A/N: i'm currently re-reading the Harry Potter serie and i thought of this fic. so here it comes, the story of Draco and how he met his wife.

Disclaimer: i do not own Harry Potter. i wish i had the brilliant idea and intelligence to write it though. i would never have to work again.

He didn't even know where he was. Not that it mattered anyway but it was still strange to walk without a purpose. He was still in London, that much he could tell because there were too many people around: muggles going about their muggles business. There was a time, not so long ago, when the thought of walking among muggles would have repelled him. That time was over. On the contrary, he was glad to be walking here because no one knew who he was. No one stared at him with cold hatred. No one called him names. No one spat at him.

Two years. It had been two years since it had all ended. But to him, the end had begun sooner. Three years ago exactly. When he was standing on that tower and hadn't been able to do what he was supposed to do. Not that it was easy. Or that he really wanted to do it but he had no choice. And still, he had failed. The worst school year he had ever had.

A cat jumped in front of him and he waited to see if he was to transform into someone. But nothing happened. Cats were cats here. He resumed his walking. What was he thinking about? Ah yes, the night when Albus Dumbledore had been killed. He was so tempted to accept his offer. To be on the right side. The side of good. Even if it meant being on Potter's side. But then, they had appeared and everything had happened so fast. Dumbledore had been murdered by Severus Snape. At the thought of his old potion teacher, something like sadness rushed through him. To think that all this time, he had been on the side of good. That he was lying to Voldemort. Thinking about him was hard, painful. He shivered and tried to block the thoughts of the dark lord but it was impossible. He was always there with him.

He was distracted by music coming from a bar. He glanced inside and met the eyes of the waitress during one second then turned his head away. She was just a muggle, not worthy of his interest. He turned left in the next street and walked a few metres before realizing that it was a dead end. He stared at the wall for a minute and turned around. Then froze. Two people were blocking the way out. Great, he thought.

"are you lost, Malefoy?"

"Yeah, do you need help, Traitor?" The other one added, moving an inch closer.

"I'm just walking."

"Well, we don't like the thought of you walking free like that. We think you should be with your father, waiting for the dementors to suck your soul out."

Draco felt anger flash through him but he didn't say anything. He was used to this.

"what, you don't have anything to say?"

"I don't think you're here to talk," answered Drago sarcastically.

"You're right. We're not. We're here to give you what you deserve."

Draco saw them pulled their wands but he didn't take his. He was tired of fighting. Let them have their revenge and then he could go home. Or at least what was left of his home.

The guy on the left whispered " impedimenta" and Draco was thrown on the floor, blood escaping from a wound he now had on his head. He heard the two guys laugh. Then another spell hit him and his face touched the cold ground. Anger shot through him, and in one quick move, he was standing on his feet, pulling out his wand. He tried to ignore the loud thumping of his blood rushing to his head. Before he could say any spell, the guy on the right shouted "expelliarmus" and his wand was sent away from him.

He saw the other one prepare to cast a spell and tried to jump out of his trajectory but he wasn't quick enough and the spell hit him hard. His head hurt the wall and he fell on the ground. Black spots were now invading his eyesight. Then he saw something weird: the guy on the left yelled and fell as well. The other turned around, then Draco heard a loud "thump" and the guy fell too. The last thing he saw before closing his eyes were two black boots walking in his direction. Then darkness and its welcoming numbness took him in.