Chimaera Of Judgement

26: Three On Five

After a night's debate, Albus decided to tell Rose about what happened behind the tapestry - everything except that Jezabel had wept. He didn't want to leave anything out, but it seemed to him that was Jezabel's private moment, and as such he didn't have the right to blab it all over the castle. Rose was, of course, taken aback by some of the things he'd learned.

"They flushed her toad?" The fresh pear she'd been holding squirted from her hand as she squeezed it in appalled shock; there was a loud "plop!" when it landed in Daphne Lane's Weetabix. "But that's- that's inhumane, it's-"

"It's Slytherin," said Albus dully. "I don't care how often Dad says the Slytherins can be decent folk - none of them have ever turned out well."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," said Rose fairly, tapping her chin with a pear juice-covered finger. "What about old Headmaster Snape? And Jezabel herself, for that matter."

"Hmm, fair points, both." Watching Scorpius Malfoy across the Great Hall, staring up and down his House table like a pallid king on his throne, he said, "But the rest of them... urgh, I wish there was something I could do, something that would really put it to rest."

She snorted. "Yeah. When you work out that miracle, let me know; I'd appreciate a front-row seat."

The following weekend brought yet another trip into Hogsmeade, which Albus was considering skipping entirely in the hopes of avoiding the misfortune that usually seemed to accompany these dates. He voiced this opinion to Rose the day before.

"Oh, for pity's sake! You sound like you've been offered the Defence position!"

"Name once we've gone into Hogsmeade this year that's turned out less than catastrophic!"

"That's beside the point," she pressed on as they added mashed beetle eyes to their cauldrons, glancing over at where Professor Dryden was shouting down Atticus Malkin for using belladonna instead of valerian, his cauldron causing such a painful screeching that between it and Dryden's admonitions they needn't even trouble keeping their voices down. "You can't believe it'll turn out the same, don't be such a superstitious lunkhead!"

"Superstitious, am I? The curse on the Defence position is real, isn't it?"

"Was real," she corrected him. "Do put things in the correct tense."

"You're right, I'm sorry - Professor Wojcik stayed on for two years, that's much longer than one!"

"But Professor Gwynne had been there before him for seven," she replied swiftly.

He scowled, knowing she had him and loathing it. "Splitting hairs." Her triumphant smile didn't endear her to him any more, either, but an epiphany stopped him from shoving her face-first into her cauldron. "Hey, there's a thought... yeah, why not, what could it hurt?"

"Couldn't hurt much if I don't hear it," she said with a smirk.

"Listen - I know it's kind of random, and last-minute, but... I feel like it's right, like we ought to."

Her silver knife swung dangerously in his direction as she began chopping up hellebore. "Are you ever going to tell me what it is, or just expect me to go along with you when it's already happening?"

"What if we asked Jezabel to tag along? I mean - for real this time, unlike when Scorpius caused the 'Fiasco' last term."

"Ask her to... wait a minute." Her knife hung in midair. "Why are we doing this?"

"We ought to," he reiterated. "She doesn't have a single friend in the whole castle; might be nice if we treated her like one."

"Okay, look." With maddening care, she set her knife aside gently and turned to look at him, hands folded in her lap. "Yes, the wispy little thing is friendless, and yes, it's terrible that they keep picking on her, but... why are we supposed to take her under our wing? If she wanted friends, she might try talking to us once in a while."