Seven years. Somehow in wise eyes of the remaining eighteen members of the wizengamot, two years in a muggle jail, one year of complete restriction with what amounted to a child's toy wand, two years of what they called relaxed restriction with strict monitoring, and finally two years of strict monitoring without restrictions made up for everything he did wrong.

During his trial, he had discovered a great many things.

First, when the ministry was "taken back", some pyromaniac probably Rowle, had destroyed the records room with fiendfyre. So now, they had to go forward from six months ago because blind hatred is what got us into this mess in the first place. They would only hold trials for things they had irrefutable proof for, which was the past five months of monitoring with some stray documents that workers hadn't yet filed when the fire was lit.

Second, he learned that he had been in captivity for eight months. This explained his sentence. With no proof of his previous misdeeds, he could only be charged with what he admitted to while sitting in that dark gloomy room in what he discovered was Sirius Black's family home. He also learned that she had been his only company for four and a half months of his stay.

Third, he learned that she held a great deal of respect within those eighteen wizengamot members. In fact, he'd place money on the fact that half of them were afraid of the little witch, and the other half probably owed some form of a life debt. Though the life debt bit was more a guess than an observation- he was given old prophet articles while waiting for trial. She had been one of the only three teenagers who stormed into Rowle Keep and leveled the forces of the Dark Lord. She was also the only one of those three who walked out of there. One of them had died and the other was still on the list of critical injuries as of - well, he wasn't exactly sure how old his latest newspaper was.

Fourth, he learned that his list of crimes was mainly centered around her. Apparently, he had felt the need to confess everything to her that he ever did to her. The largest charge, of course, being the attempted murder. And for some reason, she didn't go for equal retribution.

She went for mercy.

She could have had him kissed, they said as much when they had her on the stand. You are aware that by law that you may choose to have him kissed, do you feel the kiss should be given? And she said no. Strange, that. One day maybe he could ask her why.

He was brought out of his musings when three people entered the small room he had been brought to after the trial.

"Antonin Dolohov, you are now to be prepared for stay at HMP Pentonville. We will need to bind your magic temporarily, this process is fairly simple. This pendant will be put on, then disillusioned for the duration of your stay. No one will be able to remove it except for an approved Auror. Do you have any questions about this?"

He thought it over, "Yeah. What does it feel like?"

"We are told it will feel like water trickling down you and numbing part of you inside."

"And... and what happens with my magic?"

"The pendant is designed to carefully release any excess magic that would normally present as accidental magic when a wizard is denied access to his magic. There are also charms to encourage a healthy flow of magic to prevent the insanity that we saw often in Azkaban, as well as any accidents around muggles."

The woman next to the one explaining was rolling her eyes and muttering about wasting time on the criminals.

The woman speaking handed him the pendant to inspect. If he was right, it was a hematite stone that had been carefully formed into a perfect heptagon. There were runes engraved at each point. Some were too small to see, though he did make out Eihwaz, Algiz, and Nauthiz. He could feel the magical energy within the stone was powerful.

Even just holding the stone had his magic interacting and reaching out, just like when he picked up his wand.

She looked proud of the piece and he figured she had played a part in designing it. He remembered those days- when he was creating things that were worthy of his pride. It had been too many years of curses and pain.

"Do you have any further questions?"

He thought hard. He could delay this, but he was sure it was pointless, "No."

"When you are ready, please put on the necklace and we will secure and hide it and then transport you to the prison."

Antonin took one final glance at the pendant before he slipped it on and felt exactly what they described- a general numbness, he couldn't place what was numb though. It was as if he was numb yet feeling everything at the same time.

Where his magic flowed through him was now a nothingness, a warm nothingness, but nothingness all the same. He couldn't help but think how different a stay in Azkaban would be with one of these pendants.

After the woman had secured the necklace and disillusioned it, she left him in the care of the two Aurors who had yet to speak.

With a wave of a wand, they transfigured their Auror robes into standard muggle uniforms. After they transfigured Antonin's clothes into what he assumed was some muggle clothes, they walked him to the floo at the end of the hall. They traveled to a building next door to the prison.

As Antonin took in the site of his prison, he found himself thanking Merlin, Circe, Salazar and anyone else listening that he was here instead of Azkaban. He thanked them again for the strange witch who granted him mercy.

Where Azkaban was a tall structure without glass in the windows, constantly beat at by the waves of an unforgiving North Sea; HMP was grand sight full of windows and bars. The painful cold was not present inside the walls, and prisoners could interact without screaming their throats raw.

So much of the design of his prison would ward off the insanity and desperation of those within, and yet, they still gave him a protection stone.

The check-in process was unnerving. First, they read him his charges- well, his muggle charges at least. Then they cut his hair and shaved his beard. His clothes were taken and he was walked through showers and checkpoints and endless lines of guards. He was given clothes to wear, rules to follow and finally, he was shown to his bed.

He was on the third level, four cells in. It appeared he would be alone. There was not much in his cell, but still, it was more than Azkaban. A single bed, a metal toilet, a window a sink and a seat.

As he laid down to sleep, he thought to himself that compared to his time in Azkaban, he was sure these next two years would fly by before he knew it.