We begin in unhappy times (well, happy times), Draco may (or may not) have lied about his NEWTs, we meet the daughter of the missing Death Eater Dolohov, and she totally can't remember "ginger" root.

May, 1998

All Tabitha could seem to think, as she sat with her hands beneath her legs, on a bench in the Ministry of Magic was "I'm twelve. And a Ravenclaw. What can they want with me?"

But her name, Dolohov, that name carried weight. No one was sure where her father, Antonin, went after Flitwick overpowered him. Could she know? And the girl had been born in Azkaban of all places, hadn't she? And where was her mother? Who was her mother?

Tabitha very much wanted to see her Aunt Liri. Liri was as close to a mother as she had ever known growing up.

She'd only seen her father one time. It was before she had even begun her studies at Hogwarts. He broke out of prison, Azkaban, and he'd made a stop to see her. That was what she had thought, when Aunt Liri made her pull on her nicest dress, combed out her hair long platinum hair, and brought her downstairs.

But the cold, dark, grizzled man standing in front of her did not seem to be here to visit her, per se.

"How is her magic?" he asked her Aunt.

"Strong, brother," she said, "Your daughter is a quick learner."

"And does she fight?" he asked.

"I have a sparring tutor for her. He assures me she accels."

He nodded and paced over to her. For someone who had recently escaped Azkaban, he was remarkably clean and put together. It was probably one of the first things he'd done.

Towering more than two feet above her, he had grabbed a chunk of her hair, inspecting it from the roots. She held in a yelp and some burning tears. Then he grabbed her right arm, letting go of the fistfull of hair thankfully, and felt her wrist.

"She's skinny," he told her Aunt.

"That's… well, if you're ever concerned with…"

"Out with it!"

"With her marrying, it will be better if she's a little leaner," her Aunt said lightly, not meeting Tabitha's eyes. Hearing her aunt say that though, if she were being honest, was the moment she grew up.

"Oh, I do not trouble myself with matters like that," he said with a scoff, "Fine, do what you think is best. All I order is, no matter what, keep her in Bärgadestad; she must go to Durmstrang. But, no more, I must be off now."

He gave Aunt Liri a curt handshake with a pat on the shoulder, but didn't bother to acknowledge her anymore than that before he apparated.

"Do we even know when he'll be back?" Tabitha had finally managed to ask.

"He probably won't dear," she said and knelt down to her level. "See? It's better this way."

Well, she hadn't gotten invited to Durmstrang, which was strange. She thought her father would have been able to pull some strings. Either way, she had actually wanted to go to Hogwarts. Stories of school there seemed much more fun and inviting than the 12 hour school days at Durmstrang. The real surprise came when she became the first Dolohov to be placed in Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin. Her Aunt didn't know what to make of it but, she wasn't unhappy. Liri was one of the few that supported the Dark Lord only out of consideration for her family. And, right now, her only task was to watch over Antonin Dolohov's daughter.

Tabitha was thrilled. The Ravenclaws weren't brooding or viciously competitive like the Slytherins. And Hogwarts was even better than she'd ever dreamed. She couldn't wait until she could finally visit Hogsmeade.

And then, just as her second year rounded out, Hogwarts was attacked. At the end of it all, instead of celebrating in the streets like the rest of the wizarding world, she found herself waiting to be interrogated at the Ministry instead of back at home in Sweden for vacation.

It was while she was still waiting that she saw the Malfoys. All handcuffed, Draco included, they rounded a bend in the hallway. Tabitha had always had a crush on Draco; the hair, the piercing eyes, the lean frame, and sharp features… how could she not? He was every 12-year-old girl's dream. But, not only had they not been in the same house, Draco was a 6th year when she first arrived to the school. He didn't have a clue who she was, probably.

