Chimaera of Judgement



CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: Concealment

As Albus had predicted, by Monday morning the tantalising news that Jezabel Skirrow had been re-Sorted had leaked out everywhere like water from a rat's favourite hosepipe. Fact-checking at the hands of some fastidious Ravenclaws brought to light that there had only been one other re-Sorting in the history of Hogwarts, and it had been hundreds of years ago; a Hufflepuff began behaving so mischievously that the Hat was called in to move him into Slytherin. This quelled most students' fears as to her using unknown manipulation tactics on the staff.

Though he wasn't sure why they should care so much, her makeover at the hands of his dear cousin seemed to be equally gossip-worthy. The girl who had been nothing more than a cloak of hair with a nose in the middle had been unmasked, and all the students who had shot her accusatory stares for nearly three months were now more curious than outraged, and the whispers blew around the school in gusts and eddies. As to whether or not they thought these changes an improvement or not, Albus didn't know, but it wasn't for lack of input.

"You've spoken with her before, Albie," said Lily a few days later as he passed by her hushed conversation with Tanith Moon, Kayla Sylvanus and (to his chagrin) Wendelyne Moore out on the grounds. "Do you think she's prettier, or is her face yet more ghastly now we can see all of it?"

"Excuse me?!" he fired up at once.

Sensing a potential situation, Wendelyne moved to head her off with a whisper. "Er, perhaps this isn't the wisest-"

"I heard all these sixth-year Ravenclaw boys talking about what a marked change it is," Kayla put in mordaciously, "and how 'deep' her eyes are, whatever that rubbish means."

"You don't like your eyes 'deep', then?" he snapped. "Perhaps 'breathtaking' is more your bag, eh?"

A vindictive pleasure purred within him as he watched the surface around her upturned nose grow so deeply crimson she might have been mistaken for a prize-winning tomato; in fact, Tanith began to take on a greenish tinge, also. Lily, however, was blissfully unaware of her best friends' plight, and pressed on; he very much wished she wouldn't, as he'd prefer not to discuss such matters with his own sister. "Al, don't be cross, it's only... we'd like a man's perspective from our own House, you know?"

"That so? All right. In my opinion, Jezabel never looked ghastly, and is the same person she was before, so why don't you all find something to talk about that doesn't make you come off like an old ladies' quilting circle?!"

He ignored several exasperated shouts as he stomped down to Hagrid's.

Unwelcome though it might be, he'd fully expected Jezabel to cut herself off from him - after all, their Saturday had been a horrendous chain of events, from dueling in Hogsmeade, to forcing her to take a bath against her wishes, and strewing her dirty laundry all over the common room for a grand finale. He made one weak attempt to wave at her in the hallway the first time he saw her after he'd returned her things, and following this utter failure he gave it up; she needed time and space before he ventured an apology.

Rose, however, was also pretending he was part of the scenery, and this left him flabbergasted. Was she really so appalled that she wasn't even going to call him out on his actions, or give him a chance to explain? He briefly entertained the notion that maybe she and Jezabel were talking about him behind his back, but he never saw them together. Come to that, he never saw Rose with anybody at all.

The week wore on, and between homework and Quidditch practises (which were increasingly uncomfortable when a Chaser and the Keeper are both avoiding you at all costs), Albus slowly began to get used to being entirely friendless in the school that now felt like a dingy old abomination hewn from stone. On the upswing, the classes in which his grades had been slipping were a bit easier once he began spending most of his free time studying alone in the library, and Olivia Wood commented that he was flying better than ever due to logging a ridiculous amount of hours drifting aimlessly over the grounds. These positive aspects did little to counterbalance the cloud of depression that hovered around his head constantly.

When at last Saturday was upon them, Albus and Rose bumped into each other on the way out of the portrait hole; it was really only wide enough for one.

"Would you-"

"I was here-"

Then they stopped and stared at each other, both at a loss (especially Albus, who had no idea why he was receiving the cold shoulder of late). Hoping to curry even a speck of favour, he bowed back and allowed her through ahead of him. Nodding stiffly, she bolted through without a backward glance.

"Cripes, what in-?"

But he didn't finish his thought, instead stomping out after her. He'd scarcely rounded the corner when she walked straight into him, her nose stabbing into his eye.

"Ow!" he cried, backing up and clutching at the throbbing orb. "What's- why did you- eh?!"

"Merlin, Al, I- why didn't you watch out?!"

