Disclaimer: I own nothing; it all belongs to J.K.Rowling. I’m just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Halloween morning dawned stormy and gray. There was a distinct chill in the air that Harry knew would only worsen on the open ocean. It was exactly the kind if dismal day that seemed appropriate for a trip to Azkaban. He’d dressed warmly but still felt goose bumps rise on his skin as he boarded the boat that would take him to Azkaban.

He, Ron, and Malfoy had met Tonks and Mad-Eye in the entrance hall. Harry reckoned Moody was only going along to keep an eye on Malfoy; he still suspected that Malfoy was up to something. Of course, Moody generally suspected that everyone was up to something.

They’d Apparated to the Ministry and taken a controlled Portkey to a small island not far from Azkaban where the Ministry ran a checkpoint. No one was allowed in or out of the prison without going through the island’s security. The wards at the prison prevented both Apparation and Portkeys, much like the wards at Hogwarts.

Malfoy had remained concealed beneath Harry’s Invisibility Cloak until they’d arrived at the checkpoint. There he’d had to register his wand and state his intent to visit his father. Harry was incredibly apprehensive about leaving his wand at the checkpoint. Tonks assured him it would be safe; there were precautions in place so that only he could remove it. Besides, only the Aurors were permitted to bring wands inside the prison. If he wanted to go, he’d have to leave it.

Once they’d completed the registration, they were ushered outside to a small boat ramp. The icy wind blew off the North Sea in fierce gusts, causing Harry to pull his jacket more tightly around his body. His hair ruffled in the breeze as the clean, salty air filled his lungs.

Grim-faced Aurors stared suspiciously at them as they boarded. There were surprisingly few passengers, and Harry assumed the prisoners incarcerated within Azkaban didn’t receive many visitors. Along with Tonks, there were five other Aurors taking the journey to relieve those who had worked the night shift.

The boat was small and mostly open to the wind. Stiff wooden benches were aligned in rows behind an enclosure where the captain piloted the boat. Harry and Ron sat on one bench while Tonks and Mad-Eye took the bench behind them. Tonks left room for Malfoy to join them, but he purposefully took the bench opposite them and sat alone.

"Where do they put the prisoners?" Harry asked, wondering how it would feel to be making this journey knowing there was only pain and imprisonment at the end. This trip already appeared foreboding, and he was certain he’d be returning in only a few short hours.

"Prisoners don’t ride with passengers," Tonks said, shaking her head. "There is a heavily secured ship that makes the trip once a day. Prisoners are Stunned while they go in and out on that one."

"They’re Stunned even when they’re leaving?" Ron asked, his voice squeaking slightly.

Tonks smiled grimly. "There isn’t anything about this place that’s pleasant."

"How long is this journey going to take?" Malfoy asked. He stood up and scowled at the crude seating. "These accommodations are barbaric."

The boat jerked slightly as it left the dock, causing Malfoy to stumble and hit his knee against the bench. He winced painfully and grabbed onto his wounded knee. Ron sniggered loudly, causing Malfoy to glare at him as he retook his seat.

"What are you laughing at, Weasley? Just because a wooden bench is considered a step up from what your family is accustomed doesn’t mean-"

"Not one word about my family, Malfoy," Ron said, standing up and towering over the blonde. In the cramped quarters of the launch, Ron had to hunch over so that his head wouldn’t hit the roof. "There’s no one on this boat who’d make a fuss if you suddenly found yourself overboard, so I’d keep quiet if I were you."

"All right, that’s enough, lad," Moody said, chuckling and motioning Ron back to his seat.

Harry turned away from their bickering to watch the waves crash against the side of the boat. He could feel the cold spray of the water and pulled deeper into himself in an attempt to keep warm. The island from where they’d departed had rapidly become a distant speck upon the horizon. Nothing but the cold, gray sea surrounded them as far as the eye could see in any direction. He wasn’t certain how far they’d traveled, but it seemed as if they were exposed to the wind and icy surf for hours. A fog had rolled in, making visibility nearly non-existent. Harry strained his eyes, trying to see anything in the distance.

Suddenly, the captain called out above the wind, "Land, ho!"

Harry tried unsuccessfully to suppress a shudder as a massive stone structure emerged from the fog as if a curtain had been lifted. Jagged, seaweed-covered rocks poked out of the water surrounding the small island. The sharp, rough edges would be enough to make any stray boats hesitant to try and dock.

The walls of the prison arose steep and menacing from the icy cold sea, forcing Harry to crane his neck to see the top. He could see the water line that the tide had marked on the stone, making it appear smoother and darker than the remainder of the structure.

