The Book Of Jude

Chapter Twenty-Three: Silence of the Lambs

'Say what you see

When you close your eyes and glide

Circumvent the tide

Sheds of himself

That tells us what he knows

And a piece of him will stay

When the rest of him goes...'

Incubus, 'Divided'

Trying to keep the urge to fight and spit in check while the girl, Hermione, tried to stuff her into a basket was an uphill battle. Jude felt her cat's instincts taking over more and more as one human tendency after another went out of the window. Thankfully, she could still think like herself, or this would have all been a moot point. And luckily, she didn't scratch the girl too badly as the last shove found her locked in a cage of cheap, faux wicker. Jude was ashamed to admit it, but she was a bit claustrophobic. She lessened her hissing as the girl promised to let her out on the train, Ron protesting the entire time.

She was loaded into the Ministry car like luggage, heaped on piles of trunks and bags next to a white owl that stared haughtily down her beak at the ginger cat. She would be glad when this was all over and she would be free to prowl the halls of the school and the grounds and the forest looking for clues about Black. This was what she was good at and she would have made a fair Auror, had it not been for her record. But she didn't regret the discrimination--the Ministry was rotten to the core and she never would have been happy in that corrupt institution.

The cars bumped along until they reached King's Cross Station in record time. Jude breathed a sigh of relief as the drivers unloaded the bags--one step closer to freedom from this bloody cage. Stacked on a trolley and jostling through the crowds of commuters at the station was just as bad as the trunk of a car. Then through the barrier where the scarlet engine stood glistening under the white lights of the station. Jude forced her heart to slow, but couldn't help breathing rapidly. She tried to ignore it, but it seemed as if her cage, her prison, was actually shrinking.

A porter offered to take the basket onto the train for Hermione, but was refused. She boarded the train with Harry, Hedwig in hand, and they placed their pets in the luggage rack of an empty compartment. The kids turned and left. She was on the train, but still no closer to freedom. She bristled, suppressing rage and mounting anxiety. The haughty, superior gaze of the insufferable bird never left her. Was it her imagination, or was Harry's owl laughing at her? She hissed and the bird turned lazily in the other direction. Jude stared out the window, tail lashing the sides of the basket irritably, watching as the kids said goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

Her impatience was growing by the minute. The cage was flimsy--she could easily have it open in a few seconds. As she was contemplating the best way to make her escape, the door opened, distracting her attention from the feeble lock on the basket. A man walked into the compartment, surveyed the area then took a seat opposite the luggage rack where she crouched in the basket. She watched as the man rested his head against the wall and promptly fell asleep.

Jude was immediately interested. Whoever this person was, she bet they had quite a story to tell. He definitely looked as if he'd been through the mill--his light brown hair was flecked with gray, even though he looked no older than thirty or so. His face bore a weary sorrow that added age to his young features. His robes were shabby and worn--Fortune had probably never called him friend. Still, despite his strange appearance, Jude felt as if she knew this man--she'd definitely seen him somewhere before.

Shaking her fuzzy, ginger head she thought ruefully that that was something she'd been saying quite often. "I've seen him somewhere before." But that didn't stop a memory form trying to push forward through all the things occupying Jude's mind for the past week. She fought to find that memory, ignoring the close confines of the cage as best as she could, focusing on the man's ill and exhausted face. But all hope of finding that memory was lost--at least for the moment--when the door of the quiet cabin was flung open to admit Harry, Ron and Hermione. They ceased their urgent conversation instantly, realizing that this cabin was occupied.

Looking the odd stranger over, Ron hissed the question on everyone's mind, including Jude's. "Who do you reckon he is?"

"Professor R. J. Lupin," whispered Hermione at once, taking a seat opposite from Harry, next to the door.

"How d'you know that?" Ron mocked. Jude listened intently, her cat ears perked up to pick up the quiet conversation.

"It's on his case," she replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head. Jude looked across the cabin at the battered case in the opposite rack from her. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters. Jude was impressed--Hermione was quite a keen observer. But she kicked herself for not having noticed it before the girl. If she had only been ten years older, Hermione could have given Jude some decent competition in school.

"Wonder what he teaches?" Ron said, leaning over to get a closer look at the pallid professor.

"That's obvious," whispered Hermione. Jude would have laughed, if cats could laugh--this girl loved having the answers to everything. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Jude looked curiously at the sleeping professor, then back at Hermione. She knew what had happened to the first Defense teacher, but who was the second? And what the hell happened to him?

