A/N: You people are fantastic! I'm totally surprised that the reactions to the first chapter are so strong. Thank you for that. I only hope I can keep up to your expectations...
Again, MrBenzedrine deserves one GIANT shout-out because she not only proofreads my works (and believe me, I'm making soooo many mistakes in this one specifically), but she also made truly magnificent fanart fitting for each new chapter. Check out fb or AO3 for that, please! Another shout-out goes to Kyonomiko and the Cabin Crew for endlessly encouraging me (the latter ones without knowing the rest of the story lol).

"The one and only," he says with a croaky voice that is only a shadow of their school days. "Do you come here often?" Hermione can't decide whether his giddiness is funny or a sign for hysteria.

"I take everything back. You must be a hallucination. The Draco Malfoy I knew never had an ounce of humour in his pale body." Suddenly, she grows eerily suspicious after the words leave her mouth. Too often, her mind has played her. Steve, at least, has been real. Harry, screaming at her for betraying him was not. Nor was Molly Weasley asking when she'd come around for dinner because everyone was waiting for her.

It is one of her theories that the regime is trying to make her cooperate by slipping some hallucinogens into her food or water. Good luck, you bastards. She won't be outdone by some low-level potioneers.

Blinking, she returns to the problem at hand. "How do I know you're real?"

His tone is bitter when he concludes,"Your brain must be even more fucked up than I thought if it's hallucinating me of all people you know."

The raw emotion in his voice makes Hermione reason aloud, "My brain is as I am: highly intelligent. So, I wouldn't wonder if it made up an adversary for me in means of not giving up. Draco Malfoy is an intelligent man and certainly was an adversary of mine at school. Thus, he would be a prime choice for my brain to construct as an hallucination. Or, if you are real, you could be a spy - albeit not a very good choice."

Draco is silent for a minute. Then, "I wish I could do anything to counter this logic of yours, but I'm afraid I can't." She snorts, but it turns into coughs.

Minutes - supposedly - trickle by without a word being spoken.

"Why are you here, Granger?"

Hermione, slowly beginning to accept the illusion or Draco being there for the benefit of having some entertainment at all, chuckles drily, "You know why. It isn't exactly a secret."

"Humour me," he demands, but there's an almost anxious hue to it.

"Why should I?"

"Because you're not the only one who has to have their mind tested if we ever get out of here."

That sounds perfectly reasonable. "I was arrested for disturbing the public peace and incitement of the masses."

"Protest against the Procreation and Marriage Law?" he concluded.

"Yup." Of course, he is correct; the name of the outrageous pact alone makes her hackles rise.

"You don't know what's good for you, Granger. You should have left England like the rest of your merry bunch." Harry and the Weasleys had turned their backs to Great Britain more than a year ago when things began to become uncomfortable. It wasn't exactly a secret, but only Hermione and some selected others know they settled down somewhere in Ireland. For safety reasons, no one knows of their exact position, not even roughly.

Now gallows humour seeps into the witch. "Oh, I know what's good for me. I just decided to ignore it."

"In their place, I'd slip something into your tea and take you with me, willing or not."

"Yes, you are that kind of person who would that." Strangely, her words aren't a lie at all.

"if you remember fifth year correctly, I've been on the receiving side of a joke like that courtesy of your friends."

She sees directly through his plan to assure either one of them that they were real. "Malfoy, you know that in case of a hallucination our minds would come up with a non-recorded information like the one you just presented me?"

He sighs, impatiently. Now that is something as Malfoy-ish as it gets. "On the other hand, I can't possibly begin to understand why you are here. Shouldn't you be planning a wedding?" After all, it had been all over the papers: 'Malfoy scion about to be married to Greengrass heiress! Perfect match according to the matching committee.'

"I refused to marry Astoria."

That really surprises Hermione. Even though Draco has stayed away from the public eye since the war, his family hasn't. Quite the opposite, really: Lucius Malfoy's is one of the names in the game for the next election of the Minister of Magic. And his son is, of course, to be expected to follow the choice of a wife the commission has made for him. Though, it still reeks of bribery that he has been paired with a pretty, pureblood witch from a Ministry compliant family. "Why?" Hermione wants to know, genuinely curious.

"Because she was in love with someone else." Probably-Draco sounds perfectly calm, as if there is only this possible answer to her question.

"Who?" Internally, Hermione chides herself. Even if this conversation is only in her head, she can do better than simple interrogative question particles. Though, she hasn't been able to have a thorough conversation with anyone in the past weeks.

"Pansy. I've known it for years. But Astoria's mother was not amused to have her family humiliated in that fashion, being let down by a Malfoy and all. And so some friendly officials knocked at my door. My father couldn't do anything lest he ruined his reputation." He stops, hurt evident in his words. And Hermione understands. "In the end, the court saw me as blood traitor, and I was convicted for high treason because I defied the natural order. I can come back when I see reason, though."

