Hermione stood as still as stone. Bianchi stamped it out, then buttoned his robes with a flourish. "It is personal for all of us."

As she watched him disappear down the dusty streets, she slid Blaise Zabini higher up on the list of things she had to worry about.

~*~

Early the next morning, Hermione dressed in a second set of robes she'd gotten from Madam Malkins, downed a cup of coffee, walked down the Manor's drive, and Apparated to the guest receiving desk at Azkaban. A few hours after she'd returned home from Edinburgh yesterday, she'd received an owl from Hestia Jones with a full copy of Pansy Parkinson's indictment. A hand-written note confirmed that she was authorized to arrive at Azkaban at six o'clock sharp, and would be allowed to collect memories with the assistance of a guard.

The guard checked her name from the approved list and stared at her for a few moments before taking her wand and reading the safety instructions detailing the magic suppression potion used on the prisoners. Hermione pursed her lips, but nodded.

He led her down a damp stone hallway silently. There were no Dementors, but she felt a chill settle deep under her skin.

He stopped at an unmarked door, opening it and standing aside as she entered.

Pansy Parkinson sat cross-legged in a metal chair, inspecting her fingernails. Even with sallow skin and limp hair, she still managed to look superior.

It felt like Hermione's lungs were collapsing. "Pansy."

"I was wondering when you'd show." She lifted her eyes and looked her over, like she had mud all down her new robes. Her lips curled in disdain. "My, my, Golden Girl. Freedom certainly looks good on you."

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear. "It'll look better on you, come tomorrow."

Pansy scoffed and went back to staring at her fingernails. "Everything looks better on me."

There was silence.

"Pansy—" Hermione's voice shook. "I'm sorry it took me so long to come see you. I tried to come sooner."

"So I hear." She recrossed her legs. "The guards were gossiping about how they threw you in St. Mungo's." Another pause. "You tried to defend Draco, I assume?"

"Yes."

"Just like you tried to defend Lucius?"

Hermione drew in a rattling breath. "Yes."

"Hmm." Blue eyes flicked up to hers. "Then excuse me for having less than full confidence in your Gryffindor idealism."

Hermione closed her eyes. She could stand her ground before the most powerful people in Great Britain. And yet Pansy Parkinson still somehow managed to cow her.

"It took me a while to learn the game. But I'm getting better." Hermione paused. "I can get you out, Pansy. I just need you to tell me why you were in the Auction."

Pansy's face split into a smirk, and she let out a scathing laugh. "You really don't give up, do you?"

"No, I don't."

Pansy uncrossed her legs, putting both hands on her knees. "Enlighten me then, Granger. They haven't even bothered to tell me why I'm here. No one has even questioned me."