Disclaimer: Characters in this story are owned by J.K. Rowling, yada yada.

Author's Note: I use muggle clothing for the people in this story, only because I wouldn't know if they wear different types of robes and whatnot outside of Hogwarts.. Soo, muggle clothing for the variation of what they wear. Well.. I hope you like it. (:

Also, I don't have any betas at the moment, so if you'd like to throw ideas at me and all that fun correcting, please say so in a review and post your e-mail. I'm new at having betas, so you may have to bear with me. Thanks!

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CHAPTER ONE

It had been three years since the destruction of Lord Voldemort and his wrath. Things were going well for the wizarding world. Society had slipped back into their normal lives after nearly a year of rejoicing and repairing. Now, the magical economy was at its peak in Britain. Hogwarts continued to be one of the finest wizarding schools in the world, as well as downright famous as the scene at which Voldemort fell. Finally, all magic folk could live undisturbed and protected. At least, from any terror as large in scale as Voldemort inflicted.

The Death Eaters had all been sent to Azkaban, guarded once more by dementors that had been rounded up and forced to gather around gleaming patronuses for days as punishment for their disloyalty. The other magical creatures that had sided with Voldemort had also been tracked down and harshly disciplined. Numerous Death Eaters committed suicide in horror that their powerful master had failed. They would rather die than face the gruesome consequences that lay before them due to their treachery to the public. Several of the younger Death Eaters were released early, to the dismay of many. The Ministry was much more sympathetic towards them than their older relatives.

A young man, tall and weary, held a tattered piece of parchment in his grimy hands. His hair was a mess, one could hardly tell it was once a silver-blonde color. His face was unshaven, his clothes just as tattered and dirty as the rest of his body. The effects of the dementors were still lingering upon the poor man as he wandered about the streets, searching for his destination.

"Come to my place and I can help you when you get out of Azkaban," said the friend that had given him the parchment three years ago. Now he was out.

And here was the place, after hours of meandering. He had forgotten how to navigate the streets, and who could blame him? Furrowing his brows in a questioning manner, the young man placed a free hand on the steel gates before him. Is it safe to enter? Of course it appeared normal from the exterior, but after all this time he still knew better than to doubt the presence of magical protection.

"Draco Malfoy."

The only display of his surprise was a twitch of his finger as he turned smoothly on his heel.

"Zabini."

The man standing before Draco was everything Draco was currently not. The man was obviously well-groomed, dark-skinned, and seemed relatively spirited in a conceited way. Blaise stood there with a slight smirk, clearly inspecting Draco's appearance. There was no need for words to explain that he fully disapproved, yet was faintly amused by it.

"I see you've been living well," Draco remarked rather indifferently. So his old classmate had been soaking up a wonderful life for the past few years, while Draco had slumped in a silent suffering in prison... Resentment bubbled inside of him.

Following a lengthy pause, and relentless staring, Blaise nodded curtly and opened the gates with a wave of his wand. "Do come in," he said, an aura of class floating about his voice. He strode quickly ahead and across the enormous lawn that separated the gate from a plain-looking home. As Draco made his way toward it, however, it revealed itself as a mere illusion, merging into the gorgeous mansion it really was.

As they stepped inside, a soft but clear voice rang through the fancy, dome-shaped entryway.

"Darling, is that you?"

It sounded as if heels were tapping against a marble floor, and sure enough, a beautiful young woman appeared above one of the dual staircases.

She halted in her steps when she spotted Draco. For a moment, she looked simply surprised, but it promptly faded and was replaced by a smile. "Oh, you brought company, how wonderful!" She made her way down the stairs, her voluminous blonde hair swaying. Once she approached them, she gave Blaise a swift peck on the cheek and then turned to look at Draco. She continued to smile, although her eyes betrayed the same reaction Blaise had shown regarding Draco's appearance.

"You remember Draco Malfoy, honey," Blaise announced to her absentmindedly, "and Draco, you remember Hannah Abbott," and took his leave without another word.

"Of course! I didn't recognize you!" Hannah giggled and turned, motioning to him to follow. "I'm sure you want to wash up."

Draco presented her with a weak smile and silently followed her, his brain absorbing the magnitude of the estate, among other things. He vaguely recalled that she was once a pink-faced, pigtailed girl. Much had changed, and she had definitely blossomed into someone beautiful enough for Blaise Zabini's standards. This was a sure sign of improvement.

