Chimaera of Judgement



CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: An Ounce Of Perspective

"Bloody hell, I can't believe you pulled it off!" whooped a beside-herself Rose as Albus stepped from the mantle in Professor Longbottom's office. "Only my cousin could succeed where the Ministry's finest fell flat on their-"

"That was an awfully risky stunt, young man," Longbottom grunted at him, lips pursed. "Bet your parents really laid into you, didn't they?"

This aspect of his escape from Hogwarts had completely deserted Albus's mind until that moment; he'd duped his professor, which was not an action that usually went unpunished. "Er, yeah, they totally flipped out. Sir-"

"Then I'll belay my own irate speech about right and wrong." The man sighed as he clapped him on the shoulder. "Technically, none of your hijinks took place within the Hogwarts grounds, so I couldn't actually hand out any punishments, anyway. That responsibility lies with the mother and father, whom I trust have dealt with you accordingly already."

"Yes, sir." Albus surmised that it was best to keep his answers brief for the moment.

"There is also the small matter of your acting as our emmissary," he continued with a slight smile. "If you hadn't worried everyone sick and nearly sent poor Mrs Potter to St Mungo's, I might award you House points for returning one of our number to her place in Gryffindor. Unfortunately, all I can offer you is my thanks - oh, and..."

Without warning, the pockets of Albus's cloak were suddenly inflating as if carnival balloons. When he stuck his hands in they brushed against what felt suspiciously like sweet wrappers, but the Professor held up a hand to silence him before his mind had finished forming the question. "Off you go, then."

"To be frank, Al, I thought you were cracked," Rose chortled once they had reached the hallway. "Racing off to parts unknown to convince a dropout to drop back in? Madness!"

He cocked his head to one side. "I thought you wanted to go with me?"

"Well, yeah, but - anyway, I'm really glad you managed it! Jezzy belongs in school, and now we've got our third wheel back!"

"Speaking of which," he butted in before she could continue gushing, "where is our reluctant sixth-year?"

"Up in her room." Albus set off for the common room, and Rose soon fell into an easy pace beside him. "Said 'hi' to me and all, of course, but I think she wanted to make sure her personal items hadn't been incinerated in her absence."

"Hmm."

"That's the thing, though-" Her voice dropped as she threw an arm around his shoulders, and a most powerful feeling of having never left the school at all came over him. "I heard Jocasta telling Brunhilda that most of her stuff was already gone ages ago - since those human nifflers went through it in the common room. That's a craptastic trial to go through, sure, but I can't believe anybody would chuck everything they own just because somebody's seen it, can you?"

"Maybe she didn't," he mused. "Jezabel's a year ahead of us, and more or less a genius - maybe she's enchanted her things so nobody can see them but her. A Vanishing spell, right?"

Rose considered this briefly before answering. "Plausable. You know, I might try it myself if I knew how to make the Vanished objects come back."

"One more step in our magical education we've yet to take."

"Oh!" she gasped, causing Albus to jump straight into a preoccupied Ravenclaw student walking in the opposite direction. Rose began rummaging through her schoolbag as he disentangled himself from the fuming boy. "That reminds me, there's another stressful item on the agenda, now - here."

As he was brushing dirt from his knees, a handful of leaflets were thrust into his face. They were all sorts of colours, and each had something written across the front, most also bearing a picture or design. He squinted at a few of the titles.

"'Lose Yourself In The World Of Labyrinth Exploration'? 'So You Think You'd Like To Work In Muggle Relations?' What's all this rubbish?"

"Longbottom's going to be giving us career advice," she sneered at him with a roll of her eyes. "A loathsome proposition if ever I heard one. Your appointment's on Tuesday, if you want to know."

"You can't be serious." His eyebrows went up when she only stared at him. "What? B-but, wait, why? Since when?"

"The notice was tacked up on the bulletin board two days ago," she informed him apologetically. "You were supposed to have all weekend to look over the pamphlets and hopefully reach a decision or two, but..."

"But I've been missing from the castle lately," he finished for her. "Well, at least I've got tonight and tomorrow night to choose my path in life. Now I feel like I wasted the Easter holidays."

"Yeah... what exactly did you do all week?"

"Homework," he grunted. "Remember Dryden's eternal essay from Niflheim?"

His cousin made a sour face at the thought. "Only too well. Broke four quills getting through it."

"And when I wasn't doing that, Mum was running me ragged doing all the chores around the house, including a few left over from Spring cleaning; my punishment for sneaking off to the Skirrows'."

"Your- wait, what?!" Rose was aghast. "But that's not fair! You had good reason to sneak off, the system was giving up hope on Jezabel without a proper fight!"

