A/N: I know, I know. Another new fic. I'm addicted. It's Canimal's fault this time. She infected me with a plunnie that wouldn't leave me alone when I first read her fic Echoes of Silence. After obtaining her blessing to run with it, here I am plying you with more Death Eater love! =) Special thanks to both Canimal and Freya Ishtar for all their love and support and encouragement. They keep me right on the train to keep these updates rolling out to all of you in a timely fashion. This one will be extremely different from A Promise Unspoken and from Splinter. It also won't be updated as frequently as either of the other two. But I hope you like it nonetheless.

ANNOUNCEMENT: Freya Ishtar, Canimal and I cordially invite all of you to join us aboard The Death Eater Express - a FB group we started where all things Death Eater related, sneak peeks at chapters, graphics and chapter announcements can be found.

Warnings and Triggers: Dub-con, abuse, violence, humiliation, lack of privacy, obsessive behaviour, clinical doping, smut and sexual tension, blood magic and some squicky stuff.

Jailbird Blues

By Kittenshift17

Chapter 1

She was led before the full Wizengamot in chains. Her body shivered and trembled with the cold. Her prison robes hung from her half-starved frame, exposing her protruding clavicles to the cool air of the courtroom. Her hair was damp and matted, a tangled mess of curls tormented by the never-ending wind blowing into her cell off the freezing North Sea. Her skin was grimy and unwashed; she bore the fading reminders of all she had survived and she was sure she had an infection in one of the cuts one her arm where Bellatrix Lestrange had taken to her with a cursed dagger.

The Courtroom was alive with whispers as the latest in a long line of prisoners was retrieved from Azkaban and dragged before the court for trial. In the aftermath of the final battle the Ministry had been indiscriminate in its arrest of all the combatants who'd fought during the Battle of Hogwarts. Students, teachers, Death Eaters, Order of the Phoenix Members; all of them had been clapped in irons and hauled off to Azkaban to await trial. The deaths of Harry Potter and Tom Riddle had hit the wizarding community hard, a dizzying blow that had left them all reeling and in a state of confusion.

Amid the chaos, it had made more sense to simply arrest everyone and sort out who was who later on. Hermione Granger had been certain that when she was recognised, she would be set free. She had been certain that the prisoners who'd been rounded up – including many wounded in battle – would at least be given access to decent drinking water, food and medical treatment to ensure they didn't die before their guilt or innocence could be determined.

She hadn't counted on the fact that somehow, slippery snake of a woman that she was, Dolores Jane Umbridge, former Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, would be in charge of her trial. She was in charge of everyone's trials, Hermione knew. Ron's trial had been yesterday. Ginny's the day before that. Both of them had been set free, cleared of all charges by overwhelming vote for the negative upon call for conviction. Umbridge had apparently tried hard to ensure both former students of hers had remained in custody.

However, Ginny's presence at Hogwarts throughout the war while Ron, Hermione and Harry had all been on the run had afforded her an alibi for much of her whereabouts during the war. It was well-known that she had been at school and that she had rebelled against Snape's authority, but that worked in her favour. Similarly, the cover-story Ron had concocted for himself – that he'd been suffering from a nasty case of Spattergroit and confined to his bed for much of the year – had seen him freed. Ministry records showed that Ronald Bilius Weasley had been bed-ridden for months.

Ron and Ginny had both been acquitted.

Hermione, on the other hand, was not looking forward to all she expected would be thrown at her. It was no secret that throughout her career at Hogwarts and the subsequent year she'd spent on the run with Harry, Hermione had done many illegal things.

"Hermione Jean Granger?" Dolores Umbridge simpered from the lectern where she stood, prosecuting the case with a wretched gloating smile affixed to her wide, toad-like mouth.

"Dolores Jane Umbridge?" Hermione retorted in her best snarky tone.

She might be half-starved, cold, hungry, tired and battered by the grief of so many people lost during the war, but she was far from broken and she refused to let this vile excuse for a human being see her weaknesses.

