Unconcious Reality
I lay down and watch the sun come up
don't know how long it's been since my eyes were shut
and they're burning, I'm twisting, and turning
a lonely night, a tired morning
Jenny
5/6/10
2:10 a.m.
I remembered. From nowhere, I suddenly had a brain, a memory. Somewhere deep inside, I was full of anxiety, but I wasn't complete enough to feel. But I also had another feeling, the feeling as if my brain and memory were almost disorganized, like someone had been going through it like a sock drawer. It hurt. The most recent memory it had been at was when I shot the Minister of Magic. I thought of everyone, the Weasley's, the Order members, Lupin and Tonks. Teddy. And then, of course, Draco. The memory of him kissing me was keeping me above the blackness I had emerged from. It was sticky and numbing, and whenever I sank lightly into it, it held onto me, trying to drag me back to nothing.
5/7/10
10:11 p.m.
A break from the monotony came when I could feel. I was so anxious, so worried. What was happening? Were Dawlish and Williamson prepared? When was my trial? What were my family and friends going through? Why was someone going through my head, and who were they? And finally, how long had I been asleep?
Some time later, it came upon me that I had ears, and that I could listen. The sounds came from what seemed like a bottom of a pool. Unsure, I listened harder. "…legal….Bollig?" said a female voice. More mutterings erupted from that, but I couldn't pick out words.
"…trial…" the woman said again, and I quickly racked my brain. When did I take the potion? Could I guess how many days I had been out?
5/8/10
6:51 a.m.
I could feel more now, not just my emotions. I could feel the pillow under my head, the straps holding me down, and a hand holding mine. Who did it belong to? "She's going to be late! If anything, this is your fault." I heard Tonks snap.
"To the contrary, Miss." A disgustingly sleazy voice barked. I was filled with immediate dislike, especially when he sighed loudly in exasperation. "Let's speed things along…Madam Pane?" He demanded frostily.
"Suscitatio ex dormio." I heard her say curtly, and it felt like someone was trying to wax my face, making me gasp and tense slowly. Her spell was forcibly ripping away the black gunk in my head, leaving it aching. My eyes started to flutter as she stopped it, letting the black leap back up, trying to take me over again. With a quiet sigh, I relaxed again, too tired to fight.
"Do it again. We're late." The man snapped, and it happened again, making me actually cry out this time, eyes snapping open, my lungs suddenly breathing, my heart pumping in my ears. "Ah, she's arisen." The man in question was disgustingly fat with a face that reminded me of Umbridge, but with more chins. Panting, I closed my eyes, suddenly exhausted. "Realshio." The man snapped, and the straps fell away. "Get up. You have a trial to go to." He commanded. I made myself open my eyes instead of falling asleep again and looked at him.
"Who…are you?" I asked, and my voice was quiet and half asleep. He snorted, seizing the front of my hospital gown and pulling me to a sitting position. Unfortunately, I immediately collapsed into his arm that smelled of sweat and greasy popcorn. He made a disgusted noise and backed away, and someone caught my shoulders.
"Jenny, can you hear me? Your trial started 5 minutes ago. You have to get up; you have to get up now." Williamson said from the back of the room, and I barely held my head up to look around. Madam Pane had caught me, and after leaning me up against the back of the bed, swung my legs over, then pulled me closer by the shoulders until my feet touched the floor. Tonks took one of my arms, and Madam Pane took the other, and the pulled me up to stand. My body simultaneously started to tremble like I actually was a psycho. "Come on, Jenny." Williamson probably meant to say it in an encouraging manner, but he sounded panicked and rushed to me. I tried to take a step and my knees collapsed for a second.
"It's…today? Now?" I asked sluggishly as Tonks almost towed me down the hallway. I caught myself on the wall before Tonks could catch me when my knee gave out again. The man hissed impatiently, but I ignored him, trying to force my tired and searing brain to think. The trial, it was today…I would have to answer questions, I would have to stay awake…
"Williamson, make yourself useful." The fat man snapped, and Williamson hesitated then came over.
"Sorry about this," He said, then picked me up in his arms. It was only awkward, not uncomfortable. It also gave me time to think.
