Chimaera of Judgement



CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: Breakdowns

In days of yesteryear (literally meaning the year previous), Albus Potter would have been thrilled at the scene laid out so beautifully before him. Here was the boy who took every available opening for a snide comment, every opportunity to tear Albus down and make him feel small, trapped and entirely helpless. Despite his worry for Ryan Macmillan's safety, a momentary thrill of glee ran down his spine, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Well, well, well," he began. "This is a very interesting situation."

"How the hell did you end up in there?" Rose laughed.

The suit of armour continued to shudder violently as Albus, Rose and Lily gawped at the visor, both amused and intrigued. Ryan's eyes narrowed. "Nhmmvrmhnnd thhd! Zhzzt ghhd mh hhhnt!"

"How?" Albus tried prising the helmet loose, but it was stuck tight. "This isn't working, here!"

"Hngh whnnght phnt hrrh bhh-"

"Oh, shut up, will you?" said Rose, now wiggling a knee joint with no success. "It's not like we have the foggiest what you're saying behind that thing, and you're only distracting our thoughts."

"Though I'm all for pouring some bubotuber pus down the back and leaving him to it," Albus chuckled. Ryan's glare had doom written all over it.

"Wait," Lily whispered. "Let's see, how did that one go? Oh, I only just read it a few weeks ago, it's such a simple incantation, but..."

"We could go get Urran," Rose said without real conviction. "We'd have a spiffing time explaining the situation, though."

"That's it - I remember, hang on!" Swishing her wand, Albus's sister cried out, "Expelloricatus!"

Metal flew in all directions, bouncing off the children's legs and arms, which they had used to shield themselves the moment they'd realised what was going to happen. Albus dreaded the nasty bruises he'd surely be feeling in the morning.

"Oh, thank Merlin you found me!" Ryan gasped, falling to his hands and knees. "It must have been hours, thought I'd be in there for days before-"

"Now that we've freed you from your Sunday best," Rose interrupted, "d'you mind explaining how you jumped in there from no visible entry point and couldn't get back out?"

"Well, I don't know," he muttered, rubbing his stiff neck as Lily helped him to his feet. "The last thing I recall is someone whispering 'Stupefy', though, so that might be why I'm drawing a blank."

Albus was thinking hard. "Where were you?"

"The fifth floor." When Albus swore loudly, he asked, "What, is that the wrong answer?"

Without realising it, Albus began pacing up and down the hallway, poking at his chin with his wand. "If you'd been in the common room, or better yet your dormitory, we could safely say another Gryffindor had done this. Even if you were on the West side of the seventh floor, it would nominate a Ravenclaw, which might help, but..."

"But the fifth floor is pretty common territory," Rose finished hopelessly.

"Do you reckon it's the same person?" Ryan asked keenly. "You know, that's jerking around the school ghosts?"

"Could be... could be another prank." Albus sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "There's an awful lot of pranking going around these days."

"Maybe the banshee-"

"It was Jezabel Skirrow all along," he informed him anticlimactically. When all he got by way of a response was Ryan's dumbfounded stare, Albus nodded. "Yep. There never was a banshee at all, she was just out for some fresh air."

"Whaaat?!" Ryan blinked, his head shaking slightly. "In the Forbidden Forest? Didn't think it was especially fresh in there, myself."

"Who cares about the quality of air in the Forest right now?" said Rose. "We've got another ghost attack on our hands, and it can't be the banshee if there isn't one, so-"

"Professor Longbottom."

The other three turned toward Lily. "What?" Albus asked her, not believing his ears - how could she accuse their Head of House?

"You have to go to Professor Longbottom! This is another attack, right? The teachers should know what's going on, shouldn't they?"

Even as Ryan began nodding, coming around to her opinion, Albus and Rose exchanged skeptical glances. Neville Longbottom was a dear friend of the family, loyal Gryffindor, learned Herbology teacher and stand-up bloke, but none of the staff had proven remotely useful in putting a stop to the attacks within their school. Albus knew by the reflection on Rose's features that she agreed; Professor Longbottom might be glad of their information, but what use could he make of it?

