A/N– It's great to be working on something again. Sorry for discontinuing They Are Us but my muse just fell over and died. However, when I was waiting for my brother to finish something up, I scribbled down the first chapter of this.

This was the initial checklist for my story- "Unique, Romantic, Clever, At-Times-Funny, Bantery, Exciting, Deep, Post-Hogwarts, Mysterious, and Tragicheroesque."

Without further ado, I present to you High Crimes Against Mister Riddle.

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"Come forward, Malfoy" spits his aunt, avid to rid her blood red lips of the offensive name.

Blood. I see too much blood these days.

She had been his favorite aunt at one time. It was almost funny to him that they had called themselves family back then. He loved hearing her gruesome stories and seeing that convicted, ardent spark in her eyes as she rambled, dramatically, about all things macabre. If he wasn't encircled by bloodthirsty Death Eaters, he may have let out an pseudo chuckle. One could say that Draco Malfoy had a sardonic sense of humor, but he feels that laughter is a gift and will take it in any form it presents itself. He has tried to forget some of his scarlet-stained past and in doing so lost his mental grip on his lighter memories. He can hardly remember the last time he laughed; he fears that he may have forgotten how.

"Death to the boy!" calls out a quivering voice.

"Control yourself, Pettigrew. The time for your input will come in due time. Now, you must be patient," he said, with mock concern, "as I decide upon a proper punishment by reviewing his penalties against our league. I would hate to squander away our time by being vindictive, but I think it's imperative that we know exactly what treason he has committed. If we were to hastily dispose of him, he could carry his secrets to the grave. Do not fret, justice will be served."

That's the most bloody ironic thing I have ever heard.

Before he could react, they Imperio Draco and their master begins intricate movements with his wand. His eyes,

Those are not eyes. They are scarlet pits of death and destruction. Eyes are the gateway to the soul. In order to have eyes, one must have a soul; seven severed pieces do not count.

close in deep concentration as he recites the incantation softly. One moment Draco is seeing masked cowards and the next his life is whizzing by him. He sees his memories.

The library, the fight, the hill, the meeting, the letter,

He is horrified when he pieces together what they are doing.

the present, the truce, the necklace

He sees them stream out in a palpable red rope as the people swarm in closer, like moths to the fire. His memories are spinning around each other now, knotting and crossing and disappearing into eachother.

the night, the owl.

He gasped.

the girl.

Draco Malfoy knew that he would die a painful death when he saw the end of the rope fly into the mess of a pile it sorted itself out into chronological order. In one quick moment all of the ends spiraled inwards towards one point where they made a large crack and disappeared.

And then, red like his aunts lips, red like the blood, red like his past, and red like Voldemort's not-quite-eyes, an apparition appeared.

"My most loyal, we will be shown a slew of memories robbed from Draco Malfoy's highly guarded mind. Now, we shall see one by one the crimes this boy has committed."

How dare he meet my eyes with those slits of crimson hate.

"And for crimes against the Dark Lord, Draco, you shall pay dearly."

A/N– So I'm starting here. Every chapter for a while will tell of a certain crime and relive the memory and then at the end we'll be back here and we'll see what happens. Review!