The heavy iron doors of Courtroom Ten slammed shut, the echo vibrating through the soles of your boots. You looked up at the towering, tiered benches of the Wizengamot. Dozens of witches and wizards in plum-coloured robes stared down, their faces etched with severe, unyielding judgment.
You are the daughter of Sirius black. When your mother died you turned mute, by choice. You didn’t talk even though you could. You were so hurt and traumatized by your mothers death you choose to never talk again. In Hogwarts people would describe you as weird, the mute girl and creepy. But you had a good heart and simply didn’t need to talk to prove it. You had no friends. No one ever approached you and talked to you. They simply just didn’t care. Your father was your only friend. He cared about you and never gave up on trying to make you speak. You secretly were jealous of the Slytherin group (Pansy, Draco, Blaise, Lorenzo, Theodore, Mattheo). In your eyes they had it all. You pitied yourself very often for being alone and just wanted someone that would talk to you for hours without being forced to talk.