Chimaera of Judgement



CHAPTER FORTY-SIX: Unseasonably Chill

The temperature was far below normal for June on a dark Wednesday morning during Albus Potter's second week of O.W.L.s. For all their fretting and cramming, the mental strain that bled into physical, he was sure he'd fared more or less well in all his subjects (save Divination, which no amount of optimism could convince him he'd managed anything higher than an A). Only Potions remained, which he and Rose would be sitting that afternoon. The thought seemed to put Rose on edge, but Albus was going into this with his head held high.

"Lucky Albiekins," she shot at him nastily as she poured over her Potions textbook over breakfast. "Dryden's pet. All you need do is smile and you'll net yourself an O."

"Don't be thick," Lily admonished from nearby. "Even if Dryden favours him, it'll have little impact on his mark; Ministry wizards will be judging his performance."

"Too true," Jezabel agreed, and James nodded along with her. This didn't seem to make Rose feel any better. Albus was about to laugh at her expression when he noticed the post owls making their way through the Great Hall - and as he'd hoped, a medium-sized package was nearing them.

"Thanks," he said flatly when it knocked his pumpkin juice to the floor, narrowly missing his lap.

"Shouldn't Hagrid be doing something about their aim?" Rose snapped. "Every single time, our breakfast gets trodden in, or else flattened. It's a disgrace!"

"Whatcha got there?" Ryan asked keenly. "Tell me it's powdered dragon claw - cor, I'd trade my left-"

"It's not," Albus scoffed. "And never you mind."

They all looked at him expectantly, but he simply tucked it away in his bag and turned a deaf ear to their pleadings.

Professor Abbott mostly let her students chatter or else study in class, as their examinations in her subject were now behind them. Albus exploited this opportunity to badger Rose into confirming a few plans.

"We're going to look tapped."

He shrugged, sitting back and setting down his textbook. "I know, but... well, how else would you go about it?"

"You're making a molehill into a mountain range," she insisted. "Just hand it over and say, 'Enjoy in good health'."

"No, no, no! After everything? I really don't think so - and I don't think the meaning will translate if we don't do it this way."

"See?" she laughed, watching Professor Abbott apparently press Ryan for an indication of how well he'd done in his Transfiguration O.W.L. "An explanation is needed - which means the whole idea was needlessly complicated from the beginning. Told you as much."

His patience was wearing thin. "Fine. It's needlessly complicated, and you think I'm a git. Are you going to do it anyway?"

"Of course I am," she said airily. "Just making my protests known."

He scowled at her, only resisting the urge to hex her because she hadn't refused to participate. "Duly noted. Now, do you remember what a bezoar does?"

o o o

"Lily said you wanted to meet me here?"

Not for the first time did Rose glance at Albus as if she'd much prefer he binned the entire plan and claimed their intentions were to hold a makeshift Gobstones tournament instead. However, the mild and pleasant smile on her face did not betray her true emotions. Albus silently thanked her for being so understanding.

"Hey, Jezabel," he said. "Got something for you."

Her dark eyes flicked back to the corridor for a moment, as if calculating an escape route, before she let the tapestry fall closed behind her. "Oh? What is it?"

Though the phrase 'enjoy in good health' flashed through his mind, he opted for a simple "Here."

It took a few seconds for her to move beyond staring at the lumpy package in her hands, and another minute atop that for her to work the strings loose and open it. Once she had...

"Yep," Rose said in a low voice. "It's a Grandmum original, all right, down to the garish colouring."

"Shh!" Albus hissed at her.

"Um... it's a sweater," Jezabel said confusedly. "Er, I mean- thank you, it's quite lovely, but- I'm sorry, I don't understand. Why are you giving it to me?"

"Perhaps this'll help."

Jezabel seemed horrified beyond words for a moment as they jerked their robes over their heads, but once she'd seen they were clothed underneath she relaxed and focused. "Ahh... you have them, as well?"

"Happy Birthday, Jezabel," said Rose, unable to stop herself. "You've just been Weasley-Sweatered."

"But it's n- not... oh, Albus," she sighed, frowning at him. "I told you, you needn't get me a thing. Why would you go-"

"It's got a 'J' on it," he headed her off. "And I asked Grandmum to make it in red and green, y'know, because of the dual-House thing, and-"

"Right," Rose laughed. "And now it's Christmassey."

