chapter one

The cobbled road of Diagon Alley was as busy and full of life as was to be expected in the recent years post war.

Draco felt unusual reintegrating with this society of wizards and witches. He avoided the glares of anyone that noticed him walking passed, trying to convince himself that they were staring at his sickly demeanor and not offended by his mere presence.

Draco was finally released from his one year of time in Azkaban prison for his particular involvement with the Dark Lord. Potter provided testimony on behalf of him, and he might have skirted by with just probation had he not also been forced to torture muggles along side the other Death Eaters. His father was taken to Azkaban per his sentence to receive the Dementors kiss for his involvement as one of Voldemorts closest followers and remain locked away as an empty being in a cell. His mother, Narcissa, was to remain on house arrest for five years following the war, since she was a key element in saving Harry Potter's life. Draco knew he was extremely lucky not to have received a harsher sentencing. He would need to contend against everyone's opinions of him and what he did during the war.

Draco was humbled to his very core after all the experiences between 6th year at Hogwarts til now, and he knew he was a warped and distorted person, entirely different from the child he once was. He couldn't pretend that he was newly reformed, a tribute to change in the face of impenetrable darkness... but he could honestly say that he was more open minded, and very willing to hold onto the light like his life depended on it. Before now, he was entirely too afraid and cowardly to fight against what he knew was wrong. Now he was ready.

Draco entered Gringotts bank immediately upon his release. Though he was a bit more frail than usual, and starved of any sunlight or fresh air as well as a good meal and shower, he wanted to ensure his assets were all in order and available to him. The plans of his future were all that kept him going during his imprisonment. He wanted to be sure he had access to the stability he craved, forged by the galleons in his vaults.

"I would like to be taken to the Malfoy family vault, as well as my own personal vault," he stated, as confidently as he could through his parched throat and mouth to the goblin at the end of the long entry room of the bank. The goblin glanced up and grimaced ever so slightly before fixing a look of indifference across his features once more.

"Young Master Malfoy... of course. Follow me," he replied, leaving his seat and ambling along a hallway and leading Draco down to the rail system underground. They quickly arrived to the family vault first, and after the goblin glided his finger along the length of the vault door releasing several locks and wards, Draco was able to step inside.

The vault itself might have been the size of a small house, and was lined with an innumerable amount of gems and priceless trinkets. Ancient relics, and newer baubles and bits, all extremely valuable and rare. Stacks of galleons lined the walls, and random piles flowed throughout the vault. The glitter of gold all around him was calming in the torch light.

The foundation for his future was here in this vault. With his father essentially lifeless, all of his accounts and assets were automatically transferred to Draco as new head of house at Malfoy Manor. He nodded, before turning on his heel and asking to be taken to his personal vault. Once the same wards and locks were released from his vault, he went in. This room was probably half the size of the family vault, but still fairly large and filled with galleons, sickles, knuts, and treasures gifted to him by family, friends or pureblooded politicians and aristocrats. He pulled a satchel from his cloak and filled it with several large handfuls of galleons.

"Thank you. I am ready to leave now."

With a nod, the goblin locked the vault back up and they made their way onto the rail cart to vacate the depths of the banks' underground maze.

Draco quickly apparated home to the Manor, directly into his old bedroom. He looked around slowly. It was exactly as he left it before his sentence, and the air was slightly stale. He set down his satchel of coins on the bed, and wandered over to his bookcase. He missed the feel of books in his hands. The texture of the worn binding, the scent of the parchment, the sounds of the pages being flicked through and his fingers gliding gently across them as he would read. He looked toward his desk and saw the framed photo of himself and his parents. He picked up the frame and watched his father look down at him with a smirk and back up to the camera, smugly placing a hand on Dracos left shoulder. Narcissa laced her arms around Dracos' and faced the camera with regal possessiveness. Draco was smiling. The haunts of the night had not yet touched his soul when this photo was taken.

There was a light tapping at his bedroom door. He glanced towards the sound, where his mother was pushing it open, and walking over to him.

"My Draco, my dragon. How I have missed you, my son," she whispered, embracing him tightly.

"Mother, I have missed you as well. I hope I find you in good health," he replied gently.

"Much better than you, it would seem."

She pursed her lips, and surveyed his sickly looking body in anger, sadness and aggravation. She shook her head.

"You are withering away right before my eyes. Shower, and I will have Fable bring up a tray of food and dreamless sleep. You need rest. We will have time tomorrow to catch up on each other." She kissed his cheek lightly, and caressed his hair with her hand before walking out and shutting his door behind her quietly.

Draco let out a ragged breath, and after a long moment of staring absently at the closed door, he headed to the bathroom for a much needed shower.

end chapter one