QUEEN OF AZKABAN

Summary: Sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban for a crime she did not commit, Hermione is given a chance to change her fate. ("Tell me, Malfoy. What would I gain from listening to you?" He smirked. "Your freedom.") HGDM.

AN: You might get a little bored with this prologue, but I promise, the next chapter would be less descriptions and more dialogues. Plus, interaction between Draco and Hermione. So stay tuned. )

PROLOGUE

"I want to see and taste and feel and hear and know everything. I want to close my eyes, let my own dreams wrap itself around me, paint a thousand words and a thousand smiles, and, you know, just… fly."

(Laugh like the soft pitter-patter of rain)

"That's crazy."

(Smile like the blazing heat of your soul)

"Yeah. And that's why I know it's going to come true."

"In your dreams."

"I am dreaming."

(And wake up).

Dark clouds hung in the air like great curtains of doom, and with it came the heavy onslaught of rain, pouring mercilessly on the raging black sea as though they were daggers heading straight towards a large pool of blood. The combined forces of lightning and thunder emitted more fear than any other weapon- whether magical or not- known to mankind. Behind them, Poseidon showed his mighty wrath as heavy churning waves crashed and lapped against large, jagged rocks and against the large piece of dark, desolate land that formed the famed fortress of Azkaban.

Known as the scariest and gloomiest place in all wizarding Britain, Azkaban thrives on a massive illusion of stonewalls that stretched for miles and miles as far as the eye can see. Two heavy iron doors served as the only entrance to the fortress, and beside it, a small group of guards and Aurors were stationed to monitor the progress of criminals and visitors alike. But do not be fooled for the rust adorning these doors and the seemingly lack of people protecting it; on these doors lie countless wards, each as complicated as the rest, and the air hummed with strong traces of century-old magic.

As if the thought of tight security wasn't enough, prisoners are also subjected to deal with the cold, for there was never a day that passed when the area was not assaulted by thunderstorms. In fact, it was not uncommon for some of them to die from the cold because there was something so terribly different about it, not at all like the expected chilly air from the winter season, but rather it made those locked up encounter their worst nightmares. This, perhaps you may say, is indeed a fate far worse than death. It is perhaps something worse than dementors or any other life-sucking, fear-inducing creature they have ever met.

For behind these walls, the past, present and future merges into one. Behind these walls, people forget. Behind these walls, to live is a curse and to have Death's kiss is a blessing. Behind these walls, the forgotten lies. Behind these walls, their fates were doomed. But perhaps for one certain individual, her fate is just about to begin.

……………………………

Dark eyes stared unblinkingly at the darkness swirling around her, and despite her aura of indifference, she could not help but shiver at the freezing temperature inside her cell. Even if there were no windows for the breeze to pass through, her fingers were numb and blue from the cold and no amount of rubbing could make it go away. She sat with her back to the cold stonewall, her arms wrapped around her knees. They were marked with years' worth of grime and dust that it showed just how seldom she bathed.

Another bolt of lightning roared in the distance, illuminating the face of the dark figure. Brown eyes devoid of any emotion and lips so unnaturally pale were the features that belonged to Hermione Granger, Azkaban's most notorious prisoner. How, you may ask, did one go from being Harry Potter's best friend, one of the saviors of the wizarding world, to suspected Voldemort's spy and murderer of Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts? Simple. She had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. There had been a trial. And people. Lots and lots of people. Most of them were furious and refused to believe that she had committed the crime. But their indignation was nothing compared to the ones felt by members of the Order and her friends in Hogwarts. The now worldwide famous Harry Potter promised hell to pay for whoever had decided to frame his best friend. The same was said for Ron Weasley, the other part of the Golden Trio. They swore they would stand by her in her trial, no matter the circumstances. It was a promise they had both broken.

There came a time after the first few days of her trial that Hermione Granger saw something resembling doubt on her friends' faces. At first it was slow. They pressed her for more answers to questions she had been unable to answer, and then, as witnesses and evidences grew in number, that doubt had intensified, until one day, a confrontation came and history, as they said, was changed.

