AN: Hey. So, I realised late that I made Neville the head of the justice department, but I would like to correct that and make Dean Thomas its head as it would fit much better with the story. Thanks, and Apologies. Another thing to note is that this is an AU, meaning don't assume anything. You might find some characters that in canon are in Azkaban aren't. On another note, happy for the reviews and follows. Thank you. If you have any suggestions, don't hesitate to leave a review or even PM me.

Chapter 12: Little Girl at the Justice Department

Courtroom 11, Ministry of Magic

Two weeks prior

11:00 hrs

"In my humble opinion, Mr. MacNair is as much a danger to himself as he is to others and Azkaban is probably not the best environment for his rehabilitation," explained the hazel-eyed psychoanalyst standing in the witness stand of one of the many courtrooms in the Ministry of Magic.

The man whose trial was being held couldn't resist a smirk coming on to his face at the conclusion of the Psychoanalyst's evaluation, knowing he'd escaped going to Azkaban by the scruff of his neck. He turned and smiled at the mudblood at the other end of the courtroom who thought could send him to prison.

Hermione was at her wit's end. She just couldn't fathom how a criminal of such calibre could essentially be let go free. He was simply going to be sent to Magik Asylum for the mentally disturbed, opened in honour of Lord Frank Longbottom and Lady Alice Longbottom in search for their cure, situated all the way in an all-wizarding neighbourhood where the lowest class lived, The Narrows, and also where many criminal activities occurred but many Aurors were afraid of going in. She refused to believe only criminals lived there as she knew they were only a minority but had reigned the area with fear and terror especially with the wizarding authorities choosing to turn a blind eye.

The judge of course ruled in favour of the defence that the man in question was not of right mind and sent him to the Asylum for "rehabilitation", she angrily gathered all the parchment spread across the desk assigned to the Prosecution and left the courtroom, choosing to wait for the Psychoanalyst to ambush him outside the courtroom.

Soon as she spotted him leaving with his briefcase in hand, taking long strides heading for the lifts at the ministry she called out for him, "Healer Crouch!"

As if he knew she had laid there in waiting, he stopped adopting a smile, letting her catch up to him.

"Miss Granger" he said with a nod before continuing to walk at a leisurely pace as they walked side by side.

"You really think a man that butchers wizards, witches, and muggles for the mob, and for his own amusement, doesn't belong in Azkaban prison?"

"I would hardly have testified to that in the witness stand otherwise, would I Miss Granger?" he retorted a dangerous glint in his eye.

She swiftly moved in front of him, blocking him from the lifts, and faced him: her high heels giving her the advantage of height.

Furious, she said, "This is the third of Zabini's thugs you've had declared insane and moved into your asylum."

"The work offered by organized crime must have an attraction to the insane," said Barty Crouch Jr more than done with the conversation, moving to the side, and heading for the doors that held the Floos instead.

"Or the corrupt!" said Hermione as she passed through the doors.

Cocking his head to the side as he saw the head of the Justice department in the room, he called out to him, "Mr. Thomas!"

"I think you should check with Miss Granger just what implications your office has authorized her to make. If any." Said the Mind Healer as he finally left Miss Granger's presence and heading to the Floo.

Recognising the threat for what it was, Dean Thomas the head of the Justice Department simply kept quiet, however shocked as he looked to the departing healer and back again to Hermione: wondering what it is she'd done to gain the older man's ire.

Going to Hermione's side, a warning look in his eyes not to pursue the older man that had just left, he asked her, "What are you doing?"

An affronted look, she asked him, "What are you doing, Dean?"

More than used to Hermione's hard stances, he wasn't fazed, but knew he had to discourage her from pursuing this further as it would only put her in danger.

"Looking out for you."

He grabbed her, pulling her to a secluded corner in the large hall used for Floo arrival.

"Zabini has more than half of the Ministry bought and paid for and has extended his reach even to the muggle world."

Continuing with his warning he put it as simply as he could, "Drop it."

Incensed, Hermione could not recognize the wizard before her, he was a… not wanting to say it out loud but the word reverberating in her mind… coward.

"How can you say that?" she asked, rage in her eyes.

"Because as much as I care about getting Zabini, I care more about you."

"That's sweet," she said, having occluded her mind in trying to calm down recognizing that the man was just looking out for her as he said, she went ahead to give him a small peck on the cheek.

Knowing she normally wouldn't be this petty, she couldn't resist a parting shot as she left.

