Chapter 11-Contemplating the Future

The darkness of Greenstone Manor's formal dining area did not dispel the happiness in Rodolphus Lestrange's heart. The lanky former Death Eater had done something that not even the Dark Lord had managed to accomplish.

Neutralize Harry Potter.

The fact that it hadn't gone strictly to plan did not deter the celebratory mood the eldest Lestrange was in at the moment. Rodolphus knew that the effect of Potter's incarceration would've been much more extreme if Potter was pondering causing the death of his one time girlfriend, Ginny Weasley. However, the death of her brother would have to suffice. The result was far better than Rodolphus could have ever hoped.

Twenty years in Azkaban!

Not that he would live long enough to spend that much time in the hell hole.

Rodolphus looked around the room at the faces in front of him. He noticed that Nott's face was cautiously impassive. To his right, Crabbe had a look that was bordering on impatience and exasperation. Rodolphus grimaced at the man's lack of control. The others around the table had looks of giddy excitement or, at least relief, with the possible exception of Selwyn.

The hooded cloak and guarded eyes of the man hid all emotion from Rodolphus. It was a quality that irked Lestrange slightly. The annoyance lightened as Rodolphus thought of what will have to happen later tonight. He was even able to grin politely at his hooded killer as he contemplated with some sadness what Selwyn's fate would ultimately be. He shook the image from his mind as he raised his hands to try to gain the attention of the men in front of him.

The noise level dropped as each face looked upon the creator of the plan that got Potter. Rodolphus waited a moment longer as the silence took hold of the Greenstone dining room. Then, with a large smile on his face he threw down on the dining table a copy of the Daily Prophet headline from the morning.

Boy Who Conquered, Convicted!

In a Fit of Anger, Potter Murders Best Friend's Brother!

Rodolphus allowed a bit of cheerful celebration before he asked for silence again. Then, began to speak.

"Friends, we have accomplished our first goal. We have done what others have failed to do. The beginning of the end of this idiotic Mudblood-led rebellion is at hand." Affirming nods mimicked up and down the long green table. "Now, we begin the next part of the plan."

"The death of Potter!"

Crabbe's interruption annoyed Lestrange. Damn, he hated interruptions. He glared at the fat man and with a great deal of control replied, "No. We are still but a small force. Killing Potter would only alert those fools in the Ministry of our existence. The power we possess at this time cannot endure much attention."

"We have Potter in chains! Helpless! Why can't we finish him?" Crabbe raged.

It was Nott that spoke this time, "Use your head, Crabbe! We don't have enough people here to launch a proper raid, much less an attack of Azkaban."

"Precisely, Nott," Rodolphus smoothly regained control of the conversation. He paced around the table as he looked to be in thought. Inside he reveled in the route the discussion was taking, after a bit, he leaned against the back of the chair his brother was in. A subtle gesture that showed Lestrange solidarity. "We need to gain allies."

"How do we do that and remain in the shadows?" Mulciber asked.

"Through Goyle and Nott." Rabastan said quickly. At the look of confusion on the Goyle's face, Rabastan clarified. "Actually, through your children. Your son and Nott's boy are still in school, correct?" After a quick nod of confirmation from each, the younger Lestrange continued, "Both of them are in a prime location to survey and bring forth sympathetic Slytherins to our cause."

Rodolphus chuckled at his brother. Both at the idea of using a moron like Goyle's son and the necessary evil of having to depend on such a weak link. The brothers had talked long and hard to find ways around this, but realized that there was not a better solution. Young Gregory Goyle was needed. Of course, hopefully Nott's boy, Theodore would be there to save the situation if there were mistakes.

"Do you think that your boys can do what we ask?" Rodolphus queried looking at Goyle and Nott.

Nott immediately bowed his head once. Goyle thought for a moment, before nodding curtly. With a smile, Rodolphus gave his thanks. As an afterthought the eldest Lestrange asked quietly to Goyle, "Is Gregory a friend still of Draco Malfoy?"

Goyle looked angered as he said, "We have not spoken with nor wish to speak with the Malfoys. When we see them next, they will die."

Rodolphus almost rolled his eyes at Goyle trying to talk tough. But, at least the attitude was one that he had hoped for. The lanky former Death Eater stated to the eldest Goyle, "I may wish your son to make contact with the young Malfoy." His eyes almost sparkled with malevolence as mentioned, "You might call the meeting as a way for Gregory to pay his last respects to young Draco."

