The Book Of Jude

Chapter Twenty-Four: Confession

'Nothing is worth doing unless the consequences may be serious,' G. B. Shaw

The feeble rays of the morning sun penetrated the dusty and familiar halls of the old castle. The weak light of the dawn was bright enough only to cast the dimmest of shadows on the floor, yet dark enough to remain unseen if that was one's desire. A solitary ginger cat padded silently through these quiet corridors, careful to remain out of the light and shrouded in the waning darkness. It stopped frequently, looking up and down the passage before halting its progress altogether in front of a massive stone gargoyle.

Then, as if watching a beanstalk grow captured on time elapsed film, the cat became human. What once had been a cat was now a short, young woman who continued to jerk her head left and right in a quirky, feline fashion, apparently terrified that anyone might come around a corner at any moment. But she was alone--no one was there to see her and, satisfied of this fact, she turned her full attention to the marble guardian in front of the door to the Headmaster's office. She studied the object silently for sometime, then after another quick check to see if she'd been spotted, began to speak low but rapidly to the guardian.

If anyone had been passing that door at that particular hour in the morning, they would have been greeted with the most curious of sights--a girl with unremarkable sandy brown hair, short but too tall to be mistaken for a student, yet too young to pass as a teacher was standing, barefoot, in front of the Headmaster's office whispering emphatically at the gargoyle who refused to budge. She hissed odd words, such as "sugar quill," "cockroach cluster," and "jelly slugs," but to no avail. The gargoyle continued to stare down on her, the cold stone eyes, impassive and immovable. The girl stomped her foot on the cold flagstone floor of the corridor then swore, wincing in pain as her bare foot connected with the hard surface.

Throwing her hands up in resignation, she said the last thing she could think of, the well of words in her head beginning to dry up. "Ice Mice!" she yelled a little louder than was necessary, and quailed as her voice echoed down the empty corridor. Eyes darting from right to left and then back again, she saw nothing to alarm her. The stone guardian, however, had moved over to allow entrance to the chambers beyond. It worked.

Quickly, before anyone became aware of her presence, she dropped back to the cold, hard floor, her four paws silent on the ground as bare feet had been only seconds earlier. The ginger cat, bottlebrush tail straight in the air, bounded up the winding steps concealed behind the menacing gargoyle. She quickly reached the top of the stairs, halting at the wooden door that barred further progress, and listened. Hearing no sounds from within the room beyond the heavy oaken door, she placed her two front paws on the door and threw her weight against it. She was large for a domestic cat, but she was a cat nonetheless and was skeptical that her weight would be significant enough to move the door on its hinges. It was even ludicrous to think that the door would not be locked or even latched, she thought but was surprised as she felt something give. The door creaked as it opened a crack, just big enough for a small animal--a cat, for example--to sneak through.

She trotted into the empty office, breathing the familiar air, smelling mint tea and lemon drops. Breaking into Dumbledore's office had been a snap, and she was chiding herself mentally for having been so paranoid, fearing to be found out at every corner's bend. But she had to come; she had a million questions that needed answers and they would not wait for daylight. Besides, sleep was a far off and elusive dream for her after the images conjured up before her eyes--a gift from the friendly neighborhood dementors--refused to die. It wasn't entirely the accomplishment of the dementors--they'd only made the scenes she'd seen every time she closed her eyes more startlingly and glaringly real. Oh, well, she sighed, there's no better time like the present to get on with the capture of a wanted criminal. And she needed Dumbledore's help. Feeling a pair of eyes on her as she crossed the space to the desk, she leaped lightly onto the polished and well-organized surface, and turned to face the presence, curling her bushy tail around her feet. She stared back. Fawkes, eyes alight with renewed youth, marked her every movement, but made no sign of unease at her presence. She held the stare of the phoenix insolently, knowing that she shouldn't provoke the bird into alarming someone of her presence, but couldn't help it. This bird could easily be just as superior and stuck up as Harry's infuriating owl, and she was in a particularly irreverent mood.

Not breaking the stare, she saw the door swing the full radius, allowing a clear view of the person behind it. Out of the corner of her feline eye, she could discern the figure of the Headmaster, a look of wary alarm melting from his face to be replaced by surprise and--recognition? She finally looked away from the haughty bird to look at Dumbledore. He was smiling. He couldn't possibly...

