Draco growled in frustration as he kicked the chair next to him, sending it skidding across the empty classroom. "This charm sucks!"

"You said you wanted to learn it," Hermione pointed out, munching on a biscuit.

"I know, I know," he muttered, his shoulders slumping down. "I'm usually great at casting. I've never had his much difficulty before."

"Stop being so hard on yourself," Hermione said gently. "It's not an easy charm to master. It took Harry a few lessons with Remus to get it. I had trouble mastering it myself."

Draco gave a half nod and took a deep breath. "Okay, happy thoughts."

"Not just thoughts, emotion. You have to feel it, completely immerse yourself in it. What memory are you using?"

"It's hard to narrow it down to one so it's a string of them," he replied.

"Maybe that's why you're not getting it," she explained. "You're focusing on the events that happened, not so much the actual experience. Forget what you see and pull forward what you felt, let it fill you up."

"Alright," Draco nodded, raising his wand. He cleared his mind, pulling the emotions forth and allowing them to take over. "Expecto Patronum."

Up until that point, the most Draco was able to produce was the tiniest flicker of light from his wand before it quickly died away. This time however, a small silver shield burst out, swirling between Hermione and himself for a few seconds before dissipating.

He turned to her, a grin lighting up his eyes. "Did you see that?"

She laughed at his excitement. "One more try and you might have it."

"Show me your Patronus, love. I've never seen it."

Hermione slid off the desk she was perched on and pulled out her wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

Draco watched as the brilliant silver light burst from her wand before coalescing into a shimmering transparent otter that danced through air before settling on his shoulder, squeaking animatedly.

"She's cute," he grinned, earning a happy nuzzle from the otter. "So it takes the form of your favorite animal?"

"For some, or it becomes whatever best represents who they are."

"Interesting," he mused. "Okay, I'm gonna give one more go."

"You've got this," Hermione encouraged, kissing his cheek.

Determined, Draco cleared his mind of all thoughts and focused on the emotions flowing through him, waving his wand in a circular motion. A few seconds later, he laughed triumphantly as the silver shield emitting from his wand finally formed into a corporeal being; a massive creature that came to Draco's chest.

Hermione stepped forward excitedly. "It's too big for a wolf, or a werewolf for that matter," she said, studying the Patronus.

"It's a Dire Wolf. I was fascinated by them as a kid," Draco said, glancing at Hermione. "Near human intelligence, can live up to a century, and they were thought to have apparating abilities. Did you ever read the legend connecting Dire Wolves to lycanthropy?"

Hermione nodded. "An animagus by the name of Lycaon. Supposedly, on the night of both a full and blood moon, he was bitten by a rabid Dire Wolf, a magical creature, while in his wolf form. End result, Lycanthropy. Supposedly."

"After that, Dire Wolves were nearly hunted to extinction. The few hundred remaining packs retreated into the mountains of Canada, but there have been recently reported sightings as far south as Ohio in the States, even near Ilvermorny."

They watched as the silver wolf paced around the empty classroom, searching for the threat it was called to deflect. Hermione's Patronus, which had been swimming through the air, darted over to Draco's. The wolf stopped pacing and lowered his head, touching his nose to the otter's before laying on the floor. She settled in front of the wolf, her tiny fore paws atop his muzzle, staring into his eyes.

"I think the wolf is the perfect description of you," Hermione said, leaning into his side.

"Because I'm a werewolf?" he asked.

"Because of what they represent. They're seen as the ancestors of men in some Native American tribes. Wolves represent family, they protect it all costs. They're intelligent, strong, beautiful creatures."

Draco broke into a toothy grin and turned to face Hermione. "Did you just call me beautiful? I won't deny it and you're never wrong, but did you actually say it?"

"You're a prat," she laughed, shoving him playfully.

"No, no, no," he smirked, backing her up against a desk, his tall frame towering over her. "Tell me, I wanna know what makes me beautiful."

"Your eyes," she relented, staring up at them. "They're this storm cloud grey that looks blue in certain light. And I love that you can challenge me academically, like the theory building and the little debate spars."

"You mean like the ones that sometimes end in really fun nights?"

"Especially those," she smiled, turning red. "Oh, and you have a really cute butt."

Draco busted out laughing. "The feeling is mutual."

He leaned down to kiss her when the door to their classroom opened with a sharp creak to reveal Ginny.

