Chapter Twenty-Four

The Warden of Azkaban

The last of the students were just leaving the sparring gym as Jennifer arrived, and she nodded to them and reminded them of a change in their class schedule as they left. Ice rain still pelted the windows outside, echoing strangely in the empty room. She ran through a set of sparring forms to clear her mind, attempting to concentrate on each movement, trying to find her ever-changing center. The baby was awake, she realized, and the kicking wasn't helping her concentration any. She grinned at that, knowing she had lost her place in the exercise, and glanced into the mirror to check her positioning on the floor. Her eyes met her own, and she found herself reading her own face and the troubled thoughts behind them. She stood there for a long time, silently talking to herself, when she noticed movement and saw a figure standing in the doorway.

"Need a shadow?" Severus asked expressionlessly.

"Always," Jennifer said, taking a step back from the mirror to look over at him. Smiling thinly at her, he tossed his cloak to the side and came over in front of her. Jennifer picked a much more complex sparring form, so much so that Severus raised his eyebrow slightly as they began.

"A bit ambitious isn't it? Considering?" he asked.

"Well, if you don't think you can keep up," Jennifer challenged. Severus grew quiet as they went into a series of wand ripostes and twist blocks, each moving in perfect time with each other. But Severus was watching her quite carefully as they headed into the double side block, and broke off the moment he saw her falter, able to steady her before she fell. "Sorry. Got a little dizzy."

"You have nothing to prove, you know," Severus said for the hundredth time, shaking his head and giving her a stern look. "Why don't you tell me what's got you worked up this time?"

"It's Icarus," Jennifer sighed as she walked over to sit on the bench near the window. "It wasn't like everyone thought… I mean, about him being adopted. Well, not exactly. Icarus really was Rowena's son."

"Yes," Severus said thoughtfully. Jennifer looked up at him, realizing he had already known. "Icarus and I spoke quite a bit while I was in Azkaban," Severus admitted. "But why does this concern you?"

"Because now he's family," Jennifer said. "Oh, I know, we're talking generations removed and only a brother of my mother's family line, but ever since I was small I was taught to respect all that came before me, no matter what they've done. But how can I bring myself to respect him after what he did?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Severus suggested quietly.

By Sunday the ice and sleet had turned to rain, and fog descended around the dreary island of Azkaban. Thomas was in a somewhat cheerful mood, and anxious to talk to Severus. He had, in fact, finally given in and decided to read the 'dratted' Muggle mysteries that Severus had been reading, but had a slew of questions about what some of their 'contraptions' were. Jennifer in the meantime handed Boltin over her father's post and other parcels and looked around expectantly, wondering when Mad Ick would make it was appearance. It was nearly then end of the hour when she finally grew impatient enough to ask Boltin where he was.

"Oh, Icarus has been in one of his famous depressions lately. He's been hiding in the crypt for a week. I haven't had much luck bringing him out of it either," Boltin shrugged.

"Why do you think I finally gave up and decided to read these," Thomas grunted. "Icarus may be a nuisance at times, but at least he's someone to talk to, or at least throw things at."

"Mind if I go try and talk to him?" Jennifer asked.

"Go right ahead, you know the way," Boltin nodded to her.

"Are you going to be all right going down there by yourself?" Severus asked with a frown.

"I can handle it," Jennifer assured him. "See you next time, Dad." Jennifer turned and walked out of the room towards the back of fortress, skirting around the Fourth Quarter to find the stairs leading down into the crypt. Why was it that it felt like she was spending so much time underground lately, Jennifer muttered to herself in annoyance as she worked her way down the narrow stairs. It seemed like every time she wanted to find the dratted ghost, he was moping instead of following her around and annoying her. The lower levels of Azkaban were cool, damp, and poorly lit, and Jennifer had to grab one of the lanterns on the wall to make it the rest of the way down. A hollow sobbing sound was coming from before her, and it didn't take her long to find Icarus, sitting in one of the crypts and exhaling a mournful sigh.

"Don't you have anything better to do than stay down here and feel sorry for yourself?" Jennifer asked. He looked up then as if noticing her for the first time, then waved her off.

"What are you doing down here? Go away before the room closes in and leaves us both buried in Azkaban," Icarus said gloomily. Jennifer looked up at the ceiling nervously, then caught herself.

"Ick, this room is in no danger of caving in, and you're not going to be able to get rid of me that easily. Stars know I've tried to get rid of you unsuccessfully often enough," Jennifer said in annoyance.