She had been debating whether or not to tell her Headmaster and mentor a secret she'd held for fourteen years. It would have been difficult to tell him all of those years ago that, not only was she a child with dangerous powers and a violent past--but she'd performed a risky and illegal transformation at the age of eight. It was agony to have to tell him now. She'd kept it from everyone--teachers, students, and the Ministry. He'd been no exception--but she felt guilty for having betrayed his trust in the first place.

She shifted her weight from one paw to the next, her shoulders making that distinct feline movement particular to all cats. She was nervous, but there was no backing down now, she realized as the old wizard strode over to her and examined her closer. She watched as he narrowed his sparkling eyes behind the characteristic half-moon spectacles. His gaze came to rest on one of her ginger paws and a knowing smile spread across his face.

"Hello, Jude." It was an exclamation that was not wasted on her. She started at the sound of her name. The Headmaster's eyes twinkled in triumph and, to Jude's relief, he didn't look angry in the least.

The cat perched on the edge of the professor's desk became the same short, unremarkable young woman who'd spoken to the gargoyle outside. She remained sitting on the desk, swinging her bare feet several inches above the ground, and cocked her head curiously at the old man as he turned away to close the door they both had left ajar.

"How did you know...?" Jude began, confused at the ease with which her secret had so unceremoniously been revealed to her audience.

Turning back toward Jude as the door snapped shut, he simply smiled and pointed to her arm--her hands were folded loosely in her lap, her silver band on one wrist caught the dim light and glinted coldly. "Animagi tend to incorporate articles such as eyeglasses...and jewelry into their animal form." He was still smiling, apparently very pleased with himself. "Imagine my surprise when I enter my office in the early hours of the morning to find the door open and a foreign cat perched atop my desk. And then, to my relief, upon closer inspection, I realize that the cat has a white--almost silver--band of fur around its left paw. I recall that a certain willful, impetuous student is rarely seen without a similar band. Very curious indeed."

Jude huffed indignantly. "Okay, next time, I'll make things harder on you." She couldn't believe that she'd forgotten that simple everyday items on a person would be transformed along with the person, giving them distinct markings. She'd been the first in her class to point out the spectacle pattern around McGonagall's tabby's eyes. She looked down at the bracelet, shining brilliantly in the low light. She would risk anyone else guessing Dumbledore's discovery--she would never take this bracelet off again. She would be safe at least from the kids discovering anything; as far as she knew, they had not discovered her real connections to...

"So this is your plan, my dear?" Dumbledore asked quickly, lighting a lamp before taking a seat in front of his own desk and Jude.

Jude looked down at her fingernails and nodded sheepishly. "It's not very good, I know. But I didn't want the students to know I was around, especially not after what happened last time..."

Jude broke off as Dumbledore raised a hand. "I said nothing to that effect, my dear. It is an excellent plan..." his expression darkened. "However, I can't help but warn you. You do realize how risky this is?" He was looking earnestly at her, searching for some sign that she was aware of the full weight of this decision.

"I know...The Ministry...but no one knows except you..." She became silent once more as Dumbledore motioned.

"You have more than the Ministry to fear in this venture, Jude." Rising from his chair, he crossed the room to a window. Jude followed him with a questioning glance as he motioned her to come as well. He pointed down the rolling hills that spread from the castle to the extent of the grounds. Jude peered, squinting in the strengthening golden rays of the dawn as they filtered through the glass and dust. There was something moving at the edge of the forest and at the gates just to the south of that. Jude gasped, horror leaving no question as to whether she was familiar with the sight she was beholding.

"You know what they are?" Dumbledore gave her a curious glance, as she looked stricken at the view from the window.

She gulped and nodded. Black-hooded figures prowled the shadows at the entrances to the school. Dementors."I was on the train..." Jude explained feebly.

"Then you know that even this transformation, impressive as it is, is no defense for those creatures...and they do not forgive if one tries to deceive them." Dumbledore had turned to face Jude, but her eyes were fixed on the moving forms shrouded in black below.

"Are they here because of..." she asked, her voice a little shaky.

"Black?Yes." His voice betrayed a bit of regret that these creatures were hunting the convict, even though he no doubt deserved the torture.

"I have a confession to make," Jude said quickly, startling the old man. "I didn't just come up with this idea--I've had this ability since...I did it with...Voldemort'shelp," she choked out. "Years ago!" she added, her eyes wide, fearing he might become angry with her. "I didn't tell you," shepursued rapidly, ignoring the Headmaster, "because, I don't know! Because I was stupid and I didn't want to be different from any of the other kids, I guess." She sounded every bit as crestfallen as she looked. Her eyes remained on the rug and her dirty, shoeless feet. She couldn't look up at the professor, even though she was dying to know what he was thinking.

