This one's a little lighter, I think. Disclaimer still applies, etc.

I read through the book in a day, and although it was less helpful than I would have liked, it gave me some definite ideas to start with. The author suggested that it was indeed possible to return a missing soul to its original owner. He even claimed, in the later chapters, to have done this for a young girl who had run afoul of a Dementor, but by that time his writing quite strongly suggested he was well on along the road to insanity, so I didn't place too much faith in the account.

Still, in his saner passages he recommended ways to locate the Dementor which held the particular soul one desired to find. As the soul in question was that of his wife, things got slightly sentimental, often involving the author breaking down and blubbering to his apathetic wife about how much he loved her, but I managed to sift out what I believed were the basics. It boiled down to the theory that one had to spend a lot of time near the person whose soul was missing, get to know them (as far as that was possible given their condition), and then cast a number of dauntingly complicated spells that would enable one to sense the general direction of the Dementor currently in possession of the soul.

With this in mind, I decided to visit Azkaban ahead of schedule. Unfortunately my increasingly antisocial lifestyle had caused me to be entirely unaware of the fact that it was Christmas, and so for the first time in my experience, I had to wait in a queue at the entrance of Azkaban.

Ahead of me were three families, all of whom I knew vaguely as relatives of incarcerated former Death Eaters. Waiting as the Aurors checked Nott's son for illusion spells, I commented idly to the man next in line, "Azkaban is such a cheery place to spend your Christmas, isn't it?"

He turned around, startled, and I found myself looking into the green-eyed face of Harry Potter.

"Damn. Potter," I said. I wasn't sure yet how I felt about Harry Potter, the Hero of the Century, but I knew quite without doubt that I still disliked Harry Potter, My Obnoxious Former Schoolmate.

"Malfoy," he said, inclining his head stiffly in my direction. I responded in kind, noticing that Potter had grown a dreadful, messy beard since I'd last seen him. It made him look like a twit.

"Visiting your father?" he asked.

"No, actually."

"Come to put yourself in Azkaban, then?"

I smirked at that. "In your dreams. I'm here to see Barty Crouch Jr."

An expression of confusion appeared on his face. "Why in the world would you do that?" he asked.

"That's hardly your business. Why are you here?"

"I'm picking up Mundungus Fletcher. He's spending Christmas at my place."

"I'll remember to give him my sympathies."

We remained silent for the rest of the wait, until I reached the Aurors. Dawlish was not there, this not being a Friday, but I recognized one of the other Aurors.

"Are you keeping your wand with you this time?" he asked.

"No, thank you. Happy holidays." I proceeded into the prison.

I had not intended to visit my father, but now I was aware that it was Christmas I decided to drop in. Climbing the stairs, I had the unique experience of hearing one hallway's worth of Aurors singing a carol. It is not an experience I wish to repeat.

Father was surprised to see me, but pleasantly so, and we spent a few minutes in light conversation before I headed down to the basement. Potter was already there, presumably to pick up Fletcher. An old, grizzled Auror was on duty instead of Stevie, but his intimidating appearance was somewhat lightened by a jolly red and white hat. He nodded to me.

"Stevie mentioned you," he said when I approached.

"Oh yeah? What did she say?"

"That you were barmy but otherwise alright," he replied. I told him that I wholeheartedly agreed with this sentiment, and went to watch Potter and Fletcher, the latter of which had just been released from his cell.

"So it'll be just you and me, then, at Grimmauld Place?" said Fletcher, his hound dog eyes glinting. I remembered that Potter now lived in the Blacks' house; doubtless it contained many valuable items that Fletcher thought well worth stealing.

"No; Ginny will be there too," Potter replied. Apparently he and the Weasley girl were still dating. I approved; the gits deserved each other.

Fletcher's face fell. "Oh. Well. Suppose we'd better be off." He slowly made his way up the stairs. Potter turned to follow him and caught me smirking in his direction.

"Happy Christmas," he told me, apparently with great restraint.

"And to you." He left. I reflected that, had we not been watched by an Auror, Potter might well have had considerably more to say. It was a shame; I would have enjoyed tossing insults back and forth with him. Our relationship of mutual dislike would be a comforting reminder that not everything had changed since the war.

I turned and made my way to Crouch's cell, nodding at the Auror as I passed. He headed towards where the McCarter sisters were staying, presumably to share some merry holiday cheer. I sighed, realizing that my own visit was likely to be less than cheerful.

Reaching my destination, I sat down beside the cell and looked in at Crouch, who was now located in a corner.

"Hello," I told him. As expected, he didn't respond. "I'm just going to sit here and talk with – to you for a while, alright?"

Naturally, he didn't answer, so I continued. "I'm researching Dementors, you know. It's a surprisingly interesting hobby. It keeps my mind off things, too. Did you have any hobbies growing up? I don't know. Maybe you collected Chocolate Frog cards. A lot of people do that."

I paused. Talking to a completely unresponsive person felt rather odd, but it was also strangely relaxing; it wasn't as if he'd laugh or say he was bored.

"You turned me into a ferret once. I was just fourteen. It was quite a traumatic experience. Have you ever tried transforming into an animal? It feels bizarre. The muscle structure is all different. Of course, you took Polyjuice Potion for a year, so I guess you'd know more about transforming than I do."

I continued in this fashion for a couple of hours, chatting one-sidedly on various light topics. Eventually, I got up and said goodbye to him, heading off in the direction of the staircase. I met the Auror at its foot.

"Hello again, Mr. Malfoy. You've been here a while."

"Yeah. Is that a problem? If you want me to leave you can just come and tell me."

"No, it's no problem. Just wondering what you were doing."

"Having a conversation," I replied. "Happy holidays."

Sorry about the beard thing, but hey, they never said what Harry looked like in the epilogue... As always, reviews are welcome.