Chimaera of Judgement



CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Something In The Water

"You did what?!"

Though Albus had predicted Rose would react this way when he told her about his late-night excursion on Sunday afternoon, the ringing in his ears from her shouting caught him off guard. "Bloody hell, Rose, will you watch your volume? You're going to get me thrown out of here!"

"Sorry," she hissed, glancing over at Madam Pomfrey, whom had indeed glared in their general direction after her outburst. "But... why?!"

For roughly fifteen minutes Rose remained silent, tightly bound and sitting up in her hospital bed as Albus related the story of the faux banshee and the other marble block on the edge of the lake. When he was finished, though she'd gasped and frowned in all the right places, she didn't exactly seem impressed.

"But you could've been caught, and Urran would've flogged you straightaway! Oh, come on, Al, what on earth were you thinking?!"

"I know, I know... I wasn't, really. It just- dammit, there's so many questions, and I thought if I could sort one mystery once and for all I might relieve some pressure! But..."

"Yeah," she breathed. "A Muggle-born Slytherin! Blimey..."

Albus snorted humourlessly. "That's what I said."

"This is stark raving bonkers! We may have just verified that there aren't any death-dealing sirens swarming around Hogwarts, and now you've a new problem, don't you?"

"Is that what it is?" He wasn't being a smartarse, because he really didn't know what to do or think about any of it. "Jezabel Skirrow isn't in our House, she's not in our grade... sure, we get on reasonably well, but I don't think that makes us mates or anything."

"Hmm, she seemed to think you more than that in Hogsmeade," said Rose, her nose crinkling as she took a hunk of Honeydukes chocolate from her bedside table.

"Shut up."

She leaned back, wincing from some small pain. "You are right about one thing: even if she were a loathsome, lice-infested tart, she wouldn't in a million years deserve to be treated the way she is!"

"Even though she's a Slytherin?"

"Even if she were Voldemort," Rose seethed, crumbling up the chocolate she had been on point of eating. "Mind you, I still think she's creepy, and skittish, but... can't something be done? Anything?"

"Trust me, I feel the same way." Albus propped his feet up on her bed, not acknowledging the offended "tuh!" of its occupant. "Trouble is, I can't think of a thing. All we can do is tell our Head of House, but... what would he do? Tell them to leave off teasing her? Tell Dryden to put them off it? It's like all the obvious solutions would only make things worse for her, which is the opposite of what we want."

"This is making my brain hurt," she whimpered, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Don't we have enough stress from our O.W.L.s without rescuing a Slytherin from her own dungeon?"

o o o

The unpleasant truth of it is, she needn't have fretted. After the encounter at Professor Snape's tomb, they saw hide nor unkempt hair of Jezabel, even though they were now officially looking - especially around the tomb, which she either did not return to, or did so in such a secretive manner that they couldn't find her at all. Rose postulated she'd skived the rest of the year, but Albus thought differently; one of the few things she told him she did with her time was homework, and if she left school she'd have even less to do with herself. It seemed more likely to him that she'd been serious when telling him her sanctuary had been compromised, and he felt awful for forcing her out. Many hours a day did he spend pondering where she was hiding now, whether she was all right...

Between their classload and gruelling Quidditch practises, the last three weeks of November seemed to slip through their fingers. Albus found himself enjoying school again, for with no further ghost hijinks and the banshee mystery out of the way, his free moments were concentrated on Jezabel and the Slytherins, and as they could never find Jezabel to try and speak with her again, the mysteries slowly took a backseat to everyday life. It did occur to Albus to check the Marauder's Map for her occasionally, but the only time he ever spotted her dot on it was when she was in the Slytherin dormitories, and he certainly couldn't meet her there.

On the subject of Slytherins, Cygnus Bulstrode, the seventh-year who had helped Timothy Goyle blatch Rose in the Quidditch game, turned up in the hospital wing complaining of a horrible stomachache, and it's only noteworthy because it gave the Gryffindors a good chuckle in the midst of their gruelling studies. Madam Pomfrey had to pump his stomach, as well as feed him an enormous load of chocolate and Pepper-Up Potion. Albus couldn't spare him much sympathy, as not only was Bulstrode notorious for eating anything on a dare, but pairing that with fact that Rose had spent the weekend bedridden because of the Beater made him far less likely to care.

