*✧･ﾟ:* DEAD TO ME *:･ﾟ✧*
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MAY 21 WAS Indiana Jones' eighteenth birthday, and it was also the day before her first trial; both of which were facts Harry was fully aware of, yet completely unsure what to do with. He wondered if it was worth buying her something, especially when there was a large chance she might not be able to hold onto it for long. And he wasn't sure how to give her said gift, especially when she was keeping her nose down the entire day.
She looked a right mess, that was for sure. When he saw her in Potions that Friday afternoon, he saw that her dark eyes, with the addition of hanging eyelids, were glossed over and entirely vacant, and her skin had paled so greatly that one might think her to be ill. Across from her, Nancy Woods was barely brewing her Potion, and for once, Harry's stomach did not burn with jealousy when he saw Blaise Zabini tenderly holding Indiana's hand.
"Harry," Hermione called his attention back to his own bubbling cauldron rather than staring wistfully over at the Slytherins. "At least try and pay attention..."
"How can you expect me to do that?" He snapped quietly, knowing fully well that she was aware of tomorrow's events. Hermione frowned, sending him a look. Beside her, Ron frowned — Harry had almost forgotten that he had confessed everything to him.
"Just try, mate," He said apprehensively. Harry rolled his green eyes, but with only a single last glance at Indiana, he succumbed to his friends' demands and continued stirring his Essence of Euphoria.
Although he stayed quiet, the cogs of his brain were whirring just as they had that for the entirety of the past twelve hours. Perhaps he couldn't do anything about what would happen to tomorrow at Indiana's first trial, but maybe he could change her fate. He just had to put the pieces together.
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SHE HAD NEVER seen anything more pathetic than what she saw in the mirror. What was the point of putting on the stupid dress shirt and black blazer if she was swapping it in for a stripped prisoners uniform sooner or later? She felt like a phony, really; her sharp black dress pants made her look like she should have been a lawyer, not the defendant.
Indiana and Simon had flooed into the Ministry of Magic through the fireplace in Headmistress McGonagall's office, where they were met with Jack Jones at the entrance of the courtroom. Indiana relished in her freedom of the moment; she tightened her fingers along the length of her wand, appreciating the softness of her wrists and the cleanliness of her appearance.
She had taken it upon herself to wear her mother's ring on her left hand, the emerald and gold shining dimly due to the age of the metal. Simon clutched her hand as they entered at 4:00 PM, the pair shuddering at the sight of the Dementors inside of the courtroom. Indiana had never regretted not learning a Patronus more than she did now. But she didn't fret about it for long — not like it would matter anymore.
When she sat down into her chair, two Aurors flanked her sides; the one on her left was burly and looked as though he had woken up late that day, in comparison to the one on her right, who was thinner and had a neat head of shiny brown hair. They stripped her of her wand and placed it on the judge's desk, that of which was void of said judge. In the middle point of the courtroom, there was a tall, round black cage, only big enough for a single person to fit. Indiana was not sure what the purpose of it was.
"The court will come to order!" The bailiff of the court said, who was a rather heavy-set man with beady black eyes and a balding head. "Please rise for the Honorable Judge Caedius C. Conifer."
The judge who entered the room was a skinny and frail looking white man, with thin, wrinkled skin and cold blue eyes; his tag read JUDGE CONIFER. All those in the courtroom (there were several reporters in the rows of seats behind her, she had not realized until then) got to their feet out of respect. Simon begrudgingly followed instruction, but he was glaring at the Judge rather maliciously. Judge Conifer's gaze raked Indiana quickly as he entered as though she were the scum of the earth, and she never felt more vulnerable than she did then.
"Please sit," Judge Conifer began sternly, shuffling through a rather thin stack of parchment on his desk. Indiana shifted around in her seat, taking in her surroundings and trying rather hard to ignore the Dementors drifting above. "The court is now in session. Calling the case of the Ministry of Magic versus Indiana L. Jones."
Indiana glanced across the courtroom where she saw Rita Skeeter, her blonde hair sleek and shiny in a professional updo, beside a rather large camera. They locked eyes and the woman quirked an eyebrow before snapping her fingers; her Quick-Quotes-Quill began furiously writing.
"Are both sides ready?"
"Ready for the people, Your Honor," The District Attorney said. Indiana shifted her eyes for a split second to view the man speaking; he was a short and rather round man, although his charcoal gray suit looked to be of only the best fabric there was. His chin was pointed high as though he had already won and the silver watch on his wrist was ticking rather loudly.
