Chimaera of Judgement

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: Azkaban

"Absolutely not!"

Headmistress Sprout's sigh was resigned, both to her position on the matter and the ensuing argument. "I'm afraid it isn't up to you, Neville; you know very well that a deathbed request like this supersedes the authority of any Herbology teacher."

The Herbology teacher in question took a deep breath, fighting down the instinct to hex his superior. "With all due respect, Headmistress, this is beyond absurd! We can't have students gallivanting off-campus for unknown reasons, and especially not into prisons! No, I'm sorry, I won't have it!"

"It's out of my hands," she repeated. "Miss Skirrow is of age, it's entirely her decision."

"Besides, dear boy," Professor Flitwick put in, "tomorrow happens to be a Hogsmeade weekend, so she won't be on campus one way or another."

Longbottom bristled. "Filius, you'll appreciate there is a slight difference between the quaint town a stone's throw from the castle and an isolated fortress teeming with the worst of all wizardkind!"

"And there's not much chance of her stepping foot in Hogsmeade again," Albus muttered. Why was he there, anyway? Jezabel had been summoned to see off a former Death Eater as she sailed down the River Styx, not he - nor Rose. Nevertheless, there they sat on either side of the obviously uncomfortable sixth-year, pondering her fate much the same as she herself must be doing.

"What in blazes can they be thinking?" Longbottom was now growling as he paced back and forth in front of the Headmistress' desk, nostrils flaring. "No matter how important whatever that- that-" here he used a word that caused Sprout to remind him children were present "- has to say is, there's no reason Miss Skirrow should be allowed alone in the same room with her!"

"She won't be alone," came a voice from the doorway. The small group turned to find Matthias Peele striding up to them, an apologetic look already in place as if it hadn't left since the letter was sent out that morning.

"You're a party to this?" Longbottom fumed. "You actually support the idea of a student voluntarily walking into the lions' den?"

"Longbottom, I'm surprised at you," said Peele, obviously caught off-guard by his violent reaction. "She'll be amply protected, and I assure you the Lestrange woman is no threat - she's quite ill, may very well pass on before we arrive."

"The world will be all the better for it," he seethed.

"That's enough bickering," Sprout interrupted, and Albus had the distinct impression she was trying to stop the Auror from questioning his Head of House's statement. "It's not doing us any good. Legally, it's all up to Jezabel; she can go if she pleases, and no one could judge her either way."

"Oh." Albus knew Jezabel would rather be anywhere else, doing anything else than deciding a moral dilemma between adults in the Headmistress's office. When she glanced over at him, he tried to give her a reassuring nod, but had the feeling it came off looking more like he had a pinch in his neck. "Well, it's- it's all so very sudden, and the situation, er... unique, to say the least. Really, I can't imagine what she could want with a nobody like me, and I'm curious to find out, but at the same time... at the- oh, how shall I-"

"You'd rather not be chatting up any homicidal maniacs," Rose offered.

"There is that, yes."

"We'll go with you, if you want," said Albus, trying not to give any recognition to Rose's jaw dropping open over Jezabel's shoulder and glad that his words had caused Jezabel to miss it when she turned to look at him. "Might be easier to handle if you've got company along."

"Hold it right there," Longbottom laughed harshly. "That won't be happening. No, no, you two have nothing to do with this madness, and you're underage, and your parents would skin me alive if-"

"I see no reason they shouldn't go," said Sprout wearily. "That is, if their parents approve. It's not as if there isn't a wealth of protection for them, neverminding the safety-in-numbers factor."

He stared evenly at his mentor for several seconds as if she'd Transfigured herself into dodo bird. "You're only too pleased to undermine me today, aren't you?"

"Oh, stop being such a melodramatic ass, Neville. I'll send an owl to the Potters and Weasleys immediately. You three may go to class. I suggest you do the same," she added as Longbottom's mouth began to open again. "Though I'd dearly love an excuse to slap you silly for how you've been behaving in this office, Penelope can't afford to take on yet another subject concurrently."

It seemed to take them hours to descend the spiral staircase and once again reach the corridors, but once they had put significant distance between them and the scene of the snit, Rose demanded, "Why don't you sign us both up before asking me, then? Saves me the trouble of having any free will!"