Traitor. The severed ties of friendship for the price of ambition. Traitor. Traitor.

She remembered these exact same lines at the day her sentence was announced. She remembered the hollow, empty feeling at the pit of her stomach. She remembered the flash of triumph on her former friends' faces. She remembered the whispers of the media, of the whole wizarding world. She remembered the scorn and absolute anger they had felt as they set their eyes upon her. She remembered the painful sting of injustice like a slap on the face. She remembered the fact that she was innocent. And it was with this knowledge that Hermione Granger said goodbye to the magical world with a bitter heart.

But contrary to popular belief, her stay in the famed fortress was anything but ordinary. She did not rave like most of her cellmates, and neither did she attempt to end her life. At first, the Ministry attributed her sane disposition to the fact that she had been the brightest witch of her age, and reckoned that after a month or so, she would not last. So they took it upon themselves to place raving and deadly criminals in the cell with her despite her stubborn refusal. But it proved to be an extremely fatal decision, and it was on that time when the brunette's reputation changed all over again.

It first began during her third week stay in the wizard prison (her method of keeping track of the days was simple – she would count how many meals she had had, for one meal is equivalent to one day) exactly after the guards had given her her very first cellmate.

He had been a low-ranking Death Eater from the first rise of Voldemort and it was hard to believe that this bald, pot-bellied man had been a person capable of cold-blooded murder. But it was not the identity of this man that one should focus on, but instead, his fate, because the following day, exactly twenty hours later, he was discovered dead; his body lay sprawled on the floor like a carpet, eyes glassy and lips parted in silent shock. His companion, on the other hand, appeared to be staring blankly at the opposite wall, sitting with one hand propped up on one knee, and looking as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

When questioned about the man's state, she had simply shrugged, fixed the Azkaban guards with a blank stare, and said casually, "He was just in shock, that's all."

Meeting her with disbelieving remarks, the healers had been called, and indeed, it was verified that no weapon had been used against the man, and neither was it the effect of magic since they were wards around every cell (especially hers) that prevented someone from using it. They had tried questioning her about it again, even going so far as to try to use Legillimency (Lucky for her, she had been a Master Occlumens since the beginning of the war), but all they got out of her was one sentence.

"The only thing I did was talk to him, and that hardly classifies as murder, does it?"

Angered at the way Hermione Granger seemed to get away with almost everything, the Ministry sent prisoner after prisoner to her cell. Some of them were old acquaintances, famous Death Eaters, and even former friends who had gone to the dark side, but all of them ended with the same fate. Death. They did not know how she was doing it, or if it was even her fault, for everyone knew that she was under surveillance and the guards themselves had claimed that she had done nothing more than talk to her cellmates (although they could not hear what she was saying due to the charms surrounding her cell).

This went on for quite some time, but still the current Minister of Magic, someone who closely resembled Fudge in attitude, refused to give up. The wards around her cell were strengthened, the guards watching her doubled, and prisoners were sent one after the other, but they only found out that when Hermione Granger was determined to do something (And that something, they speculated, was beyond anything they could comprehend), she would not stop until she obtained it.

Another two months passed, signaling the arrival of summer, and yet, things in Azkaban prison had yet to improve. By this time, Hermione had been dubbed by the Prophet (for someone within the confines of the fortress had leaked information to none other than Rita Skeeter) as "the most accomplished and feared Azkaban prisoner since the time of Grindelward". Naturally, Voldemort had never been a "prisoner", so the title had fallen into Hermione's hands. As for Sirius Black, the Prophet, and most British wizards also agreed, that having an infamous prisoner killing off her fellow prisoners while still in jail (true, there was no evidence to this, but the rumors had spread so fast that it was now considered common knowledge) was much more scandalous and interesting than being the very first person to ever break out of prison.

So to sum things up, one could say that with the media working around the clock like annoying bees to have printed copies of newspapers and magazines with Hermione Granger's face on the front cover, people became more than curious. Plans were made, meetings were conducted, and the only thing left was for the major players to meet and then, the game would start.

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