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Disclaimer - unfortunately I am just a pauper peddling JKs left overs. I own nothing.

Warning - M for later chapters, language and sexual scenes.

*update*

I suppose this story could be considered as quite dark - there's reference to self harm and alcoholism. I'm sure more issues will crop up as I continue to write but always remember the goal of this story is romance and comfort so it won't always be dark and angsty.

Chapter one - the day I died

When people talk about death they talk about three things. The first thing they talk about is the end. A beautiful sweet silence created by the life leaving your body. Endless pools of nothing in your still gaze. The life force in you just disappearing and becoming nothing, isn't it sad to think that's what everything you've done with your life comes to? Just a cold still corpse.

The second thing they talk about is the "what if". They speculate whether all the happy moments you endured flashed before your eyes, whether you saw a bright light or whether you were dressed in all white to great Merlin at his pearly gates. They never talk about the other side though do they? Where do all the bad people go? Do we burn? Do we spend the rest of eternity frolicking with Satan and Salazar on burning coal whilst drinking fire whisky? Or do we simply endure the burning forever.

The last thing they talk about is "if you're watching". People seem to take comfort in the thought that your soul may not be resting in a better place. They endure the thought that your ever lasting dead gaze is watching over them and watching all their mistakes and triumphs as though you could be some kind of guardian angel. Funny that isn't it? You, you yourself right there, thinking about all the sins you've committed, all the things you can never take back. Yes that you as someone's Guardian angel, steering them away from trouble when the only thing you seem to emit is complete and utter chaos.

The fourth thing though, the thing no body ever wants to talk about is when you die inside but your body keeps on going. When your soul can not possibly take anymore of the chaos you have created and it just switches off, and that type of death is self destructive. That type of death takes everyone you love and isolates you so that when your actual final death comes you'll be all alone.

Draco Malfoy shook his head as if to rid himself of this morbid thought process. He was in his usual corner of his usual pub. A small and usually private place with an overly promiscuous waitress and a manager that didn't ask questions. Most importantly it stocked Muggle alcohol. Draco had learned that once you drink the Scottish coast dry of firewhisky you build up an immunity to the stuff. Muggle liquor - preferably vodka - was his new poison of choice.

It had been four long years since the war ended. Four years since he had seen that snake like bastard in his home, torturing his mother, cursing his father. It had been six years though since he had had the mark burned into his flesh.

He glanced down as he slowly lifted his sleeve up, the mark was unrecognisable now, just a faded grey blob that no longer resembled a snake and a skull, it just seemed to be a badly drawn oval. But if you knew Draco Malfoy - and everyone did - you knew what that mark once was, you knew what that mark used to be. He remembered the first time after the war someone had saw it and hissed "death eater" at him. "scum" and "evil fucking cunt" were a few of the curses people seemed to favour. But they were right, they had hit the nail on the head. He was scum, he was a death eater he was evil. It was after the first time he heard the taunting that he had taken a knife to his arm.

Now he traced over the scars, old and new, some silver some red, that criss-crossed over the faded grey of his dark mark.

Pain was his saviour. He had to cut, he had to feel the pain. Pain was the only thing left to feel to remind him that he was still human.

He was pulled out of his pity party however when I obnoxiously loud and unnecessarily optimistic and happy group of teenagers entered the pub. Night officially ruined he drained his vodka, left a few galleons on his table and made his way to the door.

"I'm just saying it wasn't meant to - oof!"

He had watched her enter through the door as he was about to exit, he had drunk in her appearance. Tanned skin that smelt like roses, hair only slightly less frizzy than when they had been at school, big chocolate brown eyes and pretty pink lips. He had watched as she had stepped through the door and turned to say something to the woman behind her, he had watched as she carried on waking, still not looking up and collided straight into him and he was unsure why he hadn't done anything to stop it.

"Oh goodness I'm so sorry" she exclaimed as she looked up at him. A look of surprise crossed her face.

"Oh gods, Malfoy" she took a step back as she took in his appearance. "It's been..." she furrowed her bow "has it really been four years?"

He let out a mirthless chuckle and painted on a smile that she noticed didn't quite reach his eyes. "Three and a half if you count my trial granger"

She swallowed and nodded uneasily.

"Right your trial"

Before she could say anything else a blur of red barrelled into the pub and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her to bar to order drinks.

Draco sighed as he left the bar he let his thoughts wander back to the worst day of his life.

*august 8th 1999*

"I, Minister Shacklebot, here by sentence Lucius Malfoy - accused of Rape, murder, torture, use of all three unforgivables, spreading hateful propaganda and last but most certainly not least being a death eater - to a total of 36 years in Azkaban Prison without the opportunity of bail or early Parol"

Silence fell across the wizengamot court room only broken by the anguished cries of Narcissa Malfoy. Draco internally cringed from his seat in the accused dock as his monthers blood curdling cries assaulted his ears. He couldn't do this.

