The room was cold, a frigid cold. That was all Draco was aware of before the vivid torment of past memories and traumas long forgotten began. The first one, was of him and his father and was when he was first told of his pure blood ancestry. "The Malfoy line has been pure since the very beginning. For centuries the blood line has never been soiled by the filth of muggles and mudbloods. As my only son and sole heir of the Malfoy estate, it is your obligation to continue the blood line. Do you understand Draco?" Draco had been very young when his father told him this, and he just nodded not fully understanding any of it. But the real lesson took place about a week later when Draco was caught playing with a boy his age in a local park. His mother had just left Diagon Alley after finishing a couple errands, when Draco spied the playground. Is was a modest structure with a slide, a pair of swings, and a small seesaw. Draco had never seen, let alone played on a playground before. Being the son of such prestigious parents, he started schooling much earlier and was taught by a private tutor in the privacy of his own home. Because of this he was never exposed to other children (other than the children of his father's colleagues ), and had never made any true friends. Feeling imitated and excited to the new situation, Draco threw a tantrum and demanded his mother let him play on the playground. After several minutes of this she finally (and quite tiredly) agreed, and Draco was left to his own devices while she conversed with a couple friends. As Draco walked to the playground, he felt a strong feeling of sadness as it dawned on him that he might never see a playground again. With that thought in mind, he decided to the most of his first(and most likely last time) on the playground. He had been having a lot of fun on the swings when he decided to play on the seesaw. He sat on one end of the seesaw and jumped up. He was on the ground faster than when he had jumped, so he jumped again, and again, and again. Then he stopped feeling sure that he had forgotten something. In the stories that his house maid Glenda read him, when you jumped you were supposed to stay in the air for a while before falling back down. But something was missing. What was it? As Draco was thinking about it, he felt he feet slowly lift of the ground and he body was soon hovering in the air. Bewildered he looked to the other side of the seesaw to see a little boy siting there. He was around his age and was wearing a bright red jacket. His hair was a darker shade, compared to Draco, and his cheeks were dusted with freckles. He giggled when he saw that Draco was looking at him. "You want to play?" It took Draco a second to figure out that the boy was talking to him, and another one to find the answer to his problem. Draco smiled and nodded. The boy had just solved his problem and was also going to play with him. The boy smiled back and they began jumping one of them in the air, and the other on the ground, and then switched. Then they played tag with Draco chasing the boy, and then the boy chasing Draco. Draco had never been as happy as he had been that day playing with that boy. They were just about to go to the swings again when Draco heard a gasp from behind him. He turned to see his mother's friends with their hands over their mouths as they were whispering franticly to each other while looking at Draco. His mother hadn't noticed yet and was trying to figure out what was upsetting her friends. One of the woman finally calmed herself and pointed at Draco, mouthing words that he couldn't hear, but his mother obviously had. She whipped her head around to see her son laughing with the small boy and her eyes widened in understanding. In less than a second she was up and with Draco's hand held securely in her own, she bid farewell to her friends and hurriedly left the park. Draco surprised that his mother had made him leave his friend so quickly, began to cry in hopes that his mother would let him play some more. His mother wasn't having any of it though as she shushed him and began walking even faster back into Diagon Alley. With all the bustling people about, it was hard for Draco to keep up with his mother as she weaved her way around people and carts. He heard her mumbling to herself, and all he could make out in all the noise was, "Lucius will be furious."

