Chimaera of Judgement



CHAPTER FIFTY: Heirlooms

"Gobsmacked" may be the best word for Atticus Malkin's reaction. His sunken eyes and mouth made three wide O's as he gazed around in wonder at the complete disappearance of one of his captives. For a moment, he continued to stand there, clutching at his wand and struggling to understand how it could have happened right under his nose. Then, he strode toward the spot Albus had occupied a moment ago.

"Vanished... but you can't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds." Teeth gritted, he whirled back to grasp Lewis by the lapels. "You did this!"

"Wh-what?!" Lewis stammered. "No, how c-could I?! I'm wandless!"

"Quiet!" Eyes burning with rage, he grasped the tyet in one hand and barked aloud needlessly, "Peeves! Stand guard at the door! The rest of you, search the room! He's got to be hiding here somewhere!"

Albus watched in dark amusement as Caspian also glanced around, trying to figure out how he'd managed it - though glad that at least one of them had escaped alive. Then, turning to the task at hand, he searched through his pockets as he crouched beneath the very Cloak of Invisibility their imprisoner had scoffed at. Three wands that belonged to Rose, Jezabel and Caspian - but which was which? There were two long ones, and he recognised the reed as Rose's - there were faint bite marks where she'd been foolish enough to chew on it during their first year with disastrous results. Between the other long wand and the shorter, he couldn't be sure of ownership...

But as he put the other two down and held the shorter wand, he felt a rush of madness, followed by a pang of sadness. Staring at the willow wood in his hand, impossibly, he knew it belonged to Jezabel.

The enemy had his wand. His cloak was all that stood between him and certain death, and Caspian was incapacitated by his equally-incapacitated cousin. Only Jezabel, curled up and sobbing on the floor like a defeated victim, could be of any real help - if there was any help for them at all.

Slowly, painstakingly, he crept across the floor, crouching as low as possible to make sure Malkin couldn't see his feet - though he was of no notable height. He held the wand out in front of him as he placed the other two in his pocket, praying silently to whatever gods might be listening that he got the chance to return those as well.

When the Grey Lady whooshed by him, blowing the cloak up and over his shoulders, he realized their answer must have been "fend for yourself". He froze to the spot, watching as Malkin eventually turned in his direction.

"There! Seize the lurker!"

Albus dived out of the way as both the Bloody Baron and the Fat Friar pelted down on his position, dropping the wand into Jezabel's ample hair as he rolled to his feet and fled. Unfortunately, this put him much farther from his cloak, but to have gone back for it would have been suicide.

"I don't know where you learned your Disillusionment Charm," Malkin laughed as Albus found himself huddling behind a battered suit of copper armor, "but I suggest brushing up before trying it again!"

He hadn't even noticed the cloak; perhaps it did blend in with the scattered and sundry contents of the room. A chance presented itself; Albus pulled out Rose's wand, drew a bead on Malkin from beneath the shoulder joint of the armour, and whispered fiercely, "Expelliarmus!"

Nothing. That is, he felt a slight hum from the wand when he spoke the incantation, but the spell did not manifest.

"That hardly seems fair."

Unfortunately, Professor Binns was floating overhead when he muttered this to himself, and turned glowing pink eyes on him. At that instant, he heard Atticus shout in triumph.

"He's yours, Binns - go on!"

To his astonishment, Binns actually took aim with his own wand - he'd been the one to wrest it from him all along - and shouted, "STUPEFY!"

The red light hit him directly in the chest. It was a curious sensation, being knocked backward by the full force of a spell intended to remove consciousness from the victim... and yet retaining grip on the waking world.

"No!" Malkin shouted, unable to stop himself. "That's- there's no way, you should be flat on your back!"

Binns was still hanging there, wand held out, having received no further orders from his mind-blown master. Resisting the peal of laughter that threatened to leap from his throat, he snatched it back easily, took only the barest moment to switch Rose's from his wandhand for his own and plant his feet firmly, then shouted, "Punctum Pupugi!"

Immediately, Malkin began to twitch, shrinking away from the fight as he swatted his hands at invisible assailants. Meanwhile, as had happened last time his attentions were strained, the ghosts seemed to surface from his control and gaze stupidly at the situation. Albus didn't have much time; he first found his cloak on the floor and threw it about himself, stowed Rose's wand in his pocket, then went into his bag again. Wandwork alone couldn't win this for them; didn't he have anything in there of use?

