A/N hi all, thank you for your wonderful reviews and adding to lists I am overwhelmed with the love this story has gained so far.
Alpha love to the amazing Kreeblim Sabs who helps me remember what I am supposed to be going with this story.
On with the show...
HPOV
Hermione had spent the week following her ill-fated trip to the wizarding prison locked in a frenzy that those around her had not seen since exam time at Hogwarts, she spoke to everyone she knew about the island in the North Sea from her friends and peers to old Professors and Order contacts still working at The Ministry.
All of their responses had followed along the same lines, they were all scared of the place but earnestly believed that it was the best solution for the Death Eaters that remained following the war. The rest of the conversation would be taken up by discussions over the vast improvements that had been made.
When she had exhausted all of the information she could glean from contacts and still needed to know more she reverted to type and headed to the Library. One of her favourite places in the wizarding world was the London Magical Library; located in the bowels of the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square. The library ran the full length of the old building and was accessible from a painting on the third floor which was hung opposite Van Gogh's Sunflowers, needless to say very few people were ever looking in that direction.
When Hermione arrived ladened down with enough supplies for a full day she headed in the direction of the periodicals. The magical would probably never understand how much it lost by not having computers but they made up for it in some ways. Heading to one of the dedicated booths Hermione unloaded all of her equipment before leaning forward to write in her small practical script 'Azkaban, improvements' onto the rough piece of blue parchment stuck to the desk in front. She moved her hands from the surface of the desk as she watched the ink seeped into the paper before disappearing. Mere seconds later articles started appearing in the trays in front of her, she waited until the last parchment dropped into the predestined space and eagerly began leafing through.
There were hundreds of pieces from The Daily Prophet, of varying length, though most seemed to recycle the same vague information over and over again. The dementors were gone, the inmates were given more regular food, cell changes had been made to improve the quality of life but no real assessment had been done, no undertaking of evaluation of the welfare of those encased inside its walls.
There were also no real details of what it had been like before, she had heard the stories of course, but nothing was covered off in the press. Lifting a quill she jotted down notes of all of the detailed changes, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, in fact, most of the items seemed to make sense, but they were all so basic it left Hermione shivering to consider what she would have walked into had she visited in the early nineties.
She pointed her wand at the desk mounted parchment, muttering the incantation the harassed librarian had shared with her earlier, and the articles vanished back to wherever they came from with a soft pop. Hermione leant back in her chair biting her lip while considering. She would need to review the laws that had been amended to make these changes, to corroborate the evidence she had but first… she lifted her quill and wrote 'Azkaban, Death Eaters'.
The pile that appeared was slightly smaller this time but what she found was infinitely more interesting, the prison was currently home to twenty-five marked Death Eaters though only ten were believed to have been from Voldemort's inner circle, the rest were dead. Various articles suggested that most of the 'others' that had been marked had only been so in the last year of the war, when Voldemort had been a lot less circumspect in who he gave it too, all of those men had been tried and given ten year sentences.
As she poured through the words she couldn't find anything on the trails or sentencing of the inner circle Death Eaters, surely it would be here somewhere? Hermione couldn't remember their trials from back then, she had been in such a muddle after the war attending more funerals than she had ever hoped to attend in her lifespan, reading more news had not been the priority, the more information she consumed the more panicked she felt, a dawning sense of dread was falling on her and she didn't care for what it suggested.
Remembering her fifth year she had a bolt of inspiration and rummaged through the stack looking for a familiar print. Towards the back was a lengthy article on the Death Eaters that remained, their lack of trails and their imprisonment, the article was damning, to say the least; it referred to the current conditions, stated that even with the improvements that had been implemented the environment was inhumane, called for the injustice at their lack of sentencing to be ratified and even accused The Ministry of exploiting these people for good press.
Luna and her father could never have been accused of subtlety.
The offices of The Quibbler were not as zaney as one might have expected from reading the publication. When Hermione had first come here to meet Luna, who was now working for her Father as a Junior Editor, she had been stunned by how much the headquarters looked like a normal office building, however, she soon discovered that was merely on the surface. Blown-up images of popular covers spouting strange exclusives lined the walls, the desks were covered in all kinds of artefacts and the spines of the books lying around revealed the breadth and depth of some of the research that went into the publishings.
When Hermione had first met Luna she had treated The Quibbler, its readership and even her with a level of derision, the publication had been something of a laughing stock, the wizarding equivalent of those UFO magazines her dad would make fun of in large newsagents. The war had changed all that when no one had believed Harry and The Prophet were coming up with a new way to slander him daily, The Quibbler stood by him. Via Luna they printed his account of what happened the night of Voldemort's resurrection, by including that article Xenophilius Lovegood faced down public scorn and exposed himself to threats from the Death Eaters themselves, threats that were carried out when he continued to publish articles championing the side of the Light way after open war had been established.
