The Book Of Jude

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Giving Up

'Tease me, by holding out your hand

Then leave me, or take me as I am

And live our lives, stigmatized'

The Calling, Stigmatized

It was early in the morning--Jude could tell by the indigo sky fading to gray as the first fingers of the dawn stretched over the horizon casting dull shadows on the floor of the Common Room. She'd given up her exhaustive searches of the school, the purpose of which was now obsolete. Black had been found--she'd followed him and had been reluctantly convinced of his innocence. Whether she liked it or not, they were now partners in bringing Peter to justice and finally setting the record straight.

Jude stretched then leapt up to sit on the sill of the window in an alcove off a bend of the staircase. It looked like rain. Glancing out past the forbidden forest, she thought of Black hiding in his cave, exiled from the world around him. She had visited him only on a couple of instances since they had reached a mutual agreement on Halloween. He'd allowed her only two months to get Peter and make him talk before he went after him alone. Jude knew he was growing impatient with her--she could sense it every time she saw him. He would ask her if she'd done what she had promised and then would silently fume as she pathetically defended herself to him. So, she'd decided to leave off filling him in on every detail and bent her efforts toward catching Peter. Her attempts had become more audacious lately as she became desperate to fulfill her vow to Black. His trust in her was waning and suspicion growing as time pressed on and she still hadn't delivered. Soon, he would be out for blood and Jude would be powerless to stop him from killing Peter and condemning himself once again to his hell in Azkaban. And who knew? Maybe she would end up there too if Black was to carry out his murderous plot.

Her head snapped around at the sound of a door creaking open on rusty, ancient hinges. She abandoned her thoughts and immediately padded softly up the stairs. The door swung open slowly to allow Harry passage through. Jude seized her opportunity and tried to slink past him into the dormitory where, no doubt, Peter was hidden within. But Harry had damn quick reflexes and swiftly hauled her back through the door by her bushy ginger tail.

"You know, I reckon Ron was right about you. There are plenty of mice around this place--go and chase them. Go on," he said as he nudged Jude down the stairs with one foot. "Leave Scabbers alone."

Jude leapt lightly onto a stone banister and eyed Harry angrily as he passed. She wondered if any of these boys realized what danger they were in at the moment--Peter Pettigrew, a former Death Eater, had been hiding out as a rat for God knows how long in their dormitory. And somehow, she was the villain! She shook her head incredulously. Another opportunity shot to hell--this was going to be a long day.

***

Jude had not realized that today was a game day. When she'd finally slipped out of the Common Room, she was greeted with crowded halls full of excited students all buzzing with statistics and bets as to who would win. The exuberant chatter was punctuated by peels of thunder--what a fine day for a Quidditch game, Jude thought maliciously. She was thankful that, in a matter of a few hours, she would practically have the castle all to herself--and Peter was as good as hers.

As the halls cleared out and the students made their way out into the merciless deluge, Jude crept back up to the Common Room. She smiled inwardly as she looked around--the room was completely empty. Padding silently up the stairs, she listened for any signs that the dormitory where the third year boys slept was occupied. All was silent except for the pounding rain and crashing thunder. She transformed from feline to human and slowly opened the door before dropping back to all fours as the ginger cat and entered the room. She couldn't let Peter see her--if he was hard to find now, he'd flee never to be seen again if he knew she was hunting him. She prowled through the room, careful not to make a sound. She checked the beds, drawers, drapes...everywhere. Peter was not there. She sighed heavily, understanding that she had once again been defeated. Gritting her teeth angrily, she knew who was responsible for thwarting her. Ron.

She jumped down from the bed she'd thoroughly combed only moments before and made her way silently out of the room and down the stairs again. Debating whether she should wade through the mud and muck to keep an eye on Ron and his rat and wait patiently for another opportunity, or curl up by the fire and forget everything for a few hours, Jude finally decided to brave the storm. She would not be made a fool of by Voldemort's sniveling servant--the same man who used to cower under her glare. Exiting the castle, she immediately regretted her decision. Cats hate to get wet.

