THE AFTER
Alexia Riddle
Summary:
"But the truth is, most monsters walk among us, Hermione. And they don't bear marks."
Hermione is tasked with investigating reports of abuse at Azkaban. She will turn to Draco Malfoy, who has just served his sentence, falling in love with the blonde, in the process of saving him from his own darkness.
Drama, suspense, and romance intertwine in this dark tale to expose the lights and shadows of human nature.
DARK DRAMIONE, POST-HOGWARTS. ROMANCE, EXPLICIT SEX, AND SENSITIVE THEMES.
WARNING: First of all, I want to warn you that my native language is Spanish, so my English is not perfect. I do the best I can.
Characters are from Harry Potter, thanks to J.K. Rowling. I only use her characters for my entertainment.
Chapter 1: AZKABAN Chapter Text
"Let us consider that virtue,
knowledge, and a love of freedom are the qualities
that unleash the inquisitors' fatal vengeance."
- DAVID HUME
Hermione took the burnt coffee cup from the hands of the young, overly made-up waitress. The woman gave her a hostile look, which she had been giving her since Hermione suggested replacing the unwelcoming cafeteria of the Ministry with vending machines. Hermione believed that vending machines were a more cost-effective, faster, and better source of coffee than the one brewed by the girl. However, the affected waitress disagreed, considering efficiency and quality inferior to job security.
Unfortunately, Hermione's proposal was not well-received, so she had to cut back on her coffee purchases. But on that day, she needed the extra caffeine.
"Thank you," she said with a forced smile as the girl grumbled and gestured for Hermione to move aside for the next customer.
As Hermione searched the nearby counter for a spoon to stir the bitter concoction she hoped would wake her up, she pondered that she had not gained widespread appreciation for her heroism in the war. She wasn't expecting people to ask for autographs or make it easier for her to get a position in the Department for the Defense of Magical Rights. However, a simple smile in return after buying coffee would have been a minimal reward for risking her life and sporting a horrendous scar on her forearm.
She was about to cast an anti-spill charm on her coffee to start her journey back to her office. However, her gaze stopped at the front page of "The Prophet" in the window. The headline "Six Months in Azkaban for Son of Death Eater" caught her attention. This wasn't unusual as three years after the end of the war, long-delayed convictions for various reasons were still being resolved. But, the subtitle in small letters clarified that Theodore Nott received those six months for carrying an unauthorized Time-Turner. Hermione felt that it had nothing to do with the headline. As far as she knew, Nott never took the Dark Mark or participated in the war. Therefore, she believed he didn't deserve a headline like that.
But if there was one thing she had learned in her six months at the Ministry of Magic, it was that it didn't matter in the eyes of the Wizengamot, the press, or even the public opinion whether those involved in the war deserved the punishments imposed on them or not.
Although some inefficiencies and prejudices had been overcome since Kingsley Shacklebolt became the head of the organization, the dispensers of justice still prioritized quick results over evidence, which led to questionable convictions in some cases.
One of Shacklebolt's achievements had been to remove Dementors from Azkaban and establish a more humane prison system within the facility, run by Aurors assisted by guards and staff to provide a more humane stay for those serving sentences. But occasionally, alarms still sounded about inappropriate treatment, violations of fundamental rights, and questionable practices among the facility's leaders.
They replaced a system that drained happiness with one controlled by human interests. Hermione sought to determine which was worse.
"Nott won't survive a month in there," someone in the elevator said. Hermione avoided turning to show interest.
"Borgin said he's a handsome guy with a brainy look," the man chuckled mockingly. "It doesn't look good for him."
"That's what scum like him deserves," the other replied. Hermione's grip on the coffee cup threatened to shatter it. "Damn, privileged..."
"As far as I know, he has not been accused of being a Death Eater," she interjected without turning her head. She hadn't interacted with Nott much during her time at Hogwarts, but she couldn't stand any form of prejudice. "It's quite concerning to see Ministry members celebrating the existence of abuses in Azkaban when they should be working to prevent them," she added, taking a sip of her coffee and trying not to gag at the bitter taste.
Thankfully, the elevator doors opened that moment, and she quickly seized the opportunity to leave, avoiding any unpleasant conversations with the supposedly honourable officials she had left behind.
