Chapter 1

August 28th 1997

AND THEN IT WAS OVER

A new day is dawning for the wizarding world as next week, Hogwarts will be opening its doors once again as term will start for the new generation of witches and wizards to attend. September 4th 1997 will see Minerva McGonagall take over the role of Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry under a cloud of calm after the triumphant victory over Voldemort by the Golden Trio;
Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, who lead a force of students, staff and others who stood strong against the forces of such evil.
Within the four months between the Battle of Hogwarts and the start of a new term, the Wizengamot has tried and sentenced over twenty confirmed Death Eaters, including Belltrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Alecto Carrow and Fenrir Greyback to life imprisonment in Azkaban. However others, who were also affiliated with Voldemort, have been given suspended sentences on the promise of good behaviour. These individuals have been placed under strict supervision by the Law Enforcement Squad.
Surely though the law enforcement team, whose recent additions of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, would be better to spend their time on other more important tasks such as aiding the Ministry in rebuilding our great wizarding community?

"That is ridiculous" Hermione stated as she folded her copy of The Daily Prophet next to her and continued to eat her breakfast. "You would have thought the best – no, the safest thing to do would be to lock them all up, they are all guilty!"

"Hermione, I'm sure the Wizengamot had their reasons." Ron replied. "And Harry must have had a good enough excuse, he was heavily involved in the sentencing process. Trust him Hermione; he knows what he's doing."

The two friends continued to eat their breakfast in the kitchen of Grimmauld place. Kreacher busied himself grumbling occasionally, and Hermione continued to scowl, thinking over what she had just read.
"I bet I know who managed to squirm their way out of a stint in Azkaban I bet it was the – "
"Morning all!" Harry's chirpy welcome interrupted Hermione, as he sat down to start his breakfast. "You wouldn't mind passing me the Prophet would you?"
Hermione tossed the paper across the table and resumed eating, hardly looking up.
"Did I do something to upset you Hermione?" Harry asked glancing cautiously between Hermione and Ron.
Hermione scoffed as Ron answered Harry. "She's angry mate – It's all over the front of the Prophet, about the Death Eaters."
Harry unfolded the paper and skim read the article. He paused slightly before he looked up, straight at Hermione, "Hermione-"
"- Don't 'Hermione' me Harry, I'm being serious, what in Merlin's name made you and the Wizengamot believe it was a good idea to give Death Eaters, confirmed Death Eaters, a suspended sentence. Why not send them to Azkaban, where they would be as far away from wizarding society?"
"Hermione, there were special circumstances surrounding certain people, we had to take them into account. It's not all black and white, guilty and not guilty when it comes to this. We had some serious decisions to make. And I support every one of the Wizengamot's decisions."
"Fine Harry, fine. Whatever you see fit. I - I just wanted to make my opinions clear. "Hermione finished the last of her breakfast before standing to leave. "I have to go get ready; I'm due at St. Mungo's in an hour."

Harry and Ron returned home and collapsed onto the dusty sofas in Grimmauld Place. Work had been tough; they were on a strict deadline, processing the conviction forms for the convicted Death Eaters.

"Harry," Ron started, sitting up, "I was just wondering, When I was processing my forms I didn't see the Malfoy name in my list, or yours. Did we not need to process it?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Not exactly"
"What do you mean?"
"We don't need to process their paper work because they are not being prosecuted... Don't ask me why, but the orders to let them go came from Kingsley and the Minster for Magic's office. I had no choice."
Ron ruffled his hair and sighed, "I vote we don't tell Hermione, after this morning it'll probably be best not to tell her. She'll kill you!"
"I agree." Harry sat forward in his chair. "On the topic of Hermione – how is it going between you two?"
Ron laughed nervously, "Yeah, its going ok I suppose."
"You suppose! Come on Ron, I thought you were crazy about her."
"I am, don't get me wrong. I just think we're both adjusting to being 'a couple' rather than just friends. It'll all work out. I'm still crazy about her."

Hermione arrived back at Grimmauld Place after dinner; Kreacher had left a plate of food for her in the kitchen. She sat down and ate gratefully. It had been a long day; her supervisor, Healer Somerfield had sprung an inspection on Hermione, following her diagnosis, watching her bedside manner, and checking her treatment plans.
She had proposed bringing Hermione's final examinations foreword. Hermione had worked hard after the war, the studious girl had never left her, and she was determined to do well. The war had changed her. The large scale suffering she had witnessed firsthand during the war had affected her; it had given her motivation to do something to help others, healing seemed the most natural occupation to go into.

"How was work?" Ron asked as he sat opposite Hermione.
"Good, tiring." She replied taking another mouthful of food. "Healer Somerfield wants to move my exams forward to the beginning of October."
"Wow, that's fantastic news Hermione; we should go out and celebrate. Plus it can be an early birthday celebration too. What do you think?"
"Sounds fantastic." She replied reaching her hand across the table to take hold of Ron's. "But after my exams are over. "

September 5th 2007

Malfoy Manor was am imposing building set within its own land. Being used as a base for Voldemort during the war had taken its toll on the building and those who permanently inhabited it. What was once an impeccably decorated stately home had deteriorated, wallpaper was half torn off, carpets were ripped from the floor, exposing rough floorboards, and blood stains were still clearly visible both on the floor and the walls.

Narcissa Malfoy was a shell of her former self. Before the war she was a strong figure, leading the Malfoy family alongside her husband to great things. But her faith in magic and her family had been challenged. Her son's failure to follow Voldemort's orders had terrified her to the bone.
Her post war life, her new life, was solely dedicated to the preservation of her family. She never wanted to part from them, to let them out of her sight, or not to know their daily plans. Her life would shatter if they were not in it.

Lucius called Draco into his study. He gestured for his son to take a seat. "I have serious concern Draco; it's about your mother."
"Mother, why are you concerned?
"Draco, I may be getting old, but I am certainly far from stupid. You can't seriously convince me that you haven't noticed your mother behaviour. I'm concerned about both her physical and emotional wellbeing."
Draco didn't need to lie to his father, he agreed with him. His mother had refused to let them repair the manor; she was adamant that it must stay in its current state. She often disappeared into the grounds of the manor for several hours at a time, only to be brought back by the house elves half starved, or chilled to the bone.
"I agree father, I'm worried. What do you propose we do?"
"Watch her closely, the last thing this family needs is more public exposure, only when absolutely necessary will we take appropriate action to get help. I don't want her worried unnecessarily, it could make her worse. And I don't think we could bear it."

Draco the drawing room on his way out of his father's study, or what was left of the drawing room, he pushed open the door and was met with a familiar sight. Broken furniture, smashed beyond repair, Granger's blood stain still on the floor. But despite the damage his mother had placed herself in the seat by the window, staring wistfully humming to herself.
He approached her, knelt by her side and placed his hand lovingly on her arm.
"Draco, my Draco. I was worried, where have you been. It's been too long. I was waiting, watching for your return."
"I didn't go anywhere mother." Draco sighed, "I worked at home today, remember we had lunch together."
"We did?" Narcissa looked puzzled; she turned her head to face Draco, before the memory returned to her, "Oh yes, we did. I remember now, we had a ham salad, I remember". Narcissa smiled and serenely turned her head back towards the window.
Draco stood, placed a kiss on his mother's head, and left the room. His father was defiantly right; his mother needed help. But in Draco's mind she needed it sooner rather than later.