That was the beauty of The Quibbler Hermione came to understand, buried amongst stories she did not comprehend were little slices of absolute truth, sometimes that veracity would be so bold it would sting and maybe that's what made all of the other stuff necessary. Much like having a relationship with Luna herself the paper provided both scorching burn and comforting salve.
Hermione meandered through the desks heading towards the Editor's office, she had dropped over a note to Xeno ahead of time requesting a moment from his day which he had readily accepted. She would have preferred to meet Luna for a coffee rather than taking time out of the man's day but when she had sent her notes to announce her homecoming Luna had responded with her own travel plans.
She knocked on the open door and stood in the door jam observing the wizard sitting behind his desk. Xeno was pouring over parchments when she arrived, his desk in what could kindly be referred to as an extreme state of organised chaos. His soft blond, permanently windswept, hair was longer than she remembered; resting just below his shoulders, offset massively by the shocking magenta of his robes. On anyone else the outfit would have looked completely ridiculous but whether down to his confidence in his eccentricity or his warmth it sort of worked for the wizard.
He looked up at the noise and his face broke into a kind smile "Hermione so good to see you" he gestured for her to take the seat in front of his desk "what can I do for you?"
Hermione took the seat gratefully and decided to get right to it "thank you for seeing me Mr Lovegood, I don't want to waste any of you time but I was hoping I could ask you some questions" he nodded "Well as you know I have been away for a long time.."
"Three years wasn't it?" he interrupted laughing softly "I receive a running commentary on the goings on in your life from Luna"
Hermione smiled "I'm sure, I had been hoping to see her but as I got to London I received a letter to say she was leaving" she phrased the next part carefully "I understand she was going on an expedition with Rolf Scamander?"
"Yes they met here a few months ago, he was talking about a creature that he had discovered and Luna wanted to see it, they will be back in a few weeks" It was clear from Xeno's expression that he was very pleased with this development and Hermione decided to press no further.
"Well that sounds wonderful, I hope to hear all about it when she returns. I actually came to speak to you about something specific, I was wondering... how much you can tell me about Azkaban?"
He looked slightly surprised but otherwise unconcerned about her question "I'll help however I can what is it you wish to know?"
"I visited a week ago, as a favor to a… well for someone, and the conditions were worse than I was expecting, there has been a lot said about improvements and the like and while it's clear they have done something the environment still leaves an awful lot to be desired and there was some confusion about the inner circle trials?"
Xeno Lovegood sighed and the comforting smile slipped from his face, Hermione was reminded of his expression the day that he had called the Death Eaters, another time when she had come knocking on his door for answers, she didn't think she was going to like what he had to share "After the war the Death Eaters known to be part of the inner circle were transferred to Azkaban without trial, there was talk, talk that lasted for a long time several years in fact about them being scheduled but the articles in The Prophet kept getting smaller and smaller and eventually about eighteen months ago they stopped altogether"
"And no one said anything?" she questioned, though she was fairly certain she already knew the answer.
Mr Lovegood settled further back into his chair, steepling his fingers ahead of himself "We wrote articles of course, but the readership we had did not seem to share our concern. Public opinion is not in their favour, the press can print things the government won't say but it relies on the people taking up the cause, in this case, that didn't happen"
"Why?" she asked.
"It is my understanding that people do not need to empathise with a person to overlook their crimes, but they do need to feel some kind of sympathy for them. No matter what The Quibbler may have intended we only reported the facts and much of wizarding Britain has been brought up with the names of those men being used to scare children and adults alike with nightmarish tales of dark deeds. Most of them have no family left, anyone they do have is either locked up with them or not longer in a position of power. Simply put there is no one left to humanise them, at least not enough for people to care that they are being treated... unfairly"
She thought of the Malfoys having to revert to her for assistance and what that must have cost them "But surely the way we treat prisoners reflects more on us as a society than it does on them as the wrongdoer?"
His smiled wanly at her "true, and such insights reflect well on you my dear, however, if I might make a suggestion?"
"Of course" she answered earnestly.
"You will find that people are very opposed to having any blame laid at their feet, however justly it may belong there, you would do well to not focus on what has gone before, instead look to what can be done to change the future"
Hermione's fingers flexed with the urge to begin writing, she had lists to begin and books to research "Thank you Xeno you've given me a lot to think about".