As a prefect, it also seemed to Albus as though Rose had been right: every student in the castle had been waiting for them to get their badges before misbehaving. Rose caught Zacharias Travers, Atticus Malkin and Timothy Goyle skulking around by the old Divination tower trying to skive off classes, and had to dock them house points before getting them to move along - not that this was unusual behaviour for Slytherins, but they'd never had to worry about tending to the problem before. Later the same day, Albus himself walked in on Tanith Moon and Kayla Sylvanus, friends of Lily's in her year, in a heated catfight over who got to return a quill Albus had left in History Of Magic. He found it difficult to reprimand them while all three students were turning steadily redder in the face, and settled for pulling the quill out of their hands and scarpering out of there before he said or did something silly.

"What you have to understand, Al," Rose chortled between bites of bread and stew at dinner, "is that you're the star player of the team, now, so you're bound to have a fan club. Caught the Snitch your first game, didn't you? That sort of thing brings fame."

"I didn't feel very famous, not with you bloodied up on the pitch."

"Sorry about stealing your thunder, mate. Kind of unfortunate that had to happen in your first game, the day should have been yours."

Albus gaped at her. "Come off it, do you really think I'd hold that against you? They nearly snapped your spine!"

She shrugged, reaching for her goblet of pumpkin juice. "I know, just saying. But all that aside... which one do you fancy more, Tanith or-"

"Will you be quiet?! They're right over there!" Rose only crowed louder.

It happened that Rose's birthday fell just a few days after the third-years had battled for Albus's affections, and while her comments had made him want to give her naught but a raspberry, he wrapped a gift hurriedly and Spellotaped it closed. He threw the little package at her that morning in the common room.

"Joy, Honeydukes sweets. And- what in the bloody-?!"

Out of the package she pulled a pair of bright-green socks with roses embroidered on every inch of them.

"The buds wilt if you don't wash them often enough," he laughed.

She glared at him. "Just what exactly are you trying to say, here?"

Several days later, Barty confided in them that he'd seen Dorika Dunsmore being thrown out of the library for drooling all over one of their books, having fallen asleep atop it. This only increased Albus's pity for her, and he resolved to tell her to get a good night's rest lest she kill herself.

In fact, it seemed life was quite rough for poor little Dorika, as when she debuted as Hufflepuff's new Chaser at the second and final Quidditch game of Fall term she couldn't have performed worse. Nearly every time she had the Quaffle she fumbled it, and missed several easy opportunities to steal from one of Ravenclaw's players. Most attributed this to lack of sleep, or nerves - possibly both. Either way, Dorika's team lost by a dismal 190 points, and the next day her eyes appeared twice as bloodshot as before.

It occurred to Albus that something had changed without him even realising: Ryan Macmillan and Puerilis Logan were no longer behaving like baboons at every available opportunity. The shift had been so imperceptible that it had taken him this long to notice, but ever since their car maintenance quest in the Forest and Logan's being skewered, neither had held the same vigor in knocking him as in previous years. Being that Albus was very, very thankful for this, he didn't bring it to their attention.

December dawned cold and snowy, bringing the thing that made most students begin to let their minds drift from classwork: Professor Longbottom circulating through the Great Hall with a clipboard, asking students if they would be signing up to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break. The mere mention of the thing coming up made it much more real in their minds, and Albus and Rose were no exception.

"Can't wait to get out of here," Rose was saying, waving away the clipboard when the professor came by. "Sleep in my room, drop by the Burrow for tea... not be blatched by frogspawn-for-brains Slytherin barkers."

"Like to get back to Grimmauld Place, myself," Albus agreed, politely declining also. "Still... this place isn't so bad most days, is it?"