The captain maneuvered the boat into a small inlet that Harry hadn’t noticed at first. As he watched the boat make the treacherous journey up the channel, he saw several of the jagged stones move out of their way. Obviously the channel was controlled by magic.

When they reached the end, they docked on a simple wooden platform to debark. The moment Harry stepped off the boat, he felt a chill deeper than anything weather-related sink into his skin. He broke into a clammy sweat despite the cold, and his head felt suddenly woozy. He had no doubt there were Dementors nearby.

As the small party approached the stone wall, a doorway magically appeared several meters above their heads. A metal stairway was lowered, and they ascended into the prison. Tonks pressed her wand against the door, which emitted a series of soft pops before gliding open.

The blast of air coming from inside the prison was colder than the sea air in which they were standing. Harry followed Ron inside, his heart pounding and his head swimming. A bout of nausea churned his stomach, nearly causing him to gag.

A tall, thin, cloaked figure stood on the far side of the room, observing them as they entered. Harry vision blurred as a distant screaming began to echo in his head. Instinctively, he reached for his wand only to find it missing. He took deep breaths, trying to control his rising panic.

He stumbled as Tonks quickly ushered them across the room and would have fallen if Ron hadn’t caught him.

"You all right, mate?" Ron whispered as they entered the long stone corridor outside the first room. Ron was very pale, making the freckles on his face stand out darkly.

Harry nodded, his world steadying again after they’d left the room where the Dementor still stood. His stomach roiled, and he was very glad he hadn’t eaten much for breakfast.

"That’s right, Potter," Malfoy drawled, staring at Ron and him with amusement glinting in his steel gray eyes. "I’d forgotten you had problems with Dementors. They make you faint, don’t they?" Despite his taunts, Malfoy’s pallor had faded, as well.

"Back off, Malfoy," Ron growled, staring at Harry with concern.

Harry didn’t even bother with a comment; it was taking all his effort to remain standing. He’d tried to put a hand on the cold stone of the wall in an effort to collect himself, but that had been a bad idea. There was something alive in the walls. Harry didn’t know how else to describe it. The stone was cold and slightly slimy from the damp chill, but there was also a deep agony that emanated from it. It was almost as if the stone had absorbed all the misery and torment from the people that had been imprisoned here through the years.

Harry watched as water dripped from the ceiling and ran in rivulets in certain spots along the massive corridor. It looked as if the walls were crying.

"Are you going to be able to do this, Harry?" Tonks asked. She’d moved to his side and lowered her voice. Her hair had been her traditional bubblegum pink when they’d left that morning, but since entering the prison the color had faded and become dull.

"I’m fine," Harry replied, feeling anything but fine. "Let’s just get it over with."

"What do you want to do first?" Tonks asked, her eyes showing concern.

It made Harry uncomfortable, and he grit his teeth as he tried to ignore it. It was hard enough dealing with the effects of the Dementors, never mind dealing with sympathy because of it.

"Let’s take Malfoy to see his father before we look through Dung’s things," he replied. If the amulet was with Dung’s belongings, he didn’t want to bring it anywhere near Lucius Malfoy.

"The cells where the prisoners are located begin on level three. That’s where Dung’s cell is. Lucius is in the high-security wing on level five. The stairs are this way. I just want to warn you — there are Dementors on that level, so be prepared," Tonks said grimly.

They climbed the stairs in silence. The presence of the Dementors had affected them all, and not even Malfoy had the energy to be difficult. Once they’d reached level five, Moody informed Malfoy that he wouldn’t be able to see his father alone. Moody said he was going with him.

"No way, Moody" Malfoy replied, some of his former bravado returning. "You’re not going to use anything my father says against him at a later date, not a chance."

Moody shrugged as if it made no difference to him one way or the other. "Then you’re not going in, either, lad. You’re not entering his cell without an escort."

"Tonks can go then," Malfoy replied, sneering. "She’s sort of family. I’ll trust her over you."

"Sorry, Draco," Tonks said cheerfully. "I’m on duty. I have to go relieve my partner, so I really can’t sit with you. You can pick Moody, Ron or Harry, but one of them is going inside with you."

Malfoy scowled. "Potter then," he said, sneering

"Good enough," Moody growled. "Potter, keep your ears open that these two aren’t plotting anything against the Order. Keep the Invisibility Cloak on so you won’t be seen."

"I thought Invisibility Cloaks didn’t work against Dementors," Harry asked, pulling the Cloak out of his pocket.

