Years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices…
Why didn't you tell her? You knew it was me…
Well done Draco…
Draco…if we are the ones to hand him over to the dark lord…I was chosen!
AVADA KEDAVRA!
Draco awoke, sweat covering him. His left arm tinged with pain; the scar of was once there was always a painful reminder. He was used to having these nightmares by now. Every night for the past two years this had been going on, and he couldn't escape it. Even with the battle of Hogwarts and the fall of voldemort far behind him, not a day had truly gone by.
He was living in a room above the three broomsticks, because of the fact that after the war his father had gone to jail and their house was given up for investigation. His mother still resided at manor, but she had insisted Draco leave as to not deal with all the mess that would follow. He would never admit it, but the last thing he wanted to do was leave his mother.
Draco got out of bed, got dressed, and started downstairs. He was so frail and thin now, a shell of what he once was. It had to have been after noon by now. He usually slept late. He wore a big dark cloak that covered almost his entire face. Because of all his father had done during the war, to most people the Malfoy family was a disgrace so he'd rather not be seen. Sitting down in a dark corner, he ordered a large firewhiskey. That's usually how he spent his days. Drinking, and wallowing in his depressed state. Ever since the war Draco had changed. He was depressed, regretful, and really saw no purpose in life anymore. No one would ever accept him now. Life would be pointless. He couldn't even get a job, so he had to live on what little of the Malfoy fortune he had.
Suddenly he heard a loud ruckus coming from the entrance to the pub. Ten or fifteen young children stepped in at once. "Must have started a new term at Hogwarts." He thought to himself. It was so strange to see all the students. It caused him to reminisce on his years at school, which he tried to stay away from. They all looked so innocent, not a care in the world; something Draco desperately wanted back. He couldn't help feeling as if he was robbed of his childhood or at least part of it. "It's all my fault though. I chose the path."
That night, Draco hardly slept. Tossing and turning, his mind was still engulfed with thoughts of Hogwarts, regret, and nostalgia. As he did drift into sleep though, he began to dream. He dreamt about all he had thought the previous day. His younger years, his transformation into death eater, and then finally…everyone he had wronged or had died because of him. Dumbledore, Fred, Tonks, Lupin. He thought heavily of Harry, Ron, and Hermione also. The immense guilt woke him from his slumber. Breathing deeply, heart racing he said,
"I've got to set this right. I've got to fix this."