"Miss Granger, are you aware why you have been brought before the Ministry today?" Umbridge asked in her disgusting simper that so made Hermione's skin crawl.

"Because you are all inept at your jobs and have seen fit to arrest most of the people responsible for Voldemort's defeat?" Hermione asked, one eyebrow raised sardonically.

A mutter swept through the Wizengamot at her words. It had been all over the papers that war-heroes and criminals alike had all been hauled off to prison. The wizarding populous of Britain was outraged that their children, their friends and their saviours had been rounded up and thrown in prison. The guards of Azkaban – those few Aurors who'd just been doing their job, no matter how distasteful it might be – had kept the Order members and Death Eaters alike fully informed. They might not have been able to give food or any better warmth than some mediocre warming charms, but they'd kept the prisoners up to date on real world events.

Including the outrage of the public over the incarcerations. Many were angry and most of the trials that had taken place were rushed ahead by families screaming for blood feuds if their children weren't released. As a result, Hermione's own trial was one of the last pertaining to those amid the Order. The Weasley's had all been locked up along with her, including Percy, and so there had been no one to screech for her release until Arthur, Bill, Percy and Charlie had all been released. Molly was serving a short sentence for the well-known murder of Bellatrix Lestrange – though it was taking place upon a hospital words after the woman had fallen ill inside Azkaban.

Hermione's was the last on the long list of Order members being tried and unfortunately, not all of them had been lucky enough to be acquitted. Neville Longbottom had been sentenced to life in Azkaban for the murder of no less than five hundred and fourteen people – the tallied death toll of all who'd been destroyed in the blast of the bridge on the grounds. Seamus had been similarly sentenced as he'd been the one to set the explosions in the first place. They had both been escorted to the maximum security floors of the prison and left to rot despite the arguments from families.

Kingsley had been given ten years for using his position as an Auror to leak information to the Order, for the use of the Imperius Curse and the Killing Curse upon Death Eaters and Snatchers. He'd been stripped of his badge and his rank amid the Auror Guard and given a dis-honourable discharge from the service.

The Ministry, clearly under the influence of Umbridge, had been prosecuting everyone to the fullest extent of the law and it did not bode well for Hermione that she had no fall-back story like Ron did. Their actions during the war meant nothing unless they could be proven necessary in the eyes of the law. The destruction of the Horcruxes was not widely known and so no one really knew what Hermione had been up to, outside of her crimes. And they were many. Hermione had been counting them in her head to help pass the time while she'd been sitting in her cell in Azkaban alongside Hannah Abbott, Luna Lovegood and – up until yesterday – Ginny Weasley.

Hannah had been freed from prison and acquitted of any crime when no definitive proof suggested she'd had any hand in crime outside of rebelling at school under Snape's tyranny. Luna had been another story entirely. The vague blonde witch had been questioned at length about where she had been, why she wasn't at school and what she'd been doing. Mr Ollivander had spoken for her, claiming they had both been held in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. Even the Malfoy's had been hauled out of prison and questioned on the matter – something all three of them had later been prosecuted for.

Lucius and Draco were both serving life sentences – as seemed to be the trend for any Marked Death Eater. Any who bore the Dark Mark were immediately remanded back to Azkaban, no matter the severity of their crimes. Draco's inactivity as a Death Eater, his being underage at the time of being Marked and his father's argument that he'd forced Draco into it had fallen on deaf ears at the Ministry and not even all of the Malfoy's money could save either of them from prison.

"You are here, Miss Granger, because you are a criminal," Umbridge corrected her, that wretched mouth stretching into an even wider smile at Hermione's sass, "Shall we begin listing the charges?"

"Oh, please do," Hermione replied, "Tell me what my hand in saving the wizarding world from a megalomaniac's tyranny is worth in comparison to my apparent crimes, Dolores."

The Wizengamot muttered amongst themselves again and Hermione got the feeling they were unused to such snarky trial subjects. After all, everyone else was protesting their innocence and screaming for release. Hermione herself didn't have high hopes.