"Me watch out?! How was I supposed to know you were going to-"

"Wait, wait," she sighed, rubbing her tender button nose. "I didn't come back to jump down your throat, I... to apologise for... y'know."

"No, I don't!" He was trying to master his anger, but the pain caused this to be a tall order. "I- you- all I want is an explanation! What did I do to cheese you off?! Must have been a new level of awful for you to-"

"Nothing!" she gasped, evidently surprised. "No, it's not your fault at all - I'm so sorry, I haven't been meaning to shut you out! Oh, why do these things keep happening to me?"

"To you?!"

"Okay, look," she whispered, starting off toward the nearest staircase as she talked, "we don't really have time to get into it at the moment, but I swear, I- I- I can talk about it now, I have to... we have to. Just... can you wait?"

"No."

"Albus!"

"Oh, fine," he grunted. "But I don't like it."

"Like we're going to enjoy this. By what means shall our knuckles be bleeding this evening?"

Albus exhaled powerfully, trying his best to release all Rose-related frustrations in this manner. "Scrubbing something disgusting... or trying not to get trampled by something. There's always an undefined 'something' you'd rather stayed that way, isn't there?"

When they reached the entrance to the dungeons, they were greeted by a familiar face, though it was distinctly out of place in that location. Albus blinked rapidly to be sure before speaking to her.

"Hey, Dorika. Er, what's going on?"

"Detention with Dryden," the Hufflepuff replied, frowning deeply. "You?"

"The same."

"What are you in for?"

"Talking during class," said Rose. "You?"

"Calling Timothy Goyle a nasty name for putting snails down the back of my robes - and of course, Mr Urran didn't see him playing his trick on me, so he got off scot-free."

Albus's eyebrow went up. Dorika Dunsmore, swearing? "What'd you call him?"

"Er... I'd rather not repeat it; might earn me another detention."

A collective sigh issued from the lungs of all three beleaguered souls, and they hesitated only the briefest of moments to swallow their pride before setting off down the dank, torch-lit hallways toward the Potions Master's office and uncertain doom. They had scarcely covered half the distance when Rose stopped short.

"Hang on - oh no!"

"What?" Albus whispered.

"I left my dragon-hide gloves up in my dormitory!"

"What? You dunce, we've got to be in there in about three minutes or we'll be late, and I don't think he'd find it fashionable!"

"You could Summon them from here," Dorika suggested. "Head a bit further back to pull off a stronger Charm, maybe?"

"Right... yeah, I can do that." Her mouth slipped into a lopsided grimace as she said, "But you two go on in - wouldn't want all of us to be tardy if this takes too long."

Albus shifted guiltily. "You sure?"

"Very. Go on, then."

He and Dorika shrugged, and the two of them left their red-haired comrade to Summon the gloves they may well be needing for their detentions, continuing along the corridor. Just as he began pushing open the door to Professor Dryden's office, however, Albus heard a thunderous soliloquy from inside.

"-bunch of short-sighted gargoyles! Blocked at every turn, a lifetime of work and research for nothing! Why can't they comprehend, when are they going to realise? Ignorant, boorish ninnies!"

His Hufflepuff co-eavesdropper raised her eyebrows at him, but Albus held a finger to his lips. Professor Dryden was in a towering rage, and this was far too good to give up by announcing their presence too soon, tardiness be damned.

"After so much time, I finally did it, didn't I? Did what no one else had managed! But have I been given any recognition? Of course not! Oh yes, Austerus Dryden, the renowned Potioneer, great with a cauldron, blah blah blah, but what does all that matter when you've discovered the power of control over the uncontrollable?!"

Dorika gasped, and Albus instantly knew her reaction would not have gone unnoticed. When the professor fell silent, his stomach slipped a notch, and it fell straight through onto the floor a moment later when the door burst open to reveal their Potions Master standing across the room, wand raised.

"So," he said in a low, murderous voice. "Two of Hogwarts' brightest stars have decided they need to be kept abreast of everything going on within its walls, have they? That's quite a task you've set yourselves, you know. Perhaps it would help if you were to take a few remedial courses, to ensure you can recognise the happenings around you, yes? Tell me - do you know what the insides of a mutated chameleon look like, Ms Dunsmore?"

Her mouth worked for a minute before she could manage even the barest squeak. "I- I- I-"

"That area of knowledge stagnated in your mind, has it? How about a fresh reminder?"

Even though he witnessed what happened next, even though he was standing transfixed in the very same room with them, Albus was positive he could not be watching the jar on the wall behind Dryden exploding, nor see its contents zooming straight toward the golden-haired third-year. It occurred to him to act just a moment too late, and his hands were barely raised toward her when the grotesque, dripping guts splattered across her face.

