Chapter 1
Draco stared at his hands. Although they were clean to anyone who passed by, all he could see was the blood on his hands. He had just been sentenced to three years probation. He was thankful to not be thrown into Azkaban, but he felt he didn't deserve to be able to obtain freedom either. He waited in the lobby of the Magical Law Enforcement offices as his sponsor finalized his paperwork.
He didn't look up until he found a familiar shade of red hair next to him. However, the face was unknown to him.
"Bill Weasley." He stuck his hand out to Draco.
Draco stared at it before looking back down at his own. "You shouldn't shake my hand, sir. It's my fault your brother is dead."
Bill frowned slightly. "Is it now?"
Draco balled his hands into fists in his lap. He was shaking with guilt. "Yes, sir."
"Well, that's not how she sees it."
Draco looked at him before turning to see Molly Weasley approaching. In her arms was a stack of papers and a medium sized rectangular box. "Hello, Draco."
He wanted to crawl into a hole at her warm smile. He didn't deserve it. He was to blame. He should be buried in the grave instead of her son.
She continued to smile at him. "For the next three years, it looks like I'm your sponsor."
He looked back down at his hands. "Why?"
Seemingly without further explanation, she knew of the bubbling guilt inside his soul. "You did what you had to, Draco. Not even I can fault you for that."
"I don't deserve it."
"And that's exactly why I testified for your probation." She moved to the other side of him, cautiously laying a hand on his knee as he shook with his roiling emotions. "You deserve a second chance, my dear."
He was so vulnerable. He tried so desperately to keep himself together, but his emotions had won. Tears began to drip onto his hands as he fisted his pants. Bill gave him a few pats on the back.
He didn't deserve to be comforted, especially by the family he had destroyed.
"Come on, son. Let's get you out of here." Molly said softly as she took notice of the staring passerby.
He let them steer him to the floo network located just outside. He kept his head down, slowly gathering his broken pieces together. He had found himself looking up when Molly had shouted for the Burrow. He did not expect to be brought back to their home.
The house was empty, she told him, and that it would be just the three of them for a few hours. She showed him an empty room, saying it was once Charlie's room.
When his eyes widened at her use of past tense, she looked at him sadly. "He trains and studies dragons in Romania. He doesn't need this room anymore."
He let out a small breath of relief, glad he had only killed one Weasley.
He settled into Charlie's room as best he could, but he found himself sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. He felt he didn't deserve a bed or a desk or anything. All he had on him was his wand, his vault key for Gringotts, and a picture of himself, Blaise, and Theo on the Quidditch Pitch at Hogwarts. He smiled at the picture. It was of them second year, back when things weren't so complicated.
He jumped at the sudden knock at his door. Molly poked her head in the door. "Is it alright if I come in?"
He nodded. "It is your house."
"But this is your space, Draco. If anywhere in the world, you are safe in this room. No one in this house will attack you here." She closed the door behind her, but he quickly noticed the very same box she had carried into the Ministry with her. "I had thought about giving this to you at the Ministry, but the time didn't feel right." She held the box out to him, and after a moment he took it.
Cautiously, he opened it and found a knitted sweater in silver and green. On the chest was a silver D.
"I want to give you a good last year of childhood, Draco. Even though you're of age, it has been agreed upon to allow the last year of Hogwarts students to repeat the year."
He nodded dumbly. He understood why the last year would be repeated; the year hardly had any sort of educating going on. He did not understand the gift, though.
Molly smiled at him gently. "Oh Draco, while I have lost a son, I hope to gain one as well. I was told about your childhood. I want to show you what love looks like."
He found himself clutching the sweater tightly. The memories and emotions building up rapidly.
"Draco, its okay to cry."
At her words he lost all face and let down his walls. He wailed at everything, the loss of his parents, the kindness he was being shown, the fear that still haunts him, and the guilt that consumes him.
Molly didn't hesitate to hold him. She soothed him as he cried it out. She chuckled when finally calmed down and remarked at how appalled his parents would be to see him as he was. He decided to drop the pureblood mask, even if it would take time. Slowly he would become himself more publicly, but right now, Molly Weasley would have to be his place to start.
After all his emotions were spent, he finally gave her what she had been hoping to achieve all day, a smile.
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."
She returned his smile. "It's no problem, Draco."
Molly had somehow managed to coax him out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where she began to start preparing dinner. He watched the way her hands moved expertly about the kitchen before finding himself gazing at his own. His hands were littered in tiny scars. Some were his own fault and some were not, but he could remember how he got each of them. More than he'd like to admit, a number of them were from practicing potions with Snape. However, he knew the unseen ones, the ones his shirt covered, were far less innocent.
As a child he was kind hearted and loved life itself, Nacrissa had encouraged this side of her son, and would often enjoy exploring and playing on the ground. He was being observed by his father that afternoon and happened to find an injured baby bird. Lucius didn't care for his son's softer side. He was punished harshly for wanting his father to heal the weak creature. His father whipped Draco until he had angry red gashes all over his back.
