Rachel frowned down at her desk in her private office in the Wizengamot. She was trying to decide what research she should bring on her trip. She had her list of questions for each of the prisons. She'd done five rolls of parchment, one for each prison, that way she could easily compare the answers later. Hopefully the prisons would be willing to share things with her like schematics and ward structures.
Beyond that she had her various write ups and statistics on Azkaban, in case anyone asked for them, but she was a little embarrassed to share them with anyone. It was shameful what Britain was doing, and she didn't know if anyone really realized how bad it was.
"Is there anything else I should bring?" she asked Tonks, looking over her piles of parchment.
"Can't think of anything. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? There's still time to make arrangements."
"I'm okay. I will have Severus with me and I am also decently prepared to protect myself," Rachel said.
"I know you are. Your defense skills are good. And Severus is one of the most capable people I know. But there's still value in having an extra set of eyes," Tonks said.
"I really think we'll be alright. But thank you for offering."
"You're pretty serious about this Azkaban stuff."
"I am. I will make this work, somehow. I just hope these prisons have some ideas that we can use, because otherwise I'm going to be starting from scratch," Rachel said. She wasn't sure she was ready to brainstorm an entire prison.
"Why does it bother you so much?" Tonks asked.
"Because directing Dementors at people is a form of torture and the way that prisoners are treated is absolutely awful even discounting that. Anyone who says it isn't torture is welcome to spend a week in a cell in Azkaban to prove their point," she said firmly.
"You know, you're not like I expected you to be."
"I'm not?" Rachel asked, looking up from her list of things she needed to do before she left.
"I guess I've always seen you as someone who was careful not to make waves and that you're shy. This Azkaban thing is going to cause a lot of divisions and I didn't expect you to spearhead such a controversial proposal," Tonks said with a shrug.
"I am a little bit shy. I'm not very good with people I don't know. And I don't like to cause problems or get into arguments. But this is really important. I can't be part of a system that is doing this to people," she explained, feeling a little uncomfortable.
"And I can completely respect that. You believe in something and you're standing up and saying it and trying to change things for the better. That's a good thing." Tonks paused. "You're not planning on staying with the aurors once we're done with the Death Eaters, are you?"
"No, I'm not," she said, feeling that Tonks would understand.
"You know we're not going to catch them all? Some of them have fled. Others we don't even know who they are. We've captured a number of people we didn't even suspect of being Death Eaters and there are even more out there. Our goal here is to stop the attacks."
"I know." Rachel sat quietly for a moment. She didn't like to face that reality too often. "It's important to stop them. We have to catch them, because of what they did. We can't just let people who are willing to do that sort of thing walk around. Do you know about the Dark Lord's revels?"
"I've heard about them, during interrogations, but I've never seen the aftermath," Tonks said.
Rachel felt her shoulders hunching. "I've seen two. Who knows how many more happened." She pressed her lips together and took a few slow breaths through her nose. "I saw a lot of terrible things during the war. I'm sure you did too. At the time, it was just one more thing, and I didn't really deal with it. But I still remember it. I try not to think about it, but some nights it just sneaks in."
Tonks nodded. "Do you remember our conversation about Kingsley with PTSD?"
"I do. I was diagnosed with PTSD when I was still pretty young. Before the war even started."
"You're seeing a Mind Healer?" Tonks checked.
"I am. For seven years now. I kind of want to be done, but I know I'm not ready yet," she said. Torey was still really helpful, but Rachel wanted to reach the point where she could get through things without that level of support.
"I've been seeing a Mind Healer since July. Madam Bones contracted another Mind Healer for the MLE and had anyone who was involved in the battle at the Ministry see them. It's like you've said, I saw some awful things during the war. We had to shut down the Ministry for several days just to deal with the bodies. I know it's not exactly like what you've gone through, but I understand what it's like to have images and memories that won't go away and looking in the mirror and not recognizing yourself." Tonks paused and flashed her hair pink. "And not just because of this."
Rachel hadn't known that the mirror problem was that one other people had. She'd struggled with that since the end of her fifth year, but she'd found that it had gotten better in the past year or so. "It gets better. I know it's cliche, but it does get better."
"I know. I've felt that too. It takes time, and effort, but things are not as bad now as they were this summer."
Rachel nodded. "I want to stop this from happening again. I want to stop another war. Magical Britain has been involved in three wars in the past hundred years. That's crazy."
"Four. World War One had a magical component as well," Tonks said.
"That's another thing I need to fix," Rachel said with a scowl.
"What's that?" Tonks asked.
"History classes at Hogwarts. Our textbook only went to the 1800s and we didn't even get that far before our OWLs. How are people supposed to understand our nation and culture if we don't know what happened in it? We need a new History teacher."
"I'm not saying I disagree, but you can't fix everything," Tonks said.
"I can try," Rachel said. "But one thing at a time. Or maybe just a few things at a time."
Tonks smiled. "Well, if anyone can do the impossible, it's you. You've done the impossible a couple of times over already."
Rachel thought that was a good precedent to have. She could work with that.
"I've prepared a packet for each of your destinations. You have a portkey, two translation pendants, and a map of safe apparition locations in that city. The government of each country knows to expect you and you have arrival times on your itinerary," Madam Edgecome said, handing Rachel five large envelopes. "I suggest you put on your translation stones for your first destination before you depart."
"Thank you very much, we appreciate your help," Rachel said, opening the envelope marked 'Marseille'. Inside she found a ring on a gold chain, two pendants with blood red stones, a map, and a letter of introduction. She passed one of the pendants to Severus and put the other on. "Is there anything else I should know?"
"I don't believe so. I hope you find what you are looking for. Doing this sort of introduction early is a good idea if you want to join the ICW later on," Madam Edgecome said.