Then he did find a few things.

"Enough!" Malkin was screaming as he rid himself of the jinx's effects. "And where have you gone again?! I'm through playing hide-and-seek, do you hear?!"

Albus readied himself to redouble his efforts, but he found himself sidetracked by every ghost (save Myrtle, whom was still occupied within Rose's body) taking to just above Malkin's head and zooming around in a great vortex as they had many months ago in front of the entire student body. Again, Albus found himself stunned at the tenacious grip he held on their reigns; they truly did whatever he wished. Of course, it wasn't long before they moved with such speed and force that his cloak was whipped away a second time, but this time he had prepared himself, and was ready with his next move.

"An Invisibility Cloak!" Malkin gasped, momentarily surprised before his face reverted to its former fury. "Naturally! Ah, but to have a father so wealthy and renowned that he can afford such-"

"Obscuro!"

Malkin, however, had also seemed to realise Albus was no pushover, for a quick "Protego!" kept the jinx from finding its mark. "You are aggravating! SECTUMSEMPRA!"

Albus's eyebrows knotted for the briefest moment as he wondered at this heretofore unknown spell, but the next instant it became abundantly clear as the front of his robes ripped wide open, and he felt a slight pain as it impacted with his chest. Worse still, the strap of his bag had been caught in the line of fire, and it fell to the floor beside him.

"Why aren't you bleeding?!" Malkin demanded. "Scorpius told me that was sure to make quick work of anyone! And why couldn't my Stunner find its way to knocking you out cold?!"

"Guess I've just got skin too thick for your bumbling spellwork," he laughed. It was the truth, but the skin he referred to wasn't attached to his body. Trying not to favour his vest or else lead Malkin to figuring him out, he began to circle. "Now... let Rose go, or I'll unleash my wrath."

The boy wasn't at all impressed. "Goodness, but you sound like a Greek tragedy. You haven't any wrath, or anything else to unleash except a handful of cute, second-year jinxes. What makes you think you stand a chance?"

A well-placed Stunner or Impediment Jinx would probably make short work of him, but Malkin's guard was up now and he'd have a rough time of lowering it. A few distractions would help. Grinning, he pulled a tiny potted plant from his pocket.

"My Uncle George's shop, that's what."

"Y-" But Malkin found himself distracted by the eruption of an eight-foot tall, fifteen-foot wide brick wall between himself and his opponent. "What in blazes?!"

There wouldn't be a wealth of time between this and when Malkin found his way around - or through - the Wall-Flower. He wasted no time in dropping a Decoy Detonator to the ground, prodding it with his foot to scurry into the shadows of armaments and tchachka. Then he redoubled his grip on his wand, crouched low, and waited.

"Look out, Albus!" Caspian shouted.

"Deprimo!"

A man-sized hole appeared in the wall a foot to his left. The moment Malkin's head and wand appeared, he popped a small purplish candy into his mouth by force. As he'd been hoping, this variety of attack had not been anticipated, and the boy gagged on it.

"Eat that!" Albus said, unable to resist.

"URGH!" he said aloud, spitting it out at his feet. "What are you doing?! That's it - it's time I took the bull by the... what?!"

Ants the size of gerbils were now crawling all over his legs, attempting to find their way up and onto the rest of him. Horrified, he began swatting them off with his wand, though any first year could tell you that's a poor use of your primary wizarding tool. Albus leapt through Malkin's hole and found his way to Caspian and Rose.

"Can you think of a way I can get Myrtle out of her?!" he hissed.

"Not offhand," Caspian managed; Malkin had put Rose's hand over his mouth after he tried to warn him. "A Disarming Charm might work, but I hypothesise it would liberate me rather than the ghost!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Rose's hands did, in fact, fly away from Caspian; he suspected that if Malkin hadn't been distracted by the Anise Ants he would have set her after them again. Next second, Albus had put Caspian's wand into his hand. "Dodge the ghosts," he whispered. "And Rose, I guess. Maybe we won't be able to attack very often, but it's a lot more important that we avoid turning into marionettes!"

