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Three weeks had passed since the end of term, yet for Yoongi, time felt like it had frozen in place. He walked along the cobbled streets of London, the soft whispers of the wind brushing against his skin. Memories flickered through his mind, a haunting reel of the events leading to Jungkook's trial for his father's murder. With every step, the weight of the past loomed over him.
It had been a week since the trial, a day etched into the minds of everyone who had witnessed the truth unravel before them. Yoongi recalled the tension in the air as they gathered in the courtroom, a sea of anxious faces ready to hear the verdict. Hoseok and Taehyung had testified, their voices shaking as they recounted their experience from the Astronomy Tower. "We saw a dark figure moving towards the Whomping Willow. We did not know it was Jungkook's father. If we had known, we would have alerted the Headmistress immediately," they had said, their denial palpable.
Jin had stood beside them, his expression a mixture of confusion and shock as the truth unfolded. "Jungkook's a werewolf?" he'd whispered, glancing around as if the very walls were eavesdropping on their private horror.
Jimin, on the other hand, hadn't taken the news lightly. His heart had raced with panic, fear for Jungkook's future mingling with the dread of their shared history. Yoongi could still picture the tears pooling in Jimin's eyes, reflecting his pain at the thought of losing his best friend to a prison built from fear and misunderstanding.
The trial had been swift, a blur of accusations and testimonies. The lack of evidence surrounding the fire that had engulfed the Shrieking Shack had worked in Jungkook's favor, yet the revelation of his werewolf lineage had cast a dark shadow over his fate. Without any wand spells connecting him to the fire, the verdict came down like a hammer, sentencing Jungkook to five months in Azkaban. The room had fallen silent, disbelief hanging heavy in the air. Professor McGonagall had stepped forward, her voice strong and unwavering, yet it had not been enough to sway the court.
Now, as Yoongi approached a house, the weight of it all bore down on him. How had they reached this point? He wondered, frustration and heartache intertwining in his chest. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was all somehow connected to him—his visions, his choices, the fire. Every thread of their shared history seemed to weave together in a tapestry of pain.
The memories flooded back, each one sharp and vivid. The courtroom had felt like a cage, a tight space filled with unyielding eyes that scrutinized every move. When the verdict was read, his heart had shattered into a thousand pieces. The rawness of that moment replayed in his mind like a cruel joke. Five months in Azkaban—the words echoed painfully, each syllable a reminder of how unjust the world could be.
He remembered Jungkook's face as the sentence was announced: a mixture of shock and resignation, as if the boy he loved had been stripped of his very essence. It was as if time itself had stopped, leaving only the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. In that moment, Yoongi had felt utterly helpless, a spectator to the life of the one he cherished being tossed into darkness.