"Where is everyone? Draco, Lupin?" I asked Tonks, rubbing my temples.
"They are all at the trial." Was all Tonks said, and we spent the rest of the ride, including through the Floo Network in silence. The brisk walk to the courtrooms was also silent. When we reached a large door, Williamson set me down, and after a moment of wavering, I stood on my own, trying not to fall over backwards in my lethargy state. "Now Jenny, Williamson and Dawlish will represent you, but don't say anything unless asked, alright? Just go through that door and sit in the chair." Tonks said, and then seized me in a tight hug, which I managed to return, but without about an eighth of the strength.
She caught me when she set me down, my trembling hands tightening their grip on her only for a second to regain my balance. "Can you walk?" she asked in a quiet undertone, and I nodded. She sighed, kissed my forehead, and then walked back up the passageway, looking behind her until she vanished.
"In." The fat man demanded, pointing to the door, and with slow, careful steps, I made it to the door and had to rest a moment. I could barely walk. Taking a deep breath, I pushed on the door, and of course, I wasn't strong enough to open it. Williamson made an angry noise at the fat man and held the door open for me. Trembling, I walked inside to hear a quiet but collective gasp. The room still reminded me of a depressing well, but this time it was full of people. The section right in front of me was full of wizards and witches in black robes and funny hats, all watching me beadily. Above them and on the sides of the room were stands packed with people, all of them looking at me in horror, disgust or pity. I quickly looked down and focused on walking to the chair. It felt like an eternity. My quivering body could only go so fast, and I was already being pushed to my limit. I caught the edge of it with a shaking hand, and then slowly sat down. After a moment, two sets of gold chains lurched to life and snaked around my arms, binding them to the armrests.
"Jennifer Lillian Quinty?" A booming woman barked, her monocle cutting into her face as she loomed down at me, as if to see me better.
"Yes."
"You're late. Explain." She said coldly.
"I was being revived, ma'am." I blinked as her face seemed to swim in front of me.
"Revived?" She raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"Revived from the Draught of the Living Death, ma'am." She looked up at the man who had to be the new Minister of Magic, who shifted a little uncomfortably. I took the lapse of time to take a few deep breaths.
"It was asked and granted by the prosecution that for the safety of all involved, Quinty would be given the Draught." He looked to my left, and then I noticed the fat man sitting smugly at his side of the courtroom, hands folded. Whispers started among the crowd before the woman glared around, silencing the room.
"And when was this administered?" She asked me, and I looked down.
"I don't know, ma'am." I felt my face pale as I said it, I still didn't even know. Madam Pane said it would only last for a month max, but had it been a month? A week? Two days? She scowled at the Minister, and then shuffled her papers.
"Trial and Investigation of Jennifer Lillian Quinty, on the 8th of May into her blood status and citizenship, as well as the," he checked a list as his quill wrote for him, "Nine murders committed." The Minister clicked his tongue, and fat man smiled even wider, if possible. He then nodded to the woman with the monocle, who adjusted it before leaning forward to look at me.
"Representatives for the Defense, Gregory Williamson and Richard Dawlish." She said coolly, and on my level to the right, Dawlish and Williamson left their little box and took the floor. They didn't look at me, nor did they look at the woman. Instead, Dawlish set down a Pensive, and Williamson conjured what looked like a giant floating movie screen.
"To start, we'd like to show you exactly how Miss Jenny became a werewolf through several different memories. The first will be hers, the second, Draco Malfoy's, and the last three belonging to Arthur Weasley, Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora Lupin. "Dawlish addressed the Wizengamot before turning and pointing his wand at the Pensive.
A frying pan swam into view, with a vegetable omelet cooking in it. I could hear myself humming to the music on the radio. The memory played in it's entirety, and I looked at my lap the whole time, angry with myself for having my eyes instantly start to smart with tears. The audience and Wizengamot gasped several times during the sequence, which I barely paid attention to. Only when the lights came up and Dawlish spoke again did I force the tears back. "I would like to ask permission to have Ms. Jenny show you the bites herself." He said, and I raised my head in disbelief. The woman looked at me a second before nodding to him, and the chains loosened and fell off.
