"Why am I coming with you?" Draco asked as they began to move quickly down the hall. "I haven't seen my father in years."

"You're the only person he'll talk to," Harry replied with a shrug. "He'll never tell me anything but the minute you mentioned being with Hermione, if he doesn't already know, he'll hopefully flip out and tell us something."

"So I'm bait?" Draco said.

"Yes," Harry told him with a grin, stopping in front of the lift. "Yes you are."

The lift doors opened and they nearly plowed straight through Blaise who went to step out of the lift as they went to step in.

"Woah," Blaise said, dropping something and Harry moved to pick it up.

"An apple?" Draco asked, amused. "Since when do you eat fruit?"

"Bugger off," Blaise replied. "Where are you two headed? Together?"

"Azkaban," Harry replied, stepping into the lift as Blaise stepped off.

"What's he done this time?" Blaise asked, exasperated. "Honestly, you have to stop trying to put Draco back in Azkaban."

"I'm not putting him IN Azkaban," Harry told him, as Draco stepped into the lift next to him. "He's going with me to Azkaban."

"Voluntarily?" Blaise asked suspiciously, looking to Draco for confirmation.

"Yes," Draco replied. "Now if you'll excuse us, we have to go."

Blaise stepped out of the way of the doors of the lift and it swept Harry and Draco away to the main floor of the Ministry. From there, they took two flights of stairs down to what appeared to a dock. Draco had been here not four months ago, he realized, when they'd first brought him back to the wizarding world a "changed man." Now he actually was and he was on his way back. Harry voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"The portkey will leave in 30 seconds," Harry told him, holding out a Hufflepuff tie. "Grab hold."

"Nice choice of portkey," Draco said, an eyebrow raised.

"It was a bit last minute," Harry replied with a shrug. "Apparently all Justin had handy was this."

Before Draco could respond he felt the strong tug of the portkey and, a minute later, they landed at the gates of Azkaban. Harry tucked the tie into the pocket of his auror robes and quickly strode toward the gate. Draco followed with much less haste. A chill ran through him. The dementors were long gone, the prison now guarded by trained wizards, but the soul-sucking feeling never truly left. Harry spoke briefly to the guard then gestured for Draco to follow.

"You're going to get-" Harry began but was cut off by a loud rush of water dropping on top of their heads. "Wet." he finished.

Draco sputtered water out of his mouth and tried to clear his eyes. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Washes away enchantments," Harry told him. "Come this way, we dry off over here."

They stepped forward into a small room where, a minute later, they found themselves completely dry, as if they'd never been wet.

"Malfoy, some rules," Harry said, stopping at the door to exit the room.

"You Gryffindors and your rules," he grumbled. "What is it?"

"You cannot touch your father," Harry told him. "You must remain on the opposite side of the table at all times."

"Understood," Draco acknowledged. "Anything else?"

"You know how Azkaban works," Harry continued. "We can see into the cells but you can't see out. Don't speak to anyone. Don't even look at them honestly. Just...don't do anything stupid. Hermione would really be pissed if I had to put you back here."

"I'm not an idiot," Draco pointed out. "You lot seem to forget that a lot."

"Are we clear?" Harry asked, ignoring his comment.

"Yeah, yeah, we're clear," Draco replied. "Let's get this over with."

Harry opened the door and they stepped into the main corridor. They walked in silence as Draco did his best not to look around him but he found he couldn't help himself, he knew most of them afterall. They turned right and continued down another corridor. They were nearing the cell that used to be his, he realized, and he glanced at Harry to see if the choice of route had been deliberate but Harry's face showed no sign of recognition. Sure enough, they made a left and Draco found himself stopped in front of his old cell. It was exactly as he remembered. Small, uncomfortable, constricting. He stared at it, trying to remember why he'd ever thought the Dark Lord's views were worth the time here.

"Move," Harry said quietly. "We have a time limit."

Draco nodded and tore his eyes away from the cell and forced himself to turn his back to it. He thought of Hermione, her smile, her hand in his, and suddenly walking away was easy. He caught up to Harry and after another two right turns, they found themselves at a door.

"Your father is on the other side of this door," Harry said, looking at Draco. "Are you ready?"

Draco could almost feel Hermione's hand squeezing his. "Yes," he replied, a determined look on his face. "I'm ready."

