Chimaera of Judgement

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR: Ties To The Future

The next morning, Albus awoke to find most of his bunkmates were already dressed and in the middle of packing. As long as he'd known them, only Caspian had ever bothered to pack the night before, and this year he had been through enough that no one was surprised that he left it for later. Rubbing his face, Albus quickly struggled into everyday Muggle clothing and began tossing his things into his trunk.

"Ready to head on home, Albie?" Ryan asked as he carefully packed the box that had once contained the cursed monocle. "Got the whole summer to decide when you're gonna tell the Quibbler what really happened a few nights ago."

"Why would you want to keep that thing?" Albus was actually curious, but he mostly asked to deflect Ryan's line of questioning.

"Why wouldn't I? All right, yeah, it's supposed to be yours, but... they won't let me keep the monocle itself, it's still cursed."

"Yeah, but- well, wouldn't you want to burn it? You were almost stuck there for all eternity!"

Ryan shrugged, tossing a pair of robes on top of it. "I lived there for a week. Sure, I was worried I'd never make it out, but I didn't die from it, and it's a fairly unique adventure. Seems kind of stupid to bin it without a backward glance, doesn't it?"

"I suppose. But I've had enough 'unique' adventures this year that it would be more unique to spend a boring summer sitting around Grimmauld Place."

"Suppose you have." Ryan closed and locked the lid, then walked over and clapped Albus on the shoulder. "Next year, if you're going to teleport through the castle and square off against a ghost-manipulating berk who locked me in a suit of armor - or The Angry One - bring me in on it, will you?"

Albus rolled his eyes, but what he said was, "Count on it."

"Believe me, it's not as much fun as it sounds," Caspian told them as he straightened his tie. Albus found himself unsurprised that even his Muggle clothing was presentable and dignified. "But an extra wand might have saved me from this headwound."

They soon joined Rose in the commonroom, where most of the students were piling their luggage so the house-elves could use their magic to transport it directly to the Express. "Haven't seen Jezabel this morning. Nobody has."

"Great," Albus groaned. "She's not lingering by Snape's tomb, is she?"

"Hadn't thought of that," Rose muttered. "But it's a distinct possibility."

With that thought weighing them down, the pair of them made their way into the dungeons at top speed, where they could take Jezabel's secret passageway out into the Forbidden Forest. Rose briefly expressed her displeasure at never having been let in on this little secret, but when he pointed out that they've had no real need to sneak out into the gloomy trees and unknown monsters it held, she seemed mollified. A few moments after they reached the other side, they had their bearings and found themselves in front of Snape's tomb, where they did, of course, find their friend.

"Creepy with an uppercase C," said Rose to announce their arrival. "Ho there."

"AHHH!" Jezabel exclaimed as she turned, hands clutching at her chest. Even gasping for breath as she was, Albus noted she was quite presentable this morning; could it be she had actually washed up of her own volition? He couldn't help but grin at this positive sign, and when she noticed this she responded in kind, albeit with less surety. "I, hello, er- so, I'm... how did you know I was here?"

"Hunch," said Albus. "All right?"

"Mostly." As she turned back to gazing at the tomb, she cleared her throat and asked, "The carriages are waiting for us, aren't they?"

"Probably."

All was silent for a few breaths. Albus and Rose took the opportunity to move in closer, standing behind and on either side. Then she asked, "Isn't it funny?"

"Er..." Rose glanced at Albus for help, but he only half-shrugged. "Not the word I'd have chosen, but... how do you mean?"

"All those afternoons and evenings I spent here, feeling so isolated and lonely... and I was this close to finding out I had an entire set of extraneous family history. That I had a father who died a hero, and a mother who lived out her days a villain..."

"And that you were supposed to have grown up as Scorpius's aunt-slash-sister," Rose laughed. "Almost makes you glad his grandmum chickened out and passed the buck."

"Now there's something that's still got me flummoxed," Albus muttered, chewing his lip. "You were all set to be Narcissa Malfoy's daughter, raised by them, or by Draco or something. But then Bellatrix ended up with the bun in the oven. If that's the case... why did you get sent to live with random Muggles up in Leeds instead?"

