Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
This chapter is a prologue set-up chapter. The whole story will be more of a slow-build type-thing.
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Draco POV
I jolted awake to the blaring of an alarm- my alarm. My brain sluggishly caught up to the present as I assessed my surroundings. My legs tangled up in cotton sheets, my bed and nightstand the only furnishings in the sparse bedroom. A lamp resides on the stand beside me, along with an alarm clock and glass of water. Still half asleep, I look around for my wand before I remember; right... no magic. Muggle house, muggle objects, boring pseudo muggle life. I can do this, I tell myself. It's only for a short while.
I slowly roll out of bed, grabbing my pants that I had thrown on the floor in my haste the night previous, and head for the bathroom. Yesterday seemed like a dream; so much anxiety and changes had taken place that when I finally arrived in this wretched muggle "sanctuary", all I could think about was how much I wanted to sleep so I could forget the events of the day. But sleep only offered a brief reprieve, and now it was time to face the music.
Everything was different here, but I knew I had to stay, at least temporarily. I was sent here, to a magic-less safe-house yesterday, a mere week and a half into the summer- 'for your own safety', is what McGonagall said. Sure, it would be safe until I offed myself from boredom, or frustration, or worry, or any of the other hostile emotions rolling around in my skull. Not to mention- the ministry had taken my wand after Potter had returned it to me after my trial- they said I couldn't be trusted. Now I was left in a muggle town somewhere far away from the Manor, defenseless, magic-less, and hopeless.
And I was scared.
Even though I had been freed of all charges made against me, I was still known to the common public as a former Death Eater. The "good side" of the war had won, and the tables had turned for the Malfoys. Where before we were respected, feared, and well known, now we were scorned and held in low regard. My father being sent to Azkaban didn't help either- the previous head of the family, who usually set fear in the hearts of any opposing families, was now in prison, left to rot, a smear on the Malfoy name. With my father's absence, rival families of the Malfoys took the opportunity to gain power politically and financially, bumping the Malfoy family out of its previous position of power, fame, and fortune. Everyone 'wronged' by my father jumped at the opportunity to spit on us, and now I was the one left to clean up the mess. Merlin knows my father would be of no help any longer.
And despite all this, I couldn't wrap my mind around a future, alone, without my father to guide me and tell me what to do. I knew it should've felt freeing, not having to serve anyone or obey the every whim of a man who tortured muggles for fun, but somehow all I can feel is lonely. And every night, my subconscious likes to remind me why. I'm constantly tortured with what ifs and if onlys, regrets and self hatred. If I had only been a bit more brave, I wouldn't be living this life.
I laugh darkly to myself as I walk into the bathroom. If I had only been a bit more like Potter, perhaps I wouldn't be damned.
~0~
-Two Days Earlier-
"See, Draco? That wasn't nearly as awful as you thought it would be. We were both acquitted, and now we can go home. Why are you pouting?" Mother asks as we walk out of the ministry's level 10 Wizengamot Courtrooms and up the stairs to level 9.
"I'm not-" I sigh, too tired to really protest. "Its nothing, Mother. I'm just tired. I want to go home." I mumble down to my feet as we walked towards the elevators. I was confused- I had just stood on trial, fully expecting to be sentenced life in prison for being a Death Eater and making an attempt on Dumbledore's life, but then Potter had walked in. Little did I know, he had just stood trial for my mother, telling the panel of witches and wizards that she had saved his life in the Forbidden Forest, and that she deserved to be released. Being the Chosen One, the Wizengamot immediately decided that his word was above any charge, and so she was pardoned of her involvement with the Dark Lord.
My eyes had nearly popped out of my head when Potter walked into the courtroom holding my trial, and I wasn't the only one. Half the people in the room stood gaping, at a loss for words. He entered the courtroom with a determined look on his face, like he knew he would be fighting a near-impossible battle, a trial more complicated than that of my mother. I was the son of the Dark Lord's right-hand man, after all. I had the dark mark, I had let the Death Eaters into the school. I still didn't understand why he had bothered to come at all.
So there he had stood, testifying to the Wizengamot of my innocence, and demanding my immediate release. He told them I couldn't be blamed for my involvement with the Dark Lord- if I had not complied with his demands, he said, my family and my own life would have been in great danger.
