PROLOGUE
Draco would never forget those eyes. He remembered seeing them for the first time on his first ride to Hogwarts, a place where he thought he would be free to be his own person and finally be rid of his prejudiced arse of a father. He remembered being so hopeful, so full of wonder and eagerness for the better days ahead. He thought now with scorn that he could not have been more wrong. He would never be free from his father mistakes and those eyes - also full of wonder and mirth - would never look at him the way he always dreamt of. He would never look into those brown round eyes, always so big and curious and infuriantingly smart, and see his infatuation reflected. Hermione Granger never so much as looked his way without disdain or hate. He wouldn't blame her, though. He made his bed and he was ready to lay on it.
Hermione thought that she never saw those silver pools look more sad, even though sad was not the perfect description for the boy with slumped shoulders sitting at the Wizengamot, waiting for a veredict for the alleged crimes he had commited. Hermione could not agree less with any of the accusations. He was just a boy doing whatever he could to survive. Yes, he was a presumptuous bastard but how could he not be having Lucius Malfoy for a father? He was also the boy who didn't sell them when he had the chance and the boy with silver eyes that lingered a bit everytime said eyes thought she wasn't looking. She would never forget those eyes and the hopelessness that they held.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy, for your association with Death Eaters and the war crimes commited by you, including planning the murder of Albus Dumbledore, we sentence you to seven years of imprisonment at Azkaban. A trusted member of the wizarding society will be named to make frequent visits to check on your evolution and adjustment to our new order and to evaluate the need for a review in your setence", said the President of the court. Since Malfoy haven't said a word, the man asked, "do you undestand, boy?"
"Yes, sir", Draco answered, being taken away from his daydreaming of different lifes and fuzzy hair. He just wanted to leave, to be locked away as fast as possible. He was a failure and he knew that but he didn't want Granger to see him like that. Worst deatheater ever and now a convicted cripple. He didn't want to see hate or contempt on those eyes. He wanted to remember them round and shining and keep them like that in his mind, locked away at a special place, a place he wouldn't let them ruin. A place to where he would run every night and hope to be the last thing he would think of before he died in a cold forgotten cell in Azkaban. And because of that, Draco kept his head low when the guards came to take him. Had he raised his head, he would see brown eyes full of outrage and fuzzy hair that crackled with indignation as Hermione stared bewildered at the court members.