"EEK!"

"Has that been helpful?!" Dryden spat, his crooked nose yet further twisted by fury.

As Dorika continued to scream, stumbling around and trying to rid herself of the entrails, Albus stepped forward and yelled, "You can't do this, you haven't the right!"

"Haven't I?! You come to my office, listening at the door like a couple of-"

"But we're here to serve your detentions!" he said hotly. "We had to come in!"

"That's not- but you were- that... oh." His anger finally began to abate. "And... but you were listening, were you not?"

"We were, sir." He tried not to sound overly defiant, praying they might be out of the woods. "We thought about barging in, but you were in a... well, a frenzy, and I reckoned it wiser to wait it out."

The piercing stare was back, and drilling straight through into Albus's mind. "Did you hear... everything?"

"Er... well, I dunno, we heard some stuff, but I don't really know wh-"

"Ahh." Dryden's temper was being replaced by anxiety at a disquieting rate. "Yes, well... well, let's call it a night, then."

"What?"

"Your detentions today were to, ah, promise not to repeat anything you heard in the past five minutes. Being that I trust you to keep this promise, we shall consider your detentions served. You may go now."

He couldn't believe his ears - avoiding licking the stains off rusty cauldrons just by overhearing their teacher muttering to himself? It was like being given the keys to Honeydukes. "And... and Rose?"

"Yes, fine, tell her she's been let off, as well. But remember, you mustn't repeat what you heard to anyone - anyone! Understand?"

"Er, yes sir, of course!"

"Good lad." He now flashed Albus what might have been a fatherly smile on a less-imposing person - or one who didn't look as if they were about to pack their things and flee that very night. "You are in possession of a sharp mind, aren't you? Now, off you go, I, er... I have matters to attend."

Once Albus had managed to clear off Dorika's face and drag her out into the hall, they caught up with Rose at the bottom of the staircase, who was trotting down to them with a put-upon expression. "Ruddy things wouldn't come to me! Guess my reluctance to get on with my detentions showed through my spellwork." Then she stopped short. "Wait a second - what are you two doing back so soon?"

Despite their promise to the professor, Albus found no way of explaining why they were being excused from detentions for the first time in memory without relaying Dryden's insanity to Rose. Dorika was just welling up with tears from reliving the chameleon spleen getting lodged up her nose when Rose gasped in shock.

"But that's- he's a teacher, he's not allowed to do things like that to us! I mean, you and I, we're almost of age, but... but Dorika's only thirteen, yeah? That's child abuse, that is!"

"Actually, I'm f-fourteen, now," she whimpered, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. "My birthday was two weeks ago."

"Beside the point! What the bloody hell's wrong with this school? Everything's so bass-ackwards, I- I can't believe- what are we supposed to do, just sit around and take it?!"

"What did he mean?"

Both cousins turned to Dorika Dunsmore and waited for her to elaborate. She squirmed uneasily, as if she'd rather put the night behind her.

"P-Professor Dryden, when he was talking about getting recognition... for what?"

"Sounds like he was on about that bloody Wolfsbane Potion again," said Rose impatiently. "So what?"

"No, I... he was talking about the ghosts, wasn't he?"

Albus's mind raced back through their encounter in his office and it all fit into place. "'Control over the uncontrollable'... Blimey, she's right!"

"What do you mean?" asked Rose.

"Think about it - nobody's ever been able to control ghosts, have they? I mean, exorcise them, sure, but that'll get rid of them permanently, that's not really control at all! Maybe Dryden's found some way to force them to do his bidding!"

"I don't know," said Rose skeptically. "That is... why? What would it possibly gain him?"

"We've been over this," he snapped. "Cover-ups, distractions, 'recognition', whatever it is - he and this stupid chimaera aren't satisfied with-"

"Chimaera?!" Dorika squeaked. "B-but-"

"What are we supposed to do, though?" Rose demanded. "We've tried talking to the teachers, we've tried investigating on our own, and nothing makes a bit of difference - besides, it's been ages since we've had an incident, all the leads have gone dead! Even if he was talking about it, what good does it do us to know?"

He'd been ready for this part. "It might warn us that he's about to attack again. Acted like he wasn't pleased with his progress so far, didn't he, Dorika?"

