Prologue – Time to change

ONE YEAR AGO—20th August

Draco Malfoy stirred in his sleep. He turned around in his bed, struggling to free his hot, sweating body from the grip of his white blanket. His body cramped and he panted heavily before he shot up and fell from the large mattress to the cold stone floor of his room in Malfoy Manor.
Without realizing what had happened, he laid there; looking out of the doors to his balcony and into the large gardens. The first rays of sunlight started to light up the horizon and told him that it was early morning, probably six o'clock. Draco just stared into the space and only slowly, blood reached his head so that he could do more than just stare and watch.
He had always been slow after waking up.
A prickling sensation sprung to life in his cheek and his right shoulder, the right side of his hip and his left ankle where his body had crashed on the floor. "Merlin's beard," Draco muttered and sat slowly up, without putting too much force into his movements. A hiss escaped his lips while he managed to stand up. The white shirt and black boxer shorts he wore to sleep were wet and sweaty. And now his whole body hurt.
"What a good start into the day," Draco muttered darkly to himself and opened the doors to his balcony. The fresh morning air helped him to clean his mind and his fingers brushed through his white blonde hair in an attempt to tame it.
He was right—what a way to start his day. And only Merlin himself knew how he actually needed to look trustworthy and perfecton this one day. The war was over and an image of all the months here in the Manor overcame him, throwing his body down under the horror and desperation. It felt like a second nightmare but this time, he couldn't escape it by waking up. He was already awake. And the thing haunting him was his own mind.

A voice, whispering cold, cruel things, ghosted against his ear. "Oh, boy, if you didn't have such a poor excuse of a father, I'd grant you mercy… But well," The voice faded away, pain took its place. And plain bent his body into a cripple, into someone who was at the edge of madness.

His father looked at him, anxious but nonetheless demanding. "You will do this, Draco!" he bellowed but had to sit down on a chair; his voice had been broken at the end, too. "You will… You need…" Narcissa patted his father's shoulder, stroking over his hair; her cheeks wet from tears he thought she would never allow to fall.

The Astronomy tower of Hogwarts around him, Albus Dumbledore in front of him. The greatest failure of his life. "I can help you, Draco," the old man offered, looking oh so kind. Disgusting. His own voice was cracking with desperation. "You can't! You don't understand!" Dumbledore didn't understand. "He'll kill me if I don't kill you!" But inside, it was all too late, wasn't it?

Snape pulled at his robes, slapping him in the face at the same time. "Let me help you, boy, you cannot-" But once again—

nobody could understand."I can do this on my own!" His scream echoed through his head and the stone walls of Hogwarts seemed to fade into a swirl of grey as he broke into helpless fear like the boy he was.

And finally, the moment—the final one, he thought in a strange mix of bitterness and delight—had arrived. He was to die. But Potter came and took him out of the fire, back into hell that was his life.

