Hi, new story, this is basically about Draco finishing his sentence at Azkaban and his life afterwards as he is forced to live like a muggle, the people he hates most.
Ten years, ten years and finally free. After three thousand, six hundred and fifty days, plus two leap days, in the horrible dark place called Azkaban, he was finally able to see the light and feel warmth on his skin again. It still gave him shivers, he had gone mad, he was worried they'll come again, like they used to every night. There was a law of protection for the prisoners from Dementors, they couldn't suck their soul or have any contact by touch. But that law had almost been abandoned, they didn't care what the Dementors did, they had no mercy for the followers of You-Know-Who, who had been dead for ten and a half years. It took five months for the Aurors to gather up all of the death eaters, and one month to punish them all. Most had their soul stolen from a Dementor's kiss; others were put in the cells of Azkaban. He was seventeen, below the legal age for a kiss to happen so he had to suffer the cold, damp prison of misery. No death eater had been decided innocent, they all had one of the two offers, prison or a kiss. The ministry had become absolutely inhumane.
Draco looked at himself in the mirror; he was in a new, shabby apartment. He had just arrived. His old lawyer had helped him out a bit with the new house arrangements. They had taken Malfoy Manor and sold it to a hotel company. They had given most of the Malfoy fortune to fix Gringrotts, even though it was Potter and his friends who ruined it in the first place.
His beard was long and straggly, his hair up to his shoulders, he looked at his knuckle which had 004567 on it, his number; the thing that had become his name. His hands were pale and his eyes had sunken in. His cheekbones were like sharp daggers. He was dangerously underweight, his ribs were ripping out of his skin and stomach groaning loudly. He looked at his blue eyes, they were bloodshot, everything about him was ugly, monstrous.
He collapsed into the broken bed and cried, he lifted his legs up and held them with his hands; he put his head on his knees and cried softly into them. He never wanted to become this. He rocked himself back and forth slowly; this was how he used to go to sleep in his cell. His body and clothes were the only source of warmth he had. The Dementors used to come in and torment his soul until there was nothing left, they wouldn't take his soul but would kiss him until there was barely anything left, they stopped, let him recover and then come back for more. It was like they were laughing at him, their way of entertainment. They'd return his broken personality each time, getting a damaged soul back was worse than losing it all together.
He had let his father take advantage of him, after all those years of his disapproval; Draco only wanted to make him proud. He wanted to make his daddy love him. He thought that if he became the man he was, then he would get the affection that was absent all his life. His mother was never there for him, all the times that he yelled and even hit him occasionally, she would just stand there and watch like it was normal for a father to punish his only son and heir in this way. He had grown to hate everyone that wasn't like them; he had turned into an emotionless bully just like his father. He had let You-Know-Who use him as a spy and also a murderer as well, well almost, Snape had killed Dumbledore, but if he hadn't, Draco wondered what would have become of himself.
He wanted his wand, Potter had stolen it off him, he had been wandless for so long now. The ministry had banned him from using magic ever again, if he did use it, it would be the kiss for him. He was exiled from the Wizarding world, the punishment didn't end at Azkaban; he had to live as a muggle forever more. A civilisation he didn't have a clue about, his father had forbade him even knowing about it and he would never dream of disobeying his father.
What would he do? How would he live? How could this life ever get better again? He wanted to go home, to Malfoy Manor, to Hogwarts. He had never made true friends at school but it was the place he felt most belonged to, even though he was a massive dick all the time, he still loved it. He just wanted to belong.
He slowly fell asleep in the small, broken down apartment in Camden, where he heard shouting from outside and other disturbing noises from next door. He didn't want to wake up again; he didn't want to live in the world, especially the one run by muggles. Everything was shit, he was still crying. He had gone to sleep every night crying. He had missed out on so much of his life, spent his life in a prison cell. All because he had let people take advantage of him. Just because he didn't have a fair start in life, he had been used all his life and he was sick of it. He was alone, no one in the world to care for him. His mother and father souls gone, he didn't even know how to fit into society again.
Draco went into a deep sleep but that didn't stop the nightmares invading him with the horrible monsters he had feared for so long.
Next chapter will be up as soon as possible so please follow or/and favourite if you enjoyed, and also review to give feedback XD