Halfway to the Quidditch pitch, Jude froze. The game was already well under way even though it seemed near impossible to fly a broom under such conditions--well, at least it seemed impossible to her--she hated flying. But the sight of the players fighting the gales was not what caught her attention. In the top row of the stands boasting gold and scarlet banners, Jude glimpsed a large, shaggy black dog, his fur soaked with rain. She stared unblinkingly through the deluge, scowling as much as possible for a cat. What the hell did Black think he was doing taking risks like this? She bounded furiously toward the stand and watched, shaking with rage as the dog descended. But the dog hadn't noticed her...he was fleeing the grounds for another reason and in an instant Jude knew what that reason was. He undoubtedly felt the unmistakable chill the dementors wrought in their wake. As the cold swept over her in successive waves, she saw dozens of dementors flocking to the swarms of cheering students. Jude's eyes widened in terror as she realized their destination and she wondered if Dumbledore would be present at the game to ward off the immense threat before her thoughts were lost in her own miserable memories. Those memories too faded in succession as she sunk further into a sea of cold, black nothingness.

***

"What the hell were you doing there?" Jude raged, her voice echoing loudly off of the cavernous walls of the grotto Black had been hiding in.

"Now I have to ask your permission to leave this wretched cave?" Black bellowed back matching Jude's tone and volume. "I just wanted to see my godson again, that's all."

"Well, you'll be able to see him all you want to after you're free. But until then, it's too dangerous for you to just go anywhere you please." Jude felt a little remorse at keeping him from Harry, but it was necessary until he was cleared.

Black shook his head morosely. "You don't get it, do you?" His harsh glare caused her to back down. "I am never going to be free. To them I will always be guilty...hell, even I'm not convinced of my own innocence."

Jude shook her head. "But I am."

He looked up at her from his seat on the dusty floor of the cold and damp cave. "And who are you? Why should anyone believe you when you tell them I'm not guilty?" His eyes were piercing and accusing. "You won't tell me your name or anything about you, and I'm just supposed to trust you implicitly?"

She crossed her arms defensively and returned his cold glare. "No one will believe me if I don't get Peter."

At the sound of the name, Black bristled and spat "just let me kill him. I'm tired of waiting for you to come through on your end."

Jude's shoulders dropped for the moment. He was right--he had no reason to trust her. But seeing him just give up like this made her angry. He wasn't the only one with something at stake here. "And this is all the thanks I get for trying to help you?" Her chest was rising and falling as she huffed angrily, trying in vain to control her temper. "I put my ass on the line for you, Black, and this is what I get? The Ministry has wanted to throw me in Azkaban since I was ten and now they may get their wish just because you're tired of waiting!" Jude bit back the rest of the accusations that were desperate to come out. She had already said too much and Black was looking at her more suspiciously by the moment.

Finally, he broke the tense silence. "Is that what you want? Praise for clearing the name of the infamous Sirius Black?"

"No!" she spat indignantly. "In fact, I'd rather stay out of sight in all of this. I'd be signing my own death warrant if anyone got word I was helping you--guilty or not."

Black stared at her judiciously. "What is your stake in all of this? What do you have to lose?"

She thought for a moment on the questions. She had hoped to prove to the Ministry that they were wrong about Black...that they had made a mistake. She wanted to show everyone that they had been wrong about them both. He was innocent and she was trustworthy. But now, those hopes seemed ridiculous. She and Black were the same--they would forever be stigmatized. Shaking her head she replied with little feeling. "Nothing."

"Then why should I believe that you would keep your promise? I don't know anything about you...not even your name. Give me a reason to trust you."

There was another indeterminably long silence. The silence was finally interrupted by Jude's reply--barely audible above the storm still raging outside.

"What did you say?" Black barked, wasting little sympathy on Jude as she struggled for words.

She didn't want to tell this man anything about her. If he had a sharp memory, he should have already recognized her. But it was clear that he hadn't realized she was the girl present at the scene of the crime the night his best friend was murdered. His harsh glare implored her to answer him however. "My name is Jude," she replied, meeting his stare insolently. She watched nervously as he scowled, trying to place the name with the memory. To her relief, he seemed not to have made the connection.