Rachel definitely did not want to do that. The Wizengamot was more than enough politics for her. "Thank you." She folded the envelopes and placed them into her cloak pocket, retaining the portkey. "Ready?" she asked Severus.
"When you are," he said.
"Thank you again," she told Madam Edgecome.
"No problem at all, dear. Have a good trip," Madam Edgecome said.
She offered the chain of the portkey to Severus. "To Marseille," she said when they were both holding on. She closed her eyes through the whirling sensation, thinking that if she didn't have so many other things to do she would invent a new method of long distance transportation.
Stumbling slightly when they landed, she managed to stay on her feet and found herself in an office not unlike the one they'd just left.
"Mademoiselle Snow?" a man in dark green robes asked.
"Yes, sir." Rachel pulled out the letter of invitation and handed it over.
The man looked it over and bowed to them. "Maistre Snape, I presume?"
"At your service," Severus said, bowing back.
"Welcome to the Gouvernement de la Magie République Française," he said. "I am Monsieur Lavinge. I am the head of the department of international relations."
"Thank you for meeting us," Rachel said, trying to draw on her almost non–existent store of knowledge of how to handle formal situations.
"Is there anything you need to begin your time with us?" he asked.
"Could you direct us to the magical quarter?" Severus asked when Rachel didn't speak right away.
"Of course. I will escort you from the Capitole and directly into the magical quarter," he told them. "Would you like a map?"
"Yes, please," Rachel said, even though she had one. She figured their map and the map she had might show different things and it never hurt to have more information. She took a glance at the map before pocketing it, seeing it was different from the one Madam Edgecome had given her.
"Our Premier Ministre Laurent has asked if you and your companion would dine with her tonight," Lavinge asked.
"We would be happy to," Rachel said, thankful that Severus had told her to pack dress robes. She'd only brought one dress with her, but she figured that people would only see her in it once.
"Excellent. Please return to the Capitole at seven and I will meet you to escort you to the dinner. Is there anything else I can do for you presently?"
"Not at this time," Rachel said after glancing to Severus and seeing a small head shake.
"As you wish. I will bring you to the entrance to the Capitole and you may make your journey from there. Please do not hesitate to ask for me if you need assistance while you are here," Lavinge told them, bowing once more before leading them out into a corridor.
Rachel looked around her as she walked. There were many portraits on the walls, which was interesting, because in the Ministry the walls typically were either bare or had landscape paintings or tapestries. Portraits were usually only found in offices. Lavinge led them down a large staircase and into a lobby that was filled with large windows, a huge chandelier and a number of people heading every which way, in and out of corridors and up and down other staircases.
"I will meet you here just before seven o'clock," Lavinge said once they reached the doorways.
"Thank you very much," Rachel said, feeling silly as she curtsied while he bowed.
They stepped outside the Capitole, went down the marble steps so they weren't in the way of traffic, and Rachel looked around. It was easy to see it was a magical area because the majority of people were in long cloaks rather than coats.
"Where do you wish to go? We still have some time before lunch or before we can check in at our hotel," Severus asked.
"I don't know," Rachel said, pulling out her maps. She was scheduled to go to the prison tomorrow at nine in the morning, but she was glad to have the day to acclimate. They would be portkeying out in the afternoon tomorrow, and then visiting the prison in Sweden the next day.
She held the map so that Severus could see it. "Is all of this the magical quarter then?" she asked. It was much bigger than Diagon Alley.
"Marseille is the traditional seat of magic in France. Beauxbatons is located here, though probably outside the outskirts of the city. There, you can see where the quarter exits into the muggle world," he said, pointing to a street at the edge of the map.
Rachel nodded and wished she'd thought to write to Fleur before coming. It would have been nice to see her again.
"If you'd like, we can just walk and take in the sights for a while," Severus offered.
"Sure. It looks like the Capitole is here, so we should be able to find our way back," Rachel said, noting it on the map. She pocketed both maps and was glad she'd decided to wear a light cloak. It was noticeably warmer in southern France.
They began walking and joined the general flow of foot traffic. The streets were much wider than Diagon Alley, though she saw similar shops, which she could mostly identify by what was in the windows. There was a large bookshop, which she would have liked to go in if the books were probably not in French, an apothecary nearby, and dozens of smaller shops, some of which she couldn't even guess at.
"I take it you do not have plans to pursue the ICW seat when Albus passes?" Severus asked.
"Definitely not. I already want to strangle half the Wizengamot, why would I voluntarily sign up for more of that?" Rachel asked, causing Severus to chuckle.
"You are somewhat of an anomaly in the Wizengamot and the Ministry. It will take some time for people to understand that you do not pursue power for power's sake."
Rachel shrugged. "They'll figure it out eventually."
"They will. In the meantime I think you are wise not to burn bridges unless it is absolutely necessary," he said as they turned a corner and went down another street.
"I'm trying not to," she said. She was surprised to see houses and tall apartment buildings in the magical quarter. From what she understood, while there were some towns and villages with a higher concentration of magical people, actual magical settlements within Britain were rare.
They continued to walk, Rachel's eyes feasting on all the different things there were to see. It was interesting that while some things seemed to be roughly the same, there were also differences. The facades on the buildings were more polished and uniform. There were small magical gardens. The people spoke in French around them - the translation stones wouldn't work unless the person who was speaking was directly in front of them or was the loudest and clearest voice in a room, but apart from some differences in the style and fabric of robes and cloaks they could have just as easily been back in Britain.
"Would you like to stop at a cafe for lunch?" Severus asked when they'd been walking for about two hours.
"Sure." She felt ready to sit down for a while anyway.
"After that, would you like to go into muggle Marseille?" he asked.
"Sure. Any ideas of what we should do there?"
"There are a few museums in the area, if you are interested; a history museum and an art museum," he suggested.
"I'd like that," she said. It was nice to be able to go out in public and not have to worry about anyone recognizing her.
