Courtroom 713

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Oh my god, he needs a haircut. What the hell is that?

A scruffy, messy-haired boy walked past her. Honestly, just looking at him made Elle cringe.

How did his parents let him live like this? 

His hair stuck up in about fifty-two directions, constantly shifting into a worse position, the gel slicking it back holding onto the tips of the strands for its life. And to think, this was just the back

I'm going to cry.

He walked towards Courtroom 713, shuffling forward and slightly nudging the door forward to peek inside.

Elle raised an eyebrow and looked at the schedule. 

Today, Courtroom 713 was set to be a full Wizengamot meeting to discuss a act of underage misconduct involving magic in front of a Muggle.

Wait. What the heck? Why is a whole Wizengamot collecting for a simple case of underage magic? What did this guy do?

Elle glanced over at the boy. He had turned towards her slightly, obviously looking for someone.

His face was childlike, innocent, pale - nothing particularly out of the ordinary. But those eyes... Elle shuddered. Ghosts of panic, pain and trauma flickered behind his green irises.

"Hey. Who are you looking for?"

Elle didn't know why she spoke. She shouldn't have said anything. If there's one thing being a lawyer for wizards has taught her, it's that looks are deceiving. This boy could be frickin' Voldemort, for all she knows, and she'd just spoken to him as if-

"Uh... Prof-"

He stuttered slightly.

"Wait, no, uh... Albus Dumbledore? He sent my, uh, guardian a letter about him defending me in court?"

Dumbledore?

"Sweetie, he's not scheduled to be in for another five hours. Is this a serious case you require a lawyer for, or...?"

Elle. Don't.

He looked down. 

"Yeah, kinda, but it's fine if there's no one to defend me. I'm innocent, wrongly accused, whatever... I'll be fine."

"Who's judging your case?"

"Cornelius Fudge."

Elle sharply inhaled through her nose. Fudge?  Why is the Minister of Magic judging a case of underage magic?

The boy ran his hands through his hair, revealing a jagged scar. 

Oh. Fuck.

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