"You are a muggleborn, Miss Granger, is that correct?" Umbridge asked.

"I am," Hermione replied nodding her head.

"Yet you did not present yourself to the Ministry for questioning when summoned, Miss Granger. All muggleborns were required to do so. You were issued several warnings by owl, all of which went unanswered. When your refusal to appear before the Wizengamot continued, a warrant was issued for your arrest. Were you aware of that?" Umbridge asked.

"Yes, Merlin forbid I resist willingly surrendering myself to Voldemort's clutches," Hermione retorted, rolling her eyes, "Tell me, Dolores, has anyone checked your forearm for a Dark Mark? I feel certain that were they to do so, they would find you branded."

"This trial does not pertain to me, but to you, Miss Granger," Umbridge snapped, her beady little eyes narrowing, "You will restrict your answers only to the questions put to you or you will be remanded back to Azkaban immediately."

"A touchy subject then?" Hermione smirked at the witch, "Do go on, Dolores. What else am I being charged with?"

"You are a member of the Order of the Phoenix, is that correct?" the witch asked, her horrid, shit-eating grin returning at Hermione's cheek.

"I am," Hermione nodded, "You'll notice, of course that were it not for the Order, you'd all still be pushing papers, prosecuting muggleborns as thieves of magic and otherwise living in terror, yes?"

"Miss Granger, I will not warn you again about conduct within this courtroom," Umbridge replied, "During your membership of the Order of the Phoenix, you and Harry Potter resisted arrest, committed terrorist acts by breaking into Gringotts bank, used the Imperius curse upon goblins and wizards, used illegally obtained Polyjuice potion to impersonate persons now-deceased, entered a vault you were not permitted access to, stole from that vault, stole the Ukranian Ironbelly dragon residing within the bank as a security measure, broke back out of the bank and went on the run, isn't that correct?"

Hermione sighed, watching the way the witches and wizards of the Wizengamot began to look condemning of her actions.

"That's correct. I impersonated Bellatrix Lestrange, broke into her vault and stolen the cup of Helga Hufflepuff – an object that Voldemort has used to create one of seven Horcruxes," Hermione replied evenly.

"You also admit to the theft and destruction of priceless wizarding artefacts?" Umbride asked, looking gleeful.

"I admit to destroying Horcruxes. The objects were already desecrated and destroyed by the time Harry and I got to them," Hermione retorted, being careful to leave all mention of Ron out of it, lest the bitch use the information to recall him for further prosecution.

"Whilst on the run you also assaulted Mafalda Hopkirk, impersonated her and used Polyjuice potion to enter the Ministry, isn't that correct?" Umbridge demanded.

"I did," Hermione nodded, "We needed to enter the Ministry undetected to retrieve another Horcrux. One, incidentally, Dolores, that was hanging around your flabby neck. Tell me, are we to believe that you weren't a Marked Death Eater and in league with Voldemort when you were boldly wearing a piece of his soul conceal in the locket of Salazar Slytherin right around your neck? One, I might add, that you unlawfully confiscated from Mundungus Fletcher in Diagon Alley and passed off with lies about it being family heirloom. Lies, Dolores, are not to be tolerated within the Ministry, isn't that correct?"

Umbridge looked scandalized when many people within the Wizengamot began to look at her, clearly remembering the incident Hermione spoke of, and the locket Umbridge had worn. Hermione had no idea how the bitch wasn't on trial herself, given that she'd been prosecuting muggleborns for the apparent theft of magic. It was clear many of her colleagues disliked her.

"Again, Miss Granger, we are here prosecuting you. If you do not limit your answers to the questions asked of you, you will be dealt with accordingly," Umbridge threatened, her eyes narrowing again.

"More defensive behaviour when asked uncomfortable questions, Dolores," Hermione clucked her tongue, being sure to make it sound like centaur's hooves upon the stone floor and enjoying the way the bitch twitched, "I think the Wizengamot ought to be looking very inquisitively in your direction, Umbridge."