His trip down unpleasant memory lane was interrupted by the front door opening. He was greeted by Bill with a curt nod as he held the door open for Ginny and Ron. Draco immediately looked down at his hands. Ginny stared at the blond with mixed emotions. On one hand she was angry and on the other she felt sorry for him.
Ron, as per usual Ron fashion, immediately jumped into a rage. He slammed his fist on the table next to Draco. "What in the hell do you think you're doing here?!"
Molly wasted no time in rounding into her son. "Not one more word, Ronald."
He glared at his mother. "Blimey, mum. He's a bloody Death Eater."
Draco grasped at his forearm tightly. "I didn't ask for it…" His words were barely audible. Ginny had almost missed them, but Ron ignored them completely.
"Even if he wasn't the one who let all of those bastards into Hogwarts, he still bullied Hermione ruthlessly. He's awful."
The door opened once more to reveal Harry and Hermione. Harry looked uncomfortable at the situation and Hermione looked down at her feet the whole time. Draco noticed her tear-stained cheeks.
Catching onto Hermione's state Ginny proclaimed loudly that the two were going upstairs and were not to be bothered. Hermione followed Ginny like a zombie. She looked so numb and in pain. Draco almost asked why but knew it would only make his situation worse.
Bill sat down next to Draco and gave him a light pat on the back. "How about we go on a walk after dinner?" He turned to Ron and Harry. "You two, as well."
Molly nodded at her son, proud that he was at least trying to be reasonable. Bill was grown with his child on the way; life was worth living happily, not in constant hate. He didn't see the point in letting it consume him.
Draco nodded slowly. He was cautious to speak. He didn't feel like fighting anymore. He stood slowly before walking over to Molly. Leaning close to her so the others won't hear him, he frowned. "I don't feel much like eating anymore. I apologize."
She grasped his shoulders as his head sunk. "That's fine, dear. Bill will come get you after dinner." She knew this would be hard for all of them.
Bill nodded, reading his mother's lips. Draco walked off towards his, Charlie's, room. He shuffled slowly, letting his mind return to his Dark Mark. It no longer moved, it was dead, he mused, but it was still strikingly bold on his pale skin. Covering the mark with his hand, he leaned against the side of the bed, letting his rear hit the floor with a soft thud. He didn't deserve this room, or Molly Weasley's hospitality. However, he did deserve Ron's tongue-lashing. He killed his brother. He deserved to be in that grave instead.
Hermione sat down on the bed next to Ginny's. She knew that Malfoy was going to be at the house and while her childhood tormentor deserved a piece of her mind, she didn't have the energy. Her mind was so muddled and confused. She was beginning to mourn the loss of her parents. She was truly coming to terms with the irreversible severity that was the reality of her actions. A small part of her, at the end of the war, hoped that there would be a counter spell or charm or potion, something. She knew after a few weeks that was a foolish thought. She had poured through every journal Snape had ever written, with the permission of Professor McGonagall. She had lost her relationship with her parents forever. While she was grateful they were alive, she knew she was practically an orphan now. She had no family anymore.
Another part of her was very confused. She and Harry and Ron were on the run for a year. She was still angry at Ron for two reasons; the first being his blatant abandonment during their hunt and the kiss.
The kiss they had shared in the heat of battle was only confirmation of what she knew deep in her heart. However, Ron felt differently.
He pleaded with her, begged her to be his, but her feelings had fallen to another. She had known this for a long time, fourth year actually, that she cared deeply for him. In an effort to be a good friend however, she pushed her growing feelings aside for her best friend. She knew deep down that they belonged together, but she couldn't help but feel jealous.
Yet her feelings always seemed to drift back to Harry.
She knew it was foolish and would only end horribly if she pursued Harry. She would certainly lose her friendship with Ron, and most likely Ginny as well, but worst of all she would be making Harry choose between his friends. She couldn't do that to him.
There was a light knock on the door and Harry popped her head in the crack of the doorway. "Dinner's ready."
Ginny hopped up and started walking out the door when Harry whispered for her to go ahead. He entered the room and sat next to Hermione. He took her hand in both of his.
"Are you okay?"
She looked at him with tears beginning to well in her eyes. "I'm confused. I feel so alone, even when I'm with all of you. I lost my family. I lost my parents." She gripped his hand tightly. "I just don't know what to do, Harry. I feel like I made a mistake."
"You protected them, 'Mione." He smiled at her gently. "Besides, you have me."
She gave him a small smile in return. Their year spent hunting the pieces of Voldemort's soul had brought them closer. They relied on each other more than ever before. They had spent long nights in the Astronomy Tower after the final battle. They talked deeply about the lasting damage of the war.
"At least I have the satisfaction that they're alive."
He nodded and pulled her to her feet. "Let's get dinner. We can talk later." She followed him out, but only let go of his hand just before entering the dining room. No need to let everyone in on her feelings for Harry.