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Friday, August 27, 1999

They’re murmuring again. Trying to keep their voices low so the prisoner can’t hear. But the prisoner is fifteen feet away, and they are failing.

I wish they would take me out of the room if they need to discuss. Bring me back to the small room I was in this morning. But, of course, they let me stand in this cage in the middle of them. On display.

I pick a spot four feet in front of me and maintain my gaze. I don’t want to look at them and I don’t want to fall asleep. I feel a yawn.

“Mr. Malfoy. Your next witness is here. Are you ready to proceed?”

I almost smile. Do I have a choice?