"-and your skirt," he continued over her. "The one you were wearing on the Express, remember?"

For a long moment, nobody spoke. Rose's lips were pursed, as she was most certainly exercising more restraint than she ever had before in their lives. Jezabel, however, was staring mutely at her gift as if unsure it were real. Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, he took the approach he'd been saving for plan B.

"You don't have to, y'know, wear it or anything. Most of the family gets them and they end up in the bottom of our trunks, or-"

"Told you she wouldn't get it," Rose hissed.

"Shut up, Rose."

"She's not a Weasley," she continued doggedly, folding her arms over her chest. "Pushing such a ghastly artifact off on someone outside the family is sheer cruelty. Mind you, they are toasty, but to be caught dead in-"

"You shouldn't have."

The words stirred hope in Albus's chest, but when he saw the particular brand of tears in her eyes, it ceased to stir. "Jez-"

"No, y-you- no. No, Albus, you shouldn't have." And as easily as that, she disappeared through the tapestry.

Rose blinked. "Merlin."

It was all Albus could do to keep from punching someone square in the jaw - and at the moment he might not have minded at all that Rose was the only target in sight. "She hated it. Why didn't I listen to you? I could see it in her eyes, she wanted to throw it right back in my face."

"She hated something," she conceded. "But... that was an awful lot of reaction for such a small thing. Sorry Al, but it looks like you've given the lead balloon."

o o o

Albus and Rose went back to studying, but his heart was no longer in it. Though he hadn't been sure she'd enjoy the sweater as much as he'd hoped, her very evident hatred of it baffled him. At worst, he'd expected pity and disappointment in her eyes as she was polite enough to thank him for it, privately planning to burn it at the first chance. For some reason, however, she looked almost angry with him. Why? What false move had he made?

"Tart up, Al," Rose gusted after she finally coaxed this from him. "You gave her a present that only reminds her of how twisted her own family life is."

"That's not what I-"

"It very clearly did, though. Meanwhile, here we are, the widespread Potter-Weasley amalgum, gathering round a bonfire every Christmas and laughing it up. I reckon her Yule was spent locked away in her own room, reading through her seventh year curriculum."

Slowly, Albus began to nod as he soaked this up. "You think that's what all this is about?"

"Bet you a Sickle."

"Done. I'd gladly pay it if only to find out for sure."

o o o

Albus's palms were sweating as he waited in the small antechamber for what seemed like the thousandth time, waiting for what he hoped would be one of his easiest examinations thus far. What were they going to demand of him? He went over the ingredients and steps for all the potions they'd brewed over the past year in his head, remembering clearly his mistakes and how he'd corrected them. Suddenly, his mind blanked - what was monkshood again? When he saw Catherine Orchard stumble over her own feet as she hurried toward the door, he realized his time had come.

He needn't have worked himself up over it. Minutes into his examination, he knew he had it sewn up; the Befuddlement Draught was more or less on par with the one he'd brewed earlier in the year, though he suspected he'd added a pinch too much sneezewort. However, even if it were true he more than made up for it with a model Draught of Peace, which the excitable young Ministry witch sampled and immediately sat back, a serene, transported expression on her face.

"Mmm, yes, well done, young man," she sighed, dimples appearing in her cheeks as she grinned at him and flicked her wand at his cauldron. "Evanesco. You're dismissed."

"Whew," he told Ryan Macmillan once he'd found him out in the corridor, resisting a strong urge to do a handspring across the entrance hall. "Thought I was going to sweat straight through my robes."

"I may have," he grunted, running a hand through his hair. "What a nightmare! Still, glad to have done with all of this 'til next term. Oh, it'll be grand to actually sleep tonight."

"Know how you mean. Seems like Puerilis there doesn't feel at all proud of his performance." Albus nodded over at where Logan was slumped against a random stretch of wall, clutching his stomach as if his lunch no longer liked its new habitat. Thinking back to how he felt less than an hour ago, he sympathised.

Ryan let out a blast of laughter. "Oh, I'd wager he isn't. Bad enough he had to suffer through his practical with old Lewis in the same room, they set him the old Befuddlement, and he botched it beyond all recognition. Didn't you hear the bang?"