"Oh, that's rather simple," Jezabel answered carelessly; her brilliant mind was obviously on larger matters, but could multitask. "In the many hours of contemplation I've spent since we returned from our excursion, I finally recalled an insignificant factoid; my adoptive mother's grandfather was named Marcus Snape."

"Right," Rose gusted. "Far-fetched, but that would make a touch more sense. Your parents are really just distant relatives, eh?"

"Mm." Her head was slowly shaking from side to side as she continued to stare at the tomb. "Could be a mere coincidence, but somehow, I doubt that. Funny. My answers were right here, all along."

"I'm sure there's no way this slab of stone could have told you any of that," said Albus.

"But I was drawn to it, wasn't I? Of course, it is so out of the way that a social outcast such as I would have found it sooner or later, but... but I found it almost immediately. I-" She had to work at getting the next words out. "When no one would recognise me as even the lowest form of life, m-my father was there for me. As if this was the only way he could reach out to his daughter, all he could offer me. And it helped me so much! If I hadn't had a safe haven, a- a sanctuary between the boughs, I know I wouldn't have survived the first five years of my magical education."

That was no less disturbing to hear than Rose's description of her extensive scarring, or Malkin's declaration that he was going to use Caspian to kill Rose. "Jez-"

"Don't belittle that," she pleaded, turning at last. "I mean it, every word. There were honestly times when being able to shut out the teasing and taunting for an hour or two was all that enabled me to go on living. Even then, it didn't seem at all smart. Learning - that's what I came here for. And because the old Headmistress told me I could belong. But when the rest of the student body tries their damndest to convince me otherwise, it makes it all but impossible to keep it up."

Rose twitched. Albus only had enough time to turn to her before she choked out, "I'm sorry. Jezabel, I- I really am, I don't know how I c-can-"

"What do you mean?" she asked, taken aback. "It isn't your fault, it's no one's fault but my own."

"I believed it! For a minute there, I- I actually believed you could be the one controlling the ghosts! And that you killed Professor Dryden! Because you screamed out that you wanted him sacked!"

"Ahh... he did snap at me when he ran into me outside. By which I mean literally tripped and fell over my legs; he wasn't watching where he was going. It wasn't an international crisis, I just wish he wouldn't take out his temper on me."

A quick rub at her nose, and Rose went on, staring down at the grass. "You're right, that doesn't matter. That shouldn't have given me any doubts, I know you better! Malkin had you proclaiming to the four corners that you were a homicidal maniac, and I bought it, and I never should have, and I'm so, so sorry!"

Both Jezabel and Albus laid hands on either of her shoulders, and Jezabel whispered, "Don't worry. I'm sure he made a reasonable case for it - I mean, he was using my own body!"

"But I thought I was a more staunch friend than that. I'm really disappointed in myself."

Albus snorted - he couldn't help it. "You're human, it happens. I wasn't sure for a second, but we both came to our senses. Now, if a centaur started telling us the same thing..."

"Shut up," she snapped, though she sounded as if she partly wanted to laugh. "I'm trying to apologise, here."

"Apology accepted," Jezabel said at once. "You risked a lot to save me in the end - both of you, and Mr Lewis. That's worth its weight in Galleons to me."

"And you stopped Malkin from destroying me in Dryden's office," Albus added.

Rose's face screwed up. "Yeah... but only because he couldn't get Jezzy to do the Killing Curse. It's not as if he didn't give it an honest go. Why'd he fail?"

"The same reason Dorika couldn't do it," Albus answered at once. "I've thought about it, and that's all I can come up with: it's too hefty a spell to channel through someone else, I reckon."

"I'm not so sure," Jezabel spoke up. When both of them looked at her in surprise, she nodded slightly. "I can't remember a single thing that happened in that room with the both of you and Dryden's paralysed form, but the one image I do have is... something ugly and wrong reaching out for you, Albus. And I sank my teeth in and stopped it."

"You did? I m-mean... you actively stopped it from happening?"

"I suppose. It's the only thing that matches that sensation. I assumed it was some dreamlike manifestation of the events I was out of commission for, but... if it was really a spot of reality seeping in, and I affected it, then I'm ever so glad!"

