The Pride Of Slytherin [Draco Malfoy]

PROLOGUE II

                                                                                                                                                                       2nd may 2001

Hermione stood outside the large bolted door as she did every other Thursday.

Her cold fingers held her paperwork upright to her chest as her eyes glazed over the small indents of the wood in front of her "I am here to see prisoner 199172" she spoke not looking the man in his face.

The guard who was stood outside of the door outstretched his ruddy hand for the paperwork and she gave it to him, her hands falling back down to her sides as her eyes trailed over the broken down stones that had made up the entirety of the walls, to a window which overlooked the water crashing against rocks down below.

It was almost peaceful, tranquil even, given the nature of the building and what it was used for.

She didn't know what to expect when first walking into Azkaban but hardly standing walls and short male guards were far from what she had imagined.

After Harry and The Order won the second wizarding war, Death eaters were captured and sent to Azkaban, Others went into hiding and concealed themselves away in their homes with a multitude of barrier spells that locked people out.

Others tried to fight back, they were caught and sent to Azkaban. People wanted justice, they wanted to sentence Voldemort's oppressors to death but Harry had opposed, stating that if we were to kill we would be no better than them.

Hermione agreed.

To an extent.

It had been exactly three years today since Harry had saved them all, one year since he had killed Voldemort, Pried the elder wand out of his cold snake-like fingers and held it up in victory.

He had done the unthinkable, and he had the world to thank him for it.

The moonlight shone lightly against the broken bricks that caved the hallway she was quietly standing in bringing her back from her thoughts as her eyes looked over the back where one single fireplace sat where she had previously come from.

What was taking him so long to check.

A huff of approval before the paperwork was handed back to her and the door opened with a heavy pull to the lock.

The use of magic was prohibited in Azkaban by both visitors and guards. It made it easier for the dementors to keep an eye on the prisoner as well as the most logical fact of keeping wands away from prisoners.

She walked through into the next hallway, a door to the end.

Her fingertips explored the soft and sharp-edged of the messily laid stone as she got closer towards the door.

Her work for the ministry was tiring, it never gave her the satisfaction of making a difference. She never felt she did. Anytime she would propose something it would be put into the 'maybe' pile and then locked under a desk that would not see daylight for years.

There was a small window in the top centre of the door. It had small bars through the gap, just enough so you could see inside the room but not enough where you could push a hand through.

She looked through as she got closer, her fingers still trailing along the edges of the wall. She couldn't see much but the edge of what seemed to be a silver metal table. The sound of quiet breathing could be heard as she placed her hand on the door handle and turned it down, pulling the door open and stepping through, she turned to the door to close the chain lock.