"And why should I trust you, Jude?" he asked less harshly than before, but his voice still had a sharp edge to it.

She shook her head. "Because you have no other choice."

He snorted incredulously at her answer. "Of course I have--,"

She interrupted him coldly. "Yes, but it's not very pleasant. Still, if that's what you want, I think there are five or so dementors milling about in the woods. I'll be happy to introduce you." She was a little pleased to see him shiver at the name of the dreaded creatures. So he still possessed some sense.

He leaned his head wearily against the stone. After a thoughtful pause, Black tossed something at her feet. "Or you could just finish me off."

She looked at the object glistening just out of her reach. It was the knife she'd held at his throat on Halloween night. "No one could blame you...say it was self defense...just promise you'll kill the rat for me."

Narrowing her eyes at him, she knew from this pronouncement that he did not want to return to Azkaban. She picked up the knife and examined it for a few minutes. He couldn't have realized what he was asking her, but the request stung all the same. She had vowed never to murder again and she wouldn't betray that promise for anyone. She threw the knife hard at the opposite wall where it bit into the stone above Black's head, imbedding itself a few inches in the rock. "No," she replied blandly. "You owe James more than that. And you owe Harry more than that." She could have added that she too owed both of them as much as he did.

"How is Harry?" Black asked quietly. He'd fled at the sight of the dementors but had realized he was not their intended target.

"He's fine," Jude answered dispassionately. "Dumbledore was there. He's pretty upset about losing the game, so I heard. And his friends said his broom got smashed up pretty bad in that willow." She jerked her head in the direction of the Whomping Willow, clearly agitated at Black's change of subject. After an awkward silence, Jude continued. "I will get Peter, make no mistake of that. But it will take some more time and patience." She studied Black's mutinous expression for a while. "Are you willing to help me make everything right, Black?"

He reluctantly nodded.

She wanted to believe him, but she knew that his conscious demanded quick and thorough recompense. She would have to act quickly to bring Peter in or Black would have his revenge. She left the cave after carefully studying Black's face, willing him to trust her--but she knew that trust had to be earned.

***

Jude hadn't treaded the path in the woods to the cave in almost a month--she'd decided not to visit Black until she had caught Peter. He would have to suffer his impatience by himself--Jude would no longer be party to his self-destructive plans. The grounds had become a crystalline world of frost and icicles and the students were buzzing with the excitement of the approaching holidays. She had begun exhaustive searches of the castle once more, but she was no longer hunting Black through the cold and dark halls. She was after Peter. She had become increasingly anxious to find him--for Black's sanity and for her own. She was becoming just as impatient. It had been weeks since she'd actually seen Peter or heard him mentioned by Ron, so she knew he hadn't disappeared as of yet. But every time she searched the third year boys' room, he was nowhere to be seen.

After nearly a month of wearying and constant searches for Peter, Jude was beginning to feel the strain. She lay fitfully napping on Hermione's bed when the door slammed open against the wall. Hermione rushed in with a stack of books in her arms, which she threw wearily on the desk. Glancing at the titles of the books, Jude wondered what this was all about. She knew that, if giving the chance, Hermione would study herself into the ground--she'd been pushing that limit all term. The girl reminded her of Rhys--anything concerning his education could send the usually cool and collected man into a tizzy, even though he was sure to excel in anything he put his mind to. Jude felt a little pang as she thought of him, then decided it would do her no good to think of him at the moment, she pushed him from her mind and turned her attention back to Hermione.

"I can't find anything to help Hagrid with his trial, Crookshanks," Hermione sighed as she collapsed onto the bed next to the ginger cat. So that's what this was all about--she was helping Hagrid to win his case for Buckbeak. "The date has been set for April 20^th! That means I only have a few months to find something good...something that will convince them not to execute poor Beaky!" She spoke aloud to the cat as if it were a real person.

