The Marauders: Year Six #Wattys2017

Neid, Calc, 273

Jasper closed his eyes... a shiver went down his spine.

"Buddy... please," Charlus whispered.

There was a very, very long pause. Jasper looked steadily down at his trainers. Then -- "If... if I hadn't been over age... if I was younger... if I was... say, a kid..." he looked at Charlus, "What would the sentence be then?"

"Expulsion from Hogwarts," Charlus murmured, "Probably a snapped wand, probably a ban on using magic issued by the Ministry."

Jasper bit his lip. Expulsion from Hogwarts and a snapped wand... a life without magic... well, in the Odair house, a life without magic was as good as a sentence to death, he thought. It was an end of hope. It was a promise to a destiny of becoming their father.

He couldn't do that to Edgar.

He'd rather die himself than take away his little brother's hope.

"Jasper?" Charlus asked, prodding.

Jasper shook his head.

Two dementors and the guard that watched over the cells by day walked Jasper Odair to Courtroom Ten. He was shackled by unbreakable chains, his arms wrenched back so tight his chest was forced to heave forward. Jasper walked with his chin held high, though his lower lip trembled. The dark corridor was cold and the dementors made it colder and the guard shivered and clutched Jasper like a shield - as though he reasoned that he would throw the boy to the dementors to be taken first should they attack.

The door to Courtroom Ten was heavy and iron and creaked when it opened.

The dementors stayed outside.

Jasper was led across the floor in the sunken room, all eyes on him - every member of the Wizengamot filled the stands and he saw the Minister for Magic - Harold Minchum - and the head of the Magical Law Enforcement Department, Barty Crouch. These were faces he knew from the pages of the Daily Prophet - faces he never thought he would see in real life.

He could barely see them anyway though for tears were streaming down his cheeks.

He couldn't stop them no matter how much he told himself to.

The guard pulled him roughly 'round a single chair that sat in the very center of the wide floor and he was shoved into the seat and thick shackles clanked out of the chair, biting onto his biceps and legs, holding him there, his fists still chained behind his back -- as though he were some horrid terrorist, as though he might kill them all if left unchained.

As though he were not a crying seventeen year old boy.

Along the left side of him were two chairs in the first row of the telescopic stadium seats - they were filled by Fabian Prewett and Charlus Potter.

Fabian Prewett's face was pale.

Charlus Potter stood up as the guard of the dungeons turned and hurried back to the door of the courtroom.

Bartemius Crouch stood up, a podium before him, and he cleared his throat, "Jasper Phineus Odair, age seventeen, accused of the murder of his muggle father by way of the unforgivable killing curse. How do you plead?"

Jasper voice would not work as he tried to plea guilty.

"Innocent until proven guilty, Barty," Charlus said, his voice ringing.

Bartemius sighed. "And you are --?"

"C'mon Barty, you know who I am," Charlus replied, rolling his eyes.