The Dementors haven't been there for years, but Harry still really, really, fucking hates Azkaban.

He Apparates to the mainland, right on the edge of the sea, and if he squints, he can see the silhouette of the island, a dark spot on the dark horizon. To make things even better, it seems like it's going to rain.

He doesn't have anyone with him, Aurors or otherwise. It's usually protocol: no one visits Azkaban alone, not without Auror backup. Even visitors have guards and escorts in addition to the guards inside the prison.

He finds the boats easily enough. It's been years, but Azkaban isn't the sort of thing he thinks he can ever forget. Once he finds the boats, he sits down on the bench, takes out his wand, and waits.

It takes less than five minutes before he hears the small pop that can only mean someone's Apparated next to him. "Took you long enough," he says.

"I would have gotten here faster, but Teddy was delayed on his way over," says a familiar voice.

Harry turns and grins at Hermione. Ron's standing next to her, looking disgruntled and wearing his Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes robes. "How necessary is Azkaban, mate?" he asks, running a hand through his hair.

"Very necessary," Harry says. "I didn't know you'd show up, too."

"Of course we came," Hermione says.

"I was visiting Hermione in her office when Teddy showed up," Ron says. "He said you're going to Azkaban to see Mulciber – is that true?"

Harry nods.

Ron looks at him for a moment, and then nods as well. "Alright. Let's go, then."

Harry won't admit it, but there's a reason he sat here and waited. He's a grown man, but the idea of strolling into Azkaban sends shivers down his spine, and he feels much better now that he knows he's going in with Ron and Hermione. He'd been counting on Hermione to show up – despite being Minister, no matter how busy she's gotten, she's made it a point of making sure he never goes to Azkaban alone, especially after how he reacted the first time he had a shift there as an Auror – but Ron is an added bonus, and he feels lighter seeing them both standing there.

"I'll get us a boat," Ron continues, and goes to speak to the wizard in charge of ferrying people to and from the mainland and Azkaban.

"So," says Hermione. "Why didn't you take Teddy with you?"

"Why didn't I take my godson to one of the worst places on the planet, you mean?" Harry says, disbelieving.

"He's transferring to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Hermione says. "He's even talked about formally training to be an Auror. It's inevitable that he would have to take an Azkaban shift sooner or later, don't you think?"

Harry shakes his head. "Maybe," he concedes. "I'm trying not to think about that too much, though."

"You can't protect all of them from everything, you know," Hermione says quietly.

"Maybe," Harry concedes. "Doesn't mean that I'm not going to try my damned best, though."

"Come on," Ron calls out, and Hermione gives him a sad smile before she leads them over to where Ron's got their boat ready.

"So, visitor records, you said?" Hermione says, once they're in Azkaban. It's as grey and foreboding as ever, and the absence of Dementors does not, in any way, serve to make Harry feel any better. They're not even in the prison yet, not really, but it's as if the very island exudes a malevolent energy.

"Yes," Harry says.

"That won't be enough," Ron says. "You know that, right?"

Harry sighs. "Yeah."

"Which means…"

"Yeah," Harry says again. They'll have to speak to Mulciber to confirm anything they find. It'll have to be a proper interrogation, the kind he hasn't done in ages: being the Head of the Auror Department doesn't allow for the opportunity for too much interrogation or fieldwork. Nor does being the Defence Professor at Hogwarts.

"Want some company?" Ron offers.

"Merlin, yes," Harry says. He doesn't waste a moment on hesitation. It's been years – decades, since before Rosie was born – since Ron joined him in an interrogation. Everything is easier with him: all these years, and Harry doesn't think he'll ever find a better partner.

"I can get the records and join you," Hermione offers, but it's half-hearted at best. She's never liked this part of it, which is why she's always stayed well away from the Auror Department. She prefers to stay on the legal side of it, drafting laws and making the wizarding world a better place for all of them.

"Actually," Harry says. "I think we should all look at the records first. Then we'll know what to ask Mulciber about. But you don't need and come talk to him with us, if you don't want to," he adds, when he sees the look on Hermione's face.

"Besides, you've got pretty important Minister for Magic things to do, don't you?" Ron teases her.