"ENOUGH!" Umbridge hissed when Hermione clicked her tongue again.

"Actually, I'm far from through," Hermione replied calmly, "While we're at it, why don't we have a discussion about your use of illegal Blood-Quills upon students during your teaching career, Dolores? What was that phrase you were so fond of having use all write? I must not tell lies. Wasn't that it? Are you aware, Dolores, that the use of Blood Quills was outlawed in 1495? Punishable by up to ten years in prison and on par with using the Imperius curse upon a person? Blood magic, Dolores, is a nasty business, wouldn't you, agree?"

"If you don't hold your tongue, you wretched little bitch," Umbridge snarled, "I will have it pulled from your head."

"Madame Umbridge!" calls shock issued from around the room.

"Hem, hem," Dolores feigned a cough.

"Oh dear, Dolores," Hermione smirked, "It seems you've rather tipped your hand here. A conflict of interests and a personal feud between you and I certainly does put something of a damper on you trying my case, doesn't it? One might go so far as to say you've a vendetta against me. How am I to be guaranteed a fair trial when you personally would like to wring my neck for handing you over to a herd of enraged centaurs, Madame Umbridge?"

"Is this true, Dolores? You've a vendetta against Miss Granger?" a member of the Wizengamot asked.

"My personal feelings regarding the witch have no bearing on the crimes she has committed, though I will, Miss Granger, be adding assault of Ministry officials – Mafalda Hopkirk and Dolores Umbridge – to your list of crimes. Shall we move on to the more serious charges? You, Miss Granger, are accused of the murder of Gerard Selwyn, Angus Hastings, Camilla Bulstrode and Fenrir Greyback. You are further accused of assaulting Lysander Yaxley, Barnabus Scabior, Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange and Albert Runcorn. You have admitted to the robbery of Gringotts bank, illegal possession and use of Polyjuice potion and resisting arrest. Tell me, Miss Granger, are there any other crimes you would like to confess to at this time? Keep in mind that any other crimes committed by you that you attempt to conceal from this court will be uncovered and lying to us will see you further prosecuted.

"You've evidence for my murdering people, do you?" Hermione challenged, raising both eyebrows in surprise to hear she was being charged with murder.

"We have several eye-witness accounts, combined with the use of Prior Incantatum upon your wand. Did you know, Miss Granger, that the charm causes the spectral forms of any person you have murdered with that wand to erupt?" Umbridge asked condescendingly.

"As my school records can attest, Dolores, I am extremely well-educated, so yes, I was aware of that effect pertaining to Priori Incantatum. Given your own records and your teaching career, I do find myself surprised to learn you know about… well, anything at all really," Hermione replied coldly.

She could see that the eyes of the Wizengamot were hardening. They would convict her. They weren't going easy on murderers unless there was proof that the lives had been taken in self-defence. And most of hers had been committed during the Final Battle, where she had gotten the drop on her opponents or been duelling with them. Meaning they had been done without too much of a fight against her or threat to her. Unless you counted the part where the others were on the team trying to kill her and her friends.

A few Wizengamot coughed to cover their snickers over her remark, but many more looked stern about her cheek. Hermione felt a sinking feeling in her gut. She wasn't going to be set free. Even if she was to argue Umbridge's grudge against her, and even if she tried to say it had all been for the greater good, Hermione suspected she was on her way back to Azkaban tonight.

And if she was going to go, Hermione was taking the pink, wretch toad of a witch down with her.

"How do you plead, Miss Granger?" Umbridge demanded.

"Guilty," Hermione sighed, "Though I do have a few more crimes you ought to take into consideration while deliberating over my sentence."

"Oh?" brows rose around the room at her words.

She might have been relieved of her wand at the time of her incarceration, but the Wizemgamot had down something very foolish when they had clapped her in chains and left her to rot in a cell for weeks. When they had refused her medical treatment, they had made a grave error. One Dolores Umbridge would pay for. Closing her eyes for a moment, Hermione twisted both her wrists in their chains, causing the torn, chaffed skin to tear anew. She bit down hard on the cuts up her lip until blood flowed free.