"Let's go!" Lily cried, actually tugging at Rose's sleeve.

"Oh, all right," Albus sighed. "Probably won't do us any good, but we can try him."

Together, the four Gryffindors tromped down the stairs and directly to Professor Longbottom's doors, Rose taking charge and knocking loudly. "Professor!"

"Yes, what is it?" he answered, blinking bemusedly down at the group gathered at his doorstep.

"There's been another, er... happening," said Albus.

"What?!" He looked over their shoulders, drawing his wand, jaw set. "Show me."

"Well... we've already sorted it."

That made him blink. "Eh?"

By the time they had finished with their story, the trio of fifth-years and solitary third-year were seated around the professor's desk in chairs he had produced from his wandtip. Longbottom poured them each a steaming cup of tea just as Ryan was describing the attack.

"A Stunner?" he asked, replacing the pot on its tray. "Hmm, that is unusual. I shouldn't think many of our younger students know that spell, and one would hope the older students wouldn't resort to such tactics for the sake of a joke."

"Professor, are you saying it could be... an adult?" Albus said carefully.

"Oh," Longbottom breathed, horrified. "Hadn't featured that - think I liked it better when a student was hexing another student." Recovering quickly, he glared down at him sternly. "That's not to say I suspect any of our staff members, and neither should you, Mr Potter. Both the Headmistress and the Board of Governors interview all new and old hires rigorously at the start of every year."

"It could still be Peeves," he continued hurriedly. "Or one of the Slytherins, or-" But for some reason, he hesitated. Implicating Dorika Dunsmore had seemed like an easy thing to do in front of his classmates, his peers - but tattling on her to an authority figure, especially if she were innocent...

"Yes?"

"Or I don't know," he finished lamely. "Sorry, I just feel so useless."

Longbottom sighed, leaning back in his chair with his teacup. "I've been feeling that way ever since Mr Logan happened to stand under a falling chandelier, Albus. Doesn't mean we won't reach the bottom of this eventually. But unfortunately, there's something I must ask you now I've got you here."

"What's that, sir?" Rose asked.

But before he spoke again, he pointed his wand at the door, which flew open. "Ms Potter, Mr Macmillan, if you would..." When they had left, shooting questioning looks at everyone as they went, he leaned forward again, eyes piercing both Rose and Albus in turn. "Do either of you know more than you're letting on about these attacks?"

Albus couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What?"

"Do either of you know anything else? Anything at all?"

"Excuse me, sir," said Rose, the "sir" not quite as respectful as it had been a moment ago. "Are you trying to say we might be behind this?"

"The other staff members certainly think so," he gusted, relaxing slightly. "The pair of you have a pretty shoddy track record with Mr Macmillan, and Mr Logan, for that matter. Loathe though I am to admit this, but I've even entertained the notion a time or two, myself."

"I- I-" Albus could scarcely form words - had their Head of House truly lost faith in them?

"Elizabeth Larkins has got on your bad sides before," Longbottom continued determinedly. "I seem to remember a redheaded second-year sending her to the hospital wing with corn stalks shooting out of her ears - or am I thinking of another Rose Weasley?"

Rose's own ears glowed presently. "But that was ages ag-"

"Much though students think we teachers don't pay attention to idle gossip, we do. Belvina Hitchens has lost Hufflepuff several points from her run-ins with our fifth-year prefects, hasn't she?"

"That's- nobody- she's such a horrid-"

"Al docked them for good reason, she had no respect for-"

"I'm not saying I believe you did it," he said over them, his scar-ridden brow creased as if this conversation were causing him physical pain. "This is circumstantial evidence that proves you have some bit of motive, nothing more. If you are responsible for the attacks, then this is me asking you to come forward and take your punishments like Gryffindors - please! If you didn't... now maybe you see how misguided your own conclusions could be. Just a thought."