"You wouldn't help Jezabel?" he fired back at her, knowing full well Jezabel was standing right next to them and hoping Rose was wise enough not to saying anything yet more foolish. Albus, however, had underestimated Rose; her eyebrows arched in a deeply hurt manner. If the monocle hadn't been stuck on, he knew it would have fallen out when this happened.

"What? Don't be stupid, of course I would! I can't believe you think I'd let her fly off to Dark Wizard Central without backup!"

"I don't," he said in a self-satisfied manner. "That's why I offered both our services; thought it would present a more united front."

"Doesn't mean I don't like to be asked," she grumbled.

Jezabel sighed. "Please, both of you, I- I don't want you to go. I don't think I will, either, it's far too dangerous and- unforeseeable, what if she steals a wand from the guard, or-"

"Don't worry so much," Rose replied dismissively. "Three wizarding folk in their prime plus an Auror can overpower some old bat two steps from the grave."

"There you are!" When they whipped around, it was to find Lily gaining on their position fast, face shining with sweat.

"Lils!" Albus cried. "Did you find out anything?"

"Loads," she gasped, clutching a piece of parchment to her chest. "How about you? Can Jezabel go or is this all a dirty great joke?"

Albus shrugged. "Sprout says she can, but Jezabel's not sure she wants to, yet. What've you got?"

"It seems to be on the up and up," she panted. "The owl I got back from Uncle Percy says everyone at the office has been muttering about this Lestrange woman's turn for the worse - the Azkaban Healer and a pair from St Mungo's confirm all this, it's not an act!"

"Azkaban Healer," said Rose, almost to herself. "Merlin, who'd take that job?"

They continued to debate many aspects of this up into the common room, but as soon as they reached it they realised the second class of the day was about to start, and Rose and Albus had inadvertently missed the first half of Double Potions. They weren't overly concerned.

o o o

"I've just heard what's going on," Barty hissed at them over lunch.

"Have you?" said Rose. "About the exploding dreidel and the thirty-pound flan?"

"Wh-what?!"

"Fine, fine," she gusted. "Let's talk about the field trip to Azkaban."

He rolled his eyes, finally realising Rose had been winding him up. "The lot of you must be mad to even consider it - I cannot believe your parents approve! Do they know what kind of element resides in there?"

"No, pray tell," said Albus, unable to help himself.

"Hooligans! Scoundrels! Law-breakers and sinners! Why, you might not even come out of there alive, and then what would you have to say for yourselves?!"

"Not much, I expect," said Rose. "Unless we come back as ghosts and haunt you for being so annoying."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," he growled, stalking away.

Rose leaned over to Albus. "He needn't worry; you think I want it known my cousin is such a daftie?"

o o o

The trek down into Hogsmeade Village next morning seemed even longer this time than it had on the previous occasions. Jezabel kept herself directly between Albus and Rose, as if hoping they would prevent her from being seen and they might all make this trip unmolested because of it.

It had taken her right up until supper the previous night to confirm that she was going. Though she remained terrified of entering a prison and speaking directly with a well-known villain of yesteryear, the questions of why she'd been asked to do it at all tormented her so thoroughly that she at last decided she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she missed her only chance to find out more. Albus thought she was brave. Rose thought she was insane, but sympathised with her thirst for knowledge. Barty thought they'd all taken complete leave of their senses.

Matthias Peele waited in front of the Three Broomsticks for them, travelling cloak drawn around him as if it were far colder than it truly was. He flashed them a nervous smile, and when they were within easy speaking distance he asked, "Ready?"

Rose swallowed. "If that's what you want to call it."

"Should I do Side-Along as well?" asked a Jezabel whom had managed to appear more pale than usual. "I've never been to- well, that is, I don't know where I'm going, even though I've passed the test."

"Just hold onto my cloak and follow my lead," he instructed. "Should be enough to get you there, and I'll double back for you if you get lost or splinched. These two, I'll need to grip rather tightly, so I won't be able to spare an arm for one more."

They all took positions, glancing around at the happy hamlet they were leaving behind for a gaol. Albus had just enough time to question his own sanity again before Peele had counted to three - then they all felt themselves turning into the darkness, being squeezed through a pipe and out the other side, suffocating before gulping the first breaths of salty sea air.

"WHOA!"