"WOHOO! Are you okay?" McLaggen asked as he collided with her. Hermione dropped the coffee cup onto the floor in the impact, which would have caused a horrible mess without the anti-spill charm. "You seem unusually angry, Granger."
Hermione snorted and bent down to pick up the coffee from the floor, shaking her head in response before continuing. Of all the people she could have worked with at the Ministry, Cormac McLaggen was the most useless, in her opinion. But there he was, with his arrogant expression and golden curls, smiling foolishly at the most inconvenient times.
When Hermione managed to navigate the ten-meter hallway that separated her from her office without further interruptions, she stood still for several seconds, leaning against the door she had just closed, deep in thought.
"Is something wrong?" Hestia Oleander asked from her desk across from Hermione.
She was a tall, blonde, and slender woman, not much older than Hermione, but more made-up and better-groomed despite being the mother of two children and constantly claiming not to have time for anything.
Not even for work , Hermione thought, biting her tongue.
Hestia was transferred to Hermione's department for a few months as the second and final team member. The program aimed at defending the fundamental rights of wizards and magical creatures was not highly rated among the public, which meant that the department had no budget available for hiring more people.
"I had an unpleasant conversation in the elevator," she replied. Hestia adjusted her metallic pink glasses on the bridge of her nose and resumed her enjoyable task of filing her nails while pretending to review a document in the folder Hermione had asked her to point that morning.
"Any response from the Department of Regulation?" Hermion asked, sitting at her desk and making another disgusted face after taking a second sip of her horrendous coffee.
Hestia blinked a couple of times.
"Oh, yes... the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," she said, apparently pleased to finally understand what Hermione meant. "No... there hasn't been a response yet."
This time, Hermione blinked, considering the idea of being a one-person department again, but the bald and dark-haired head of the Minister for Magic poking through the door halted her thoughts.
"Hermione," the man's brown eyes inspected Hestia's face with an indifferent cordiality before settling on her, "can we talk?"
- HP -
Despite expectations, the Prime Minister's office was not grand or lavish. Instead, it was a functional area with a spacious desk, a bookshelf, four chairs, and a sofa. The entrance was protected by an efficient secretary who made excellent coffee, unlike Hermione's colleague.
Sitting across from the man's desk, Hermione squeezed the cup between her hands, bringing it to her face to savour the aroma. She didn't miss the disgusting coffee that must be getting cold in her office.
Kingsley finished pouring milk into his cup and leaned on the desk, his legs relaxed and his body partially inclined toward her. His eyes conveyed respect, which Hermione believed was not due to any particularly outstanding achievement in her short career at the Ministry but rather the recognition that Kingsley seemed to have for her, a mention of a very similar nature. Both were passionate about defending what they believed was right and could work tirelessly for it.
"How is the voluntary release program for House Elves going?" he suddenly asked.
Although Hermione knew she hadn't been brought to his office to discuss House Elves, she responded cordially to her limited progress. She hoped the campaign they had started through "The Sophist" would yield better results.
Kingsley nodded, took another sip of coffee, and cleared his throat, a signal he used when he wanted to discuss something serious.
"I want you to know that I've always had the highest regard for you," he began. Hermione put the cup down on the desk to avoid distractions. "And for that reason, I would never think less of you if you refused a challenge for personal reasons."
"You can be sure that I am professional enough to put personal matters aside," she hurried to say, intrigued about the conversation's direction.
"I don't doubt that. However, if you were to reject what I'm about to propose, I would understand, find someone else, and never mention to anyone that I asked you first."
"Alright..." Hermione took a deep breath, waiting for him to speak, but seconds passed without the man saying anything more. "What is it?"
"My goal has always been not to repeat past mistakes and to seek unity among wizards and witches, regardless of their parentage or which side they took in the war."
"I know. Part of it was your policy to reduce sentences for those who participated on the wrong side and improve conditions at Azkaban. Resorting to exemplary punishments would have us creating new resentments and maintaining the divide," she said, taking a breath, trying to make him fully understand that she understood.
"Maybe it's not a popular measure, but I agree with you that it's the best in the long run," she continued.
"That's the intention," he smiled, though sadness showed in his eyes. "But have the conditions at Azkaban truly improved?"