"Well, now's your chance, just go back the way you came in," Icarus said somberly.

"I can't, not until I've talked to you," Jennifer sighed, rubbing her arms slightly to warm them. "I want to talk to you about your mother."

"Which one?" Icarus said, glancing at her with mild interest. "My adopted mother or the one who gave birth to me?"

"You mean your real mother or the one who gave birth to you, don't you?" Jennifer asked. Icarus slowly got up and floated over to her, looking at her carefully. "We had a talk with Rachel. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Like you would have listened? Like you would have cared?" Icarus said sternly. "You who do not care about anything but your own little world and circle of friends…"

"How can you say that? After all I've done? Oh, how would you know, you've been moping about this prison, all of these years, you can't possibly have any idea…"

"Hm," Icarus said, floating a bit away.

"Look, I didn't come here to be criticized," Jennifer said, feeling her temper rise. "I only came here to ask you, well, why you did what you did. Back when you died."

"And why should I tell you?" Icarus asked back coldly. "I was under the impression you had made up your mind about that from the start."

"I still think what you did was wrong," Jennifer said fervently. "But, well, I'm willing to listen. After all, you're family, and I'd really like to understand…"

"Ah, so that's it?" Icarus said, turning back around a moment. "Now that I'm family, you're going to be generous and give me a 'fair' shot at redeeming myself in your eyes? Well, this may be a surprise to you, my dear, but I don't need redemption from you, nor do I care to ease your guilty conscience just because I'm Rowena's son. Why don't you try coming back in a hundred years when you've had a chance to grow up, then maybe we can chat?"

"Good morning, Icarus, Professor Craw." Jennifer looked up in surprise to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway. "I hope you don't mind my dropping in, but you see, I had an appointment with the Warden, only he seems to have been detained," he said calmly. "And how are you doing, Icarus? Boltin has told me you've not been yourself."

"Rather, I've been more myself than usual," Icarus said, glaring at Jennifer.

"Now, Icarus, I know you a bit better than that," Dumbledore said, making a slight gesture over at Jennifer. She felt a warm wind brush passed her and smiled as the chill went away.

"Thank you, sir, it was a bit cold down here," Jennifer admitted.

"Would it be all right if we continued this conversation upstairs, Icarus? I'm quite sure Professor Craw needs to get out of this damp air. I myself could do with a more comfortable setting, and I really must speak with the Warden."

"Very well, we can drop her off near the visitor's room then. I'm sure she'll be safe there," Icarus said, floating passed them and out the door.

"Actually, some of what I have to say to the Warden directly concerns her," Dumbledore said. "I'd like to have her along, if you don't mind. Severus as well."

"Him too?" Icarus said with a frown, heading up the stairs. "Why don't you invite the entire bloody school while you're at it?"

"No need for that, at least not yet," Dumbledore said calmly, and then turned to smile at Jennifer. What was going on, she wondered? Were they really going to see the Warden? Perhaps Dumbledore had heard enough that perhaps he felt it was time for Icarus to go and have him expelled from the island. No, Jennifer mused, she would never get that lucky, and it wasn't Dumbledore's way to expel anyone if he could help it.

A few minutes later they were at the maximum-security gate, and Jennifer looked over to see that Severus was already waiting for them, smiling wickedly across at the guard on duty there. It was then that Jennifer realized the guard was Adam Hinge, who was scowling at Severus angrily. But as they came closer Severus became aware of them, stepping aside and returning back to his calm, expressionless gaze, nodding respectfully to Dumbledore while quite aware that his wife was studying him carefully trying to figure out what they had walked into.

"Good morning, Mr. Hinge. I trust everything is well," Dumbledore said.

"Everything is secure, sir. Now, at any rate," he added, glaring at Severus. "Is that ghost bothering you, sir? I can have Boltin remove him if you like."

"No, but I'd like to see Boltin anyhow for an escort. I have an appointment with the Warden," Dumbledore said calmly.

"The Warden? Sir, you're not thinking of taking him… er, I mean them up there, are you? The Warden doesn't see anyone…"

"I'm well aware of the rules, Mr. Hinge. I was at the Council meeting that put them into place years ago," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Of course sir," Hinge said uncomfortably, muttering to himself as he went to get the Head Guard. But much to Hinge's surprise, Boltin only nodded when he told him about the request. He quickly led them up into the front tower, hardly even saying a word as he took out a large ring of keys, unlocking the first of several doors randomly spaced up the stairs that lead to the top. It was a long process, for each door took quite a number of keys to open. In fact, there were many that Icarus finally got bored and let them know he would join them at the top, floating through the ceiling.

