The Book Of Jude

Chapter Nineteen: Veritas Parit Odium

'Weary

My hands slapped cause I'm cautious and leery

Of tryin'--oh but I'm tryin'

How am I to figure it out

All alone I've been kickin' around

Without my home--I'm so lost, so lost'

Sister Hazel, Fortress

"Catch!" Jude looked at the silver ball bearing in her hand and shook her head ruefully. "It's the oldest trick in the book, Darcy. I can't believe I fell for it. I hate Portkeys." But the dog was more interested in her new surroundings.

Two pops alerted her to the presence of others following her into the room. It was the two goons from the storefront in Cambridge. She turned to them, tossing the Portkey back to the man who'd given it to her. "Catch. Very clever of you."

"Thank you." His answer was a bland monotone. He snatched the tiny ball out of the air with little effort.

"It's two in the morning, boys. Do you mind telling me where I am and why I'm here?" Jude leaned against a deserted desk and folded her arms. She knew exactly where she was. The Ministry of Magic.

"The Minister has a few questions for you."

One of the men pushed a heavy, metal door open. "Follow me." Jude scoffed only minimally at the command as she pushed off the desk to obey. The other darkly clad figure brought up the rear.

After a few twists and turns down nearly empty corridors they entered a reception area where an overworked secretary slumped over her desk, buried in some last-minute work. The name displayed on the door behind her announced that this was the office of the Minister himself. Jude was surprised that a man with as little talent for public service as Fudge would be burning the midnight oil for any reason whatsoever. What was going on?

"Minister's expecting us, Rose." The man in the lead rapped his knuckles on the hard wood of her desk, calling her attention up from the notes she was making on a sheet of typed print.

"Go on ahead," she said wearily and returned at once to her work without further acknowledgement.

The door swung open and at once Jude was reminded why she loathed the man sitting behind the desk in front of her. Feet perched on top of the immaculate surface, ankle over ankle, hands propping up his chin, fingers laced together and a satisfied, triumphant grin on his face, the Minister greeted his guest.

"Good evening, Miss Elliot. Or should I say good morning."

Jude fought the revulsion she felt at the sound of the oily politician's voice as he pretended to consult his watch in a calculated motion to match his words. She bet he'd practiced it all before she got there.

"I hear you've had a busy night." His feet swung off the desk and on to the floor, his elbows coming to rest now on the place they had vacated. All cordiality and preliminary politeness was out the window now, Jude sensed.

She said nothing, but held the Minister's stare with cold ferocity. She was feeling mutinous and the only thing that kept her from turning around and leaving that instant was Big Boy standing right behind her, blocking her retreat.

"Please, Miss Elliot. Have a seat." He motioned her to take the chair directly in front of his desk. She threw herself into it wearily. She was exhausted, but still up for a fight if it came to that. "Thank you, Leon," the Minister said, dismissing the remaining thug with a wave. "Oh, and can you take this dog with you?" The man, following the Minister's orders reached for the lead loosely wound around Jude's wrist.

"The dog stays." Her counter was thin and harsh and brooked no refusal. The man consulted the Minister before retreating through the door without the hound. Darcy settled by Jude's chair, resting her head on her paws, watching the scene with mild interest.

"I assume you know why you were asked here, Miss Elliot?"

***

"I assume you know why you were asked here, Miss Elliot?"

The Minister was pacing in front of a large window facing a busy London street, the sun slanting through the glass in tangible rays. The man was harsh looking with dark hair that had faded to gray, and black fierce eyes like a prowling cat. From the name on the plate that graced the heavy desk in front of her, she realized that this severe man must be Howard Jennings, Minister of Magic.

She had heard enough of him to be inclined to hate him. Of course, the information had come from Lord Voldemort and numerous other enemies of the Minster and his Ministry. But by the way the man acted and the impression she got from Professor Dumbledore, those inclinations seemed fitting.

Looking up from the side of the Headmaster, she replied hesitantly. "Because, Professor Dumbledore told me I had to come." She wasn't trying to be difficult, but this answer seemed to spark a fire of hatred in the man.

"Don't be daft, child. You know very well what you are and now I have to figure out what to do with you." The Minister continued his angry pacing.

"May I make a suggestion, Minister?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Of course, Albus." The Minister waved an impatient hand.

"The child could remain at the school, under my watch..."

The Minister held up a restraining hand. "I'm sorry, Albus, but I cannot allow you to do that. I know you sympathize with the child, but she is just using you. She is one of them, You-Know-Who's right hand. She must not be trusted. And she must be dealt with accordingly." The man cast a scathing glance at the little girl at the Headmaster's side.