"Not far from the truth," Jude thought and felt a little guilty for having tricked the girl.

"And on top of my school work, it's going to be impossible. I guess I shouldn't expect much help from Harry and Ron!" she fumed to the cat.

Jude felt a little guilty for not being able to help Hagrid as well, but she reasoned that she could not risk the exposure. She hoped for Hermione's and Hagrid's sake that everything worked out and the Hippogriff walked away from all of this.

***

Christmas came too suddenly for Jude. Almost four months had passed and she was no closer to her goal. Cambridge seemed years away and the pain of losing everything was still severely acute as she stared out of the window of the snug room. Hermione was still asleep in the early dawn hours. Jude had not been able to rest. The past had not allowed her to close her eyes that night and she wondered if Black was aware what day it was, whether or not he was haunted by ghosts of memory as well.

"Merry Christmas!"

Jude turned quickly to see Hermione seizing an armload of presents from the foot of her bed. She tore through the paper of every parcel excitedly as Jude watched, glad that someone at least was enjoying the day. After the order was restored to the room--paper placed in the wastebasket and gifts placed neatly on her bed--Hermione tied a bit of cast-off tinsel around Jude's neck as she struggled mightily to make an escape before she scooped her up in her arms and pulled open the doors.

"Come on, Crookshanks." Hermione was padding down the steps in her slippers and robe quickly. "Let's see if the boys are up."

Entering the boys' dormitory, Jude did not try to hide her displeasure.

"Don't bring him in here!"

"Merry Christmas to you too, Ron," Jude thought maliciously as she noticed the boy snatch up the sickly rat and stow him in his pajama pocket.

Hermione didn't seem to notice and dropped her cat on an empty bed. She was staring open-mouthed at a broom in Harry's hands.

"Oh, Harry! Who sent you that?"

Jude tore her glare away from Ron's pocket and stared in disbelief at the broom. Jude took in every inch of the object with sharp eyes. It was the same one Harry was staring at in the shop in Diagon Alley.

"No idea," said Harry. "There wasn't a card or anything with it."

"It can't be..." Jude thought with disbelief. Black. He promised her not to take any more risks again then the bastard pulls something like this. Jude was seething with rage.

Hermione bit her lip, looking suspiciously at the broom. Jude knew the girl was smart, but her perceptiveness was uncanny and a little frightening. She knew exactly what the girl was thinking.

"What's the matter with you?" said Ron.

"I don't know," said Hermione slowly, "but it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?"

"It's the best broom there is, Hermione," Ron said exasperatedly.

"So it must've been really expensive..." Hermione continued. Jude was thinking the same thing. She'd told Black that Harry had lost his broom, but how on earth could he have gotten this one to him without drawing too much attention to himself. That was what was worrying her--he probably ignored the risk and did just exactly what he wanted to. She felt a little betrayed at his cavalier attitude toward clearing his name. She was risking everything that mattered to her--Dumbledore's trust--the only thing she still possessed, and he wanted to throw everything away. He wanted to get caught.

"Probably cost more that all the Slytherins' brooms put together," Ron answered happily.

"Well...who'd send Harry something as expensive as that, and not even tell him they'd sent it?" said Hermione.

"Who cares?" said Ron impatiently. "Listen, Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?"

"I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" Hermione said shrilly.

Jude was growing impatient with the conversation. She knew that the broom was not dangerous, but these three didn't. Hermione was right and had damn good reasons to be suspicious, but the boys would not listen to her. Jude felt indignant on her behalf, but this tinsel was getting on her nerves and she couldn't stand that Peter was so close and she could do nothing about it.

"What d'you think Harry's going to do with it--sweep the floor?" said Ron.

"That's it!" Jude thought as she sprang from the bed. She couldn't take it any longer. She landed right on Ron's chest and tore furiously at his shirt. Peter scrabbled up Ron's shoulder. Jude would have him this time.

"GET--HIM--OUT--OF--HERE!" Ron bellowed as Crookshanks's claws ripped at his pajamas. Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and held him out of Jude's frustrated grasp and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks that hit the trunk at the foot of Harry's bed instead. Ron hopped up and down, howling with pain.

