After the war it was hard for Draco to live his life normally. He only had his mother; his father was dead and he had lost his old school friends either to the so-called 'dark side' or to death.

He didn't know how he should feel about it. He said he was fine even though he really wasn't. Draco simply felt empty. He had nothing to live for. The only thing that stopped him from ending his life was his mother. He couldn't just leave her alone.

He wasn't able to get out of the Malfoy Manor for two months. His chaotic mind stopped him.

He thought about nearly everything in that time. His father, Death Eaters, Voldemort, blood, friends, the Golden Trio. But mostly he thought about what he had done at the end of the war.

He lifted his arm and pulled his sleeve up. He hated it. It was a mark that nobody could ever free him from. He knew he should learn to live with it but he refused to. With a disgusted look he pushed his sleeve back down.

The woman opened the boy's door just a crack as he laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling. His blonde hair was messy and he had worn that t-shirt for the last four days straight. He looked so pale, almost like a porcelein doll. He did not speak with her about his problems. But the witch knew what dragged him down like this; his father's death wasn't easy for her either. She nearly cried for a week but only when she thought Draco was not around.

The once smiling face was now emotionless. It broke her heart to see her little dragon like this.

Narcissa Malfoy was worried about her only son. She coulnd't stand seeing him so down and unhappy. So she decided to do something she would never have thought she would do... she got out some parchment and began to write a letter.

Harry stood there, his boxershorts the only thing covering his slim body as he made himself and his girlfriend breakfast.

Just as he was about to lift the tray a sudden noise caught his attention. A black falcon waited impatiently outside the window. He didn't know who the bird belonged to, so he opened the window slowly and removed the letter from the bird's leg.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I do not want you to forgive me nor my family for what we have done, but you are the only person that can help me.

Draco hasn't left his room for more than two months now and I am terribly worried. You don't have to help me and I know that you probably won't but I have nobody I can talk to. I am afraid that I am going mad, and Draco, too.

I don't know why I am telling you all this but I am desparate. I don't know what to do but maybe you have an idea.

It took me a lot courage to admit this and write to you Mr. Potter.

Sincerely yours,

N.M.

Harry was stunned and nearly let out a laugh. Why on earth was Narcissa Malfoy writing to him? Why was Malfoy acting like this? What happend to the sneering git and his arrogant mother? What should he do to help Malfoy out of his hole? Why did she think he would care?

He pushed the thoughts and the letter away and walked over to his bedroom which contained a sleeping girl with flaming red hair. Harry smiled at her and placed the tray on the bedside table.

"Love, I made breakfast," he said and placed a kiss on her cheek.

Ginny nodded in her sleep and snuggled against Harry's arm. Well, I guess breakfast can wait.