Chimaera of Judgement



CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE: The Weight Of O.W.L.s

Jezabel did not seem to feel any urgent need to open her birthmother's envelope, despite around-the-clock coaxing from Albus and Rose as the sun set on the month of May. The idea of being given an unknown present from beyond the grave and not caring was absurd to them; how could she put it off like an unpleasant chore? Albus expected her to refuse to tell him why, as well, but he was mistaken.

"I don't know," she sighed exasperatedly at him one evening as they sat around a table in the Gryffindor common room. "It's- there's a niggling feeling that I shouldn't open it just yet."

Rose looked up from behind a particularly gruelling Charms assignment. "Are you afraid of the Mentacles' revenge or something?"

Her dark eyes seemed to consider this briefly. "Hmm... maybe a bit, but not entirely. Whatever's stopping me opening it is another animal altogether, and- oh, I do wish I could put my finger on it!"

"It's okay," Albus soothed. "Put your mum from your mind for now. Let us know when you're ready, and we'll be there to help you deal with the envelope's contents."

"Whatever they are," said Rose darkly.

The madcap string of events that played out after Gryffindor's spectacular victory on the pitch had done its level best to banish all thoughts of his father's broom from Albus's mind, and it may have been some time before he thought of it again if not for a question posed to him on the afternoon two days following.

"Tell me, have you ordered a replacement broom, Albus?" asked Professor Longbottom as the other students filed out to wash up.

"Oh," he breathed, painfully imagining the expression on his father's face when he found out the legendary gift from Godfather Sirius was no more. "N-not yet; I hadn't even considered it. Er, why? What do you recommend?"

"I recommend you don't bother," he said with a sly grin, reaching down behind his desk and holding up the good-as-slightly-used Firebolt he had grown so used to in such a short time.

"What in the bloody hell- it's perfect!" he exclaimed, running his fingers along the polished handle as his teacher pretended to be affronted by his language. "You'd never think to look at it that a Bludger had turned it to toothpicks! How'd you manage this?"

Neville shrugged. "It was a clean enough break, I reckoned it wouldn't be too difficult for a learned wizard. Let me know if it's gone wonky from being fixed improperly, won't you? Wood'll owe me a large favour if his handiwork drops one of my students on his skull..."

Being that they were at school and he had a reputation to uphold, Albus restrained himself from hugging his Head of House.

Their feverish studies and ongoing Quidditch Cup celebrations caused the greater population of Gryffindor House to forget that they had one last Hogsmeade weekend to enjoy before O.W.L.s. Thus, it came as something of a shock to Albus when Nathaniel Peasegood crossed the common room the night previous and stumbled around his question for several tries before successfully asking Rose out on a date - depending on how one defines success.

"Look, Nate, I told you I am not interested!" she hissed, glancing over at Albus as her ears began to flash like a clabbert's pustule. "I... I'd hate to watch you keep doing this to yourself over and over, but that's what you'll be doing if you don't stop, so please, just... just leave it, all right?"

Albus strained to hold his laughter in until the gangly third-year had slunk far enough away that he might not hear it. Then, he could bear it no longer.

"Bugger off, Al."

"B-but Rose," he chuckled, wiping an eye, "you should have s-seen the look on your freckly face when he asked - I thought your ears were going to melt into slag!"

"I said shut up, will you?" she ordered, grabbing up her quill so thoughtlessly that she spilled ink all over her Potions book. "Twice is two times too many! He'd better not bother me again or his next rejection will have to be more public."

"Poor thing," whispered Jezabel, using her wand to clear off the book as best she could. She seemed to Albus reluctant to comment on the situation, but compelled to do so. "Y... you were awfully short with him, Rose."

Albus's cousin did not seem to enjoy their comments. "Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't. Maybe I ought to lock you two and Nate in Dungeon Six with a boggart for a few days." A heavy sigh issued from the depths of her. "Can we get back to studying, for the love of Merlin?"

o o o

The sky was iron grey on the morning of their last Hogsmeade trip of the school year, though the temperature was more than comfortable. Albus could not blame Jezabel for staying behind to pour over her notes - when had she ever come back from the village in a remotely good mood, if not in tears or unconscious? Nevertheless, Albus had a personal mission to tend to, and Rose thought his reservations about Hogsmeade were unfounded.

"Codswallop," she scoffed as they poked around in Honeydukes. "Voldemort will not rise again purely because we've set foot in this dinky municipality. You're just-"

"-just right? Rose, the last two - two times Jezabel came back from here, she had to be carried because she couldn't do it under her own power! How can that be coincidence alone?"