She was sad to see him like this now. One of the things that made him so attractive was his overwhelming confidence, the way he held himself with authority. He'd been made Prefect when she'd started her second year. The previous year, she had noticed him lose his proud posture and begun to slouch, almost cower. She'd noticed him grow even thinner and even paler, his eyes becoming sunken. She'd noticed because her crush had grown wickedly fierce over the course of her first year there. She'd gossiped about it a bit with other girls in her year, but most of them preferred Harry Potter who had mysteriously disappeared… until the Battle of course. Still, the battle aside, it had been nice to see Draco with some of his swagger back as a Prefect.

And here Draco was now, looking about as shrunken as she'd ever seen him. He was practically balling himself up while still managing to stand and walk forward; he clearly wanted to disappear. His parents, on either side of him, were still standing tall and proud but it was a laughably transparent facade.

As soon as they had walked past, they were gone. None of them giving her so much as a second glance. And then, she was called in for own interrogation.

If Draco had thought the days after the Battle of Hogwarts were tough, he should have seen how the weeks would pan out. And as the weeks became torturous, he should have foreseen the upcoming months. Once he realized his family was in for a truly and debilitatingly long set of consequences, Draco wondered if it might even be years before the Malfoys found any peace.

He supposed he should be happy. Voldemort was gone. He still didn't like to say the name but could think it. His childhood home was no longer overrun by Death Eaters and murders and torturings. Now it was just overrun by Ministry workers looking for every shred of evidence they could fine and every drop of money they might be able to squeeze out of them.

But, all things considered, since his family hadn't participated in the final battle of the Second Wizarding War, they were at least kept out of prison. Now, they were just hated from all sides.

Draco was virtually cut off from all of his friends. In an effort to remain free of suspicion, the once close families of Slytherin cut of ties. No more Crabbe, no more Goyle, not even Pansy. And the very worst of it was how Potter had saved him. But, even he had to admit he was thankful.

And there were other things to be thankful for too. Come the end of the year, the Ministry had finished its inspecting (or raiding) of their home and called out. So rich were the Malfoys, they'd only managed to clear about half their wealth which still left his family one of the richest in the Wizarding world.

Plus, before the Battle of Hogwarts, he'd managed to get almost perfect NEWT scores. He had a lot of career options, but it seemed best to keep his head down for a bit as it seemed unlikely anyone would hire a Malfoy so soon. So he spent his 18th year in the world in relative peace, the only disruption caused by the comings and goings of the Ministry. It was good for him, somewhere deep down he knew that; he needed a respite after all he'd been through.

The Ministry had released her relatively quickly and easily. It didn't take long for their interrogators to sift through her mind and see 1) She had no idea where her father was, had been, would be, or what he had or was doing. 2) She had not grown up trained to support Voldemort, was firmly on the good side, and likely always would be. Not even realizing her aunt had been taken from Sweden, Liri was released similarly and they were able to go home together.

Tabitha returned for her third year at Hogwarts fall that year. She had her first trip to Hogsmeade, finally. She made Ravenclaw's Quidditch team as a Chaser. She even had her first kiss with a very nice but fairly pudgy Adam Warselton in Hufflepuff. But always, in the back of her mind, was her father.

Unlike the now-famous tales of Harry Potter, her father had never bothered to drop her special gifts after escaping Azkaban. And now he was just dead. Liri told her to move on. Do her best at Hogwarts and get a good job. But Liri was getting old. Soon, Tabitha feared, she might not have any family left.

Fall, 1999

Just over two years after he'd left Hogwarts, Draco found himself back. He was only going to be there for a few months, not the whole year. In his year of "figuring things out" he'd decided he'd like to become a healer. It seemed like the perfect place to practice his multitude of skills while not stirring up any trouble or concern from the ministry. If anything, going into a position specifically to help people could only help his family's profile.

Not that he particularly wanted to do anything to help his family. Draco was disillusioned. At first he hadn't exactly been able to articulate how he was feeling; he was unused to not having family pride. And while he wasn't able to entirely erase his bigotry towards Mudbloods, he was shocked to be able to admit to himself it was, in fact, just bigotry. And so he blamed his family and their legacy. They were the ones that had instilled all this in him. They were the ones that had put him on the wrong side, punished by the Dark Lord for his father's mistakes. They were why he had been shaped into the type of person Potter would never let become an Auror.