"Hey, are you two—" Ginny halted mid-sentence and scoffed. "I thought you came up here to practice charms, not a snog fest."

"It's called multitasking, Gin," Hermione said.

"Yeah, sure," she mocked, rolling her eyes. "Did you master the charm yet?"

"Yup," Draco beamed, nodding proudly to the silver wolf.

"Bloody hell, it's big. Good one, mate."

"Thanks, Gin."

"So why were you looking for us?" Hermione asked.

"McGonagall, she's looking for you," Ginny replied, nodding to Draco.

His brow furrowed. "Me? Did she say why?"

"No, all she said was to report to her office once I found you. 'Ice mice' is the password."

"Okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "Should be interesting."

"Want me to go with you?" Hermione asked.

"No, I'm sure it's nothing serious. Go hang out with Ginny, I've been hogging you to myself all day."

"Alright, see you in a bit," Hermione said, kissing him. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

They collected their things and parted ways in the hall; Hermione and Ginny up to the seventh floor while Draco headed to the Headmaster's Tower. He relayed the password to the griffin sentry and headed up the spiral staircase, knocking on the door.

"Come in."

Draco entered and made his way across the room to McGonagall, who was sat behind her desk writing, her quill scratching away over parchment. "You wanted to see me, Professor?"

McGonagall finally looked up and gave a small nod. "Mr. Malfoy, have a seat, please. I hope you had a good holiday?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, sitting down. "I spent Christmas with Hermione's family and then we celebrated New Years' with my mother."

She nodded. "And how have you been fairing with your condition?"

"As well as I can. Having someone supporting you, someone to lean on, makes a world of difference."

"I'm pleased to see you coping as well as you have. The changes I've seen in you over the last few month are a welcome sight. You're shaping into a fine young man."

Draco's face turned pink. "Thank you, ma'am. But I can't take all of the credit. A lot of it is because of her."

"While I should remain unbiased regarding those in my House, I do hope you never lose sight of what you have in Miss. Granger. I don't want to see any of my cubs hurt. Including you, Draco."

"Hermione will always be my one priority," he said, solemnly.

McGonagall gave a curt nod but Draco could have sworn he saw the faintest hint of a smile.

"Now the reason I asked you here is because of a letter I received," she said, handing him the letter.

The blood running through Draco's veins suddenly turned to ice when he recognized the letter's insignia. "Azkaban?"

McGonagall nodded. "Given the recent climate, and as a safety precaution, any post from Azkaban is automatically sent to this office when it concerns a student. It appears Lucius Malfoy has requested an audience with you, tomorrow, the tenth of January, at your earliest convenience. A Portkey to Azkaban has been enclosed."

"No, I refuse."

"Under normal circumstances, you could decline the request. But since he filed it through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it makes this an official summon."

"And under the terms of my probation, I'm legally obligated to go or face legal consequences," Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know I'm asking a lot here, but could you interfere on my behalf as my Headmistress?"

"I wish that I could, but since you're of age and the acting Head of your Ancestral House, I have no authority."

He nodded, defeated. "I understand. Is there anything else, ma'am?"

"No, that's all," she replied, studying his trouble expression. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help."

He stood up and mustered a grateful smile. "Thank you, Professor. Have a good night."

"Good night, Draco."

With his mind racing, he wandered through the castle on autopilot back to a noisy Gryffindor tower still celebrating its quidditch win over Ravenclaw from the night before.

Hermione, who was lounging in the corner playing Exploding Snap with Ginny, glanced up in time to see Draco's tall frame clamber through the portrait hole. She smiled at the sight of him but it quickly melted away once she saw his glazed over eyes trained on the floor, his brow furrowed. She tossed her cards down and excused herself, making her way over to him.

"Hey," he mumbled.

"What's wrong?"

He gave the boisterous Common Room a quick glance before taking her hand. "Upstairs."

Once up the stairs to their dorm, Hermione locked the door and sat on the foot of the bed, watching Draco with concern as he paced in front of the window.

"Draco, what is it?" Hermione asked, gently.

"I've, er, been summoned to Azkaban."

"What for?" she asked, her stomach twisting.

"My father is requesting a visit."

"Deny it."