"Got it," Caspian breathed. "By the way... how'd you conjure a wall?"

There was no time to reply. Nearly-Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron were baring down, intent on robbing them of free will. Albus ran in one direction, Caspian in another. Where was Malkin? Still behind the wall? Desperate, Albus levitated a dented old goblet into a ghost, but it passed right through; how convenient that they were only solid when they needed to be!

"That's it!" Caspian cried from across the room, whirling in his direction. "Repello Phasmatis! Albus, try-"

Albus groaned as he watched the Fat Friar settle in on Caspian's body, taking control immediately. Once possessed, he casually tossed his wand into a rusty cauldron and dove headfirst into the very wall Albus had created.

"There," Malkin said, striding back out of the hole. "Now, if and when he might rid himself of the spirit, I doubt he'll be able to retain consciousness."

The thin trickle of blood coming from beneath the golden waves of hair contrasting with such a passive expression of obedience on the boy's face set Albus's own veins aflame. "You're mad. You're a sick, besotted-"

"Blah, blah, blah," Malkin finished for him. "Do you always make such painful mewling noises when cornered? Pathetic."

"Cornered, am I?" Albus shouted. "Repello Phasmatis!"

But instead of pointing his wand at Rose, he turned it on himself. A glow briefly enveloped his clothes, then faded.

"As if that would really work," Malkin scoffed, smiling a lopsided grin as he swept his hair back away from his eyes. "Nick?"

Sir Nicholas descended on him again, but just as his translucent hand came within a few inches of Albus's nose, he turned up, passing harmlessly over him. Even as Malkin cried out, beside himself, Albus turned his wand on Caspian and repeated the incantation - and it worked, a dim bluish glow enveloped his robes - but he remained possessed.

"Can't repel something that's already inside, Potter!" Triumphant, Malkin readied his wand for a new attack, advancing toward his adversary with a slow, determined pace. "You're all alone in this fight, now - and I'll just have to-"

"Repello Phasmatis!"

Malkin scowled when he saw Jezabel's prone form also glowing on the floor. "Very well, then, one-and-a-half against the governor of ghosts. I'm sure she'll be of immense help to you."

"What a git," Albus spat. "I'm glad your utmost form of enjoyment is belittling people, even when they've got you beat."

"How on earth do you mean?"

Albus grinned. "No matter how highly you perform, how much you learn, you know there will always be someone smarter than you, better at everything than you are. Someday, given time - or his death - you'll probably blow past Lewis there. Sadly, though, you'll never even hope to take the top spot."

"Of course I will!" Malkin shouted. "Look at what I've accomplished - something no one has since my ancestor! It was I who gathered all the pieces of the Chimaera of Judgement, I who stole the ring from the Hitchens blighter because I recognised its true purpose! It was I who discovered the final component in our very own Divination Tower, waiting for its rightful owner! Not a solitary witch or wizard has been able to control ghosts and force them to do their bidding in nearly two centuries! And right now?" He let out a bitter, contorted laugh. "I've got two of them sitting inside your dear friends, forcing them to stand at the ready and follow their leader into the heart of Hades if I wish! What can possibly compare?!"

"One-trick pony. So you figured out the sum of one equation, so what? That's not intelligence, that's theft and luck. But she'll always match your brain cell for cell, and you'll be found wanting."

"Who do y- do... ah." As he drew the conclusion, he glared down at Jezabel's form. "Well, what does it matter if she knows more than I? There will never come a day when she'll be able to put her knowledge to any real use. Besides, if I snuff her here and now, I'll never have to worry about it at all."

"Actually, I was talking about my Aunt," Albus snickered. "But either her or Jezabel will do. You're no competition for either mind. Gwydion Lahey has you beat, also, now I stop and think of it. And then there is Caspian, whom you could only best by slipping a spectre into him. Also, I seem to recall Professor Dryden saying you actually put an orchid in- Protego!" Albus yelped, knocking an unexpected spell up and away from him. "Tarantallegra!"

Without accompanying music, Malkin began a sort of frenzied two-step, struggling to maintain balance even though his legs shot in all directions. Albus also managed to laugh out "Orchideous!" and threw the resulting bouquet of flowers at the boy. These fell beneath his furiously working feet, causing him to slip and go down hard on his chin.