No sooner had they completed their journey than Rose was bowled backward onto an outcropping of rocks by a turbulent wave; Peele moved quickly to help her, but the damage was already done, and she was holding the small of her back when they rejoined the other two.

"S-Sorry about that," he said earnestly, almost obscenely more on edge now that they were approaching the belly of the beast. "But this is the only p-part of the island we can Apparate on; the rest has a-"

"Like Hogwarts," Jezabel breathed, staring wide-eyed at the waves and surrounding miles of ocean. Was that sweat breaking out all over her forehead? "Yes, of course it would, that's rather an important precaution."

"Smart girl," he laughed nervously.

"Well, I think it's lousy," Rose spat, moving like an old woman. "You could at least level these rocks, build a wall to keep the ocean from sweeping away the visitors!"

Peele nodded, his face showing that he shared her feelings. "I'll drop that in the suggestion box. Meanwhile, I suppose we should get inside."

Albus's green eyes grew wide as he turned. "Merlin Ambrosius..."

Azkaban Prison was as impressive as it was daunting. Every wall of its many floors was made of pitch-black stone, and the windows were so tiny they were more like airholes. Turrets poked up from each corner, presumably reserved for the worst of the worst criminals. Two armed, thick-set wizards and a security troll stood outside the main gate.

"State your name and business," said one of the wizards.

"Matthias P-Peele," he bumbled, breath coming faster all the time. Rose edged away from the troll, trying to accomplish this without drawing attention to herself. "Two young witches and one young wizard to see prisoner AZ452."

The man blinked as if they'd asked to hold a dinner party there. "What? These children?! Credentials, please." Albus glimpsed a scroll with a Ministry seal being unslit, pored over for a few moments, then resealed and handed back. "Very well. Tobbs will take you along to her cell."

As forbidding as the outside had been, the inside was equally dismal and dreary, its gloom more than a match for the sparse light from the window slits and Tobbs's wandtip. Shrieks and deranged laughter rang out from the far corners, just barely audible from their position. When a clang sounded down a branching hallway, Albus felt thin fingers clamp down on his own.

"It's okay," he whispered to Jezabel. "We're not leaving."

"How would we?" laughed Rose nervously. "Neither of us can Apparate. Blimey, there's a lovely thought - no escape."

"Not helping, Rose!"

"It's okay," Jezabel squeaked. "I'm... I'm okay. This won't take very long, I'm sure. How much can she possibly have to say to me?"

"If we knew that, we wouldn't have to come," Albus replied.

"Say... Mr Peele," Rose began as she craned her neck to see down another passage, "where are the dementors?"

"Dementors?" he laughed. "Goodness, child, we drove them off ages ago!"

"You did? But... but Dad always used to threaten to send us here and let the dementors have us if we misbehaved. You're telling me it's all a myth?!"

Tobbs sighed, voice bitter and callous. "If only it were. I've been a guard wizard all my life, and believe you me, having the dementors around made this job a living hell, and I mean that in a very literal sense. Thank Merlin the Wizengamot saw reason. This is the one," he said abruptly, glowering around at them with his coal-black eyes as he stopped next to a door identical to the others around it. "And I'm afraid I'll need to hold the civilians' wands."

"What?!" shouted Albus. "B-but what if-"

"It's all right," Matthias gusted, smoothing over the few hairs left atop his head. "I'll be keeping tight hold on mine; trained law enforcement professionals are allowed to keep theirs around the prisoners, but one too many wizards have come here for a 'visit', only to exact cold revenge on a defenseless sworn enemy... or else the prisoner is able to wrest the wand from the visitor and makes a mess in their attempt for freedom. Rules are rules for a reason."

Jezabel slowly held hers up for the guard to confiscate, and after a few more seconds, Albus and Rose followed suit. Then the key was turning in the lock, the door was opening, and the four of them were walking inside.

The sight on the other side of the room brought a hush upon them. The Azkaban Healer was at the head of a grimy-looking bed, tending to a figure lying among the sheets. The Healer, for his part, was a reedy sort of man with salt-and-pepper hair and long sideburns. The patient wasn't clearly visible from their vantage point, but she was dressed in tatty prison robes, and her bare, gnarled feet spoke of severe malnutrition. The mad tangle of black hair obscured the rest of her.

"Cor blimey," Rose breathed.

"Who's there?" a thin, angry voice demanded. "Who's in here?"