Another question tumbles from her mouth, "When did Draco Malfoy become so selfless?"

"I have nothing to lose anymore here," he explains, "but Astoria had so much to win, once she and Pansy have escaped. She slapped me when I told her what I had done - reminded me a lot of you, I have to admit. But she hugged me afterwards."

Hermione's laugh is honest and liberating. "I'd really hug you or any other remotely friendly person now, but I'm afraid I'm as muddy as your nickname for me."

"Don't do that." He's deadly serious now, intense as she has never heard him before. She starts to believe he is real. "That bullshit is how it started in the first place. Blood supremacy. Tradition over tolerance. Pride and purity over politeness. Hate over humility. I've seen your blood - it does the same as mine, carrying oxygen and magic." She shivers at the honesty in his words. Better late than never, right? Or was it only what her fragmented brain wanted to hear?

"You know that your behaviour is merely a late rebellion against your father, don't you?"

His laugh betrays the severity of their situation. "Trust Hermione Granger to psychoanalyze a fellow prisoner. And yes, I'm very aware of that. But, honest to the Founders, why didn't you go with Wonder Boy and his hoard of gingers, procreating with one of them?"

"You're willing to go to prison for Astoria, but you want me pregnant and barefoot in the Weasleys' kitchen? No, that's not me. For Harry and the others, the war was over when Voldemort died and his regime stumbled. They are content to have fulfilled their role, fought their fights. But mine isn't over. I've fought for humanity and equality in the wizarding world for too long as to give up now." She pauses, mulling over in her head. She wonders if she could trust him to spread out her thoughts in front of him. "There's more scheming behind this than only this blasted marriage law. It's the mechanics of deeming some people worthier than others, excluding those they don't need, which makes the new order so dangerous. Do you know they've stopped the inheritance of Galleons for Squibs? Do you know they're planning to test children before they are admitted to Hogwarts to see if they're magical adept or not? Minerva threw a fit over it, got sacked, and then she was banned to the Outer Hebrides." She hears Draco gasp - and she starts to believe he is real. Or rather, makes herself hope he is.

"You didn't know that? Well, it's not exactly in the papers these days, because they heavily censor every printed word, all in the sense of public peace." This ban of Minerva has been the ultimate point of no return for Hermione.

"How do you know it, then? Have you kept in contact with the old spinster?" His words are harsh but, having worked as an apprentice for her old Transfiguration Professor, she knows he donates huge sums for the library and school supplies every year.

She tells him about her position, and all he has to say is, "Teaching, Granger? Don't you think it's a bit cliché that the bookworm returns to her safe haven of knowledge?"

Hermione rolls her eyes, not caring if he can't see it. Rolling her eyes at Draco is normalcy. Normalcy is a treasure. "Yes, because Hogwarts was such a safe place for us during our schooling. I decided to teach because where better to start to educate the young generation, to prevent from a new war happening, if not at school?"

"You make it sound as if your tactics are no different from theirs. Influencing the young ones... "

"Fuck you." She chuckles because it's so damn ironic - and he's partly right.

So they keep talking.

Essentially, both of them are political prisoners. The new regime is trying to bend them to the political ways of power, planning to use them as powerful puppets once the've "see reason" (as they like to say during interrogations). It's ironic because who would have expected her to sit side by side in Azkaban with Draco fucking Malfoy while the world in which they've been on different poles of the spectrum crumbled around them.

Their world has been turned upside down and inside out, not even stopping at the wizarding prison. There aren't Dementors in the prison anymore, but that doesn't mean they treat them fair - quite the opposite, actually. With Dementors, you knew what to expect. Hermione had learned that as early as third year, but these wardens have wands. And the new regime prohibited the use of Crucio for them - in the sake of the public peace, of course.

So they sit here, both of them are exposed to various brainwashing techniques: environmental control, disgrace of identity and given a new one, rewards for wished behaviour - all to make them pliant, to break and bend them.

"I got to shave when I said that the Dark Lord had used intelligent techniques in controlling his followers," Draco admits about an hour later, ashamed and voice barely above a whisper.

But Hermione isn't swayed in her decision that she made in the past hour - the person on the other side of the stone wall is real and indeed Draco Malfoy. So, she throws him a bone. "I got a brush when I admitted to having had serious relationships with two purebloods, but they took it away when I stated that werewolves are as human as I am."

Instead of questioning which two purebloods she meant, he goes for an all-time favourite joke. "You hair must look even more a mess than usual, Granger." The world would keep turning if the ferret makes remarks about her head, right?