CHAPTER ONE: Deflation of Ego and a Second Chance

Malfoy Manor was magnificent. There was no denying it was somewhat tainted from the events which had taken place within, but it was magnificent nonetheless. It had been in the Malfoy family for centuries and was very well preserved. Many of its rooms were furnished with finest oak, and most had their own grand fireplace, the drawing point. The grounds were beautiful too.

Draco used to play for endless hours as a young child, getting lost amongst the hedgerows, hovering over flowerbeds on his first broom, even splashing about in the fountain. He held many happy memories of this home, but everything that had happened over the last year or so made him struggle to see it has home anymore. It wasn't the same place his eight-year-old self had laughed and played without a care in the world.

It was for this reason that Draco had moved out of Malfoy Manor. At least, it wasn't his permanent home anymore. It hadn't been difficult to persuade his mum that he should have a place of his own, especially with his father gone. Lucius had been sentenced to Azkaban where he was likely to spend the rest of his days. Both Draco and his mother had faced trials, too, but were declared innocent for their assistance in the defeat of Voldemort. Draco couldn't help but feel a slight relief with his father gone. He had always made life more difficult than it ought to be.

Draco was now the proud owner of a two bedroom house in central London, Belgravia to be precise, just couple of miles from Diagon Alley. He divided his time between there and the Manor. The house was most modest in comparison with what he was used to, and a hundred miles away from the Wiltshire Mansion where his mother remained. Draco believed the house to be what he needed to establish his independence. Of course, with the Malfoys' vault at Gringotts still piled high with gold, he could have had much more but Draco saw downgrading from a mansion to a small house would give him the help he needed with deflating his ego. He needed to change.

Narcissa was surprised to see her son strolling up the driveway towards the manor at ten o clock on a Thursday morning. He wasn't accustomed to turning up unannounced. She thought to herself how well he was looking, considering everything he had been through.

Draco let himself in, to find his mother in the entrance hall. She looked so happy to see him. His conscience did squirm slightly every time he thought about the fact that he had left her in this huge house alone. To be perfectly honest, he didn't know how she stood to stay there; she was no more pro-murder than he was. He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek and they chatted as they made their way into the downstairs sitting area. Draco sat down in a green leather armchair, his mother taking a seat opposite.

"I received this, this morning," Draco said, holding out a scrolled piece of parchment.

Narcissa's pale hand took it from Draco's and she began to read the letter.

Mr Malfoy,

Here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, we have been taking into consideration that the extreme circumstances of the previous school year which may have lead to a number of students' failures of their NEWT examinations.

After much thought, we have carefully selected a number of students who we feel were affected greatly by last years' events and are inviting them to return to Hogwarts to retake their final year if they wish to do so.

It is my pleasure to inform you that we have selected you as one of the students able to return, as we feel your final grades were affected by either your own or your family's part in the war.

We understand that returning to school may not be the right option for everyone, and urge you to give this offer much consideration before letting us know your decision. Nevertheless, we hope to see you on September 1st.

Regards,

Professor M McGonagall,

Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Narcissa read the letter a second time then looked up at Draco who was watching her closely for a reaction which did not come. Narcissa's expression remained neutral.

"What shall I do, mum?" Draco asked, with genuine confusion in his voice.

"What do you think you should do?" Narcissa asked, softly. When Draco looked uncertain she continued, "Your father isn't here anymore. You know that, whatever decision you make, I will support you wholeheartedly. You're a man now Draco, you're eighteen. You have to make this decision yourself."

Draco relaxed back into the armchair, considering his options. Going back to school when he didn't have to seemed totally against his personality. But then, wasn't this the perfect time to change for the better, even more so than he already had done? Draco thought about how terrible his final grades had been, and knew he could do much better. He considered the job he so desperately wanted in the future, that he'd never told his family about before. In his father's eyes, he would be the next Minister for Magic.

"I want to work for Nimbus," he confessed to his mother, after a few minutes of thinking things over. "I've loved flying my whole life, it's something I have a passion for. And Nimbus are the best out there. I want to work for them."

Narcissa smiled, remembering the first time Draco had ridden a broom. She nodded for him to continue, sensing it was something he'd kept inside for a long time.

"I know it's not the Ministry, or whatever, but it's something I can relate to and it's something I know a lot about. And that's good. But I don't think the grades I have are good enough to get me where I want to be, so..." He paused, wanting to be certain of himself. "I want to go back. I want to go back to Hogwarts and finish things properly."

He breathed a sigh of relief, as though confident he had made the right decision.

"I always had a feeling you'd want to do something to do with flying," Narcissa smiled. She walked over the the armchair where Draco was sat and pulled him into a hug. "And don't worry about what your father would want. He can't play the high and mighty now, look at him. You have a chance to do something you love Draco, grab it with two hands and don't let go."

Draco hugged her, but did not speak. He admired the strength she was showing. It can't be easy for her facing being alone, her husband in prison, her sister dead and her son only at home for visits. Draco had always been the type of person to shy away from his feelings, to bottle them up. But he was never afraid of the love he felt towards his mother. She would do anything to protect him, rather unlike his father.

"I'll have to tell father, I think," Draco said, uncertainly.

"I don't think there's any need, just yet," Narcissa reassured him.

"Thanks for listening, mum. I hope you're not too disappointed -"

"Draco, I would never be disappointed in you!" Narcissa interrupted him. "Whatever you do, you make me proud. You're my only son, you're all I have left. All I want is for you to be happy."

Draco smiled and decided to change the subject.