"Well, I hope he's up to it," Ron said, shaking his head doubtfully. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway..." He turned to Harry. "What were you going to tell us?"

Jude watched as Harry struggled to find the words to express what he wished to relate to his friends. He kept glancing over at the man by the window. If he was afraid of waking him up, it was a needless fear--Jude could see from her perch that he was deaf to any noise in the cabin. She settled as comfortably as she could in the shrinking basket, listening to Harry as intently as both of his friends.

"Well, I overheard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking last night," Harry began tentatively, but soon warmed to his subject. His audience was rapt. "They were talking about Black and Mr. Weasley was telling Mrs. Weasley that there was something about him that I needed to know. But no one wanted to tell me what it was. So I listened some more." Harry took a deep breath before pressing on. "Mr. Weasleysaid that Black broke out of Azkaban because...because he's looking for me."

So he knew. Ron and Hermione were both staring at him, wide-eyed at his pronouncement. Hermione had her hands over her mouth, and finally lowered them to say, "Sirius Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Harry...you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble, Harry--"

"I don't go looking for trouble," Harry protested. "Trouble usually finds me."

Jude looked skeptically over the kids below her. Yeah, trouble did find Harry Potter easily enough, but it's not as if he tried too hard to stay out of its way. He seemed to be the type of kid that liked being in the thick of things--not for the attention, but simply to prove himself. And for the past two years, he seemed to be at the center of every mess--she reminded herself to find out about what happened at Hogwarts the previous year. She was curious about the Chamber being opened, and she'd heard something of Harry's involvement in it all. Truly a Gryffindor--she shook her head at his foolishness, hoping that he'd learned from the last two years. She didn't want to spend her time following him around, keeping him out of sticky situations. But, she was relieved to notice that he seemed to grasp the seriousness of his situation.

"How thick would Harry have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?" Ron said, a little shakily. "No one knows how he got out of Azkaban," Ron continued uncomfortably. He and Hermione seemed more frightened than Harry. "No one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner too."

"But they'll catch him, won't they?" said Hermione earnestly. "I mean, they've got all the Muggles looking out for him too..."

"What's that noise?" said Ron suddenly.

There was a high-pitched squealing from the luggage rack next to her basket

"I think it's coming from your trunk," Ron said. Jude saw Harry climb up and extract the loud and offensive object from the trunk next to her. She looked mutinous as Harry disappeared from her sight with the thing. It was earsplitting. She became impatient with the conversation about the Sneakoscope the kids were examining below her.

She resumed spitting and clawing at the opening of the basket until, finally, she heard Ron tell Harry to put it back in the trunk. "Or it'll wake him up." He nodded toward Professor Lupin, who, Jude noticed was still asleep. To an insomniac, that deep of a sleep was foreign and unnatural. Was he still breathing? Jude looked skeptical, but the professor remained oblivious as the conversation changed topic and the kids began an animated discussion of Hogsmeade.

"In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain..." Hermione, reciting like an encyclopedia, was studiously ignored by her companions as they continued to discuss the merits of Honeydukes.

Jude had rarely gone to Hogsmeade with the other students when she'd been in school. There were too many opportunities to get into serious trouble there. She remembered one instance where Sabine and a gaggle of other boys and girls had dared her to go into the Shrieking Shack and bring an object back to prove that she'd accomplished the task. The building was dilapidated and in a severe state of decay, but it was quiet and there was no evidence that it was haunted. The only danger posed by this house was the possibility of the roof falling in on you. And, as any stupid kid would do, she took up the dare haughtily.

She should have known that it was a setup when the astonished group ran back down the road as she kicked in a boarded up window and crawled into the dusty and dark rooms beyond. She stood in a room that must have been a tidy parlor at one time, but now it was a musty graveyard for broken furniture and spiders. Brushing aside the cobwebs, she advanced on the door, which stood ajar on broken hinges. She smirked as the November wind shook the building roughly, howling through the cracks in the boards. "There are your bloody ghosts, Marah," she spat ruthlessly as she climbed the steps to the upper rooms.

The sun was sinking fast,she could see feeble rays through the frayed curtains and broken window panes. Dust danced in the faint light, making the room look more sad than scary to Jude. This place seemed forgotten, hidden under a hokey rumor that it was severely haunted. Forgotten, however, only after someone had busted up the joint. She was in a bedroom at the top of the stairs, which, like the rest of the house, had been trashed by either a furious animal or an out-of-control rock band. The light grew dimmer as she explored the curious corners of the room. She knew she had to go soon, but was reluctant to leave the lonely house. As she turned back at the door for one last look, she promised she would be back. There was a comforting presence here.