"Is it just me, or does this tower have more security than the high security area?" Severus asked after the fifth door.

"It's a last resort failsafe in case there's a revolt," Boltin explained. "It's a safety point for guards, and the top room is made so it can be Disapparated out of but not into. In fact, we prefer guests leave by Apparating… it's lot easier than getting out the other way," he grinned, "not to mention it lessens the chance of anyone seeing who's coming out of here."

"So that is how the Warden escaped," Jennifer said thoughtfully, getting a quizzical look from Dumbledore. "During the Azkaban revolt. I had thought that everyone who hadn't supported Voldemort inside had died, and yet I know the Warden survived."

"Ah, that," Dumbledore said, a sad, distant look in his face. "No, you are right. I'm afraid no one did survive. No one had keys to this tower while the Dementors were in charge, nor did they ever enter this tower." Jennifer looked at him in confusion, but before she ask another question, Boltin unlatched the last lock with a triumphant look on his face, opening the large, steel reinforced door that lay at the top of the tower.

Eagerly Jennifer went into the large circular room, feeling a bit disappointed with how sparsely decorated it was. A large ornate rug lay across the bare stone floor, but other than that, there wasn't much to look at. Windows circled the room spaced a foot apart so that any part of the island could be seen without. A long narrow desk lay on the far side across from the steps, but few papers were on them, and only the humblest of inkwells. Behind it was a simple bookshelf, hardly impressive, and filled only with prison codebooks; several plain chairs were placed in front of the desk for the privileged visitors who were allowed in. A small wood stove heated the room from its spot to the right of the stairs, and the light aroma of hickory drifted through air.

No one else was in the room besides the three of them and the ghost, and Jennifer couldn't help wonder, and not for the first time, if Thatcher Boltin himself wasn't the Warden. But after showing them in, Boltin stood by the door as if to leave, pausing a moment and looking over at Icarus.

"Will there be anything else, sir?" Boltin asked, looking straight at the ghost.

"No thank you, Thatcher. I'm sure I can handle it from here, and you have duties to get back to," Icarus smiled at him.

As Thatcher turned to Disapparate, he paused only long enough to give Jennifer a mischievous smile, seeing from her face that she was finally realizing who the Warden was. His subtle response was enough to confirm it, and Jennifer turned back to see Icarus floating through the desk until he was on the other side, hovering above the chair behind it. There could be no doubt now that Icarus Ravenclaw was, in fact, the Warden of Azkaban.

"Would you care to sit down?" Icarus asked.

"Yes, I think I'd better," Jennifer said, still in shock.

"Yes, I quite agree with you," Severus said, sounding no less shocked than Jennifer.

"I hope you don't mind my bringing them, Icarus, but I believed that it was high time that they learned the truth," Dumbledore said.

"Yes, I suppose sooner or later they would have found out anyhow," Icarus agreed.

"I have only one question," Severus said, before the two of them could get any farther in their conversation. "Why you?"

"I would think that would be rather obvious," Icarus said, folding his hands together until they appeared like one single unit. "When the Dementors were brought into the prison, security was triple what it had been in the past. The Dementors were quite effective guards in many ways, but they couldn't be trusted to run the prison without supervision. Unfortunately, no living wizard seemed to last very long in the job," Icarus said, sounding slightly amused. "So, it was decided that someone not affected by Dementors should take on the role, and the only one capable of that and willing to do so was myself. I have been Warden ever since."

"And he has done a commendable job under very trying circumstances," Dumbledore said.

"Oh, I don't know. I remember a particular inmate escaping without anyone realizing he was gone for awhile," Severus put in. Jennifer gave him a dirty look.

"Yes, well…" Icarus hesitated, glancing at Dumbledore who only looked back at him steadily with a slight smile.

"Not to mention missing the fact that my father nearly got killed by someone, when you were standing right there and could have stopped it," Jennifer put in.

"Yes, well…" Icarus said, looking uncomfortable.

"And there was an incident I have heard of happening last Christmas, where a pair of inmates were 'accidentally' escorted to the same visitors room at the same time, and even reputedly had access to some underage children who shouldn't have even been in there in the first place. Now how do you suppose that might have happened?" Dumbledore put in with a smile. Jennifer and Severus looked over at the Headmaster in surprise and then at the ghost, a wide range of emotions crossing both of their faces.

