Disclaimer: I own nothing, hope you don't get bored now that Nina's back home for the summer.


The first breakfast after a long year appart was an easy thing. They chatted with ease, danced to music, shared funny topics, watched new movies, laughed and enjoyed new experimented meals, gossiped about nasty neighbors. Those few first days were always easier, after four years of attendance to Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry , they both knew which topics to stir away from.

So she told her, about the contest for older students that lasted all year, where the prize was to be famous and four thousand galleons richer. She told her about the ball and how embarrassed she was when a foreign cute guy asked her to dance even though she was a potato at dancing. She told her how much fun she had with all the girls that like her, didn't have a date, about the crazy new professor of the year, about all the foreign students and their quirks.

But as the unspoken rule dictated, not even once did she mention anything about Voldemort, her magic, Dumbledore or the Ministry.

The feeling of loneliness that crept up her spine was nothing new, she got up to help her mother with the dishes and thought of a way to ease the idea of her going away sooner than expected, without much hickups. She couldn't fathom another month of this tiptoeing existence, when her mind was only thinking about one thing.

Her mother hated magic and by extension, she hated a part of her. But she loved her daughter and wanted her to be as happy as possible. She understood enough to know that her hate didn't come from malice, or fear. Her mother was raised strictly religious, so finding out magic was real, rattled her world deeply, and her father abandoning them for that same reason didn't help either. She knew her mother blamed her magic for her divorce, even though she never said anything about it. And the fact, the man she was supposed to live the rest of her days with, decided to bail at the first bump in the road of their lives... well...

She understood, why she blamed magic for everything going wrong, because the alternative, would have been blaming her and hating her instead. That was as clear as day. Reaching this understanding peaceful way of doing things took years, they fought and screamed and cried until they drew a line where the both of them were comfortable, so she wasn't about to mess it up now.

And really, there wasn't much she could do but lie her way out. It's not like her mother didn't trust her to cross countries on her own.

She finished drying the last cup and turned to her mother. "Do you mind if I go back to England a month earlier this time?"

The older woman seemed surprised, "is there something wrong?"

"No, of course not it's just ... a friend invited me over to her house to pass those last few weeks with her, I told her I would ask"

The frown in her mother's face was pretty much a response on it's own. "Are they... You know... Like us.. or like"

"No, they're not like us, I think they go back a generation only" her mother seemed to understand then.

"So her parents were raised like us, then?" She looked like she wanted to make sure.

"Yes"

"Well, I thought we could go to Marroco this year, I mean we've been talking about it for some time, see your aunts and cousins you know, maybe go down to Agadir for awhile, we've never been there" the hesitant tone in the older woman's voice made her instantly aware of where this was going.

And today wasn't the day she would discuss that topic, no sir.

"I know mum but, They already invited me last year and I said no. It'll just seem like I don't want to go, since she already asked if we were doing anything and well, ... You didn't tell me"

"Yeah yeah, I know I wanted to call because,... But then you don't get calls..so"

"Maybe we can plan Agadir for another year" if you survive another year, offered her helpful mind as a reply.

"Yeah yeah sure, we can do that" she didn't know what to feel with this. Her mother didn't see her siblings for almost nine years. Not because she couldn't, she simply wouldn't. The drama and bad blood there, was another mess entirely. She didn't blame her for it, but her mother was trying to use her as a crutch. The way she saw it, her mother was in for a nasty long visit that would undoubtedly upset her, she would grow emotional, and erratic and then she would shut down and let her do the answering talking and planing of the rest of the month.

And she was on edge enough to know for sure she would end up blasting someone to kingdom come.

And she was a thousand percent sure the woman would try to pull a father daughter date with her newfound forgive and forget spirit.

She had no patient for that right now

She could plan a trip to Agadir as a surprise for next summer if her plans didn't go to shit town. Maybe plan it to skip going anywhere near Casablanca, just enjoying some tourism, she doubted she'd have any energy for dramas next summer either.

The conversation was left there stilted by untold fears and regrets on both parts. It seemed the only way they could go on was by ignoring things. What a healthy family they were.

She went back to her room, to busy herself with unpacking, before her mind started going to unhealthy places.


The stale grey round room was full of whispers, it would undoubtedly feel eery to anyone passing by the door in the hallway. But in truth the only eery sight was the man in chains, with a blanck stare, looking at nothing. The twenty nine year old man was disheveled and dirty, his greased hair hid part of his face to onlookers.

In another life he would have been the charming funny guy full of energy and curiosity. Today he's a murderer, a fugitive and a death eater.

"ORDER" the old man at the center of the dais spoke with an angry flush. Annoyance was clear in his tone.

For him this trial was an unnecessary hassle and he had a bigger fish to fry.

"Barty Crouch Jr., Fugitive of Britain's prison for wizards and witches, condemned for the torture of Alice and Frank Longbottom the night of the fall of who must not be named. Accused of conspiracy against the Ministry with the aid of the fugitive Sirius Black. The use of the impirius curse on The head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports Mr. Ludovic Bagman and The murder of Barty Crouch Sr, your own father." The last word seemed to come out of the man with great effort and emphasis, he was almost trembling with exertion. The silence in the court room felt as heavy as the young man's chains.

The next sentence was almost whispered "How do you plead?"

One second. One minute. Utter silence.

There was no response, not a twitch from the prisoner. There was no emotion in his face, he was sitting there breathing, blinking so very slowly. Like the effort took too much from him.

The room kick-started its whispered frenzy once more, and the Minister's voice came back with anger instead.

"ORDER"

"HOW DO YOU PLEAD, PRISONER?"

He seemed too eager for a confirmation to what he said, to realize some of the attendees were looking at him with doubt.

It was a composed, impersonal voice that spoke next. "Pardon me, Cornelius" The Minister seemed to mellow down considerably at the voice and he nodded with professional air as if giving permission. "It seems to me, the prisoner is far from been in any mental capacity to plan such a conspiracy, let us not forget who was the first madman to escape Azkaban unscathed, I believe it is only logical to assume Sirius Black was behind this, after all he was very eager to be in Hogwarts premises last year, it wouldn't be far fetched that he would place one of his ... Uh less abled little friends to do his bidding, inside the school. Of course, Mr. Barty Crouch Jr should be held accountable for his terrible and tragic actions. But... we must not forget the true enemy"

He would be a great politician if he so wished , he knew when to speak, when to make a little pause, when to show emotion, when to be clinical and precise.

And there wasn't much to work with when the prisoner himself refused to speak.

There was one voice that most were awaiting, and it's silence was calculating and heavy. He was looking straight at the Minister, no faltering. Their eye contact seemed more intense than the words spoken just seconds before.

The older man did not utter a word, simply looked at the Minister.

And the latter seemed to cave under pressure "NO, DUMBLEDORE" "I know what your doing" the man was rattled, spit followed his last hissed statement. He looked angry and scared to all present, but still no one seemed privy as to why he was so agitated.

"My friend, Cornelius, you know why he was in Hogwarts. He told you himself before he quieted in despair, did he not?"

"LIES, He's a Madman and a murderer and he belongs in Azkaban."

"I did not imply anything different old friend, he must be punished for his crimes, but we have to know more of his..."

"I WILL NOT HEAR OF IT" "He is... not ... Back" with an angry red face the Minister drew the wild whispers to a stop once more and dictated the silent chained young man to a fate worse than death.


Author's Note: We'll still see what's going on in wizarding Britain even if Nina is back home. So I'll be going back and forth. Hope you enjoy it.