Hermione remained silent, wondering if he was aware of their heated conversation in the elevator that morning and if that was why he talked to her.
"We constantly receive complaints and letters from families and friends of those serving sentences, reporting irregularities and mistreatment that we didn't have with the Dementors," he said sadly. "Some even call for those monsters to come back."
Hermione was aware of the reports, which reached the Ministry and "The Prophet," which were used as news to discredit Shacklebolt's measures. There were rumours of torture, improper use of punishments, and extortion.
"We've been investigating," Kingsley continued. "We haven't found any evidence to expose these irregularities. But there are unusual money movements in the accounts of guards and Aurors at Gringotts and anonymous testimonies about mistreatment happening right under our noses. The only official willing to testify and provide names mysteriously disappeared before doing so."
Hermione listened intently, holding her breath as she recalled the man's words in the elevator. "Nott won't survive a month," he had said. The situation was public knowledge, but no one could prove anything.
"What do you need from me?" she asked, not hiding her doubt. Investigating what was happening seemed more like a job for Aurors than for her.
"As the Secretary to the Muggle Prime Minister, I learned about their prison system and tried to emulate it. I forgot that they also have mechanisms to control the use of power.
"The Department that best suits that role is yours, Hermione," he smiled, hoping for her understanding. "And I also think you might be the most suitable person to ensure that imprisonment is the only punishment to be endured at Azkaban."
"A handsome guy" , she echoed, recalling the Auror's words. "It doesn't look good for him."
"But I can understand if you have your reasons to..."
"I'll do it," Hermione said before he could finish.
Kingsley's smile showed his approval.
-HP-
"Won't you feel uncomfortable defending Death Eaters?" Ron asked. Harry, beside him, adjusted his glasses on his nose, lost in thought.
"I'm not defending Death Eaters, Ron. I'm not an advocate," she tried to explain. "My department's role is to ensure that there are no law violations in how Azkaban prisoners are treated."
"But you'll be defending Death Eaters..." Ron continued, his disbelief undiminished.
Hermione then remembered why her brief romance with the redhead had ended shortly after it started. They were great friends; she knew she could always count on him. But in a romantic relationship, you need more than support and affection. She sought mutual understanding, common goals, and a partner to discuss things other than Quidditch or the desserts available in the cafeteria that morning.
"Imagine if you have to defend Malfoy!" Ron continued, with some of the
burgers he ate escaping his mouth.
Cute , Hermione thought, but definitely not very sexy.
"Malfoy is not in Azkaban anymore," Harry declared. "He completed his sentence over a year ago."
Parvati informed Hermione in one of the girls' gatherings, where they sometimes discussed whether or not Malfoy should appear as a coveted single wizard in "Witch Weekly." In Parvati's opinion, he might be a former Death Eater, but one with a lot of money in Gringotts. Hannah Abbott mentioned that he was also handsome, and Hermione was surprised that no one contradicted her.
"Not Malfoy then..." Ron continued. "but there are others, just as bad or worse, in there."
"Theodore Nott is not there as a Death Eater but for possessing an unregistered Time-Turner," Hermione explained, but Ron didn't seem to grasp the point and changed the subject.
Harry accompanied her home that night. Ginny was out of town in the middle of the training season, hoping to qualify for the Wimbourne Wasps, and according to her boyfriend, she had a good chance of making it.
"How's the Auror Academy going?" Hermione asked suddenly. Harry walked beside her, hands in his pockets, lost in silence. Although he had completed the traditional Auror training, the Boy Who Lived had decided to extend it to improve his knowledge of dark arts. Her friend would never stop preparing to defend the world.
"Not bad," he replied calmly, just as they reached the entrance of the building where Hermione had her flat. She invited him in, but Harry declined politely, adjusting his glasses on his nose and letting out a long sigh. He was about to say something that had undoubtedly taken him a long time to put into words.
"Regarding the Defender role you're taking," he began. "There have been reports of irregularities at Azkaban for a long time. Everyone knows they exist, and I think it's about time the Ministry did something about it." He took another breath. "I'm glad it's you, Hermione because that gives hope that things will change." And he smiled.
Hermione couldn't help but give him a hug.
