Chimaera of Judgement

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: A Disenchanting Afternoon

Needless to say, Professor Binns was put on suspension following his atypical teaching methods that afternoon. The spirit protested most vigorously, claiming he had nothing to do with any such attack and that he wouldn't know what to do with himself if not for teaching his class, but the rest of the staff insisted they must make a full investigation into this incident or else he'd never be allowed back. This seemed to mostly quash his misgivings.

A storm of speculation as to who they might bring in to temporarily take his classes began brewing, but the question was answered almost immediately; Barty's mother had just been wrapping up her regime at Hogwarts due to Flitwick's return to his own subject, and as she was qualified enough to read the same bland lectures Binns always did, they offered her the post at once and she gladly accepted.

"Yes, Mother is quite the jack-of-all-trades," Barty was to be heard saying pompously to all who asked him about this. "Ravenclaw in her years at Hogwarts, very sharp mind. Of course, her research for Madam Goshawk is exceedingly important, but Mother felt she could not deny her duty to give back to her alma mater."

"You'd think they gave him the job," Rose muttered behind his back.

The passing fear the student body had been showing the Hogwarts ghosts before redoubled as February settled over them, and the ghosts themselves seemed distinctly put out over the matter. The Bloody Baron, on the other hand, began taking full advantage by swooping down upon students, murderous eyes gleaming with amusement as they scattered. A few stern admonitions from Headmistress Sprout and Nearly Headless Nick brought an end to this, though he continued to leer menacingly at first-years when they passed him.

Among the relationships that continued to stymy Albus Potter, he found the ones with Ryan Macmillan and Jezabel Skirrow to be first in the queue. Ever since she thwarted spattergroit, Jezabel, despite showing every sign of being pleased to see Albus when they passed each other between periods or in the library, kept her distance from him for the most part, and nothing he did seemed to make her want to open up more. Ryan, conversely, began to hang around him everywhere, making up excuses to goad and pester him, or at the very least annoy with his mere presence. Albus thought he might do just about anything to switch these two behavioural patterns, but could find no spell in any of his books to help him pull off such a miracle.

In light of this newfound atmosphere of weirdness between Housemates and ill-disguised panic over the ghosts, Albus had never looked more forward to a Hogsmeade weekend before, and when the date was finally upon them he became almost obscenely excited. Much to his dismay, however, he had to endure a rather unpleasant encounter the night previous that threatened to drain all fun from the holiday.

"Oi, Albus!"

Aching all over, he turned and leaned heavily on his father's broomstick, hoping Olivia wasn't going to tell him they were going back up into the air for another three hours. "Wh... what?"

"I've got something to ask you," Wendelyne Moore panted as she wiped the chilling sweat from her brow, resting her own Nimbus on her shoulder.

He watched his breath form clouds on the cold, dark air. "Yeah?"

"Well... see, we've got a Hogsmeade trip tomorrow."

"We do at that."

"So... I guess I wanted to ask you if you'd join me."

Suddenly, he found himself short of breath for a new reason. "Join you?"

"Yeah." In a similar fashion, he had a hunch her cheeks weren't rosy from the cold. "I mean, Saint Valentine's is coming up, so... I've been wanting to ask you for a while, actually, and now seems like as good a time as any."

"Oh, er..." Everything in the logical part of his brain told him to say "no". Though Wendelyne wasn't at all bad-looking, and she had a wicked sense of humour that would crop up unexpectedly at just the right times, he didn't necessarily get along with her well enough to make this sound like a sane idea. There was also the fact that she was of the mind that Jezabel was pond scum, and every time he thought about this he wanted to wipe the snarky grin off her face. Still, he couldn't deny it might be fun to have a date for once, and if he worked around to it in precisely the right way, he might be able to further investigate why so many of his classmates automatically disliked Jezabel the way they did.

"I haven't all day, Potter. How about it?"

"Er... yeah, okay, sure."

"Great." It was somehow adorable the way she tried to keep her face from lighting up, and Albus instantly regretted agreeing to this for his unscrupulous reasons. "Meet you by the front gates, okay?"

"All right. Later."

As he watched her march quickly from the pitch, a voice said quietly in his ear, "That looked like a cozy conversation."

"Aagh!" Whirling, he gusted noisily. "Rose, you blithering- could give a bloke a heart attack that way!"

"So," she continued, mischievous eyes darting between him and Wendelyne's receding form, "what did Moore want? A private, one-to-one training session?"

He sighed, knowing she would never let this drop one way or the other. "Yeah. To take place tomorrow in Hogsmeade, if you have to get all your news before it's printed."