Resting her hand on the archaic handle of the door as it creaked on rusty hinges in the drafts that whistled through the house, she felt it give under the slight pressure from her fingers. It came off in her palm. She stared down at the round, metal knob in her hand and smiled.

"Here's your soddingproof!" She tossed the doorknob in the air and caught it deftly with the other as she turned toward the stairs to present the treasure to the skeptics waiting for her outside.

Crawling back out of the window, she heard the mocking laughter of children. Rounding the side of the house, she saw the students who'd fled when she entered the house. She made her way proudly over to them as they climbed the overgrown path up the hill to the house. Then she stopped, frozen in her tracks. McGonagall was staring harshly down her nose at Jude, her rectangle spectacles only made her appear more severe.

"Miss Elliot, explain yourself," McGonagall demanded in a clipped tone. The kids around the professor dissolved into mocking laughter.

"I was conducting an experiment," Jude began importantly. "This building is not really haunted. We are all being duped by the media--they would have us believe that this place is dangerous. It's probably a cover for some elicit operation," Jude said seriously, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"That is enough, Miss Elliot!" The professor raised her scolding voice above the din of the impertinent laughter. "Detention for a week with Mr. Filch and twenty points from Slytherin! This place is dangerous, ghosts or none. I don't want to see you around this place again, Miss Elliot. Do I make myself clear?"

Jude nodded. As the professor forcefully led her away from the building, she looked back. She would have to abandon her promise to return. That lonely house would remain forgotten, and she would never explore its sorrowful secrets again. She shoved the doorknob into her pocket. They never wanted proof and she was an idiot for not seeing through the scam. But this round piece of metal was hers for the keeping.

Jude smiled at the memory. Professor Snape was irate that she'd lost more points for her house, but it was soon forgotten. Detention with Filch was horrible, but she was used to it by then. And, as she'd discovered the night she'd trashed her room at the Abbey the night Rhys died, she still had the doorknob.

"Ron!" Hermione's voice pulled her from her remembrances. "I don't think Harry should be sneaking out of school with Black on the loose..."

"Yeah, I expect that's what McGonagall will say when I ask for permission," said Harry bitterly.

So he didn't have permission to go to Hogsmeade? That was a shame, Jude thought, but it wasn't that big of a tragedy. It was never as grand as the rumors from the older kids made it sound.

"But if we're with him," said Ron spiritedly to Hermione, "Black wouldn't dare--"

Jude was amused. Ron thought that he could stand up to Black? Jude knew little fact about the dangerous convict, but she was even doubting her ability if a face-to-face confrontation with Black became necessary.

"Oh, Ron, don't talk rubbish," snapped Hermione, "Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street. Do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry just because we're there?" Jude was thankful to see that Hermione was about to let her out of her prison.

"Don't let that thing out!" Ron said, but it was too late.

Jude, or Crookshanks, jumped lightly from the basket, stretched and yawned. It was infinitely merciful of the girl to release her, she was about to go mad. She sprang onto Ron's knees. She hadn't seen Ron's pet rat yet on the train and feared that he'd recognized her and split. That would be disastrous, but Jude was satisfied to see a lump in the top pocket of Ron's shirt tremble before the boy shoved her, a little rougher than was necessary, off his lap.

"Get out of here!" Ron shouted angrily as he pushed her away. This was truly a thankless job--the boy had Voldemort'ssniveling servant masquerading as a rat in his pocket and he was mad that she was trying to rid him of such a parasite. Oh, well, she thought as she took a seat that was empty and stared at Ron, eyes on his top pocket. She would bide her time with this--at least it was obvious that Peter hadn't recognized her. Right now, she held all the cards and it felt good.

The conversation became boring again and Jude's attention was divided between the lump in Ron's pocket and the suspicious man sleeping only a short distance from her. The name on the battered case above his name was even familiar--she'd read those very same letters somewhere. Read...that was it! In the paper--he was the fifth person in the picture, and the only person she didn't recognize. So he was connected to this somehow? He was probably asked to teach at Hogwarts by Dumbledore as an extra precaution against Black. All the men in the picture looked chummy enough to Jude, so what happened? Who betrayed whom? She was sure that this was the key to this crazy puzzle she agreed to solve and she was impatient to know everything. She would find out that story soon enough and she knew just who to ask about all of this.

