DEAD TO ME → (h. potter)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

"Mr. Potter, you're not —"

"On page 436 and section seven of A Complete Text of Magic Law by Colin Bradsworth," Harry began, unclipping his bag and setting a rather large textbook onto the table to his right, flipping through it casually. "It states that anyone — with the proper authority — can speak in defense of the defendant."

"Yes, with the proper authority —"

"I do have a Second Class Order of Merlin, do I not?" Harry asked, his hand landing on the text-covered parchment as he turned his head to make direct eye contact with the Judge, who stammered out a few words before responding.

"Well, I — I suppose you do —"

"Right, then," Harry slipped into the seat beside what looked to be the woman in charge of defending Indiana; she wore a yellow pantsuit and had pursed, purple lips. He gestured for the Judge to continue with a single hand, sliding the textbook back over towards him and placing it back into his bag. "Go on, then."

"Alright, well, Mr. Bowman, do continue," Judge Conifer nodded his head towards a pudgy man who reminded Harry of his Uncle Vernon.

"Thank you, Your Honor," Mr. Bowman said, although he kept glancing at Harry nervously. "As I was saying, Miss Jones, how exactly were you involved in the task of murdering Albus Dumbledore that was given to Draco Malfoy?"

"I w-w-wasn't," Indiana croaked, and Harry's head jolted towards her just at the broken quality of her voice. How bad had her nights' stay at Azkaban been? Hagrid had not been this wrecked after he had to go. "D-Draco's my friend. I just wanted to help him, I didn't want Dumbledore dead —"

"You wanted to help him with his task, you mean," Mr. Bowman said pointedly. "You wanted to aid him in the murder."

"I d-didn't want him to kill Professor D-Dumbledore," Indiana said desperately. "But D-Draco was only sixteen and if he didn't do it then V-V-Voldemort would have killed him —!"

"And did Voldemort ever give you a task of your own?" Mr. Bowman continued, pacing in front of the cage that held the younger girl. Harry felt like punching him. "You were, if I am correct, quite high in his ranks, yes?"

"I wasn't," Indiana said honestly, shaking her head left to right rather feverishly. "I wasn't, I didn't matter to him at all. He never tasked me with anything, I just had to represent my family at his meetings."

"So you attending the formal meetings?" Mr. Bowman nodded his head three times as though he were confirming his own question. "The very same meetings that discussed his plans of taking over the Ministry?"

"Y-Yes, I had to," Indiana answered. Harry could not stop looking at her. How could they keep her in such a contraption? Around her wrists were silver manacles, rattling with her every move, but on her left hand, Harry spotted a glinting gold and green ring. He wondered if it had helped keep her sane. "He'd make my mark burn until I showed up."

"Were you often the first to show up, then?" Mr. Bowman asked. "You must have been awfully eager to attend such important meetings."

"No, no, not at all," Indiana denied in a weak and cracking voice. "I h-hated the meetings, he brought his snake — and she'd always slither around my chair —"

"You are a member of Slytherin house, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Would you say you had a good relationship with Severus Snape?" Mr. Bowman asked carefully.

"Not really, sir," Indiana shook her head. "He didn't like me... I'm bad at Potions. He was rude."

"Because he was so high in Voldemort's ranks?" Mr. Bowman asked. "Were you jealous of Severus Snape for being so honored by Voldemort?"