Jude fought the impulse to quail under such a harsh, accusing stare, but stuck her chin out and pressed her lips together in resolve instead. She would not be intimidated. Her fingers wound tighter around the folds of the old professor's cloak. She seemed to draw strength from his mere presence. He would never let anything happen to her.

"And how would you deal with her, Minister?" The Headmaster's voice betrayed a slightly mocking tone. It was no secret that the two wizards did not agree on most subjects.

"Like the rest of her kind. Life in Azkaban. She'll never see the light of day again as long as I'm Minister." He rounded on her, glaring ferociously like a hungry predator.

"Send a child, only ten years old, to a place like that? Are you out of your mind, Howard?" The Headmaster stepped forward, reluctant to start a conflict with the Minister, but willing to put up a fight for the child.

It was no secret that anyone even loosely tied to Voldemort's band was the archenemy of the Minister's. He'd placed more witches and wizards under the watch of the dreadful Dementors in the infamous wizard prison than any Minister in the Ministry's history--a reputation that Minister Jennings was quite proud of. He'd searched out Death Eaters with unmatched zeal, and now due to the recent downfall of their master, he planned to step up his efforts rooting them from their hiding places. This was a hobby for him but also a lucrative business venture. Those select members of Voldemort's ranks with enough resources to bribe the Minister could buy their way out of his witch hunt, and those with more modest incomes could at least buy themselves a reasonably fair trial.

"Why not? She is a murderer just like the rest of the lot. Why should the Ministry be merciful on the young and not the old? I dare say she is old enough to know right from wrong." His eyes wandered wildly as he pondered the possibility of placing yet another, very influential member of the opposition behind bars. After a few seconds of his erratic and disconcerting thought, he clapped his hands together and walked quickly to the door, pulling it open. Almost gleefully, he asked the secretary to retrieve someone from Magical Law Enforcement.

Dumbledore's wise and suspicious eyes followed his erratic movements along with Jude, who only gaped at the intimidating man with astonishment and apprehension. Would he really put her in prison? She didn't doubt that's where she should be. When people killed other people, they went to prison.

"She is not a murderer and we have nothing to fear from her." Jude remained silent and still by the Headmaster's side. She had never mentioned to anyone that she had actually killed a man for her Master, even though she sensed that Dumbledore suspected such. But now was not the time for confession--she didn't want to go to Azkaban, even though she was sure she deserved no less. "A ten year old child is easily manipulated, Minister. I'm sure Lord Voldemort left her little option in the course her life has taken. And," Dumbledore continued to press her case even when the door opened, admitting two uniformed and intimidating men. "She did save that child, openly betraying her master to do so. She put her life at great risk to save another. And this is how you would repay her for the trouble?" The old professor was hugging the little girl to him as the Minister doled out orders to his lackeys.

One man approached the child and pried her away from the old man. Dumbledore released her reluctantly, but was clearly not ready to give up the fight. Jude struggled fiercely against the steel grasp of the man, but she was only a child and no match for a fully trained Law Enforcement wizard. He had her under control before the Headmaster had gathered his thoughts to argue further.

"Minister Jennings, you will release the child into my custody as a ward of the school. I will not stand by and watch you abuse the power given to you." An angry fire burned behind the cool blue of the professor's eyes. But the Minister was equal to the challenge.

"And you plan to stop me, Albus? I hold all the cards here. You have no power over this situation." The Minister was rubbing his hands together, satisfied as Jude continued to struggle against the two men as they attempted to herd her out the door.

"If you take that child away, I will personally see to it that every citizen of this community knows what you have done." The sly grin on the Minister's face did not betray the slightest hint of fear or acquiescence. The Headmaster, judging his opponent, only smiled. "There are still some at the Daily Prophet that are not in your pocket, Minister. Everyone will know what really happened here, you have my word." He'd seen the Minister's resolve crumble like a child's sandcastle under the power of a wave. He'd hit him where every politician was sensitive--his reputation.

The serene, superior glare of the Headmaster's was matched by the defeated, crestfallen and furious glowering of the Minister. The stare was only broken as a cry of pain shattered the silence. It was not a child's yell, but that of a grown man howling. Dumbledore looked to the man who'd had a vice grip on Jude only moments before. But he'd released his hold on the child when she'd sunken her teeth deep into the flesh of his hand. The man was cradling his wounded hand, no longer heeding the child. She ran across the room and dove into the Headmaster's arms.

Patting the child reassuringly, he spoke to the Minister, hoping to quell the anxiety that the child's freedom created. "You have my word that Jude will be no threat to the wizarding community."