And that was when the word hit him. Disillusioned. Disillusioned Draco, the title always made him crack a wry and sad smile.

Anyway, as well as he'd done on all of his NEWTs before the end of the war, he hadn't gotten an O in Herbology, which was required to become a healer. At the time, in his seventh year at school, he may or may not have told people he got straight O's. He swore, he couldn't remember. He'd, quite unfortunately, been at the mercy of some Death Eater torture back in the day and he was pretty sure it had inadvertently wiped some of his memory. Well, all the more reason to become a healer.

He got an apartment in Hogsmead for his months of studying, not wanting to live at Hogwarts or with his parents. Surprisingly, his mother and father seemed to completely get it. They'd put up with his sullen, quiet attitude while he lived with them doing nothing the previous year. They'd seemed guilty, though loathe to show it or, heaven forbid, actually talk about it. And so, when Draco moved out and did the bare minimum to keep ties with his family, there was no push-back.

Draco had become a complete introvert, typically only interacting with the people that came and went from his parents' house. Hogsmead was much the same. There certainly weren't many people in the town he could relate to. He wasn't from a family of business owners, after all. And who was he supposed to talk to at the school? The students closest in age to him were two years younger and had no idea what being an adult actually meant. No, he preferred not to even enter the school and simply head straight to the greenhouses for private lessons with Professor Sprout, toiling over teething Tentaculas.

Sometimes Neville would be there but, after the first week they'd crossed paths, both of them had made an immediate effort to arrange their schedules on opposite ends. He'd been unable to hold back a sneering "Longbottom?" It had actually come out meaner than he meant, force of habit. Neville looked surprisingly well and had outgrown most of his childhood awkwardness… definitely not all of it, not by a long shot. But he was studying to take over Sprout's job; she was retiring in just a few years. Professor Longbottom at Hogwarts? Not bad.

He'd had to sit through an entrance interview with the Headmistress, McGonagall, of course. But that had been pretty unremarkable. She asked if he was well, keeping it short and curt enough to suggest she was aware he was not. But he said he was and they'd settled on a schedule and where he could and could not be. He could, for example, have all of his meals provided by the Hogwarts kitchens. Draco was actually planning to get his own House Elf but, for the time being, he preferred to use magic to make his own meals at his apartment rather than sit with students. He wasn't, though, allowed back in Slytherin's rooms now that he'd settled on an apartment.

Then there were the evenings he needed to use the library. Almost all of his work was done in the greenhouses, but there was a lot of refreshing from previous years he needed to do. He'd always hated Herbology; he never paid attention. Never used to pay attention.

He tried to go to the library as late as possible to avoid meeting other students. No one going to the school now could possibly be as stupid about studying as Granger, right? But, one night, just as he was memorizing the plants that were only strengthened by the Incendio spell, a young girl approached him.

Entering her fourth year at Hogwarts, Tabitha was absolutely shocked when, during one of her first weeks back, she passed none other than Draco Malfoy in the halls. He was coming from McGonagall's office. She'd all but forgotten her crush on him, but it came slamming back with full force upon seeing him. Well he didn't have quite the same effect on her as he had when she was 12—after all, she was 14 now, much more mature.

He looked older, surprise of surprises. But primarily, he looked better. Granted, that was no great feat given the bound state she'd seen him in after the last battle when she herself was waiting for interrogation at the Ministry. Doing her best to ignore him and go on with her life proved impossible as the whole school was gossiping about his return. Adam was skinnier this year! And keen to make out… er, his best approximation of making out anyway. He was nice; he bought her Butterbeer in Hogsmead.

