Draco was sitting underneath an old oak tree down by the lake. Knees pulled up to his chest he hunched over arms wrapped firmly around his knees crumpled parchment in his fist. He had received a letter from his mother detailing the verdict from his father's trial. It was no surprise really, but that didn't ease the knot forming in his stomach. Life sentence in Azkaban. For the rest of his life, his father would be locked away, visitation was once a year. Draco sighed, "It could be worse" he whispered, they had enough evidence to go for the Kiss…Draco was lost in his own spiraling thoughts when granger sat down across the shore. When he finally looked up she was scribbling away, 'Probably some essay' he thought to himself. The sight of her was a strange comfort these days, he had spent so much time in his youth watching her, wanting to talk to her, someone who might be on his level intellectually, but he had lacked the guts to break tradition. So he'd been a prick instead. And then one day bad had gotten so much worse, he could still hear her screams... He dropped his head back onto his knees, it seemed like all he could feel these days was crushing self-loathing and regret…

Hermione was trying not to cry as she scrawled out her letter to Ron. She half wanted him to know how hurt she was half of her did not. Breaking up will only cause another media frenzy "which he will love" she muttered angrily, but it's this or stay with someone who clearly didn't love her nearly as much as he loved himself. Putting it that way made things seem so easy… She wondered how Harry would take it, he always suffered so much when they fought in school, but this would be final, no making up. He would understand, of course, he could see what Ron had become but at least he had Ginny. They were top of the world, blissfully in love. Hermione smiled, 'Yes, Harry would be fine but the golden trio will be gone'. She sighed as she signed her name and set the letter aside to dry. She leaned back against the tree and noticed the pale blonde figure across the water. His hair was longer, and a mess, his shoulders shook his thin, hunched frame. Concern wrinkled her brow, Draco was crying.

Unable to hold it back any longer Draco released the torrent of pent up pain, anger, and regret that had been threatening to tear him apart since he first got the dark mark and his first mission. He finally got what he had been brought up to think he wanted. Singled out by the dark Lord elevated to death eater status, trusted, chosen. Finally, he had taken his place but it was not what he had imagined. He remembered how he had foolishly bragged to his friends and showed off the mark in sixth year. "pathetic" he mumbled. How could anyone raise a child to believe that they wanted to kill people, any people, even their family, and friends if it meant satisfying the Dark Lord's wishes. For Merlin's sake, he had seen one of his school's teachers murdered before his eyes and then be consumed by a snake, while everyone around him laughed like it was the best form of entertainment they'd ever seen. The memories tore through him. The cowardice, the paralyzing fear, all the despicable things he had witnessed or been privy to, all the people who were dead, and here he was sobbing in the setting sunlight and back at school like nothing had happened. But everything had happened and he couldn't contain it anymore.

Hermione watched as Draco Malfoy fell apart before her, her first instinct was to go offer help or comfort but something held her back. Anger, maybe, the spiteful sense that he deserved whatever it was he was dealing with, definitely. She looked down at her arm, MUDBLOOD stood out against her light brown skin, pink and taut. She had not forgotten how he stood there and watched while his aunt tortured her in his dining room. He stood motionless as his aunt carved hatred into her flesh, effectively branding her. Undoubtedly, he deserved whatever pain he was feeling… but still.

Hermione didn't go to Draco, her Gryffindor courage failed. In class the next morning she watched him but he gave no sign of having ever been upset. He stoically completed the assignment, packed his things, and read for the remainder of the class. She wondered what he was reading... Hermione brushed thoughts of Draco aside, she had her own problems to deal with, her own memories that haunted her, her own damage and she really didn't need his. A tiny twinge of regret nagged the back of her mind, Draco had always been right behind her in every class, he might have been a good friend, someone with intellectual interests whom she could converse with. Harry and Ron had been smart but they didn't have the thirst for knowledge or the desire to prove they belonged. Ambition, they didn't have that, Draco did in spades. Maybe if she had gone over she could have made a friend, one who was on her level…she caught herself rising midway from her seat...but that was stupid, she shook her head. No, he would never want to be her friend. The war was over but that didn't mean the world was changed. They were still who they were.