"So, what do you fancy for dinner?" he asked, grinning. "I'm getting to be quite the house elf living by myself."

Narcissa laughed. She never thought she'd see the day her son would become domesticated.

"Surprise me..."

Draco stood and made his way out to the garden. At the far left was a bench, hidden by flowers and hedges. He'd always liked to sit there for some peace and quite, some privacy. It was somewhere where he couldn't be observed from the study window because it was totally obstructed from view. Not that his father was there to hide from now, but he lowered himself onto the bench, all the same.

Draco leant back and closed his eyes. He breathed deeply, enjoying that fresh smell of rainfall on a summer day. He reached inside his trouser pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Smoking was a habit he had acquired over the last couple of years. He didn't smoke endlessly, he wasn't addicted, but he appreciated the odd cigarette here and there throughout the day. "This is what stress does to you," he thought to himself, inhaling deeply. He leant forward, elbows to knees and blew the smoke out, the cigarette held relaxedly between his index and middle fingers.

He thought back to the time he and Blaise had been caught smoking in the common room by Snape in their sixth year. Snape rarely made visits, especially so late at night, so they'd been sat in a corner of the dungeon room, sharing a sofa. Not many people were around and so Snape noticed straight away, and swept over. Blaise had stubbed his out immediately, apologising. Draco, however, had stared back at Snape defiantly, taking another drag on his. He had lost his respect for Snape during the sixth year. He had become just as intrusive and irritating as the other teachers.

"Put it out," Snape had said in his usual monotone.

Draco had taken a final drag before stubbing the cigarette out on the bare stone wall, keeping eye contact with Snape the whole while. Then he'd simply stood, pushed past his head of house and made his way to his dormitory.

Draco stirred from his thoughts, dropping the remainder of his cigarette on the graveled floor and stepping on it. He stood and made his way back to the house where he found a letter waiting for him on the kitchen table. He knew from one glance at the unsightly handwriting that Theodore Nott had sent it.

Draco,

Me and Blaise have both received letters this morning telling us that we can go back to Hogwarts. I'm guessing you had one too? Anyway, we're going to Diagon Alley tomorrow so meet us there about 11 o clock, if you want. Sorry if you didn't get asked back, mate.

Theo.

Draco didn't know what to make of the last sentence. Sorry if you didn't get asked back, mate... Theodore knew a tiny bit about what he had gone through, that he didn't really have much choice. Draco shook his head, disbelievingly. He shouldn't have expected him to understand but then, he didn't open up to him, or anyone, about what happened, so why would he? Draco sighed, placing the letter back down on the table. He would meet them at Diagon Alley tomorrow, but he wouldn't let them know he was to do so.

"Mother," Draco called, making his way into the sitting area, where Narcissa remained. She was scanning the Daily Prophet, turning the pages with a certain intent. Draco guessed that this intent was to receive any news from inside of Azkaban.

"Mother," he repeated. Narcissa looked up at her son, noticing again how he looked decidedly more healthy than he had done a few months ago. She felt relief. She had done a lot of worrying over her only child over the past couple of years.

"I'm going to the market to get food for dinner," Draco informed her. A few years ago, the Malfoy fridge would have been filled with every delight you could imagine, but things were different these days. Draco took it upon himself to shop at the market every once in a while and take the food home to his mother. It was true that she could barely be bothered to buy food anymore but it was also true that if good food was around, she wouldn't let it go to waste.

"Okay, darling," she responded, and with that, he left.

Malfoy Manor was set within lovely countryside and stood alone. The nearest civilization was the small village about a fifteen minute walk away. Few wizarding families lived in the area, and the market Draco was going to, which took place in the village every Thursday, was for Muggles. Although he had been taught from a young age to integrate with Muggles as little as possible, his parents had always made it clear that he should carry some of their currency on him at all times.

It was cloudy outside, rain had fallen in the early hours, but the sun was starting to make an appearance through some cracks in the clouds. Draco strolled casually along the country lanes. He could have apparated but had decided against it. He liked to walk alone, sometimes. He had become rather used to it over the last two years.

At the market, he purchased a number of different foods to fill the fridge at home. He couldn't bare to think of his mother not eating, but he couldn't always be there to monitor her actions, especially now he was returning to Hogwarts. Firstly, he bought plenty of meat: chicken breast, pork filet, a joint of beef, lamb steaks, and venison sausages. Next, vegetables and fruit. He was rather partial to a green apple. Finally, the basic things. Eggs and bread were his final purchases and he found a spot out of sight to apparate back to the Manor.

The rest of the day passed quickly, as Draco relaxed in the garden with a book and his trusty cigarettes. His mother even brought him out fresh pumpkin juice she'd made herself. She always managed to pull herself together better when Draco was home.

"I'll stay tonight, mum," Draco had told her when she'd brought out the jug and glass for him. She had smiled so genuinely that Draco felt slightly uncomfortable, thinking that, maybe, if he hadn't have moved out, she would be that happy all of the time.

That evening, Draco cooked his mother a meal of roast beef, potatoes and vegetables. They sat together in their overlarge dining room having relaxed and pleasant conversation, the sort they never had with Lucius around. Narcissa was showing great interest in what Draco wanted to do with his future, which he greatly appreciated.

It wasn't always easy to sleep after everything he'd seen but he felt weirdly comforted knowing that his mother was around. This made him feel somewhat childish but it was only in his thoughts after all. He would never voice those thoughts. After spending some minutes considering the second chance he had been given, Draco drifted into a peaceful sleep.