The grin broke out across his face again. "Me, too."

"Yeah, I'll bet Dorika did the same thing," said Rose. "I'd never expect a good person like her to let someone use her body to commit murder. Except... well, she wasn't as thorough in holding it off, was she?"

"Not quite," Albus sighed. "Just ask Professor Peele."

"Farewell, Father," said Jezabel softly, running her hand along the smooth, black surface of the grave that contained a person who had once been of no consequence to her. "Thank you for my life, my wand... and my peace of mind. Such that it is, anyway."

Albus blinked at hearing this. "Won't you be coming back to visit more often, now that you know who he is?"

"I don't think so." She took a moment to shake open the travelling cloak Albus's mother had bought her and readjust it. "It's a bit... I'm just not sure it's healthy to spend all your time speaking to dead relatives. I may come now and again, but not regularly."

"Hang on a tick," Rose muttered. "Are you... you're not actually wearing that beastly thing, are you?"

"Oh," she giggled, letting her cloak fall open to expose her Weasley sweater. "I am. It's quite cozy; in fact, the cloak on top of it is almost a bit too much, I'm rather-"

"But I thought you hated it," said Albus.

"Of course not, it's lovely! It's... one of the nicest things anyone's ever done for me." One of her hands was twisting a stray lock of hair around her finger. "I never thanked you properly. Sorry."

"But... hang on," Rose half-laughed. "If you liked it all along, why'd you all but throw it back in his face?"

"Because you two were fighting over it. It was already a bit much to take, your trying to 'adopt' me into your family when I already have one... I understood how you meant it, and it was awfully touching. Still is. But Rose didn't seem to think you had the right. Why would I want a gift that was going to make you bicker over whether or not I deserved to be an honourary Weasley?" A second passed before she gasped and said, "Wait, that- I didn't mean for that to come out as harshly as I- I'm sorry, Albus, it really is-"

"No, you're right," he cut her off. "We were acting like prats, and right in front of you. Don't know how you were supposed to accept it graciously in the middle of a fight."

"I'd say that's my misstep," Rose sighed. "Again. I seem to make an awful lot of those."

Jezabel shrugged, leading them off toward the secret entrance that would lead them into the castle. "After a while, it occurred to me that you wouldn't have had it made if you didn't sincerely wish for me to have it. So, I decided not to let that flare-up stop me."

That left Albus feeling nothing short of impressed. The old Jezabel, the one of a few short months ago, would probably have burned the sweater if she thought it was causing any tension between anyone - or simply refused outright to accept any kind of gift at all. She surely had grown in many ways over the course of a year. Perhaps they all had.

"There," Rose whispered as she pushed a single Sickle into his palm.

"What's this?"

The look on her face was somewhat grumpy, but it didn't hide her true mood, which was uplifted. "Eh, fair is fair. Wouldn't want you calling me a welcher."

o o o

Aside from the cry of surprise and alarm loosed when the three of them arrived at the carriages - and found they could all now see the thestrals pulling them along, not just Rose - their return from Professor Snape's gravesite was uneventful. For Albus, this was, in fact, too eventful as it was, so the absence of any further excitement was fine with him.

The Express was waiting for them when they arrived, the last three passengers. Albus and Rose hugged Hagrid goodbye, and Jezabel waved modestly from further back. Then Albus and Rose were to join the other prefects, and Jezabel was left to find her own seat - but they were more optimistic when they caught sight of Caspian signaling to her.

Once they were seated and listening to Barty drone on and on about how lax their methods had grown over past term, both of their ears perked up when they heard, "Psst!" Both of them continued to nod off for a moment before the noise sounded again, bearing a different message.

"Weasley!"

Albus looked around and was shocked to find the source to be Scorpius. When he peered up and down their car, aghast at this development, he saw Genevieve was not at his side, but in another seat a few rows ahead of them. He felt sure his face was the picture of befuddlement when he hissed, "What do you want?"

"None of your concern, Paltry Potter," he snapped. "I was talking to Rose."

She, of course, had no more warmth in her voice than Albus had. "And why should I want to talk to you any more than Al does?"

