The Book Of Jude

Disclaimer: The usual yada yada. I own nothing of the fabulous world and characters created by J. K. Rowling. She owns them along with a slew of companies that I grow weary of listing. You know them--they gross millions of dollars and I am lucky if my paycheck is over four hundred. They are rich, I am not. They own everything, I own nothing (except Jude, of course, but she´ll tell you she´s not worth much). Any recognizable conversation in this chapter (and in following chapters) was created by Rowling in The Sorcerer´s Stone and belongs to her. I merely revamped it with my own character--I wanted to maintain the integrity of the real story and that meant using dialogue from the books to some extent wherever possible.

Chapter Thirteen: Broken

`I´m not afraid

Of anything in this world

There´s nothing you can throw at me

That I haven´t already heard´

U2, Stuck in a Moment

"You!" Harry gasped. Jude noticed the puzzled look that the boy fixed on Quirrell. That look was not spent on Jude--Harry glanced in her direction and Jude saw the immense hatred and confirmed suspicion behind his eyes. So, the boy had never suspected the jumpy professor in the least and was surprised to see him there. He probably thought he would find Snape there with her. Well, at least he´d been right to suspect her--sort of.

It was true that she was not who she appeared to be--she was much more and much less. But there was one thing she would never be, and that was a traitor to Dumbledore. But it was useless to explain that to Harry right now. He was in danger--they both were. Her priority had changed the second Harry walked through that door. The Stone was no longer her first concern. She needed to make sure the boy got out of there safely--she was supposed to protect him, and so far, she hadn´t done a great job of it.

She tore her eyes away from Harry as Professor Quirrell spoke.

"Me," he replied calmly. "I wondered whether I´d be meeting you here, Potter."

"But I thought--Snape..."

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed--not his usual quivering treble, Jude noticed, but a cold and sharp laugh. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn´t he? So useful to have him swooping around like an over-grown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

Jude, forgotten momentarily by the two, rolled her eyes at this conversation. Did Quirrell think he was some kind of master of disguise? His jumpy, Nancy professor charade hadn´t fooled everyone. Professor Snape hadn´t been fooled at all by it, and the only reason she hadn´t suspected him from the beginning was her determination not to jump to conclusions about anyone before there was real proof to be had. He hadn´t even done a good job of keeping up his disguise. Looking back, she could recall several instances where he´d unconsciously abandoned his stutter and could have given himself away. She kicked herself mentally for not giving full weight to such instances before now. But it was too late to think on the `what ifs´--she had to keep Harry alive and, if she could manage it, keep the Stone away from Quirrell. She continued to watch the scene, thinking of ways to get out and waiting for the perfect opportunity to make her move.

"But Snape tried to kill me!" Harry continued trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match."

The corner of Jude´s mouth raised into a reluctant smile. She had heard about someone setting fire to Snape at that game, but had not realized that it was a friend of Harry´s--she´d always assumed it was a well-timed accident. Harry was lucky to have such friends looking after him.

"She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I´d have got you off that broom. I´d have managed it before then if Snape hadn´t been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you."

"Snape was trying to save me?"

"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn´t do it again. Funny, really...he needn´t have bothered. I couldn´t do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular...and what a waste of time, when after all that, I´m going to kill you tonight."

Jude, despite her better judgment, moved swiftly to Quirrell´s side, ready to put a stop to anything he might do to the boy. She saw him snap his fingers, causing ropes to spring out of thin air and wrap around Harry.

Harry turned and looked angrily at Jude, rendering her speechless. She could say nothing to assure the boy--his look had so startled her. He looked exactly like his father the night she and Voldemort had broken into the tiny cottage and murdered his family. She stared into that face for what seemed like an eternity, not able to move or tear her eyes away. It was as if James were accusing her all over again through the eyes of his son. She saw the boy turn back to Quirrell and continue to argue with the man, but she caught nothing of this exchange. Jude forced herself to snap out of it as Quirrell turned again to the mirror.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell muttered to himself. He took out his wand and began tapping the gilded frame, still muttering. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this...but he´s in London...I´ll be far away by the time he gets back..."

Not if I can help it, Jude thought emphatically as she listened to the muttering professor. Had he forgotten that she was there entirely, or did he not see her as a threat? Either way, it seemed that she didn´t matter anymore.