"The Cloak isn’t meant to fool the Dementors," Tonks replied. "They don’t see the way we do. They’ll sense two people entering and two people leaving. The Cloak will only deceive Lucius."

"As long as you keep your mouth shut," Moody said, his magical eye staring menacingly at Draco.

"I don’t want my father to know Potter is there any more than Potter wants to be seen. I don’t even want him there at all," Malfoy replied, turning his back on both Harry and Moody.

"What you want has never been one of my considerations, boy," Moody replied, harshly. "Go on down the corridor. He’s in cell 5-J; it’ll be on your left. Ron and I will be waiting here."

Ron looked extremely hesitant to let them go, but there was nothing to be done for it. Tonks pressed her wand to the heavy steel door and it slid open, stopping with a loud clang. Harry threw the Invisibility Cloak over his head and followed Malfoy down the long, dimly lit corridor.

The air was even heavier than it had been downstairs, and Harry knew the Dementors were close by the volume of the screaming in his head. He felt positively ill and hoped he wouldn’t alert Lucius Malfoy to his presence by vomiting all over the man’s feet.

Draco glanced at the numbers of the cells as they walked. Harry peered into each cell and felt a great wave of sympathy for the prisoners huddled inside each small hole. There was barely enough room to move inside, and most of the prisoners didn’t even have the energy to stir as they passed.

Harry shook his head. This wasn’t the time to dwell on that. Malfoy stopped walking and placed his hand on a silver disk located outside the cell. The disk flashed green, indicating it was safe to enter. There were no doors or bars to hold the prisoners but instead a ward ensured they were kept inside. Tonks had said the ward would allow them inside the cell, but they would be unable to leave until they again passed their hands over the disk. If Lucius attempted an escape, they would all be trapped within the wards.

Harry hadn’t bothered to ask exactly what that meant. He didn’t think he really wanted to know.

He followed Draco inside the cell, and it was a moment before he noticed Lucius sitting on the edge of his bed. He’d obviously been sleeping as his eyes were crusted, and he squinted at his son as if trying to process the fact he was there. Lucius was thinner than Harry remembered. His long blonde hair was matted and dirty, and he’d lost that haughty aristocratic demeanor that he’d always shown. He looked haunted. Harry couldn’t imagine trying to live for years under these conditions. It was a wonder anyone left Azkaban with his mind still intact.

"Father?" Malfoy asked tentatively. His voice shook slightly as his eyes roamed over his father’s broken form.

"Draco? What are you doing here?" Lucius asked. His voice was raspy from lack of use. "Everyone has been looking for you. Is your mother with you?"

"She’s safe, Father. She doesn’t even know I’m here," Draco replied, swallowing heavily. "How are you?"

Lucius Malfoy shook his head as if to clear it. That ugly sneer that Harry remembered so well returned to his features. "What have you done, Draco? Have you made a bargain with the blood traitors? Where is your pride? I’m so disappointed in you."

"Father, listen to me. I can help you. When you’re released from here, you can come into hiding with us," Draco said, a pleading quality to his voice that Harry found painful. He knew from years of experience that Draco’s pleas would fall on deaf ears.

"A real Malfoy would never crawl on his belly with the slime and dregs of society," Lucius spat, seething now. "I thought I’d raised you to know that. This is your mother’s influence, isn’t it?"

"Father, the Dark Lord will kill you when you’re released if you don’t do something to ensure your own survival," Draco cried.

"Then I will die with honor, as you should have done," Lucius replied.

"Father-"

"No, Draco. You can still salvage this," Lucius said, moving closer to his son. His eyes began to shine with a demented light. "Go back to the Dark Lord. Kneel before him and beg his forgiveness. Prove your loyalty to him by killing those who have given you aid. It might convince him to grant you some leniency."

Draco threw his head back and snorted derisively "There is nothing lenient about him; you know that. He’ll have me beg and then kill me anyway."

"Then you should die," Lucius replied.

Draco blinked, clearly stunned. "Father, I’m your only son."

"No son of mine would dishonor the Malfoy name in this way," Lucius said, sneering. "I knew after we had you that you were a weakness to your mother’s loyalty. She’d do anything for you, to save you. She’s thrown away her own future to protect yours. It’s why we never had another child. I knew she was weak, but you… You, I thought had learned your proper place."

"My proper place?" Draco asked. "What, to kneel in front of a Half-blood? I thought you said Malfoys were better than that."