"What bang?" His eyes went wide; he'd been too engrossed in recalling everything he'd ever learned to listen for any sounds from the next room. "You don't mean it exploded!"

"Like Tunguska. They were still trying to Tergeo a load of bluish muck off the walls when I was called in." As he sighed, the impish grin on his face faded to a hollow look. "The bloke asked me to do an Invigoration Draught, but he didn't act at all invigorated - and between you and I, he could do with a teaspoonful in his daily regime. Bit peaky."

"Really?" Now that the stress of it all was far, far behind them (at least until the owls delivered their marks over the summer), he settled in for a healthy exchange on what now had to be his best subject. "Did you remember to add-"

They were cut short by Atticus Malkin pushing his way roughly between them as he headed for the steps into the dungeons, cheeks flushed.

"Atticus, wait!"

When they turned, Genevieve Nott and Scorpius Malfoy were bearing down on them with incredible speed. Acting before he could think, his wand was out and pointed right at Scorpius's throat. "Hold it!"

"Put that away, Potter!" he snapped, though he at least had the decency to divert his attention to his would-be attacker. "You're likely to curse yourself, and anyone else in the room!"

"If anyone's guilty of shoddy spellwork, it's the three of you!"

Glancing over Scorpius's shoulder, he saw Dryden bearing down on all four of them. With a frightened squeak, Genevieve managed to slip through them and make for the first floor, where Albus suspected she might end up commiserating with Moaning Myrtle.

"Sir, please!" Scorpius pleaded, and the tiny spot of colouring that had returned from Albus's interruption faded again from his features. "We did our absolute best, really, it's just been such a trying year, what with all-"

"I didn't care to hear your excuses before, and neither have I developed an unhealthy curiosity for them since!" the man thundered, crooked nose wrinkling up as if Scorpius was hiding dragon dung in his pockets. "How can you shame not only your Potions Master, but your Head of House with this unprecedented level of ineptitude?! I looked on as Malkin put an orchid in his Shrinking Solution! Imagine, fouling up a Shrinking Solution in your O.W.L.s! And Malfoy, if I ever hear you mixed up your pomegranate juice and salamander blood again-"

"Yes, sir, of course!" the boy kowtowed, actually dipping his head subserviently. "I only- well, Genevieve didn't mean to use a toad liver past its expiry, there was no time for her to run and find a fresh-"

"Silence!" After several quick, sucking breaths through his flared nostrils, their Potions Master seemed to recover a bit of stability. "I ought to set this trio of trolls detentions through their sixth year for such abysmal benightedness, but alas, I daresay their results shall be punishment enough. Congratulations to you, Potter." The switching of gears caused Albus to nearly drop his wand. "Carmina tells me you utterly sparkled in there. Glad to hear it."

And with that, he stormed out onto the grounds.

"Thought you were giving Genevieve the cold shoulder of late," Ryan said to Malfoy. "Sounds almost as if you were defending her honour. Spring has sprung, eh?"

"Keep your nose out, Macmillan," Scorpius growled, too deflated by his Head of House's tirade to properly ignore the Gryffindor. "She's had a bad enough time of it this year, hasn't she? And she's already mad enough at me without me snubbing her, as well. Mostly your fault anyway, Perfect Prefect Potter the Potions Prodigy."

Albus felt his eyebrows raise - both at the sudden accusation and the cringe-worthy alliteration. "What?"

"Don't give me that innocent-baby-sucking-at-a-dummy song and dance." Now, he looked truly angry. "You think my ears don't work? It was you who tattled on her and the others, landed them in hot water. Just because they got together for a game of Scourge the Scurvy."

"You weren't there," Albus spat at him, dander instantly up. "You didn't see the deplorable things they were doing to-"

"No, I wasn't there! Why would I be? Flogging some reedy blood traitor within an inch of her life? Cor, it's a genuine shame I wasn't there to get bits of her on my shoes!" His white-blond head shook from side to side, thousand-yard stare directed toward the front doors. "Not sure what they were thinking... a bit of fun at a tea shop is one thing, but there comes a point when it's just... nauseating."