"Debita Petere Sanguinem, Dolores Janes Umbridge," Hermione snarled, allowing the magic within her body to flare, calling upon ancient blood magic she'd read about in the book pertaining to Horcruxes Dumbeldore had given her.

Umbridge began to scream, her hands splitting open upon the lectern and blood pouring from them. As it poured free, the blood magic Hermione had summoned ripped that blood up and upon the dusty courtroom floor, in large, crimson letters, the blood of many began scrawling words against the stone.

'I must not tell lies', slithered across the floor in Umbridge's blood much larger than what she'd made Harry write.

'I must remember my place', followed – the words the evil toad had demanded Hermione herself and many other muggleborn students should write.

Discord is not permitted at Hogwarts scrawled across the floor, words Hermione had seen scarred on the back of Fred and George Weasley's hands.

"What is going on?" Wizengmaot members shouted, as slowly, the blood pouring from Umbridge began to pour into other shapes. Many more sentences scrawled on the stone before shapes before to form instead. Images of wolves, centaurs, mermaids, goblins and elves all smeared across the stones.

Lives she was responsible for ruining. Blood she had cost creatures and people with her prejudice and her reforms and her legislations.

"What have you done?" Umbridge was screaming, the blood slowly draining from her body.

"I have called in the debt of those whose blood you owe, Dolores," Hermione told the witch, "Every life you have stolen is depicted there in that blood. The words are those you forced innocent children to write in their own blood upon parchment with you barbaric quill at Hogwarts. Every full shape is a life you have ever with your cruelty. Every sentence is one you solicited from another in blood."

"She'll die!"

"She's going to pass out!"

"What do we do?"

The Ministry fell into chaos as the witch in question continued to bleed, more and more blood ripped from her body until she did indeed lose consciousness and slump over her lectern. They all looked at a loss over what to do. Blood magic could not simply be ended the way a regular spell could. There was not Finite Incantatum to cease the spell. Once activated, the only way for the spell to end was for it to run its course. Umbridge would bleed until her debt was paid, or until all the blood in the victim's body was bled dry.

Umbridge's foul existence looked like it was going to result in the latter.

The Wizengamot seemed at a loss of what to do. Most were beyond horrified by the grisly sight of all the blood arranging itself in patterns upon the courtroom floor. Others didn't seem to understand what she'd done or how she'd activated the magic without a wand. Hermione herself sat chained to her chained, staring at the slumped, unconscious form of Dolores Umbridge where she had fallen against her lectern. A black, inky stain was spreading down the length of one of her pink sleeves from the inkwell she'd knocked on its side as she fallen.

"Is she dead?" someone asked several minutes later when, finally, the bloody patterns upon the floor stopped.

"I can't feel a pulse," a clerk commented, pressing fingers to Umbridge flabby neck.

"Of course you can't feel a bloody pulse, most of her blood is arranged on the courtroom floor!" someone called, "Is she breathing?"

Hermione looked on at the ensuing chaos, cursing to herself to learn that for the time being, Umbridge was still alive. Aurors were called into the room, though they seemed unsure what to do since subduing her was rather pointless. Hermione hadn't actually moved in her chains other than to shift her wrists against her manacles. There was blood on her mouth from the way she'd bitten her lip, furthering the split thanks to the wide grin upon her face.

People were panicking, alarmed by the blood magic, alarmed by the idea of a wandless prisoner performing such magic right there in the courtroom. Others were trying to figure out how to help Umbridge and she was eventually carried away on a stretcher my medical staff, bound for St. Mungo's.

"Miss Granger, you were responsible for the attempt on Madame Umbridge's life just now, is that correct?" a stern looking wizard with shrewd eyes stepped into Umbridge's place, calling for order and settling the court once more.

"All I did was activate the spell," Hermione shrugged, "The Powers that Be did the rest. It seems Madame Umbridge owed rather a lot of blood debts."