"I saw you and Snape in the forest," Harry interrupted. Was he keeping him from concentrating on the mirror? Smart kid. But, Jude thought, if he were truly smart, he would have stayed as far away from this place as he could get.

"Yes." Jude watched as Quirrell walked idly around to the other side of the mirror as he spoke to the boy. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I´d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me--as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side..."

Jude stayed rooted to the spot where she stood. She wanted to grab Harry and make a break for the door, but her eyes remained fixed on Quirrell as he examined the mirror, willing him not to find whatever trick was keeping the Stone from his grasp. If he found the Stone, then neither of them could run for very long. They would be hunted and killed along with everyone else who´d stood up to Voldemort in his previous reign of terror. She couldn´t let that happen again.

Quirrell came back to the front of the mirror. "I see the Stone...I´m presenting it to my master...But where is it?" He turned to Jude, still standing where she´d been before. She was staring back at him with a blank expression. Maybe he thought she´d lost it, gone crazy.

He grabbed her by the wrist and hauled her back in front of the mirror. Her eyes raked the entire surface of the mirror, seeking something that she did not find. "I still see nothing...Master, forgive me...I don´t see anything in the mirror!" He shoved her impatiently out of the way once more.

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much." Harry continued to say anything that came into his head. Jude was grateful that he was keeping Quirrell from giving the mirror his full attention. It left her free to think--to find a way out and keep the Stone safe.

"Oh, he does," Jude heard Quirrell reply absently. "Heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn´t you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing--I thought Snape was threatening you..." Jude let her eyes wander from the mirror back to Quirrell and saw a visible sign of fear at the mention of this event. So he wasn´t pretending that much--he really was a terrified, little-girl-of-a-wuss.

"Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master´s instructions--he´s a great wizard and I am weak--."

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry gasped and momentarily ceased in his struggle with the ropes that bound him. Jude hoped that Quirrell would not reveal the truth to this kid--he was already faced with enough. But she knew he would not let the opportunity pass.

"He´s with me wherever I go," Quirrell said coolly. So he was proud that he was being used, being fed off of like a host with a parasite? She let the rest of his words slip past her as she watched Harry struggle with the ropes, inching toward the mirror.

Quirrell had once again returned his attention to the mirror. "I don´t understand...is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"

Jude stepped forward. "No!" she shouted, not really knowing what she was doing--she didn´t want the Stone to fall into his hands, but she certainly didn´t want to see the sorry little dupe Voldemort had tricked into doing his dirty work die. "I already told you what would happen if you break it." Quirrell shot her a warning glance and she froze once again. He clearly believed her, but was equally as desperate to get at the Stone.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work?" He looked pleadingly at Jude, but she remained motionless. "Help me, Master!"

Jude wasn´t surprised when the creepy, icy voice answered Quirrell, but she noticed the look of horror on Harry´s face. Her mind was racing. They needed to get out of there.

"Use the boy...Use the boy..." the voice hissed.

Jude watched cautiously as Quirrell rounded on Harry.

"Yes--Potter--Come here." Jude tensed as the ropes fell from Harry and he got to his feet.

"Come here," Quirrell commanded once more. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Jude pleaded silently with Harry to clear his mind and think of nothing. Jude couldn´t see what was reflected in the mirror. She hoped it was the same as what was shown to her. She was about to call to Harry not to think of anything as Quirrel moved in behind him.

"Well?" he said impatiently. "What do you see?"

"I..." She saw Harry´s look falter. "I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he lied. "I--I´ve won the house cup for Gryffindor." It wasn´t a good lie, Jude judged, but to her relief, it seemed as Quirrell bought it.

"Get out of the way," he said, pushing Harry aside impatiently. Jude watched as Harry continued to back away from the mirror. What had he seen? Harry looked in her direction and found her staring at him and he froze, seeming unsure of what to do now. She tried to signal for him to run for the door, but had little time before a high voice broke the silence. Quirrell, however, had not spoken. It was Voldemort.

"He lies...He lies..."

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you see?"

Jude tried to read Harry´s expression. Behind the fear that was evident in his face, there was something else. Had he discovered where the Stone is hidden?

"Let me speak to him...face-to-face..." Jude heard the cold, high voice hiss again.

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough...for this..."