"My dad has asked me to find out how much Scurvy wants for the Lestrange estate," he grumbled.

"And I should know? Why not ask her yourself?"

"Because I've actually got some tiny drop of respect for you," he told her, flushing as much as a pale boy like that was capable of. "Between you, the Great Mistake and Son Of Messiah there, it's not a difficult choice."

"Hmm. You know, if I were a younger, less learned witch, I might find myself with the mistaken impression that you're... fond of me."

Trying his hardest not to guffaw aloud and disrupt their cousin's speech, Albus found himself marvelling at the way colour could drain from one's face while rising at the same time. He really ought to invest in a camera for times like these... "That's- now you're just making a fool of yourself."

"Thought you and Genevieve were all over each other," Albus couldn't help but remark (though he wished dearly to point out which of them looked most foolish). "What's the matter, isn't she Slytherin enough for you anymore?"

"Oh, really?" he scoffed, attempting to regain control of this dangerous conversation. "That only shows how poor your powers of perception really are. Genevieve always had a bit of a soft spot for Malkin, don't you know."

Rose's eyebrows shot up as she replied, "Oh?"

"Yeah. Looked like they were just getting on better through the shared experience of the whole school despising them. Although, I suppose she'll never get the chance to tell him as much." For a moment, he appeared less flustered and more sullen than usual. "Nasty business, that. But he's been trending in that direction for a while now. Never understood what she saw in that dullard."

For a moment, they could do no more than stare into space, burdened by the thought of a death on Hogwarts premises for the first time in ages. Mostly to break the tension, Rose said, "Well, if you're going to go about courting your, er, 'queen', a bit more tact and grace is in order, I should say."

"Get knotted, Weasley. Just pass the message on to Scurvy."

"Happily."

And they rode on in silence, pretending to be fully absorbed by Barty's reiteration that they weren't to use the pets of first years as frisbees.

When time came to patrol the rest of the train, Albus and Rose were the first ones out, blowing past Tranky and down the aisles. The incomprehensible sight of Wendelyne Moore talking animatedly to Martin Finnigan in one car was almost enough to send him back a few steps, but Rose nudged him forward with her wand point. The fact that Kayla Sylvanus and Tanith Moon were poking their heads out of the doors across the way was enough to make him agree that they had best not dally.

They were nearly at the back when they found Jezabel. Fears and worries thundered through his mind - would she be all right? Had she got on okay with Caspian? What about the other students who were sure to have been stuck in the same car when they found everywhere else full? But he needn't have worried.

Timothy Goyle and Chester Pucey were curled up on the floor, fast asleep and sucking their thumbs. They'd also found a way to sprout pink and yellow antlers. When he glanced around the rest of the cabin at Jezabel, Caspian, Hugo and Monica Grey, the other three all shrugged and nodded at Jezabel.

"They were being needlessly rude," she said sheepishly, twisting her hands in her lap. "And I didn't want Caspian getting in any more trouble for my sake."

Once they had disposed of their unwanted baggage by dumping it in a neighboring compartment - the sign on the door said the seats were broken - Hugo and Monica squeezed over to admit the prefects, and they spent the rest of the trip gossiping.

"Lily's in a car with that Francis Atherton," Hugo sighed. "Wish you could drive a wedge between them, it's awfully dull without her."

"Wait, wait," said Albus, struggling to keep up. "I thought Lily fancied Joseph Moran."

Monica made a face. "Moran's a bit of a, er... how shall I put it? Gentleman about town. I'd say Lily's well shut of a boy like that."

"So then, what's this Atherton like? He's not on any House team... what House is he in, anyway?"

Rose made a sound that was some bizarre combination of laugh, cough and sigh of disgust. "Lunkhead."

And then they were at King's Cross, disembarking at Platform Nine-And-Three-Quarters. They took their time, Albus carefully balancing Dobby's cage and Rose doing her best to check and doublecheck that she hadn't left her wand behind. Only a sparse crowd remained by the time they could no longer stall, mostly children waiting for parents who were running behind.