"Oooh, I knew it!" she cackled, hooking her elbow around his neck and rubbing his head roughly. "My little Albie's got himself a genuine rendezvous!"

"Gerroff, you twit!"

o o o

As Rose trailed along after him the next morning, making puckering noises and asking revolting questions he refused to answer, Albus began to think the wiser course would have been to have kept it to himself. Then, out of nowhere, a legitimate query slipped through the embarrassing ones.

"Wait a second," she said slowly as they descended the steps into the Entrance Hall. "I thought you didn't like her."

"What's that?"

"Wendelyne. You said you thought she was a snippy cow or something like that."

"Oh yeah. Well, that's because she doesn't care for Jezabel. Remember that name she called her on the Express?"

"No," she said, her forehead wrinkling with the effort of delving into those long-lost memories. "Sorry, what was it?"

"Nevermind," he said quickly as they reached the oaken doors. "It's better I not think about that just now, I'd rather concentrate on not tripping over my own feet."

"Good luck, loverboy," Rose chided, folding her arms against the chilly fog hovering over the grounds. "I'm sure you'll need it."

"Why do you keep saying things like that as if you've gone on so many more dates than I have?" As he'd been praying, that most assuredly wiped the smirk off his cousin's lips. "See you around!"

Albus vaguely hoped she'd have somehow caught a whiff of leftover spattergroit fungus as he approached the iron gates, but no such luck; Wendelyne was waiting exactly where she'd said, a few feet away from where Mr Urran was checking the students against his master list. His stomach slipped downward a few more notches when he noticed she was wearing a new, rather well-fitting burgundy jumper with corduroy trousers under her cloak, and her flaxen hair was impeccably groomed and sleek for once, rather than resembling a bird's nest. The most he'd done to prepare for this rite of passage was to spend a few extra minutes with his comb, and he instantly felt underdressed in his Weasley jumper and faded denim.

'At least I'm not wearing that horrid rosebud cap,' he thought glumly.

"Over here, Albus!" she called unnecessarily, as he was heading in exactly her direction. Glancing around at the nearby queue, it seemed to him that Wendelyne had done this more for the benefit of the others waiting to leave, and he was mortified to see Tanith Moon and Kayla Sylvanus shooting her some of the dirtiest looks he'd ever seen. This was compounded when he caught the look on Lily's face, standing directly behind them yet trying to act as if they - and he - didn't exist.

"Hi," he said simply as he stopped in front of her. "What's up?"

"You are, finally," she said with a wry grin. "Like to keep girls waiting, do we?"

"Oh, stop it," he laughed nervously, privately wondering whether or not that sort of thing was recommended. "Er, anyway... ready to go?"

"Of course."

They walked in a certain kind of strained silence nearly all the way into Hogsmeade, mostly looking at each other and quickly turning away, feeling increasingly ridiculous. Finally, when he couldn't stand it any longer, Albus said, "All right, then... where to first?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but... I've never been up to the Shrieking Shack."

"Really, you haven't?"

She smiled shyly, and Albus found he did not altogether dislike this look on her. "Nope - I mean, I've sort of wanted to, but I can never quite find my backbone..."

"Sounds like a plan, then."

As they approached the rotting, imposing old building on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the guilt he'd felt right after she'd asked him out began to mount. He knew with near certainty that the last thing she wanted to hear during their day in the village would be that he'd only agreed to come so he could milk information out of her. Therefore, he decided they might as well enjoy the day.

"Wow, it's so... run-down."

"Yeah." Inwardly, Albus felt strange about this because he knew the full story behind it. Did he dare tell her? Would she be more excited by the unknown aspect it held, or by the twisted, bizarre true story of his own family members? Then he realised he was actually thinking about ways to impress her, and the meaning of this being a date seemed to crash down upon his head with renewed force.

"They say it's haunted by the most murderous ghouls and ghosts," she said quietly, a scheming look in her eyes. "That some nights, they hear mysterious screams coming from inside."

"Like we haven't had enough scares from our own deceased population lately," Albus laughed.

"You've a point, there." Sighing, she leaned against the fence surrounding the premises. "Would be wicked to have a look inside, though."

"Suppose so."

"Want to check it out?"

"What?!" He glanced up and down the street. "But- what are you talking about?"

"Come on," she laughed, grasping his arm and pulling him toward the locked gate. "Let's just try and get in, can't hurt!"

"What if it does? I mean, the sign says 'KEEP OUT', if anybody catches us-"

She rolled her bright hazel eyes at him. "Are you a man or not? That's what makes it fun! Come on, just for a bit!"