Jude wanted to scream at Harry to run as fast as he could for the door. She wanted to save him from what he was about to see, but her voice caught in her chest. Who knows what Voldemort is still capable of? She needed to think quickly, but she found it hard to think of anything at the moment. Her mind refused to obey her.

Quirrell unwrapped his turban as Jude kept her eyes fixed on Harry. Every look of fear and horror on Harry´s face was noticed by Jude. And each look was like a dagger in her soul--she was responsible for this, she was responsible for everything this kid had to suffer through.

"Harry Potter..." it whispered.

Harry took a step back.

"See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor...I have form only when I can share another´s body...but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds...Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks...you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest...and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own...Now...why don´t you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

Jude´s mouth dropped open. She gasped for air, fighting with her lungs that wouldn´t allow her enough breath to speak, to shout to Harry to run. He had the Stone--he could run and save himself and the Stone. She was relieved to see Harry stumble backwards.

"Don´t be a fool," the face snarled. "Better save your own life and join me...or you´ll meet the same end as your parents...They died begging me for mercy..."

"Liar!" Harry shouted.

Quirrell advanced on Harry little by little, the deformed face still staring at the boy. Jude tried to move, but felt rooted to the spot just like when Tommy Malloy had placed the Leg-Locking Curse on her in her third year. It was as if she´d become disassociated from the scene before her.

"How touching...I always value bravery...yes, boy, your parents were brave...Your father died first, and he put up a courageous fight..." Jude almost couldn´t believe what she was hearing. Why didn´t He just tell the boy the real story--she couldn´t see that He had anything to gain or to lose either way by the lie. Still, she was grateful that He hadn´t told the truth--it may make things difficult if He´d shattered every confidence the boy may have in her still. "But your mother needn´t have died...she was trying to protect you...Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

"Never!" Harry shouted.

At that moment, Jude broke away from her thoughts. Whatever held her to that spot had released her and she pushed quickly past Quirrell. "Run, Harry! Go, now!" she shouted frantically, placing herself between Quirrell and the boy. He backed a few paces away from her and toward the door, but then stopped and stared at her with a puzzled expression. This was unbelievable, Jude thought--the boy didn´t trust her, even when she was telling him to get out. "Run!" She could say nothing else to make him follow her orders. Everything happened so quickly. She felt a hand roughly seize her by the collar and haul her backwards. She felt a snap as the silver chain around her neck gave into the strain. In the next instant she heard something shatter and felt her body slam against something solid.

A second or maybe minutes later--she couldn´t tell--she was lying sprawled among shards of broken glass. She tried to raise herself up on the palms of her hands and get to her feet. The glass biting into her skin assured her that she was not dead--it hurt too much. Her feet were caught on something that she could not free them from. She looked down at them to see what was keeping her from getting up. She saw her feet--she knew they were hers because they had on her worn trainers--draped over a beautifully gilded frame laying on its side, two golden, clawed feet sticking straight up into the air. Her ankles were cut and bleeding, she could see.

She rested on her elbows, resigning the fight with the frame to free her feet, and took a deep breath. Pain shot through her stomach and her back and--everywhere. She bent her head to the ground and saw glass glinting all around her. The polished and reflective surfaces from the shards were not shining as they had before. They seemed to have a glossy gleam to them--as if they were wet. The glass was wet. And red. It was blood. Her blood? She didn´t know--her head was becoming too fuzzy to think. She touched her white t-shirt with a cut and bloodied hand. It was no longer white, but now had the same red color as the glass.

Her side stung as her finger made contact with the crimson-colored shirt. She felt something hard and jagged embedded just above her hip. Glass? She supposed it was--it was everywhere else. Her hand pressed to the ground that was supporting her slid on the slick shards, no longer able to keep her up. Letting herself fall back to the ground, she sighed and rested her head on her outstretched arm. It was already beginning not to hurt anymore. The edges of the room were already becoming fuzzy and faded. It wouldn´t be long now, she thought. All the red would soon enough turn to black and it will be over. She couldn´t remember what she was doing here, but knew it must have been important. Did she win? Was it about winning? She couldn´t remember--didn´t want to remember. She just wanted to sleep--and as soon as the lights went out she knew she could finally rest. Her breath slowed and the pain ended. The last spot of light that swam before her eyes faded to gray before finally giving into black.