Rose went first, followed by Caspian. Albus gestured for Jezabel to precede him, and she nodded at him before disappearing through the wall. Once he saw she had gone through okay, he did the same, and found himself in the bustling crowd that seemed to magically replenish itself.

"Let's hope our sixth is less perilous," Caspian muttered to them as he moved on to find his ride.

"One can only," Albus laughed. "See you."

"There's Mum and Dad!" Rose was shouting. "And yours, too, Al, they're a bit further along - come on!"

"Sure," he shouted. "Just... hold up a second!"

She glanced over her shoulder, puzzled, then saw him staring at the way Jezabel was poring over a scrap of paper. With a quick nod, she strode over and patted Jezabel on the shoulder. "Got a message for you."

"Oh!" she gasped, smiling. "What's that?"

"Scorpius says his father wants to buy your premises. Any intention of taking him up on it?"

"Well, I... haven't given it much thought," she admitted. "Though I daresay I have two estates all to myself, and it might be wise if I chose one to live in - I have little need of a summer home!"

"Suppose not," Rose muttered before squaring her shoulders. "Did my part, anyway. Don't be a stranger, eh, Skirrow?"

"N-no, of course not! See you soon!"

And Rose slugged her cousin hard in the bicep, winked, and began to push her way through the crowd toward Albus's aunt and uncle, Hugo weakly struggling in her wake.

Then they were alone. Of course, he caught sight of a student or two still looking for their family, or else boarding another train, but none noticed him trying to find the words to sum up what had transpired between he and the girl he had almost never met.

"You needn't make a fuss," she half-laughed, feet stepping all over each other. "I've an Underground to navigate. Now, let's see; to make my way to Victoria, I need to head over-"

"Jez..."

"Oh, don't say anything like 'goodbye'," she pleaded. "I'm not sure I- well, it would be impossible to hear, I don't want to hear you say it, so I'll be running along now, all right?"

"Come on, don't be so stand-offish. There's no reason we can't-"

"I'm guilty of manslaughter!" Luckily, the majority of the milling travellers were far too busy with their own affairs to take notice of her public admission, but Albus glancing around like a cat with a feather in its mouth wasn't likely to reduce any suspicions. "Why should you desire my company?!"

"We all had a hand in it," he reminded her, taking a step closer to make the conversation as private as they could under the circumstances. "And Malkin made sure of his own death. You and I both know that very, very well. Those faerie tales from your childhood didn't make him go wrong so you'd have to stop him, you know? Sometimes bad things just happen. Don't put it all on your own head, that's not your responsibility."

"I know, I know," she sighed. "Sharing the weight and all. But this... do you actually expect me to snap my fingers and no longer care that I ended someone's life? It may have been the only choice, but I... but my hands are so very stained, and to put them anywhere near a good and decent soul as you is nothing short of, of... sin!"

Albus paused to take a look at the girl's cheeks, shining with tears and sweat from the cloak she was still wearing in the muggy air inside the platform. She was an authentically beautiful person, and it wasn't just because she'd been made to accept bathing as non-optional - she was still beautiful when she was sporting the "drowned rat" look. The moment he'd had a brief view of her eyes the Autumn previous on the Express, the discovery had lodged itself in a corner of his soul; Jezabel Evelyne Skirrow-Snape-Malfoy-Lestrange was one of the good eggs. All the conversations and predicaments they'd underwent from then on only strengthened it, helped it grow. It was a certainty that he would stake his life on - and, in a way, he had several times.

In her mind, she was trying to render him a service by shoving him away. It did little to lessen the hurt, but he could at least understand. None of that could really make him believe this was how they were going to part ways. "Very well. But just remember that it's a sin I'd rather we live with than throw it all away." He turned and began to push his trolley away, Dobby crying out at the sudden movement. Before he left her behind, he thought of something to add. "I really wanted to invite you over sometime this summer, though. And the offer stands. Think about it, yeah?"

A fidget. "I'm sorry. Perhaps later. I have... a good deal of coping ahead of me."

"We all do, but, well, coping with friends usually seems to go by faster, I've found. Bye."