-HP-
In the list of Azkaban prisoners handed to her by Hestia, there were three names of former Hogwarts classmates. Hermione decided to start by interviewing Theodore Nott. He had the shortest time in prison, just a week, and was the only one of the three not incarcerated for his involvement in the war, which might make the interview easier. Secretly, she was also interested in checking on Nott's condition.
" Nott won't survive a month, " the man's words continued to echo in her head.
As one of the guards escorted her through the corridors, Hermione could feel the cold of the gloomy place seeping into her limbs. She thought that Azkaban didn't need Dementors to suck the happiness and warmth out of a person.
She was about to ask the guard why they didn't use spells to improve the temperature when a familiar face appeared at the other end of the hallway, walking in the opposite direction. His dark and attractive features hadn't changed much since the sixth year when he was part of the Slug Club, and all she knew about Blaise Zabini after that was that he escaped Azkaban not because he hadn't actively participated on the wrong side in the war, but because of his mother's influential connections in the Wizengamot.
"Granger?" he asked, his face showing a hint of recognition, but surprise at finding her there. She deduced that he was there for the same reason she was, as Zabini and Nott were good friends in Slytherin.
Draco Malfoy used to be with them as well , she recalled.
"Zabini," she replied, not revealing much. The dark-haired man stopped, and Hermione felt compelled to confront whatever he wanted to ask.
"Any of your friends around here?" he asked as if that were unlikely.
"No... In fact, I came to see a friend of yours," Blaise raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Theodore Nott," Zabini raised both eyebrows now, more intrigued than before. "I'm in charge of the Department for the Defense of Magical Rights, and we are..."
"Theo already has an advocate," interrupted Zabini arrogantly. "A rather expensive one, by the way - although useless," he added. "Or else we wouldn't be here."
"I'm not an advocate," Hermione clarified, breathing. "What we do is not about proving innocence or getting a good deal but ensuring that their stay in Azkaban respects the rights that people deprived of their freedom still have simply because they are human."
Zabini blinked a couple of times before bursting into laughter.
"Very well," the dark-haired man said, looking at her as if she were foolish or naive. "Good luck with that!" He continued on his way.
Hermione didn't even wait for him to disappear down the hallway before turning back to the guard, who was watching her with a strange expression. A mixture of seriousness and apprehension, very different from the apathy he had shown before.
In silence, they both continued down the corridor until they reached the designated hallway, where the guard lightly tapped the bars, and they opened, allowing entry.
It was a semicircular room with mossy ceilings and grey walls, long counters in the back, and a couple of chairs on each side. Theodore Nott took a little bit of time to appear through the only door, which was located behind the counters.
He was still notably tall and slim, with curly brown hair, black eyes, and a white face with symmetrical features.
A handsome guy... won't survive a month
"Nott," Hermione greeted him once the guard had him seated before her. The young man had his hands trapped in magical handcuffs in front of him and placed them on the table. His clothes were clean, and although they didn't seem warm enough for the room's temperature, they were the official uniform of all Azkaban prisoners. This fluorescent yellow was impossible to overlook. Nott wore it well.
"Granger?" he asked after a few seconds of recognition, with the same surprised expression as Zabini.
"The same," she smiled, feigning a familiarity she didn't feel. Hermione doubted she had exchanged words with Nott at Hogwarts. She remembered that he spent much time in the library and smiled mockingly with Malfoy when she revealed herself as a Muggle-born in class. That was a long time ago. "I don't want to waste time pretending we're interested in catching up on what we've been up to lately, so I'd prefer to get straight to the point," Hermione said. Nott's expression didn't change at all. "I'm here on behalf of the Ministry of Magic as a Department for the Defense of Magical Rights representative."
"But..." Nott narrowed his eyes, not understanding. "I already have an advocate."
"I'm not an advocate," Hermione replied, somewhat annoyed by how often this confusion occurred. "I'm not here to seek a reduction in your sentence, Nott. I'm here to ensure that your stay in Azkaban complies with regulations and that none of your fundamental rights are violated."
Nott watched her in silence for a long moment, lips slightly parted.
"I see," he finally responded. "Do you do this for every Azkaban prisoner?"
