Oh snap, things are getting intense. Thoughts?

Anyone catch those hints in the last chapter? Hmmmm? What about this one? Reviews?


The weather near Azkaban was far harsher than it was in Scotland. They were off the coast of the prison, standing on the cliff of a small island that served as the only apparating and port key point in the middle of the North Sea. Harry stood close enough to Hermione to block most of the wind attacking her hair. Instinctively, she leaned into him and looked out towards the black abstract structure in the middle of the ocean.

"Are you certain I can't talk you into going back to the castle?" he asked and looked down at her.

She looked up at him, her hair blowing into her eyes, "I'm not leaving you alone in there, Harry. Not with everything you have going on right now. Not that I don't trust you with Scabior," she bit her lip, "you know how you get with them."

Hermione was speaking about the Death Eaters. Notably, the time he was escorted off the property with a bloody nose and a reporter happened to be at the prison as well. He landed front page in the papers for getting baited into an altercation with Yaxley, who, in turn, used that publicity and turned victim before the final court hearing. He walked out of the Ministry on probation.

His hand reached up and tucked the wayward locks behind her ears, "Even if I said you could go to the library, and I'll join you after?"

"I'll never leave your side," Her words hit him harder than she knew, "you're stuck with me."

What would have been a romantic moment for a first kiss, had the horn of the ferry not blown obnoxiously. The two had been friends for so long, stuck by each other through so much. After a decade together, he could sense her magic better than he could Ron's chaotic outbursts.

Just as they were hunting for Horcruxes, he could feel the soft tug of her magic pull on his own, and small scrunch of her nose. He knew she was about to apparate them both down to the dock.

Harry went through the intricate and high-level security first, "Auror Potter to see Scabior... what's his last name?" he looked over his shoulder to Hermione for the answer. He hadn't known him by any other name.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Potter. Only got one of 'em," the head of security said, "'fraid I can't give ya a room, though."

"Pardon," Hermione spoke up, "why not?"

"Minster's orders, Luv," He handed them back both their wands after registering them, "he's on high profile lockdown."

They knew what that meant, he was in solitary confinement. Hermione's gut swirled, all of the worst ones were on the lowest level, and they would have to walk through death row to question him. That meant she had to see Dolohov.

"We won't need much time anyway," Harry said as he slipped his wand back up his sleeve with a hardened face.

"That's preposterous, surely I can call Kingsley and get this straightened out."

"We're already on his shite list, Mione. He isn't going to be keen on favors right now," sensing her hesitance, "Look, if you want to wait here, that's fine. Just give me twenty minutes, and we'll be out of here."

"Nonsense," she stood up straight and tightened her jacket around herself, "we're partners for better or for worse."

Her words shook him, "Huh?"

"You know what I mean," she blushed and moved towards the elevator.


Once departed from the first level, the atmosphere changed, and Harry could see and hear the shiver of her breath. The structure of Azkaban was hollow in the center, allowing natural light throughout the prison. It flashed through the small window with each floor they passed. It got darker the further they went, deep beneath the raging seas.

The guard who traveled with them remained by the elevator after calling the others who were walking the level. They were giving them the space to conduct their interrogation in peace. It was the least they could do since they were unable to provide them with a private room.

"Call us if you need anything," he nodded his head and turned to bullshit with his men who were glad to get the break, "Just don't rile them up."

"Thanks," Harry nodded and led Hermione down the hall.

Even though the Dementors were replaced after the war, the unsettling feeling of emptiness was still there. Harry could feel the start of a cold sweat start to form on the back of his neck. A hiss of whispers traveled down the hall, announcing that two of the golden trio were walking through their domain.

Scabior was sitting cross-legged on his bed, which was pushed into the furthest corner of the room. Cupping one hand over his right ear and rocking back and forth slowly, whispering to himself in the darkness.

Harry softly spoke in her ear, "What you reckon he's saying? I can't hear him."

"We don't have to hear him, the quill does," she quickly opened her bag, "It doesn't matter the volume, just that it's spoken within its vicinity. It was invented for reporters, after all."

'Three... two... three...' the quill scribbled on, 'Captured... sinful estate..."

He cocked a brow, "What does that mean?"

"Familiar," She whispered quietly to herself and started shuffling through the notepad, "Here, it's the riddle on the grave."

"That means he was at the grave," he gave a frustrated growl, "I told you all the wards weren't enough. I told them we needed Aurors stationed there at all times."

"Not now," she looked back to Scabior and announced herself, "do you know the answer to the riddle, Scabior?"

He paused in his whispers, yet he didn't respond as he continued to rock back and forth.

"You were right about the grave," she continued, "We found the scarf."

Scabior didn't answer her, he continued staring ahead with his hand cupped to his ear.

Harry grabbed the notepad from her and flipped back to the other riddle, "You're a lot smarter than anyone gives you credit for, aren't you Scabior? You figured out how to open the letter, didn't you?"

His hands slowly crept up to cover his mouth and nose, leaving space between his fingers for his eyes as he turned to look at them. Acting as if he was wearing a mask over his face.

"You remember what the letter said?" Harry began to read aloud, "Rip out the framework, leave no stone unturned... what does that mean, Scabior? Is it talking about the grave?"

Scabior jumped up, clapping his hands and laughing, "Oh! He puts the mask on! And Scabior thought Potter was too scared to get his hands dirty."

Harry wasn't letting him side-track this time, "Tell us what the bloody riddle means!"

"Oh, wretched man," Scabior started singing eerily, "Wretched man that I am..."

"We already figured out the other riddle," Harry continued, trying to get through to him.

"Oh, lowly man..." he continued to sing, slowly spinning in a waltz around his cell with an invisible partner, "who can save such a wretch that I am?"