Hermione visibly relaxes. "Oh, good." She leads them to the records room, and Harry and Ron sit down as she fetches the file on Mulciber.

"The guard who gave it to me… she told me that it's quite gory," Hermione says when she returns, sitting down at their table.

"Wonder what it'd be like to have to know about gory things?" Harry says dryly.

Ron snorts, and even Hermione smiles. "Come on. The quicker we start this, the quicker we can get it over with."

Hermione spreads out the contents of the files, handing pieces of parchment to Ron and Harry. "There. That's his visitor record," she says, handing it to Ron as she does, "and that's the complaints the guards have about him." She hands Harry a significantly thicker sheaf of parchment.

"Blimey," Ron mutters, scanning the piece. "You're right, Harry. Goyle's visited him a few times, the git. Not as often as Avery, though. He's been visiting him at least once a month since last August."

"That's when Avery got let off," Harry says. "Last August."

Ron shows Harry the list of visitation dates. "Hey, look at this. The last visit was a couple of days before Scorpius, Al, and Rosie were attacked," he says.

Harry frowns. "Which means that it's possible that Avery and Mulciber gave the orders for that. Especially since they were Death Eater pals."

"And they were cell mates at Azkaban," Hermione puts in, not looking up from the parchment she's looking at.

"Gives them lots of time to plot," Ron says.

Harry nods in agreement. "Right. Let's go talk to him," he decides.

"Are you sure you don't need me to come?" Hermione says.

Ron leans forward, kisses her cheek. "We'll be fine," he assures her.

"I know," Hermione says. "But… you'll call me if you need me?"

Harry smiles. "Yes, Minister," he teases, and then accepts her hug before she rushes off to the records room.

The visitors' room is miserable, just as miserable as the rest of the prison.

"We don't allow visitors at this hour. It's only on specific days, twice a month," the guard tells Harry and Ron when they walk in.

Harry doesn't like using his name. He hates it. He hates the looks, the way people look at his scar – even now, even after all these years – and he hates the attention. He's not too fond of using his position as the Head of the Auror Department (former head, he corrects himself), either.

Which is why all he does now does is arch an eyebrow. The guard is sitting down at the entrance; she doesn't look up at them, doesn't so much as wait for either of them to say anything before she speaks.

"Unless you're from the Auror Department," the guard continues. "Are you?"

Harry considers it, and says, "In a way, yes."

The guard looks up, and her eyes go wide in recognition. Before she can say anything else, another guard – a man Harry vaguely recognises – comes rushing in and says, "Lucy, the Minister's here, along with—oh."

"Hi, Bertie," Ron says with a grin, and then, to the other guard: "We need to see Mulciber."

"Yes, of course—I'm so sorry," the guard – Lucy, it seems – stammers out.

After reassuring Lucy, and about fifty apologies, Harry and Ron sit down at one of the tables and wait. There's not much they can do.

"So. How sure are you that Mulciber and Avery have mobilised the Death Eaters?" Ron says.

Said like that, put in Ron's clear words, Harry knows, just knows, that they're right about this. "About ninety percent sure," he says.

"Well. Then we're a bit fucked, aren't we?" Ron says.

Harry takes himself by surprise when he laughs.

The door opens, and two guards bring in Mulciber. He looks just as unpleasant as Harry remembers from his trial. His hands are magically Bound together, and when he sits down, he sneers at them. Harry nods at Lucy and Bertie, who retreat to the door, wands at the ready.

"You look just like your Blood Traitor father, Potter," Mulciber sneers.

"So I've been told, yes," Harry says. He looks at Ron. They share a silent glance, and Ron nods. Harry takes his nod to mean I'll back you up, however you do this.

"Got your mother's Mudblood eyes, though," Mulciber continues.

It takes all of Harry's effort to suppress a tired sigh. More than twenty years after the war, and Mulciber thinks that he hasn't heard a thousand different Death Eaters and criminals insult him in a thousand different ways. It's almost insulting.

"I knew them at Hogwarts, you know," Mulciber says. "Your parents. Think they'd be proud of you? Look at what you've done. Separating families. The world would be a better place if you weren't around, Potter." He spits the last word out. Lucy and Bertie both raise their wands, but Harry shakes his head minutely at them.