"No... that's not how it works. I requested this meeting with you to determine if you've had fair treatment during your stay or if you have any reason to believe that any fundamental rights have been violated."
Nott contemplated her for a long moment with an expression that didn't reveal much. The guard behind him, overseeing the interview, shifted in his seat.
"No," Nott said finally. "No fundamental rights violated. Everything's in order here." He smiled, but the curvature of his lips didn't reach his eyes.
"Do you have any complaints about the facilities?" she continued. "Is there enough warmth or hot water in the showers... or perhaps the food... Is it sufficient?"
"It's... delicious," Nott continued. This time, his dark eyes looked towards the guard, with not a single muscle in his face moving, and they lingered there for three long seconds before returning to her. Hermione understood that the man's presence might not create the ideal environment for conversation.
"I understand," Hermione murmured. It wasn't safe to signal to Nott that she had understood his apprehension when facing the guard. "I suppose everything is being handled properly in your case." She stood up. "Nevertheless, I'll come back in a week so you can describe their routine here."
"Routine?"
"You know... the time they give you to go out to the patio or the times of your meals."
Nott pressed his lips noticeably, turning them into a line, before she bid farewell and called the guard back to accompany her to the exit.
"Goodbye, Nott... see you in a week," she smiled.
"Granger," he called out as the guard made him stand up from his seat. "Have you spoken to the 'ferret' recently?" Hermione was about to ask who the 'ferret' was until she remembered. "He recently told me he really wanted to talk to you." The guard grabbed Nott's arm roughly and pushed him through the door before Hermione could say much.
The 'ferret' could only be Malfoy, but why Nott had used a nickname that the blonde didn't like was unclear. And that Malfoy wanted to talk to her was even less believable unless... it was Nott, not Malfoy, who wanted her to speak to the blonde without the guards knowing.
-HP-
"Malfoy?" Hestia asked, raising both eyebrows. "As in 'Draco Malfoy'?" she repeated.
"Yes, Draco Malfoy," Hermione affirmed. "I need you to arrange a meeting with him."
"Ask what you want, but I can't guarantee good results."
"Why not?"
"Draco Malfoy is not willing to receive visitors," said Hestia.
Hermione responded, "I am representing the Ministry."
Hestia raised an eyebrow with a mocking expression. "Not from the Ministry or anywhere else," she said, adjusting her bright blue glasses. "When I worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, we tried to interview him to ask for some contacts in France, but he refused to see us. We even threatened to subpoena him if he didn't respond to the Ministry's call. But nothing... An advocate filed a harassment complaint against us, and it was made clear that Draco Malfoy doesn't give interviews. To anyone."
"Very well... then get me a meeting with Blaise Zabini."
"Any reason to give him?" Hestia asked, already lifting the receiver to make the call.
"To discuss his visit to Theodore Nott."
"His nonexistent visit, you mean."
"Why nonexistent?"
"Because Theodore Nott is under restricted visits. No one who enters Azkaban can have visitors until a month has passed since they started serving their sentence. It took me a long time to get them to let you in, and that was by claiming you were from the Ministry."
"Impossible... Zabini was there. If he wasn't with Nott, then who..." Hermione realized it was best not to finish that sentence.
"That's something I can find out," Hestia smiled, taking her coat from the rack. "It may take some time, but you'll have the visit records on your desk this afternoon," the woman smiled as she adjusted her coat and picked up a folder from the table.
Hermione didn't say anything, but she had to admit that Hestia had been much more valuable in the past week than in the previous months, although she couldn't guess why.
"By the way," the blonde said, walking to Hermione's desk, "from the folder the Minister left you, it's interesting to note the money transfers that were made from several prisoners' accounts, including Draco Malfoy's, to the accounts of some of the guards and Aurors at Azkaban. And since you want to talk to Blaise Zabini, you should know that a particularly significant sum is transferred from Zabini's account." Hestia handed the folder to Hermione, not letting go until she took it from the other end.
"How significant?"
Hestia placed both hands on her desk and opened her wide blue eyes to emphasize the point.
"Very significant". The blonde pulled out a lipstick and touched her lips, mouthing a "VERY" to Hermione before leaving.