Goyle looked confused, but shrugged as Rodolphus went on, "Another vital task is to find a way to meet with Fenrir Greyback." A couple of snorts echoed in the hall at the idea of the werewolf joining them. Rodolphus looked put out, "I realize that he is not a proper wizard, but I have to admit I am a bit of a fan of his recent undertakings. His work with the Creeveys and the Browns was a homicidal work of art. He could make a fearsome ally, regardless of our reservations on his condition."

He stared at the hooded Selwyn. "You of everyone was the closest to Greyback in this room, will you see if he would be swayed to join us?"

Selwyn with a hiss said, "Greyback trusts nobody, I don't see how I could persuade him."

"All I ask is you try," Rodolphus said kindly.

"Where would I look?"

"After the meeting, we'll retire to my room and I'll give you the latest information I have on where he is."

Rabastan joked, "Do try to at least to make sure you talk to the right Greyback."

Selwyn turned to the Rabastan, "What do you mean by that Lestrange?" He softly said with a hint of anger.

Rabastan smirked, "Well the last time we sent you after a specific person, you killed not only the wrong person but the wrong gender. Alas, I suppose we have our dear old Hogwarts to blame for not teaching poor Selwyn here anatomy instead of astronomy." He said with mock sadness.

Selwyn stiffened as the laughter of the others echoed.

Rodolphus shot Rabastan a warning look as he said, "Selwyn, don't mind my brother, we have important matters to discuss." With a look to the others who were still chuckling, "If that is all, we will meet again in four days. Remember, stay out of sight and out of mind." He favored Goyle and Nott a look each as he said, "Please bring your boys when we return, we have much to discuss."

The lanky man motioned for Selwyn to follow as they left the dining room. The quick trip to Rodolphus' bedroom was made in silence as Rodolphus stepped aside to allow Selwyn to enter the room first. The hooded Death Eater did not notice Lestrange take out his wand as he passed. As the door shut, Selwyn was surprised to hear a spell muttered very softly.

"Expelliarmus!"

Selwyn's wand shot from its holster into the waiting hands of Rodolphus as Lestrange favored a predatory glance at the unarmed man. He then cast two more spells in quick succession.

"Muffiato"

"Incarcerous!"

Soon Selwyn found himself on the floor tied up and helpless. His hood fell off of his face as he looked up in a mixture of rage and shock. "What are you doing?" He almost shouted.

Rodolphus walked over to a chair and sat down as he regarded his prisoner. It was seriously the first time he had ever saw Selwyn's face. The dark blue eyes that sat high on the thin, hatchet face stared out at him in ill disguised animosity. Rodolphus noticed, with his limited legilimency that the man was not at all fearful, just irate.

Interesting.

"My dear Selwyn, I have decided that your services are no longer required."

Selwyn asked calmly, "What about Greyback?"

The ever present grin of Rodolphus was there when he said, "I am a fan, but I'd rather he be out there causing havoc and taking the attention away from the rest of us." The smile grew as he said, "The rest of us that will be alive after tonight that is."

"You slimy, toad loving..."

With a quick silencing spell, Lestrange cut off the rest of the sentence. He then leaned back while still observing his victim. "I know that your confused, but that is no reason for rudeness. Besides, Selwyn, don't worry, I'll alleviate your concerns momentarily." He looked down at his wand and casually wiped down a spot as he spoke, "I assume you have heard of the Elder Wand?"

Selwyn glared in confusion. Rodolphus sighed in exasperation. "I know you can't say anything you can nod or shake your head for Morgana's sake. So, again, have you heard of the Elder Wand?"

Selwyn nodded reluctantly.

"The Wand of Destiny...The Deathstick...all of those cute little names. But, simply it is the unbeatable wand. Did you know that Potter was the possessor of it?"

The confusion lifted from Selwyn slightly. But, it didn't add up. The tales he had heard suggested to own the wand you had to kill the previous owner.

Rodolphus, reading his victim's thoughts mentioned,"I know, you're thinking that Potter would not have the stomach to kill, but it turns out you only have to disarm the owner to become the Master of the Elder Wand. I had a long chat with our Imperiused Weasley. He confirmed that Dumbledore owned its allegiance before Draco Malfoy disarmed him in the tower."

Selwyn was pretty sure he didn't like where this was headed.