That night his father had been furious. It had turned out that the little boy Draco had been playing with on the playground, had been a young muggle boy. When his father came home, it so happened that the husband of one of his mother's friends had told him that his wife had seen Lucius' son playing with a muggle boy. After hearing that he had rushed back to the manor to ask his wife why she would allow something as disgusting as a muggle, was allowed any where near his son. Narcissa could only answer in a short stutter before he drew back his hand and struck her across the face with enough force to cause her to stumble back. Draco had come down stairs to greet his father from a long day of work at the ministry, when he stopped at the opening to the drawing room. The room was a large one and was only lit by a single candle that rested on a desk on the far side of the room. Two large shadows were projected onto the wall facing Draco. But it wasn't just the shadows that made Draco stop in his tracks, it was the voices. Two loud bellowing voices that undoubtedly belonged to his parents, were bouncing of the walls of the room, accompanied by the sound of fists hitting flesh and whimpers. One of the shadows stood up, arching it's back heaving and breathing in large breathes of air. The other was crouched on the ground holding a hand to what seemed to be it's chest. The standing shadowed straightened and pulled a long stick from it's coat. A wand. Draco was about to enter the room to see who the person was when it spoke. It was father. "Narcissa, we can not allow our son to associate with the scum that is muggles. He will work under the Dark Lord, and what is the Dark Lord to think if he hears that one of his future deatheaters is playing with muggles!? What is he to think of us!?" Draco could only hear whimpering before the standing figure pointed it's wand at the crouching one and yelled,"Crucio!" The figure on the ground screamed and began to whither on the floor as the first figure yelled the spell again and again and again. Until the figure was on the floor lay there unmoving. The standing figure began the step around the figure on the floor, and Draco hurried and hid behind a curtain as the figure left the room. His father walked past him without so much a glance in his direction, and made his up the stairs before disappearing down the corridor. Draco slowly walked out from behind the curtain and walked into the drawing room. The room was still poorly lit by a single candle, but he could easily make out the figure on the floor. Mother. He ran over to her and had to bite his lip to prevent from screaming. She lay in a heap on the floor, her skin coated in sweat and bruises, and her usually bright hair somehow seemed dull in the light of the candle. Crying Draco kept asking his mother to wake up and whether she was okay or not. He didn't notice the figure that approached him from behind until the person's entire shadow covered both Draco and his mother. Draco slowly turned his head. In front of him was his father looming over them with an expression of anger and resentment. He slowly lifted his wand to where the tip was at level with Draco's eyes. "Crucio!"

Draco's body sprang forward as he placed his hand to his chest, feeling his heart beat erratically. He stood up off his cot and walked over to the single pane of mirror in his cell, and looked. His face looked aged and there were permanent dark rings under his eyes due to the lack of sleep. His once pale blond hair was now darker and tangled. When he was in school the girl's thought he was handsome, hot even. He scoffed at the thought of what they would think if they saw him now. He sat back on his raggedy cot and combed his fingers through his tangled mess of hair. He had been in this cell for over two years give or take(he had long since stopped counting) and was pretty sure he would stay in that cell for life. After the war, he was tried in trial for his part in Voldemort's plans. He was a deatheater after all and he had committed horrible crimes such as using two of the three unforgivable curses. Though the Golden Trio tried to plead his case, it didn't do much to the final verdict. For committing heinous acts against humanity, he was given ten years and early release if he had good behavior, he highly doubted that. Many of the people that were in the jury were victim's of some of his father's crimes, so most of them harbored feelings of hatred towards him and his family. So he was sent here to what most people referred to as hell on earth, Azkaban. For two years he has been plagued by numerous nightmares caused by the dementors, of his past and many of things he feared had happened since his imprisonment. Most were about his mother, but they were also about his old friends back in Slytherin. He was allowed to read the Daily Prophet so he knew about the happenings of the Golden Trio since after Harry's defeat of Voldemort they had became international celebrities. Draco was about to try and get some sleep when there was a rattle on his cell door. "You have a visitor. "said a gruff voice and his door opened and he was lead down the stairs by a group of guards in handcuffs. Draco was surprised to say the least, he had never in his two years of being here had ever had a visitor. And most of his "friends" were either in hiding, in Azkaban with him, or dead. He was curious as to who his visitor was as he was lead into a room with a table and two metal chairs where his visitor was waiting for him. As his eyes rested on the figure that was seated right in front of him, he couldn't stop the grin that slowly formed on his face. "Why isn't this a surprise? I thought you would never want to see my face after everything Granger." The woman slowly rose to stand, her chocolate eyes trained on his own gray ones. "It's Mrs. Weasley now." She turned to the guard that stood at the doorway and asked him with a smile if he wouldn't mind leaving for a little so that they could speak privately. The guard nodded and sent a warning look through narrow eyes at Draco, which he responded with a smirk, and exited the room and shut the door behind him. The room was silent as both occupants looked at each other. Then Draco spoke, "So, you finally married the weasel?" Hermione looked at him and scoffed. "I see you haven't changed one bit, Malfoy." He opened mouth to retort a comment but she beat him to it. "I didn't come here to fight with you. I'm here on business." Draco's ears perked up at the strange statement. "Well then, I'm all ears."