The moment everything ended, Hailey Garner was in Knockturn Alley.
She knew it instinctively, along with the burning pain in her forearm.
Voldemort was dead.
"We" had lost.
After that, everything moved fast. The survivors were so damn efficient that it took less than a week for the Death Eaters to end up in the Ministry of Magic's underground cells awaiting trial.
Of course, even when times changed, people stayed the same—the ringleaders from the "Sacred Twenty-Eight" families used the good old "Imperius" Curse excuse and got off with fines. The ones sent to Azkaban were people like Hailey Garner. The ones who were just used as tools.
Her memories of Azkaban were hazy. (Because there were too many prisoners to contain, the Dementors got to keep their jobs.)
The whole world was filled with nothing but the sensation of "cold." She'd lost track of time ages ago.
And then finally, that day came. The day she could end her grueling life.
As the guards strapped the prisoners to chairs, the familiar cold began to freeze her body from her toes up. The guards seemed to feel it too—they shivered and hurriedly muttered a few binding spells before rushing out of the room.
The knots at her wrists were imperfect. Sloppy enough that she might be able to loosen them if she gritted her teeth and struggled.
But...
So what if she got loose?
What would she do once she was free?
Besides, Hailey Garner had been waiting for this moment for quite a while.
Finally, a time to rest without any missions.
The pain wouldn't last long.
It would be shorter than the life she'd lived.
She closed her eyes, feeling her heart and reason go numbingly cold as the black cloak approached.
But the next moment, cold air rushed into her dried-up lungs.
She coughed so hard it brought tears to her eyes, and something like warmth returned to her frozen body.
It's cold.
Cold, but different from the chill a Dementor creates.
She blinked her crusty eyes and looked around at the familiar scenery. So hell was just a replay of the lowest point in your life? What a completely unimaginative hell.
Anyway, it was cold enough to freeze to death again. Feeling the wind cutting through her flesh, her ears ready to fall off, and her numb cheeks, she slowly sat up. Her whole body felt like it was breaking apart.
So hellfire runs cold, huh. She muttered through frozen lips as she tried to bend her stiff fingers.
But wait.
Her blue-tinged fingers were way too short and thin.
She raised her head and looked at her reflection in the broken window, and she wanted to faint.
An undeniable realization hit her like lightning.
Ah. Go to hell.
Why is God so stupid?
This kind of opportunity should be given to someone who actually wants it.
It seemed like she'd been given a second chance.