Chimaera Of Judgement

47: Seeing Pink

Hogwarts Castle was an ancient building. It had stood as a testament to higher education for all of wizardkind for centuries upon centuries, playing host to some of the greatest minds and highest achievers. It held as many mysteries within its sacred walls as any such site would. That was why, when the tiny house-elf told Albus that one of his professors had been killed without warning, he at first thought it was some kind of illusion.

He also thought the way the stones beneath his feet were swaying could be the castle pulling a prank on him.

"No, he isn't," Rose scoffed, eyes wide. "You've seen something wrong, or you've been in the cups."

"Winky hasn't been drinking!" she hissed angrily. "Winky has given it up, no more, no more! Winky knows what she is seeing, miss! The Potions Master is down there, sprawled on the ground and blood all over hisself, and- and then we saw- ooh, it's too awful, don't make Winky think about it anymore!"

Albus swallowed, pulse already quickening. It wasn't in a house-elf's nature to lie about anything; though he knew Kreacher was capable of hedging around the truth now and again, even a senile old elf such as he usually stuck to facts when his master called. Being that every witch and wizard in the castle was Winky's master, she couldn't be lying to them or the magical enchantments that bound her kind would cause her to throw herself into the nearest fireplace.

"Where?"

"In his office, sir," she whispered, scarpering off to the kitchens in a flurry of sobs before either of them could stop her.

"How d'you like that?" Rose straightened, rubbing her cheek with one thumb. "Odd little thing, but... you reckon a word of it's true?"

"I reckon all of it is... or she thinks it is, leastways."

"Should we get a teacher? Sprout, even?"

"Hmm... no, not yet." Pulling a face, he took a hesitant step toward the dungeons. "What if Winky has gone mad? We don't want to stir them up into a whirlwind without any proof."

"Point, there." Even so, she did not join him in his walk. "But Al... what if it is true, and we're about to bump into a murderer or something?"

"We can't not go! If we just go on up to bed and let one of the other students find him in the morning, by the time the teachers get down there, the trail will be stone cold!" He caught his breath for a moment before continuing, "So we'll go down, see if he's really, y'know... and then if he is, we'll go get Longbottom, I should think. He'll come, he'll believe us."

Rose didn't look nearly as convinced. "Or he'll give us the benefit of a doubt, at least."

Their footfalls echoed off the walls as they descended into the dungeons. His palms were sweating again; what would they find? Would they find anything? If they didn't, did it mean the house-elf had been deceived... or that the culprit had decided it prudent to cover their tracks? When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end; something had most definitely happened. All was not right beneath Hogwarts.

"D'you hear...?"

Albus nodded; a slight creak. Dryden's office door was ajar, and an eerie light was seeping from the crack. That seemed like a clue. Albus drew his wand, and taking this as a cue Rose did the same. Slowly, hearts in throats, they approached the door and eased it open.

Albus was not ready to see Dryden's mangled body, red pooling beneath him as he lay on the flagstones. He wasn't ready to see Nearly-Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron, mad, popping expressions in place as they loomed over the scene. But the thing he was least ready for in the world was to see Jezabel Skirrow standing over him, arms crossed over her chest and wand poking out from below her left elbow.