"Well, I can't say that I'm not disappointed that you kept such information from me..."

"I never transformed at school, honest. I haven't since, well, that night..." she protested frantically.

"Calm down, my dear. I understand why you would have remained silent on the subject. But this is a precarious situation you are in now." He turned away, looking out of the window pensively. "You must deal with those things out there," he spat, glaring out the window at the dementors, "if you want to find Black, and frankly, I don't see how you could manage to go after him without being discovered and the Ministry being alerted...or worse." He fell ominously silent.

"But I do. I need to find Black--there are a few things that don't add up and..."

The Headmaster held up a hand. "You can remain here and watch out for Harry...I dare say your disguise is perfect for that...but as for Black, I am afraid I shouldn't have asked you to become involved with him in the first place. That is something that is best left to them." He glared once more out onto the grounds, the colors becoming more vibrant as the morning grew brighter.

"I will continue to do my duty to Harry, but Headmaster, I must insist that I continue searching for Black. I can't say for sure now, but I think there is more to this story than anyone can guess. I've found..." Jude paused awkwardly, unsure of how much she was willing to divulge at this time and if Dumbledore would simply think she'd finally cracked up. "I've found some new information...and I think Black might be innocent, of some things." She finished boldly, her lips pressed tightly together in a fervently determined expression.

The Headmaster stared at her in concealed astonishment. He evidently wanted to hear more evidence as to why Jude thought this murderer was innocent. Jude remained resolute and determined to carry her point. But she wouldn't tell the professor about Peter--not until she was absolutely sure. And she wouldn't be certain of that until she'd caught the little bugger and made him talk. Soon, she promised herself mentally.

"I would be very interested in hearing why you think so." He was looking gravely at her, and suddenly she felt ten years old again, standing in front of the Headmaster's desk promising that she would cause no trouble for him if he allowed her to attend Hogwarts and not to send her to Azkaban.

"Well, Black was supposed to be the heir apparent to Voldemort, according to the Daily Prophet anyway. They said that he was in the thick of things concerning Voldemort." Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, but he operated all in secret and no one really knows how close he was to Voldemorthimself--it is all conjecture. But it is valid that he was a spy for His side."

Jude listened as Dumbledore affirmed the allegations. "But then, isn't it curious that I've never heard of him before?"

The Headmaster stared at his former pupil, deep in thought. "Well, I suppose that is odd, but not completely unlikely that the name of one of his informants had never reached you."

Jude smiled wryly. "Did I ever mention what exactly my duties to Voldemort entailed?"

"No," the Headmaster returned her smile and sat behind his desk. "Explain."

"I was a spy." She raised her eyebrows as she revealed this bit of information. "That is why I am an Animagus. I was used to keep tabs on His followers--to root out the unfaithful and to make sure His informants weren't double agents."

"That sounds like quite the dangerous job to hand to an eight-year-old." Dumbledore looked a bit skeptical.

Jude frowned and shook her head. "Not really. My task was only to collect information--never to act on it. And most of the time, the people I spied on didn't even know I was there. I brought Voldemort the evidence and He acted...," she swallowed hard, "accordingly."

She leaned casually against the corner of his desk. "Now do you think it's odd that I've never heard his name?"

The Headmaster nodded judiciously. He sighed and looked out the window, falling back into his chair. "And you are certain you want to go through with this?"

She followed his eyes as they gazed out of the window. The looming figures of the milling dementorsclaimed her attention immediately. She shuddered involuntarily then tore her eyes away from the window. "Yes." Her voice was hard and immovable with determination.

"And do you remember what you saw, what you felt when the dementors were near on the train? Do you think you can relive that every time you leave the castle grounds?" Dumbledore removed his stare from the window and looked at Jude again, hoping to see that stubborn determination crumble.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying not to remember what she saw--how real it all was--last night on the train. Opening her eyes once more, the fear was replaced with a steely, disconcerting sort of disassociation. If she wanted to, she could chose not to feel--it was all in her mind.

"I can," her voice was brutally sharp in her own ears, but she was determined to do this with or without Dumbledore's go-ahead.

The Headmaster sighed reluctantly and said, "Be careful, Jude. Avoid the dementors at all costs. Animal feelings may not be as complex as human emotion, but it will still draw the loathsome creatures. Don't do anything..."