Before he had a chance to process what was going on he saw a small, bushy haired and wide eyed girl make her way across the court room, hand in hand with Harry Potter as they both took the witness stand.

"You have something to say miss granger, Me Potter?"

"I would like to testify on behalf of Lucious Malfoy"

Her voice was quiet but clear and as soon as she finished her sentence whispers broke out around the courtroom. Whispers of "traitor", "must be imperioused" and "death eaters whore" could be heard from every direction.

"Sonorous" Harry Potter called as he held his wand to his throat and he took the piece of parchment from Hermiones hand as he looked down at her with a quick but soft smile. "Lest we forget the sacrifices Hermione Granger has had to make for us all to survive this war" he said as he glared at the courtroom. "How date any of you question her judgement. How dare any of you think she would be anything but fair. Is this the world we taught for? Is this the world our friends and families died for?" Half of the courtroom looked properly reprimanded, some looked shocked and select few still had angry expressions but held their tongue in the presence of the chosen one.

"Continue" Kingsley gestured towards Harry and with a quick nod he began to read Hermiones words off the parchment.

Draco couldn't listen, he didn't let the words penetrate his ears. He could not afford to let himself have hope. He could not afford to watch his mother dig her fingers into this hope just to watch it be pulled viciously from her grasp once again. At the end of the speech Potter took Hermiones hand and led her back to the bench where they were both encased in hugs from several red headed weasleys.

"After taking into account Miss Grangers Evidence, I have decided to lessen the sentence of Lucious Malfoy to 10 years in Azkaban. The other 26 will be served under house arrest, with no wand."

He watched as his mother battled with her emotions as his father was led from the courtroom. The usually immaculate man dressed in a striped prison jump suit with shackled hands and feet.

"I now call Draco Malfoy to the stand"

Draco swallowed as the shackles from his own hands and feet vanished and he made his way slowly over to the seat his father had previously inhabited.

"Draco Malfoy, you are charged with the use of all three unforgivables, how do you plead?"

"Not Guilty"

"Draco Malfoy you are charged with the accusation of rape, murder, torture and enslavement of muggles, wizards and witches. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty"

"Draco Malfoy you are accused of being a Death Eater. How do you plead"

"Guilty" he was shocked at how steady his voice was when inside he felt broken.

The trial went on for what felt like hours. He couldn't look away from the witness box as countless faces recounted the things he had put them through, the things they had witnessed him do. Some he remembered, some he didn't. The Ines he didn't made it worse. He resigned himself to a fate of azkaban and decided that he deserved it. He wasn't worthy of being in the same room as these people, people that had loved and lost. People that had taught to save the world from people like him. He stared his eyes unmoving and unblinking, burning every face and every word he heard into his memory. He vowed to never forget what he had put these people through, vowed to never forget what he was.

Eventually Harry Potter again took the stand.

"I have known Draco since we were first years." Harry began as he readjusted his glasses and ran his eyes over Dracos form. He didn't like what he could see in potters eyes, he could see pity. He didn't deserve pity, he deserved haterid. "He was always a stuck up child, prone to bullying and looking down on others. Often he would make derogatory comments about Hermiones Blood status. But Draco Malfoy is not a death eater. The mark on his arm does not define him. Show me one person in this court room that wouldn't willingly take that mark on their arm to save their mother from a fate worse than death? Tell me how many of you here have watched your mother tortured at the hands of the dark lord?" Predictably no one raised their hands. "How many of you have had the dark lord living in your home?" Again no one. "Draco and his mother played a crucial part in the final battle, I would never of destroyed the diadem horcrux if it wasn't for him. I would of never destroyed the dark lord himself if it wasn't for him and his mother. Yes Draco Malfoy is a death eater, yes he has wronged many of you. But does he deserve a death sentence for doing what he had to do to survive? For his mother to survive?"

With that Harry adjusted his glasses again before retaking his seat next to Hermione.

A million thoughts swam round dracos head until he heard the minister clear his throat.

"The wizengamot finds Draco Malfoy - not guilty" a collective gasp could be heard from the courtroom. "However your deeds can not go unpunished. Half of the Malfoy vaults will be emptied, the money to be used to rebuild the wizarding community and compensate the victims of war. You will be stripped of your wand for fthe foreseeable future and You will not be allowed to live at your estate in Wiltshire. you will receive a letter in due course to inform you of the terms and conditions of these rules."

*present day*

He didn't realise he was crying until he looked into the stainless steel door to his fridge. Why did Potter have to speak? He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve life. Reaching for the blade in his kitchen draw and a bottle of muggle alchohol he stumbled to his room, not noticing the letter on his kitchen table.

Another AN - okay I know not much happened in this chapter, it's going to be a slow burn dramione. And I promise there will be more substance and action in the next chapter when we officially meet Blaise Zabini and Ginny Weasley. Who do we think the letter is from? What do we think it's about? Please R and R x