"Draco only became a Death Eater to save the lives of his family members and himself- had you been in the same position, don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same. And I stand witness to the night of Dumbledore's death- Draco lowered his wand. He did not kill Dumbledore, nor did he have any real intention to kill him. It was only under Voldemort's threats did he make such a feeble attempt on Dumbledore's life." Everyone in the courtroom cringed when Potter said the Dark Lord's name, but he continued on with his argument, as I sat watching him in awe. The savior of the Wizarding world, come to save me. I couldn't believe what he was doing, and knew that I would forever be in debt to him. I could probably never repay it though, it wasn't like the Chosen One would even want to be around a former Death Eater. This was probably just Potter being his noble hero self, his conscience unable to let him watch me be sent to rot in prison with my father. Ha.
Despite many protests and grumblings among the Wizengamot panel, the final verdict was in my favor. With Harry Potter's testimony, I couldn't be sent to prison, due to the ministry's hesitance to defy the Savior of the Wizarding World, to whom they owed a great deal.
I left the courtroom when dismissed, Potter staying behind to talk to someone on the panel. For an autograph no doubt, I think to myself humorlessly. Outside, sitting on a bench, is my mother, shivering from the dementors' chill in the hall. She gets up and hugs me when I approach, and I am infinitely grateful for the warmth her arms provide.
Before my mother or I can step into the elevator on level 9, there is a shout of, "Draco, wait!" and rapid footsteps approaching from behind. I turn around, and there stands Potter in all his Gryffindor glory, pink-faced from exertion. I raise my eyebrows, curious as to what he could possibly want to say to me, of all people.
"I wanted to return this to you, now that you're able to go home. I don't know why I kept it for so long." He says, out of breath, as he reaches in his pocket and pulls out my wand. I take it from him, half-smiling. I had never really expected to see my wand again, never mind hold it and feel the magic thrumming through it and into my fingers again.
"Thanks, Potter," I said while still looking down at my wand. His feet shuffle a bit before he replies.
"Yeah, its no problem. And you can call me Harry- we aren't enemies anymore. I think its best to leave the past behind us." He says earnestly, an intense look on his face. His brows are drawn in, his eyes willing me to understand.
"Alright. Harry." He smiles a sad little smile when I say his name, looking relieved that I didn't rebuff his offer of friendship. And wasn't that just fifty shades of ironic. "And thanks for testifying for me today, too. I thought for sure I was Azkaban's next inmate." He nods with that same little smile at this, turning his eyes down to his shoes.
"Yeah. Um, you're welcome. I meant what I said, about fresh starts. I don't blame you anymore. The war is over now, and its time for new beginnings." I'm surprised by this; I had thought he would be the first one to point fingers at former Death Eaters. Potter is all full of surprises recently, though; I should hardly be surprised.
I hold my tongue from delivering a snide retort about who in this equation needed forgiveness, going for something a bit less likely to set Potter off."Yeah, I agree. Thanks again." At this my mother clears her throat behind me, where I had forgotten she stood. I sigh and turn back to Potter. "I have to go. Bye, P-Harry." My hesitancy to say his name is obvious, almost embarrassing. It was a force of habit to call him Potter, or Potty, which was far more amusing of a name.
"Bye," He says with a smirk that speaks of secrets and spins around, gracelessly strolling back down the stairs to the courtrooms. I watch him go, unsure of what I was feeling towards the dark-haired wizard.
"He's returning to Hogwarts next year, you know." My mother interrupts my internal ponderings, and I turn back around to her, walking with her into the elevator. The door slams closed, and I grab the rope above my head as the elevator abruptly hurtles backwards, and then up.
"Is he?" I ask in return to my mother's statement, and she rolls her eyes at my ignorance of apparently publicly-known information.
"Of course. You could too, you know. I heard that once Hogwarts renovations and repairs are complete, they will be opening the school again this upcoming school year, with McGonagall as Headmistress. Last year's seventh years are being asked to return for an eighth year, because the war and the circumstances prevented proper education to be delivered to the students. The "Eighth Years", so to speak, are required to return in order to graduate. Obviously some students, like yourself, need not really graduate, as its pointless anyways, but it could be worth it to see your friends and complete your education anyways." I think about Hogwarts for a moment, and I wonder if I would really want to return. It had been the setting for many of my nightmares in the past couple weeks, and I knew that even if I got the best grades of my year I wouldn't be able to get a job. Not that I could get the best grades of my year, what with Granger and all, but still. Any known Death Eaters were denied jobs now, for the obvious reasons.