He shrugged, glancing out the window at the Forbidden Forest as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I know that, and so do they, but both Potter parents said I should've discussed it with them before Flooing off half-cocked."

"Hmm... yeah, I guess that makes a wonky kind of sense. Still say they were too harsh."

"Yeah." The grin sprang up of its own accord. "Good to be back, Rosie."

To his amusement, she flashed him a watery smile that probably resembled his own. "God, it's been dismal here without my best mate - Hagrid's sick of me by now, and I've had to resort to studying with Caspian in your absence."

"Lewis?" She nodded as he blinked, trying to imagine the two of them sharing notes voluntarily. "That's the last thing I expected."

"Exactly! It's like being shunted through Alice's rabbit hole! But, I mean, he's a knowledgeable enough bloke, and he did try and stop the Slytherins hexing our pants off."

Albus cupped a hand to his ear. "What's that sound off in the distance?"

"Eh?"

"Hmm... mightn't it be wedding bells?"

An exasperated growl began in the back of Rose's throat. "Wizards in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Mr Runs-Off-To-Rescue-A-Certain-Nouveau-Gryffindor-Twice-Per-Week!"

o o o

The prospect of choosing a permanent trade with little to no time for serious consideration was daunting, to say the least. Albus spent the entire last day of the holidays scanning through the stack of promotional pamphlets touting everything from curse-breaking to secretarial work at the Ministry (which apparently required only satisfactory O.W.L.s across the board and no N.E.W.T.s at all, though he suspected a student with a handful of N.E.W.T.s would stand a better chance). His eyes grew itchy and red, but he was no nearer discovering his true passion than before.

Professor Longbottom did nothing to help narrow the field, either. While he was kind and patient throughout their meeting that Tuesday afternoon, his advice consisted largely of "Do your best in all subjects so you'll be ready for whatever your trade may be." This only served to increase Albus's dread of O.W.L.s.

"What if I fail everything?" he hissed at Rose and Jezabel over dinner that evening. "Or if I fail Defence, and then decide I fancy Magical Law Enforcement? Cor, this is all so- so-"

"Calm down," Rose soothed as she raised her butty to her lips. "Get through these stupid tests before you worry about the rest of your life."

"Thank you, Professor Longbottom," he shot at her.

"Er..."

Both cousins glanced over at Jezabel expectantly. "What?" Rose prompted after nearly ten seconds of watching her twist a strand of hair around her finger.

"I- w-well, perhaps I could help you with O.W.L.s, if you'd like an extra study partner."

"We couldn't dump that on you," said Albus, internally scratching out a memo asking Aunt Hermione to leave off needling anxious houseguests about her daughter's studies. "It's too much. Don't worry, I'm sure we'll do fine."

"No, honestly, it would be no trouble at all! The topics are all fresh from last year for me, and- oh, I really want to help! Besides, I've already finished the rest of this year's curriculum, so it's not as if my own studies would suffer that m-"

"You already what?!"

Rose was gaping at her shamelessly, elbow buried in her mashed potatoes. "No. All of it? B-but- but, but, but that's two full months of reading! It's impossible, nobody's that good!"

Jezabel came over bashful, eyes dropping into her goblet of pumpkin juice. "I know, I know... I'm a nerd."

"Nerd?" Albus glanced over at Rose to see if she recognised the term, but she was still goggling at the prospect of being an entire term ahead of the syllabus. "What's that?"

She seemed to be surprised to find him ignorant of this. "Oh, well, it's... hmm. It's someone who learns everything too quickly or too soon, or spends a great deal of time on the computer. You know, a geek?"

"Sorry," said Albus with a chuckle. "And what in Merlin's name is a ka-puter?"

"No, wait, I've heard of those." Evidently, Rose's shock had worn off. "It's an eckeltronic sort of Muggle encyclopaedia. Mum says she'd like to get one for the family, but that Dad would only use it to look at dirty pictures."

Jezabel giggled, possibly remembering the way Uncle Ron had bragged noisily over their luncheon. "Doesn't speak very well of your father."

"She rarely does. Anyway, I can't see how being a gerd or a neek is a bad thing, so... why are you acting like a Death Eater in a confessional?"

"It's not as if I am by choice," she continued, her voice noticeably more relaxed. "A nerd, that is, not a Death Eater. But with no one to talk to for the past several years, schoolwork had to double as a leisure activity, and it all sort of came so naturally after a while that I got used to-"

"You're missing Rose's point!" Albus interrupted. "We wouldn't resent you for being an academic sort or not; if that's your forte, I say have at it! I, for one, would be greatful for some help, I'm doing miserable in Astronomy."