"I believe we passed a cafe two streets back," he said.
"Sounds good," she said with a smile. Even though she was here for business, it was fun to explore just a little.
Rachel could feel that something was wrong. She'd changed from her dress robes into a nightgown. And then from nightgown back into trousers and a jumper. She kept looking around the hotel room, her eyes moving from the bed, to the open door to the bathroom, to the door that connected her room to Severus', and then to the door leading to the hallway.
It was after eleven o'clock. The dinner with the French magical Prime Minister had gone long. Rachel hoped that wasn't going to happen in every country she went to, but it was low on her list of worries at this particular moment.
She eyed the bed again, feeling her heart rate increase, and then got up to check all of the doors. She didn't feel like she was about to be attacked, this was something else. She peered out into the corridor, finding no one there, and then closed it and locked all of the locks. The bathroom was similarly empty, though for some reason she felt a flush of embarrassment when looking inside. She closed that door too. Then she went to the window, opening the curtains to peer out. The street was lit below, but there was no one there.
Finally she went to the door that connected her room with Severus' and knocked, hoping that she wasn't waking him.
The door opened a moment later and Rachel found that Severus had changed out of his dress robes and into a pair of black trousers and a casual button-up shirt. "Is something wrong?" he asked, looking her up and down.
She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find the words to express what was wrong. She hadn't felt this discombobulated since she'd had the Dark Lord in her head and hadn't been sure how much he was watching her. She felt watched.
"Come in," Severus said, standing back.
Feeling like a puppy with her tail between her legs, Rachel went into Severus' room, which was a mirror of her own.
"Sit," he told her, gesturing to the armchair and taking one of the chairs at the small table for himself.
She sat and pulled her feet up with her.
"I take it you are having difficulty feeling safe in an unfamiliar place?" he guessed.
Rachel looked down and ran the pad of her thumb across her fingernails. "I think it's because it's a hotel and I haven't been in a hotel since my uncle was taking me to one," she admitted, wishing she wasn't saying those words but feeling that they were true nevertheless.
"Ah. I hadn't realized that would be a problem," he said.
"I didn't either. I didn't even think about it when we were making arrangements. I don't think I can sleep here." She didn't think she could even bring herself to lay down on the bed.
"For the rest of the trip we can make arrangements to stay in flats or rental houses for a night instead of a hotel, but it might not be practical to move tonight," he said, ducking his head slightly as he tried to catch her gaze.
"Can we really do that?" she asked.
"Yes. We can ask the department of transportation where we can find other lodging. Do you think you would have the same problem with an inn as a hotel?" he asked.
Rachel considered that. "I suppose it would depend on what it looks like."
"We'll aim for a house or a flat then, and consider an inn as an option if we can't make those arrangements."
"Sorry," she said, hating that she was making this trip more difficult.
"No need to apologize. It's not surprising that you are having this difficulty, I should have anticipated it."
Rachel shook her head. How could he have anticipated it if she never even thought of it? "I can't believe Minister Laurent thanked me in front of everyone for ending the war. I hadn't realized that what I'd done was really well known outside of Britain." She had spent the evening smiling, curtsying, and giving a much more optimistic summation of Britain than she really felt. A number of people at the dinner had remarked on the end of the war and they all seemed aware of who she was. It was a little disconcerting.
"I imagine Western Europe was watching the situation in Britain closely. If the Dark Lord had succeeded there, Europe would have been his next stop after he stabilized the situation in Britain," Severus said.
"Do you think all of the people in the government that we meet are going to know who I am?" she asked.
"Yes, I do. Likely you won't have the same recognition in the streets as you do in Britain, but the people in government who are responsible for international affairs will know who you are."
Rachel fidgeted in her chair. "Do you think this was what it was like for Professor Dumbledore after he defeated Grindelwald?"
"Probably even more so, since the war had encompassed Western Europe."
"It's weird that I don't know how Professor Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald. Everyone seems to know what happened with me and the Dark Lord. But I've never found anything about that other than the fact that they dueled and Grindelwald lost."
"Well, the vast majority of people do not know the full truth about what happened between you and the Dark Lord," he reminded her. "I would have liked to have contained the story that you had died, but too many people knew."
She nodded. She would have preferred if people didn't know about that either.
"Also, you killed the Dark Lord in front of an audience," Severus continued. "Obviously I was not there at the defeat of Grindelwald, but from what I understand, no one was. It was a battle of elemental magic that flattened the area around Nurmengard. Albus was much stronger then than he is today. He was badly weakened by the curse on his hand. We are fortunate that he lasted as long in the battle against the Dark Lord as he did. I suspect that if he didn't have the Elixir of Life, that battle would have killed him."
"So no one knows what happened between Grindelwald and Professor Dumbledore because no one was there to witness it?" she asked.
"Yes. Albus led a push to Nurmengard, which at the time was Grindelwald's fortress, not his prison. They encountered Grindelwald's forces, the Alliance, they were called, at a small town they had occupied in the Alps. Grindelwald wasn't there, so Albus left his group to fight there and continued to Nurmengard. When what remained of Albus' group went looking for him, they found demolished mountains. There were many bodies found at Nurmengard, but no one knows whether they were already dead or if they died in that battle. By the time they arrived, Albus had already interred Grindelwald in his cell in the top tower. All Albus would say was that the battle was won at great cost and that their focus now needed to be on capturing the rest of the Alliance forces."
Rachel sat and pondered that. An elemental battle like that could easily kill bystanders. Maybe it was why Professor Dumbledore was so reluctant to kill now. "I think I know why it bothers me when people talk about me killing the Dark Lord like it was some great thing," she said after a long silence.
"Why is that?" he asked.