-HP-
Hermione's lunch unfolded in the warm solitude of her office as she wolfed down a chicken sandwich and reviewed Draco Malfoy's file from his time at Azkaban.
Of course, she hadn't requested just Malfoy's file but several more, searching for evidence of any patterns that might suggest irregularities.
However, Malfoy's file was the one that caught her attention the most. It began by detailing frequent fights with other inmates, most of them former Death Eaters like him, with almost daily visits to the infirmary, photographs of injuries to his back and face, reports of fractures, bruises, split lips, and then... nothing. It was as if, after six months in the place, all the hatred they could feel toward him suddenly vanished, and he could spend the rest of the year almost like a Tibetan monk, isolated from everyone.
He had completed the second year out of Azkaban on house arrest, and then his file mentioned a report filed four months ago by Astoria Greengrass, alleging death threats made by third parties against Malfoy. Hermione recalled seeing photos of the blonde on Malfoy's arm plastered all over the magazines more than once, like an excellent pure-blood girlfriend.
Searching for more details about what Malfoy had been doing with his life, there were mentions of large sums donated to various organizations, businesses, and properties in France and some firms where he was listed as the primary investor in England. In the space for "Occupation," it read: Lord Malfoy.
Hermione realized that with Lucius's death at the hands of Death Eaters, in a horrifying episode just after the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy had ceased to be the heir and became the new Lord of one of the most significant fortunes in the magical world.
And here I am, the great heroine of the Second Wizarding War, working for a month for what Malfoy probably spends on lunch , she thought while she took the last bite of her chicken sandwich and wiped her fingers covered in a dubious sauce.
"Is that your lunch?" Cormac McLaggen asked his arrogant face with a golden curl adorning his forehead. "I was coming to offer you lunch at a place with something more substantial."
Hermione swallowed a callous piece of chicken and shook her head.
"Thank you very much, but I'm already full." She forced a smile. Cormac observed her with such intensity that it ended up making her uncomfortable. "Is there something else you need?"
"Your new project..." McLaggen muttered. "Defending Azkaban prisoners."
"What about it?"
"You didn't even study magical law..." he said disdainfully. "How are you supposed to be a Defender for...?"
"I'm not an Advocate, McLaggen," she huffed. "I'm not trying to prove their innocence but to ensure the conditions..." She stopped her explanation. If Cormac, who worked at the Ministry, couldn't understand the role of one of its departments, she wasn't the one to explain it to him. "The truth is, I don't see why it matters to you."
"Well, I just want to let you know because I care about you," he said.
"Do I matter to you?"
"Of course."
Hermione wasn't sure if she could respond to that without laughing or crying, so she didn't say anything.
A few seconds later, the blonde had disappeared, and she continued to rummage through another folder.
-HP-
"I was right when I told you that Nott hadn't had any visits apart from yours," Hestia smiled, handing her an envelope. "This is the complete record for this week."
"And Zabini?"
"He doesn't appear in the record either, but..." The blonde walked to the door and closed it securely before returning to Hermione. "A reliable informant told me that a dark-skinned man, elegantly dressed, arrived that morning asking for Emet Hemlock, and he was escorted to the visitor's room without creating any records."
"And who is Emet Hemlock?"
"Ah!" Hestia exclaimed, leaning closer to Hermione as if to share a secret. "This is where it gets interesting." She seemed strangely excited. "Remember I told you that a very significant sum of money was moved into the account of one of the guards?" Hermione nodded. "That guard was Hemlock."
"So, Zabini..."
"But wait, there's more," Hestia continued. "When the man entered, he had an elegantly black leather bag that caught my informant's attention. So, it seemed strange to him that the bag was no longer in his hands when he left shortly after your visit."
Hermione remembered that Zabini had empty hands.
"So, Zabini is paying a guard large sums of money, but for what?"
"There's one last, third detail that's just as important," Hestia went on, going back to her desk and leafing through a series of documents until she found what she was looking for. She then turned to Hermione again. "The record of Gringotts accounts given to you by the Minister is charmed to update daily and tracks the accounts of all the guards and prisoners for the past three years. A few days ago, Draco Malfoy transferred a significant sum to Blaise Zabini."
"But how significant?"
"Not very significant. But significant enough to ensure that both of them are giving a small fortune to Hemlock."
