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Chapter 1

Draco turned the key within the lock. The comforting and familiar silence of his apartment greeted him as he inhaled the light lilac scent of his home. Checking that none of the security measures had been violated, he dropped his bag into the corner and removed his Ministry robe.

9 years after the Great War and not a whole lot had changed for him. "It's not exactly what I pictured I would be doing, but it's better than I deserve", he thought with a grimace as he examined his refrigerator for anything remotely appetizing. Grabbing a soda and a quick sandwich, he made his way to his study with a copy of the Daily Prophet.

The silence of the apartment was periodically interrupted by the sound of his household appliances that needed various remedies. Once a fastidious house-maker, Draco could no longer bring himself to bother with these various annoyances. He could hardly remember the last time he had a visitor. Even his landlord had stopped dropping by as Draco had ensured that his rent was paid early. And he cherished this isolation.

Working in the 3rd floor basement of the Ministry for nearly a decade now had led to some drastic lifestyle changes. Draco had abandoned his designer fitted robes for the black ones that the Ministry had recommended. He even chose to wear them at non-Ministry events. They were oddly reminiscent of his Hogwarts robes, minus his house crest.

His pale complexion had taken on a yellowish hue over the years. Working underground and keeping hours that never let him see sunlight had made him almost wary of daytime. His once flawless health and hygiene has taken a backstage.

Although, it was not exactly ideal, Draco was content. His position as finance auditor paid the bills with plenty left to spare. At the same time, it kept the law enforcement officials off his back, keeping him almost in isolation, which oddly enough was extremely satisfying.

Settling into his study, he opened the Prophet. As usual, Potter's face greeted him fiercely from the front page next to a band of Neo Death-Eaters. Save for the occasional mandatory Ministry event, the last time Draco had been near Potter had been at Hogwarts. Draco occasionally thought back to his early years, but resisted before the memories got too deep.

As he flipped through the Prophet, Draco thought how different his life might have been had Potter accepted his hand at Madam Malkin's several years ago. This was a path he frequently trod on despite his better judgment. Would he have been living such a proletarian lifestyle or would he have been hob-knobbing with the likes of Shaklebolt? Would he have chosen to live closing to other magical population rather than the Muggle area he had chosen to inhabit now? Draco tried to picture himself living amongst the other wizards, attending social events and having a companion to live with. But it had been too long since he had last spent longer than a couple of minutes in the presence of another human being and the thought of reaching out now just seemed absurd.

It was then he noticed the date on the top of the page – June 5th. With a slight start, he remembered that it was his birthday. Despite himself, he could not help checking his owl post. There were only two letters in there – a Ministry greeting and a pre-dated birthday card from Snape – the same that he had been receiving ever since he graduated from Hogwarts. Draco opened the Ministry card first. The first thing he noticed was that there were only 3 signatures on it. He recalled Potter's previous birthday card with some displeasure. It had had to be magically enhanced to accommodate the greetings. He traced his fingers over the automated signature of the Minister of Magic and his Head of Department. However next to the picture of a happy face, was a new signature. Even through the loopy swirl, he could make out the letters of the last name – Potter.

Almost unconsciously, Draco's face burst into a smile. He lightly touched the signature and a bit of ink rubbed off on his finger - Potter had signed it himself. With this realization, Draco's grin stretched from ear to ear. It had been such a long time since he had smiled like that that he could feel the muscles in his jaw aching a bit. He stared in wonder at the inscription that politely wished him all the best for the coming year and felt an understated happiness spread over him.

Not once in the last 9 years had Draco second-guessed his decision for isolation. Being cut-off from both wizarding and Muggle population had meant that he had no social bonds and therefore no regrets. But looking at the card before him, he wondered if he was missing out. If a simple greeting card had such a profound effect on him, he could only ponder the result of an increased social interaction.

He sat for a while and thought about it. This could be the start of something different. As a child, Draco was very comfortable around people and much preferred it to being alone. The eleven year old Draco would have turned up his nose at this Draco. There were several things he would not approve off. Draco rose in front of the full length mirror in his study. As much as possible, he tried to avoid looking at himself on an everyday basis, but what he saw back surprised even himself. He had gained a lot of weight over the years. He cheeks were puffy and his hair was matted and greasy. His robe, although clean, had seen better days. His fingernails, once buffed and polished, were now chipped and yellowed.

