Harry sat in his chair, bored, waiting for the trial to begin. Fudge and the Wizengamot entered.
"Are you Harry James Potter, of number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey?" the Minister asked.
"Yeah."
"Harry!" Dumbledore rebuked.
"Fine, Yes I am Harry Potter and I live there. So what are the charges?" Harry asked startling everybody with his almost bipolar attitude.
"You stand accused of first degree murder..."
"I'm honoured first degree murder, was it actually that good?" Harry asked.
"... Of Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. You also stand accused of resisting arrest. Do you admit to these charges?" Fudge continued ignoring him.
"No certainly not. I worked hard planning their deaths. Don't you dare charge me for my work. On another note who will defeat Tommyboy if end up in Azkaban? Aren't I the chosen one?"
"Neville Longbottom is the chosen one. Now answer the question." Replied Dumbledore
"Fine. Yes I admit to those charges. Happy?"
"Harry James Potter you are sentenced to twelve years of imprisonment in Azkaban after which we will review your attitude."
That was twelve years ago, well elven years, elven months and thirty days ago to be exact but who's counting? Not Harry.
He was currently sitting in his six by seven foot cell waiting for the guards to come round with today's grub. If it could be called that it was basically nutrient sludge.
"Potter!" snapped one of the guards "you have a visitor. Come this way."
"Cool so who is it?" he asked as he was lead out of his cell.
"I don't know and don't care."