They couldn't have possibly hired him as a teacher, could they? No, the professors lived in Hogwarts and, after just a week, everyone knew that he was renting a place in Hogsmead. He just seemed to be there studying. It was baffling. He didn't talk to anyone.

She hadn't planned to run into him, per se… she just happened to know he came to the library about a quarter after midnight every Thursday. And she also knew that she had a big exam in Potions the next day and she legitimately needed help. No, really, she did.

Her heart was in her throat when she entered the library and saw him. It was quite dim, his was the only lantern lighting the room. He didn't see hers in the doorway behind him because his back was to her. But she knew it was him, the hair a dead giveaway. He was bent over a book, looking intense. She hoped she wasn't interrupting him at too important of a moment… She reached out.

"D-Draco…?" Her hand touched the back of his cloak lightly, barely grazing him.

He spun on her, surprised and annoyed all at once.

"What?" he snapped, looking at the girl. She was young, maybe still in her third year, maybe her fourth. She was tall for her age and ridiculously skinny; she hadn't come into her own yet at all. Her hair was like his, though, so platinum blonde it was almost a silver-white. Hers was long and fell down to the middle of her back. She had dark brown eyes though; it was difficult to place her heritage. She looked very vaguely familiar but the only thing he could discern for sure was that she was in Ravenclaw, thanks to her blue and bronze tie. Uck, that bronze; he'd always found it such an off-putting color. But Ravenclaw was the only other respectable house besides Slytherin.

The girl was still standing there shocked into stillness. He tried to be at least somewhat nicer; he was an adult now and he didn't do things like bully children anymore. But it was hard as he'd had so little human contact as of late. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm Tabitha…" she answered finding her voice.

"Tabitha?" he asked, sneering all over again. "Don't be slow! How does that help me? Family name!"

"Dolohov," she said, biting her bottom lip.

He visibly recoiled. It was her father that had tortured him after Snape had killed Dumbledore instead of himself. He looked the girl up and down suspiciously. A Ravenclaw? He remembered. The girl had grown up in Sweden and Antonin had barely come in contact with her. He'd seen her a few times in his last years at school, but not thought anything of it beyond the initial recognition. There'd been a lot of other issues on his mind those years.

"What do you want?" he asked, feigning more irritation than he actually felt.

"Y-you probably don't remember me-"

"-I don't."

"O-oh, okay. Well when you still went to school here, everyone knew you were so good at Potions," she stammered, "I have an exam on wit-sharpening potions tomorrow… I could really use a little extra help, if you have a-any time?"

He rolled his eyes. Was she for real? Well, that potion wouldn't take him that long. "Fine, come on," he said and started a brisk pace down to the dungeons.

He did little more than watch her work; barking out instructions whenever she went wrong and occasionally stepping up next to her to demonstrate the best way to cut or stir during a particular step.

The girl was bright. It became apparent, very quickly, that she did not actually need his help. She was pretending to mix up the same two roots every time she began her brewing process. She wasn't a very good actress either. That meant one thing; she had a crush on him. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. Definitely a little annoyed, but it was also kind of cute. And it wasn't unwelcome—not that he was interested in a 14-year-old, ew—this was the first time that anyone had actually sought him out positively in several years. This was the first time anyone had sought him out, period, in a few years actually.

So he played along till she got it right and sent her on her way. It had been mildly entertaining, but he didn't wish to repeat the experience. And, god forbid, what if there were others? No, he had never wanted to be a teacher.

Tabitha on the other hand was ecstatic. She wouldn't have sought him out again anyway; after a perfect night standing next to him, even touching hands when passing ingredients, and smelling him (clean but musky). She wasn't going to mar that memory by nagging him all the time. So, after that night, she didn't look for him even once while he was still at Hogwarts. He was going to become one of those childhood crushes she never saw again, she was sure.

Thanks to everyone for checking out the first chapter. We start getting into the thick of it starting with Chapter 2 so please follow if you're interested in what happens once Draco goes on to… dun, dun, dun—real adult life! Reviews are always very much appreciated too!