Her eyes wandered to where the Fat Friar was being shunned by most of the Hufflepuffs, then to Logan, examining the scar on his leg again. "Most days."

o o o

As if the ever-increasingly taxing work during class weren't enough, it seemed the teachers had decided the best Christmas gift to their students would be a tottering pile of essays and studying in their last weeks before the Christmas holiday. It was under these Albus and Rose found themselves every evening in the Gryffindor common room, struggling to dig their way to daylight.

"That's got Dryden's essay done," Rose sighed, tossing a roll of parchment toward her bag and coming up short. "Drat."

"Just leave it," said Albus, stifling a yawn. "You can pick it up when you go to put this Transfiguration illustration in there."

Without warning, she exploded. "Argh, I can't take it anymore! D'you want to get out of here?"

"What? But we can't, there's so much-"

"It'll be just as much an hour from now! Let's have a fly around the castle!"

"I get more than enough flying five nights a week, thanks." Despite the fact that they wouldn't be playing in another Quidditch match until late February, Olivia Wood had stepped up practises yet again, and if Albus never saw his dad's broom again it would be too soon.

"Then let's... hey, there's an idea! Let's go to the bathroom!"

This certainly made him look up. "Let's what?!"

"The prefects' bath - we can go for a swim in there, it's big enough for a whole load of people! Man, that sounds good right about now... c'mon, let's go up and get-"

"Rose, I'm not following you into the bath!"

Scoffing loudly, she rolled her eyes at him as she slammed her book shut. "Oh, get over it, will you?"

His eyebrows raised. "This coming from the girl who didn't want to be seen walking into Madam Puddifoot's with her cousin on the off-chance the Daily Prophet might do an article?"

"Yeah, er, well..." Albus was satisfied to see her cheeks flush. "Anyway, who's going to see us? I've got an Invisibility Cloak, remember?"

"And I've got the map," he gusted resignedly. A break was sounding more and more desirable, the manner of leisure notwithstanding. "But... I really don't understand you, this is way more conspicuous than walking into a tea shop together."

The mischievous glint in her blue eyes was all too familiar. "Only if we're seen."

And so it was that Albus found himself under the cloak with Rose on the fifth floor twenty minutes later, the Marauder's Map held in front of his eyes, scanning for possible perils and kicking himself for agreeing to it every step of the way. He felt sure that this was far more likely to result in gossip than having a coffee with Jezabel in Hogsmeade would have done, but once his cousin's mind was made up there was no use in trying to alter its path of destruction. When at last Rose whispered the password ("Decretum") and eased the door open, he could at last breathe a sigh of relief as they threw the cloak aside.

The prefects' bath wasn't so much a tub as a white marble swimming pool - the only difference being there were dozens of taps set all around the edges, each one adorned with a different jewel. A pile of soft white towels sat in the corner, waiting for the bather. There was also a painting of a beautiful mermaid that might spy on you if she were awake and in the mood, so most prefects got used to slipping into the water as quickly as possible.

"You start the taps going, I'll bolt the door and get us towels," said Albus briskly, at which she sniggered.

"Relax, Al, we're not even doing anything wrong. This is our bath to use, isn't it?"

He grunted, kicking off his shoes. "Still feels weird."

It always amazed him how quickly the bath would fill up once you turned a few taps on, even more than it amazed him how many different kinds of suds came forth from each tap. They more or less ignored the bubbles now, focusing instead on pulling off the robes they'd thrown over their swimming costumes and making sure the towels were close enough so they wouldn't slip walking across the marble floor. Albus was rewarded for it all with a hearty laugh.

"You call that a cozzy?! Merlin!"

"Knock it off, will you?" she snapped, blushing furiously enough to match the brick-red stripes among the day-glo yellow ones. Her arms crossed in front of herself in a reflexive attempt to hide as much of the bathing suit as possible. "Mum bought it two years back, I wasn't even there!"

"And what's this knobbly bit here? Honestly, I can't believe you actually kept- OOP!"

He couldn't make fun of her anymore once she'd pushed him in.