"Then, you may have heard, Draco was disarmed by Potter. Can you guess who owned the Elder Wand next?"

Selwyn's eyes flashed a storm of emotions as Rodolphus chuckled.

"Yes, you are correct. You were the Master of the Elder Wand." He smiled as he held out Selwyn's captured wand. "Well, you were until about a minute ago." His smile seemed to hold some regret as he continued speaking almost like he was talking to himself.

"Unfortunately, I had to act now knowing your talents for trouble making. Even though I cannot receive my destiny until our little group is more powerful, what would have happened if you lost a duel before it was time for me to get the wand?" He sighed. "It's too bad, Selwyn. I like you. You would've been a great asset to the cause of Slytherin. But, you do understand that I cannot let you live, correct?"

Rodolphus eyebrow rose as he pondered the condemned man. Still, no fear. Damn, such a waste.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Selwyn's body, still bound by magical rope, slumped to the floor. Taking a page from Barty Crouch, Jr., Rodolphus transfigured the corpse into a bone.

A bone that would eventually end up somewhere in the middle of the British Channel.

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This was certainly not Sirius Black's Azkaban.

Well, some of the amenities remained the same according to Sirius' description. A hard, uneven stone floor ran throughout the living quarters. The roof still was made from an almost black, rock substance and was not horribly tall. Even with Harry's slightly smaller than six foot height, it was pretty much a constant headache for Voldemort's victor whenever he stood up without thought. The bed also was exactly the same as well; in that it did not exist. The worst continued Azkaban tradition, in Harry's opinion, had to be the dingy, drab decor of the prison. Light never showed and therefore the passing of the day never registered to the inhabitants.

It gave the impression of time standing still.

The changes though were rather noticeable. Gone were the dementors; the soul sucking wraiths that plagued every man and woman that visited or lived on Azkaban Island. Not that this was now a vacation spot, but at least Harry did not have to replay his mum's last moments on earth daily.

Besides, he had plenty other brand new hits for his own private library of horrors.

Also, as the auror that brought him in mentioned, he was a celebrity. They were not going to put him around the Death Eaters that were wiling away eternity. Fortunately, he was not going to hear their screams and pleas for mercy. That their nightmares would not echo in his head.

Which was fine, because his own nightmares were bad enough.

The problem was that Harry rarely would have contact with humans. If the past week was any indication, the guards of Azkaban's behavior would indicate that there would no human interaction and very little human observation for the remainder of his time here.

Harry found that to be very troubling.

At first, Harry really didn't want to face anyone. Shame at his actions, even though they were obviously not his own, radiated through him like a shock wave almost randomly. But, he needed someone to talk to him. No one, other than Kingsley Shacklebolt, had visited him.

Not that Harry could truly blame them. I mean really, who would visit him?

Ginny? Just her name caused his heart to clinch up in mid beat. Could she really forget that his body cursed her brother to the grave? That he cast death in her direction? He sadly had to admit that he probably would never see her face again, even if he survived the next twenty years. Of course, the memory of her face would be what he thought of each time he slept, as a last image before the night terrors took hold.

Ron? His face as George attacked Harry, told the incarcerated hero everything he needed to know. He had looked on in interest and, seemingly, with satisfaction on the beating Harry was receiving. Harry wondered at the time why, but as Charlie's fate was revealed, it made sense.

With misery, he felt he could pretty much add the rest of the Weasleys in with Ginny and Ron. The same reasons applied to them even more, as they had less of a relationship with Harry. Sure they were family, but, not really. Harry knew that when it came down to it, blood always won out.

That's part of the reason he had always felt alone. He was the last Potter.

Hermione? Surely she wouldn't throw away their friendship. After all they had been through, she had to know his heart. Harry sighed as he why she hadn't come. She probably was researching horcruxes and comforting Ron. He had lost his brother after all.

And you killed him.

He took his glasses off as her rubbed his nose. His train of thought kept running in the same circles.

He didn't even have the Dursleys anymore. He felt relieved when Minister Shacklebolt had told him that Teddy and Mrs. Tonks were fine. The relief did fade when he found that the Dursleys, with the exception of Dudley, had died by magical means. The attacks found on the Dursleys matched his wand, but, there would be no time added for circumstantial evidence.

The agreement for twenty years would remain.