"Merlin's Y-Fronts, it looks like flowers may just be the death of you, Atticus."

As he spoke, Albus noticed Rose and Caspian shiver as if feeling a sudden chill. It only lasted a moment, but Atticus's fall and his still-uncontrolled legs distracted him sufficiently to loosen his control over the ghosts again. His mind raced, searching out a way to use this to his advantage, but he could think of no way to flush the ghosts out. By the time Malkin had cast Finite Incantatem and pushed to standing, Albus had only the time to ready himself for the next attack.

"Flagrate Velius!"

"Proteg-OW!"

Apparently, his Shield Charm was not prepared for this particular spell, or he had been a heartbeat too late. Burning erupted along his left bicep, and as he watched, the sleeve of his robes began to smoke and catch fire from the stripe of skin onto which Malkin had vented his rage. Working quickly, Albus put it out with an Aguamenti, but the damage was done and his flesh was screaming in pain.

"Haven't learned anything else, you say?!" Malkin's paroxysm belied how much Albus's words had truly cut through to his insecurities. "I've just proven that Famous-By-Association Potter is not entirely impervious to attack! Impedimenta!"

Sadly, Albus had taken a step away at the instant the spell was cast. Now he was on his backside, sucking at his teeth from the combined agony of burn and bruise. Albus made to undo the jinx and spring back up, to retaliate, but Malkin was baring down on him, wand levelled at his throat and eyes sparking.

"What say you now, eh?!"

Albus no longer wanted to mince words with his classmate. The already-futile claims that Malkin had done nothing more than stand by and watch as this ghastly form of Muggle torture was performed on the girl lying feet to his right, the single thing that had suspended Albus's feelings into mere dislike and pity, were gone. Now he hated Atticus Malkin, and considered him a subhuman monster.

"Too far."

Albus had been preparing to surrender and hopefully buy himself time to think up an alternate plan, but both he and Atticus turned to see Jezabel on unsteady feet, wand raised.

"What?" Malkin breathed, still in a state of surprise.

"Albus doesn't deserve to be Flagratattooed," she said in clipped tones. "You've gone too far."

"Jezabel," Albus began - and then she raised her head the barest amount, and from his position on the floor he caught a glimpse of the wild intensity in one of her eyes. Nothing they'd been through over the course of the year had brought that look into her face, and it silenced him.

"At every turn, I ignored it," she continued, voice growing in volume. "Ignored the warning signs of madness, of a grip on reality and sanity loosening ever so slightly over time. Perhaps I should have alerted Professor Nott, but I daresay he would have flayed me for opening my mouth."

"True enough," said Malkin uncomfortably, still unsure whether or not he should be worried about taking on two opponents impervious to his ghostly manipulations. "None other than purebloods were safe in his presence. I had to hide what I was especially w-"

"Your speech is over," she spat. "We've choked down word after word of your pretentious bile. Now, you will listen."

Albus gulped as he watched the weak, bitter smile overtake Jezabel's lips. If he had been a bit scared of Malkin, he was now utterly terrified of his own friend.

"I'm so inconsequential. No one ever takes note of my presence in the room, bothers to realise my ears are always open. Say, when muttering to themselves that they're fed up with the administration and their 'double standards', or that 'when I figure it out and complete the puzzle, they'll all get their comeuppance'. Why should it matter that Scurvy was there to hear it?"

"Fool," Malkin seethed. "I didn't care. And guess what? I wasn't wrong, it didn't matter. You never lifted a fin-"

"Silence!" Now her teeth were gritted, and her stance held no unsteadiness. "Every day, every week, every month, you plotted and schemed, writhed in pity for yourself over nothing. I've been a model student and unintrusive nobody whom my Housemates and House-Head spat upon, tormented, and ridiculed for no reason other than my parentage while you floated through classes, squeaking by with mediocre grades and laughing it up with your friends. And now, today, I've sat through a lecture on the towering tragedy that is the life of one Atticus Malkin! How unfair it is that he wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth! What a sad state that all of us haven't fallen on our knees at the sight of the coming Messiah - how we should have spotted the signs in the heavens!"

She took a few heaving breaths, and in the moment of quietude Albus quietly ended the jinx binding his legs to the floor; he wanted to be ready to act, no matter what the next moment brought. But neither he nor Malkin dared try and interrupt her, much less try any magic.