"Because out of everything that happened those three years, four if you want to include the Triwizard Tournament, it really didn't have all that much effect on me. Like receiving visions from him was much worse than that battle. Killing him feels like the least of what I went through. It doesn't feel to me like a triumph or a big thing. It just feels like I did something necessary. Out of everyone at those battles that Sunday, I had the easiest time."
Severus winced slightly. "It worries me that to you dying, returning, and then killing the Dark Lord is an easy time."
"Dying wasn't so bad. It hurt, but it really didn't bother me. I'm glad I got to see my parents. Just, everyone I talk to about those battles witnessed horrible things. I had nightmares for a few weeks about the dead, but it really didn't have that big of an impact on me," she said with a shrug.
"Which perhaps simply says how bad the rest of what you've gone through is," Severus said. "I wish I had done more. I was afraid to take you from Hogwarts. I was afraid I would have been leading us into a trap."
Rachel shook her head. "Hogwarts was the safest place from the war."
"Up until the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters showed up. While we were still in term."
"Up until then," she agreed. "And there was nothing you could do about the visions. Now that we know about the you-know-what, I don't think anything we could have done with mind magic would have blocked them."
"Unfortunately that is probably true. That does not stop me from wishing that I had better protected you," he said, bowing his head slightly.
She didn't think there really was anything he could have done. Even if they had left Hogwarts, the Dark Lord would have found them eventually. The way things had played out, with them finding the horcruxes in time to face him had probably been about as good as they could have managed, despite the massive loss of life. If the Ministry had gotten its head out of its ass sooner, well, that might have made a difference.
"How are you doing?" he asked. "Despite the topic of conversation, you look a little less distressed."
"Keeping my mind off of where we are helps. It's weird that the Dark Lord and the war is less upsetting than thinking about something from my childhood. It shouldn't be like that."
"You've dealt with the war and your childhood in different ways. At least during the war you had support from me and from your friends," he pointed out. "Having support can make a large difference in how you deal with something."
Rachel sighed. She knew that was true. She just wanted her childhood not to exist in her mind. She was an adult, she was very far away from all of that, and she was almost an entirely different person. "I need to do something about my manifestation. I do know that. I just…I keep pushing it further away. Now that it's not urgent because of my connection, I just…I don't want to deal with it."
"Is your manifestation bothering you?" Severus asked, raising his eyebrows.
"No. She's just still in that cupboard and I don't want her in there. I don't want that cupboard in my mind. I haven't really gone back in there in six months, even though I know I should."
"You should check on your mental architecture at least once a month to make sure nothing is amiss. Sometimes you can see signs in there that something is wrong before they begin to affect you outwardly."
She did know that. "I guess I just associate my mental architecture with the Dark Lord and I don't want to deal with it."
"You can work to overcome that association. It is your mind. It is sacrosanct. Just because your mind has been violated does not mean that you can't reclaim the space as your own. If you want to make changes to it so that it feels more like your own space, that is an option," he suggested.
Rachel remembered Sirius practically gutting Grimmauld Place so that he could live there. "It does feel like my own space. I don't think that's the problem. I just don't want to encounter my manifestation."
"You have the option of reforming your manifestation, though that would take a considerable amount of work on your part."
"Wouldn't that be like killing her?" she asked. She wasn't sure about the implications of murdering a version of herself as a child.
"No. And perhaps this is my fault for the way that we've been treating your manifestation. She is not a separate entity. She is a representation of you. She is more like your hand than she is a separate person. You may move your hand automatically to accomplish tasks, but your hand is not moving independently of you. Reforming her is not killing her, it is returning her to your subconsciousness and pulling something else out of your subconscious to act as a defender of your mind."
It still felt like killing her and Rachel didn't want to do that. She didn't like her manifestation, but she also felt weirdly protective of her. "I guess I'm just at the maximum amount of things I can handle right now."
"You do overschedule yourself," he agreed.
She didn't feel overscheduled. She just felt like she couldn't add anything else to what she was currently dealing with.
"You must make time to care for yourself, your body as well as your mind. I wish I had taught you that better as well."
"You did. I know. And I will deal with my manifestation and mental architecture. Right now is too soon though."
Severus nodded, though he still looked concerned. "At least check on your mental architecture monthly."
"I can do that," she agreed. It was better to do that then get caught by surprise with something going wrong again. "I'm going to study for a while and look over my questions for tomorrow. Maybe I'll think of something else I need to ask."
"Do you want company?" he asked.
Rachel looked around the hotel room and tried to decide if she'd be alright on her own. "I think I'm okay. As long as I'm focusing on something else, I think I'll be alright by myself."
"Alright. Please knock on my door if you wish for someone to sit with you. You will not be disturbing me. I also will not be sleeping well in an unfamiliar place," he told her.
"Okay. Thank you." Rachel returned to her own room and gave it another suspicious glance around before taking out her research and going to the small table. As long as she kept herself busy she thought she'd be okay.
"What would you like to see first, Mademoiselle Snow?" Warden Dumout asked.
"Do you have a pre-planned tour or is it just a little of everything?" Rachel asked, not really sure where she should even start. She hadn't seen all that much of Azkaban really and what she had seen had been more than enough.
"I hesitate to bring you into some sections of the prison. You are a young lady and some of the prisoners can be fairly crude," he said.
"Are the prisoners a threat to your guards?" Rachel asked, since that was certainly a point of interest to her.
"No, not at all. The guards are quite capable of dealing with the prisoners. If there is a fight, we stun them and bring them back to their cells. We've only had one guard injury in the past year," the warden said, sounding pleased. "I do not fear for your safety here in the prison, I simply do not wish for them to offend your sensibilities."
"I'm pretty hard to offend," Rachel said. "You allow your prisoners out of their cells?"
"Yes, of course. Why would we not?"
Rachel hesitated as she tried to come up with a reason why not. "I had assumed they'd be dangerous, I suppose."
