Disclaimer- I do this for fun, not funds.
Bottom of the Barrel
In the aftermath of the Wizarding War, cannon came to bear on one Dolores Jane Umbridge former-Special Assistant to the Minister of Magic for her activities since the time she took up the position of Senior Under Secretary to the Minister of Magic. Harry Potter and various members of Dumbledore's Army and Order of the Phoenix served as character witnesses against Umbridge in the ensuing hearing; the result was mixed. Umbridge lost her job within the Ministry and in a twist of poetic justice had her magic irretrievably revoked. The manse she had lived in all of her life was sold to pay the court levied damages to be awarded to victims of her reign of terror. It was only by luck that she managed to avoid Azkaban or execution. This unexpected outcome was only due to Harry Potter's compassionate nature. Despite her treachery, the Boy-Who-Defeated-Voldemort couldn't bare to see the loss of another life, not even Umbridge's.
Without her Ministry job and connections, her beautiful home on a rolling landscape, magic gone, not to mention owing her freedom to a man she tried to have tortured and killed; things couldn't get much worse for the former witch. Friendless, Dolores had to seek out Muggle employment and lodging in which to carry out the rest of her days. Left with one transferable skill, Dolores taught piano. She had been good in spite of her stumpy fingers. Walking home to her little brick walk-up, she came upon a low-rent claptrap row house. Curtains were pulled back from the picture window, the university students occupying it were having a party.
Through the plate glass window shouting was clearly audible, "it's just beer-pong mate, put that shit away. Come on mate, lets watch some tit flicks, put that shit up."
Always a fan of strife and violence Umbridge had been transfixed by the altercation. "You fuck, you cheated! I'm going to blow your head off, then your pathetic nads." Then a 'pop, pop' rang out. The two bullets broke the window, making the glass fell pathetically; one stray bullet pierced skin, muscle coming to a comfortable rest in the left atrium of her heart.
"You fuck! You just killed that old lady!"