Disclaimer: I wish I did, but I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter or the Wizarding World: All credit must go to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.

Authors note: First of all hello and thank you for taking a chance on my story. This story is a complete rewrite of my first multi-chap Hermione Granger and The Legend of Ynys yr Enaid Bendedig. There were many things wrong with that story and not just the writing (and believe me I'm not the best writer now) a lot of the storyline was forced to fit something that just wouldn't quite fit and rushed as I wanted to get it out there, as a result the story lacked. Whilst the first few chapters and spirit of this rewritten story are the same, a lot has been reworked so that the story flows better and makes a lot more sense- I hope. So here's goes...

~X~

Chapter One

Malfoy Manor

Malfoy Manor, what a joke that name had become.

Draco would never forgive his father for making him feel this way in his own home.

It wasn't theirs, not anymore. The house that ten generations of Malfoy's had called their home had been lost under his father's reign. Not that it mattered much to him. Lucius had been locked away under the protection of Azkaban.

Yes he may feel the miserable drain of the dementors every day but that was not true hell; this was.

Imprisoned in his own home, confined to his bedroom for days, even weeks at a time; only released to face the torture of his father's true punishment at the hands of the relishing and sadistic Death Eaters.

It had been made quite clear that Lucius's failings had cost the entire Malfoy family their standing.

Narcissa and Draco lived it day after day.

Draco could take the ridicule, the humiliation and even the torture but what was beginning to wear him down was the silence of the dark hours that was penetrated by his mother's screams.

It was knowing that he could do nothing to protect her that was slowly destroying him. Even if he tried, they would only kill them both.

So night after night he would lie there and listen, with nothing to do but bite down on his pillow and let the tears flow.

He could not stand it any longer. He could not listen to her cries again tonight, he had to escape.

The library at Malfoy Manor was magnificent by any standards but to Draco, it was more than just the thousands of volumes and impressive architecture. To him, it was his comfort like a steaming bowl of stew on a cold winter's day. It had always been his safe haven, his retreat when his parents had been fighting or his hiding place when his parents had invited over their many questionable guests.

The overpowering smell of dust and books had the power to calm and the draw of disappearing into another world proved too much temptation for him to ignore.

As soon as he stepped into the rooms comforting embrace a weight felt like it had been lifted from his chest. He tentatively walked along the first aisle running his finger along the shelf beside him.

The only light was the bluish glow from the midnight moon that streamed through the windows but Draco did not dare to reach for his wand. Instead, his eyes strained to see the titles as he scanned the shelves. He plucked a few books from the lower shelves and stashed them inside his robes before reaching for a small, rather rickety looking pair of ladders beside him.

Draco planted his feet firmly on the second rung and as he did the little ladders shuddered and jerked to life. They hovered just off the ground for just a moment before slowly floated upwards. Draco controlled their direction with just a shift of his weight, floating left and right, higher and higher until his pockets and arms were full of his favourite titles.

The ladders safely drifted Draco to the floor without a sound. He struggled to balance the weight of his burden but delicately found his way to the chair beneath the window. It was an ugly looking thing; ancient salmon coloured upholstery and almost threadbare on the arms, but it was his favourite and the most comfortable chair that Draco had ever sat on. It was in this very chair that his mother used to read him all of her favourite childhood tales when he was an infant. As he pressed his nose against it he thought he could faintly smell her perfume. Tears welled up in his eyes until he pulled himself away to throw himself into another world.

Draco took a very sorry looking book from the pile, it's spine was barely intact and the pages were dog-eared, but to Draco that was a true sign of a good book. He had read this particular one a hundred times before and it had never failed to cheer him up. Draco gently opened the book and tried to follow the familiar writing but it was no use. His thoughts kept drifting back to his father and the hate he felt for him.

Lucius had never understood his love of reading, he viewed the task a chore and a complete waste of time, he often admonished his wife for encouraging Draco to spend hours whiled away in another fantastic tale.

A distant clanging sound tore the thought of Lucius from his mind as Draco shot up from his chair, braced to attack. The pile of books clattered to the floor. Nausea swept through Draco as the sound reverberated across the room. He reached into his pocket to grasp the wand that he had stolen back only a few days before.

He felt as if he had taken a punch to the chest as the door was thrown open to let a sickly orange light penetrate the room.

Draco fought his natural instinct to freeze and reached for the pinch of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder from his other pocket. He threw the powder against the floor to shield him whilst he darted behind a bookshelf. He leant his back up against it, fighting his lungs to draw a breath.

"Who's there?" Croaked a familiar voice.

A temporary relief allowed Draco to compose himself before he stepped out to face the intruder. "Rodolphus," he sneered.

"Ahh nephew," Rodolphus growled with a delighted grin. "Tut tut, why are you out of bed? I can't imagine anyone gave you permission to be roaming the halls this late at night," the man chuckled baring his rotting, brown teeth.

Draco regarded his "Uncle" with contempt. "Must I remind you Rodolphus, this is my house," he spat.

"Not anymore, kid," Rodolphus cackled.

His words hit Draco like a lick of leather whipped across his bare skin. Draco squared his shoulders and thrust out his wand.

Rodolphus regarded him for just a fraction of a second before letting out a howl of laughter. He took a few steps closer to Draco so that his nose was almost touching his.

The stench of his breath turned Draco's stomach but he stood unrelentingly, glaring back at him.

"You dare to threaten me, boy," Rodolphus growled as he pressed his wand deep into Draco's throat.

"I dare," Draco smiled as he raised his own wand and jabbed it into his uncle's chest. He opened his mouth to utter a spell but his uncle was quicker.

"Petrificus totalus," Rodolphus roared.

Draco struggled as he felt the invisible ropes snake around his body, binding him. As he was thrown to the floor, his head smashed against the unforgiving marble floor. The pain swirled in his head as he felt a sticky wetness build up underneath his head but he fought against the dizziness and unconsciousness that tried to draw him in.

"A lesson in manners is needed, I think," Rodolphus sneered as he thrust back his foot before smashed it into Draco's stomach.

Draco lay perfectly still, unable to bend over or hug himself tightly to fight the pain. His eyes welled up with tears as a cough that could not escape choked him.

The man cackled as his foot buried itself deep into Draco's gut again.

A black void threatened to pull him under but Draco would not give the man the satisfaction and battled to keep his eyes open.

"What an honour it is that the Dark Lord chose your home as the headquarters of the revolution yet you whine and cry at every possibility. You should be worshipping at our feet that we haven't disposed of you and you snivelling mother yet," Rodolphus paused and chuckled to himself. "The Dark Lord is saving that pleasure for your fathers viewing, when he finally returns. But that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun now, does it?"

Draco watched as his uncle flourished his wand and cast his spell. The jet of red seemed to shoot towards him in slow motion. Draco felt what was coming before it crashed and spread throughout his body.

The spell that bound him kept him still and silent but inside, every fibre of Draco's being was burning and screaming. Rodolphus inflicted the torture again and again until Draco finally succumbed to the welcoming darkness.