A familiar and unwelcome voice came from the shadows of a cell nearby, "You won't get through to him, his mind is too far gone."

"Can it, Malfoy."

Only the dark outline of the man could be seen, and the occasional flare of the cigarette when he took a drag. His figure leaning against the bars of his cell door as he watched them curiously.

Hermione nudged his shoulder, "Ignore him, Harry. We have to push on Scabior harder."

Lucius tusked, "Does Britain's brightest need help with her homework?"

After the war, The Malfoy family took a plea bargain. Lucius Malfoy would do his time for aiding and abetting the overthrow of the Ministry while his wife and son walked free. They were able to clear other charges on the Malfoy Family. Narcissa was given a pardon for aiding and abetting to Harry's fake death during the final battle, and with Draco being underage at the time, they were able to sway the court in believing he was forced to take the Mark against his will.

Harry followed her instructions and ignored him. Instead, turning back to the insane man dancing by himself in the cell, "Scabior, we know about the bible. That's what you're looking for next, right?"

"But you can't get into the castle to get it, can you?" she asked.

"The girlie thinks she knows," he cackled before his face turned sour, "Don't send an Angel to face the Devil."

"An Angel?" Hermione asked.

Spitting as he frowned upon her in disgust, "Scabior would have found her, but you got in the way."

Ears perked at his statement, "Found who?"

A deep rumble of laughter startled Hermione, "What does Harry Potter want with Severus Snape?"

Harry couldn't ignore the other prisoner any longer, "No one ever said anything about him."

"Oh, but you did." Lucius hissed, "One must be careful when speaking in a prison of Death Eaters."

"Shut up, Malfoy. You don't know anything."

Taking a long drag from his cigarette, "Tell you what, Potter. I'll help you out if you help me out."

Harry scoffed and took a step closer to his cell, speaking loud and clear for the other prisoners to hear him, "You want to make a plea bargain? Didn't you already rat out enough of your friends down here?"

Lucius scowled at him, "That's low, even for you, Potter."

"Oops, did I just make your time in prison harder?" Harry said sarcastically, ignoring the tugging on his jacket from Hermione to stop.

"I'll tell you what you want to know," he cut to the chase.

Hermione stepped forward now, "Bold of you to assume you know what we need."

"I've been that man's best friend for decades, Granger." He rolled his eyes and flicked his cigarette, "So when two high ranked Aurors make a personal visit to a low ranked Death Eater discussing riddles and bibles, I know exactly whom they speak of."

"Where's the bible?" Harry asked.

"Why do you want it?" Lucius shot back.

"Why do you think?"

Lucius chuckled again, "I don't think, Potter. I know. How bad do you want it, though?"

Hermione put a hand in the center of Harry's chest, stopping him from getting any closer to Lucius, "What do you want in return."

He smirked at her, "Probation."

"Never," Harry responded immediately.

"Calm down, Harry." Hermione shushed him before turning to Lucius, "We can't do that, but I might be able to move you to the Commons. That's as close to the exit as you're ever going to get, Malfoy. That way, you can at least get visitation."

Lucius shook his head and crossed his arms, "Probation for access to his rooms. That's the final deal."

"Forget it, come on, Hermione." Harry started to walk away.

She walked closer to Lucius, trying to act unphased by Dolohov being in the cell next to his. "Tell me why we should trust you. How do you have the information that another Death Eater wouldn't? Give me a reason when I could go to another who will take my deal."

"You see, Miss Granger... I have more control in here than you think," Lucius casually leaned against the bars of his cell. His long blond hair hanging a lanky, greasy curtain around his face, "If I were you, I'd take my deal."

"Bullshite," Harry cursed, "and don't start with that 'victim of circumstance' bollocks either."

"You don't see me, but you will hear me," He said in a sinister voice. Standing up straight with his head high, Lucius put his arms out to his sides and yelled, "If this war is for man," he stopped and enthusiastically put a hand to his ear with a wide smile.

A few moments later, the lower levels of the prison erupted in a roar, "THEN I AM A BEAST!"

Hermione pulled out her wand when she saw Dolohov rush the door of his cell to chant with the others. His dark eyes on her, not afraid of the wooden rod pointing at his chest.

"Quiet!" Harry hissed to the prisoners around them. They could hear the sound of the guards running towards them.

Lucius covered his mouth in jest and sarcastically repeated Harry's earlier statement, "Oops, did I just make your time in prison harder?"

"This is why we needed a bloody room!" Hermione cursed and put her wand away.

Lucius signaled them both closer and spoke in a hushed whisper, "Just think of what would happen when if I told them he's alive."

"We never said he was," she argued.

"You didn't have to," he winked and took in a deep breath, "Do you hear that brothers?! The Son of the Morning lives!"

The prison erupted around them in chant, "MORNING STAR! MORNING STAR!"

The guards finally came upon them, "What the bloody hell did you do?! I told ye' not to rile 'em up! You weren't even talking to the right one!"

The prisoners began banging against their cells and throwing with anything they could find at the guards and Aurors. The guards surrounded Hermione and Harry for protection, following protocol for situations like this.

"Get 'em outta here!" another guard ordered as he tried to stop a potential riot from happening.

"Think about my offer!" Lucius called out to them, "Either you let me out of here on your terms, or I get out on his."

Harry shrugged off one of the guards, pushing forward to get closer to Lucius, "Whose?"

Lucius didn't answer; instead, he smirked and stepped away from the cell door, "Qui in captivitatem duxerit, in captivitatem vadet," raising his arms to his sides and looked up as if in prayer, "Qui in gladio occiderit, oportet eum gladio occidi. Hic est patientia, et fides sanctorum."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, "What-" but multiple hands grabbed him.

Lucius' mouth slowly curved into a cruel smirk as the guards pushed Harry towards the exit.