It took two months for Hermione to complete all of the ground work she needed before beginning, Xeno's words had galvanised her into action but there was no way she was going in there unprepared. Getting her visit request granted had been easy enough, though the ease of that process only compounded her many issues to tackle. When she had submitted her form she noticed there had been no box to specify her relationship to the person, when she pressed she was told that wasn't necessary, additionally it appeared that once a visit had been requested the Death Eaters had no recourse to refuse, Merlin only knew what they could have been subjected to by some. After leaving the DMLE she put in a request for information with the records department, she wanted to know who had been to the island and who they had seen in the last four years. Especially, she shuddered to think, repeat visitors.
She shifted the files in her hands as she made her way through the large metal doors, she did not delay this time having a mission chased away some of her fear but mostly she just wanted to get started, she had no idea how this was going to go though she suspected this initial meeting would be less than pleasant. She could have shrunk the files she supposed, but by holding them all and keeping them pressed against her chest she felt she had created a barrier of sorts, something to hide behind at the very least.
Cormac was waiting for her at the check-in station, he smiled his easy smile as she appeared and then glanced at all of her paperwork "somethings never change" he said with a great deal of affection "come on then Granger let's get you upstairs, I'm escorting you today" he said with a mock pompous bow which made her giggle in spite of the situation.
She followed on behind, grateful she wouldn't have to see Johnson on this visit, she wasn't sure what to say to the man and she definitely didn't want him to confront her over her reason for returning, she didn't have to be a seer to know he was unlikely to happy with her intended purpose. She glanced at the man at her side under her lashes as they entered the lift, what of Cormac? Would he be the type to ignore a man in pain? She didn't think so, he may have changed in the three years that they had been apart but she doubted he would have changed in essentials, and Cormac was essentially a good person, an arrogant boy at times, but a good person.
When they got to the appropriate floor he showed her into the room she had requested, the cell fronts had put her in mind of zoos and she had no wish to conduct her conversation there. She began distributing her load and placing the stack of files in front of her. Cormac stood by the door shifting slightly, and she raised a brow in question at his obvious discomfort.
"Is everything ok?" she asked innocently.
"Yes…" he answered unconvincingly "do you know what you're doing Hermione? These people are dangerous, I don't want you to get hurt poking a wasps nest"
His concern for her was endearing but in this instance unnecessary "I'll be fine Cormac I promise" she said gently, sitting down, hopefully actively communicating to him that her desire to stay was not to be shaken.
"Okay" he agreed "I'll go get him"
"Thank you"
He turned before leaving the room "maybe we could go for dinner, over the weekend? We're long overdue a catch up" his tone was hopeful but it didn't make her think he considered it to be any more than what he had asked for, a catch up with friends.
"We certainly are, that sounds great" she said with real enthusiasm, she had missed their conversations.
He smiled "I'll owl you" and then he vanished from the room.
Hermione looked down at her paperwork, the plan of attack had taken time but the longest process had been selecting the right person. Xeno was right, the public needed someone to be the face of the Death Eaters incarcerated here, as stupid as that may have sounded, in order to make any changes she needed to make this a human issue.
It was only when she began going through the profiles that she realised how many of the most prominent names had died at the final battle. The Carrows were here but they were out of consideration, the brother and sister duo were actual sadists and too many of the Hogwarts alumni and staff had suffered at their hands.
Lestrange had become a byword for demented, thanks in no small part by Bellatrix though the interaction she had with Rabastan before left her unwilling to put him in any sort of spotlight, she was no healer but at the very least he was vulnerable. She had no idea what to make of Rodolphus but was certain anyone involved in the attack against the Longbottoms would not be looked upon favourably.
She had no thought of talking to Nott or McNair their case files alone were enough to make her shudder.
What they needed was someone who would appeal to the public, who was had a respectable name and frankly given the understanding she had of how things worked attractive and well spoken wouldn't hurt. She had run her idea past Kingsley, though he may now have reached the lofty heights of Minister for Magic you don't ride an invisible horse with someone in a battle without forming a bond. Kingsley was attentive to her ideas, though she wasn't sure if he had a genuine interest or was just humouring her. She explained to him how she had thought Malfoy would have been her best option, but Kingsley put a stop to that. He explained how too many people had been blackmailed by Draco's father over the years for it to work, too many people wanted him, and the secrets he held, shut away.
That left three inmates but only one that she thought could really work. Hermione shuffled the files into a more sensical order, she didn't need them to consult with they were more prop than anything. She needed to be taken seriously, a little glimpse into how much work she had already done would hopefully go some way.