An ear-splitting sound filled the room, causing Jude's fur to stand on end and she hissed despite herself.

"I forgot about that!" Harry said, bending down and picking up a Sneakoscope. "I never wear those socks if I can help it..."

The Sneakoscope whirled and whined. Jude squeezed her eyes shut, wincing in pain. It was like listening to a train whistle with a hangover.

"You'd better take that cat out of here, Hermione," said Ron furiously. Jude could not muster the slightest bit of sympathy for the boy as he sat clutching his foot. As far as she was concerned he deserved it. She fumed as Hermione scooped her up and left the room. Some how she knew that was her last chance. Peter definitely knew now that he was hunted by Voldemort's once-faithful spy.

***

Jude spent most of the morning staring out of the window of the girl's dormitory at the frosted landscape of early February, thinking about Peter, who'd been unusually scarce for the past few weeks. Hermione had buried herself in study until it was time for lunch. When she got up to leave her room, Jude tried to escape between her feet.

"Now, you've caused enough trouble, don't you think Crookshanks?" Hermione said as she nudged Jude back into the room with her foot, not unkindly. She shut the door after giving her cat an apologetic look.

"Damn it, Hermione!" Jude fumed. Listening for her steps to fade, Jude transformed back to her human form. Crossing the room to the door, she caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the mirror. She looked almost as bad as Black, she thought ruefully. Tentatively, she pulled the door open. The Common Room was deserted. She climbed the stairs to the familiar room. Silence. She pulled the door open slowly. Casting a furtive glance around, she saw no trace of Peter. It was as she expected.

As she turned back to the door, she noticed a piece of parchment lying on a table near the window. It was a list of passwords. She grabbed it off the table and stuffed it into her pocket. She failed. It was Black's turn now.

***

Jude stood, shivering in the entrance to the cave. It had taken her almost a week to calm down enough to face Black.

"Well?" Black finally asked, curious as to why she stood, unblinking and staring coldly at him.

"I lose. You win." She fished the list of passwords out of her pocket. Her fingers brushed against the worn parchment of her treasured letter and the metal of the golden bracelet. She tossed the list to Black. He examined it.

"I don't get it." He looked up from the list with a questioning glance.

"I give up. He's all yours."

"Oh," he said. He looked at the list pensively.

She furrowed her brows. She refused to feel guilty about giving up on him. He didn't want her to fight to prove his innocence, he'd shown that when he risked everything to give Harry that broom.

"What? This is what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted me to shove off so you could kill Peter, no questions asked, right?" Jude paced while Black just stared blankly back at her.

"You're giving up on me?" he finally asked.

"Why not? It's not like you ever gave me a chance. You don't trust me--you've shown me that by putting us both on the line...several times!" She stopped pacing and leveled an accusing glare in his direction.

"I just thought it would make Harry happy is all. No one will know it was me."

"No?" Jude spat contemptuously. "I figured it out and so did Harry's friend. She made Harry turn it over to McGonagall."

He hung his head in thought.

"Are you sure you want this? Just say the word, Black, and I'm out of your hair for good." Jude placed her hands impatiently in her pockets. She was cold and didn't intend to wait on him a moment longer when he finally spoke.

"Yes, I want this to be over." His voice was mournful and weary. Jude could understand his resolution. She knew what it was like to want to give it all up--to hell with justice.

She nodded. Regretting her decision to leave him to his reckless abandon, Jude turned to leave. She snapped back around quickly and eyed him shrewdly. "If you go after him, promise me you will wait until he's alone. Do not attack him with the kids around."

He simply nodded and she turned away from him. It wasn't fair--he'd practically forced her to give up on him, yet she felt like the traitor.

***

Curled up in a chair next to Hermione as she worked her way through a pile of parchment, her head popped up as she heard a familiar voice.