"W-ell..."

The whole thing seemed rather pointlessly reckless to Albus, especially because he knew there wasn't so much as a single spook within its walls, yet they combed nearly every inch of the Shrieking Shack's exterior, prying at boards and tapping their wands on the doors to no avail. Albus was forcibly reminded of the thousands of times he and Rose had sought out the unknowns of Grimmauld Place, and almost began to wish he were doing that, instead - at least it was indoors.

"So," Albus asked her as they tried to uproot a rather gnarled bush, "I don't want to look a gift-Moore in the mouth, but... why'd you ask me out?"

"Come again?" she said, wiping snow from her eyes where the branches had dropped it on her.

"I just mean, well... why me? I know Martin Finnigan's after your affections, for one."

"Oh, really?" she chortled. "I hadn't noticed, even though he practically proposed to me during our last Quidditch game."

Albus laughed as well. "Right, well, there's got to be a dozen other guys who're better catches, and I bet they'd all say 'yes'."

He hadn't meant this to be quite as heavy-handed a compliment as it was, and the precise shade of scarlet she turned threatened to spread to his own features. "What can I say? Ever since you stood up for that weird girl on the Express, I... er, I began to notice what a decent guy you are."

It was right around that point that their casual date became all too complicated for Albus's head. While he felt flattered to the point of giggling stupidly, he also couldn't ignore the fact that she'd just called Jezabel "that weird girl", which said her attitude toward the newest Gryffindor hadn't changed in the slightest. At the same time, here was Wendelyne bearing her feelings in front of God and everyone, and he was preoccupied with someone else - though that was complicated in and of itself. For the first time in a long while, he asked himself why he actually did care so much about Jezabel Skirrow - what had she really done for him?

That selfish thought snapped him out of it; it didn't matter what she had or hadn't done for him. She had been painfully polite to everyone who spoke to her, even people who wished her harm, and all they did was take more shots at her. Her greatest desire was to not be persecuted, and the wizarding world not only couldn't grant her that one, simple wish, but made it its business to ensure it didn't come true.

Though he knew what he had to do, gazing down into Wendelyne's normally-confident features that at the moment looked so fragile did nothing to steel his resolve. He found it difficult to swallow. "Erm, about that day... Wendelyne, why did you say what you said?"

She seemed utterly confused, as he thought she might be. "What I... what did I say?"

"About Jezabel... twice now, I heard you say that it's just like her to do strange or bad things. Well... why is it like her to do that?"

Actually, she hadn't looked confused at all before compared to her current expression. "I don't- why does she do bad things? I don't know, why don't you ask her?"

"No, not why does she- I mean, has she ever done anything? Stolen things, or hurt people? Anything specific you remember?"

"I don't know," she repeated dismissively. "People talk, but... anyway, what's this have to do with today?"

"Wendelyne," he gusted, sitting down on the Shack's front steps heavily, "I've been noticing this horrible... I don't know, pattern lately. With Jezabel. I mean, me and Rose are the only ones who seem to notice it, but... it's as if nobody really cares that she's alive. Like she's some dirty great house-elf who should either obey or be destroyed, and she doesn't have any feelings or anything."

"But... but she's a Slytherin," she said, as if this settled the matter. "Or she was, anyway. Merlin, everybody's so confused how that messy freak got moved into Gryffindor - I mean, what on earth do you have to do to change Houses? It has to be a first, it's-"

"Careful what you say about her," he said flatly.

"Why?" A moment passed, and he didn't answer; finally, she said, "You know, I heard somebody say they'd seen you talking to her before... have you been?"

He stared into snow around his trainers. "Once or twice."

"Whoa... so, what's she like?"

"Nice, in fact. Not at all 'scurvy'."

The word triggered in Wendelyne the same awful memory it did for Albus, and she began to look crestfallen. "Oh. And I-"

"You did."

Albus didn't want to see her anymore at that moment, much less see her upset. Somehow, he'd thought this part would be the easiest, when he'd effectively ended their afternoon together by telling her off for being mean to Jezabel, but he had been dead wrong; he'd rather stab himself in the foot than continue pressing the point.

"B-but- but she'd stolen-"

"She hadn't, either, and I think you knew it." He tried to keep the anger out of his expression, not wanting to rub any more salt in the wound than was absolutely necessary. "That girl would never hurt so much as a fly, and all she really wants is to be left alone. But people keep picking on her because it's easy. I mean, maybe she's not very personable, but... that's no excuse to use her for target practise."

