"Ennervate!" replied Hermione, as the minister opened his eyes groggily to the acrid smell of foul vapors rising from the bubbling liquid below him. Frantically looking around he realized the source of his bondage, the very witch he sentenced to life a few years ago, though her face appeared hauntingly hollow due to the steady malnutrition at the volcanic island. Gone were the pastel shades she wore at Hogwarts, replaced by a set of brown robes slightly worn, muggle boots and a pair of dark shirt and slacks. The most striking feature being the myriad of scars running down her face healed haphzardly by her magic. Fear crept along his spine as he began contemplating his fate and situation.