asking to be alone, and if he tried anything further she might get more upset. Nodding sadly, he stepped back and allowed her to hurry past, noting that she was off toward Hogwarts.

"If I'd had a day like this, I'd probably call it done as well," he muttered to himself, heading for the Three Broomsticks and feeling nothing short of lousy.

o o o

"You're kidding," breathed Rose when he got to the part about the note. "From you?"

"See for yourself." Ripping it from his outstretched hand, she stared at it in disbelief for a few seconds before crumpling it up, furious.

"It's not on. Leading her on like that, like she's not even... they have to pay for this. How many more of those Pepper Imps do you have?"

He laughed humourlessly. "Doubt it'd work twice. Besides, that's too light a sentence for those filthy gits. Maybe if Honeydukes carried something like Pepper Dragons..."

"But we're missing something here, something key... why are they so awful to her? What in Merlin's name has she done, exactly?"

"Since when do the Slytherins need a reason to terrorise people?"

"But that's just it - she is a Slytherin! Shouldn't they be celebrating her being with golden streamers instead of talking about flushing her down the loo?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't like her."

"Hey, I-" She shifted guiltily. "Come off it, I never said I hated her. Only... well, she's so gloomy and odd. Didn't mean I wished her harm or anything."

"Right, right." Frowning, he took the wad of parchment and tossed it into his schoolbag. "But I get what you mean, I've never heard of anybody in Slytherin turning on their own kind. It's very peculiar. And I'm really confused why they said it was from me..."

They sat sipping their butterbeers for a while, watching the other patrons and contemplating the strange girl's plight. That is, Albus thought both of them were thinking on the same matter before, with no forewarning, Rose blurted, "I didn't mean to abandon you, really, it just didn't feel right, and everybody already thinks we're having a snog behind the broomshed or something, and you've got enough problems with the other Gryffindors, and I figured you could handle it yourself, I'd just be in the way anyway, but you probably could've used my help, and I wasn't there, and you don't-"

"Rose!"

She fell silent, staring into her tankard.

"It's all right." When she didn't look up, he reached over and patted her hand, gossip be damned. "There's some things we simply can't do together - you wouldn't follow me into the boy's lavatory, either. It's my fault, I just wasn't paying attention."

"Didn't used to be like this, though," she whispered. "Er, except for the lavatory part. W-we've always done everything together, since birth - seems barking that we can't."

"Yeah. But, well... there you are."

"No, I... I'm not." Her blazing blue eyes shot up to bore into his. "You're my best mate, Al. No matter how many toilets and tea shops there are, you'd better not forget that."

"Don't worry, I won't. Ever." He couldn't stave off the grin. When she wouldn't stop staring at him as if willing him not to shut her out of his life - which she was in no danger of - he figured he had to do something drastic to loosen her up. "Not as long as I have... Wombie."

The colour drained from her face, and her eyes darted around nervously. "Shh!"

"Yep." He nodded sagely, folding his arms over his chest. "Still tucked safely away in my bureau. You're stuck with me."

"You prat, don't- we're in a public place!"

The innocent blinking only made her angrier. "What? Don't want to talk about... WOM-mmph!"

A few heads turned to investigate, but they were unlikely to learn more as she'd already slapped both hands over his mouth.

END Chapter Ten