"She's got rotten luck to begin with," Rose countered, balancing a pack of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and some Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans in her hands as if their weight would determine which she'd rather buy. "Trying to make out that any of it's rooted in a central location is stupid."

"Oh, well, sorry I'm stupid, then."

Rose rolled her eyes. "The wounded act isn't going to work this time; I don't believe in your budding superstition and I'm not changing my mind. Now, what is it you wanted to pick up while we're down here?"

"It has to be something nice," he said distractedly, peering between every shelf. "Not a common thing like a sherbet ball, it's got to have meaning... or something really good, like you'd get once in a lifetime."

As he reached for a case of Chocolate Frogs, he found his hand blocked by Rose's questioning eyes. "Do I get to know why we're picking out a wedding present, or are you counting on my shock being genuine when you pop the question to one of your hangers-on back at the castle?"

"Oh, get out of it," he grumbled. "It's not like I've never got anything for you, is it?"

"Never. Not once in all our lives. You are simply the least generous person I've-"

"Enough, already," he laughed in spite of himself, rummaging around in his schoolbag. "Look, here - still think I'm not generous?"

Rose stared down at the box in her hands, mildly surprised. "Extendable Ears? What are these for?"

"Bought 'em back when Mum dragged Jezabel and I to Diagon Alley for the day, turning her into a dress-up doll in the process. Yours were bottoming out the last few times we used them, weren't they?"

And the edge melted from Rose's voice. "Cheers, Al... but what took you so long to give them to me?"

"No specific opportunity presented itself," he shrugged. "Anyway, if you don't want to help me with my shopping, I'll do it myself."

"Well, obviously I'd walk through fire for you now you've handed me a cheap trinket from Uncle George's shop." She folded her arms as they moved aside for a few patrons to squeeze past them through the aisle, voice still dripping with sarcasm when she continued. "Call me insatiably curious, but... what is it we're supposed to be picking out?"

Albus smiled conspiratorially, and one of Rose's eyebrows began to inch upward. "I think you'll agree that it's more than a little important."

o o o

Sunlight poured in through the windows of Hogwarts on the day O.W.L.s began for Albus and his fellow fifth-years, which only served to put them in a grouchier mood; most of them would scarcely see a ray of it that day. Jezabel met he, Rose and Ryan in the common room to wish them luck before they began their slow march toward certain death.

"Mum's going to murder me," said Rose in a hollow voice. "I'm going to get all D's, and Mum's going to shave my head, chop me up into tiny morsels and feed me to-"

"Will you stop that?" Albus snapped. "I'm trying to remember what Mars being particularly bright means!"

She did not seem to consider that overly taxing. "Think you've got it rough? I keep forgetting why all those coloured pictures show up on a television screen! It's not as simple as a moving portrait, you know!"

When both walked into the Great Hall for a crumb of breakfast, still debating whether Muggle Studies or Divination would provide the more strenuous exam, the sight that greeted them was a welcome boost of cheer.

"Oh goodness," said Jezabel from behind them, face slackening. "Professor Peele, she's returned!"

Many students - Ravenclaws, in particular - had gathered around the Defence professor to welcome her back from the hospital, and she seemed to be doing her best to ignore the fuss they were making. Albus, for his part, gave her a small wave, which she returned by way of a nod and a wink. It seemed to him that she was significantly paler than he recalled.

"Today can't be all bad," said Jezabel hopefully, perhaps trying to strengthen their collective resolve. "See?"

"That's all right for her," grumbled Rose. "And it's really wonderful that she's okay - I mean that. Still... oh, I just know I'm going to flunk right out of here!"

"Enough," said Albus. "Y'know, I think Jez has the right idea, here - if our teacher can take an Avada Kedavra and come out the other side of it, we ought to be able to suffer through some old test."

To watch her reaction, one might think Albus had just questioned her parentage. "Some old test? Some old TEST?!"

o o o

By the evening meal two days later, everyone sitting their fifth- and seventh-year examinations was ready for them to be over and done with. Unfortunately, most of them had at least another week's worth of test after test ahead of them - a prospect that caused Albus's stomach to churn like the stew he was stirring distractedly.

"Oh, for Peverell's sake," James sighed, reaching over and forcibly removing the spoon from his hand. "You're an embarrassment, you are. Just chomp down hard, dig your heels in and give it hell! You'll be out the other side before you know it."

"Easy for you to say," Rose replied for him. "You've done this before - this is the worst we've ever been worked over by the teachers! My brain feels like an empty sponge that's been used and wrung out over and over for decades!"