He noticed that they passed by countless sitting rooms, restrooms, bedrooms, all seemingly there for looks. He also noticed that they were all tidy, not a sheet of dust in sight. He wondered how many house elves they owned.

Finally, Hannah showed him to a larger bedroom with its own magnificent bathroom. It was a spectacular place to stay, and naturally caused him to feel quite out of place. The walls were of a dark green hue, and the furniture appeared to all be derived of mahogany wood. To the left side of the room was a king-sized four-poster bed, neatly made with expensive-looking sheets. Of course, everything in this mansion was expensive-looking, and he doubted that anything wasn't. He felt inclined to take a long nap on the inviting bed, but instead closed and bolted the door once Hannah left, promptly heading towards his right, past a sitting area and a study area.

The bathroom was just as pleasant, with an unusually large bathtub, not unlike the prefect tub back at Hogwarts; he noticed there were no faucets nor handles. The relaxing beauty of the place was obliterated once his grey eyes met his reflection in the mirror. His outgrown and mangled hair fell across his face, giving him a moody appearance. He despised the way he looked, and was suddenly eager to bathe and change into suitable clothing.

In moments, he had flung his clothes aside. The bathtub magically filled to the top with tepid, bubbly water as a toe dipped inside. Draco let out a soft sigh of relief as he slid down and loosened his muscles. His eyes drooped shut as he breathed in the scent of flowers. He had forgotten how good a bath could feel. During his three years in Azkaban, the prisoners were magically cleansed with spells once every couple of months. It wasn't a particularly good system, especially because the spell was only mildly effective.

He reached over to the side of the tub and squeezed soap from a bottle. He then proceeded to wash his skin thoroughly and shampoo and condition his hair, removing all the residue. The bath felt so soothing that he was starting to nod off before he finally decided that he was done. The water in the tub vanished seconds after Draco stepped out of it. He dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist as he walked to the mirror above the sink.

Still dissatisfied with the way he looked, he snatched a bewitched razor and shaving cream and let it remove the mustache and beard that had started to grow. He wasn't sure how to dry his hair, however. His wand had been stolen by Potter three years ago, and he had never gotten a new one. He hadn't required one in Azkaban.

Looking around, he found what appeared to be a blow-dryer in a drawer. He waved it above his head—there was no "on" button—and his hair was instantly dry. Long locks of silky blonde hair fell in his face. He hadn't gelled his hair back in a while, so he searched around for some kind of hair gel. He found it in the same drawer that he had found the blow-dryer. It occurred to him that it must have been bewitched to provide people with what they wanted to use. Convenient. He was impressed.

Once he had slicked his hair back the way he liked it, Draco took two steps back and studied himself in the mirror, with the towel still hanging around his hips. He was as pale as ever, whether that was his normal skin tone or because he hadn't been in the sun during his time in prison. His upper body was not as toned as it once was; he hadn't played Quidditch either. He gently slid his fingers across the scars that were remnants of Potter's bleeding spell.

With a sigh, he sauntered to the closet to pick out a set of clean clothes. He found that everything seemed to be his size. After rummaging amidst the racks of clothing, he selected a plain grey dress shirt and black pants. There were no casual clothes to wear, he had noticed. He assumed that this was because Blaise was big on appearance.

Someone was rapping their knuckles against his door. He stole one last glance at himself as he passed the bathroom, and went to open the door. It was Hannah again.

"Sorry to bother you, but Blaise is having a little party, and he's invited you to join us. It'll be a nice surprise for everyone to finally see you again."

"All right.. I suppose I'll come.." Draco nodded slowly. It would be good to see old acquaintances again, but he also had nothing better to do this afternoon.

Hannah grinned, "Great, the party's out back—just join us whenever you're ready!" With that, she hurried away, leaving Draco to stroll slowly after her and contemplate about which of his former Slytherin associates he'd run into at this party. Not all of them had been sent to Azkaban, after all.

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Author's Note: So that was the first chapter, I hope you like it so far! It basically just explained some stuff, introduced people and setting, the usual boringness of the beginning of a story, hehe. Obviously our other star, Hermione, will make her debut in the next chapter.

Please review, I love reviews! I actually get discouraged and sad if I don't get many. xD So make me happy and let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is most welcomed, as is compliments, etc.

Edited: 11 December 2007