And on that note, Scorpius wandered toward the first floor, as if he hadn't truly comprehended that he was speaking to them at all.

"I'll be damned," Ryan remarked, which made Albus laugh half-heartedly. "A Slytherin thinks there's such a thing as too far?"

"Suppose it has to happen once in a-"

But again, they were interrupted by one of the Great Hall's double-doors slamming open. Albus had only intended to spare this the briefest glance, but when he saw Jezabel pelting their way, tears streaming down her cheeks, he became much more concerned.

"Hey, wait, wait!" he whispered urgently, catching her shoulders just before she could barrel past them and up the stairs. "What's going on?"

"Should have known, Albus," she choked out. "Should have kn-known I couldn't go out, couldn't be out!"

"Come again?"

A long, thin finger brushed past her nose hurriedly before she glanced up at him. "I haven't come that far at all, have I? My life is a treadmill, it's not- there's no real progress, just illusions of such, and I give in, I believe, which makes me weak, so weak and unready for-"

"Shhh," he soothed, stroking her shoulder and glancing at Ryan for help. Unfortunately, his bunkmate's face was full of discomfort and void of anything useful. "Take it easy, one step at a time. What's happened?"

"Nothing," she sighed, still sniffling. "Only... really be grateful when this term ends. And Professor Dryden- he- oh, I wish he'd get sacked!"

Perhaps Albus was distracted by such an unbridled burst of emotion from the queen of introverts; displaying the kind of deftness he'd have expected from a Snidget, one moment she was still crying with his hands on her shoulders, and the next he found she was halfway up the staircase. He couldn't remember sensing any movement between. It was only then he remembered she was still being stand-offish due to the sweater.

"What- that was- how did she-"

"Yeah," Albus muttered.

Ryan laughed harshly, still shaking his head. "Why in Merlin's name didn't you make her play the last game of the season in my place?! You'd have won it in seconds flat!"

o o o

Though Albus asked nearly everyone in his House, no one had seen hide nor hair of Miss Skirrow the rest of the evening. This began to unnerve him after a few hours, but he couldn't convince Rose to muster the slightest worrisome frown.

"She's always disappearing like that," Rose scoffed into her Butterbeer. James had produced a goodly stash of drinks and snacks from nowhere, and all the fifth- and seventh-years were gratefully ploughing through them and laughing all memory of daunting examinations away. Even Barty was permitting himself a short break from demanding they pick up all their sweet wrappers, curled up near the fireplace with a cup of hot tea and a book of some sort. "Or have you forgotten? Sure, she's been doing better ever since you took a stroll down Memory Lane and cleared out the Mentacles, but it doesn't mean she's an entirely different person. She'll come round."

"But what did Dryden do?" he insisted, swatting away the Golden Snitch that James had nicked and brought to their common room. He also had a sneaking suspicion he or someone else had enchanted it to be rather fond of his younger brother, as he couldn't seem to find a moment's peace away from its fluttering. "Had to have been something truly awful for her to fall apart like that."

Only now did Rose's euphoria seem to flag. "Granted, yes, I would like to get him alone in a dark room for a few minutes... but still, I say you're worried over nothing. Jezabel will tell us all about it herself when she's ready, and it's probably no great travesty."

"You'd better be right about this." Finally, he snaked a hand out and caught the pestering gold ball, and he heard a few Gryffindors whoop and clap from the other side of the common room. Maybe they thought him a showoff, but the wings kept passing too near his nose, and he didn't fancy sneezing for the rest of the night.

It was this that caused him to grow weary of the celebration; though the remainder of term would be light and carefree, he could not ignore the fact that the rest of his life would continue its complex, aggravating march in the face of it. Toasting their health and playing Exploding Snap somehow felt disrespectful.

"I'm going down to Hagrid's," he announced suddenly, standing up and tossing the Snitch he'd been holding onto the table, where it bounced off and flew away. "Want to come?"

Rose glanced over at where Elizabeth Larkins and Martin Finnegan were laughing at something in a book, then back at the drawn features of her cousin. "Yeah, all right. Bet he'll want to hear how we've done on our O.W.L.s."

o o o

"Now she says she wants children," Hagrid grunted around a mouthful of scone. "Well, I says back, 'Olympe, tha'll be about the biggest - and I do mean BIGGEST mistake a bloke and a lady could ever make!'"

