The two last people to enter the cold high-ceilinged room in the department of mysteries were Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore.
Hard times had taken their toll on Snape, his features appeared more strained; there was no denying he was no longer young though he looked as sharp as ever.
The people attending this trial filed in and settled on the many wooden benches. They stared towards a door in the corner of the room silently.
Vince Fielding, a tall man with a stoop joined the party on the benches. Through the same door in the corner he had left came two foreboding dementors grasping the limp body of a woman.
The woman was thrown into a deep chair with chains attached, only then did she raise her head: the chains had coiled tightly around her wrists and arms – binding her rigidly to the seat.
Hermione Granger was still a striking woman, she had brown hair with deep brown eyes to match and battle-worn skin bearing the scars of years of fighting.
Fielding shattered the silence which seemed to have frozen in mid-air.
"You are Hermione Granger, thirty-seven years of age, captured whist in the act of performing the cruciatus curse against Pius Thicknesse?"
Hermione could only tell the truth, there was no way out.
Hermione lifted her head and spoke out in a clear tone, "Yes, Pius Thicknesse, the ministry man."
It had been around twenty years since the first great war in Hogwarts. Harry Potter had been killed two weeks afterwards without a fight, the chosen one had perished without a fight.
In the current days Voldemort was a legend, but alive – just. The wizarding world had been shook as he had made himself less than human. Less than a spirit, Lord Voldemort's soul had been split into so many he was invincible.
At Hogwarts twenty years ago Lord Voldemort had killed hundreds of innocent children and forced the muggle-borns and undesirables world into submission.
"I wouldn't just torture Pius Thicknesse for the fun of it. You do already know I had a motive," persisted Hermione. "Just like a bumped off all those Death Eaters over the years - but they just keep recruiting, coming, don't they? Are you too ashamed of your Death Eaters to do anything about it when they disappear?"
The conviction in Hermione's voice bouncing of the walls seemed to defeat the dementor's chill effortlessly.
"The ministry, and all of the evidence, did just prove that obviously, without the shrieking."
"The ministry means no more than the Dark Lord!" spat Hermione malevolently.
The man flicked through the many papers on his desk.
"All who vote Hermione Granger receives a life sentence in Azkaban?" barked Fielding at last.
All of the wizards seated raised their hands.
It was common knowledge that Dumbledore would have attempted to save Hermione but his body had been animated three years ago by Snape, Lord Voldemort's man, revered by Death Eaters as what they should aspire to.
The resurrection stone had revived Snape days before Harry Potter was finally killed, six days after the battle in Hogwarts. The resurrection stone had chosen to bring back the pure of heart – Severus Snape.
Snape raised his had with the rest of the people on the bench, knowing what was expected of him. Dumbledore mirrored - he was no longer the powerful wizard he used to be, he was indeed an inferi, stone-cold dead. Though dead, Voldemort had him crudely paraded as though nothing had changed twenty-one years ago when he was killed.
Hermione remembered the headmaster from her days at Hogwarts, the old patient professor with a constant smile. It sickened her to see his dead body sat on the bench among the other live people. Snape was the last sight she saw as she was taken from the by scabbed grey hands.
"Just another scrape," Hermione reassured herself quietly aloud.
Hermione had spent over half of her life so far fighting Death Eaters and the Ministry, wiping memories, setting up missions with the New Worlders. The New Worlders were a group of militant wizards. The members changed so often there often wasn't time to learn names, just trust each other.
Nine years ago, ten years into the history of the New Worlders all of them were killed except Hermione, she had survived. After that recruiting was hard, Hermione had managed to scrape together some vicious werewolves off the outskirts of Hangleton.
Hermione would share a few months with the gang before members were cruelly slaughtered and they had to move on. It was true that Hermione had been physically killed once but she was alive and brutal. She had carried out tortures, murders even using inferi of her dead New Worlders.
As the years passed the thoughts of using Dumbledore's peaceful methods of retaliation had passed through her mind only to be dismissed. Perhaps Lord Voldemort had been right about about Dumbledore. Hermione had fought for Dumbledore but used means that matched his enemies.
In all of Hermione's scrapes this one had angered her the most - being dragged off by dementors. The memory of waking in an undergrowth with a chunk of her thigh torn and bloody due to a particularly vile werewolf brought a reminiscing smile to her face, even as the dementors escorted her through the wrought gates of Azkaban.
It was just another scrape.