She couldn't hide her smirk as she spoke through bloodied lips.

"You realise that this attempt on Madame Umbridge's life, in correlation with your other crimes will buy you a life sentence to Azkaban, don't you, Miss Granger?" the wizard asked, looking rather baffled by her triumph.

"I was already bound for Azkaban. If there was a chance to take that wretched whore out with me, I had to take it," Hermione replied evenly, "I assume that you still need to put the decision to a vote?"

"Hermione Granger, you have pleaded guilty to murder. You have pleaded guilty to grievous bodily assault on Ministry staff. You have pleaded guilty to terrorist activity resulting in a bank robbery, commandeering of a Gringotts dragon, illegal use of polyjuice potion and fraud through the impersonation of Ministry officials. You have pleaded guilty to resisting arrest whilst being fully aware that there was a Ministry-issued warrant out for you. You have admitted to destroying important historical artefacts. You have pleaded guilty to the use of Unforgiveable curses and you have practiced blood magic in full view of the entire Wizengamot," the wizard listed her crimes, "Do you have anything to offer in your defence?"

"We were at war," Hermione shrugged her shoulders, "Horcruxes containing pieces of Voldemort's soul needed to be found and destroyed. I killed people during the battle at Hogwarts in defence of my own life and the lives of others. I simply did what I had to in order to survive long enough to see Harry defeat Tom Riddle once and for all."

"Very well, at this time the Wizengmot will put the case to a…." the man was interrupted before he could say the word vote when the door to the courtroom was thrown open.

"Add to her charges the wilful murder of Dolores Umbridge," Auror Proudfoot stated as he entered the room in long stride, "She died before they could get her to the hospital."

The whole courtroom fell silent in shock and horror over the idea, though Hermione noticed that more than a few of them looked rather glad to be rid of the bitch.

"Very well, Miss Granger you are charged with five counts of murder, six counts of grievous bodily assault, Grand theft, and desecration of historic magical artefacts, resisting arrest and possession of banned substances. In addition to that, you have performed illegal and highly dangerous blood magic without authorisation. You have confessed to these crimes and have offered no legal defence. At this time the Wizengamot will take a vote," the man informed her before turning his attention to the gathered members.

"Those is favour of convicting the accused of all charges?" he asked.

Hermione looked around the room, watching the way a number of hands shot up. She tried to tally them quickly with her eyes.

"Those in favour of acquittal?" the wizard asked, having voted to convict her.

Less hands went up that time.

"Help save the wizarding world from a psychopathic tyrant and this is the thanks I get? Delightful," Hermione scoffed, "Never mind that I nearly died a number of times trying to make sure Voldemort would be vanquished for good. Never mind that I only killed in self-defence and defence of others. Excluding Umbridge, obviously. But come on, that bitch needed to die. She's ruined more lives that even Voldemort did."

"Hermione Jean Granger, you are hereby convicted on all charges and sentenced to life in Azkaban prison, pending your health examination and any actionable circumstances that will see you spared from your sentence for a time," the wizard declared, banging his gavel.

Her heart constricted inside her chest. She'd known it was coming, but the fear of spending her life behind bars terrified her nonetheless.

"Aurors, escort Miss Granger to the criminal section of the St. Mungo's. See to it that she is sedated. Her wandless magic is still actionable," the wizard ordered.

Hermione recoiled when Auror Proudfoot and Auror Entwhistle came forward, collecting her in her chains and dragging her from the courtroom. She was led away through the main entrance where, beyond the doors, the reporters and the crowds eagerly awaited the fate of Hermione Granger and the result of her trial.

Hermione glared hatefully as the reporters began to scream their questions and snap their pictures. She spotted Ron and Ginny both in the crowd, jostling, trying to get to her. Trying to save her from her fate. Too bad there was nothing they could do for her now. Not where she was going. Like Neville and Seamus and countless wretched Death Eaters before her, Hermione would be carted off the Azkaban for the rest of her life.

Didn't that just sound delightful?