"Ready for the Defense, Your Honor," The woman who was defending Indiana had pursed pink lips and rough skin, and she did not seem very adamant on defending her. Indiana assumed her father had met with her at least once, and her stack of evidence looked small and weak. The girl glanced over at the stack of papers and saw that the woman's name was Gertrude Hargreaves.
"Will the clerk please swear in the jury?" Judge Conifer said, still shuffling through his papers.
"Will the jury please stand and raise your right hand?" The jury stood, and Indiana avoided their eyes. They didn't look like the friendliest bunch of people. "Do each of you swear that you will fairly try the case before this court, and that you will return a true verdict according to the evidence and the instructions of the court, so help you, God? Please say 'I do'." They did so. "You may be seated."
"Ladies and gentlemen," The District Attorney began as he and a short, stocky woman stepped forward. "My name is Nigel Bowman. The defendant has been charged with the crime of having a role as a Death Eater for the duration of the Second Wizarding War and as being an accomplice of the attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore. The statements from our witness and our evidence will show that Miss Jones accepted the Dark Mark on her left forearm as an official initiation of joining Voldemort's followers. The evidence I present will prove to you that the defendant is guilty as charged."
Merlin, that sounds awful, she thought. Indiana tried her best not to flinch at the name of the Dark Lord, but she could not help the slight wince and twitch of her head. She refrained from scratching at her left forearm and remained seated still as best she could.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Gertrude Hargreaves stood up and Indiana saw that she was wearing thin, nude-colored pantyhose, as well as a red pantsuit. "Under Magical law, my client is presumed innocent until proven guilty. During this trial, you will hear no real evidence against my client. You will come to know the truth: that Miss Jones was simply deciding to take this role as a way to protect her younger brother, Simon Jones, from the fate of what Voldemort had in store. Along with this, Miss Jones took no part in the murder of Albus Dumbledore. Therefore, my client is not guilty."
"Oh, I am so fucked," Indiana mumbled under her breath as Gertrude took a seat. Judge Conifer's face remained as solid as the gavel upon his desk.
"The prosecution may call its first witness," Judge Conifer said. Indiana watched as Nigel Bowman got to his feet again. He had a wonky sort of waddle to his walk, his pudgy palms facing backwards. His watch continued to tick-tock loudly.
"The People call upon Cerberus Nott," Bowman said, and Indiana felt her breath catch. Cerberus Nott was Theodore's father!; he was present for most Death Eater meetings and had been present for the day she was branded with the Dark Mark. Did Theo know about this? Why would Mr. Nott be speaking against her? Was Mr. Nott the reason why the ministry called her to court?
And then, from within the black cage in the central point of the room came a thundering rumble; Indiana watched with bated breath as the body of Cerberus Nott rise from within, his head of dirty-blonde hair long and tousled, blue and gray striped uniform hanging from his thin body.
Oh lord, she thought to herself. Please, Merlin, do not let me ever look as helpless as this.
"Cerberus Nott," Judge Conifer began. "You have been brought from Azkaban at your own request to present your evidence to the counsel. Should your testimony prove consequential, the council may move to reduce your sentence or commute it entirely. Until such time, you remain in the eyes of the Ministry as a convicted Death Eater. Do you accept these terms?"
"I do, sir," Nott said in a croaky, gruff voice. Indiana could remember watching this same man drop Theodore off at her house to play when they were eight-years-old. How times had changed.
"Mr. Nott, what was the setting of Miss Jones' initiation?"
"Malfoy Manor, Your Honor," Nott answered, blue eyes that matched Theodore's so greatly flickering about the room and somehow avoiding Indiana entirely. She swallowed the lump in her throat and took a deep breath. "On — on July 31st, 1996."
Potter's birthday, Indiana thought suddenly. Oh, god, it was on Harry's birthday.
"Explain the course of events, Mr. Nott," Judge Conifer began. "And do be as specific as you are able."
"The Dark Lord —"
"And you shall use his name," Judge Conifer interjected sternly, holding up a pale, bony finger. "You shall say 'Voldemort.'"
"V-Voldemort," Nott hastily corrected himself. "He had requested young Simon Jones to receive the mark, for he was the male heir of the Jones family and Mr. Jack Jones refused to receive the mark himself. H-However, I witnessed Miss Jones step up and declare it fit for herself to receive the mark rather than her younger brother. And I — I can remember the eagerness and determination in her eyes, yes — she had wanted this from a very young age, indeed —"
"Objection, Your Honor —" Gertrude began heatedly.
"Objection denied, do continue, Nott," Judge Conifer said swiftly. Indiana's stomach was churning as though she might be sick.