After another hour or so--Jude could no longer tell time by looking at the sun because angry clouds and relentless rain had stolen it from all view--the elderly witch with the candy cart came by. She watched, slightly amused, as the children debated whether or not to wake the sleeping professor, then argue the question of whether or not he was dead. Jude stretched and turned her eyes back to Ron's pocket as the kids ate candy and talked more on the subjects they'd already canvassed. Jude fought the urge to doze, feeling uneasy about something, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She shrugged it off as merely paranoia, but she was determined to stay alert nonetheless.

The next diversion came in the form of a blonde boy book-ended by a pair of goons who looked created to simply do his bidding. Jude picked her head up off her paws for the first time in forty minutes--it was Draco Malfoy. This could be interesting, Jude thought, having heard of their infamous relationship. Malfoy was leaning elegantly against the door, a sneer on his pale face.

"Well, look who it is," said Malfoyin his usual lazy drawl, which reminded Jude eerily of his father, a man she did not remember fondly. "Potty and the Weasel."

Jude shook her head, unimpressed. That was truly pathetic.

Crabbe and Goyle, his two trollish thugs chuckled.

"I heard you father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," said Malfoy. "Did your mother die of shock?"

It was a low blow, and Jude was surprised to see Ron react to the obvious bating, standing up so quickly that he knocked the prison-cell basket to the floor, causing the professor sleeping nearby to rustle. Boys.

"Who's that?" said Malfoy, taking an automatic step backward as he spotted Lupin. His snide, calm façade faltered for once. So he didn't want to pick a fight in front of a teacher, Jude couldn't blame him. But he lost points for cowering back into the doorway at the sight of an adult. She shook her head--this little boy had a lot to learn. Intimidation took more than just scary words.

"New teacher," said Harry, who also got to his feet, placing a restraining hand on Ron's shoulder. "What were you saying, Malfoy?" Harry said coolly.

Well done, Jude conceded. Victory was obviously rewarded to the dark-haired boy as the blonde muttered resentfully to his goons and disappeared through the door. Harry sat down, along with Ron, looking pleased with having diverted a possible catastrophe. But to Jude's eyes, he appeared to enjoy the defeat a little--hey, it was his right to revel in the glory of having shot down a rival. This was not a problem in and of itself, but Jude could tell that he was someone who was used to winning,it was something that came easily to him. And because Jude understood this, she understood Malfoy's jealousy and loathing for the kid.

Settling back into a comfortable position, Jude stared out the window as Hermione scolded Ron for some rash comment. The rain thickened, coating the windows in a glistening sheet of water that blurred the rapidly passing landscape. The sky passed from a pearly, gunmetal gray to inky black and lanterns flickered to life throughout the train. The train rattled and rocked back and forth in the pounding rain and buffeting winds. Lightning periodically illuminated the landscape and thunder broke the monotonous clicking of the train on the tracks. Jude stared, unbelieving--Professor Lupin was still asleep.

"We must be nearly there," said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the black, rain-streaked window.

No sooner had he said this than the train began to slow. Jude was relieved--the ride had been blissfully uneventful and safe. And completely boring. But it seemed that the length of the journey had been shorter than she remembered.

"Great," said Ron, carefully stepping over the professor's outstretched legs to look out the window again. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast..."

"We can't be there yet," said Hermione, checking her watch.

"So why are we stopping?" Ron asked exactly what Jude was wondering. Her senses were more acute as a cat, and above the whistling of the wind outside, she could hear the sound of the pistons slackening. They were stopping, but Jude agreed with Hermione that it was too early to be in Hogsmeade yet. This was not good.

She immediately regretted having wished for excitement. She liked boring--boring was good. This was unnerving.

The train halted with a final jolt, throwing luggage from the overhead racks to the floor with a bang that sounded along the corridor as it happened simultaneously in the other compartments. Then, without warning, all of the lamps flickered and died in one instant and the whole of the train was plunged into a deep darkness.