The door knocked and Cormac walked in again but her eyes were drawn to the dark figure looming behind him. Reuben Yaxley was tall, really, really tall with broad shoulders and hair that fell to his shoulders in loose, darkest brown waves. His facial hair had clearly gone a bit wayward while here but she could still make out the lines of his face, he had a strong jaw line and large manly features.
Cormac and another auror that had been at the back of the party moved Mr Yaxley to sit in the chair opposite her, charming his feet so they would remain rooted to the floor, Hermione had previously requested his hands not be bound she wanted him to be as comfortable as possible.
When they had finished Cormac turned to her "We will be just outside Hermione, okay?" She was conscious of the quick head movement of the man in front of her, maybe he hadn't recognised her when he first came in. It wasn't exactly a surprise, the war had been four years ago and they hadn't had a huge amount of interaction aside from him chasing them out of The Ministry while on the Horcrux hunt.
"Yes Cormac, thank you I will be fine" she smiled in a way she hoped was reassuring doing her level best to keep her voice steady and unconcerned.
When the door closed she screwed up all of her bravery to meet the man's gaze, Reuben Yaxley's eyes were a light blue grey, the colour stood out as remarkable soft against the harsh lines of the rest of his face, his gaze was unwavering but she could not detect the emotion simmering in their depths.
Mindful of not letting the quiet stretch she began "I'm sure you're wondering why I asked to meet with you Mr Yaxley"
He made no response, it wasn't exactly a surprise she hadn't exactly been expecting to have him gabbling at her straight away, if ever, and honestly she wasn't the best at putting people at ease or establishing a quick rapour. She did, however, have a reputation for both integrity and tenacity which was a good job as she was going to need both.
"Mr Yaxley I came to Azkaban a few months ago and I was concerned that the provisions The Ministry have implemented have not gone far enough to improve conditions here. In order to do something about it I believe I need to do something to get more attention, it is my plan to interview a current inmate of Azkaban prison and publish the details of those finding, humanise the story if you like"
He stood abruptly from his chair and she just managed to hold on to the scream that threatened at his sharp movement, the flinch that seemed to move her entire body she was unable to control, his feet were still firmly planted by the sticking charm to the floor, in fact he didn't even make an attempt to move he just stood looming over her. She had been aware of his size when he came into the room but now as she sat completely within the shadow his broad form had created she could really appreciate how intimidating he was, she suspected that he wasn't even really trying and that made a frisson of fear chace up her rigid spine.
"I'm not a fucking house elf Miss Granger" he spat at her, his voice was low and deep, the sound held a rumbling vibration that would have been extremely pleasant had it not been directed at her in such rage. She started looking up at him eyes wide with surprise at his reference, and he smirked at her "Oh I know all about you, we spent days hauled up in a room learning about the golden trio, can't tell you how long we laughed when Snape told us about your badges"
A flush fell over her cheeks as she listened to the derision in his tone, somehow hearing that Professor Snape had laughed at her hurt her more than she would have liked, she swallowed the lump in her throat, she would worry about that later.
"I am aware of that Mr Yaxley" she said with us much authority as she could muster "but this is very important and I believe could help you a great deal"
"I'm not interested" he bit out, she had read in his file that he had been born and raised in the North of England but had left there when he was ten, she was surprised at how thick his accent remained but she reasoned it could be more pronounced as his blood was clearly up.
She felt herself bristle at his quick rejection, while she really was very scared she was never one to back down easily "Really you haven't listened to all I…"
"Will you fucking listen!" he boomed at her and she fell quiet "I may not have a choice about being here but I have one about whether or not I take part in some deranged witch's latest save the world scheme" he barked at her, his nostrils flaring.
She flexed her hands around the top most file in front of her, most people would refer to Hermione Granger as a witch of high moral fibre and for the most part that was true but she had accepted about herself a long time ago that her sense of justice prevailed over many things, she had broken laws and inflicted immeasurable pain over it before, right now she would poke a weak spot.
"Fine Mr Yaxley" she stood from her seat trying her best not to calculate the many inches that separated their heads "I will tell the aurors we are done here" she didn't look up at his face as she began shuffling the parchment in front of her "I'll be sure to pass on to Mr Dolohov that our attempts to assist were hindered by your unwillingness to cooperate"
All the information she had gathered pointed to the two wizards being close, their friendship seemed to have started when they were both at school and continued into adulthood, various accounts existed of them being on missions together as well as people that had known them at Hogwarts commenting on their intimate friendship. Neither of them had any other family and she thought of how that would intensify their relationship. She thought of Harry, how much would she do to keep him safe?