They had been in the tiny, warm hut for well over an hour, Albus knew. There was no clock nearby, and he wasn't wearing a watch, but he could feel the passage of time. The restlessness grew in his legs as he continued to worry over not only Jezabel, but whether or not it was only his students' lack of ability causing Professor Dryden to lash out at everything that moved.

"She says I'm scared o' th' responsibility, but pah! I look after hundreds o' children - sorry, you two - every day! But offspring o' me own..."

"Ahh, come on, Hagrid," Rose laughed. "You don't want a bouncing baby half-giant?"

"NO!" he boomed, setting down his tankard. "Heavens ter betsy, it was hard enough bein' one meself - and hell on my poor dad! Don' reckon it'd be wise forcin' another one o' me on th' wizarding world! Now, sure, if I knew it'd come out more like Olympe I'd be a bit more likely ter think abou' it, but there's no knowin', is there? Yeh can' control summat like tha', and I'll not take me chances!"

"Why do you keep talking like you're a hurricane?" Albus put in. "Everybody loves you. And Grawp, well, even he can be tolerated in small doses, and he's a full-blood giant!"

A colossal hand waved the words away, even as his cheeks reddened - though that may have been the brandy he'd slipped into his tea. "Ahh, yeh do go on. Even so, I got nowhere ter raise 'im, even if I did get th' idea in my thick head I could. Nah - think I'm better off livin' a bachelor's life, seein' my lady friend off an' on when I can. Thinkin' abou' movin' in with her, or visitation rights an' the lot'd on'y muddle up th' parts of me head that're still clear!"

It was another fifteen or twenty minutes from then that Hagrid announced he had to go into the forest and sort out some mess or other with the giant spiders that lived there. On the way up to the castle, Albus confided in Rose that he was feeling a bit down, and she nearly made him re-ingest the words.

"Can't you perk up for a minute or two?!" she demanded. "We're free until the start of sixth year! Ryan's not stuck in a monocle, nor is it stuck to my face! No new students have died! Sure, Jezzy's in a right state, but I bet when she resurfaces we'll all have a laugh and life as we know it will shift back toward normalcy. Now stop bellyaching!"

"Fine," he grunted, pulling a Fizzing Whizbee from his bag and stuffing it into his mouth. "Be that way."

"Aren't you going to share?" She frowned when he didn't answer. "Why are you carrying your bag around, anyway? What use have we got for schoolbooks?"

"No schoolbooks in here," he said with a shrug. "Just... got some things in here I'd like to keep on me at all times now."

Her arms were crossed; he knew she'd react this way. "Such as?"

"Such as your old Extendable Ears," he admitted. "You never know..."

"I'll give you that," she said with an air of superiority. "What else?"

"Oh, get out of it," he ordered, shoving a Fizzing Whizbee in her hand. "Useful, see?"

"That's what I figured; mostly sweets. So predictable, Al."

"Shut up."

And they were pushing open the doors into the castle at last. Neither of them expected to see the house elf sprinting from the dungeons, headed straight for the kitchen corridor. Glancing at each other briefly, Albus called out, "Hey, wait up!"

The elf skidded to a halt. With a start, he put the bulbous nose with a memory and saw it was the same one Professor Longbottom had called for so very long ago. "No, no, sirs, I can't be waiting, I- must be going back to the kitchens, it's-"

"What's wrong?" Rose said gently, stooping slightly. "Why didn't you just Apparate?"

"What? Oh..." The diminutive creature looked embarrassed now. "Well, what we is seeing, guess we was forgetting about magic completely... ooh, it was terrible, awful! But there's cleaning to be done, and we must be getting back, we must!"

She raised a hand to snap her fingers; Albus knew that was how they performed the non-wizarding magic that teleported them from place to place. "Wait, wait! Before you go... can you tell me what you saw?"

"Dreadful scene... too dreadful, don't think we should be telling anybody..."

"Spit it out already," Rose snapped.

With one fearful glance about the entrance hall, as if expecting to see a disapproving Headmistress lurking in the shadows, she leaned in and said, "Well, it's the Potions Master, sir and ma'am. He's been... killed!"

END Chapter Forty-Six