"Most of them are not dangerous, especially not without wands. If someone is a danger to themselves or others, we place them on guarded seclusion," Warden Dumout said. "Is it not the same in your prisons?"
"It isn't, which is why I'm here. We are looking to modernize our prison system so that it is humane to the prisoners," Rachel said, once again feeling embarrassed about the conditions in Azkaban.
"Why don't we begin with our non-violent offender population then. I ask that you stay close to the guards. I can take you through both the men's wards and the women's wards, but as I said, you may draw comments from some of the men. Please stay close to myself and the guards."
"Of course, thank you," Rachel said. She hadn't even thought that they would need to segregate the sexes, but she supposed that made sense. It wasn't a problem in Azkaban because they weren't let out of their cells. She hadn't even considered the idea that they should be let out of their cells, but it made perfect sense if they weren't dangerous.
"We'll start with the women's ward," Dumount said, glancing at Severus and Rachel before leading them out of the room.
Rachel took a look at Severus and found him seeming pensive. Maybe he was having the same realizations that she was about exactly how bad Azkaban was even in just mundane ways.
Two more guards joined them, a man and a woman, and they went down a corridor and to a metal door.
"What are they doing?" Rachel asked, when one of the guards raised a medallion to the door.
"Double sets of locking doors. They require both a guard's medallion to open and a wand. All guards carry their wands, but only certain ones carry medallions. We account for the medallions at every shift change to ensure we have them all and they cannot be duplicated with a wand as they are all made by artifactors to interact with our ward scheme," Dumout explained.
Rachel nodded and hoped she could hold all of this in her head. She didn't have a good way to take notes. "Would you be willing to share your ward schemes and plans with the British government?"
"Not my decision, I'm afraid. You'll have to speak with the department of law enforcement at the Capitole for that," Dumout said as they went through another doorway into an open area.
"I understand." She might have to have Madam Bones help her negotiate to receive something like that. For now the knowledge that it was possible should be enough to move her arguments forward. She looked around the prison and was surprised to see very ordinary women moving about. They were wearing uniforms - grey trousers or skirts, and white blouses, with an open black robe over the top. They could easily be students at an upper level school.
"They've already had breakfast and some are at occupations for a shift. The ones here will take second shift," Dumout said.
"Occupations? You mean they work?" she asked.
"Nothing that requires a wand of course. They do most of the up-keep in the prison. They keep the prisoner areas clean, they do laundry, cook the food, and tend our apothecary farm and gardens," he said. "Are you ready to move forward?"
"Yes," Rachel said.
A few of the women glanced their way, but they most kept to themselves.
"What happens if a prisoner doesn't want to work?" Rachel asked.
"Then they aren't paid."
"They get paid?" Severus asked, echoing Rachel's surprise.
"Yes, yes of course. We don't keep slave labor," Dumout said with a now concerned glance at them.
"Do the French not keep House Elves?" Rachel asked.
"Some wealthy families do and institutions do, but the House Elves are provided for and paid. I had heard in Britain that most do not pay their House Elves?" Dumout asked, a hint of disapproval in his voice.
"I'm afraid they don't," Rachel said, reminding herself that she could tackle the House Elf problem after she tackled the prison problem.
"How long has that been the case?" Severus asked.
"Only the past twenty five years. Same with prisoner labor, actually. The reforms have been recent," Dumout admitted as they continued to slowly walk through the building.
"Are there records of how this was accomplished? What arguments they used and how they convinced people?" Rachel asked.
"I believe the records of the minutes for the National Assembly and the Magical Senate are public, though they will be in French. You would need help finding them and need someone to translate for you." Dumout came to a stop and looked at her. "You seem serious about bringing magical Britain into the modern era. Is that possible so close to a civil war about something as basic as magical heritage?"
"I don't know if it's possible," Rachel admitted. "But it will never happen if people aren't trying. Out of everyone, I seem to be in a position to try."
"Typically war leaders are not so eager to make changes, not unless they brought with them a new government," Dumout said, looking slightly skeptical.
"I wouldn't call myself a war leader. That would be Professor Dumbledore and Madam Bones and Minister Scrimgeour," Rachel said. "I was only a student during the war."
"It is said that the children will lead us, perhaps this is a case of that. You are very young, if I may say so," Dumout said. "I will admit surprise that you have taken an interest in prison systems. It is not a common course of study."
"It's necessary," Rachel said as she looked around again. She wondered if he knew how bad Azkaban was. "The way a society treats its vulnerable people says everything about them. I'm not sure most people would see prisoners as inherently vulnerable - they committed crimes to wind up here, sometimes very violent and dangerous crimes - but they are entirely at someone else's mercy."
"That is an interesting way of looking at it," Dumout said. "I'm not entirely certain I see my prisoners as being particularly vulnerable, but they are within my care and our task is to rehabilitate them and prepare them for return to society. Rehabilitation cannot begin if we are treating them like animals. It requires proper nutrition, education, job training, and access to the things that make them human. If you lock a person in a cage and treat them as an animal, they will respond as an animal. If you treat a person with dignity and respect, for the most part they will respond in kind. May we continue?"
"Yes, please," Rachel said. They began to walk again. "When you say education and job training, do you actually provide prisoners with that?"
"We do, to a certain extent. We do not provide magical training of any kind, because of the possibilities of misuse. It all depends on where the prisoner is at. For some it is a basic education, as about fifteen percent of our population comes to us illiterate. For others it is more advanced theoretical training in a field of their interest. For those who are interested, we train them in herbology and prepare them to work at apothecary farms, which is often work that can be done without training with a wand," he explained, leading them into a section of the prison that contained the cells.
