Draco closed his eyes, trying hard to forget what happened. He wanted to sink, forget about reality and disapear into an alternate world where his family accepted him and where, well, still his family.
But he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried he was dead to them, and now he had no where to go untill he went back to school for his 8th and last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy.
His parents blamed him for what happened during the war, he wouldn't let them mark him as a death eater, he had worked with Snape and Dumbledore, as a spy and saved their lives, helping The Chosen One kill Voldemort once and for all.
However his actions had cost him his family, his home and the life he had known for 17 years.
He walked slowly, dragging his bags behind him as he walked, head down the remaining 10 minutes to The Leaky Cauldron, where he planned to stay for the rest of the week. Before he packed his bags he had stolen a few valuables and as much money as he could, luckily he hadnt been caught. Half of him was glad to be gone, to be rid of the pressure to be the perfectly composed deatheater, killer of mudbloods and traiters, just like his father.
But in his heart he knew he could never be what they wanted, he wanted to help people, to be good, but he didnt know how.
Little did he know that would change when he went back to his last year at Hogwarts...