Without waiting another second, Harry threw open the door and strolled into the room. Draco took a breath and followed.

"Mr. Malfoy, I can't tell you how great it is to see in you in shackles," Harry said, sitting down at the table across from Lucius. Draco took the empty seat to his left and stared at his father. He'd changed, Draco noticed. Physically at least. He looked thinner, his eyes hollow, his lips curled in a sneer.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company Mr. Potter?" Lucius asked, clasping his fingers together, staring at Draco rather than Harry. "And why have you brought my dear 'reformed' son with you?"

"We thought seeing his father in jail would help reform him," Harry said, nonchalantly. "He hasn't been...adjusting well."

"Fuck you Potter," Draco replied. "I'm following your hug a hufflepuff shit."

Lucius looked pleased by Draco's response. Thank goodness he caught on, Harry thought gratefully.

"Anyway," Harry continued. "You've been writing letters to your wife." Harry watched as a flicker passed over Lucius' face. "Lovely that she still writes to her Death Eater husband."

"A wife should always be loyal," Lucius said tersely. "Narcissa knows that."

"I'm especially interested in the summer home in Galway that you talk about," Harry told him. "Particularly because it doesn't exist."

"Galway?" Lucius said, pretending to think. "Draco is that where our summer home is?"

"No father," Draco replied. "Our summer home is in Bordeaux."

"How forgetful of me!" Lucius said with a small, fake laugh. "I must have mixed up locations. Poor Narcissa must have been so confused! That's hardly a reason though for you to come and question me. Mixing up where my summer home is located isn't a crime, is it Mr. Potter?"

"Enough of this," Harry said calmly. "Narcissa Malfoy has not written to you once since you were incarcerated. The letters you receive were compared to a journal of hers that we obtained, the handwriting is close but not a match. Who have you been corresponding with?"

"Mr. Potter, I assure you I have no idea, what you're talking about!" Lucius replied, feigning surprise though his lip curled in disgust. "I have been sending and receiving letters from my wife!"

It was in that moment that Draco realized he'd been holding on to some sliver of hope that his father wasn't involved with Hermione's abduction but with that response, Draco realized his father was anything but innocent.

"I'm bored," Draco drawled, sounding, to Harry, eerily like the boy from their years at Hogwarts. "My father wrote my mother, my mother wrote my father, this is all very enlightening Potter, I feel better already."

Lucius practically preened with pride. "You can't change a Malfoy," he said to Harry. "We're...resilient."

Just then Harry seemed to feel something in his pocket, he pulled out his coin, squinted at it, then rose from the table. "Excuse me a moment," he said and looked at Draco, then Lucius. "Don't speak to each other."

Harry gave Draco one last look and then walked out of the room. He then went around to the window that was enchanted so that he could hear and see everything. "This is your chance, Malfoy" he said under his breath. "Don't blow this."

Inside the room, Lucius had already begun to whisper to Draco. "Where are they keeping you?" he was asking.

"The Manor," Draco whispered in response, looking around, pretending to make sure no one was listening.

"So you're having trouble adjusting?" Lucius asked with a slow grin. "You were always a slow learner."

Draco fought the urge to flinch at his father's words. "You want me to learn the shit they're teaching me?" he asked, sounding amused. "Why father, has prison changed you too?"

Lucius howled with laughter as his response. "Never," he said, his face suddenly becoming very serious. "That Mudblood always did better than you when you were in school."

At the mention of Hermione, Draco felt his heart squeeze. "Yes," he said, mildly. "You always mentioned that."

"Is that why you've decided to start fucking her?" Lucius asked nastily and Draco was unable to contain his surprise.

"Oh yes, I know," Lucius sneered. "Sticking your cock into the little Mudblood whore?"

His father knew, he thought dully. That's why this had all begun. Because of him. Pushing aside the...guilt? Was this guilt? Pushing whatever it was aside, he tried for his most feral grin. "Haven't you ever heard of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer?"

Lucius looked surprised himself, then suspicious. "You're not fucking the Mudblood?"

Draco could feel his stomach turn every time he heard the word and decided to use that to his advantage. "Father please, I just ate," he said, sounding, he hoped, as ill as he felt. "I've made her fall in love with me, let her think that she's changed me." Draco paused for effect. "I'm going to rip out her heart."

