Hello!

My first novel, so I'm quite anxious! This was the story I had written for NaNoWriMo, and decided to post the first chapter on my birthday. I hope you like it! Please leave a review, here is the lengthier synopsis I had written:

'Draco Malfoy is a man who has suffered many fates. He watched his Headmaster die, he watched his school mate get tortured by his aunt, he watched as an evil psychopath invade his home and claim it as his own. He also watched the aforementioned psychopath kill his mother, and on top of that, he impregnated his best friend. But the war he watched unfurl at the tender age of 18 ended, and he was free from any conviction, but was inevitably tied down. Now, he was a proud father of Theodore Malfoy, a bright fourteen year old with a love for Astronomy. But when Theodore returned home for his Christmas, he watched as Draco's past caught up to him in the form of the torture and imminent death of his mother. Now in a comatose state, Draco watches his son act like a ghost, and he is willing to do anything to return his son to his normal state. But when Theo's new magical psychiatrist is Hermione Granger, complications and buried secrets arise, answering the one question in Draco's mind... Who killed Pansy Malfoy?'

I really wish you enjoy it, and please do leave some feedback! I'd like to know what you're thinking.

~RavenclawStudent.

The need to feel was unimaginable.
Pain didn't even penetrate him.
It's been too long.
His father... Bless his father. So desperate to return him to his original state.
Foolish wizard. Didn't he know?
Theo cannot return.

"I don't know what to do Daph, it's like living with the walking dead. He'll come downstairs, eat something small, then go back to his room and won't come out. He won't talk to me, he—he..." He faltered, unable to continue. Daphne put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He looked at her and she nodded. "I know he blames me." He whispered, sadness ringing through his tone. "I know he hates me because I wasn't there to save her... To save either of them." He felt the imperious feeling in his nose and knew that tears would gather in his eyes. Remaining steadfast in his volition to not start sobbing in front of his female companion, he bit them back. "I've already lost her, I can't afford to lose him either."

Daphne gazed at him sympathetically, rubbing his shoulder in a un-Slytherin like gesture.

"Draco, the boy is fourteen and he witnessed such a horrible crime. I can't deny he will be angry, and you're right, he probably does think like that."

"What part of this is supposed to make me feel better?" Draco asked miserably.

She sighed. "She's been gone for almost a month. You've had time to grieve but now you need to focus on your son. He's gone through a traumatic experience, he needs help." She said softly. "He can't continue like this." She had expected some fire back, some stubborn refusal from the pompous man that his son, a pureblooded Malfoy did not need psychiatric help.

But none came.

A truly dejected Draco made for a weak and desperate man.

"Okay," he mumbled quietly, sniffing. "You're right. He needs help."

Delicately, she offered. "Astoria was getting some help from a magical psychiatrist before she... You know." She shook her head, unwilling to mourn over her lost sister. "I can owl her. She's strictly confidential and really good, no-one knew of her identity other than the patients, who are sworn to secrecy anyway so the media isn't an issue. She had Astoria on the mend after a while before... Relapse I guess." She muttered. "Listen, I think we should face this issue as soon as possible but I won't do anything without your consent."

Draco's eyes flitted over to his room. Silent. He sighed and nodded. "I have nothing to lose... Apart from my son." Daphne nodded gravely.

"Come on."

"So I've spoken to her and she's given Theo an appointment next week, now all you have to do is tell him." Daphne told him. He barely registered what she said, his eyes glazed over at his son's room.

"He's not come out all day," Draco said throatily. "Has her death affected him so much?"

"Apparently," Daphne conceded gently. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Draco, he's in shock. Theodore will come back to you, just have... Just have some patience."

"He's so unlike himself Daphne, so different. It's like he's left the world, like he's retreated to his mind, as if – as if it's his sanctuary." Draco said with a tone of awe.

Daphne regarded him sombrely. "Don't drain yourself in thoughts like that Draco. He'll come back in his own time; he'll come back through this. Psychiatrists are really good in matters like this; you remember their prominence after the war?" Draco nodded. "It'll do him good. Just have faith, because if you don't then what hope does he have?"

"Theo? Theodore are you awake?" No reply. The ringing tones of silence responded. Draco sighed. "Can I come in?" He asked. Again, no reply, a sigh emerged through his throat. Now fighting the tears that wouldn't stop, Draco quietly told him. "I'm coming in."

Theodore's room was absolutely spectacular. Since Draco's discovery last year of Theo's new found love for astronomy, he had designed his only son's room befitting of it as a gift to Theo. The room was a dark, navy blue, his ceiling magically transformed to depict the image of the sky outside, similar to that of Hogwarts ceiling. He had a wide window on the left of his room, a blue window seat accommodated with it, so Theo could observe the stars whenever he liked. A bathroom was adjacent to the room door and opposite the bed, which was next to the window Theo adored. A neat wooden desk was nestled in the empty corner, a book shelf left to it for Theo's books to reside. The floor was lushly carpeted, and the room on a whole was mainly blue, his favourite colour. Draco smiled at the memory of Theo seeing it, his grey eyes had lit up in excitement and awe, the happiness positively radiating off of him. He had constantly chatted to Draco about it after hugging him so tightly and constantly whispering his gratitude. It warmed his heart, seeing his heir look so carefree, so happy, so young...

Now, barely a year after, Theodore Malfoy was sunken, empty and lost.

And seeing it had made Draco's heart burn.

Draco hadn't ever been this emotional and distraught. Not even when he watched his mother die, he had only become withdrawn. Not when his father tried to murder him, and in return he had to retaliate bloodily, forcing his father into submission and then incarceration, which had led to his death. Then it was simple apathy. But this was his son, one of the few who meant more to him than his life had. Theo was Draco's life, ever since he held him in his hands at the prematurely born age of eight months. And he had gone through exactly what Draco had, only it was much harsher and crude, and it was Draco's fault. He had failed to protect his son. He had failed to protect his family.