They were one room cells, but they couldn't be more different than the cells at Azkaban. Each held a bed with wool blankets and a stack of pillows. There were decorations stuck to the walls. In some cells there were small shelves with books. In a few there were woven rugs next to the beds. Rachel looked and remembered seeing the prisoners hunched on the floor in Azkaban, too deep in their own distress to even notice her passing.
"How many of your prisoners are here for life?" Severus asked.
"Twelve percent. Our legal system does not favor life sentences except for in cases where it is clear the prisoner will do serious harm if released," Dumout said.
"How many prisoners die in your custody?" Rachel asked.
"Die?" Dumout asked, turning to her with wide eyes.
"Before their sentence is complete, I mean. Obviously the people with life sentences will die here," Rachel amended.
"Almost no one dies here. When our life sentences are elderly and need that type of care they are moved to the hospice. We also move prisoners who are suicide risks to receive hospital care. There are rare accidents, but generally no one dies here at the prison."
Rachel slowly exhaled as she thought of Leander and all of the other people who she knew were in Azkaban. She hadn't expected a prison tour to be quite this painful.
"How many prisoners are you currently holding?" Severus asked.
"We are the primary magical prison in France, though we do not house minors. We currently hold three hundred and twenty seven prisoners," Dumout said.
That was fairly close to what Azkaban held, which made sense given their countries' populations were of a similar size.
"What about breakouts?" Severus asked, sounding intrigued.
"Not since we moved to the new ward structure fifteen years ago. Visitors are required to leave behind their wands and are checked for enchanted or dangerous items before they are allowed to see the prisoners. We keep the visiting area in an entirely different section and everything is strictly regimented," he explained.
Visitors. They allowed the prisoners to receive visitors. Rachel thought how much that would mean to Pansy to be able to see her mother again. She exhaled. "Thank you for showing us."
"Yes. Happy to be of service. Would you like to continue the tour?"
"Yes, please." She felt her eyes had been opened to so many possibilities and she was eager to see more. If she could bring this home with her and convince people it could work, it could change a great deal.
Severus trailed slightly behind Rachel, keeping a careful watch on the prisoners. It had surprised him, but in each of the prisons they'd gone to so far, the prisoners were allowed to roam. It had also surprised him that the prisoners had generally not bothered them. The guards and the warden had gotten a few calls, and Rachel had gotten plenty of confused and curious looks, but no one had been unusually disrespectful.
Perhaps it shouldn't have surprised him, but Rachel seemed more comfortable visiting the prisons than she did at the governmental dinners that they attended. She spoke eagerly with the warden and the guards, asking questions and getting information. He was proud of her. He could still remember her as a timid child who had difficulty with speaking to anyone, and now she was here interviewing people and getting information that she needed for her project.
The dinners were awkward affairs and he could see why Rachel was uncomfortable there. It was clear that everyone had expectations of Rachel, probably more so in Britain than internationally. He'd watched as they'd cautiously talked around the subject of the ICW, trying to find out if Rachel intended to run for the British seat when Albus died. Undoubtedly they'd much rather deal with her than with Albus.
He also watched as people continually underestimated Rachel. Despite her achievements and current roles, people saw her appearance as a young girl who had not quite reached adulthood and responded accordingly. They were respectful - as they would be to any young person who would gain their family's powerful position - but they were also indulgent and dismissive. They asked about her interest in the prisons and she spoke clearly of reform, but they nodded and continued on with the conversation as if she were being silly. Severus expected she'd get that response from some of the Wizengamot as well. People wouldn't start taking Rachel seriously in the Wizengamot until she proved that she had the votes to pass things. Fortunately, Severus expected she would amass that in short order.
"What are your rules about the public areas?" Rachel asked the warden as they continued to walk through the prison.
Severus listened absently as the warden explained day to day life within the confines of the prison. Each of the prisons had small differences. In Sweden the cells were actual rooms to give the prisoners privacy. In a number of the prisons the prisoners had been responsible for at least some of the upkeep of the prison. Some of the prisons required uniforms while others allowed a more personal style of dress. They'd been to four so far. This evening they were going to Spain and then tomorrow they would tour the prison in Madrid. They'd be home the following day.
As they traveled he'd managed to make alternative lodging arrangements for them. Rachel had seemed much more comfortable inside a flat, though twice they'd had to leave the local magical settlement in order to find different accommodations. Severus did not mind that. Both of them had enough experience with muggles that they could manage in a muggle area. After they visited a prison, they typically took lunch in a cafe or a restaurant while Rachel took notes on what she'd learned at that prison.
She seemed optimistic that she could convince the Wizengamot that the way Azkaban was run was not the way things should be done. Severus was less certain about that; the Wizengamot often was entrenched in the ways of the past. He also hadn't expected Rachel to immediately begin to try to make changes in the Wizengamot, but he knew very well that once she got an idea in her head of what she needed to do it was hard to restrain her. What was clear, given that each warden had indicated that their prisons were near escape proof, was that Azkaban and the Dementors were not the only answer to the dilemma of keeping magical prisoners.
"What do you do with prisoners who are experienced in wandless magic?" Rachel asked as they transitioned through a set of doors into another section of the prison.
Severus turned his attention to the warden, also curious about the answer.
"That's very rare, typically only the most powerful of witches and wizards can do more than a handful of spells wandlessly, and even then they're limited in what spells they can do."
Rachel looked uncomfortable. "Locking and Unlocking charms are some of the more easy spells to learn wandlessly."
"That's true, but we don't use a basic Locking charm on anything here. We've never run into the issue," the warden said.
Rachel frowned down at her hands briefly and Severus made a mental note to ask about how her wandless magic was coming once they were alone. He knew she was uncomfortable with the idea that she was uncommonly magically powerful, but he did not know how to increase her comfort in that area. The truth was that she needed to be careful with it. She couldn't walk around doing wandless magic, at least not more than a handful of the more common spells with it. He would still like to see her learn elemental magic, but that could wait until she was ready and until they found an appropriate teacher.