"When Vol-Voldemort announced that he desired Simon Jones to join his ranks, Miss Jones declared that she was more fit to fulfill the role due to her age and close connection to Draco Malfoy, who had been tasked with the murder of Albus Dumbledore."
"And how exactly did Voldemort respond to such a declaration?"
"I don't particularly think he cared which of the Jones children joined him, for he just wanted the family on his side," Nott continued. "He complied and chose to give her the mark instead. He did not seem very troubled by the switch."
"And how did Miss Jones react to his acceptance?"
"Overjoyed," Nott said wickedly.
"Objection, Your Honor!" Indiana could not contain herself; she rose to her feet and slapped her hand upon the table rather violently. Beside her, Gertrude looked appalled. Judge Conifer, however, only seemed intrigued.
"Sustained," He said slowly. Bowman's jaw dropped.
"Your Honor —"
"Your Honor, Mr. Nott is not speaking truthfully," Indiana allowed her eyes to land on Mr. Nott, who was staring cowardly down at his manacle-chained wrists. "His entire testimony should not be counted as evidence, especially when he viewed only what the Dark Lord saw —"
"Voldemort, Miss Jones," Judge Conifer pointed an eyebrow. Indiana inhaled. "His name is Voldemort."
"V-Voldemort, then," Indiana stammered, the name causing her stomach to turn. "I was in no ways overjoyed to receive the mark. I had not been 'wanting it from a young age.' Mr. Nott's perspective of this is twisted entirely; perhaps, dare I say, his definition of 'overjoyed' matches that of 'terrified,' because 'overjoyed' is not how I felt on that cursed day."
"Your Honor, how are we to know what she was feeling? If the witness states she looked overjoyed, who are we to say she wasn't? She could very well be lying to protect herself. Teenagers tend to lie, you know," Bowman said.
"I am not a child, Mr. Bowman, I am a grown woman, and I'd appreciate it if you referred to me as such!" Indiana fired quickly. Gertrude grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her down.
"It is in your best interest to keep quiet, Miss Jones, for your own good," The elder woman hissed.
"Look, Your Honor," Bowman began again. "Nott was one of the only men present for her branding. And when it comes down to it — Nott's already been in Azkaban for quite some time, and it seems he's realized an error in his ways. It only makes sense to release a changed man and to incarcerate a girl who obviously still is convinced she did nothing wrong."
"Is there anything more you'd like to add, Nott?" The judge asked. Nott waited for a heartbeat.
"Yes, Your Honor," Nott said. "My son, Theodore, grew up with Miss Jones, therefore I was a witness to her person as a child as well. She was, and I assume still is, aggressive — competitive — and she has always been one to follow the beliefs of a Pureblood-supremacist."
You're one to talk, Indiana thought bitterly. You fuckin' psycho.
"Thank you, Mr. Nott, the witness is excused," Judge Conifer shuffled his papers again. "Mr. Bowman?"
"The People call upon Simon Jones to the stand," Mr. Bowman said firmly, nodding a head towards Simon. With panicked eyes, the boy stood and shuffled through the row of people before making his way up to the stand. He locked eyes with Indiana as he sat down, to which she only lightly smiled and nodded her head as though to reassure him. "Simon, m'boy, we're gonna ask you a few questions. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?""
"I do," Simon said meekly. Mr. Bowman heavily nodded his head three times exactly, circling about his spot like a dog before taking a seat.
"How would you describe your relationship with your sister?"
"Uhm, pretty good," Simon said honestly. "Always there for me. Protects me, y'know. We've always gotten along."
"Is it true that Voldemort called upon you to join his ranks and take the Dark Mark?"
"Yes, sir," Simon nodded.
"And is it true that your sister volunteered herself to fill that role instead?"
"Yes, sir."
"Right," Mr. Bowman squinted slightly, nodding some more. "Why d'you think she chose to do that? Out of jealousy, perhaps? To fill her desire to contribute to the annihilation of the Muggle population and the commandeering of the Ministry of Magic?"
"No, not at all," Simon shook his head. "I was only twelve at the time. She told me I was too young —"
"Therefore she was the better option? The wiser decision?" Mr. Bowman interjected. "The more able child, yes?"
"No, sir," Simon said politely. "She said she didn't want me going through that and that it was her job to protect me. She didn't want me to have the fate of a Death Eater."
"And, Simon, do you think that was some sort of ruse to cover her hidden submission to her Dark Lord?"
"No, not at all, sir," Simon said, to which Mr. Bowman frowned. "Indie's never really cared for Voldemort, really. She thought he was a bit barmy, actually."
"Do you think that was 'barmy' in a good way, or a bad way?"