Eons flowed by like treacle as Albus forced his way between businessmen and tourists to where Ginny Potter and his sister were waiting impatiently. Should he turn back and assure her that he didn't feel like her plan of going back to her indifferent family and spending the summer alone was particularly sound? No. It was a strong urge, but he had to respect her wish for time. They would be sure to see each other come September first, and he would be overjoyed when they did. For now, he had catching up to do with his own clan.

"Finally," his mother said as soon as he was within earshot. She pulled him into a warm hug, then patted him on the back and whispered, "Let's get out of this madhouse and into the car."

Again, they had procured a Ministry automobile to lessen Muggle suspicions. He saw James and his father had gone on ahead and smashed all of his siblings' belongings in, and James was starting to push the trolleys back when the three of them arrived. Lily hastened to lend a hand, and his mother went straight to the front passenger's seat. That left the two of them to sort his things.

"So," his father said - and it was only then, with the look behind his glasses, the few extra grey hairs at his temples and the way his lightning scar appeared to have grown darker, that Albus figured out that his father must have heard everything by now. A student had died, and that wouldn't be restricted to a Hogwarts affair; the Ministry would have to be informed.

"Yep."

The corner of his mouth twitched up. "I take it this wasn't the brand of excitement you were hoping for at start of term."

Albus's mind reeled. He'd been such a whiny prat ten short months ago. In a way, perhaps he had brought it all upon himself. "Merlin, Dad... I think I'd rather have my boring old life back."

"Mmm. Can't say I'm surprised it ended the way it did," he grunted as he helped heave the trunk into the spacious boot. "Some student who was not relatively prominent nearly bumps off half the castle, and most of the staff perform such a cack-handed investigation that nothing comes to light until there's a corpse. Déjà vu."

"Not for me, it isn't," Albus told him bluntly. "You sound like Professor Dumbledore's portrait."

"He told me he'd had a conversation with the three of you. The Headmaster... he means well, but sometimes his advice is as easy to take as cough syrup."

"What kind of syrup?"

"Nevermind, er... Muggling myself." For a long moment, he stood there with his hand on the lid of the boot, staring at his middle child in wonder. "But the important thing is the ordeal is over. Regrettable that the twerp couldn't be brought to justice, but at least he's now quite incapable of disturbing the peace of Hogwarts in the future. The Chimaera of Judgement, previously thought to be a figment, is now being scrutinised by Cousin Teddy down in the Department of Mysteries - you and your friends may receive commendations for turning up such a treasure. If they can determine no way of rendering it impotent, I'm sure the artifact will be destroyed, and the jewels that had been stolen returned to rightful owners."

"Well, that's a positive, at least." Albus couldn't bring himself to sound cheerful.

"Oh, don't look so glum! You not only survived, but you did your best to make sure this disastrous year came to a spectacular close - and you did it your way, not some patented 'Harry Potter The Chosen One' way. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. That school tends to need saving every so often, and I'm very proud of you for doing the honours this year, son. Very proud - and I'm sure Grandfather Potter would say the same if he could see you now, standing here."

Albus smiled. That he was not a mere clone of his father was exactly what he'd been needing to hear. The words of gratitude wouldn't come out quite the way he intended, so like any boy too uncomfortable to accept praise, he changed the subject. "Thanks to your cloak, Dad. Malkin might have caught me if I hadn't been able to disappear, regroup. Does that... make me a coward?"

"Hmm, does using the Cloak to prevent the villain from turning you into porridge make you a coward? Hardly! How do you think I got through the Battle of Hogwarts? Without a way to escape the crossfire for a few minutes I'd have been blown to atoms." The gleam was unmistakable, and Albus almost laughed aloud. Would the man ever change? "I'd hoped it might come in handy. Wherever the feeling came from, I instinctively knew you'd need it far more than James. Bet he'd get a kick out of it, though."

"We'll never find out," Albus said firmly. "Because I'm keeping it in my pocket twenty-four, seven."

"Good man," he laughed, clapping him on the shoulder as he slammed the door. "That's an Auror's tack; constant vigilance and so on. Now be a sport and take your own cart back, I'll get the engine started again."