"Oh, believe me, I don't want to go," he said. "But I have no choice in the matter. He filed it with the DMLE because he knows the terms of my probation state I have to adhere to any request issued by the department."

Hermione looked confused. "How in the hell was he able to do this? He's in prison for Merlin's sake."

"He worked in the department for a few years so I wouldn't be surprised if he learned some loopholes. Or maybe he's throwing his name around some scared rookie Auror."

"I'm starting to wonder if disbanding the Dementors is a good idea," Hermione sighed quietly.

Draco's brow furrowed. "I thought they were still there."

"They are but only at the very perimeter of the island and only until spring. That's when Kingsley will have enough Aurors graduated to properly staff the prison."

"Lucky I learned that Patronus then," he said dryly, flopping down onto the bed face-first.

Hermione turned and scooted further up the bed, curling into Draco's side where she starting running her fingers through his hair softly. "Hey."

He slowly turned his head from the blanket enough to reveal one eye.

"It sucks, truly. I hate it and I wish I could go in your place because Merlin knows I'd love nothing more than to rip into him for everything he's done, but I know you can do it. Five minutes, in and out, and your done."

He released a big sigh and wrapped an arm over her waist, pulling her close. "I hope your right."

They lay there together for the rest of the night, both falling into a broken sleep which made the night feel both incredibly long and rushed at the same time.

Around five in the morning, Draco gave up trying to salvage anymore sleep and decided to get up. He slowly disentangled himself from under Hermione, careful not to wake her. He wrote her a quick note, placing it on his pillow, and headed downstairs, silently making his way through the castle to the Headmistress's office.

He stood at McGonagall's door, his fist hanging in the air before the door, worried that it might be too early when he heard movement inside. He only had to knock once before he was bade entrance.

"Morning, Professor," he greeted politely. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

"Not at all, I'm always up at this hour," she replied briskly. "Now, how can I help you?"

"You mentioned there was a portkey, is it possible to take it now? I'd like to get this over and done with."

McGonagall nodded. "Of course, it's the cracked telescope on my desk there. You'll have to walk to the apparition point beyond the gates before it will activate. To return, just tap it with your wand twice." She paused for a second studying him. "I hope you've dressed warmly. The North Sea in January is not a forgiving environment."

"I know a few warming spells if needed," he reassured her.

"All right then, off you go and don't stay any longer than you have to."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

Draco wanted nothing more than to waste as much time as possible making his way to the gate but the sooner he got there, the sooner he'd get back. The moment he crossed the border, the portkey began to vibrate in his pocket. He reached for it, the metal frigid against his skin, and felt the hooking sensation in his abdomen lifting him up before slamming him back on his feet a second later.

The snowy picturesque horizon of Hogwarts had ripped away into a desolate, grey wasteland surrounded by raging seas. The island was a long, narrow crag of jagged rock that stretched a quarter kilometer long. The fortress prison, which sat at the opposite edge of the island, reached high into the murky sky past a vast graveyard blanketed in fog. The howling wind whipping at Draco's face was a brutal, biting cold that clung to his clothes and sank deep to the bone.

While he knew the temperature was due to the island's location, it had hints of a darker, supernatural aura due to the Dementors gliding through the air on their patrols. A few stopped, facing him. Draco pocketed the portkey, quickly switching for his wand, and focused on his memories of Hermione. After a few tries, he conjured his Patronus. The silvery Dire Wolf's head darted around, marking the positions of each wraith.

Draco placed his hand on the wolf's shoulder, which had the same sensation of touching the surface of water, and started his trek toward the prison. "Stay close."

Logically, Draco knew the farther he walked from the Dementors, the less he needed his Patronus but he couldn't deny it made him feel safer as he closed in on the prison.

After being greeted by a guard, he was escorted through a few security checkpoints and subjected to a scanning spell of his person before he was given the okay to enter the cell blocks. And even though he understood the need, he still felt naked without his wand after turning it in at the desk.

Draco silently followed a familiar looking guard down a few levels, listening to him drone on about the rules, until they rounded the last corner, placing him face-to-face with his father for the first time in over half a year.

Lucius Malfoy sat atop a hard cot bed in a cell no bigger than a small broom closet. He looked the same as he did at the end of the war; grey pallor, shadowed, cold eyes, and a permanent scowl of disgust and superiority. His once perfect curtain of hair was a greasy, tattered mess that plastered to his head in some spots and stuck out in tufts at others. When he looked up from his folded hands in his lap, he glared at Draco with cold mocking eyes.