"Uhm," Simon scrunched up his nose. "Sorry, I'm confused?"
"What I mean to say is," Mr. Bowman was grinning. Indiana refrained from bolting up and slapping it right off his face. "Did she admire his great efforts? His drive, his passion towards the Dark Arts?"
"I don't think so," Simon shrugged. "She's never mentioned the Dark Arts before... so I... I don't know."
"Hm," Mr. Bowman nodded three times again, clasping his pudgy hands at his front. "That'll be all, Your Honor."
"Thank you, Simon, the witness is excused," said Judge Conifer, shuffling his papers again. Simon let out a deep breath and stepped down from the stand, sending a quick thumbs up with a grimace Indiana's way as he walked back to his seat. "Tomorrow, for the remainder of the trial, the Defense will present their case and we will come to a verdict. For the time being, Indiana L. Jones will remain under the watch of Azkaban Prison and will be treated as such —"
"No! Objection!" Indiana began quickly.
"There shall be no Objections as of now, Miss Jones, for this has been already decided," Judge Conifer said indifferently; he then whacked the gavel twice on his desk and said blankly, "Court adjourned."
"What? No!" Indiana heard Simon say rather loudly as the Auror on her left grabbed her by the arm. "No, why can't she just —?!"
"Sit down, boy!" Jack Jones hissed and grabbed his son by the shoulder, shoving him back down into his seat. "Keep quiet, this isn't up for debate."
"Indie," Simon said weakly, rising from his seat again as the two Aurors dragged her out of her seat, rough hands gripping her arms tightly to pull her through the aisle. "Oh god, Indie —"
"I love you," She told him hastily as she was pulled past him. "Don't worry about me — I'll be fine —"
"No!" Simon had lunged forward from his seat, only for Father to grab him harshly to pull him back before the boy could get ahold of his sister. Indiana did not bother struggling in the grasps of the Aurors as they led her out. She felt naked without her wand.
"Do I have to get those tattoos?" She asked the Auror to her left. "The ones on the chest like Sirius Black had?"
"You're goin' to Azkaban, ain't'cha?" The burly Auror said; he had a snaggle-tooth and unruly blonde hair. He reminded her greatly of Vincent Crabbe, one of her fellow Slytherins that had died in the war. "Hell of a place, lemme tell ya..."
"You'll be treated as such," The other Auror said. He seemed much more put together than the other, his fair skin void of wrinkles and supple as though he were very young. The veins and folds of his hands, however, revealed his old age. "To answer your question, yes. And you'll be stripped of these clothes and will be changed into the uniform."
"But — but I'm not guilty," Indiana stammered. "W-Why am I going to Azkaban in between trials? This isn't fair, I didn't do anything —!"
"Have you got your wand on you, Louis?" The neat auror interrupted casually.
"Sure thing," Louis the burly Auror said, taking it out of his pocket with his free hand. "What'cha need it for, Leo?"
"Shut her up," said Leo. "I am not going to listen to her whinging."
"Oh, c'mon, she's already goin' off to Azkaban," said Louis sympathetically. "N' she's only just turned eighteen, ain't that right?"
"Y-Yes," Indiana croaked. "Yes, on M-May 21."
"She's jus' a kid, really —"
"She's a criminal, actually," said Leo matter-of-factly, his grip tightening on her arm. "So do as I say, why don't you?"
"Oh, fine, ya twat," Louis whipped his wand once and when Indiana opened her mouth to protest, no sound came out. It was then that she began to violently thrash in their grips, swinging herself left and right in attempts to escape; their grasp only tightened about her arms, fingers and short nails digging into her skin. "Aw, see? Would've been easier if we treated her nicer, ya'know."
"Sorry I don't feel any sympathy for someone who worked for Voldemort," Leo said blankly. "All we've got to do is give her her prison numbers and get her into uniform, and then we're done with her until tomorrow morning. I gotta get home."
"Who's the one watching her in her cell, huh? With all them nasty dementors 'round?" said Louis pointedly. Indiana felt sick. "Me! So I'm not done with her. You arse."
"I don't care," said Leo tiredly, running a hand down his face. "Our hands'll be washed of her soon enough. So shut it and let's get this over with."
SHE SPEAKS!
nah cause this chapter was so hard to write considering i know nothing about how trials works :) i did a shit ton of research to figure all of this stuff out, so correct me if you know something is incorrect!!!!!
was i listening to mitski while i wrote this? yes. do i regret it? no, i do not.
also next chapter WHOOOO GIRL!!!!! i'll update later today or tomorrow cause i hate leaving it like this lmfao
- s <3