A/N: I have also fallen into Drarry slash it seems lol. I hope you all enjoy this Work in Progress, as I work with this and my To Be Brave fiction. Sort of EWE (Epilogue, What Epilogue? ) and kinda sad. No promise of smut, I suck at writing it xD
The war was over. Voldemort was vanquished, and as the Wizarding world began to pick up the broken pieces of their lives, a happy glow of peace began to settle over the land. The students of Hogwarts who assisted in the war were hailed as heroes, none more than Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasely. Yet not everyone found a happy ending of sorts after the destruction. Those who were families of Death eaters suffered greatly.
Every true death eater was given the Dementors Kiss, after a heavily biased trial. The Malfoy family was no exception from this. Lucius was the first to be Kissed, and after heavy debate, it was decided that Narcissa too earned the fate worse than death. Their son was another story.
He stood before the Wizengamot and the new Prime Minister. The new Minister was a strong wizard, one cut of a different cloth from Fudge. He had been governing the wizarding world very well, and his proud stance brought a fear to the young Malfoy. Liam Mason, as muggle as his name sounded (He was a halfborn as it were), was a man who did not forgive easily. Every caught deatheater had been subjected to the Kiss or Death.
Malfoy's eyes flickered around the room, wiggling comfortably in the horrible seat he was placed in. He was bound completely, and utterly defenseless. But that was how it was supposed to be.
"Mr Draco Lucius Malfoy," Minister Mason read off the paper, his ice blue eyes staring into Dracos fearful gray ones. The ex-Death Eater, for however short a time that was, clenched his fists nervously, swallowing hard as his crimes were read to him. The Mark on his arm was blatant for them all to see, he couldn't deny he had been a death eater, even if he had done hardly anything with the group of Voldemorts followers. His own father had forced him into it, he had been governed by fear of his Father and the Dark Lord to do everything he had done.
"How do you plead, Mr. Malfoy?" Mason asked, setting down the scroll of crimes. His tone wasn't apathetic, rather highly curious.
"I can't deny those charges, but-"
"Then I hardly see a more fitting punishment then that of your parents?" He suggested, a few of the Wizengamot nodding in agreement. Malfoy went paler, which hardly seemed possible given his already pale and gaunt appearance.
"No, p-please, listen-"
"To what, Mr. Malfoy? I have given my ear to dozens of Death Eaters these past few weeks and none had anything of particular interest to tell me. I was cursed at, cried on, begged, everything. Please do not repeat their performances." Mason said, a growl in his voice as he leaned forward. Draco licked his lips, feeling sweat bead on his head.
"I can't deny any of that, but I will say I was forced into everything. I grew up in the house of an at the time ex Death Eater. He forced me to get the Dark Mark, and I'll admit to being to afraid of death to do the right thing." Malfoy said, praying to any god in the known universe to get him out of this. He still feared death more then anything. "Please just give me a chance. I have no wand-"
"You can easily acquire another through theft or some other-"
"-You can put some tracking charm on me to watch me, just give a chance to live without the pressure of family-" His throat tightened, thinking about his parents now soulless. "Without their pressure or the Dark Lord."
Mason turned to the Wizengamot, casting a silencing charm around the chairmen and women. They spoke, Malfoy swallowing and fidgeting uncomfortably. For a while they debate, although Draco could hear nothing of their words. Their actions varied form nods to throwing hands up in agitation. Mason was the calmest of all the reactions, nodding slowly or offering other suggestions.
After ten minutes, the silencing charm was broken, and Liam leaned forward, hands clasped together. Draco could felt his heart pounding as seconds crept by.
"Mr Malfoy, we have decided to give you one more chance," He said slowly. Malfoy slumped in relief. "You will have an array of charms on you to watch for any illegal or magical activity. If you so much as brush against another Witch or Wizards' wand, you will face life in Azkaban. Any illegal activity or even remotely dark magic and you'll end up as another victim to the Kiss. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," Draco said breathlessly.
o~o
After the War had ceased, and much of the worst publicity heat had passed, Harry Potter had returned to his property, eager to rest for once in many years. The house was still a mess, despite the Orders attempts in his fifth year to clean, however with Kreacher on his side, he was in the progress of getting it back to a more liveable state. It was a physical task, one he relished. However it was also a lonely one.
Ginny had been staying with her family as they over came their grief and new found monetary gain. The Ministry had fully recognized the Weasleys, their suffering and sacrifice, and had given them a new home, and Arthur a very high promotion. It didn't fill the Fred-shaped hole their all felt, but it helped them greatly. Harry had politely declined the invitation himself, pondering the idea of being alone with relish. He used to fear it, being alone, but after everything that had happened, he was more than glad to be left to his devices. Well, he did have Kreacher.
"Kreacher is ever pleased to help his master, sir," The elf croaked one rainy, dreary day, setting a bowl of stew before Harry. The adult smiled.
"I'm glad to have you here, Kreacher," He replied, taking a spoonful of soup to the mouth. The flavors burst over his tastebuds, and Harry found himself even more grateful for the elf's presence. He still had no skill in cooking, with or without magic.
Lightning clapped over head, followed by a roll of angry thunder. Kreacher mutter to himself about the violence of the story as he peered out the window, pulling shut a drapes. Harrys eyes flickered to one of the still open drapes, revealing the roiling clouds outside. A small smile crept on his face as the storm resurfaced an old memory. Ages ago it seemed, back when Hagrid had come pounding on the door of the cottage in the middle of the sea.
Another roll of thunder, but within it, a knock. It wasn't as grand as Hagrids entrance, but being lost in memory, Harry jumped at the different noise. Kreacher looked over to the hallway, shuffling towards the door without any order. Harry stood as he heard the door opened, walking out to the hallway as Kreacher closed the door behind...
"Malfoy." Harry said, grabbing his wand in wary habit as he looked the soaking wet blonde up and down. The other didn't have his wand out, and hardly looked as though he was looking for a fight, yet old habits always die hard.
In response to his name, the blonde looked up, eyes flickering to Harry's wand distrusfully.
"Put it away, Potter, Im not here for a fight," He said, jerking his head towards his wand. Harry insisted on holding it as he spoke.
"Then why are you here, and not in Azkaban?" Harry asked coldly. There was a sudden flash of pain in the gray eyes of Malfoy, and Harry looked the man over. He looked absolutely miserable, soaking wet and depressed. Kreacher shuffled away from Malfoy, and looked up to Harry.
"Should Kreacher set some food out for Mister Malfoy, sir?" He asked. Harry nodded, Malfoys eyes lighting up ever so slightly.
"Well, come on then," Harry said, still holding his wand tightly. Malfoy shuffled towards the kitchen, trailing a path of water where he went.
Malfoy sat where Kreacher laid out a fresh bowl of soup, Harry joining him, and still regarding him coldly. They ate in silence for a moment, but Harry's unanswered question was nagging at him.
"Why are you here, Malfoy?" Harry asked as the other had finished his food. Malfoy didn't seem to want to talk, looking out the window at the storm for a moment in silence. "Tell me or I'm kicking you back out in the rain. We've never been friends, Malfoy, and after the war, you aren't exactly a sight for sore eyes."
"I have no where else to go," Malfoy spat, looking Harry in the eye. "I know you don't like me, but everyone is gone, Potter. My parents are worse than dead, every friend I had in Slytherin are in the same condition, I can't go to my manor since the Ministry claimed it. I have nothing. I don't like you, but you're all I have for an option."
Harry stared at Malfoy, who had turned a tinge of pink, jaw set. The silence between them was long, broken only by the rumble of thunder and lightning outside. And by Kreachers hardly heard commentary to himself.