"Foolish?" she finished for the professor who smiled warily. "Don't worry, Headmaster. I haven't done anything foolish in at least six weeks." She smiled back at the Headmaster before her eyes were drawn up to a shelf above his head. An object she'd examined through its glass case frequently during visits to this office caught her eye. It was a magnificent sword. But it was different from how she'd remembered it--gleaming gold with sparkling rubies encrusted on the hilt. Now it seemed dull, sullied and spotted--as if it had been submersed in some corrosive liquid.

"Sir!" she exclaimed. "What happened to your sword? It looks like..."

"Like basilisk blood?" he said, sounding pleased that she'd noticed such a minute detail. She was, indeed, an excellent observer. "It has, in fact, killed a basilisk. Just this past year, Harry Potter used it to finish off the monster from the infamous Chamber of Secrets."

"A basilisk?So that was the big deal?" Jude said, sounding more offhand than she meant to sound. Harry Potter apparently couldn't finish a school year without some big heroic show to end it all. "Do I even want to know what that was all about?"

"You haven't heard?" the Headmaster asked, sounding astonished.

"The Minister said something vaguely on the subject. He tried to pin whatever the hell happened on me, even though I hadn't the foggiest clue of what I was being accused of and he wasn't inclined to explain." Jude glanced back up at the dulled sword. "So did you find out who was behind opening the Chamber?" She couldn't help it--curiosity was an evil thing.

"Yes, and I'm quite surprised the Minister would have thought you were behind it. By the way, congratulations are due to you for completing your final year at Cambridge. A degree in Literature, I hear?"

Jude nodded and mumbled a quick word of thanks. "But who..."
"I see you are not to be easily deterred." The Headmaster's eyes were twinkling like an impish child who concealed a delicious secret. "The person behind the fiasco, I assumed was none other than Lucius Malfoy."

Had Jude been a cat at that moment, she was sure that every ginger hair would be on end. If there was one person she loathed more than sniveling Peter, it was LuciusMalfoy. "No wonder they wanted to arrest me for some invented involvement. They needed someone and couldn't very well blame it on Malfoy. Was anyone hurt?"

"Harry, of course, nearly died, but managed to come out perfectly fine in the end.Virginia Weasley fared a little worse than Mr. Potter, but no lasting scars. And our esteemed Defense Againstthe Dark Arts teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart, lost his memory due to a misfired curse from his own wand." The Headmaster shook his head, but whether from pity or incredulity, Jude could not tell. There was yet another Weasley? Jude thought then she remembered the redhead girl on the train who looked almost as bad as she herself felt. She could imagine what the girl might see when the dementorcame close.

"Lockhart was the Defense teacher?" Jude looked disbelieving at the Headmaster. "What I wouldn't give to see that moron teach a class." And in an uncanny impression of the narcissistic best-selling author, she continued, "Good day, class. This is a hairbrush and this is a mirror, which are intended to be used thus."

"I thought he had potential..." the Headmaster smiled wryly at Jude's incredulous glare. "Just not as a teacher."

"Or in any profession that requires actual knowledge of a subject," Jude scoffed. But her words reminded her of something. Professor Lupin, the new Defense teacher, seemed more than capable of the position on the train and, indeed, by comparison, Quirrell seemed slightly incompetent and Lockhart seemed like a buffoon next to him. "And this new teacher?" Jude prompted the professor, who looked up with the expression of one possessed of infinite knowledge of a subject, but is only willing to divulge a little.

"He is quite capable, I can assure you. One of my most gifted students." Jude couldn't help the slightly hurt expression from showing on her face. "One of Black's closest friends." Jude crossed her arms, her face an unreadable mask. She didn't want much from the Headmaster, just assurance that she had nothing to worry about from his newest teacher. "Until Black betrayed James. You have no cause to be uneasy about him, Jude. I trust him." He rose from his chair and stood before her.

"Then I trust him."

The Headmaster beamed on her. "I wish there was something I could say to persuade you not to continue with this, my dear."

Jude shook her head sorrowfully. She wished she could alleviate the Headmaster's unease, but she had to do this. Black may be innocent. She could not see someone carted back to that hell he came from knowing that she could have stopped it. She hoped someone would do the same for her. And as she looked into the kind face of her mentor before her, she realized someone had done exactly that for her. "I need to do this," she said simply.

"Then," he said with finality, "do be careful. Don't try to be heroic..."

Jude scoffed. "Heroic? I'm a Slytherin, remember? You have nothing to worry about on that point." She gave the Headmaster an impish grin before a ginger cat slipped silently out of the office, down the steps and past the gargoyle.