Draco felt tears rise in his eyes. Through the mirror, he looked at the reflection of his study. Even his material possessions seemed to have fallen into despair. Everything about this hovel seemed to further aggravate his nausea for himself.

"This is got to end," he said out loud. "I need to fix this." The more he thought about it, the more he realized that it had been a long time since he had felt such passion for anything. Eyes shining, he grabbed a piece of parchment and began putting his words on paper.

The first thing that came to his mind was removing that horrible paunch he had developed over the years. The next thing he wanted to try and fix was his career. He also thought about his finances. He looked around for more inspiration and saw the birthday cards on the table and once again that happy feeling blossomed in his chest. Yes, he definitely wanted more of that. He also remembered a couple of other things that he felt needed more attention. Almost an hour later, he was done. He sat back and looked at it with some degree of pride. Enlargening it, he hung it on the wall of his study and surveyed it once more.

Physical Environment

Finances

Career

Wellbeing

Relationships

Personal Development

Fun and creativity

Seeing these goals written out like this, Draco felt more determined than he had in a long time. But the sheer size of what he was undertaking scared him and for the first time, Draco wished his god-father were here to guide him. He remembered the birthday card and opened it with deep remorse. Once again, the card wished him good health and good luck and happiness which were all Severus ever wanted for his god-son. Draco sat down and let his mind take over the moment as a wave of unprecedented sadness washed over him.

It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to mourn over anyone. He thanked himself for still having the ability to do so. It had felt really cleansing. He made up his mind to visit Severus' grave that week.

Draco wondered about Muggle gyms. He had often seen them advertised, but had never seen one. Already faced with a hurdle, Draco furrowed his brow. Then almost with a leap of energy, he hurtled down to his landlord's apartment.

Even as he knocked on his landlord's door, he felt a wave of apprehension. This was someone that Draco had made a successful effort to avoid over the past 9 years. How can so many years of calculated movements match up a moment of whim? But before he could change his mind, Octavio opened the door.

Not surprisingly, Octavio did not recognize him. The last time he had seen him, Draco was still in his teens. Draco stretched out a tentative hand. " Hi," he said, somewhat haltingly. "Malfoy, from apartment 3-B? Do you have a quick second? I just wanted to ask you a few questions."

Almost as he said it, he felt himself wince. He completely lacked any social skills. He sounded like he wanted to interrogate the poor man. But Octavio didn't seem to mind. His face cracked into a polite smile and he took a step forward to shake Draco's hand.

"Off course, Mr. Malfoy. Didn't think I would forget my most punctual and least demanding boarder. What can I do for you today?"

Draco's heart was still beating faster than usual. He could hear the sounds of a television in the background and his willed his himself to breathe normally.

" I was just wondering, do you, umm, could you… eh".. Draco's voice completely clammed up. Fortunately, Octavio was distracted by whatever was on the television.

" Hey Malfoy, do you want to talk over the game? I got a couple of beers with your name on it…" Octavio half-yelled over the noise.

Draco seemed almost surprised by the invitation. He gingerly stepped into his landlord's apartment, unconsciously breathing in the scent of nachos and beer. Octavio was already on the couch yelling at the television.

"You a football fan? "

"I don't really watch a whole lot of sports actually."

"Oh yeah? Well, we need to change that, don't we? The guys in the building get together for a game of touch football every Sunday if you want in. Losing side buys pizza."

Draco could only nod dumbly. Seeing his hesitation, Octavio added, "Don't you worry, most of the guys have 20 more years on them, a little exercise and they are out of breath. We could really use someone like you on our side."

Draco grinned. This could be one of his personal development areas. Besides, how much harder could it be than quidditch? He agreed to come out that Sunday and joined Octavio on the couch.

Almost 3 hours later, Draco made his way back to his own apartment, still slightly buzzed. The slightly happy feeling was only elevated by the fact that he had actually spent 3 hours in the company of a fellow human being. Octavio was not talkative by nature, and they had spent most of the evening watching the game only interrupted by the occasional question by Draco about the game.

Octavio had told him about a men's fitness center and another co-ed fitness center nearby. Draco made up his mind to visit them tomorrow. He looked up at the time. To his surprise, it was nearly 1 am. The last time, he stayed up this late, it was to finish a budget. As he closed his eyes, his last thoughts were "I can't believe Potter signed my card."

To be continued….

A/N:
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