The sick, twisted thing is that he actually spent two months seeking solitude. Now, it was mandated by the Ministry that Harry Potter will get some serious alone time. Forget two months, try twenty years on for size. The irony of the situation did not elude Harry Potter.

As the newest prisoner of Azkaban remained in a seated position, leaning against an inside wall, he stared at the last obvious change to the cells of his new home. The typical bars, a sign of pretty much every detention facility in the world, were replaced. Seemingly by nothing, however the aurors that brought him in warned him of the 'invisible' door. It was a type of ward called the tormenta arma, or shield of torture. They warned him that to touch the space would cause a type of pain similar to the cruciates curse. He 'kindly' told of a prisoner who had tried to walk through the shield.

He died a rather painful death.

Harry grimaced, as he thought of how that wouldn't be the easiest death in the world. But, the horcrux would for sure be destroyed, he thought rebelliously. He shook his head to get the idea out of his head. It had only been a week since he promised Shacklebolt that he wouldn't take the easy way out and right now the only thing he had left was his word.

So, for the moment, Harry would sit, until time ended or someone graciously allowed him to walk out of this pit. He wondered off hand which would actually drive him insane the quickest, the boredom or his past catching up with him at night. Harry turned and looked behind him at the stone wall. He saw some scratches here and there and he had an idea.

Maybe I can stay sane by facing my demons, he reasoned.

The only thing was he needed a small stone. He closed his eyes as he dismissed the thought soon after processing it. Harry knew that the guards would have taken every thing out of the cell, including unused rocks. He never knew that a stone laying across the room from him fit his requirements. Harry never noticed as it flew towards him. He never even heard it as it landed softly by his right hand on the stone. Within a couple of minutes, he moved his right hand and felt the rough surface of the stone.

A look of surprise filled his face as Harry grasped the stone. Then he turned towards the wall and inscribed three letters on the back wall of his cell.

RIP

Then he sat and thought. Who should be first? After a moment he added two sets of initials.

JP + LP

The rock clattered to the floor as he looked upon his crude memorial. It's fitting, he thought, it all started with their sacrifice outside of this abyss. He leaned back against the wall and spent the day thinking about his parents, James and Lily Potter.

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Charlie's funeral had been two weeks ago and the Burrow was still in a state of emotional trauma. Hermione, after the big blow up the night of Charlie's death, had tried to avoid George and Bill during her time at the Weasley home. Hermione could have sworn that she heard the word, "Traitor," muttered by Bill as he gazed upon her. Despite the frosty attitude of some of the family, she wanted to be there for her best friend and current boyfriend, Ron. However, the Burrow wasn't the same loving place.

The place had a pall over it that was almost visible.

Hermione had visited every day, sometimes staying the night in the twins' old room. Her usual sleeping arrangement was changed as she found that Ginny demanded total privacy. Ginny's presence in the Burrow was almost non existent. She lived there, ate, but never contributed in conversations with the family much less Hermione. She floated in and out of rooms without acknowledging anyone. The horrific state of the Weasleys' psyche was evidence as no one really questioned her.

Hermione was worried, though and had mentioned it several times to Ron. But even he had no idea how to approach her. In fact, he had tried several times only to find a stony silence and a bat bogey waiting on him. The couple decided to let her come to them in her own way.

Arthur and Molly Weasley also showed ill effects to the summer happenings.

Arthur took to spending more and more time at work. Minister Shacklebolt had leaned on the Weasley patriarch in a major way in hopes of rebuilding the infrastructure of the Ministry. For the first and only time in his life, Arthur had placed work over family. Hermione sensed it was from a guilt induced rationale that if he couldn't protect his family, maybe he could do something for the wizarding world. She had noticed from the few family dinners she attended that Arthur had a hard time looking his daughter in the eyes. In fact, he spent much of the dinners glancing at places where Fred or Charlie would be sitting.

Molly, for her part, seemed to be broken. She stayed in bed longer in the morning and roamed the house like a specter; never speaking unless spoken to. Hermione, on more than one occasion had walked in on Molly crying softly in the kitchen during the night. Once she had tried to speak to her, but Molly quietly apologized for her fatigue and then whisked off to bed.

Ron, from the outside, seemed to be holding up a little better. But, Hermione knew that he was trying to be strong for her. She noticed the moments where he rose quickly to anger over trivial instances, then feel large amounts of remorse later. The rage was there, but he had tried to keep it bottled up . Hermione knew that at some point it was going to overflow and she hoped she could help him when it did.