When they regained the common room, shaken to their core, Albus suddenly became horribly aware of the skeptical looks he and Rose were receiving from Lily and Ryan. It didn't take them long to cross the room and demand to know what they had discussed with the professor.

"None of your beeswax," said Rose immediately. "Might be why he asked you to leave, y'know."

"Come off it, teachers are always asking us to do pointless things," Ryan snapped. "Just a clue, is it-"

"No," said Albus. "We can't, I'm sorry - and don't bother pestering us further, it won't do you any good."

"Fine!" Lily burst out, stomping off and up the stairs to her chambers, muttering under her breath. Ryan shifted uneasily for a second, then made for the portrait hole.

"Not winning any popularity points, there," said Rose, her tone as hollow as Albus felt.

o o o

"Why so glum, there? Runnin' out o' wood lice?"

Albus and Rose started, letting their attentions wander from the bowtruckle they were supposed to be feeding. "Huh?" they said in unison.

"Yeh act like yeh've seen a Grim," Hagrid chuckled, fists on his hips as he surveyed their dreary faces. "Tell yeh wha' - come by me cabin after lessons an' we'll have a cuppa, eh?"

Nodding distractedly, they went back to work, pretending not to feel the lice Malfoy, Malkin and Goyle were flicking at them.

It had been less than a week since Ryan found himself encased in tempered steel and neither of them could think of much else. This was the first of many things they told Hagrid later that afternoon, and Hagrid mostly sat nodding, though now and again he'd offer them rock cakes, which they Transfigured into Eccles when he was busy tending the fire. Rose pulled a face, as one of hers had somehow taken on the unique filling of currants, créme de menthe and salmon.

"Yep, it's got everybody righ' stumped," he sighed, bustling over his supper (it smelled like it had once been alive, but they were both too afraid to ask for further details). "The ghosts have never acted this way - not in all the years I been here, leastways. Can't say as I peg any o' the staff as a suspect, though, they ain't been nothin' but bang up teachers."

"But Peele was talking to Dryden about a chimaera in the pub-"

"Tha' coulda been anythin'," he said, waving the idea aside with an enormous hand as he rejoined them at the table. "Yeh shouldn'a been earwiggin' in the firs' place, but I remember yer parents well enough not ter be surprised. Anyway, nothin' fer it but ter hope they knows what they're doin', eh? Yeh got hardly any proof ter work with, no clues that'll lead yeh ter another clue an' suchforth - don' worry yer heads."

Rose sighed, losing patience with his Hogwarts-approved attitude. "There has to be something we-"

"Not a ruddy thing. Meanwhile... what's this I hears abou' Albus winchin' one o' his feller teammates, eh? Sounds ter me like yeh got enough on yer plate withou' doin' the teachers' jobs fer 'em, too!"

"Yeah, about that," said Rose, perking up as Albus wilted, "what do you think? Should he let Kayla and Tanith down easy, then ask Wendelyne out, or get her sorted first so he has a viable excuse for Kayl-"

"Whoa, hold on, now!" Hagrid guffawed, giving Albus a hearty punch on the shoulder that sent him reeling backward to land on a surprised Tusky. "Where's all this abou' Kayla an' Tanith comin' from?!"

By the time Hagrid shooed them out so he could go up and visit his half-brother's cave, the sun was lower in the sky, supper was probably being served in the Great Hall, and Albus wondered if he'd ever be able to face other human beings without expiring.

"Stop acting like a prawn," she chided him. "Maybe Hagrid's no Romeo, but I thought a fresh perspective-"

"You thought wrong, then. That was so weird, talking to Hagrid about girls and- and- yeeks, makes my neck prickle."

"'Yeeks'? Is that even a word?"

Albus did not respond. To be honest, he wouldn't have bothered, even if Jezabel hadn't been making her way across the lawns just ahead of them, her matted waves trailing behind on the waning Winter air.

"Let's see if we can catch up with her," he whispered.

"No thanks; I'm starved, that fishy Eccles was gone ages ago."

"Well, I'm going to talk to her if you won't."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. You will let me know if you learn anything print-worthy?"

