Chapter One

Draco looked around of what was left of his once home away from home. The war was finally over. Voldemort was dead, and so was his parents. The aurors were on their way to take him to Azkaban. He thought about disapperating, but he couldn't muster enough give a damn to leave. Where was he to go, the Ministry knew about the vacation homes. All thanks to his boastful father. It would be stupid to go back to the Manor, not that he wanted to be there anyway. Any happy memories of his childhood had died along with the first of many murders. He dropped his wand, and held his hands up in surrender before the aurors even said a word.

Hermione sat beside Harry at Draco Malfoy's hearing. She stared down at Malfoy's long hair that hung over his eye hoping to catch a glimpse of the man that had for some reason told his father he couldn't tell if it was Harry. She remembered Harry being thrown in the dungeon while his Aunt had tortured her. She rubbed her arm where 'Mudblood' would forever be ingrained into her skin. She remembered looking to Malfoy for help as she screamed. She remembered the way his eyes had shown disgust, not at her, but at his Aunt. She saw the flash of anger in his eyes, only to return to fear. She knew he was just as helpless as she was. She was pulled out of her thoughts when Kingsley asked his first question.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, the charges brought on you are as follows: The murder of Ronald Weasley," Hermione choked back a sob and squeezed Harry's hand. "Using the killing curse on muggles and your affiliation with Voldemort. How to plead?"

Draco looked up at the Minister jerking his head to get the hair out of his eyes. Hermione leaned closer looking at the dead grey eyes that use to have a fire behind them even if it was to make her and her friends life hell. 'Water.' she barely heard the raspy whisper.

"I can't hear you!" The Minister called out. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but he started to cough. Hermione saw blood run down his chin. "You're wasting my time Mr. Malfoy."

"Stop! Can't you see he's…" She was cut off by another coughing fit. She grabbed something out of her beaded bag and ran over to Malfoy. "Aguamenti." The cup filled with water, she wiped the blood away from his mouth and held the cup to his lips. She watched him drink. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. She thought.

The last thing he wanted from Granger was pity, but the cold water running down his throat felt divine. He could hear his father's voice telling him he was weak and should have spit that water back in the mudblood's face. His father wasn't there, or his mother. He had dropped Pansy at the beginning of the year, and well, so much for those 'real friends' you make in Slytherin. He was alone, and honestly he couldn't blame his friends, he would have done the same.

"Are you quite finished, Ms. Granger?" He heard the Minister ask. She pulled the cup away from his lips. 'Yes, sir." He tried to reach for her as she moved back to her seat, making the chains around his hands rattle. She looked back at him.

"Thanks, Granger." He whispered. Hermione gave a half-hearted nod and took her seat next to Potter. The water had done more than just stop his coughing fit, it had given him clarity. He was a Malfoy, the last of the Malfoys, if he could get out of this, to not rot in a cell in Azkaban like his father would have, he could have a new life. A life where he could finally have a choice.

"Mr. Malfoy, what is your plea?"

He looked up at the Minister, a fire in his eyes and with a classic Malfoy smirk said,

"Not Guilty."