Harry,

They tell me I am crazy. You don't say it. You think it. I don't understand. How could they not see it? How could they, even you, turn on me? Me, who tried to save you all.

I am not brave. I am not a Gryffindor. That is you, Harry. You were supposed to be the chosen one. You were supposed to save to world. You thought you did. We all thought you did. But you didn't finish your task. No, I am not blaming you... But I had to take over, you see. I had to be the hero. It is not a role I saw myself in. No one did, I believe. That is why I am here now.

The Janus Thickey ward. The place that strikes fear into the hearts of some, and sadness in others. It lives up to its reputation. It is not a hospital. It is a prison. And the man I love threw me in here. I know, I know, you weren't the only one. They all turned against me.

It started with those dreams. Isn't that how it always begins? I dreamt of the Dark Lord's return. You thought I had lost my mind. You were worried for me. At least, you pretended to be. I warned you, repeatedly. But why would you trust me? You might have claimed to love me, but why would you trust a former Death Eater? It is a dark legacy I thought I left behind me. You all told me I was forgiven. Now I know you lied.

They told me I was slowly slipping into insanity. You consoled me, by having a name for it. PTSD. It is something the Muggles say, I remember you telling me. A disease you all think I have. I don't know if I do. But I know what I don't have; friends. People who have enough faith in me.

I was not insane, I am not insane. I was simply worried for you all. You did not see the omens I saw. You chose to believe you were safe. When people started dying, you chalked it up to accidents. Why didn't you realise that it was a sign, despite me telling you multiple times? I was the only one who cared. Muggles being attacked, muggleborns disappearing, I kept a close watch on it.

And I tracked the attacks. I knew they would lead me to him. There was a pattern. A complicated one they couldn't see. But a pattern nonetheless. I tracked him down. I say it with pride now. I discovered the Dark Lord's plan and his whereabouts.

I remember that night. It was like something out of those Muggle movies you like so much. Me, running behind him. I remember you telling me how dangerous it was. You had warned me. You said you were worried about me. I had run away, hadn't I? Run away to find the Dark Lord in some strange semblance of a chase.

You had begun to follow me. But you gave up soon. Perhaps I wouldn't be here if you hadn't. I spend away despite your screams.

He had not been expecting me. As a result of the element of surprise, most of the few Death Eaters that were with him, escaped quickly. The rest were not hard to take care of. Perhaps it was the Auror training you gave me. I seem to remember the Death Eaters being much more resilient, and fighting back.

Voldemort was scared, of me, much to my surprise. He ran too. Or rather, he tried to convince me. I don't remember what he said, you know. Something about how he was the wrong person and I was seeing things.

But I know better than anyone, to not trust the Dark Lord. I told him this in as many words. So when I was about to attack him, he ran. Or rather, he apparated. It wasn't hard to follow the trail of apparitions though. I remember you told me how it worked.

He ran sometimes too, in and out of alleys I did not even know about. It seemed to me as though he was not fighting back, you know. His spells...they reminded me of the ones you used to use frequently. They were not meant to harm me, just slow me down. But I was stronger than him. You really did weaken him terribly. Still, it took me a long time to catch up to him and corner him.

At the end of the night, I remember standing face to face against him. Everything else is a blur. Did I cast Sectumsempra? Or was it Avada Kedavra? Did I defeat him?

The next thing I rememberer is everyone glaring at me the way they did when I was one of his minions, and throwing me in here.

You never come to visit me, Harry. Are you really that busy? Hermione drops in, sometimes, but the expression on her face is always full of sadness. No matter how many times I ask, she won't tell me what happened. No one will.

So if you won't visit me, maybe you will reply to this letter. That is what I hope, anyway. If you do, I have just one question:

Why am I here?

Yours always,

Draco

Hermione crushed the paper in her fist. She used to have no place for it, and no pity for the writer. She had not forgiven Malfoy for what he had done while at Hogwarts. But for some strange reason, Harry had.

The day she had heard the news, she had broken down. She had been sad and hurt, but most of all, furious. How dare he? How dare Malfoy take away her best friends and her husband? After all they had done for him! She wanted him dead, to say the least.

So she had gone to visit him. To her surprise, it had hit her that he was as broken as she was. He was not thinking straight. The Aurors had been right; he belonged in St Mungo's, not Azkaban.

Tonight, the owl had come from the hospital, bringing the letter, and for the first time she understood what had happened. Or rather, what he thought had happened.

In thinking he was saving the world, Draco Malfoy had killed his own husband.

Author's Notes: Written for the QLFC

Position: Beater 2

Team: Chudley Cannons

Main Prompt: Halloweenr Resurrection (I used the scene where Laurie is chasing her brother and ends up in the hospital, as a basis)

Optional Prompts: Letter, Angst, Watch