Hermione also had another project in addition to trying to be there for the Weasleys. In other words, finding any way to help one Harry Potter. She had not found any books that regarded horcruxes in any more detail than the ones she had brought on the hunt. She hoped in a few of weeks, when she returned to Hogwarts, she would find something that would help her case. Mainly, how can a horcrux be taken out of a living organism without causing death. She had already researched her other books, but could find no definite solution to that dilemma.

Of course she also knew that there was another issue that would arise if the horcrux in Harry truly had been destroyed. Mainly, the matter of how his alleged murder could be explained as he was in an area that only he and a few others could be in. Not to mention that it occurred in front of four very credible witnesses. But, she would cross that bridge when she got there. Her main concern was to take away the fear that Harry would be possessed by a horcrux for the rest of his life and therefore be unsafe to society.

The one book, which she was reading currently, dealt with Harry's new home. She had picked up Azkaban: An Account from Flourish and Blotts last week. While Ron had decided to take a trip to visit George this afternoon, Hermione took the opportunity to find her favorite reading place at the Burrow, a tree overlooking the pond.

She never knew she was being watched.

As engrossed as she was in her subject, Hermione failed to notice the quiet footsteps making their way to her position behind a tree. Her first hint of company didn't register until a hand grabbed her shoulder.

"Wha-...Ginny?"

A ghost of a smile shown on the face of the redhead as she noticed her bookworm of a friend trying to hide the title of the book. Unbidden, Ginny sat down facing the pond as Hermione continued to get her breath back after the fright. Soon she sat down beside Ginny. Both girls staring out at the pond in front of them; the tension filling the air. Hermione wanted to ask her all sorts of questions, but decided to heed her boyfriend's advice and let Ginny start.

"I'm sorry I haven't been much company, Hermione."

The dull voice from the redhead was common for her lately whenever she had deemed to speak. The actual starting of a conversation was not so common. Hermione decided to ease into the discussion at the pace her friend was setting.

"It's not like you haven't had a good reason."

Ginny looked out at the pond and abruptly observed, "Have you ever wondered why two gorgeous, intelligent ladies such as ourselves are stuck in love with a convicted murderer and Ron."

Hermione, at that pronouncement, gaped fish-like at her red headed friend.

Ginny for her part, faked a very large sigh, "I think I feel more sorry for you, Hermione."

The weirdness of this talk threw Hermione quite a bit. The steady stare Ginny gave her pause. For the past three weeks, this girl had been in a self induced isolation. Then, out of the blue, she throws out this...inappropriate...and...very Ginny-like comment. Hermione couldn't help herself, she started laughing for what felt like the first time in months. After a moment, Ginny joined her. The two friends laughed for minutes at the silliness, the sadness, and the sickness of the situation they found themselves in.

Ginny regained her composure first and said shakily, "I mean after all, Harry will get out someday, but my brother will always be a ginormous prat!"

This started a new wave of laughter as the two girls began to roll around on the grass. Muscles not used in at least several weeks got a workout as the laughter echoed across the pond.

Eventually, the laughter slowed to a stop and the seriousness of their lives began to infiltrate their mirth and the mood grew more somber. Finally, Ginny asked Hermione, "So, what've you been up to?"

Hermione looked away and said, "Oh, you know trying to be there for Ron, studying for my NEWT year...that sort of thing."

She noticed a fiery look on her companion's eyes, "That better not be all you've been doing, Hermione Granger."

A look of contrition filled Hermione's eyes as she replied, "I wasn't sure if it would be proper to...you know."

"Help get Harry out of Azkaban?"

Hermione finally looked at Ginny as she nodded and added, "I mean after..." She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Charlie?"

Again, Hermione nodded her head.

Ginny looked out in the distance, not really seeing anything. The water rippling by the faint breeze, the distant sounds of the birds, even the bugs flying around the pond were unseen as she thought about what she needed to say.

"You know, Hermione, I wish I could say I didn't see it all happen. Merlin, I wish that I could obliviate the memory of that day out of my brain. The look on Harry's face...Charlie falling...the sound of the curse as it went over my head." There were tears on the youngest Weasleys face, but she refused to give into it. A determination showed in her face as she continued now looking at her friend. "But, I can't. I don't know what will happen in the future. I know it's likely that my hopes of a life with Harry isn't going to happen; mainly because those images I can't get out of my head.