"But why?"
"That's the question you must answer with Blaise Zabini," Hestia smiled. "You have a meeting with him tomorrow at eight."
While Hestia watched her with lips that seemed to quiver with excitement, Hermione wondered if someone under the effects of Polyjuice Potion had taken her place.
-HP-
In Hermione's opinion, Blaise Zabini didn't receive her at his home but in a large, minimalist building uncomfortably close to the Ministry. There was a small plaque at the entrance named "RyM Associates."
She had to ride the elevator up ten floors to reach a spacious reception area, where they made her wait for half an hour before announcing that Mr. Zabini would see her.
The coffee they served her as she sat in the large room where she waited for him was even better than Shacklebolt's. While Blaise seemed to wait for the Secretary to finish leaving before speaking, Hermione appreciated the beauty of the desk, the simplicity of the chairs, and the large dimensions of the fireplace at the back of the room.
"So, what brings you here, Granger?" Blaise smiled. "Is it on behalf of the Ministry?"
"My secretary made the appointment, so yes, Zabini, I clearly come on behalf of the Ministry," she replied. The man didn't seem to be fazed. He continued to study her face with an indifferent expression.
"And how can we help the Ministry?"
Hermione hurried to drink all the coffee, just in case what she was about to say wasn't well-received, and they kicked her out.
"You see, we need you to explain why Malfoy and you are depositing money into the account of an Azkaban guard named Emet Hemlock."
Zabini stared at her in silence for a long minute. He took a sip of his coffee and smiled.
"The truth, Granger, is that I don't see why it should matter to you or the bloody Ministry what we do with our money."
"But it does matter to me, Zabini, because when those deposits started is precisely when Malfoy's visits to the infirmary stopped, and a new money transfer coincides with Theodore Nott's arrival at Azkaban, whom I saw in quite good condition on my last visit."
Blaise Zabini had his black eyes fixed on her, and although he seemed to be biting his cheek on the inside of his mouth, the rest of his expression didn't show much.
"If you're bribing a guard to stop beating the prisoners, it's something the Ministry needs to know, and we need your cooperation to put an end to it."
"Very well," Zabini smiled, though he didn't seem pleased. "In six months, I'll give you all the details you want, Granger. But for now, you won't get another word from me."
"Six months... when Nott finishes his sentence," Hermione deduced, but he ignored her comment. "It's curious because it was precisely him who asked me to talk to Malfoy."
Zabini looked at her incredulously.
"Theo wouldn't have..."
"He did."
"Granger, I didn't take you for a liar. Theo would never have mentioned Draco's name in front of one of those guards."
"He called him a ferret," Hermione said, and the smile disappeared from Zabini's lips. "He disguised our conversation in front of the guard to make it seem like he was talking to me about an old mutual friend, and he told me that the ferret had something to tell me."
"Did you notice anything strange about him?" he asked, feigning apathy, but his concern was evident in how he bit his lip.
"I don't know him well enough to answer that, but he didn't seem mistreated if that's the question."
Blaise curved his lips with disdain.
That wasn't the question .
"Zabini..." she continued, "if Malfoy and Nott have had to pay to stop them from beating them, things are not right in Azkaban. And even if the money gives Nott some peace, others there don't have vast fortunes, and maybe..."
"If those poor souls matter to you so much, help me get Theo out. Have them modify his sentence to house arrest. The Ministry should have the power to do that. Aren't you supposed to be a bloody defender?"
"I'm not an advocate," she said, biting her lip. Hadn't she clarified that already?
"Then I don't see how you can help us."
"So, you do need help," she said, and Zabini bit his lip. Whether it was out of regret for what he had already said or to avoid saying anything else, Hermione didn't know, as the fireplace lit up with green smoke, and a tall figure quickly walked to the centre of the room.
"Blaise, where the hell did you leave me...?" When his grey eyes met hers, Hermione stopped waiting for any introduction.
In front of her was Draco Malfoy.
-END OF CHAPTER I-
Note 1: Comments, kudos and bookmarks are always welcome.
Note 2: Please take into account the warnings. This story is a faithful representation of the philosophy that says, "A human being who has been repaired is more beautiful than one who has never been hurt."