The Minister sank into his plush, leather chair and cradled his head in his hands. Raising his head sharply as the pair moved to leave, the Minister spoke furiously. "There are to be certain rules governing her behavior. Such as..." he furrowed his brow, grasping at the necessary list of regulations. "She is not to perform magic outside the classroom, she must use a wand--none of that sorcery trollop--she may not Apparate, ever. It would give her too much license. And..." The Minister trailed off. After several moments of silence he allowed them to leave, promising to send a full list of rules governing the dangerous child that was considerably longer than the list the Minister was able to compile on his own that night. He must have had help, Jude reasoned.

***

The events of that morning had forever fostered a deep resentment and distrust for the Ministry that was not improved upon over the subsequent years. And this visit was not adding to the charm the Ministry was devoid of.

Jude was hard pressed to conjure up any other feelings than intense loathing as she listened to Fudge ramble on about the threat she posed to the community. She fought to hide the anger and rage from showing on her face, keeping her features a cold mask of indifference.

"But one thing I don't understand," the Minister continued, reclining easily in his chair and frowning in feigned confusion--another practiced expression.

"There's just one? I'd assume most basic concepts are beyond your grasp," Jude scoffed, arching an eyebrow at the pompous man in front of her. She knew she shouldn't push his buttons right now, but he was such an arrogant asshole that she couldn't help letting a few snide comments slide.

He stared coldly back at her, but then quickly regained his composure and pressed on. "Why did you kill that young man in Cambridge? From all the reports I've heard, he was a friend of yours."

A satisfied look crossed the Minister's face at the sight of Jude's stricken agitation. She fought to remain in control of her rage and anger, but could not help exploding at this accusation.

"I didn't kill him. I would never hurt him." She stood up, fists clenched, causing Darcy to jump up from her spot at Jude's feet. Barely able to restrain her fury, she took a few deep breaths, intent on explaining to the Minister, calmly and rationally, the events of that evening--even though it was none of his damned business and reliving that again was the last thing she wanted to do right now.

She remained standing. Even though she was exhausted, she could not force herself to sit back down. In a tight, strained tone, she began her explanation reluctantly. "I asked him to meet me there because I had something to tell him." She paused, swallowing hard.

The Minister took this opportunity to clarify some facts. "His name was Rhys Mallory, son of a Ministry employee who was killed by You-Know-Who's hand. Were you aware of this?"

"Yes," she replied weakly. "He told me not long after we'd met."

"And yet he was still your friend despite the fact that you were involved with the man responsible for the deaths of his family?" He watched intently as her expression of cold indifference faltered and her gaze sank to rest on the floor. "Ah. I see." The Minister's tone was slightly mocking. "You didn't tell him about your involvement. That you yourself were a murderer of innocent people just like his mother, his father." Perfect. He had her exactly where he wanted her.

She would have dissolved into tears at this point if she were the type of person who cried. Instead, she stood still, shocked to the very core. Still, she would not let the Minister put his spin on things--she would not concede the battle this easily. "That's what I was going to tell him. That's why I asked him to meet me. I didn't want to hide it from him any longer." Her voice was low but she didn't doubt that the Minister caught every word.

"Still," he broke the minute's silence. "It is a coincidence that you would befriend a former Ministry employee's son. You claim that you had no ulterior motive for your relationship?"

Jude furrowed her brow, trying to see where Fudge was going with this, determined to beat him to the punch. But she had no clue what vein he was trying to exploit.

"You could have easily used the Imperius Curse on him--I dare say you are an expert in the Unforgivable Curses. You could have commanded him to walk blindly into his death."

"No!" Jude could barely choke out the words. This was ludicrous. She would never want to kill the only person in the world who'd mattered to her. No doubt he thought her incapable of such feeling.

"The only thing I can't reconcile is why? Why would you befriend this man and kill him? His connection to us is weak, and there was really no other reason for you to attack him." He folded his hands calculatingly under his chin, fingers laced, giving him the air of deep, judicious thought. "You had a secret motive for killing him and I want to know it, Miss Elliot."

The rage bubbled over and poured out before she had a chance to contain it. She slammed her hands palms down on his desk, creating a loud and satisfying crack. "I didn't kill him, it was an accident. I loved Rhys. I blame myself for making him angry enough to walk out into the street, where he was killed. Yes. I take responsibility for that. But I will not let you create some idiot conspiracy to boost your public opinion. I will not allow you to make a mockery of his death like that."

The Minister simply stared back at her, eyes unreadable. "Then tell me of your involvement in the events at Hogwarts these past few months and I will forget this latest incident."

The look of confusion that spread across Jude's face was unmistakable and completely genuine. She had no clue what he was talking about. The Minister saw this, but questioned anyway.

"What was your part in all of this, Miss Elliot?"

She shook her head, completely caught off guard by this question. She didn't know how to answer. Isolating herself from the wizarding world, she'd heard nothing about events concerning it. And nothing to do with Hogwarts. "I don't know...what are you talking about?" She sank back into her seat wearily.