"A visitor," said Mr Peele unnecessarily loudly, fiddling with the neck of his robes. "You sent for her, remember?"

"Ahh... ah, yes. Ickle Jezzybel has finally paid us a visit, has she?" Before they could react, a violent cough came from the bed, and the Healer bent over her in some concern. "Oh, get off, you hovering bat! My guest... bring her closer."

No one moved. Jezabel glanced at Albus, who glanced at Rose, who glanced at Mr Peele, who glanced at the Healer, who glanced back at Jezabel. This circle continued for a round or two before Rose finally poked Jezabel in the small of the back, chivvying her forward and next to the bed. Her two friends followed a pace behind, and when they all beheld the creature that had summoned them, Albus had to trod on his own foot to keep from staggering backward or crying out.

She looked like a ghoul. It was the only accurate description. Sunken, filmed-over eyes and cheekbones, premature wrinkles, laboured breathing... the collarbones stood out so much further than he believed possible that he first assumed she was wearing some strange sort of necklace. Her mouth widened, revealing a few blackened teeth and many holes where others had been.

"Good morning, cupcake," she rasped, blinking slowly up at them. "How was your trip?"

"Very well, thank you," Jezabel lied. "How have you been keeping, Mrs Lestrange?"

"Oh, let's dispense with all that bilge," she wheezed with a feeble wave of one hand. "I don't have enough time left to play Dukes and Duchesses." Then she squinted, an action that seemed to take great effort. "Who the bloody hell are these - and why does a teenager need a monocle?"

"Albus Potter, ma'am," he said softly. "And this is Rose Weasley."

"POTTER?!" she gasped, visibly shaken. "No... no, take him away, I don't want to see any Potters! I've had enough of them for one lifetime! And as for Weasleys, well, they've put me in here, haven't they? You bumbling blighters, how can you have- when I'm-"

The rest of her words were cut off by a hacking fit twice as severe as the first, and Mr Peele motioned for Albus and Rose to stand by him instead, but Jezabel said, "N-no, don't!"

"What?!" the Lestrange woman gasped between coughs. "You- you'd deny a dying woman- her preference in- in conditions?!"

"I..." She waffled for a moment before taking in a deep breath. "I'm not staying if they don't. They're my f- my friends."

Albus gave Jezabel's hand a quick squeeze, which she returned. Meanwhile, Rose beamed in a satisfied manner, folding her arms over her chest. "Looks like it's all or nothing, you old hag."

The ailing prisoner gawped at them for several moments before falling to another fit of coughing. After a moment, however, Albus began to suspect that this was supposed to resemble laughter. "Just like the dog that bit me. Must have Molly for an ancestor somewhere." Then her eyes went back to Jezabel. "So you've caught some of the old spunk after all, eh? I was afraid those damned Muggles would have ruined you completely. Very near happened to this boy's father, didn't it?"

For the first time, Jezabel seemed to be more confused than afraid, especially because the prisoner was glaring at Albus again. "What?"

"My goodness, it's been so long since I've had proper company... two years, since Rodolphus passed, that is. Tell me, how have you been doing at Hoggy Warty Hogwarts? Getting top marks, I'll bet. Wouldn't expect any less."

"Er, well... I, er-"

"She's a genius," said Albus at once. "All O's."

"Naturally," Bellatrix sighed, closing her eyes with a smile. "Still, it is good to hear it wasn't all for nothing. Suppose Draco's offspring is flushing their marks down the loo."

"Mrs Lestrange," Jezabel began hesitantly, "I- I have been wondering why you've called me here. Is there something I can do for you? Perhaps..." Something seemed to come back to her, and she spared Albus a quick glance before continuing, "Perhaps you knew my parents, and you'd like them to do a favour for you? Or-"

"Your parents," she spat, as if force-fed medicine by the nearby Healer. "Yes, yes, a favour for family is always distinctly unpleasant, isn't it? Those Muggles had to do one, and look what it got them - a thundering headache, I'm sure! Well, you'll hex them good for me, won't you? Yes... yes, you'll do that..."

The three of them were so bewildered by these statements that they could think up no response, silently asking each other if they were thinking the same thing: had this woman's mind already faded? Were they standing around listening to the rantings of a senile inmate, wasting a perfectly good Saturday?

"Come closer, child."