His eye twitched; must she be so difficult? "I might."

And with that, she lengthened her considerably-long strides and passed Jezabel, waving warmly at her as she went. Jezabel smiled briefly before returning to her somber plod, staring at the ground and clutching at her patched, fraying cloak.

"How about some company?" he asked; she leaped nearly ten feet, rounding on him.

"Albus Pot- Pot-"

"Potter," he finished. "Though you don't have to keep saying all of it, y'know; Albus or Al works."

"Sorry, Albus," she breathed, thumb rubbing the crook of her elbow as she steadied her breathing. "I- I was down by the vegetable patches, I- not doing much today, there's no-"

"I'm not accusing you of anything," he said wearily. "You don't have to defend yourself from me. Just wondering how you're keeping."

She seemed to relax, if only the tiniest bit. "All right. No one's attacked me lately, if that's how you mean."

"It wasn't, but... I'm glad."

When they passed through the front doors, she did not turn into the Great Hall for supper, but instead continued up the marble staircase without hesitation.

"Don't you want something to eat?"

"No," she answered, stifling a yawn. "I'm too exhausted to be hungry; I didn't rest well last night because Jocasta O'Quin kept yelping in her sleep. Between the spattergroit and those rashes, something may have traumatised her." Then she turned to face him, talking hurriedly. "Of course, you must be hungry, you should go back down, wouldn't want to be keeping you, it's suppertime and everyone should be there alread-"

"I'm not hungry, either," he assured her, ignoring the angry growl from the pit of his stomach. "Lead on."

Laughing shakily, she lapsed into silence. As they reached the second floor, she said, "It's... good you've found someone."

"What?"

"Wendelyne Moore." Her hands fiddled with the tarnished silver clasps of her cloak. "If it isn't true, I apologise, wouldn't want to slander, but... the rumours are hard to shut out entirely."

"Eh," he sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "We went on a date, that's all. I don't think she likes me, or thinks I don't like her, or... whatever. Got me totally baffled, this one does - not even sure I fancy her myself."

"Oh." To his disappointment, there was little to glean from her tone of voice when she uttered this simple response, so he cast around for something to talk about.

"What were you doing down in the vegetables?" He cringed inwardly. "Sorry, that could have used a sprinkle of tact - you don't have to answer that, none of my business."

A quiet snicker; at least she didn't hold it against him. "No, no, it's... nothing, really. Just looking around, stretching my legs. My homework's all finished, I've read through all the books I got for Christmas thrice, and-" But she fell silent, lips pursing nervously.

"And...?"

"Well... I was in my bunk, but it's so new, and... I don't rest well there. I miss the tomb, I haven't been there since..."

A ripple of guilt and nausea ran through his stomach at the mention of his namesake's resting place, but he beat it back. "You could, you know; I haven't had the place renovated and turned into a discotheque."

"A discowhat?"

He sighed, smiling. "Nothing, nothing. Why don't you go there anymore? Rose is the only other person who knows about it, and she wouldn't bother you, I promise."

"It won't be the same." She stopped dead, thin hand at her mouth. "You mustn't feel it's your fault! P-please, if you do, don't, because you were trying to protect the school, it's only natural; I would have done the same. But I... I don't have as easy access anymore now I'm in G-Gryffindor, and that doesn't help much. Yes, all about convenience."

"Mmm." But he found his brow furrowing. "Wait - what? Why would being in Gryffindor stop you going?"

"Oh, well... there's a..." After a brief pause, she motioned for him to follow her behind a tapestry. Utterly vexed, he did so, glancing up and down the corridor first.

"What's up?"

"There's a hidden passageway," she whispered, overgrown fringe obscuring her dark eyes in the even darker niche they were hiding in. "Beyond old Dungeon Eight; you tap a torch bracket on the wall with your wand and the wall vanishes. It takes you out into the Forest. I... I've never told anyone about it, I might have been punished for using it."

"I wouldn't let go of a secret like that, either," he whispered back with a grin. "Sounds like it was useful, to say the least."