After a few minutes, he had to admit the idea was genius. Tension had built up in every single muscle while they toiled over sheaf after sheaf of parchment, and the water seemed to melt it all away, leaving him with a detached sense of well-being. Equally cathartic was Rose being there to get into splash fights with and talk to, and he found himself wishing the whole school could have swimming parties in there now and again to let off steam.

"Bet he does it again this year." Rose spat a jet of water into the air from where she was floating on her back, squinting an eye that had got a soapsud in it. "Nose touching the floor and everything."

"Well, that's their M-O, isn't it? To be all servile and kowtowing. Enslavement of their kind and all that."

"You don't think it's sad?"

Albus sighed. This was far from a new argument. "I do. I flinch every time James sneers at him, or shouts at him. Of course, James doesn't treat anybody particularly well - rotten across the board."

She slipped beneath the surface of the water, bobbing back up and slicking her red (and yellow) hair behind her head. "And that makes it okay?"

"Hey, you think I like living with a git like him? Don't go judging us by his actions! Anyway, I know it's not the same with all wizarding families, but... Dad treats Kreacher okay, and so do I. What else can we do?"

He could tell by the way just one corner of her mouth turned down that she had more to say on the subject, but decided to put it on hold until she could think it through properly. Instead, she paddled over, placed both hands on top of his head and held him under until his lungs burned - he retaliated by swimming to the bottom and pulling her legs out from under her, and in a few moments all thoughts on the rights of non-humans were forgotten.

Nearly two hours had passed by the time the two were picking their way back to Gryffindor Tower beneath the cloak, more or less dry and thoroughly at peace with the world.

"You liar, she does not!"

"I've seen the way she looks at you, mate," Rose whispered, trying not to laugh out loud for fear of Mr Urran lurking behind the next corner. "Every day at practice, and in the corridors. Your list of admirers grows ever longer."

"Yeah, well, I don't like her," he growled harshly. "She's a foul, snotty little wench if you ask me."

He didn't need to see her eyebrows raising to know they were. "We are talking about the same Wendelyne, aren't we? Wendelyne Moore, the blonde-"

"Yeah, yeah, the very same."

"Snotty? Funny, she never struck me that way... of course, she can be unpleasant now and again, but if she'd stop hanging around that vile Brunhil-"

They both stopped dead at the same moment, then spun to face the opposite way; the sound was coming from the corridor below. Taking only the briefest moment to gape at each other, they hurried over to and down the steps to the fourth floor, where they met quite a sight.

Elizabeth Larkins was crawling along the floor, shaking and breathing hard, occasionally whimpering. Albus noticed her schoolbag was dangling half-empty from her shoulder, and that mingled saliva and tears were running down her chin. A suit of armour was on the floor behind her, most likely having been knocked over when she tripped. She seemed wild, unhinged, even dangerous. Taking a step back, he nearly pulled the cloak off Rose before she followed him.

"What- what's wrong with her?" Rose whispered.

"I don't know... has she gone wango dingo on us?"

"Looks that way, but- but why? I never pegged Larkins for-"

"Who's there?"

They slapped their hands over their mouths, but Elizabeth's eyes were already boring right through them and flicking to either side. "P-please, will you leave me alone? Y-you- I didn't- I just want to be left alone, why won't you listen, what've I ever done to you?!" They didn't even have time to exchange a mystified look before she continued her insane rantings. "I'm sorry, I- I've been a bad person, I'll change, I swear, but you- my ankle hurts, and I haven't slept, so can't you find someone else to torture?! I'm j-just a girl, I- I can't handle this!"

Not knowing what else to do, Albus led Rose back to the stairs where they quietly ascended. When they reached the top he whispered, "We should get Professor Longbottom."

"Yeah, but... but somebody needs to watch her. You go on, you're the fastest on foot between us."

"All right. Make sure you stow the cloak, wouldn't want anyone finding out about it."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks for not underestimating my intelligence, Al."

Deciding it best to def her out, he dashed down staircase after staircase, his mind once again sent racing with possibilities. Had Peeves done this? Was it one of their new educators? Or had Elizabeth simply cracked under the pressures of her studies? They were all feeling it; it's why he and Rose were in the corridors to begin with, after all.

