Unmatched Hatred

Chapter 25

Ministry of Magic: Court Trial Part 2

An odd, magical force spun all four relatives around to face the front and held them in place, which prevented any of them from moving freely. The only thing which was not locked in place was anywhere above their shoulders, allowing them to turn their head and allowing them to speak.

"Will we have to sit in those two chairs while they stand there?" I whispered over to Narcissa.

"Oh, of course not, darling. I promise they will be sent away when you and Kasper are called down there."

Narcissa patted my shoulder in a comforting way, and, as nervous as I was, I breathed a small sigh of relief.

Being in my petrified state, I did not focus too much on what was being said at that moment. I was still in shock as to being in the same room as my parents. The ones who created all the trauma I have ever experienced.

My own abusers breathed in the same atmosphere I dwelled in.

No, I will never forget what they did to me.

My heart was about to explode out of my chest. I had no idea what to do or say or if I was even supposed to do or say something at all. I then began to observe what was happening from my tall seating area, taking in more of my mum's and dad's appearances. My mother's hair was insanely matted, and my father did not have his glasses, therefore lacking his vision. Each of them also appeared thin and rather ill. I had no idea being in Azkaban could put you in such a bad state of health. I wondered if either of them had gotten the dementor's kiss yet.

"This must be mistake..." cried Mrs. Norman.

"Do you or do you not possess the Dark Mark and label yourself as a Death Eater?" asked the judge in a demanding tone that sent a shiver up my spine.

It is crazy to think that after so many years, my parents and Kasper's parents are finally getting what they deserve.

Anger raged in Mrs. Norman's voice. She finally dropped the pathetic act and an evil smirk formed on her lips. "What do you think?" Her expression darkened.

Her eyes then dropped down to her right arm, covered by the long sleeve of her prison gown. I think the judge had his answer then.

During more arguing between the Normans and the judge, my mum strangely turned her head to see where I sat. The rest of her body could not move, so she stood rather awkwardly. For the first time in a while, she looked me dead in the eyes. It was a strange sensation since her eyes were glued to me. Her eyes were nothing like they once were, but worse. A spark did not shine in her eyes. A smile from her did not warm my heart. She did not eye me gleefully with a tray of scones in her hands. Instead, her once caramel-colored eyes were dull, yet not exactly lifeless. Maybe the dementor has not gotten her soul just yet. If she even had one, anyways.

I wondered how she felt being looked down upon from a powerless position and finally paying her debt of evil. In no way did I feel sorry for her, though I could see in her eyes that she was pleading for help.

She was then aggressively whipped around by magic and forced to face the front. I forced myself to shake myself of the horrid vision of my mother in my mind.

"The Dark Lord is superior and above all." Mr. Norman's voice reverberated off the walls. "Though you throw us all in Azkaban, he will avenge us one day!"

I just now noticed how peculiarly quiet my parents were being.

"So, you have nothing to say to your son whom you abused profusely. No sympathy?" asked the judge, visibly annoyed.