Williamson came over and took my arm, helping me stand as Dawlish said something about the effects of the Draught I had taken. "Face them." Williamson told me quietly, so I did, then felt around the hospital gown's collar with quaking hands until I found the two buttons in the back and undid them, taking the collar off. Without pausing, I reached behind again and fumbled with the bow a minute before undoing the first tie, then scrunched the gown past my shoulders. When I looked up again, the Minister looked sick, and the Wizengamot was muttering furiously. I put the shoulders back and then lifted the left side of my shirt. The woman with the monocle looked away as my side and stomach came into view. The first bite was the most prominent, but the scars from the werewolf fights I had been in stood out strongly, and I could still feel my ribs from my trip to Malfoy Manor.
"Thank you, Jenny." Dawlish said, and with Williamsons help, I sat heavily back down, not flinching when the chains coiled back up. "As you can see, ladies and gentleman, Jenny did not enter our world by choice. The members of the Order of the Phoenix took her in, and made sure she transformed safely, so that she would not become like Greyback. When she changed safely, they were faced with a problem. They couldn't put her back in the Muggle world. She wasn't a wizard, and they weren't about to kill her. To support herself, they agreed to train her and use her as a spy within the Ministry. But during this time, Kingsley Shacklebolt, an Auror I once admired was being highly discriminatory towards Jenny, even though she was not there by choice. Through a fight involving the unethical use of Draco Malfoy, then a prisoner, as a punching bag, he made her transform on her first night as a wolf, without a Wolfsbane Potion, endangering herself and Remus Lupin, who would take her out with him to transform. I would like to show you now, Jenny's memory of her first transformation. Remember, she does not know who she is." Dawlish played the memory, and I winced when I heard myself gasp, looking in the mirror at the scratch, the messy, dirty hair. "After this transformation, Jenny went to Kingsley and told him that she would never need them, to protect Remus Lupin, even though it scared her to tears." Dawlish continued to explain and show everyone my life at the Order, including my last transformation without the Wolfsbane Potion. I couldn't help myself, I wept silently, glad that my hair was down to hide my face as much as possible.
Williamson reviewed my stay at Shell Cottage and the first attack by Kingsley, and went in depth about how it was my idea to start the radio station, how I wanted a way to help Muggleborns facing prosecution. Then he walked back over to the Pensive. "On March 10th, Kingsley attacked Jenny again as she was walking back to their campsite after a night under the full moon. After a fight involving Remus Lupin and Draco Malfoy, he kidnapped Jenny to Draco's house, which had been taken over by Death Eaters as their headquarters." He glanced at me, and I felt my face pale further, and I looked at my lap again, letting my blood turn to ice, it helped to numb the pain of the memories. "She was a captive there for a month. Here is only some of what happened to her." He paused and looked at me one more time, before he started the memory. Gasps erupted in the courtroom as Voldemort's face appeared right in full view as he gazed into my eyes, reading my mind. Then his torture began, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it out, but it played in my mind anyway. Next he showed Bellatrix's long 'interrogation' techniques and I tensed up. If I could, I would be curled up in a ball. I could still feel the Veritasereum being forced down my throat. The memories ended with the Malfoy's rescuing me and taking me back to Shell Cottage. "If you were wondering why none of our evidence was gathered by Veritasereum, this is why. We made the mistake of trying, and it was terrible to hear, never mind see later." Williamson emphasized the word terrible, scanning the Wizengamot.
Then Dawlish stepped up again, and explained and showed in detail the night Draco and Lupin told me about my family. "Imagine," he said, walking around in little circles. "Imagine after being through all of this, losing your life, your identity, your freedom. Imagine that just after two weeks of being liberated from Death Eaters that you hear that everyone you ever loved and knew from your old life is dead, murdered, all because of you. How would you feel?" He asked, and I started when his hand suddenly rested on my shoulder. "How did you feel, Jenny?" He asked me.
"I was scared, depressed, and most of all, furious. I blamed myself." I said it barely loud enough to be heard.
"Exactly. A normal, human reaction. Have we not seen in history, how the wronged has always seeked revenge for their fallen? Jenny may not have been right, but I believe that she was justified in her actions." Dawlish said firmly, staring down the Wizengamot.