Severus eyed a few prisoners that wandered closer, but they only spoke with one of the guards briefly, their gazes curiously wandering to Rachel. He couldn't exactly blame them for being curious. Having people tour through must be uncommon and Rachel still looked young enough to be in school rather than on the Wizengamot.
"Would you like to speak with them?" the warden asked Rachel.
"Yes, please," Rachel said, tilting her head up to meet the prisoners' eyes. "How do you feel about conditions in the prison?"
The prisoners glanced at each other and one shrugged. "Good. Could use better food," one said, the other nodding.
"What could be better about it?" Rachel pressed.
"We get the same meals every week. Could use something different," the other prisoner said.
"Labskaus, we don't get labskaus," the first one said.
"I'll take it under advisement," the warden said dryly.
"Do you feel safe in the prison?" Rachel asked.
"Safer in here than out there," the second prisoner said.
"There are groups, but we watch each other's backs," the first prisoner agreed.
"Violence among the prisoners is relatively rare. There have only been five incidents in the past year," the warden said.
"That you see," the first prisoner said.
"We encourage any prisoner who has witnessed or experienced violence to come to us," the warden said steadily.
The prisoners exchanged looks again and Severus discovered that the look for 'yeah right' was common across cultures.
"Is there anything that you would want improved?" Rachel asked.
"Music," the second prisoner said. "I haven't heard music in years."
Rachel nodded, looking sad.
"Thank you for your time, gentlemen," the warden said.
The prisoners moved on and their tour continued.
Severus resumed walking behind Rachel, keeping a close eye out for anyone approaching them, but he was less concerned after that conversation. If the prisoners' concerns were specific meals and not listening to music, then things were relatively good inside the prison. It was a far cry from Azkaban, but he supposed that was Rachel's point.
He was keenly aware that given the things that he'd done, he should be spending life in prison. He had killed people. He had committed acts of torture. It galled him that it was Albus' protection that had kept him from being imprisoned. He hated being indebted to Albus in any form, especially now.
It sat in the back of his mind that Albus was still taking the Elixir of Life. Severus had made the assumption that Albus had done so in order to stay alive through the war, but now he couldn't help but wonder what was stopping him from taking it indefinitely. Albus still had another twenty years or so before he reached the common life span for a wizard. Severus supposed he couldn't begrudge him for wanting to live for that long. Another possibility was that Albus was staying to ensure a smooth transition after the war. And, of course, there was the possibility that he simply intended to live for another century or more, but it would be less than fifty years before people started noting his longer life span.
As with all things, Severus supposed he'd have to simply watch and see what happened. For now he had the truth in his back pocket. He could wait to see what to do with it.
About an hour later they left the prison.
"Do you want lunch?" he asked.
"Yes, please," she said, checking her watch. "We still have two hours before our portkey and I need to make some notes."
"Back to the magical quarter?" he checked.
"Magical or muggle, I don't care. Just somewhere we can sit down."
Severus decided she'd attract less attention making notes with a quill and parchment in the magical quarter. "I'll take us back to the area around the magical parliament and we can look for a place to eat." He'd been side-along apparating her so they didn't get separated in an unfamiliar place.
"Sounds good," Rachel said, turning to him. "This has been really good, I think. Don't you?"
"It's certainly been interesting," Severus said, taking her arm. While he did not feel a particular need to tour magical prisons, he was glad for this time with Rachel. He'd take all the time he could get with her.
Freshly showered and dressed, and more than a little fatigued, Rachel returned to her bedroom on Sunday afternoon. She'd already unpacked and she'd put all of her notes on her desk so that she could review them further.
"Meow."
She looked down. "I know, I'm sorry." Feverfew had been very unhappy with her ever since she'd returned an hour ago. "Do you want to be picked up?"
Feverfew meowed again and jumped up onto the bed and waited, which meant she did want to be picked up.
Rachel picked her up and gently placed her against her shoulder like she would hold a baby. "There you go. It will be alright. I'm not planning on traveling again any time in the near future. And I know Millie took good care of you."
Feverfew settled against her but otherwise didn't respond, which meant she was still angry. Rachel figured she'd get over it in a few days. Carrying the cat, she went downstairs and found her friends in the sitting room.
"See, I told you she'd be back," Millie said to Feverfew.
Feverfew ignored her too, pressing closer against Rachel's chest.
"I suppose I don't have to ask how she behaved," Rachel said, sitting down next to Neville, her arms still around her cat.
"She missed you," Hermione said. "She kept coming into the sitting room and demanding to know why you weren't here."
"By demanding, she means your cat meowed loudly and walked around and wouldn't let anyone sit with her. She whacked Millie a few times for trying," Draco said.
"Feverfew," Rachel lightly scolded. "We talked about this before I left."
"You really think she understands?" Theo asked.
"She understands enough to know better," Rachel said, looking down at Feverfew. Her cat neatly avoided her gaze.
"How was your trip?" Neville asked.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Draco added.
"It was a good trip. I took plenty of photos, so I'll show you them when I've developed them. I didn't get to take photos in the prisons, unfortunately. I wish I could have, but I suppose I'll have to find a way to describe what I saw instead."
"What were the prisons like? Anything like Azkaban?" Millie asked.
"Not at all. It was amazing. The prisoners were allowed out of their cells. Many of them had jobs. Some of them were receiving an education," Rachel said. She'd been thoroughly impressed by what she'd seen - and ashamed of Britain's current system.
"And that's safe? They just let them walk around?" Draco asked.
"Not everyone. There were some people who they referred to as high security who weren't allowed to walk around. But each prison had different locking mechanisms on their doors, many of them requiring both a wand and something else to pass. They said they hadn't had difficulties with anyone using wandless magic, which I found surprising. I would have thought that would have been a much bigger problem," she said.
