The Collision Theory | Remus Lupin

67. Truth Or Dare

In the blink of an eye, McGonagall has disappeared from my side, replaced by two aurors who clutch my wrists like I'm about to make a run for it. The one on my right pockets my wand, but I'm too scared to argue. I'm walked to the chair in the centre, and though I don't look up, I can hear muffled whispers from the stands. I stay standing, head down, and someone behind calls out, "All rise."

I raise my head as very formal looking witches and wizards seat themselves in front of me, and a man with greying wisps of hair sticking out from underneath his hat sits in the centre. He raises his hands, and then lowers them, signalling us all to sit, "The date, the fourth of April. Subject: The Ahmet Novak case."

The name brings a shiver down my spine, but I don't look away as he peers over the stand and down at me, "State your full name and relationship to the accused."

"Aylin Novak," my voice echoes around the room, leaving me feeling rather small, "niece of Ahmet Novak. Nothing more."

Whispers carry around the room, and I catch sight of McGonagall, who nods reassuringly. The man clears his throat, "And do you, Miss Novak, consent to the use of veritaserum on yourself for the greater good of justice?"

"I consent," I try not to sound scared, which is hard when my knees are shaking under the skirts of my dress. The auror on my left produces two vials of clear liquid, pouring half the contents of one into the other, and hands it to me. My hands shake as I take it from him, and I down it quickly, tasting nothing. Something in my chest stirs, and I feel oddly light-headed.

"Miss Novak, we will ask a few starting questions to make sure that you under the full affect of the potion, is that okay?"

"No," I say before even thinking it, and quickly clap my hands on my mouth, "sorry. Please proceed."

A few chuckles break the silence from behind, but the man is as stone faced as ever, "Very well, how many detentions have you served?"

"Three."

"Which subjects did you fail at O.W.L level?"

"Divination, I broke two china sets," I feel my cheeks heat up, and I'm sure that I'm almost as red as my cloak.

The man seems satisfied enough with my answers, moving on to the more pressing matters, "Between your father and uncle, what has their relationship seemed like?"

"Bad," I can feel my throat aching to unleash so many answers at once.

"So, they've had a couple of brotherly brawls?"

"If by brotherly you mean Ahmet pulling a knife out on my father, then yes," I quip, ignoring the voice in the back of my head that screeches, don't be a little shit.

The man purses his lips, not getting the answer he was probably hoping for, "So, they do still keep in contact?"

Murmuring spreads across the room, mainly from the jury, who watch intently as if this was an exciting film. I feel the heat riding in my cheeks, "Your honour-"

"Answer the question, Miss Novak," a woman, sitting beside the man, adresses me in a sickly sweet high-pitched voice. Maybe it's just because of the situation I'm in, but as soon as I lay eyes on the pink little bow on her head, I feel like ripping it out with my bare hands.

"I- kind of, it's just that-"

"So it's a yes, then?" The woman raises an eyebrow, leaning forwards against the banister.

I want to spit at her, but manage to keep as composed as possible, "It's not like that-"

"But you did admit-"

"Shut up and stop interrupting me!" The whole room, including myself, are stunned into silence by my outburst.

I am about to apologise when a voice from the stalls behind me speaks up, "Perhaps if we allowed the young lady to clarify her answers, it would save a great deal of confusion. She is under the affects of veritaserum after all."

"Thank you, Professor," I sigh, glad that someone was able to explain other than myself. Adressing the man at the centre, and not the she-devil beside him, I explain, "Your honour, my uncle writes to my father, asking him to come home, to which my father refuses. All informal connections were cut almost ten years ago."

"Why was this?"

"Simple," I shrug, "Ahmet Novak started finding active ways to exercise his supremist views."

"But you have met him?" A different man, one with jet-black hair who's face seems oddly familiar, asks.

"Yes."

"And how did he seem?" His quill writes as he speaks, and I feel small and insignificant under his steely gaze, "Influential? Deceitful?"

"He looked sad," I try to sieve through the memories of that day, wincing as the potion kicks into full effect, forcing me to rack my brain for answers, "and kind, at first. We were at my grandmother's funeral- his mother's. I can't remember why I went if I didn't know her. Miriam and mum didn't come-"

"Your younger sister has never met your uncle?"

"No, keep her out of this," I glare at the man with the black hair, "or I swear I'll-"

"If you do not restrain yourself we will hold you in contempt."

"Look, neither I nor my sister or parents have done any murdering!" I go to get up, but the two aurors by my side quickly push me back down, "Are you really so thick as to think that I would waltz into this courtroom if I was guilty of anything? I am innocent, of all crimes, and so is my family."

"Very well-" the man in the centre has turned a shade pinker, and raises the little wooden hammer that I've seen judges on muggle television hit against the desk, but then the she-devil interrupts.

"Hem hem," she clears her throat, before leaning towards the centre man and whispering in his ear. He nods slowly, and she directs her speech to me this time, "One last thing if I may, dear."

"Fine."

"Miss Novak, have you any affiliation with any half-breed, past or present?"