"And I cannot count the number of times I saw you crying alone in the common room at night, curled up into a chair and glaring into the fireplace, assuring yourself you'd come out on top one day. What, do you recall, did I do when I saw this?"

"How should I remem-"

"I approached you with a kind hand and a soothing word," she flung at the boy, lip curling. "Your response was typically a few insults and a backhand to one cheekbone or the other. And I was made to feel as worthless as you, by you. The Great And Powerful Atticus Malkin was above associating with the Muggle-born Slytherin."

"I never wanted your pity," he growled back. "It chafed, having a meaningless scab like you trying to comfort me. Like casting Expulso on a deck of Exploding Snap; it's not going to make it less volatil-"

"Why do you keep thinking I've initiated two-way discourse?! You are finished speaking!" Her head tilted back, and now both boys were given full view of the glow her eyes had taken on without aid of ghostly manifestation. How could tears be rolling down her cheeks when she had such a mask of doom etched into her features? "All these years, I tried to keep you from falling away, from descending into the pit of Dark wizardry. My efforts went not only unappreciated, but reviled. In the end, I find out my assessment was bang on; you're mad. Utterly crackers, and dangerous.

"And now... you've hurt Albus."

The transformation in her tones as she spoke this last sentence was remarkable. For an instant, Malkin's own fortitude seemed to gutter like a candle in the breeze, but then he redoubled his grip on his wand. "I have. And why not? He knows too much - has been a thorn in my side since I began using the Chimaera on unsuspecting castle-dwellers. I want him out of the picture."

Jezabel shrugged. "And I want him in it. So it comes down to this; do you concede to my wants... or do you go down fighting for yours?"

"Serpensortia!"

"Incendio," Jezabel said casually, burning the snake alive before it had a chance to land on the ground. "I'm sorry, I'd assumed if you sincerely believed in your principles you'd be making a real effort."

"Silencio!"

For a moment, Jezabel frowned as her thin fingers touched at her throat, but then she closed her eyes, smiled, and opened them again. Next instant, Malkin found himself hanging upside down in the air, limbs other than one ankle flailing in all directions.

As he hung there, Jezabel flashed a lopsided smile at Albus and pointed to her throat. Clumsily, he cast the countercurse to return her voice, and she nodded her thanks before shouting, "Sixth year, Malkin! I'm three terms ahead of you - roughly five ahead, by way of sheer knowledge! Why did you believe robbing me of my voice would leave me powerless?"

Then he was sprawled on the stone, pushing hastily to his feet as he wobbled. For the second time that day, he cried, "Sectumsempra!" However, this time he more or less found his target; a deep cut appeared on the very edge of Jezabel's right shoulder, also dropping a lock of hair to the floor. Though it flowed easily, it was small enough that she would likely not faint from anemia. In truth, this was not a product of Malkin's poor aim, but Jezabel's startlingly-quick reflexes.

"Owwie," she whispered mockingly. "Pain seems to be your favoured game. Let's play that, then. Venterefercio!"

Immediately Malkin was on the floor, arms wrapped around his abdomen, grunting as his eyes screwed up from a level of pain Albus was afraid to imagine.

"Concede," she barked. "Relinquish your control of the ghosts and allow us to capture you, take you to the teachers. Your punishment should fit the crime, but perhaps they'll find it in their hearts to show you mercy."

"Never!" He had to take several deep, settling breaths to force more words from his mouth, but eventually he managed, "Look there!"

Both Albus and Jezabel glanced around, and it took little time to find what he must have meant. Both swallowed when they saw both of Caspian's hands wrapped tightly around Rose's throat. She, of course, made no move to resist or escape.

"I'll strangle her," he gasped from the floor. "Or he will. The longer you torture me, the longer he'll hold on, and eventually... one less Weasley in the world. I wonder, will she really be missed? There are so many."

"Drop her," Albus ordered. "Now!"

"Not until this witch lets up on me!"

Jezabel seemed reluctant, but worry accompanied the anger in her eyes now. "I can't let you harm them. They're more than my friends... they're my family."