"You are right, you know," Icarus said, glancing back at Dumbledore, who only smiled at him. "I am guilty of all these things. It's true I looked the other way when Sirius escaped and gave him a fair start. How could I not? I'd talked to the boy on occasion, enough to know he didn't do it. But I also must confess I was completely blind when Crouch left, for he rather wasn't the sort I spoke to. I am also guilty for the incident with Jennifer's father. I only hope that he can forgive me when he realizes it."

"You are what?" Jennifer said. Only Dumbledore's firm hand kept her in her seat.

"My dear, some of us ghosts acquire a certain 'gift' when we pass on," he said dryly. "It's called possession. Your father was never in any true harm. You see, when he woke, he didn't wake in his cell at all; he was already in the crypt when 'Thurspire' cast that spell."

"Only that was actually you as well, which is why he didn't remember it," Jennifer said, angrily. "Why in the world did you do it, Ick? Do you know what that put me through?"

"Yes, one night of worry, but I don't think you realize what you got in return," Icarus said. "You see, there's this nice little clause in prison policy that states the Warden can give investigation rights and guard privileges to capable citizens in an emergency. I knew if you had those privileges, it would serve to not only help you, Jennifer, but also I would gain an ally if anything went wrong within the prison and I needed immediate action. That way, the prisoners would not be sitting ducks like they were…" Icarus' voice grew soft. "The night the Dementors left."

"Icarus, if you had lingering concerns over that, why didn't you bring it up to Arthur, Rhys, or I before this?" Dumbledore asked.

"Oh, I was quite sure I was being irrational. After all, Boltin certainly wouldn't ever harm a prisoner, nor would any of the other enchanters here, even if some of them get a tad overenthusiastic about the rules now and again," he added when Severus grunted. "But after Pettigrew escaped, I began to truly worry again. I thought, perhaps, that a little insurance from someone whom I trusted would be worth the trouble. I already have a fountain of blood on my soul, and I really don't need any more."

"Why me, though? You have no reason to trust me, especially since I can't stand you," Jennifer snapped.

"Yes, well, believe it or not, that's one of the reasons that I do trust you," Icarus replied. "And I knew you would never abandon your father if you had the power to stop something that threatened him, so I made sure you had that power."

"Icarus, there was no need for all of that," Dumbledore said gently, "You had but to ask, and I'm sure the justice board would have agreed with you and given her the clearance."

"I disagree, Albus. They would have never given it to her because of her father's residence here," Icarus said simply. "Of course, if you want to report my actions to them, I'll understand. Perhaps I'll get lucky and they'll find me unfit for the position. As for the last offense, I admit that willingly as well. I knew that Severus hadn't committed the crime, and although I had to do my job, I wasn't about to sit and let him be completely cut off from everyone he cared about during Christmas. Perhaps it was a little lax on the rules, and frankly I couldn't have done it at all if it hadn't been for my previous offense setting Jennifer up with certain prison rights. But that too, I do not regret. I suppose that's been the trouble all along, hasn't it, Professor? I've done so many terrible things in life and death, and yet I don't regret any of them."

"I'm not so sure you really mean that," Dumbledore said gently. "But you and I can talk about that later. Right now, there is something quite important we need to discuss."

"Yes?"

"What happened to the Cauldron after you removed it from the Chamber of Secrets?" Dumbledore asked. Jennifer blinked at Dumbledore, then nodded, looking back at Icarus. Of course, that made sense, really. Only Salazar, his apprentices, and Icarus even knew the Chamber existed, or how to get into it. Who else would have had the motive to move it?

"I gave it to my mother," Icarus said evenly. "My father and Godric Gryffindor fought quite a while over that Cauldron, so much so that everyone rather got tired of it, and Hufflepuff and mother were both quite concerned. I had confided in her that I knew where it was, and she asked me to get it, promising to hide it where no one could find it. But things went steadily downhill from there. I never saw the Cauldron again."

"How is it that you were allowed in the Chamber at all? I mean, from what Rachel said, your father spurned you at birth, which is why Rowena took you in," Jennifer said.