Draco felt unbelievably tired as the torrent of memories stopped. He had fallen out of bed only minutes ago but if he was honest with himself (and that didn't happen too often), he could crawl back in immediately. His heart thumped so hard that the beats echoed through his head and pressed from the inside against his skull so that a dull pain started to form.
Malfoy Manor seemed peaceful and innocent under the morning sunlight but when the blonde had enough control over his senses again, he looked at this beauty with guilt. People had died here—mostly mudbloods or muggleborns—and people had also suffered here. People as innocent as the trees and flowers of the garden in front of him. And he had watched.
It was summer and in a few days, he would return to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to finish his education. But he was afraid of it. Because he would see the heroes of the nation, the Golden Trio, and he would feel dirty beneath them.
And the guilt, remorse and envy would probably kill him.
On the other hand, he truly wished to return to the school and prove one thing at least—that the time had come where even a Malfoy (pureblood and ex-Death Eater) could change.
With this satisfying thought plastered to his mind, Draco went back inside and forced the dark thoughts of tortured people and a bloodied floor to the back of his head. His house elf, Belky, stood in front of the door and bowed deeply as she caught side of him. "Master Draco," she squeaked and her large eyes looked at him with a spark of happiness that couldn't be hidden. "Belky is proud to report that Mistress has left the bed. Belky had brought Mistress her calming potion when Mistress was dressing and Mistress told Belky to bring her dear son down to breakfast!"
Though Draco felt the sudden urge to rub his temples because of the torrent of words, he forced an honest smile on his lips (because the news did really please him.) "Wonderful, Belky. Tell mother, I will join her in a moment, will you?" The elf pulled excitedly at the grey rag she wore as a dress and bowed a few times in a row. "Yes, of course, Master Draco, Belky excuses herself for being so bubbly but Belky is so excited!"
This time, the smile came by itself. "It is no problem, Belky. I feel as happy as you look, I assure you." The female house elf bowed three times, mumbling "An honor, Master Draco, yes, Mistress and I will await Master downstairs" and disappeared with a crack and a few blue sparks.
If he hadn't been Draco Malfoy, he would have liked to hum. It was as if his breakdown and the horrible night hadn't even happened. Even his mother was starting to change, starting to leave her bed. Maybe… Maybe she would overcome the war and the whole Voldemort incident. And maybe she could start a life that was near to the one she had before the Dark Lord had decided to make himself at home in the manor. And before his father had been once more imprisoned.
With a final feeling of positive excitement in him, Draco decided to finally make himself ready for facing his mother. He went into his own bathroom, undressed and took a quick shower. After that, he hurried with the rest of his normal morning routine and returned to his sparsely furnished room. It only contained a (pretty large) bed, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers. Since he had spent most of his childhood being educated, studying or playing with Blaise and Pansy outside, he hadn't cared about his room. When he was old enough to do so, he started Hogwarts and only spent two months in the year in his room. The last year, he had been all too present but had other things on his mind than re-decorating his room. (Seriously—he had been too scared to even ask his father or mother about it, with Voldy on his heels.)
A few minutes later, Draco entered the dining room in the clothes that Belky had laid on his bed while he had been in the bathroom. He was positively surprised as he had seen them because not Belky but his mother had chosen the clothes. And she hadn't done that since… a long time ago.
The pair of black trousers and the white button-down shirt wasn't what he would have chosen to wear to breakfast with his mother but she had tried at least.
Narcissa Malfoy looked like a shadow of the woman he had known his whole live. Her pale skin looked strangely grey, her cheeks were hollow and dark circles lay under her blue eyes. Her favorite dress hung loosely on her form and the white cloth didn't suit her anymore. It just pointed out how tired she looked and how thin she had gotten.
"Good morning, mother," the younger spoke quietly and sat down next to the head of the table where she sat. "Good morning, dear," she replied and showed him what must have been a genuine smile but looked more like a forced smirk. Before all the things that had turned them into a mess, he would have locked his feelings and observations in the depths of his head and start to eat. But it was different now. With Lucius in prison, he, Draco, was the new head of the Malfoy family and could change things. If he wanted.
He decided he did.
"Though I am really happy to see you out of bed, I must say you still look horribly tired, mother." Her blue eyes sparkled for a moment with the attempt to prove her son wrong but it died as quickly as it had sprung to live. "Yes… Maybe I am. But… Well, I guess it doesn't make sense to avoid things like we did before… that."
Narcissa's hand wandered over the table—greyish and quick, almost like a spider—and her long fingers wrapped themselves around Draco's. "As… foolish as Lucius' and my… views have turned out to be," she started with a quivering voice, "your reputation as Draco Malfoy can still be rebuild." Somewhere between his lungs and his throat, his breath had been caught. "You are young and people had enough time over the years to get an image of Lucius that will help you to start over your live because they knew how he was."
Those words were replayed in his head over and over again. "Y-you think so?" was all he could manage to ask. All his sarcasm, cleverness and witty remarks had gone to the mud.
The long fingers around his hand loosened and suddenly, she patted his hand, his arm and stroked over his cheek. "As much as I hate to admit it—Lucius has played a role in the public that is close to an ignorant, selfish bastard." Before he could proceed the harsh words his mother (well-raised pureblood with exaggerated manners) had used, she continued without so much as looking sadder. "It makes me angry to think that Lucius' so-called misbehavior will be the gate to a new life for you… But it seems to me that this is the only thing that we have done right as parents for you, dear."
When a lone tear escaped her eyes, she wiped it away with the back of her free hand.
"Mother," Draco stuttered and wanted to say more but she raised her hand and stopped the flood of words, feelings and thoughts that would be tumbling from her son's lips.
"Enough for now, dear." Her lower lip trembled and fiddled with the napkin in front of her. Immediately he stopped and changed his helpless attitude to that of a strong young man. He had more than enough practice to shut his feelings away, didn't he? Why not put it to use for the first thing that was at the edge of being pleasant.
Belky appeared at Draco's right side, between his mother and him and they looked at the small elf expectantly who bowed before raising her voice. "Mistress and Master Draco, please excuse Belky's interruption but the breakfast the Mistress had ordered for eight starts to turn cold. And there has been a more than obtrusive owl which has delivered this letter for young Master Draco."
The elf pulled out a letter from out-of-nowhere and presented it to her Master with her head bent down. The moment Draco took the thick, yellowish envelope in his hands, he recognized the emerald green ink that told him:

To

Draco Lucius Malfoy

The Dining Room

Malfoy Manor, Outskirts of Surrey

England

Narcissa surprised him again, this time by being almost as excited as one of those letters had arrived for the first time. "Open it, Draco," she demanded and smiled as he looked at her, clearly irritated. "I fail to calm down myself more and more… Now open it!"
He ripped the back open as he was told and pulled three sheets of paper out.

Dear Mister Malfoy,

As you have confirmed in an earlier letter, you will be continuing your education at Hogwarts.

As you already know, every pupil of the last year will repeat their school year. Because of this and the new first years, Hogwarts will be more crowded than usual. I, the headmaster, together with the faculty have therefore decided to give the seven years—since it is your final year at Hogwarts—a decision.

You can either return to Hogwarts as usual or take UTZ exams in half a year on your own. For the exam, you can either be home-educated or take a special course.
Please let your answer reach us as soon as possible. You will find the information about the special course and the usual listings of books you will need in this envelope as well.

If you have questions, do not hesitate to write and ask.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall, Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

Since Narcissa had read the letter over her son's shoulder, Draco didn't have to tell her about it. She looked at him expectantly. The silent question "What will you do?" hung in the air. "I…" He stopped mid-sentence. The only question was if he was to leave his mother for a whole year or half a year. She would be alone and maybe depressed (again) either way but… half a year or one whole year. The decision was harder for him that he would have assumed while reading the letter.
"I will take this special course. So that I can finish my education and can still help you with the manor." A slow sigh escaped from Narcissa's lips. In her eyes, Draco could see how she didn't want to force this decision on him but how grateful she was for it at the same time.
Sending a reassuring smile at the blonde woman, he turned to the elf. "Bring us breakfast, Belky," he ordered and the elf disappeared at once. They silently started to eat and the blonde young man was sure that this decision would lead to a number of changes.
The only question was if he would regret one of them.

A./N.: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not earn money with this.
Hope, you enjoyed; question/critique(s) welcomed. :)

—Kissufication