Azkaban. Even without the dementors around, despair lingered within its' stone walls. Three months she had been stuck there, staring out of the top-floor window at the raging storm outside. Three months since the end of the war, since the Chosen One had defeated the Dark Lord. Three months and the Dark Mark was still there on her arm, taunting her. No amount of makeup, magic, or brute force would get rid of it.
"Rebecca, you ready?"
She gave Kingsley a weak smile, slowly standing up, "as ready as I'll ever be."
Today was her trial. She would not only have to face the Wizengamot, but the larger wizarding world; and, she would have to face them alone.
It wasn't the crowd that scared her, nor the possibility of having to spend a lifetime in that cell. No, she was scared of herself; of the memories and secrets she would have to admit to.
"Bring her in."
The iron doors opened with a blast of cold air as two Aurors moved to flank the young girl. Standing at 5'6", she couldn't have been much older than 18; however, her deep-set hazel eyes showed a much older soul. A tired soul. She sat down on the chair, the chains immediately strapping her in.
The courtroom was full of people murmuring to each other. No friends or family sat on the sidelines to break into quiet sobs.
"Rebecca Irene Myers," the man in the centre podium spoke, "you have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law for the following crimes," he cleared his voice, and the young girl raised her head, shaking her long, matted, auburn locks out of her pale face, to meet his stony eyes. "For, through your own free volition, serving You-Know-Who; for multiple uses of the Unforgivable curses; and, for being an accomplice in the murder of Albus Dumbledore. I have here that you have pled guilty to these crimes. Is this correct?"
"That is correct," she said, licking her cracked pale lips, her voice hoarse.
"We have already heard the evidence against you. Crimes like these usually call for a life sentence in Azkaban. However, you have asked to be excused from this sentencing due to 'extenuating circumstances.' The Wizengamot now asks you to put forth evidence, or at least provide good reasons as to why we should drop all charges. Are you prepared to offer such evidence?"
The young girl's eyes flickered, surveying those staring at her. They fell into an uneasy silence, watching her every move: a twitch of her eyebrow, her shuffling as she sat up straight. After a pause, a faint smile graced her lips and the onlookers froze.
"I am."