She blinked, clearly not expecting to be asked for her opinion. "Huh? Oh, well I-"

"Exactly," he blazed ahead. "So maybe he's planning something huge next - something they can't ignore, whoever 'they' are. Shouldn't we at least report this to Longbottom, or maybe even Headmisstr-"

"But we can't!" Dorika breathed. "We're not supposed to tell anybody - we probably weren't even supposed to tell Rose! If... if he really can control spirits, mightn't he have ways of knowing if we've let slip our secret?"

The three of them fell silent, staring down at the floor. She had a point, and a scary one, at that. What could they possibly do if he were spying on them? Albus felt his skin crawling as he imagined beady eyes in every corner, waiting for them to slip up, craving an opportunity to devour them whole.

"I... I'd better get back to my common room," Dorika mumbled as she took off, not waiting for them to respond. It was just as well; they were still too deep in thought to manage anything more than a vague nod.

"We shouldn't have done that."

"Eh?"

"Albus," Rose breathed, turning wide, fearful eyes toward him, "what if you were right? What if it's really Dorika? We spent the past fifteen minutes babbling about our theories, and now she knows we're trying to figure out who the perpetrator is, and she'll come after us next!"

"What? Oh, please, it has to be Dryden now - after all that he said?"

"All it proves is that he's keen on hiding something, which is pretty shoddy as far as evidence goes."

"But-"

"Drop it, will you? This isn't getting us anywhere, and if Dorika's right we're being listened to right now, so... I don't see any reason to discuss it further."

"Fine, then." He steeled himself for a fight. "Then why don't you tell me why you've been a right little prat lately?"

This didn't send her into a tirade the way he'd been expecting; on the contrary, she seemed to deflate upon his mention of her recent snubbing. Her face contorted as she slumped away up the stairs, picking up the gloves she'd dropped along the way and stuffing them into her pocket.

"Hey - Rose, wait up, don't be like-"

"Do we have to do this right now?"

"Do what? I don't even know what-"

"Sca-" Breath caught in her throat at the end of that single word, and by the halflight coming through the window he beheld the first gleam of new tears. "I- we can't... Albus, you don't want to hear this, I don't want to know about it, and we're in the middle of the first fl-"

"Tell me! I'm not going to let you off until you tell me!"

He stood watching her back for a while, waiting for her to make up her mind. Then, with an almost careless wand movement, she opened a nearby door and chivvied him inside, closing it behind them. It was pitch black inside, having no windows, and when she lit her wandtip it cast an eerie shadow into every sorrow-line in her face, around the shining tracks on her cheeks. It sent a wave of mingled dread and déjà vu through him he could not shake.

"SCARS, Albus. Dozens - hundreds - all over. Everywhere you looked, years old, fresh as weeks ago, they... it's like I couldn't breathe, I'm not sure how I stopped myself blubbering all over the place."

Albus allowed her a moment before he spoke up; he was already certain she had been right about him being better off living in ignorance. "Er... what in the-"

"Jezabel, you stupid git!" she half-shouted, half-sobbed. "Who do you think I'm talking about?! Cor blimey, there are days I think you were raised by trolls for the barrelfuls of context you grasp!"

"Jez- Jezabel has-"

"Scars," she reiterated, no longer shouting, at least. "Has to get a new one every other week by the looks of it. Horrible's not a good enough- it's, it's... depraved. The blighters in this castle are depraved, and ought to be cursed into oblivion, every last one."

"Wait, so... you're saying Jezabel's covered in scars? But I- I haven't seen any, where are-"

"You wouldn't have," she said darkly.

"Oh. Ohhh... but wait, why haven't I seen them before? We saw her in her knickers!"

His cousin tutted. "In case you've forgotten, we were a bit distracted that afternoon. There's also the fact that she was turning blue."

"But you had a longer look when you were cleaning her up," he gusted as he began to understand. His stomach was twisting itself into knots. "Are there really so many?"

"How can you think I'm being stupid? Not about a thing like- it feels wrong to put it like this, sounds awful, but... looking at her made me want to kill myself, just to keep from feeling that sorry for anybody, much less somebody who deserves every last iota of sympathy she can get! And... and I have something to say to you."

This change of direction startled him. He felt more than heard her shoe scuffing at the floor. "You have?"

"Yeah. Albus, I am so very, truly sorry I ever doubted your intentions with Jezabel. She's only- and you wanted to make her... God, that poor, miserable little creep!"

This might have been an insulting thing to say, but somehow Albus couldn't fault her as her freckled face came to be buried in his shoulder. Why did it seem like everybody kept crying on him lately?

END Chapter Twenty-Eight