Hi! So I've had this plot bunny in my head for a few days since I had a dream of the very last scene in this one-shot. It was driving me crazy so I decided to write a little one shot and I hope you guys enjoy. I may decide to write a full length story but depending on how it's received. Please read and let me know what you all think! Thanks :)

A young man sat near the window that showcased a spectacular view of the molten red sun as it descended upon the horizon. He gazed at the night's beautiful sunset as the colors of the sun scattered throughout the skies while he pondered the many mysteries of life. The various colored rays of the descending sun bounced off the young man's platinum colored hair making it glint through the room as it slowly succumbed to the darkness of the night.

Draco Malfoy had lived a pampered life during his lifespan of thirty years. He was born into one of the most prominent Wizarding families in Britain, and would be the future head of the Malfoy charter of the Sacred Twenty Eight. His parents never failed to give him what he wanted and yet there he sat, searching for something; a certain happiness that even he could not understand yet the sins of his past had kept him lying awake at night waiting for an absolution which he knew would never come.

Draco could not pinpoint exactly when his depression began. He supposed the defeat of Harry Potter nearly thirteen years ago could have triggered his unhappiness, as the Dark Lord remained the most powerful being on earth. His parents hired only the best Mind Healers to help their beloved son in discovering the reasons behind his unhappiness. On most days he was perfectly content, fulfilling his duties as a faithful servant to the Dark Lord, laughing and having fun with his best friends, and remained the picture perfect Malfoy heir. Yet some days he was wracked with guilt as he reflected back to his actions following the war but he tried to console himself thinking that his victims were better off the way they were as opposed to had they been in the mercy of someone like Bellatrix or Voldemort himself.

However, on certain nights when the depths of his mind walked hand in hand with a sane man's oldest enemy of insomnia, he would lie awake for hours trying to conjure the memories upon which his body remembered, yet his mind did not. His heart would clench as an unexplainable grief consumed him and he would fall into fits of anger and depression for days afterward. During these days, his anger would transform him into someone unrecognizable to his family and even to himself, as he could not understand why he was so unhappy.

The Mind Healers summed it up to bipolar disorder triggered by posttraumatic stress disorder as a result of the Second Wizarding War nearly thirteen years ago since his symptoms clearly painted him as a man suffering from such conditions.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were relieved to find an explanation to their cherished son's mental state and tried their best to keep him happy and encouraged his activities and hobbies to hopefully distract him during his "moods."

However, Draco was not satisfied by this explanation. Deep in his heart he knew there was an underlying reason in addition to the horrors of the war, yet he could not figure it out. Over the past thirteen years, he could recall vividly waking up from a nightmare, shivering in cold sweat as he tried to remember what his dreams were trying to tell him. This happened to him only twice yet he knew there was something his psych was trying to remember. Maybe it was an event during the war that was insignificant, yet it seemed to affect him in his sleep. Yet all he could recall from these two nights were the soft whispered words of a woman whose voice was so clear in his dream as if she was right next to his ear, yet as he woke, her whispers grew faint until the only sounds were of his fast beating heart.

Upon waking from the second dream, Draco thought he was finally going insane as he felt her warmth beside him as he awoke. He could sometimes still feel the soft tickling of the woman's thick, curly brown hair on his cold cheek, yet as he regained consciousness, the woman's warmth was replaced by the achingly emptiness of his soul and the cold wet trails on his face.

The last time he had this dream was on the eve of his twenty-seventh birthday. The first time it happened also fell on the eve of a birthday, his twenty-first. These birthdays were happy ones so he could not think of any reason why he would be haunted by these dreams on these occasions. Draco sat by the window in the darkness trying to once again recall the words that haunted him every day.

Just then, the door to Draco's childhood bedroom clicked and swung open, revealing his slightly deranged aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. Throughout the years, Bellatrix had become even more drunk with power as the Dark Lord's right hand man, or woman in this case. Bellatrix proved to be the only one whom Voldemort could trust, causing Bellatrix to become even more unbearable in his presence.

Disappointed in finding her nephew staring blankly out the window yet again, as he was prone to do so lately, she huffed in irritation and walked over to Draco until she was right behind him. Draco had not moved nor turned to see who his unwelcome visitor was, despite her sudden entrance, infuriating Bellatrix even more so.

"Draco," Bellatrix said through her teeth as she tried to control her annoyance at her morose nephew but all that met her was silence.

"Draco," she repeated forcefully until Draco finally turned around to greet his aunt.

"Yes, Aunt Bella," he finally said as he acknowledged Bellatrix.

Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix moved over to sit next to her nephew in front of the window. She looked out the window and sat with Draco for a few moments until she finally broke the silence.

"Draco darling, our Lord requests your presence before the celebrations for tonight. As you know, it is the anniversary of our victory against the Order. He wants you stationed at the Phoenix Memorial-"

"Fine," said Draco curtly, cutting her off mid-sentence. Draco stood up abruptly and walked past his aunt as he left the room towards the drawing room.

Bellatrix stared after her nephew as he left, her cold heart twisting in concern. As long as Draco continued to fulfill his duties, Bellatrix would not intervene.

xx

Meanwhile in the depths of Muggle Britain, in a small town near the coastline called Wild Church Bottom, slick sheets of rain came pouring down throughout the night. A lonely petrol station was open serving its last customers for the day. Inside the tiny shop, the shop assistant was helping his last customer at the register, while trying to fix the flickering overhead lights. He instinctively reached for his side pocket as the lights flickered again, but he stopped himself, as he knew there was nothing in his pocket that could help him.

Shrugging to himself, the young man continued to ring up his customer and wished him a good evening as he left the station's convenience shop. Just as he was about to settle the cash register, the small bell above the shop door tinkled as the door opened. A tall, black and gray haired woman wearing an emerald green dress that matched her eyes walked in briskly while she closed her soaking wet umbrella and hurried into the warmth of the shop.

"Good evening, ma'am," said the young man as he worked on fixing the overhead light. He briefly glanced at her, offering the woman a kind smile, as he went back to work.

"Good evening," replied the stern looking woman as she searched the aisles for what she was looking for. A fleeting look of recognition crossed her eyes as she took in the young man who was fixing the light, but it was quickly replaced as a glassy blankness filled her green eyes. The woman shook her head and adjusted her square spectacles with its peculiar markings around it as she walked up to the counter to purchase her cat food.

The young man quickly rang up the purchase and bagged the items for his last and final customer of the night.

"Alright ma'am, you're all set. Thanks for shopping with us here at Mimbulus' Petrol," said the man as he handed the woman her shopping bag.

The woman smiled and gave her thanks as she struggled while trying to open her umbrella while taking her shopping bag from the assistant.

The young man hurried out from behind the counter and pushed open the door to the shop as the elderly woman had enough on her hands. She looked up and smiled gratefully at the young man as she opened her umbrella and stepped into the wet night.

"Thank you, Mr. Longbottom."

So what do you guys think? Please drop a review, let me know how you liked the one-shot and if I should continue it as a story. Thanks for reading :)/p