Draco sat on the Hogwarts Express, his face turned to gaze out the window as the trees whizzed by. Eighth year. It sounded like a joke. After the war, everyone wanted to get back to normal. Many of the students in his classes had opted to go back for a repeat year, and Draco had been lumped into it. He had lucked out in his trial. His father of course had been sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban, and his mother had been admitted to St. Mungo's hospital. After Voldemort's death she had broken, mentally and physically. Draco though had been lucky, and he wasn't even sure why, but Harry had come to his trial and even spoke on his behalf.

So now, here he sat. Probation, technically. He was to finish out his eighth year of schooling, he had to keep his head down and stay out of trouble. Once he was done, he'd already made arrangements with the ministry. His mother would come home and he would spend his days taking care of her.

All he had to do was make it through the year. Then he could enjoy his life without his father's tyranny. He could enjoy a life in the country, a life...a real life.

Of course all of that depended on this next year. If he made one wrong move, one step out of line and he would find himself sitting in Azkaban faster than he could say Quidditch.

Draco looked out his window at the passing woodlands and let out a soft sigh. He was sure that he wasn't the only Slytherin that would be returning this year. Many of the others parents had been hauled away as well and taken to Azkaban. Goyle and Blaise has both been living in a boys home over the summer, Pansy had an aunt she'd stayed with, and Crabbe. . . Well his body was never recovered from the fire. His parents were found dead in their homes before the ministry had gotten there.

He couldn't imagine they would be very happy to see him. The news must've surely gotten out how his mother lied to the Dark Lord, how in the final battle he and his family had suddenly traded sides. He was a blood traitor and he could only hope that it didn't matter anymore. He'd get enough grief from the Golden Trio and all of their followers.

There was the rattling of a cart in the hall and Draco knew the trolley was making its round. That meant they must be half way there. He closed his eyes and tipped it back on the seat with a soft sigh. Maybe a nap would ease his mind, at least until the arrived at the castle.

There was a soft knock on the door to his compartment and it slid open just slightly.

"Anything from the trolley dear?" A sweet soft voice filled the space and Draco opened his eyes.

"No, thank you." He said offering his own pleasant smile to the old woman. Her eyes widened suddenly as she laid eyes on him and she sucked in a breathe.

"Y..you? You're one of..one of them." She stammered out as she shut the door quickly. He heard a soft click and realized she must have locked him in before she hurried away with her cart. Probably to tell the conductor there was a Death Eater on board.

The ministry had said they would smooth everything out. But knowing their track record, he knew that it was probably too good to be true. In just a few moments he knew the whole train would know he was there. His last moments of peace were fleeting away.

Author Note*

First chapter is kind of short just testing the waters here. I'm hoping to post pretty regularly here but life can get messy.

As always, I appreciate any comments or feedback. This will be a Drarry fiction but a slow burn fic.

Hope you enjoy!