Within minutes they were pulling away from King's Cross, the three Potter children mysteriously comfortable in the backseat. Albus craned his neck to look behind them; it would be over two months before he saw it again. With so many means of magical travel open to them, there would simply be no need. More so than after any previous year, it felt final, like the shutting of a coffin lid. Even seeing Rose off, knowing they would probably speak again within days - it had been difficult. So much had transpired in such a short period that everything felt raw and alien. He saw himself as a vastly different man than he had been going into the year. Perhaps that was it: he might not be of age, but he was otherwise on his way to being a man.

"By the by," his mother was telling them as she checked her make-up in the rear-vision, "I know we were supposed to pop over to the Library tonight, but Neville - I mean, Professor Longbottom is coming round for a cuppa this evening. I suspect he wants to make sure you're all holding up well after the news."

"Come off it," James groused. "We barely even knew the git. And if he was really trying to snuff everyone in sight and giving the ghosts a bad reputation in the process, then who gives a flying fig?"

"Nice attitude," Lily shot at him. "You might at least feign a pang of grief, Atticus was a human being... of sorts, anyway."

"Haven't got it in me," he insisted. "Now, if he had managed to draw the curtains of a certain professor who actually handed me back a A when I know I scraped an E, I might be tempted to feel someth- AAHHHH!"

The cry was shared by all three children, and Albus experienced a moment of sheer terror when their father nearly guided the car into a newsstand. Once things had calmed down, Albus heard a velvety voice he hadn't anticipated hearing for many days.

"Excuse my sudden intrusion, Mr and Mrs Potter, but... could you help me teleport my personal affects into your boot? They're back there on the kerb. I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to unlock a magical transport."

"My pleasure, young lady."

Once Harry had produced his wand, Jezabel sat back and turned to Albus, normally pale face flushed. It was plain that she was terrified of every action she was taking. "You did mean it, didn't you? When you said-"

"Yeah," he laughed - and found it hard to stop laughing as he threw both arms around her. "As long as you like!" This action was not well thought-out, and he worried she would shove him away - but his heart soared when he felt Jezabel squeezing him back, face nestling into his neck for a brief moment. Apparently, she was consummately finished living the life of a shrinking violet, and it had been a long time coming.

"What's all this?!" James bristled, literally smooshed up against the door due to Jezabel's sudden presence in their seat. "What's she doing here - and since when can she Apparate?!"

He could see his mother smiling in the mirror as she continued applying her lipstick as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. "It appears we'll be boarding a houseguest. You're quite welcome to the spare bed, dear." The sincerity in her voice when she offered this was so touching that Albus could almost feel his eyes misting over.

"Ooh, this sounds like great fun!" Lily giggled as Jezabel sat back. "We can braid each other's hair, I'll give you a full beauty treatment!"

Albus, still chuckling at the flash of dread that passed over Jezabel's face, asked her, "But I thought you wanted, y'know, some coping time."

She mimed checking a watch. "I also said 'Perhaps later,' and it is later, isn't it? As we've learned this past week, life is... far too short to spend moping and being indecisive. Besides... I've had enough time to myself to realise I'd much rather be spending it with you."

That was enough to make Albus feel warm. Once he felt her delicate fingers lacing through his, he fully expected steam to start whistling from his ears. Why was he always the last to know?

"Oi!" James spoke up as he readjusted his glasses. "If Al can have her over, why can't I bring Daphne Lane round for a week or two?"

"You're free to do so once you find your own living space," Harry admonished, a knowing frown playing at the corners of his mouth as he glanced back. "Why is it teenagers always think with their hormones?"

"This is really all right, isn't it, Albus?" she whispered to him. The not-so-Muggle-born not-so-Slytherin was close enough that he could see her shaking, watch her brown doe eyes flitting between him and his parents through her clean, flowing black tresses. "You're... not angry that I barged in this early in the summer? Maybe I should have waited a bit, given you a week with-"

"Jezabel," he cut her off, squeezing her hand for good measure. "Permission is yours."

And as the vehicle carried the Potters and one Skirrow through London toward Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, not even the disgusted noises and catcalls from Albus's siblings could make the unexpected, impassioned kiss any less magical.

FINITE INCANTATEM