"You mean it isn't?" Ryan quipped feebly, able to do little more than sip at his pumpkin juice.

"Let's get out of here, then," whispered Jezabel. "P-perhaps stretching your legs will...?"

For a moment, Albus continued to stare into the murky depths of his bowl. Then, shrugging, he said, "Why not? My appetite's not coming back any time soon."

Rose glanced at the last of her Pumpkin Pasty, then grabbed it as they stood and moved along to the entrance hall, Ryan bringing up the rear as if he were an afterthought.

"Bloody O.W.L.s!" Rose burst out furiously through the vestiges of her pasty. "What are we supposed to gain from this, I ask you? Squeezing all our knowledge from every pore until we curl up into the foetal position and beg for sweet-"

"Oop!"

"Crap- OW!"

Albus pushed himself back up to a sitting position, momentarily confused as to how an unremarkable walk toward the stairs had become a trip to the hard, cold floor. It did nothing to clarify matters when he saw the sickly, pouchy features of Genevieve Nott hovering directly above him.

"W-watch where you're going, you git!" she screamed, tears falling from her eyes onto his cheeks as she scrambled to her feet and fled, tearing up the staircase before he could react any further.

"Eh?" was the best he could manage. Rose was not vastly more articulate.

"That was special."

Albus had scarcely enough time to regain his own footing before Scorpius Malfoy came charging up from the dungeons, slightly out of breath. When he noticed their group, he stopped short.

"What are you looking at?" he spat at Albus, avoiding Rose's gaze specifically - perhaps because the haughty smirk on her face would make the boldest of men feel burning shame just after an apparent squabble. "Never done any running yourself, I suppose?"

"Wh- what's wrong w-with Genevieve?" asked Jezabel, shifting her feet tentatively.

"Genevieve? What business is it of yours?" Those cold, grey eyes narrowed as they swept over her, lip curling slightly. "Blood traitor." And he resumed pursuit of his Housemate.

"D'you get the feeling," began Ryan as he took a step toward where they had both disappeared, "that we're missing out on some interesting details?"

Two of the others shrugged, but Jezabel sighed sadly. "This is still about me. About her and Atticus and Tristessa being shunned because of me. I- I'm sure of it."

Ryan laughed derisively. "Serves them right, I say. You'd think something like mercilessly torturing your fellow students would fall well outside the realm of sensible activities, wouldn't you?"

"Jezabel," Albus began, but she held up a thin hand. It took her a moment to gather her courage, as it seemed she'd prefer not to confront him.

"I know what you're going to say: th-that I shouldn't care, because they were at fault and they earned these consequences. But in truth, Atticus didn't actually participate, and the w-worst thing Genevieve did was stop me r-running away. Perhaps they deserved to be punished, but this... it really is like being drawn and quartered for neglecting to do the washing."

No one spoke as they followed her slowly up the stairs, but before they had reached the third floor, Rose's feelings on the matter came tumbling out - and it appeared they had been brewing for some time.

"You have to stop this! You have to stop feeling sorry for the stupid Slytherins, because all they've ever done for you is shove you down, or- or belittle you, or nearly send you the way of the buffalo! They don't deserve this? You bet your knickers! What they truly deserve is to have every last thing they did to you reflected back on themselves - tenfold!"

Albus glanced sideways at Jezabel, but she only looked as shocked as he felt. "Rose-"

"No, I'm not finished!" Her cheeks were flushed, both fists taught and trembling. "It makes me sick to watch you sympathise with them, because if anybody's got a right to show them nothing but open hostility, it's you! Why don't you want every last one of them rounded up and locked away in Azkaban? How can you be so damn forgiving?!"

Both Albus and Ryan gawped at their redheaded compatriot, unsure if they should approach her or find adequate cover before she combusted. When he stole another look at her, Albus found Jezabel's lip was now trembling, her eyes wide.

"I- I'm sorry," she began, a hand drifting toward her mouth for no reason. "They- I just- well, I've known them for ages, and- and they're not bad people, they just-"

"No!" growled Rose madly. "No, they really are! They're completely devoid of morality and you know it!"

"Albus," she whispered to him directly, taking great, shuddering breaths as if trying to hold herself together. "I- d-do you- what-"

"Shh," he soothed, squeezing her bony shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner; this was more difficult to manage when trying not to shout at someone else. "You don't have to answer that."

"What on earth's the matter with you?" said Ryan, shaking his head slowly. "Have you been sneaking Firewhiskey into the school or something?"