"No 'hello' for your old dad?"

Draco remained silent, his eyes trained on Lucius.

"I'm surprised you actually came."

"It's not like I had a choice. Either I show or I risk being in the cell next to you," Draco said coolly. "Now, why exactly am I wasting my Sunday here with you?"

"I need a reason to see my son?"

"Oh, now I'm your son, when you want something. Before I was always just 'boy' to you."

"You still are a boy, still desperate for approval, I see."

"I don't want or need it. You know why? Because the problem was always with you, not me."

Lucius smirked. "Is that so?"

"Your bloody pride inflated your ego so much that if anyone even remotely challenges you, you'd default to flaunting the Malfoy name or boasting about your wealth and connections. The warped reality in your head of what being a Pureblood should be is on a level that no one can achieve, no matter how much you try to beat it into them. No one is perfect."

"Well, that was quite the speech, but I well aware of that now. I knew it was a waste of time after you failed your task for the Dark Lord. I had come to accept your grades slipping even farther behind, but I never thought a Malfoy would be surpassed by a blood traitor like Longbottom."

"At least Longbottom had the balls to actually stand up to Voldemort. All you ever did was cower at his side like a whipped lapdog."

"Careful who you call a dog, Draco," Lucius sneered. "But I guess that should be expected from someone that's constantly bested by a Mudblood."

Draco's eyes flashed dangerously as his hand clenched into a fist, desperately wishing he had his wand. "Don't you ever call her that again."

Lucius's eyebrows rose. "That certainly struck a nerve, you seem to care about the girl now."

"Her name is Hermione Jean Granger and you will not speak ill of her."

"With that amount of devotion, I'd think you were in love with this girl."

"I am," Draco said, proudly.

"Such a disappointment."

"Says the man sitting in a prison cell," Draco scoffed. "I'll admit, I thought for a second, just one second, you had had a change of heart. Maybe you'd apologize for making life a living hell for Mum and I, but this was just another chance for you to ridicule me and a giant waste of time. Good-bye, father."

Draco turned to the guard and asked to be escorted out. He silently followed, doing his best to keep his frustration in check as the taunting voice of his father echoed down the hall along with his footsteps. He quickly collected his wand at the reception desk and walked as fast as he could out of the prison to the portkey point. He finally vented his anger into the deafening roar of the surf until his throat felt raw.

With his chest heaving and his face wet, he finally reined his emotions in and tapped the portkey twice, transporting back to Hogwarts. He trudged is way up the snowy path to the castle, his mind on one thing; Hermione.

Draco was on the landing of the second flight of stairs when a familiar voice called out. "Draco."

He stopped but kept his eyes trained at Ginny's feet. "Yeah."

"Hermione told me where you had to go. Dementor-ridden or not, that place is rough. You okay?"

"I'm fine."

Ginny merely nodded. She was all too familiar with the response and its true meaning after hearing Harry say it so often but knew better than to push it. "Alright then."

"Gin, do you know wh—"

"She's in the Common Room."

"Thanks."

"Sure thing, mate," she said quietly, patting his shoulder.

The Common Room was quiet when he entered. There were a few Gryffindors scattered about but the only one he cared about was sitting on the couch, wringing her hands as she stared into the fireplace, too preoccupied to notice when he came to stand at her side.

"Hey," he said, quietly.

Hermione jumped, shooting up from her spot and latched onto him in a bear hug. He leaned into her embrace, burying his face in her hair. When she finally pulled back, she took his face in her hands gently, running her thumbs under his eyes.

"You okay?" she asked softly. "Your eyes are red."

"Yeah, just emotionally drained."

She nodded sadly. "Want to head down to the kitchen and see if we can raid the chocolate stash? I know from experience that it helps."

"Later, maybe," he said, cracking a tiny smile. "Actually, could we just sit here for a bit?"

"Yeah, of course."

Draco wedged himself against the arm of the couch while Hermione leaned into his side, taking his hand in hers, squeezing it. He stared down at their joined hands and released a long, shuddering breath, prompting Hermione to crawl into his lap and wrap her arms around his neck. He hugged her back tight.

"Thank you, love," he mumbled against her shoulder.

"Always."