"I don't know, mum. It would be nice to see Blaise again, but would it be worth another year at Hogwarts?" I ask contemplatively.
"It could be good for you. It would be a stress-free year, and I doubt most of the Slytherins in your year will be returning, save for the few not aligned with the Dark Lord. And I know how much you love Potions- another year of it could be fun. You will probably get a Hogwarts letter by owl sometime soon anyways, if you really are allowed to return, so you can worry about it then." We walk out of the elevator onto the level for floo entrance and exit, but before we can go towards the fireplaces, a heavy hand grabs my shoulder from behind.
I turn around, and face a middle-aged man in Ministry garb. His hair is grey, his eyebrows bushy, with a matching bushy grey mustache. He scowls at me, his mustache ruffled and looking as unhappy as the rest of him does. He releases my shoulder and I take a small step backward.
"You are Mr. Malfoy, correct?" He asks gruffly.
"Yes, sir." I state, a bit unnerved by his look of contempt.
"I am here to confiscate your wand. You have been acquitted of any crime, but the Ministry will continue to keep watch of you. You are not allowed a wand until further notice. The Ministry fears you are a danger and any magic you use may be a risk." He smirks at me, aware of how shocked and indignant I feel. The silver name tag pinned to his left breast pocket says 'Kennedy' in curling letters.
"But sir, this must be a mistake. Draco is not a danger- Harry Potter testified at his trial!" My mother exclaims, her eyebrows drawn in, making a frustrated crease in between them.
His eyes hold the purest hate."This is no mistake, Miss. It's policy. We will continue to monitor your son until further notice. If he decides to return to Hogwarts, his wand will be returned once he returns to the school. Until then, he must refrain from magic usage and only travel by floo." He reaches down and grabs my wand out of my hand, snarling nastily when I start to protest. "You may leave now. Thank you for your cooperation." He snickers at my shocked expression as he turns to walk away.
My mother grabs my arm and pulls me along, to the floo chambers. As we step in I hear her say, "Malfoy Manor", and then we are whisked away in green flame.
I step out of the fireplace after my mother, gracefully entering the room without stumbling from the abrupt landing. There is a fine layer of dust over everything and the smell of stale air permeates the room we entered, left unused during our absence. The house feels cold and lonely without my father, but less tense.
I follow my mother into the sitting room, and almost call for a house elf before I remember that all our elves were dismissed when my father, mother, and myself were taken into ministry custody. It explained why the house looked so unused, and posed a definite inconvenience when it came to cooking or cleaning.
My mother passed through the sitting room, headed towards the dining room. I hesitate outside the door, remembering the horrors I had seen in that room and unwilling to evoke those memories in full force. I mentally add "Burn the dining table," to my to-do list.
I sigh and steel myself, walking through the doorway at the same time as I hear a shriek. Inside the dining room I see my mother, a wand to her throat, held by a man in a black cloak and a Death Eater's mask. We are separated by the length of the dining table, a dark expanse between me and my worst nightmare. "Draco, run!" my mother shouts, but I hesitate. I am defenseless and wand-less, but I couldn't just leave her there to be taken or killed by an angry Death Eater hell-bent on following a master who would never return. My cowardice had always been my downfall. "Draco, NOW!" she shouts, as she rears her head back into the masked-man's face, her elbow aiming for his throat. He releases her with a shout and brings his hands up to his throat, gagging for air.
My mother runs toward me, and I turn around and run through the sitting room into the room with the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, I step into the fireplace. "Go, Draco!" she yells from a couple feet behind me. I turn around facing the room, throw my powder down and yell, "Diagon Alley!" on impulse. Before I am whisked away in the green flame, I see my mother running towards me. The crack of apparition rings through the still air, and a cloaked figure suddenly appears between her and the fireplace. My scream is cut off as I am wrenched into darkness.
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AN: R/R, and come find me on tumblr at potter-is-mine. tumblr .com