Disclaimer: All Harry Potter belongs to JKR!

A/N This fic won't become Deathly Hallows compliant, although I may use parts of that brilliant novel. I for one absolutely loved it - even the epilogue!!

"It's a terrible idea, Hermione," Harry told her flatly. "No good can come of it."

"I think you're wrong," she replied. "Look, it won't take long, and we can still go to Godric's Hollow on Monday as planned. It's just a quick stop."

"No."

"You're not my father, Harry," Hermione said hotly. "You can't tell me what to do." Hermione had been arguing with Harry for the last ten minutes. She had risen early, but Harry had beaten her. He was already sipping tea when she entered the kitchen, looking deep in thought. The Burrow was familiar enough that she had not had any confusion upon waking; her mind was firmly back in 1997, for which she was grateful. Ron, always a late sleeper, was still predictably snoring away upstairs.

"Of course I can't tell you what to do," Harry said. "I can just hope that you know I have your best interests at heart. It's a bad place, Hermione. You have no business there."

"We need all the information we can get, Harry. Lucius Malfoy was one of Voldemort's right-hand men. He's weak now, and we can use that to our advantage." Hermione had been hurt, angry and more confused than ever when she left Remus the night before. Seeing Ron again had rejuvenated the feelings she'd buried in Marauders' time, but her feelings for Remus were strong, too. She knew her anger towards Harry right now were just misdirected, but it didn't stop her glare or sharp tone.

"What reason would he have for helping us?" Harry asked. He had no idea why Hermione had suggested the visit to Azkaban, but it left him cold. He told her what he felt: no good would come of it. For some reason Hermione was adamant about it, and being rather nasty on the subject.

"Maybe we can dangle early release in front of him or something."

"We can't make that deal, Hermione, and Lucius knows it. Besides, I don't want him let out early. He tried to give me to Voldemort on several occasions, if you remember correctly. He belongs in prison."

And he tried to rape me, Hermione thought. I know where he belongs. Aloud, she said, "I know that, Harry. I understand how you feel; I don't want him out, either. But I do want to talk to him. I think I can get some information from him."

"Forgive me, Hermione, but why in the hell would Lucius tell you anything? He hates muggleborns as it is, and Draco has certainly added to his poisonous feelings about you in particular. Why on earth would he help you?"

"I don't know, but I think it's worth a try, Harry," she said. "You're not the only one who can get results from people."

"Hermione, you're taking this a little personally and you're being ridiculous. Where did this even come from? Are you sure your head's not still hurting from yesterday?"

"That's nice, Harry, real nice," she snapped back at him. "I'm fine. Head's fine, thinking's clear. I think it's a good idea, Harry, even if you don't."

"You're right, I don't."

"Well, too bad, because I am going. And I'd appreciate if you'd let me go alone."

"Now you know that's not going to happen, Hermione," Harry said, shaking his head in disbelief. What was with her? "Look, we're going about this the wrong way. There's no reason to fight."

"You're fighting with me," she said, before she could stop herself. She knew she sounded like an infant, but Harry was infuriating her. Bottom line, he couldn't tell her what to do.

"Well, then I'll stop fighting," he said with a long-suffering sigh. "I wish you would reconsider, Hermione, but I guess I can't physically restrain you. If you feel that strongly about it, we'll wake Ron right now and go."

God, Ron too? Great. Hermione huffed deeply, but she knew she was stuck. There was really no way around taking the two of them with her. She also knew that she should probably scrap the whole idea. There was little chance Lucius remembered the mudblood he'd terrorized twenty years ago, and even less chance that he had connected her to Hermione. He certainly had given her no special attention the few times they had been face to face. To remind him now was almost certainly a terrible mistake. Remus, who she was sure did remember, would have a fit. Sirius, James and Lily were no doubt screaming from their graves.

Brilliant idea, Granger, Sirius's voices told her. Maybe you could go ahead and alert Harry to your recent activities while you're at it. Should we also tell Ron you used to snog Moony?

Still, she wanted to visit Malfoy. She knew that she had looked different when she had met him in her second, fourth, and even fifth years. If he saw her now, it might jog his memory, and she had to make sure that happened on her terms. She had to know. And if necessary, I'll obliviate his albino ass. I wasn't Gilderoy Lockhart's best student for nothing. Memory charms may not your biggest strength, but I daresay you can manage one in a pinch.

Two hours later, Hermione, Ron and Harry stood outside the "visitor's room" in Azkaban. They had been granted special permission to visit Malfoy; Harry's "chosen one" status did open some doors. The room was of course heavily guarded, but Hermione's stomach was still filled with butterflies. Harry and Ron had agreed to let her have ten minutes - and only ten - alone with Malfoy. She thought it would be enough.

"We'll be right out here," Ron said for the fifth time. "If you're one minute late, we're coming in."

