Summary: After the Fourth Year celebration for the End of War, Draco Malfoy comes home to the Manor only to find out that his mother had been housing a guest for two weeks now, and it turned out to be the person they all assumed was dead. The person kept telling him that she did what she had to do and that she was willing to pay the price her disappearance had caused. He was fine with it. Well, that was before he got entangled into whatever problem she decided to solve herself.

Author's Note: This is an AU. Characters are a little out of character due to the plot. I probably will not be describing what happened to each, but show them through dialogue instead. I also like pizza, and popcorn.

Disclaimer: Me no own Potter Harry. This is merely a fanfiction to satisfy me me me me and hopefully, you you you.

Waiting, always waiting.
If I gave you control would you say that we could've saved it? - Honest

Prologue

It wasn't raining that day.

The ceiling of the reception was charmed to look the same as the weather outside hence the grey colored clouds, looming gloomily over them; it was a shade darker than his eyes.

It was still fitting though, and he preferred things when it made sense. That day held the fourth gala for the End of War, an annual commemoration for all Heroes and Heroines that lived and fought and died for the Light, for the better future of the Wizarding kind. It was supposed to be a celebration yes, but not everyone finds the sense of normalcy and inner peace not when this day reminds them of the people they have lost to the bitterness of war.

He still found himself there.

Dressed in his immaculate thousand galleon robe, he stood near the entrance with a flask of Firewhisky on his right hand, his eyes scanning the crowd for anyone he knew or at least for anyone whom he could be civil with.

"Malfoy!"

Finally here then.

He turned to the source of the voice and for Old Time's sake had sneered, "Ah, Potty, Weasel, came to see the show?"

They were standing near him then, the two-thirds of Golden Trio. "Nice to see you too, Ferret." Weasley snorted.

"Real mature, Malfoy." Potter sent him a hostile look, but ruined the effect by shaking his right hand.

After the war, his mother had convinced him to finish his last year at Hogwarts before getting a spot in the Ministry, where he ran across the two-thirds of the Golden Trio. The three of them had gone somehow civil after three years of working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, with the two dunderheads as Aurors and him by the Investigation Department. The cases they took over the years had warranted more than necessary interactions and he found that the two can be at least be tolerable so as long as they stick in Quidditch and not cross some topics that will definitely make the Suicide Buddies fume.

"Seen anyone you know?" Potter asked moving to stand next to him, exploiting their civility to the public and blatantly expressing his propaganda somewhere along the lines of Prejudice can be overcome or It's time to make peace with the Past or something like that. When he began working with the duo, he was fairly annoyed at their attempts. However, even he had gone tired of trying to uphold images so he just let whatever happen happened.

"Not anyone I'd like to talk to." He responded wryly bringing the tip of the liquor to his lips, taking a small sip. He wasn't even supposed to attend this year. The last three were already hellishly boring enough to warrant sleep and if only he didn't let his mother to trick him into agreeing, he really wouldn't bother. He'd rather spend the boring day in the manor and try to read a book or something.

The Weasley family, whom he was also now a little civil with, had joined them a few moments later with Fineggan, Lovegood, Longbottom and Thomas. They proposed to be poised at the clump of chairs near the podium and he reluctantly agreed, still a little awkward around people he used to label as Blood Traitors.

He'd have to endure all those Guests speeches about the war, those pretentious people talking like they even had any idea what the war was like, when all they saw about it was safe houses, pictures, and edited stories out of retelling and the promise of everything will be alright.

Soon enough, the Hero of Heroes, Chosen One, aka Pottyhead was called onto the stage to give his own speech. He thanked everyone there at that day for helping and for still being alive to date, saying that he was just one person and he wouldn't have done that much if it wasn't for the help he received from all the people he knew. He said the names of his best friend and his family with his Fiancée included, the teachers from Hogwarts, his friends, people who stood alongside him and never gave up on his sometimes overbearing and pompous ways. Then he said he wanted to thank the late Professor Dumbledore, Fred Weasley, Professor Snape, his Uncles, his parents, and his other best friend that was still unfound to date. His voice wavered at this, but he regained by saying that that person was like a sister to him and that that person was strong and alive and he'll surely find her someday.

The crowd was pin-drop silent at this. It somehow irked him to know that the not-anymore beaver toothed, know-it all was able to cause this much anguish upon people. It's been four years though; the chances of her even alive are ten percent close to none, and everyone there knew that.

He left as soon as Potter finished speaking, solemn in his gait back to their group. The cue of the journalists to start snapping pictures had resumed as he offered a half-hearted smile at Weasley, and the emcee took over the stage once more to introduce the next speaker. On his way out, he could still hear soft whimpers emitted from the Potter fiancée and he gave a curt nodded before slipping out.

These were the reason why he swore he had a mini heart attack after coming home from the event to find the insides of the Manor busy, their house-elves' voices squeaking here and there. He could hear the voice of his Mother as he ventured the hallway and nearing the drawing room, with a familiar voice lively answering supposed questions given. Pinky was even exiting the room giddily when he reached it and upon seeing him, greeted him warmly before rushing off to her destination without another word.

He was about to greet his Mother when instead, he saw a cloaked person who appeared to be none other than Hermione Granger staring back at him with a halted smile, her fingers pausing at the base of her hood.

Ha, first chapter! Interesting? Yes? Cream Puff?