"I just-" Rose's eyes began to well up. "All those scars... and you still... I can't stand it, and it's not even me they've been treating like filth all these years! H-how can you still make allowances for their horrible, horrible behaviour?"

Albus was seconds from drawing his wand on his own cousin when Jezabel stepped toward her, swallowed hard and placed a hesitant hand on her cheek. "Rose..."

"Stupid O.W.L.s," she choked, still as a statue. "Stretching my nerves so th-thin that I'm flying off the handle at my own friends. I hate this!"

Jezabel laughed wetly. "I don't want you to pity me, okay? I- those scars are old, I've forgotten what most of them were from. They're not yours to bear."

"But we should have been there! Someone should have stopped it all long before now, and- and you have so many, and all you've ever done was read your books and try not to get snuffed between classes!"

"P-please, Rose, don't take this on. I'm perfectly fine; happiest I've ever been, in fact. Now I have people I can care about, and who care about me - and I'm overjoyed that you do! But don't make it your personal mission to balance the scales for anything that happened in my past, okay? All it does is reopen the wounds and make them feel fresher. So please... let sleeping dogs lie? For me?"

Only faint snifflings could be heard in that section of Hogwarts for several minutes. No one else knew what to say, for both Jezabel and Rose had covered quite a lot in so few words. Then Albus cleared his throat and said, "Ryan, would you, er... take Rose up to the common room and get her some tea if you can? I'd like to talk to Jezabel for a minute."

He nodded uncomfortably, and though Rose threw his arm off the first time he placed it around her shoulders, she did not the second. Albus watched them go for a time before turning to Jezabel. "Hmm."

"Yes... fairly intense."

"Let me ask you something," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Have you really forgotten where you got most of your scars?"

"Of course not." Her tone was regretful and expression pained as she leaned against the wall. "Some of them, yes, but... the rest are specific, haunting memories. Memories of times I overstepped my bounds and was punished most severely for it."

He nodded. "Then I owe you for keeping that from Rose. You're a good friend."

"Is that what it is?" she asked him earnestly. "If you're lying to protect them, it's still lying, isn't it? Even lies of omission-"

"You know, I agree with her to a certain degree: you don't have to be the whipping boy. Er, girl, I mean! Urgh, if only Rose could phrase it like that instead of trying to blow your head off with sound waves alone..."

"You really think I worry too much?"

He shifted uneasily, pretending to find his shoelace fascinating. "A little. I mean, it's a commendable thing mostly, that you care, but it... it's like you were telling Rose a moment ago. You're taking too much weight on your shoulders without realising there's enough to go around, and you should let others handle a bit of it."

She seemed to ponder this as Albus ran a hand through his thick, unruly mop, wondering if there was a way he could handle some of it himself. He was still lost in thought when she said, "Maybe you're right. But... but it seems to me that if I take on as much as I can tolerate, it will make the load lighter for everyone else, right? That's how one should live one's life: shoulder as many burdens as you can, and hope your fellows do the same. That way, it's never too hard on any one person. That's fair, isn't it?"

Such a simply stated philosophy of life hit Albus like a tonne of bricks. When he saw her eyebrows raising at him, he smiled. "Yeah, I suppose it is. The only problem is, not everyone sees it the way you do."

"No, they don't," she conceded, frowning. "But that's what my father always says: 'Carry your own weight, even if your neighbour doesn't.' Maybe not everyone agrees with him, but I can't help that; it's how I want to live."

He began to nod, but it slowly became a shake. "Then why are you trying to put Rose off doing the same thing? What's fit for the goose is fit for the... er, other goose."

Jezabel laughed quietly. "Quite the turn of phrase, there. And I see how you mean, but... my scars are not her demon to fight. Yours, either, for that matter."

"Can't we help relieve a bit of pressure? You can-"

"No," she said firmly, startling herself into silence. Albus waited for her to clear her throat and continue in a softer voice. "Thank you, Albus, I appreciate that more than you could imagine, but... n-no. That yolk belongs to myself and no one else. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, much less my friends."

No thought had finished forming before she strode quickly from the spot and up a nearby staircase, arms folded tightly to her chest; he didn't even have time to call out to her before she was most likely out of earshot.

"Why?" he whispered. "Why does she insist on closing herself off from everybody? Does she have to be so difficult?"

"Nature of the beast," remarked a portrait of a rotund wizard in Slytherin colours. "Go figure women, am I right, lad?"

Albus scarcely spared him a glance. "Oh, get out of it."

"Hmph!" The man scowled. "Don't know why I bother proffering my wisdom to the youth of today. All got maggots in their ears, I say."

END Chapter Forty-Five