The brief glance she spared Albus, the way the corners of her mouth twitched down and her eyelashes fluttered, told him much, so very much. Every corner of his soul made a wish on the stars that this deadly confrontation cease to exist so he could discuss this, talk to her about how right she was, how much he agreed and rejoiced over it. But there was nothing for it; he could only hope he had the chance to revisit the issue later.

Rose's cheeks were turning blue. Sweat was rolling down Malkin's face. With a great swallow moving along her throat, Jezabel raised her wand and Malkin fell to his side, gasping for the breath that had been so hard to come by scant seconds before.

"There," she gusted, shaking like a leaf. "You're free. Now let Rose go."

"First, drop your Shield Charms," he ordered, laughing as he rolled to a crouch. "Albus put up defences against my ghosts. Let them in, and I promise Rosebud will live to annoy us all again."

An eyebrow lifted into her tangled locks. "That hardly waylays my fears."

"Take it or leave it; she's nearly passing on as it is."

"No."

Malkin's gleeful expression turned to one of outrage. "You can't be serious. She'll be a ghost herself in about one minute; act now, or I'll gladly snap her like a dry and brittle twig!"

"But I don't believe you," she hissed. "Because I know you'll keep doing this. You've stumbled upon a taste of power, and now your thirst has been awakened. Giving you control over myself and Albus will never sate it. I doubt anything will."

"You'll just have to take that chance," he replied, standing at last and pointing his wand at her. "Now, lower your shields, or the girl is no more. Final warning."

"And I'll give you a final warning," she said, voice quavering, eyes streaming. Though Albus had been both alarmed and invigorated by the sudden bottle Jezabel had seemed to find, he could see it was all but gone in the face of Malkin's threats. "Lay down your arms and your artifact, give yourself into custody, and I'll not do whatever I must to stop you." Her lip trembled. "Please, Atticus."

"'Please'?!" he laughed, grinning wider and wider as he paced toward her. "You're asking all nice and proper, are you?! Well, in that case, of course! By all means, spirit me away to Azkaban! Bah! Pathetic! Are you getting this message deep inside that Mudblood skull? I WILL NOT SURRENDER!" For the second time that day, the Slytherin boy demanded, "What say you NOW?!"

Jezabel again struggled to swallow. She looked down at Albus and the burn on his arm. She looked at Caspian's hands around Rose's neck. Then she raised her wand, let out a sob, and said in so grief-stricken a voice Albus could scarcely make it out, "Accio Flamberge."

The Summoning Charm came so unexpectedly that both Albus and Malkin gawped at her as if the chain of events had driven her to dementia. Due to his confusion, Albus only had the brief glint of steel in the torchlight to help him deduce what was about to happen, and turned his head at the last moment.

THUNK.

The squelching noise made his gorge roil and threaten to rise, even without visuals. Worse yet, a warm, thick droplet landed on the back of his hand - he didn't dare look to see what it was, but he couldn't keep his eyes from finding their way upward to Malkin, hoping against hope that the logical conclusion was in error.

Rivers of crimson poured down the front of the boy's robes and onto the floor. Albus didn't think he'd ever seen anyone so pale or so shocked before; Malkin staggered back, clutching down toward the swordpoint growing from the centre of his chest like a metallic weed and only serving to cut his fingers in the process. His wand lay on the floor, forgotten. Albus saw, out of the corner of his eye, Caspian and Rose break apart, staggering slightly as they hit the floor knee-first.

"Wh-what?" Malkin sputtered, a droplet of blood falling from his bottom lip. "No, this is... wrong..."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, staring directly into his eyes and watching them cloud over. "I'm so, so sorry, Atticus, I'm sorry. But you forced my hand."

A moment passed as the two Gryffindors who still retained control of their bodies watched Atticus stagger forward, clutching for them, seeking help. None came. He joined Rose and Caspian on the floor, one hand spread on the stone and the other working fruitlessly at the blade. Desperately, he rasped, "Baron! Pull... pull this out of m-"

"Accio Chimaera," Jezabel cast next, barely finding the strength to lift her hand and catch it when it flew from around his neck. The Bloody Baron, whom had been nearing them to obey the command, immediately halted. "They... can't save you anyway. None of- of us..."

And she fainted dead away, sinking to the floor as the self-appointed Governor of Ghosts also sagged downward, breathing his last.

END Chapter Fifty