Jude blinked. It was always strange trying to adjust to the phosphorescent hues of night vision. Being a cat had a few advantages she was thankful for. Fighting the urge to lick herselfwas a pain in the ass, but being able to see in complete darkness was invaluable. The night vision reminded her of a movie she'd seen not too long ago with Rhys, where this FBI agent was playing cat and mouse with a psycho serial killer who'd tripped the lights in his twisted serial killer house and only he had night-vision goggles. It kind of freaked her out now to be able to see in the dark. But she'd rather have the advantage the killer had than to be groping around in the dark, pointing a gun at anything that made noise like the FBI agent, while the crazy man played mind games. The movie wasn't that scary, and she remembered Rhys liked that part especially. But the situation she found herself in now made it seem all too real. How helpless everyone else on this train must feel. She had to find out what was going on, but she would wait for everyone to settle down first--she didn't fancy being trampled to death by a bunch of frantic students.

"What's going on?" she heard Ron say, watching him feel around in the dark for a way back to his seat from the window.

"Ouch!" Jude saw Ron stumble over what he thought was just luggage. "Ron, that was my foot!" Hermione hissed into the darkness.

She saw Harry making his way back to his seat from the door, where he'd poked his head out to see what was going on. "Do you think we've broken down?"

"Dunno..."

Jude watched as Ron got up again and stumbled over to the window again. There was a squeaking sound as he wiped the condensation off of the window to get a better look outside.

"There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming on board."

People? As in plural, Jude thought. It wasn't Black, then. She sighed in relief, jumping down from the seat and heading for the door. She wanted to check things out for herself, however. Just to be safe. But before she reached the door, a figure stumbled over Harry's legs and into the compartment, almost flattening Jude. She hissed and jumped back into the safety of her seat.

"Sorry--d'you know what's going on?--ouch--sorry--"

"Hullo, Neville," said Harry. Jude saw him feeling around for his friend, finally finding him on the floor and pulled him up by the cloak.

"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea--sit down--"

The boy stumbled over to where Jude sat and if it hadn't been for a well-timed hiss, she would have been sat on.

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," she heard Hermione say and saw her step toward the open door. Jude jumped down to follow her. She wanted more than anything to know what the hell was happening. But a thud and two loud squeals put Jude off track. "Who's that?"

"Who's that?" A girl standing in front of Hermione called back.

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"The girl closed the door behind her. Well, there went any chance she had to explore the train and see why they had stopped--unless she wanted to risk turning back into a human and opening the door for herself.

Jude left the floor and jumped up to perch in the luggage rack--it was getting crowded in here. And if anyone threatening came through the door, she could jump on them from here. It was as good of a plan as she could come up with--and it might work, but she would earn no points for style.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked as she took her seat.

"I was looking for Ron--" the stranger said plaintively.

"Come in and sit down--" Ron commanded and the girl complied, taking the nearest seat.

"Not here!" said Harry quickly. "I'm here."

The girl hurriedly retreated into the seat in the corner, which Jude had just recently relinquished. Neville made his presence known as the girl clambered over him to her seat, eliciting a weak "Ouch!" from him.

"Quiet!" came a hoarse voice suddenly, causing Jude to whip her head away from the door and in the direction of the speaker. It was the professor. He was no longer asleep, but on his feet and approaching the door slowly, stepping through the piles of boxes and bags on the floor. There was a small, crackling noise from the professor's direction. Jude kept her eye on him, and saw that he'd created a handful of flames that sent a shivering light into the dark of the compartment. The light illuminated his face, which no longer looked ill and exhausted, but alert and cautious.

"Stay where you are," he commanded in the same hoarse tone, moving closer to the door.

But the door slid slowly open before the professor reached it.

Jude turned her lamp-like eyes, reflecting the shivering light from the ball of flames in Lupin'shand, to the door where she saw a towering figure shrouded in a black cloak. Its face was covered in the folds of its hood, but Jude knew exactly what it was. A dementor.

The cabin was bathed with icy, still air. It turned its head slowly, taking in the presence of every person in front of it. Jude saw nothing beyond the figure--it filled the whole of her vision. She wanted to close her eyes, not to look at it, but was strangely compelled to stare at it--like a gruesome accident that you can't help but gawk at. Jude felt it--it was just as they'd said. It felt like drowning in a pool of ice and sorrow. Followers of Voldemort used to try to frighten her with stories of the dreaded guardians of Azkaban, but she only half-believed them. But she realized the truth in this moment--a harsh, frigid and blinding reality.

Even though her human emotions were dulled due to her feline form, she still saw them--the faces of the people she'd murdered. James was standing in front of her, astonishment chasing every other expression from his face as he watched her pronounce the words that killed him. He didn't believe that a child could be capable of such things, but this one proved him wrong. His surprised, accusing face faded finally, and Jude breathed a sigh of relief only to feel it catch in her chest. James faded only to be replaced by Rhys.