But, damn it, he doesn't deserve this any more than I did in my first year!"

"You didn't deserve Azkaban, Ginny. I'm so sorry that I even mentioned it to your Dad. I was just mad and hurt and I needed somebody to be on my side."

Ginny grabbed Hermione's hands as she said earnestly, "I'm on your side in this. Don't think for a minute I'm not. Just because what I saw what think my life should've been die on my front lawn, doesn't mean that I am going to abandon Harry."

Hermione asked quietly, "What about your family?"

The question gave Ginny pause, then she responded, "If you wonder whether or not they'll help us, I would imagine they won't. At least not for now. Fred was a surprise, but this was a shock.

"After all he's done for the family?"

Ginny stared at Hermione. Hermione flinched the look as she felt she might have crossed a line. Ginny looked away and then said, "Yes, he's done a bunch for the family. Don't think for one minute that Mum or Dad have forgotten it either. But, watching him kill...watching Charlie die was ...well, terrifying. I know I never felt more helpless in my life. I can't imagine as parents what that must feel like. As a sister, it was horrific."

After a moment, Ginny glanced back at Hermione and related, "If I were you, I wouldn't mention to George about what Harry has done for him. He will blow a gasket and scream how money doesn't compare to his brothers not walking around."

"Oh." Hermione realized that was close. She knew that she needed to continue to think before speaking or risk the loss of the trust this family had in her. If Hermione was going to make a difference, she had to play both sides as it were. She hated this spot, in the middle between Ron and his family against her best friend, Harry. As an honest person, she hated sneaking around to find evidence to help Harry. But, Hermione swore, she would be woman enough to keep both Ron and Harry in her life. At least, she felt, she had Ginny.

"So, Hermione, what have you found out?"

Hermione gave Ginny a look at the book, Azkaban: An Account, before she went on about her findings and strategy. Ginny nodded absently about Hermione thinking the first step was to prove the horcrux was out of the body and then move to proving something else caused the action.

"Hermione, Do you really think the horcrux is gone?"

Hermione nodded, but added, "I don't know anything for sure, but Dumbledore believed it and when in doubt, I've found always assume Dumbledore is right."

"Then why would he kill Charlie?"

Hermione looked at her friend with compassion as she said, "I don't know. There has to be something that happened that caused it. Harry obviously wouldn't kill Charlie, or anyone if he were in his right mind."

"My question has always been, why send Harry to jail when he was possessed just like me? Can't we use that as a way to get him out of prison? I mean it is like an imperious curse?"

Hermione sighed. "To be honest, I talked to the Minister the next day." She glanced over at Ginny guiltily, as she added, "Actually, he talked, I yelled. I brought that point up specifically. He told me that if the Wizengamot suspected that Harry had a horcrux in his body. They would order his death to make sure the horcrux was destroyed with regrets.

"So, Minsiter Shacklebolt decided that convincing Harry to plead guilty at the reduced sentence would buy some time."

"Yeah, twenty bleeding years worth of time," Ginny muttered.

"I know he was putting me off with the excuse. There isn't a doubt in my mind that he believes Harry is a dangerous unknown and that the horcrux is still inside him."

"No doubt, do you remember the looks him and Bill were giving?"

Hermione nodded. Ginny thumbed through the Azkaban book and asked, "Has this helped?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. All it's done is prove that Mr. Weasley was telling the truth that I can only visit Christmas Day. 'Family may visit once a month, but all others may visit only Christmas Day' according to Azkaban rules. That means the only visitor he can have until then is Dudley Dursely."

"Like he would go."

"Especially now."

Hermione went on as she said, "I asked for an exception, but was told, again, with regrets that there were no exceptions."

"Figures," Ginny commented.

"The only thing that it has told me of any use is the current treatment of inmates in Azkaban. It's...well...it's..." Hermione was lost for words.

Ginny nodded as she understood what her friend couldn't say.

After a moment of silence, Ginny asked, "Can I borrow this when you're done? I want to know what Harry is going through in that place."

Hermione acquiesced and promised to give it to her within the week. As the two girls stood up to go back in, Hermione mentioned, "At least the Dementors are gone."

Ginny raised her eyebrow at her friend and claimed, "Sure, but Harry doesn't need Dementors to remember every rotten thing that's happened in his life, Hermione."

Hermione really wished that Ginny wasn't right.