Thus the three of them took to studying together as often as their schedules allowed, for their workload doubled upon the passing of Passover. Jezabel completed her assignments so quickly and effortlessly that she spent more time on her friends' than her own.

"It's like having a free private tutor," Rose remarked to Albus one night when Jezabel had excused herself for a quick trip to the bathroom. "Except I can stand her. Most tutors lord it over you, or else can't teach worth a lick, but she's got this instinct; it's like she knows exactly how to explain all this garbage so normal witches and wizards can understand it."

His eyes narrowed over the top of his Charms book. "Since when do you know so much about how private tutors operate?"

"Er... what do you mean? They're all like that, common knowledge." But her ears gave her away.

"You've had one before, haven't you?"

"That's a lie!" she squeaked, eyes wild as she gripped the edge of the table. "It never happened! And if it had, it would only have been for a year when I was eight, so there's no need to blow it out of proportion!"

"Ah, yes, your extra-rambunctious phase." He leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin in a thoughtful manner. "I seem to recall you dared me to do a lot of dangerous things when we were eight. Isn't that when we got Doxy poisoning?"

Rose refused to discuss the topic further.

The first Quidditch match of Spring term, Hufflepuff versus Slytherin, was a nail-biter of the worst kind. Neither team truly held onto the lead for long, and the Seekers spent so much time trying to stop each other from catching the Snitch that Albus wondered if the game would last long past sunset. Mercifully, Yaxley managed to come up with it in the fifth hour and ended the game with a score of two hundred and forty to one hundred and ten - though he did this by sinking his fist into Monica Grey's stomach, which earned him a month's detentions from a furious Madam Chang.

This, of course, acted as another reason for Olivia Wood to ride her team harder than ever at practises. Not that it really took the fun out of flying, of course - being on the same team as an ex-girlfriend (or never-was-girlfriend) whom would as soon eat her own Nimbus as talk to him got the job done well enough. Albus was on his way up to the common room after another such heartening practise when a large, firm hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"A brief word, Mr Potter?"

Albus remained confused in a terrified fashion as he followed Professor Dryden down into his dungeon. What could this be about? Had he done something to upset the Potions Master, perhaps an unsatisfactory grade? Or was he about to find out in the most painful way imaginable that he truly was behind the ghostly attacks?

"Sit." The student obeyed. "Very well... I have but one thing to say to you."

Albus braced himself, fingers flexing, ready to dive for his wand at a moment's notice. "And what might that be, sir?"

"Do you... hate me?"

This was it. That conversation between himself, Rose and Dorika Dunsmore was about to be repeated, and he would have the satisfaction of being proven right for a brief, shining moment before he found himself sleeping with the merpeople. "Why would I?"

His teacher's cold, fierce eyes attempted to take on a wounded look. "Have I been so harsh on you that you feel the need to punish me? Am I... such an abomination?"

An eyebrow arched slightly. "Wh-what are-"

"Your consultation!" he cried. "You met with your Head of House two weeks ago, did you not? Longbottom tells me you're unsure of your calling - have you forgotten our discussion from December?"

It all came back to him in a flash. "Oh! Oh, I-"

"Did you even glance at the pamphlet I gave you?"

"Of course." It wasn't technically a lie; he couldn't remember whether or not he opened it and perused its contents, but he could at least envision the front cover. "And - well, it sounds good, but there's so many careers, and it seems awfully early to-"

"You must act early!" he thundered. "Thorough preparation now will save you time and effort in your future! Have you been studying for your Potions O.W.L.?"

"I have," said Albus defiantly, sitting up a bit taller. "Night and day, and it's making my fingers and eyes bleed, thanks!"

"And what potion would one use for bleeding fingers?" When Albus only blinked dazedly at this unexpected quiz, he snapped, "Quick, now! Minor wound care, a Healer would need that knowledge at hand!"

A vision of Jezabel in the hospital wing sprang to the forefront of his thoughts, and he grimaced. What would she do? "Er... murtlap essence?"

"That would take the sting out, yes, but how to heal them over?"

"Dittany," he countered, now picturing the Potions Master himself as he asked Professor Peele why a bottle had rocketed from his personal stores. "No more bleeding."

Dryden's mouth opened and closed a few times before he sat back in his chair, smiling shrewdly. "Clever, very clever. A crude but effective solution. But you'd do well to keep in mind that dittany is quite expensive and difficult to procure, so one should use it sparingly. Still... well, I stand by my earlier opinion. If you don't grow lax in your studies, you could go far in Potions."

o o o

"AGAIN?!"