She smiled up at him, apparently pleased that he wasn't going to run straight to Mr Urran and tell him to seal it off or give her forty lashes. "Yes, you - it was always there to help me get away from the others when they were in especially nasty moods, or when I wanted some peace. But it's so far away, now, and... there aren't any passageways out there from the tower. I only... I wish there was someplace."

"Jezabel, I'm sorry for messing it all up for you," he said bitterly. "I thought telling the teachers was the right thing, because I wanted the other students to leave off abusing you, but they still pick on you and now you don't even have your sanctuary by the lake. Why didn't I think, or ask?"

"Don't," she whispered imploringly. "A-Albus, you can't think I blame you, not for trying to help! This never- nobody's-"

With no forewarning, large glistening tears began to roll down her cheeks. Instinctively, he stretched out a hand, but she backed into the wall and slid down to the floor, shocked and terrified at what was happening.

"Hey, come on, I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know that," she sobbed, arms squeezing her body tightly. "But you- that's not the- you're so kind, and- you shouldn't have to see this."

A mad desire to laugh possessed him, but again, he fought it down. "No, I really shouldn't; you shouldn't have to be sad or upset at all, you ought to be happy here at Hogwarts, oughtn't you? If you can't feel safe here, then where?" His resolve strengthened considerably as he pictured her in the middle of the snowy lawns, stripped of both clothing and dignity. "But they've made you feel as if this gift isn't yours, like you have to earn it or give it back, or something. I don't understand them, why are they such gits?!"

Albus's anger abated slightly, and in time to see her glance at the tapestry as if she wanted to escape but was unwilling to try when she was so visibly distraught. He pressed this slight advantage, crouching to put himself back at eye-level. "Jezabel, I... I want you to know I'm here, okay? You're avoiding everybody, and it's not like you've any reason not to, but I..." How to put this? "I'll be around if you need an ear."

Her words were so quiet and grief-racked he only made out something about "trouble you". He reached for her again, and though she recoiled as she had done before, the instant his hand touched her upper arm she became still.

"I am not going to hurt you," he repeated, never more serious about anything in his life. "And I can't even fathom wanting to. I mean it."

"They can't catch me like this," she wailed desperately. "It would only d-draw their fire, they- I shouldn't be crying, don't know why- but I can't stop, why can't I stop?"

"You shouldn't have to stop!"

"Yes, I should, and I do!" Jezabel was as close as she came to being angry now; whether at herself, him, or others, Albus couldn't be sure. "These aren't the manageable tears that leak when they rip my books in half, or stick me to the ceiling, or flush my pet toad out into the lake! That's pain I can- I- they're going to keep coming, I can feel them, why can't they just go away?!"

"Maybe they know they have to come out sooner or later," he said shakily as he began to feel extremely out of place, as if he were crashing an important ceremony to which he had not been invited. "Or it's been too long since you've done it properly. Either way, I reckon it's safer to get them all out at once, don't you?"

To his complete astonishment and shock, he found her arms were suddenly squeezing his midsection, face buried in his cloak as she shuddered, moaning in anguish. How long had it been since she truly released like this? His hand came to rest on a bony shoulderblade, unsure of any other recommended act when someone is crying into your lap, and he marvelled at how she could manage to function while so underfed. Empathy flared up in him yet again, and he had a feeling it would continue to do so until something was done to permanently better her situation.

It took him quite a while to decide this was actually happening, and therefore it felt sudden when Jezabel pulled away, making frantic swipes at her doe-eyes. "I- I'm s-sorry about your cloak," she whispered wetly. "You should have it laundered st-straight away."

"Eh...?"

"See you, Albus." He had actually been expecting it this time, yet was powerless to stop her when she leapt up and fled from the tiny alcove, leaving the tapestry to whip back and slap his arm. Only once her footfalls had receded did he notice the damp spot where her eyes had rested.

"Salt water doesn't even stain, does it?" he breathed absentmindedly, tracing a finger along the edge of the spot. "Being silly over nothing."

END Chapter Twenty-Five