"But we've been through all that already."

Zabini Hideout, Lower Part of the Narrows

20:00hrs

Few Hours Later

Sat in the surprisingly immaculate office of one of the most feared individuals in Britain, expensive cedar wood and rose wood all around the office, along with some priceless muggle paintings, but Barty Crouch had only eyes for the old man sat behind the desk.

"No more favours. Someone is sniffing around," said the healer, perfectly composed.

"Hey, I scratch your back, you scratch mine, Healer," retorted Zabini.

Allowing the one gold tooth in his mouth to appear he continued, "I'm bringing in the shipments."

Cracking the cold façade of the healer, Barty Crouch couldn't help an amused smile coming forth. Lightly squinting his eyes, he said a matter-of-factly, "We are paying you for that."

Moving his chair, a bit forward, Zabini said, "Maybe money isn't as interesting to me as favours."

Exasperated, Barty Crouch leaned back on his chair looking intently at the older wizard who did not flinch under the gaze of the quirky Healer.

"I am more than aware that you are not intimidated by me, Mr. Zabini. But you know who I'm working for and when he gets here–"

"—wait… wait… He's coming here?"

Both leaning forward on their chairs and staring straight into each other's eyes as if hoping to read the other's mind, Barty Crouch simply replied, "Yes he is."

Barty continued knowing he now had the older man's attention, like a predator in hiding he could see the fear in the man's eyes at the mention of his boss, with reason too he supposed.

"And when he gets here, he's not going to want to hear that you've endangered our entire operation just to get your thugs out of a little jail time."

Contemplative for a second, he thought he had an idea of just who was 'sniffing' around but asked to be certain.

"Who's bothering you?"

"There's a little girl at the Justice department."

"We'll buy her off…"

Chuckling at that idea, Barty replied, "Not this one."

Now knowing for sure that it had to be one of the mudbloods with a sense of right and wrong rather than a sense of survival, he thought he had a problem solver for that issue.

"Idealist, huh?"

Zabini continued saying, a blood thirsty smile gracing his face, "Well, there's an answer to that too."

Staring at the mafia boss, thinking to himself that he really thought the idea would bring the limelight on to their operation rather than rid themselves of the problem, he wondered why he had to work with the buffoon of a man but choosing not to voice his thoughts as he lived to obey HIM.

"I don't want to know."

Smugly, Zabini couldn't help but darkly say, "Yes you do."

Without so much as a by your leave, Barty stood up picking his briefcase and left the office of the mafia, not a single glance to the man.

PRESENT DAY

Wizarding section of The Docks

22:00 hrs

A loud pop was all the workers heard as they unloaded the containers full of Mr Zabini's special goods, the only thought in their heads being, we cannot be caught by the Aurors, the supervisor calmed the rest of his colleagues assuring them he was going to check on it and not to freak themselves out or apparate for Zabini would be extremely mad if anything went wrong.

Calm as a cucumber, he went to where he had heard the pop sound of an apparition, unknown to the workers the area they were in was packed with anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards meaning that whoever came in had to have been outside the wards.

A small sachet of the drugs in hand he walked in search of the party pooper, his wand ready to be drawn at a moment's notice.

As he walked around the ward line, all he knew was that it was silent, too silent… before, with no warning a gloved hand from behind appeared, covering his mouth, and suddenly found himself divested of his wand and the sachet, and let go.

Fearing the worst, he slowly turned finding himself staring at a hysterical man in Auror garments, laughing as though he had played a great prank on him.

Auror Dawlish had tears in his eyes at his moment of stealth and showing himself, that despite his recent weight gain in the years, he still had it.

Suddenly his face changed becoming serious, pointing to the teddy bear (that was stored the drugs) in hand, slowly removing a small pack of the drugs from the doll, he asked, "what is this?"

Pale, he couldn't imagine he'd been caught by an Auror, he could imagine the years in Azkaban that he'd be sentenced to, after all, he wasn't high enough in the hierarchy to be freed because of Zabini's influence.

Having had enough of a laugh with the man he could identify as the supervisor he'd been asked to liaison with, he laughed, throwing his hand onto the man's shoulders telling him to lead him to the shipment as he was here due to Zabini's orders.

A huge sigh of relief could be seen exhale from the supervisor at hearing that the Auror wasn't on duty but working with his boss, back to his calm self he led the older man to where the shipment was.