When he finally reached the door to Professor Longbottom's chambers, he hesitated for the briefest moment before knocking loudly. Several seconds passed before the door creaked open and the puffy-eyed Head of Gryffindor House yawned his greeting.

"Hmmnh?"

"Professor, there's been a- well, I don't know exactly, but it's Elizabeth, she's acting completely mental!"

All trace of sleepiness was gone at Albus's words; the professor was now standing erect, pulling an old stained robe over his brownish pyjamas and shutting the door behind him. "Where?"

"Up this way, on the fourth floor - Professor, she might've hurt her ankle, too, I'm not sure-"

"Lead the way."

The scene had changed rather a lot when Albus returned to it; Rose was standing nearby while Elizabeth cowered against the wall, utterly distraught and screaming indistinct words of warning at her. By the red scratch on Rose's cheek, Albus guessed she'd tried to help her up.

"Calm down, calm down," Longbottom soothed, walking slowly toward her. "Everything's going to be all right, Miss Larkins. Now... what's happened to you?"

"You're not here, none of you, too much- I don't know which way is up anymore, and it's all... ever since the bathroom, in the bathroom is when it went wonky, and now I just don't know anymore, there's no-"

"Shh." He'd reached her side and held his hands out in front of him slowly. "Look, Elizabeth- no, look here, see? I'm not armed, I'm not going to hurt you. Now, er, how about we go into this empty classroom, here? I believe there's a few chairs in this one. Come on."

It took some doing, but a few minutes later they had Elizabeth settled in a chair in a dusty old room, which the Professor had lit warmly with a flick of his wand.

"How about a spot of tea, then? Might help calm you." When she nodded shakily, he waved his wand again and a piping-hot cup appeared in his hand, which he offered to Elizabeth. She took it, glanced at him suspiciously, then sipped. "There we are. Now, from the top... what's got you so jumpy?"

She took another large gulp of tea. "Well... I'd been studying all night, you know - I'm taking Arithmancy, and it's dreadful stuff." The professor smiled. "Anyway, I- I... d'you promise you won't be angry?"

"Angry?" asked Longbottom, bemused. "Whatever for?"

"Well, because I... went down to the kitchens to nick some biscuits," she blurted, twisting a bit of her lank brown hair around her finger. "I've had a craving all day, and the house-elves are always so generous with- but that's not important. See, I was on my way back from there, and I felt I had to, er, use the little girls' room, so I stopped in..."

Several seconds passed in silence as Elizabeth withdrew into her own mind. Rose coughed and said, "And that's it?"

"No, of course not!" she snapped. "Sorry, but I've had a rough night, you know?"

"Well, er, no, we don't," said Albus truthfully.

"What I think your friends are trying to say," Longbottom cut across them, "is that we're still not sure why you're upset. Please, continue."

"Okay, sure. So I had just washed my hands and was about to go back to the books when... when she started in on me."

All three of them said as one, "Who?"

"Moaning Myrtle." And the tears welled in her eyes so fast Albus was sure they'd sprung a leak. "It was like she'd been waiting to get me alone for ages, and now she had me she... oh, the things she said, such mean, awful, nasty things, about me, about m-my family! I- I wanted to leave, but she'd say something else that would- would catch m-me off guard, and everything was so personal, and vile, and it was s-s-so horrible!"

"There, there," Professor Longbottom whispered, pulling her into a warm, comforting hug and frowning at Albus and Rose over her shoulder as if to say, 'I'm completely bewildered and have no idea what else to do but this - how about you two?' When they both shrugged, he returned his attentions to the sobbing girl who had dropped her teacup to the floor, where it shattered. "I'm sure it was all rubbish - you're an exceptional student, and a fine young woman. As for your family, your mother was in my year at school, and you couldn't hope to meet a nicer person!"

Even as Elizabeth pulled back and turned a bleary smile up at him, Albus and Rose exchanged that mystified look at last. Regardless of what had actually caused the normally-mopey ghost to behave so viciously, it seemed there had been one more spirit-related disaster at Hogwarts this year.

END Chapter Fourteen