"That was, of course, before anyone knew the truth about my innate talent, or as I always thought of it as, my curse," Icarus said bitterly. "I was born with no sense of time, or rather, a sense of all times at once. Because of this, I had nearly perfect visions of the future. It's a rare aberration of magic blood. In fact, the only other I've ever heard of that has it is Merlin himself," Icarus said, glancing at Dumbledore who nodded. "My father heard I had it, of course, and decided to make amends. At the time I was truly too young to know he was manipulating me. Not that I still didn't care for him, but that's another story, I suppose. He often had me look ahead to try and make plans…centuries ahead, in fact. But changing the choices of one man is not always significant when all others in that time have decisions to make as well. I think my father learned the hard way as did I that every decision made by every individual determines the future, and we can only determine our own. But anyhow, Father wanted to leave a lasting impression on the school, so that even if his ideas were not realized in his own lifetime, they would be passed on to others. That is when I looked so far ahead to find he who would do so. That was when I first laid eyes upon Voldemort.

"But upon doing so, I saw very quickly that Voldemort, although adamant about the place of Muggles in society and those wizards born from them, had no morals at all; not even the cold and calculating restraint that my father employed. Voldemort knew only hatred and obsession, and I knew if he was ever born that many innocent people would die, and those left would be changed forever. My father was oblivious to my warnings, determined only to have his way at any cost, even at the cost of so many lives. I kept seeing a war of good and evil, and the school hung upon the balance, and I knew my actions helping him to see the future only served to further strengthen the events that would lead up to its coming about.

"I had decided then to confide in some of my fellow professors, three great friends who all started out as apprentices themselves… Caprica Dusthorn, Bedivere O'Laren, and Janus Craw. They knew of my talents and were as concerned as I was, and so we secretly began working against the plans of my father. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before we felt as if the ground was collapsing under our feet, for the politics of the school and its operation became a constant concern. Father often quarreled with the other three, and the rifts between them were beginning to hurt the school itself. One of the professors came up missing not long after the Cauldron was hidden, and there were accusations passed between all of the founders over who was responsible. If it wasn't for Godrich Gryffindor's stable leadership at that time, I truly don't think the school would have survived.

"For it was he who saw that the four who created the school were now beginning to destroy it, and he knew it was time to pass the responsibility on to others, for he didn't believe he could save it. So, it was at that time that he convinced the four to get together and agree to set up a board of governors, led by my mother who became the first chairman. They appointed Caprica as Headmaster, while the other founders took up less authoritative positions in the school, or not at all. Hufflepuff moved on first, and then my father… passed on, leaving but Gryffindor, who stayed only as an advisor to Caprica until he was quite certain the school would survive. Of course, I was long dead by the time Gryffindor finally left, so I never got to see the beginning of the school's most golden years, nor did Janus Craw, it seems, but at least he had passed on the knowledge of his magic before he died. I envy Caprica and Bedivere, knowing that they came to a peaceful end while I live in constant misery."

"A misery you brought upon yourself," Jennifer pointed out.

"Yes, a misery I brought about in hopes of saving your entire generation from Voldemort," Icarus said icily. "What a terrible crime! Why don't you just exorcise me now and get it over with!"

"Icarus, Professor Craw, there's no need for that," Dumbledore said gently. "We are all on the same side here, and despite our pasts, we all have the same goal, to secure the four artifacts of the seal and restore the Ancient Sentinel."

"Yes, of course, you're quite right," Icarus said, nodding solemnly. "And I will do everything in my power to help, what little power I have, being a ghost."

"Thank you, Icarus," Dumbledore smiled, glancing at Jennifer. "You know, you could probably learn a lot from him, if you weren't always at each other's throats all the time. Look at yourself in the mirror, Jennifer, and tell me do you really think he's all that terrible?" he asked, drawing out a mirror. It was then that she recognized he was holding out the Mirror taken from the box that Icarus and his friends had left them to find…the Mirror that had once helped save her life.

"I, for one, will not forget all that you have done for Thomas while he's been here, and all that you did for me," Severus nodded. "Not to mention the Potion, although I admit it took me a while to work out that immunity to poisons and disease was a price and not a gift."

"Yes, but I'm sure it makes sense now when you think of what happened to me, though, doesn't it?" Icarus said with a thin wispy smile.

"All right, all right, you win," Jennifer said, sighing loudly, looking between Severus and Dumbledore. "If the two men I respect most in the world support you, I shan't argue with them. I still think what you did to your family is wrong," Jennifer added stubbornly. "But then, we all have things in our past to regret. So, I'm willing to start over and try to get along from what we know of each other now and not what either of us have done before."

Icarus eyed her carefully for a long moment.

"Deal," Icarus agreed, and Jennifer found her hand out in front of her and being shaken rigorously even though the spook hadn't moved.

"Thank goodness that's finally settled," Dumbledore smiled.

"We can only hope," Severus said dubiously, earning an annoyed look from his wife.