"I got it back," Harry said, grinning at her. Jude stretched and looked up at the boys. Ever since Hermione had ratted on them about the broom, they had been unforgivably cruel to her. Harry was holding the broom in front of Hermione who looked as if she did not know how to respond.

"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Ron.

"Well--there might have been!" said Hermione. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Harry. "I'd better put it upstairs--,"

"I'll take it!" said Ron eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic."

Jude lifted her head off of her paws for the first time since her rest had been interrupted. The rat had been upstairs the whole time she'd been down here sleeping. She felt horribly lazy and negligent. It took much effort to restrain herself and not to bound up the stairs after Ron in yet another hope of getting to Peter. Even though she'd said she'd given up on Black, she couldn't fight the urge to keep after Peter. Who knew? There may still be a chance for Jude to avert the disaster Black was hell bent to bring on himself. Now that she knew Peter was up there somewhere, she was determined to get him.

"Can I sit down, then?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I suppose so," she answered, moving a great stack of parchment off of a chair.

"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Harry asked her, examining the large pile of books, parchments and quills in front of him.

"Oh, well--you know--working hard," said Hermione, looking just as tired and stretched as Jude felt. She was sorry for her, but if anyone had tried to tell her not to work so hard when she was in school, she would have laughed in their face. Hermione knew what she was doing.

"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harry asked.

"I couldn't do that!" Hermione retorted as she lifted books in search of something.

"Arithmancy looks terrible," said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.

"You only know the half of it, kid," Jude thought with a yawn. "I'll bet you've never met Professor Vector!"

"Oh no, it's wonderful!" said Hermione earnestly.

Jude glanced momentarily at the girl. Maybe she did take this to the extreme--anything having to do with Vector was rarely wonderful and more along the lines of the third ring of hell.

"It's my favorite subject! It's--,"

But she was interrupted by a strangled cry from upstairs. Harry and Hermione quickly looked in the direction of the stairs. Jude heard the hurried sound of frantic footsteps and a moment later Ron appeared dragging a...bed sheet? Jude narrowed her eyes, perplexed by the strange scene.

"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table. Jude slunk from the seat of the chair to a shadowed corner beneath the table and out of sight. Ron's aim was getting better with practice and she did not want to be around if this had anything remotely to do with Hermione's misbehaving cat. "LOOK!" he yelled again, shaking the sheet in her face.

"Ron, what--,"

"SCABBERS!LOOK! SCABBERS!"

Hermione backed away from the angry and bellowing Ron, looking utterly startled and bewildered. Jude peered closely at the sheet, at a small spot on it which looked an awful lot like...

"BLOOD!"Ron yelled, shattering the crystal silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"

"N--no," said Hermione, her voice trembling.

Ron threw something small onto the table before Jude had a chance to notice what he held as evidence. In fact she hadn't been listening past the pronouncement "He's gone!" Peter was gone. Bollocks! She'd lost him!

Hermione slammed her book shut with a seismic snap. "That doesn't prove anything, Ron,those hairs could have been there since Christmas. Maybe Scabbers is hiding somewhere and you're just not looking--,"

"Your stupid cat ate him! I know it and you're just too much of a coward to admit that this is all your fault!" Ron seethed, leaning over the table, glaring at his friend.

Jude jumped at the screech of the chair legs scratching the floor as Hermione shoved her chair away from the table violently and streaked off up the stairs to her room. There was an awkward, still silence punctuated only by the distant slamming of a door. Then angry footsteps ascending the stone stairs followed by a sigh and another chair groaning against the wooden floor as Harry finally left the table and headed for the portrait hole.

She was alone under a table and Peter was gone. This was not how she'd imagined it would all turn out. It was her fault--if only she hadn't been so foolish, she could have had Peter. She'd deceived herself into believing that she was the one with the upper hand--that she was the only one who knew the players in this game of cat and mouse. But Peter had indeed recognized her. Why else would he have fled? No, she had been duped for the second time in her life. It had become a sort of haunting ritual for her to screw everything up so close to the end.

Forcing herself off of the floor, she headed for the portrait hole. She had to make this right. She had to find him.