Lucius raised his hand and slapped Draco’s face before Harry could do anything to stop it. This was painful to witness, and Harry wished he were anywhere else. He suddenly wondered if this was how Draco had felt while watching scenes of Harry’s childhood with the Dursleys during Occlumency.

"That’s Potter talking," Lucius spat. Harry’s head jerked upward at the sound of his own name.

"Is that who’s offering you protection?" Lucius asked incredulously. "Have you aligned yourself with Potter? Oh, Draco, how could you have sunk so low? Potter doesn’t stand a chance."

"Of course he doesn’t. But there is a better chance of survival through his cohorts. I know at least that they won’t kill us," Draco said, making one last attempt to sway his father.

"Until you stand up and take account for your actions, you are no son of mine. Think about what I’ve said, Draco. You need to turn back to the Dark Lord. You are near his enemies and can aid him greatly. It could earn you great honor and respect. You are nothing without it," Lucius said, his voice silky smooth as he tried to entice his son.

Draco sighed heavily, but pulled away from his father’s caressing hand. "Then we really have nothing else to say. You were the one who taught me that a Malfoy is worth much more than any other wizard because of our heritage, and we should protect that lineage at all costs."

"You are a coward," Lucius spat, turning his back.

Draco’s shoulders slumped. "I’ll give Mother your best," he said softly, placing his hand on the silver disk and stepping outside the moment the ward went down. Harry quickly followed.

As they strode up the corridor towards the room where the others had remained, Harry removed the Invisibility Cloak, feeling awkward. He wondered what Malfoy was feeling. His own father had just told him that he should turn himself over to be killed. How could a father do that to his son? A new and powerful respect for what his own parents had done for him arose in his heart. It seemed not every parent would do such a thing after all. Harry was startled to realize how sorry he felt for Draco Malfoy.

"I’m sorry," Harry said, and he meant it.

"You should be, "Malfoy snapped, not breaking his stride. "This is entirely your fault."

"My fault?" Harry asked, nonplussed.

"My father wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you and your blasted heroics," Malfoy said, seething. "The Dark Lord would never have wanted to punish him by using me and none of this would have happened. It’s all your fault."

Harry’s sympathy for Malfoy’s plight disappeared in a puff of smoke. "It’s not my fault your father chose to put a mask over his head and run around with a lunatic who thinks he’s better than everyone else. Your father did this to himself, Malfoy," Harry snapped.

"It’s your fault you haven’t done what you’ve been supposedly chosen to do and got us all out of this mess. What are you waiting on, anyway? Trying to lap up as much of the glory and spotlight while you can, are you? Afraid the idiotic public who fawn at your feet will turn on you once they realize what a fraud you are?" Draco asked, his face turning pink.

"No, that’s more your style, Malfoy," Harry said. Taking a deep breath, he tried to regain control. "Look, I know you’re angry about the way your father treated you. I would be too-"

"What do you know about it?" Malfoy asked bitterly. "You don’t even remember having a father. You think the way those miserable Muggles treated you gives you any right to say you understand how a family works? As far as I’m concerned, the Muggles had the right idea. They’re the only ones who saw you for what you really are."

Harry was about to lash out when the room suddenly swam before him. He grabbed the wall for support but instantly pulled his hand back when the cold stone sent spasms up his arm. His mother’s voice began screaming in his head. He’d been so caught up in his spat with Malfoy that he hadn’t noticed the change. Now, he was aware of the drop in temperature and how clammy his skin had become.

Malfoy ignored him and continued his rant as he strode forward. Harry swayed on his feet. He shook his head to try and clear it, but only ended up dropping to his knees as his vision continued to blur.

Suddenly, Malfoy’s voice broke through the fog that had clouded Harry’s brain. "What do you want? Let us pass. We’ve got permission to be here," he whined, sounding distinctly afraid. "What’s wrong with you, Potter? Get up. There are Dementors here."

Harry could see them now, two Dementors gliding towards them in that insidious way they had of moving. One came from in front, one from behind. There was nowhere to run or hide. They seemed to move more slowly than Harry remembered. He knew that Tonks had said that only the old Dementors had stayed behind, which might be why they moved more slowly. It didn’t seem to make a difference to Harry, the effects were the same, only they lasted longer.

His last thought before his world went completely black was that Ginny was right. No one ever got used to the effects of Dementors.

A/N: Huge thanks to my beta, Sherylyn, for getting this done despite some pressing real life commitments. I really appreciate it.

This chapter had to be split into 2 parts in order to post. Sorry about that. I also apologize for missing review comments last chapter. Real life got in the way, but I promise not to let it happen this time. Please let me know what you think.