And Theo acknowledged that.

And hated him for it just as much.

Draco didn't know that specifically, for Theo had become reserved a day after the incident. He was his father however, and despite how clichéd it sounded, Draco knew. He knew that he had shattered his son's trust far beyond fixable. He had been Theo's role model for all his life, Draco wasted no time explaining his past and retribution to his son, and still he had loved and looked up to his father. But this… this was different. Theo had loved his mother just as much as his father and what he had experienced was wrong and unfair and the opposite of the life his parents had worked so hard to give him. It was all crushed into miniscule pieces; an irreversible experience that Draco had underwent and never wished upon his son. That was a prayer completely ignored.

Theo had not moved upon Draco's arrival, sitting motionless on the edge of his bed looking out at the haughtily black sky, charmed to show Theo's favourite constellations. Draco made his way slowly next to his son, his heart slowly ripping to shreds.

"Son?" He called, willing his child to reply.

Nothing.

Silence.

Draco's eyes leaked. Tears that would not stop falling.

He was sick of it. The tears and the pain and the torture and his son. Acting like this. So morbid.

So deserted.

He wiped them away hurriedly, approaching Theo's slouched body. He bit back a helpless groan at the sight of his beautiful boy. At fourteen, he already had grown out of his baby fat and definable cheekbones were settling.

Now hollow and grey.

Sparkling grey eyes, fiercely intense and stormy, coloured like the moons Theo loved to study.

Now blank and emotionless, still and empty.

His soft hair, so much like his father's, once blonde and healthy, shining much like his personality.

Now dirty and mangled.

He envisioned the perfect Azkaban prisoner.

Frighteningly, he looked very much like his grandfather.

"Theodore?" Draco said, half panicky.

He did not move an inch.

He did not even flicker.

He heard but did not hear.

Draco cleared his throat, strenuously working to keep his emotions at bay. "I've decided we need to take action on your… issues. I've made an appointment for you; I hope that is fine by you." Draco said tentatively. Theo appeared not to have registered what his father said. Draco's heart fell. "It's next week. I'll be back here before the appointment to check on you…" His presence was not acknowledged. "She'll be coming here for the first appointment and she'll want to speak to you so I can only hope you'll be ready."

Finding nothing more to say to his heir and the silence too heart-breaking, Draco walked out of the room after that, a fresh wave of rejection and despondency crashing over him. Daphne was in the kitchen, manually brewing two teas.

"So?" She asked as Draco grabbed a mug and sat on the island.

"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head and drinking his tea. He barely registered the scalding burn the hot tea left. "Can I have something stronger than this?" He asked but Daphne firmly shook her head, he narrowed his eyes.

"I saw the empty bottles in your study Draco; you know the answer to that already." She said scathingly with an underlying scolding tone. Draco nodded. "I guess now all you have to do now is wait for the appointment."

"Do you think it'll work?" He asked. Daphne stopped wiping the sugar off the counter. She faced him, her arms crossing over each other as she leaned against the stove.

She sighed. "I don't know Draco, I really don't. I can't feed you false hopes about the outcomes of this, I can only hope for the best and tell you that this woman... She's amazing. She incorporates muggle methods into her therapy and most people overcome whatever issue it is they come to her for. She's wonderful and I'm proud of you for giving this a chance."

Draco shook his head, looking down at his already empty mug. "I'm so desperate right now Daph I'll take just about anything, all I need is my son back."

"And he will come back!" Daphne told him with conviction. "He's a Malfoy; he won't be leaving anytime soon." Draco nodded, but Daphne's reassuring words did nothing to this ache set low beneath his stomach.

"Theodore? It's nearly time for the appointment!" Draco yelled from outside his room. When no acknowledgement was offered, Draco leaned his against the cool, wooden door. "Theo, please, please just... Can you please just come out? Can you just be willing for this appointment? Please..." his whispers truly reflected his pain. Nonetheless, he remained cool and composed. "Theo, if not for myself or yourself, then do it for your mother."

Silence.

Draco silently banged his head against the door.

And then...

Noise.

Rustling. Of duvets.

His ears perked up and he removed himself from the door. He could hear it. Surely, there were signs of life in there.

Then nothing.

"Draco?" Daphne called near the banister. "Draco she's here. Where is Theo?"

Draco glared at her, shaking slightly. "We are coming." Saying nothing more, he walked into his son's room.

Fighting back the tears wilfully, he sat opposite Theo on the bed. The hadn't looked at him, but Draco didn't expect it. He just sat there, watching his son through miserable eyes. How he yearned to hold his son, to be a comfort of some sort but he couldn't, he knewhe couldn't be a father to his son anymore because of the murder and the reminder of that was before him.

"Theo..." He began emotionally. His son's grey eyes were vacant and gaunt. "Theo, she's here. Please son, just do this for me."

A flicker of emotion swept the fourteen years olds eyes. Draco identified it immediately, he was sure of it, it had probably filled his eyes many times before.

Regret.

Then it was gone, leaving Draco to question whether he truly saw it.

He stood, glancing at his son one last time before coming to the conclusion that Theo would not be joining him for the appointment. He walked out of the room and down the steps, joining Daphne in the sitting room with who he believed was the psychiatrist. Draco, so consumed in his thoughts he did not even acknowledge her.

"Draco?" Daphne said softly, touching his knee. "Draco I'd like you to meet Theo's new psych, Hermione Granger."

The name snapped him out of his thoughts.

His head flew up in bafflement and he finally noticed, in front of him sat the woman he had barely seen in the last thirteen years.

"Granger?"

Dryly, she replied. "The one and only."

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