"People who can do wandless magic are rare, even those who can only do a few spells," Theo said. "People who can do what you can do are almost non-existent."
Rachel flushed. "I hadn't realized anyone had noticed."
"Noticed? I'm insanely jealous. I still can't get any of it to work for me," Hermione said.
"How many spells do you know now wandlessly?" Draco asked.
She blushed even harder. "I've lost count. Not a lot. Not nearly as many as we know with a wand of course, and no transfigurations or anything like that. I'm hesitant to try more combat magic wandlessly."
"I think you should," Theo said, Millie nodding beside him.
"I agree. You never know when you might have your wand taken from you. It's better to know what you can do than to have to experiment in the moment and have it go disastrously wrong," Draco said.
"You have some options open to you," Theo said. "I can see why you'd want to keep it a secret, but revealing what you can do would cement yourself even further as the next magical leader of Britain."
"And I definitely don't want that," Rachel said.
"You say that you don't want that, but look at the things that you want to do," Hermione said, raising her eyebrows. "You want to make major changes - for the better, I think - but in order to do that you'll need to lead people in that direction."
"No one is suggesting your run for Minister, even though you could probably have the position if you wanted it. But you're sort of the magical successor to Professor Dumbledore. You want people to have confidence in that," Theo said.
"I can understand why it's uncomfortable," Neville said, looking sheepish. "You never really get a chance to be ordinary."
Rachel sighed. "I had dinners with a bunch of the leaders of the governments in the countries we went to. In every one, they were probing, trying to find out if I was going to take Professor Dumbledore's seat in the ICW when the time comes."
"It wouldn't be a terrible idea. I could think of much worse candidates," Draco said.
"I can think of a lot of worse candidates, but I know you don't want that sort of pressure on you," Millie said with a small smile.
"I don't. I want to play Quidditch and brew potions and fix things in the Wizengamot."
"And hunt Death Eaters," Draco added.
"And stop the Death Eaters," Rachel rephrased. They weren't hunting the Death Eaters, they were protecting people from them.
"That's a pretty full schedule," Theo said. "I just don't think you should close doors for yourself. You wanted the opportunity to change things, we talked about it a lot at Hogwarts, what we would change if we could, but now you're getting that opportunity and I think you should seriously consider the tools you have that are available to you."
"Some of the biggest problems I don't know how to fix. I kind of latched onto the Azkaban thing because it seems like something with a solution, and a relatively easy one if we can make people see that it will work. It would have the immediate effect of saving lives, but it's not the really important thing," Rachel said.
"What is the really important thing?" Neville asked.
"Fixing the divide in our culture between purebloods and muggleborns and muggles. There have been four wars in Britain in the last hundred years. That's every single generation for the last four generations going to war over some facet of this issue. I don't want that for the future of Britain. I don't want that for our children."
"It sounds like a lot when you put it like that," Theo said.
"No wonder magical Britain has such a problem with its declining population and the level of magical inheritance," Hermione said. "War tends to take the strongest of each generation, and even those who survive carry their traumas into the next generation. You can't keep a country united and solvent if you're going to war every quarter of a century, not when our population is this small already. At some point you run out of people who are willing to either stay or to breed."
"I know some muggleborns and their families chose not to come back after they were evacuated. I can't blame them," Neville said.
"So what do we do about it?" Draco asked. "The things Dumbledore is trying to pass in the Wizengamot right now are a bandage if they're anything and they can easily be repealed by the next Wizengamot who disagrees with them."
"I don't think it's a matter of laws," Millie said. "I don't think the government can instruct people to think better of muggles and muggleborns."
"No, but it's necessary that laws are in place to prevent people from hurting them or from discriminating against them," Hermione said, looking unhappy as she pushed her hair away from her face. "Though, I will admit, laws can't stop discrimination, not the little stuff at least."
"So what do we do?" Draco asked again when no one spoke.
"Same thing we did with you, I suppose. How do you feel about muggles and muggleborns, Draco?" Hermione asked.
Draco blinked as he looked around. "I don't understand them," he finally said. "I don't understand the things that they do or some of the things that they say. A lot of what is on the television is just nonsense to me. But they're not as different as I thought they were. They can do more things than I thought they could. And apart from you not knowing some things, I don't see that you're really that different from me."
Hermione smiled. "Exactly. We're really not that different. We have a different cultural heritage and understanding. I'm still learning yours and you're still learning mine, and that's okay. Now if we could just show that to everyone else, we'd be all set."
"Better Muggle Studies classes and making it a required course would be a good step," Millie suggested.
"And having a magical cultural class for muggleborns might help them as well," Theo added. "An exchange, of sorts."
"And a place where muggleborns can ask questions without being made to feel stupid for not knowing basic things," Hermione said.
"We didn't make you feel stupid, did we, Hermione?" Neville asked.
"No, never. Just the looks I'd get from other people sometimes, especially in our first few years," Hermione said.
Rachel sat and pondered all this. Education and cultural exchange was definitely part of it, but there was more to it than that, and she didn't know what the answer was. She supposed they were supposed to take the steps they knew about and then add more to it as they discovered more things.
"Are you going home for dinner tonight, Rachel?" Theo asked.
"No, I think Severus needs a break," Rachel said. She also needed a break.
"Oh, I was supposed to tell you, Sirius wants us for dinner next Saturday," Draco said. "He said anyone who wants to come can come."
"We can do that," Rachel said. She slowly lowered Feverfew onto her lap. "You're heavy, I've got to put you down."
Feverfew meowed in complaint but curled up into a ball on Rachel's lap.
"Tell us more about your trip," Millie said.
"Yeah, I want to hear about the different places," Neville said.
"Sure. We went to a few museums," she said, deciding to start at the beginning and work her way from there. It had been an eventful week.