The answer was simple, anything and everything necessary.
She did look up then to see whether or not her volley had hit the mark, the glare he had fixed on earlier had terrified her, she tried to hide it but she probably betrayed herself, she had ready his file, a lot. Reuben Yaxley was said to have had a specialisation in torture and had been used extensively by Voldemort to extort information from unwilling parties. People he had worked with at the DMLE during the time it was under Death Eater control said he was impossible to lie too, better than she had tried and failed. She forced her frozen legs to the door and she had her hand gripping the cool metal handle when he called for her to stop.
" " he bit out, each word clearly costing him dearly.
Keen to not stretch out this portion of their conversation any further she did as asked and resumed her seat "what would you like me to explain?" she asked placatingly.
"Why pick me?" he questioned suspicion radiating from him.
She suddenly felt the confidence that came from being on familiar ground, she had anticipated his question and his distrust "The Yaxley family are members of the sacred twenty-eight, war or no war the general population feel, however much they may hide it now, that you are above being treated this way" the answer was rehearsed but honest.
YPOV
The words were so familiar it made him start, it was exactly the sort of thing his father would have said if he had been alive to see his son in Azkaban for the second time. As she filed back into the chair he followed suit and sat back down, he had been using his height to intimate her, he didn't really need to be standing to do that, he was still imposing when sitting down, it was made slightly ridiculous by her stature but he had still done it and it had worked to.
When he had first walked in he had been irritated, he was a wizard that liked control, as much as he didn't like being in prison he could control his existence fairly well, he had done his best to intimidate most of the guards when he arrived, many of them had worked under him at The Ministry and had needed no further encouragement to stay out of his way. Being dragged unexpectedly for a meeting with Merlin knew who had left him momentarily reeling.
When they had got to the door of the small room he had mentally been preparing himself for a physical altercation, maybe someone had paid off the guards enough to have a go at him, while he didn't have his magic they may have stood half a chance, as long as they bound him totally.
He had been caught up short by the tiny witch sat behind the desk surrounded by parchment files, not that it meant she wasn't there to hex him, he had faced some pretty formidable woman before, though normally when a wand was pointed at him in those situations he was trying to flee after a quick tumble, in various stages of undress.
The paperwork threw him, it made her look official which put him on edge, only to be knocked off course again when Mclaggen had called her Hermione, weren't too many of those around. When his head snapped over to her quicker than he could suppress he took in her profile, small nose smattered with freckles and large brown eyes, face partially hidden by a mass of haywire chocolate curls, it was her, it was Hermione fucking Granger. He wondered how much of failing to recall her immediately could be put down to his addled brain. He took a closer look and reassured himself that his facilities were still whatever they were, he hadn't recognised her as she had changed.
It was strange to see her as a woman now and not the skinny child she had been all those years ago. He had seen glimpses of her at the final battle, malnourished, beaten up and just about as dirty as he was now. Thinking of his own state he was hit by a sudden awareness that Hermione Granger or not he was sitting in front of a woman for the first time in years, he tucked his offending fingernails into his palms.
He was suspicious of her motives, everyone knew she had a thing about underdogs; elves, following Potter around and hadn't she even been making doe-eyes at Weasley? Buy why this? He hadn't been lying he really didn't want to do to be involved in some press The Ministry were spouting but she had played her cards well she obviously had a bit more cunning than she had ever been given credit for.
"I don't need your pity Miss Granger" he all but growled at her. It was invigorating that feeling of dominating someone, a conversation, a room anything.
"I'm not offering it" she answered plainly closing her hands together in front of her "I am offering my help, do you think you could over yourself enough to accept it?" she had obviously tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice but wasn't wholly successful, his hands twitched slightly at her show of bravado.
"Why would you do this? Bare in mind I will know if you are lying" he threatened.
She looked up to meet his gaze and his eyes fixed on her large chocolate pools waiting for any hint of deception "Are you an animal Mr Yaxley?" she asked tonelessly.
"No"
"Then you don't deserve to live like one"
When he was led back into his cells he found Antonin standing nearest his wall he walked over.
"What was that about?" his friend asked, he was agitated and Reuben knew that he should probably try to comfort him but he couldn't help but be buoyed at the sight of Antonin doing something other than lying motionless on his cot and staring at the ceiling.
His face split into a broad grin "I think we've just found a bleeding heart Gryffindor that we should be able to use to our advantage"
A/N next up; a lot of people have opinions. Prior warning, next update may take a little longer.