"Are you familiar with the Chamber of Secrets?" He was glaring suspiciously at her.

"Yes," she replied, brow furrowed. "It's an old myth."

"A myth you say?" the Minister chuckled and shook his head. "Several children were attacked by an unknown entity masquerading as the heir of Slytherin. A very serious hoax that could have been deadly."

"Was anyone hurt?" Jude looked horrified. She knew about the Chamber, having read Hogwarts: A History more times that she could count on her fingers. She had a feeling it might be more than folklore, but had never believed that it would be reopened in her lifetime. It must have been a serious ordeal for the Headmaster to tackle. She felt a little guilty for having walked out on her duty to him and the school a year ago, but she would have been of little help anyway.

"No one was hurt, although your concern is touching," he answered blandly. The sarcasm was rewarded only with a hassled look from Jude. "So you were not involved in this at all?" He looked at her over steepled fingers, his suspicions still not quelled. Finally, he sighed and shuffled some parchment. "You really should read the papers." Jude assumed it was his way of admitting defeat, however ungraceful his tactics were.

"One more thing," the Minister looked up from his busy shuffling of papers. "You are well aware that you are forbidden to Apparate for any reason whatsoever."

Jude betrayed an amused smile, a stretch for her, considering how she felt at the moment. "Oh, come on. I was just giving your boys a run for their money. I knew they wouldn't be that far behind me."

The Minister appeared agitated at her lack of respect for the rules governing her. "That is not the point. Severe penalties must follow the breaking of such rules..."

"Come off it, Fudge," Jude interrupted icily. "You couldn't pin the Chamber incident on me, your accusations that I killed my best friend are flimsy, yet you are so desperate to throw my ass in prison, that you would make a big deal out of me Apparating? Do you know how big of a joke you are?" Jude leaned forward casting a scrutinizing glare on the Minister, disbelief written all over her face. She was mocking him.

"I could have locked you away several times over by now. Mercy is the only thing keeping me from doing so at this very moment." He peered down his nose at her incredulously.

It was amusing to watch the Minister scrape together what dignity Jude had left him with. "Mercy! You don't even know how to spell it. You do nothing out of mercy. You do everything out of fear--fear of how it would look to everyone around you, fear of losing Dumbledore's support and advice..."

Indignant sputtering was the only reply Fudge had to offer.

Jude continued to drive the blows home. "Without Dumbledore whispering instructions to you in every matter, you wouldn't even be manager of the local fish n' chips shop."

Fudge had had enough. "You are treading on thin ice, young lady...very thin ice. I could have you sent to prison this very moment, with or without Dumbledore's consent."

Jude sank wearily back into her chair, Darcy dozing obliviously by her feet. "Then do it. Send me to prison. To Azkaban. I don't care. Whatever feeble, trumped-up charges you can concoct, I'll go along with it. The truth is, the guilt I feel is by far worse than your cells and bars. I would be a poor meal for any of your precious Dementors. So, go ahead and call your goons to come and take me away. Lock me up forever and you'll never have to worry about me again." Jude's expression was blank, cold and lifeless. She had given up and expected Fudge to gleefully take her up on her offer.

Instead of calling in the guards that waited just outside the door, Fudge sighed and rubbed his temples. The one thing he'd always wanted--to see his mentor's prize in hand, the one that got away, offering him the chance to put her away for life--and he could not take it. His pride wouldn't let him. It was too easy--she had given up the fight. All triumph in the matter was lost for him. At length, he grumbled something inaudibly and dismissed her with an agitated wave of his hand.

She gaped at the Minister, crestfallen and morose, as he waved her from his office. This was all he'd ever wanted, what he'd worked for. It was well known that the dearest desire to his heart was to see her locked away after having slipped through the fingers of his mentor, Howard Jennings, the former Minister of Magic. He was throwing away his life's mission. She couldn't understand it. Still, she rose from the chair, taking Darcy's lead and walked silently from the office.

The Minister's only reconciling thought was that there would be plenty more opportunities to see the arrogant little girl finally behind bars and the victory would be sweet.

***

Back out in the pouring rain. Only the streets were no longer of her beloved Cambridge. She could never go back there. But where else could she go? She could just wander the streets alone, allowing the full weight of her misery eventually drive her into the ground. Darcy nudged her leg, reminding her that she wasn't the only one standing on the desolate London street in the driving rain. Jude looked down at the dog that seemed miserable. She deserved more than this at least.

She took firm hold of the lead attached to Darcy's collar and reached inside her soaked shirt. It was still there, the silver charm dangling from the chain around her neck. The numbness of the shock that had kept her together for the past few hours was beginning to wear. She could feel it. Reality was about to set in. It was instinct that caused her to reach for the charm and all that was safe.