The nasty grin returned to Lucius' face. "I should have known that fool Flint didn't have any idea what he was talking about," he said shaking his head. "As if my son would ever become a blood traitor?"

"Flint?" Draco asked, maintaining a cool composure even though his heart had begun to race. "Marcus Flint? The bloke a few years ahead of me in school?"

Lucius realized he'd allowed the name to slip but nodded in response. "His father's dying request was I keep an eye on the boy," Lucius said. "We have to take care of our own Draco. It's what the Dark Lord would have wanted."

"I thought Flint was dead," Draco replied lazily. "Where is he?"

"Galway," Lucius told him with a toothy grin. "Summer vacation. Had him a friend."

Draco snorted at his father's response. "That git could never make a friend."

"Didn't you notice your Mudblood toy was missing?" Lucius asked. "He should have it by now."

"I never really took care of my toys, did I father?" Draco sneered, thinking fast. "Though I will be angry if he ruins her."

"He'll only kill her if she tries to escape," Lucius said nonchalantly. "We've been planning this since the war ended. Of the Golden Trio, Potter's Mudblood was the easiest to get a hold of so unfortunately your fun will have to end soon."

Draco felt his stomach turn but forced a nasty grin on to his face and he leaned forward. "Since the war ended?" he asked conspiratorily. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm telling you know," Lucius replied dismissively. "We haven't exactly had time to chat. Shut up and listen before Potter gets back."

Draco quieted and stared at his father.

"Just think Draco, how will the wizarding world react when Potter's Mudblood shows up dead on his doorstep?" Lucius said, an evil grin on his face. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice Draco's momentary flinch at the word dead and his hands flex into fists. "Tortured, maimed, raped, and murdered? No one would feel safe. No one is safe. They'll see. If we could get to her, we can get to anyone. It's time, Draco, we're making our move."

"I can't believe you included Flint but not your own son," Draco said hoping he sounded bitter but he could feel his rage and disgust reaching a breaking point. "Who else?"

"No one," Lucius told him but leaned forward as far as the restraints would allow and looked Draco straight in the eye. Draco stared back at him and saw his father clearly for the first time. He looked deranged, Draco thought. Completely unhinged. His father's words broke his thoughts.

"No one but now we have you and when they see what we've done, what we can do, they will flock to us," Lucius ranted. He was salivating at the thought and Draco nearly vomited but forced himself to be calm and listen. "We will recreate better times, my son. With more power than Voldemort ever had. With you at my side, But Flint my second in command. That's why I'm going to let him kill the Mudblood, he's been loyal. You can help. In due time you'll get me out of here and I'll kill them all. Rid this world of Mudblood filth and blood traitors. Sanctimonia Vincet Semper."

"Purity Will Always Conquer," Draco replied barely controlling his voice. "I remember the words from our family's crest. When will Flint kill her?"

"When my faithful wife receives my next letter," Lucius said, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "But I did tell him he could have his fun with her. I'm sure he'd quite enjoy having his way with her since you haven't. Perhaps cut her up a little bit. That's what Mudblood sluts deserve you know. To be treated like the soiled pieces of-"

Lucius' rant was cut off by Draco leaping across the table and wrapping his hands around his father's neck. Draco's face was fierce as he stared into the eyes of the man who had raised him, the man who had taught him to hate, the man who had been his father. Lucius gasped for air, his face turning purple, but Draco squeezed his hands tighter and tighter. He could feel the years of frustration, abuse, and now hatred pouring out of him as he watched his father's eyes begin to bulge from his head. Harry burst through the door and with a flick of his wand, sent Draco flying backwards out of the room.

"He tried to kill me," Lucius gasped, scratching at his neck. "Attempted murder. Of his own father! Back to Azkaban for him."

"I didn't see a thing," Harry replied without looking behind him to see where Draco had landed. "But I heard plenty. Enjoy the rest of your life here at Azkaban."

Harry turned his back to him and walked out of the room, gesturing for the wizards to take the still gasping Lucius back to his cell.

"Solitary, until I say otherwise," were the last words Lucius heard before the guards swarmed him.

A/N: I am SO sorry for the coloful language Lucius used but I needed to piss Draco off.

Thank you for all your wonderful reviews, they mean a lot! :)