"Yup!" Albus leaned back in his squashy armchair by the fire, sniffing in a self-satisfied manner. "Seemed hurt I hadn't told Longbottom I have a burgeoning desire to apprentice behind his cauldron."

"That sells me on the 'Dryden: Ghost-Manipulator' theory - he's out of his gourd, I tell you!"

"D'you really want to revisit this?" he sighed. "I am making nearly top marks in Potions, it's not so far-fetched."

"I think it's wonderful," said Jezabel from behind her Arithmancy homework, which she was now scanning for nonexistant errors. "Albus should do what makes him happy, and if it happens to be working with Potions, then there's nothing wrong with it. As for Professor Dryden, he grew less and less short with me throughout Winter term, and has gone out of his way to make me feel welcome since Easter. I don't think he blames me for switching Houses anymore."

"Guilt," Rose muttered. "His own students started tearing you apart without provocation - why shouldn't he feel-"

"Rose!" Albus hissed at her. "Do try and be a little more sensitive when talking about present company, won't you?"

"Oh? OH!" She spun to face Jezabel, accidentally crumpling yet another quill. "Blimey, didn't mean to dredge all that up again, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking!"

"It's okay," she snorted, though Albus thought her voice shook ever so slightly. "I've survived worse. Or, well, as bad; the use of flagrate ranks fairly high. But what I mean is-"

"Professor!"

The three of them jumped and turned, following the voice to the foot of the boys' staircase. Puerilis Logan was staggering down the last few stairs, white as a sheet and panting. As they watched, Aqua Rankin grabbed him by the arm.

"What's your damage?" she asked. "You look like a ghost tried to kill you! Er, again."

"Wh-where's Professor Longbottom?" he rasped. "Up there... Ryan..."

"Come on, then," she soothed, guiding him toward the portrait hole as she shot Catherine Orchard a stymied look. "We'll go and get him together, yeah?"

They had scarcely stepped through when Albus sprang from his chair and bolted for the dormitories. He'd only gone a few steps when he heard Rose shout, "Oh, no you don't, not without me!"

"Fine, hurry up, then!"

When the two reached Albus's door, they saw it was wide open - Logan had neglected to close it in his haste to seek aid. A book full of notes lay open face-down near the foot of Logan's bed, parchment fanning out in all directions. Ryan was nowhere to be seen.

"Huh," Rose gusted. "What was he on about?"

"Hey - hey, they've been going through my stuff!" He picked up an empty box from his nightstand. "This was one of my birthday presents, what- hey, where is it?"

"Where's what?" It semed she was too busy flipping through the scattered pages for a clue to have paid much attention to his words.

"The monocle," he replied impatiently. "I never tried it out or anything, so I know I haven't mislaid it! You... you don't suppose they'd nick something like-"

"Hang on, Al - d'you mean this monocle?"

It was - he turned to see Rose was holding it by its fine silver chain. "Yeah, where was it?"

"On Ryan's bed," she replied with a shrug. "Guess they didn't want it that badly after all or they'd have taken it with them."

"What else were they going through?!" Albus found himself growing angrier by the moment. Frowning, he stomped over to his trunk and flung it open, scanning the contents for anything that might be out of place. "Aren't a man's possessions sacred anymore? What if they'd found the map, or the cloak? I swear, next time I see Ryan I'll feed him his own-"

"OW!"

That sound never bade well. "What?" he gasped, whirling. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she whimpered, clutching at her face. "I c-can't - ouch, it won't let go!"

"What won't? What's going on?"

Rose dropped her hand, and Albus fought to conquer a giggle. His cousin looked somewhat foolish with the antique eyewear hanging from her left eye, especially against her lank orange locks and dingy Hogwarts robes. "Is this some kind of stupid prank of yours, Al? A- a Permanent Sticking Charm, or- or-"

"Not me," he insisted quickly. "I barely ever looked at it."

"Wait, there's- behind you!"

Instinctively drawing his wand, Albus spun to face his attacker, but no one was there. "What did you see? One of the ghosts? Oh, that's all we need just now!"

"No, I- wait." She slowly began to turn, scanning the room as if memorising every detail in preparation for an O.W.L. "I... I see him everywhere. This doesn't make any sense, Al, how is it happening? Unless..."

"Rose Nymphadora Weasley, you stop burping up vague hints and tell me what you're babbling about or-"

"Ryan!" Her lens-free eye twitched slightly. "I... I think he's trapped inside the monocle!"

END Chapter Thirty-Six