"I'll be fine," she said, not really believing it. "There are guards in there, and you're right out here. I have my wand; he doesn't. I swear this is a good idea." Before either boy could protest again, Hermione opened the door and stepped inside, casting muffliato so the guards couldn't hear her conversation with Lucius. She ignored the feeling she always got when using one of the "Prince's" spells. Lucius was sitting at a table, looking at her with frank curiosity. Azkaban had done him no favors in the looks department, but Hermione could still see his basic arrogance underneath. Without the dementors, she guessed Azkaban wasn't quite as bad as it used to be; still, it was obviously bad enough. She sat down at the table across from him, and slid her wand out of her pocket, hiding it on her lap.

"Miss Granger," he stated, polite contempt in his voice. "To what do I owe this... pleasure, is it?"

"Mr. Malfoy," she replied. "I thought perhaps we could have a little chat."

"Well, mudbloods aren't my first choice for conversation partners. Neither are Gryffindors, for that matter, but under the circumstances, I'd say you're a step up from my usual companions. In fact, you look downright charming."

"How kind of you," she said woodenly. Lucius had no unusual recognition in his eyes; he was staring at her with the same disdainful disinterest she had seen on their previous, pre-time traveling interactions. What a waste of time.

"What can I do for you, Miss Granger? Surely you don't expect to glean any information from me. You know better than that. And where are your watchdogs? Draco tells me you're rarely without your boyfriends. He's had some interesting theories about how the three of you spend your time, but I'd hate to sully the ears of such proper young lady, mudblood or not. Although you do look rather pretty when you blush. Draco seems to think so, although he puts things a little differently."

Hermione inwardly shuddered. Lucius was bad enough. She didn't need Ferret-Face on her tail as well. "Harry and Ron are outside, Mr. Malfoy. I asked to speak with you alone."

"Indeed?" Malfoy smirked. "Perhaps Draco was right. He always implied you might have a thing for Slytherins."

"I'd rather keep my breakfast down, if you don't mind," she snapped, forgetting herself. "Let's not mention the ferret again, or his sick fantasies, agreed?"

"Ferret, huh," he said musingly. Hermione paled at the speculative look on his face. He looked as if he'd just swallowed a remembrall. God, Hermione, did you want him to remember? You are the stupidest girl who ever lived. He knows! "Well, well, well. I thought perhaps that was you. Not at first, of course. When we met in Diagon Ally... Well, you really were the most appalling looking child. Such hair! Such teeth! I don't mean to be unkind, my dear, but you gave mudbloods a bad name." He smiled as she narrowed her eyes at him and gripped her wand tightly beneath the table. "But when I saw you again at the Department of Mysteries, I thought you'd grown up nicely. Even, I daresay, a little pretty. And you looked familiar to me."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Malfoy."

"Don't let's play dumb, Miss Granger. I remember Draco's little transformation in his fourth year and the long ago terms of endearment my lost mudblood bestowed on me. And it's not so hard to do the math, especially when the answer's right in front of me. My, my, how time flies. Time Turner, was it? How novel. Have you just gotten back, my dear? And you rushed all this way to see me? I'm flattered."

"I told you I don't -"

"Don't play games with me, mudblood," he said, all false civility gone from his voice. "Why did you come here? Revenge? That was twenty years ago, at least by my calendar. Or did you want to see if I recognized you? I might not have, if not for your little slip of the tongue. I would have simply remarked on the resemblance. For one thought so intelligent you're rather stupid, child. So what is it? Are you afraid I'll tell all? I imagine it would be quite the shock to your friend Potter. Weren't you rather good friends with his mother? Pity you didn't warn her of her fate."

"You're delusional," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "I merely came her to try to get information. I thought it might be beneficial for you to cooperate with me, but I see it was a waste of time. I'll leave now."

"Wouldn't you like to call Potter and the Weasley boy in here first?" he sneered. "Fill them in on our little adventure? Our ill-fated love? Or perhaps you wanted to finish what we started all those years ago. I'd be more than up for it. Don't worry, dear, the guards are discreet."

Obliviate! Hermione's wand stayed under the table as she silently cast the spell. Her memory charms were generally rather lackluster, but she thought it would work against a weakened Lucius, especially with the anger she felt behind it.

"Miss Granger?" Lucius said in a puzzled voice, and Hermione felt her first true sense of relief since she'd returned from 1977. "To what do I owe this... pleasure, is it?"

"Mr. Malfoy, forgive me," she said. "I just wanted to see what you looked like in Azkaban. I'm not a bit disappointed, although you should know the uniform does your complexion no favors."

"Why you little mudblood bitch," he spat. "I will -"

"Just on my way out," she said brightly, cutting him off. "I'll give your best to Draco, although you'll probably see him first. No doubt he'll be joining you soon." She rose from the table and strode out of the room, ignoring his curses and shouts. She greeted Harry and Ron with a big smile. "You were right, boys, big waste of time. Come on, I'll buy us lunch." Still smiling, she started toward the floo room, leaving her surprised friends to trail after her.