Albus found he could actually see the muscles in Jezabel's throat moving as she gulped. With one last squeeze, she let go of his hand to move directly over the bed, sitting upon a stool that had been placed there in anticipation of her visit.

"Yes," the ghastly creature breathed, raising a trembling hand to her face. "Every bit. Those proud lips... oh, and the eyes. Hmm, no mistaking those, most exotic among all wizardkind. I recognise that jaw, as well - hate to admit that part, but you can't have got all the choice bits, I suppose. And-" A slight crease appeared in the dying woman's brow. "Well. I wouldn't have believed it to be true if I hadn't seen it myself."

"What is it?" Jezabel prompted, desperately hoping the next bizarre proclamation would make sense of all the others.

"The bump," she said easily, gesturing to the bridge of her nose. "They said it'd be there, but I figured that was a load of nonsense. Then again, I didn't believe it was really going to happen at all before it did, so what do I know?"

As she fell to cackling and coughing again, Jezabel chanced a questioning look back at her travelling companions, both of whom shrugged helplessly. Albus wished that he could translate these rantings for her, but he was coming up blank.

"Jezabel."

And suddenly, inexplicably, Albus knew what was happening. The tone of her voice, the hand clutching at her chest... and a suspicion of what was about to be spoken into the room. The stage was set for this moment in his mind, and though he couldn't believe it, he watched with baited breath to see if his mental picture would come to life.

The other hand reached feebly, searching. Instinctively, Jezabel caught hold of it, and the smile on Bellatrix's lips said that was her goal all along.

"Even though my arm was twisted, and even if you turn out to be a Muggle-loving pustule or a nitwit Ministry lackey... I am glad I got to meet you once before I snuffed it. I... I wanted to see if that cur and I had forged a powerful descendant. Seems we did."

The comprehension had just begun to creep into Jezabel's eyes when Bellatrix turned to the two cousins, standing back a bit and feeling quite out of place. "One last thing to tend to, and my debt is paid. Pottymouth... you and your girlfriend there will need to help her through it. The teachers or Ministry brass will be able to force their way in there, I'm sure, but only a strong bond can help her get out." Her eyes were still on him as she spat, "Oh, why did it have to be you?"

When all three of them returned their gaze to Jezabel, they found she was crying quietly, the tears as thick as ever Albus had seen them. Before Bellatrix could say another word, she whispered, "M... Mother?!"

"Couldn't even send you a post until you were of age - and here I am, dying just weeks after. Beautiful timing, isn't it? Feels like Dumbledore rigged it from the other side."

"No, y-you can't be," Jezabel blubbered, both horrified and sorrowful. Albus heard Rose gasp in his ear as she caught up. "That's impossible, absurd, it- I'm not your-"

"Help her wake up," she croaked, sounding more and more feeble, more and more desperate to finish. "Farewell, my Jezabel, and... and there is one more word I have to leave you with."

Doe eyes grew wide, bottom lip quivering as she impulsively leaned farther over the Death Eater, unable to accept that she had been granted this unprecedented gift for a whole thirty seconds before having it cruelly ripped from her. "M-m-mother!"

It was all coming true - everything Albus had envisioned, deranged though it seemed. But his brief brush with clairvoyance ended there; Albus had not been expecting her to raise a shaking hand, nor for her to place her index finger on the bump on Jezabel's nose. Then, so very obviously clinging to her last few breaths, Bellatrix Lestrange whispered, "Evelyne."

It seemed like everything became still for an eternal instant; then, the arm fell limply to the bed, and one last, laboured breath escaped the frail woman's lips. The Healer took her pulse, nodded, and used his fingers to draw her eyelids closed.

"Merlin's beard," said Rose in hushed tones. "It's... this is mad, it's all so-"

"What's..."

Both cousins looked up at Jezabel, afraid of the conclusions they might reach once they all began talking. But they needn't have bothered worrying about that just yet, for they had another problem.

"What's happening to me?" she squealed, dark eyes crossed as they stared at the bump on her nose - which had begun to glow. As the other four living beings in the room looked on, the glow swelled and encompassed all of her nose, then her entire face, making it shine like a sunburst. "A-Albus, help! Make it stop, make it-"

The glow was gone. Her head rolled to one side. Jezabel slumped to the floor.

END Chapter Thirty-Eight