She was sinking, falling deeper into the depths of this freezing despair. It was Rhys as he'd appeared when he'd learned who she really was--staring, wide-eyed, disbelieving, hoping that she would tell him it was all not true. It was the way he looked at her before realizing that it was glaringly real--she really was that person, a killer--and not the girl he loved more than anything else in the world. His face told her how much the deceit hurt him and how much he despised her at that moment. It was the moment before he died. And he'd died hating her. She could see it plainly in his eyes. She would be stuck in this moment forever.

"Harry! Harry! Are you all right?" Jude shook her head, which was as fuzzy on the inside as it was outside and as she woke up, she noticed that the lights were back on and the train was moving again. She blinked over and over again, forcing the spots that swam before her eyes to part so she could see what was happening below her. She fought to slow her breathing, but it resisted, racing instead to keep pace with her heartbeat. Staring down at the floor, battling a wave of dizziness, she saw Harry lying flat with Hermione and Ron bent over him, shaking him. The other boy was standing next to Professor Lupin, who was looking concerned.

"W--What?"Harry was snapping out of it. She felt horrible. She couldn't imagine what he could possibly have seen. Her cat's mind had dulled the trauma somewhat for her--she couldn't imagine facing that thing with her human feelings as Harry had. He looked sick--so did the small redhead huddled in the corner. Another Weasley? Jude thought absently as Ron and Hermione heaved Harry back onto his seat.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked nervously.

"Yeah," said Harry, looking quickly toward the door. He looked like many things to Jude, but fine was not one of them. It was her fault--she was supposed to be looking out for him and she let him face a dementor--alone. "What happened? Where's that--that thing? Who screamed?"

Jude sank down into the shadows of the rack. So he'd heard something? It could have been anything--he had plenty of bad memories--but it never struck Jude that he'd hear something awful instead of seeing something, as she had. It was puzzling.

"No one screamed," said Ron, still nervous. Ginny and Neville both looked over at Harry--and both were very pale. Jude looked carefully at the boy and then at the girl. Had they seen or heard something as well? She turned back to Harry.

"But I heard screaming--" he insisted. Another memory of the same movie came to mind. It was the scene where the FBI agent is manipulated by an incarcerated criminal--a psychopath that just so happens to be a brilliant psychologist. He asks her why she doesn't go back to the farm she grew up on and why she ran away in the first place. She confesses that she saw her father--or was it stepfather, Jude couldn't really remember it clearly--slaughtering lambs. The screaming of the victims played over and over in the agent's head, a reason she had become the person she was--she wanted to silence the lambs. Jude knew it was a movie, but this was startlingly real--however bad Jodi Foster looked as she remembered the lambs, Harry looked worse. She couldn't guess what innocent person's screams Harry heard while drowning in the dementor's power, she had the sick feeling that she'd somehow had a hand in that person's suffering.

A loud snap brought her out of the miserable thoughts. Professor Lupin was breaking up a large bar of chocolate and handing it to the frightened students around him. He instructed them to eat it as he left to talk to the driver. Jude watched the scene distractedly. Her mind was a muddled mess of memories--mostly of Rhys. She cherished every remembrance of him, but now they were almost too painful to bear. She laid her head down wearily on her paws, not able to move an inch, she was shaking so hard. The kids discussed the events with gravity and barely suppressed excitement as soon as the teacher was out of the cabin. Jude wanted to listen, but at the same time she just wanted to stare blankly at the wall and ignore everything.

Professor Lupinreturned and announced that they would be at Hogwarts in ten minutes. Jude was thankful for the pronouncement--she wanted off of this damned train with every fiber of her being.

"Are you all right, Harry?" the professor asked, eyeing Harry with concern.

Jude turned wearily and cocked her head at these words? How did he know Harry's name? She shook her head, remembering that he was connected somehow to Harry's father. She allowed Hermione to put her back into the wicker jail without the least bit of a fuss--she was simply too damn tired to care that the walls were closing in around her. It didn't seem to matter anymore. She wanted to curl up somewhere warm and safe and disappear--but where does one hide from tormenting memories? Answer that, Miss Know-It-All, she thought ungraciously as Hermione clasped the basket shut and set it carefully on the seat next to her. She was being irrational and she knew it. All this self-pity and defeatist mentality would have to go if she was to put her mind to finding Sirius Black. As soon as she got to the castle she'd begin her investigation, and for that she needed her head on straight or Black would slip through her fingers.