"Maybe so," Harry says, setting the file he's been holding down on the table with a satisfying thump. "But that's not what I wanted to chat about. You've been busy here, haven't you? No access to your wand in years, but you've tried to attack many wizards during your time here."

"So many that I think there won't be room in your file if you continue the habit," Ron adds.

"That's right," Harry agrees. "And your old pal seemed to enjoy it, too. Which makes me wonder how he got off on good behaviour. Of course, you'd know all about that," he adds, "he's been visiting you monthly since he got out."

"Cute friendship, that," Ron puts in.

"Oh, yeah. Probably masterminded the whole thing in here. Dementors near Hogwarts, graffiti, all of it. You want to know what I think, Ron?"

"What's that?" Ron says, leaning back in his chair.

"I think the Dementors were Avery's idea," Harry says, just as casually as Ron. "I mean, between you and me, Mulciber, you've hardly the brains between you two, are you?"

Mulciber sits up, his sneer replaced with an expression of pure hatred, but doesn't say anything else.

"Oh, come on, Harry, it's not his fault," Ron says. "He's never had to think for himself, has he?"

"That's true. He's used to following Voldemort around," Harry says.

"Don't say the Dark Lord's name," Mulciber snarls. "You—you're not worthy, how dare—"

"If I wanted to say his name, I'd say Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harry points out. "Besides, I can say his name. I've gotten up close and personal with him. As I remember, I was the last thing he saw before he died."

Mulciber seems too angry to respond, so Harry continues.

"You're lucky, you know," he continues, moving to nudge Ron's knee with his own under the table. "Completely lucky that the kids, Nigel Goyle and the rest of them, wanted to attack Scorpius. Lucky that Rita Avery hates me as much as you do and chose to graffiti shit about me."

Ron seems to understand what he says, because he adds, "Lucky that the Dementors happened to be there when the Hogwarts Express on the way to school in September."

"It was probably Avery, who thought about taking a chance with all of it. It couldn't have occurred to you, of course," Harry adds. "Get the Dementors on your side, scare them a bit. Poison the children's minds against anyone who was a traitor to the Death Eaters. You're lucky that the children already hated them, that the Dementors wanted an excuse to get back out into the world and multiply again." He knows the strategy's work when Mulciber stands up in rage, stumbles against his magical bindings, and collapses back into the chair, glaring at them.

"You think it was luck?" Mulciber snarls. "Avery and I, we planned it for months – years, even! It was my idea, Potter – the Dementors, attacking the Malfoy brat because Goyle hates him, everything! You think you're so clever? Well, Avery knew that you might come here to see me. He's been keeping an eye for me, see. But it wasn't him that thought of all of this. It was me. I knew if we got the Dementors out, if we could scare everyone enough that they'd accept the truth about who the real villain is… if we could show them what happens to traitors like Malfoy… then we'd get them back on our side. The right side," he adds, with a look of satisfaction that Harry can only describe as 'nauseatingly ugly'.

"Is that a confession?" Harry asks mildly.

Mulciber looks a bit taken aback by that.

"I think it was, yeah," Ron says. "Looks like our work is done, innit?"

Harry looks up and nods at Lucy, before he stands up, Ron following his lead. "Well, thank you for that, Mulciber. You've been… helpful."

"Very cooperative," Ron adds.

Lucy and Bertie walk over to Mulciber and pull him to his feet, none too gently.

"You may look happy now, Potter," Mulciber says, "but I don't think you'll be quite so happy when you see what's waiting for you in your precious Hogwarts when you get back."

He's pulled away by the guards before he can say anything else, and Harry turns to look at Ron, who's looking as worried as he is.

"He could've been bluffing," Ron says.

"Could've, yeah," Harry says. "But he knew about the Dementors. And Scorpius."

"That's true. He admitted to all of it," Ron says.

"So we can't take the risk of him bluffing, can we?" Harry says.

Ron shakes his head. "No. We can't."

Harry sighs. "I'll send Gin a Patronus. McGonagall, too," he says.

"Yeah. Probably a good idea," Ron agrees. "We should find Hermione. What do we tell her?"

"Let's tell her the truth," Harry says. "Let's tell her that we have a suspicion that all hell has broken loose in Hogwarts, and that we need to get there as quickly as we can."