The lump in her throat held a defiant tone. "You're telling me this like- like I was roughing her up all the time, like I'm some sort of c-creep who picks on innocent people for laughs."

"No, you're a normal witch who's doing it because everybody else is. Don't you see? The worst part of all is that... it's not really your fault." He now turned to stare directly into her shimmering eyes. "But that doesn't mean you're blameless if you don't stop. So, please... just..."

"Stop," she echoed, nodding vaguely. "Guess I'll have to, knowing you'll be looking out for her."

"Why don't people like her?" he mused aloud. "What is it that makes them want to hurt her without provocation? Is it the hygene issue, is that the whole reason?"

"No," Wendelyne spoke up, wiping her eyes and attempting to regain some semblance of dignity. "Hate me though you must for saying so, that girl really could do with a long bath, but... she also just acts strange. Like she's from another planet and in constant communication, y'know? She's the very picture of stand-offish."

"Wendelyne, I'm sorry," he said in a rush, realising all too late that he didn't mean to be saying this. "You asked me out, and I didn't like the way you treat people, but I said 'yes' to find out more about why you do that. That was an awful thing to do, I'm sorry, it... I feel like such a manipulator, like I used our date to dig for dirt. All this stuff with Jezabel, and the ghosts, and... It's not that I don't like you, I do-"

"Please, don't." She was bravely trying to laugh it off, which was almost yet more sad than when she was crying. "Didn't really think this would end well, but couldn't hurt to give it a go, right? Sorry if I wasted your Saturday, Albus."

"N-no, wait, don't run off like-"

But Wendelyne wasn't listening anymore; she was already swinging the gate open and heading off into the village.

"One of these days, I'm going to figure out how to actually get along with women," he told the dead bush that was now his only companion. "Y'know, so they don't end up hating me as they run away. Yeah, that'll be great."

o o o

"You are, without a doubt, the world's biggest idiot, Al."

"Thank you for your kind assessment, Rose."

She chuckled, raising the tankard to her mouth and taking a long draught before saying, "At least you're not so thick you're trying to disagree."

"No, no, I know I botched the whole thing." Sighing, Albus looked around at all the other perfectly happy couples in the Three Broomsticks, holding hands and gazing at each other longingly. "A date is not the time to start discussing some other girl, no matter the reason. Lesson learned."

"About that, mate..." It took very minimal effort for him to pick up on the fact that she'd been wanting to drop whatever bomb she was now loading up for quite some time. "Don't you think, maybe, you're getting just a tad too preoccupied with Jezzy's plight?"

"Well, let me put it this way... yes. Yes, I am."

Rose blinked, surprised at the quickness with which he answered. "Oh."

"No, I understand, Rose; I mean, I still want to help her out, but I need to stop making it my personal mission, I'd wager. Shouldn't have let this happen."

After a moment's strained silence, Rose said, "Eh, Wendelyne'll be fine, I expect. She's a lot tougher than she- well, actually she looks fairly tough, as well."

"So you're saying that if I'd done this to someone like Dorika Dunsmore, I'd have earned the right to be crucified upside-down for my crimes?"

"Possibly. I mean, Dorika's got the emotional fortitude of a wet paper serviette."

"Too true. Seriously, though, when you're trying so hard to help one person that you start hurting others, it's time to back off a bit."

"Yeah. And speaking of hurting others..." A quick scan up and down the pub. "Any new thoughts on our transparent friends?"

"Well..." He'd been specifically wishing she wouldn't ask this question, as the last thought to come to him on the subject was perhaps the most dubious yet, but now he couldn't avoid the topic any longer. "Actually, it's funny you should mention Dorika, because - what if she's our villain?"

Rose stared at him for nearly a full minute before saying, "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, Belvina has always been horrible toward Dorika," he continued, squirming. "Every time we see them together, Belvina's screaming, and Dorika's moping, or else turning on the waterworks. If anybody has a reason to get revenge-"

"But- Merlin, Al, we're talking about Darling Dewy Dunsmore, the sugar queen! Do you really believe she'd be capable of that kind of evil?"

"Hey, look at my angelic sister; there are scars on my back from the time she hit me with that wonky hex, and she still won't tell me what it was."

Her rolling eyes said she was scarcely tolerating this line of thought. "All right, so we can't judge on appearances, but that's only- why'd she attack Larkins, then? What's she ever done to Dorika to earn her wrath?"

"That's true... hmm, hadn't thought of that. Guess we'll have to ask her."

END Chapter Twenty-Two