A/N: Sorry for the delay, though it's only really been two days. I had a lot of Christmas shopping to do. PLUS the Doc Manager was down... and now they've changed the format of it. Whaaa? Anyway. CHRISTMAS! Can you believe it's only in a few days?! I certainly can't. I completely forgot to mail out my gifts for my boyfriend's family as well. Oy vey. Well anyway, here's the next chapter! I was going to post excerpts from Bellatrix's diary but this chapter is fairly long and I also am honestly in such a good mood, because Christmas! So I don't think I'd be able to delve deep into the twisted mind that is Bellatrix Lestrange. But I enjoyed writing this, it's interesting going into Draco's life, we see so little of it in the books. I apologize if there are things that don't exactly follow canon, (like for example in the last chapter I mentioned that Narcissa was named after stars as well, but in face she wasn't but oops. Oh well, whateva!) Anyway, here you go, chapter eight :)

PS. All character's and ideas belong to J.K. Rowling, I just like to re-imagine them.


Chapter Eight: Broken Crown

Draco awoke the next morning with a raging hangover. He groaned as he once again trudged to the bathroom and searched for his hangover potion. Unfortunately when he found the vial, he noticed there was not a drop left. "Dammit," he cursed, his hand rubbing his forehead. He scuffed his feet along the ground of his large flat towards his 'office' where he knew his cauldron would be. He briefly thought back to the time he and Blaise had invented a new potion in their fourth year at Hogwarts that would diminish the effects of a hangover greatly. They took pride in selling the potion on the side, up until Draco's sixth year, when he knew he would not have time for such trivial pursuits.

Draco cursed to himself and focused his thoughts on the ingredients of that potion so as not to think of the year that everything had gone to hell. He opened the door and made his way to his shelves of ingredients, searching for everything he would require. It was similar to a pepper-up potion, but with a few tweaks to the brewing and an added secret ingredient, a single dog hair. The potion's strengths however vary depending on type of dog used. For instance, if it is a regular, domesticated dog, the potion will be weaker, if it comes from a magical dog, such as a three-headed dog, or even a gytrash, then the potion will be much stronger. While the latter two are extremely rare, not to mention dangerous, Draco had managed to find vials and vials of hair from both of these dogs one summer while casually browsing the Malfoy family apothecary.

As Draco browsed his own private stash, he cursed as he realised he was also out of mandrake root, a key staple ingredient to the potion. He knew he could easily apparate to the apothecary that he now owned, as it was passed on to him, but he was stubborn and refused to go anywhere his father's filthy hands had touched. He knew he would just have to live with his hangover for the day. It wasn't always this way. Even after the war, Draco hadn't always hated his father the way he did. He didn't particularly feel loving towards him either, but his father had shown that he did care for his family after all when he defected during the war. That's what it seemed like at first, for a little while anyway. But after a while, Draco could see his father's sanity wither away.

Lucius seemed to blame Draco for their failure as a family. He blamed Draco for not trying hard enough to serve the Dark Lord. He also blamed Draco for not trying hard enough to fight against the Dark Lord, to clear the family name. He blamed Draco for the deterioration of the family businesses, eventually taking his anger out physically and magically on his son. It started off with a typical beating from his father's cane, which Draco was all too familiar with. But gradually it started to increase to various hexes, even the occasional Crucio. Draco often wondered why the Aurors on their case hadn't picked up on his father's obvious misuse of his wand while on house arrest. But he now chalked it up to one of two facts that either his father skillfully hid the last remnants of any spells he had used, or the Auror's really just didn't care. The abuse got to the point where Draco would be too afraid to sleep at night as he would constantly hear his father's familiar footsteps pace outside his bedroom door.

Narcissa, a loving mother, would sometimes step in to protect her son, knowing Lucius wouldn't dare hurt his wife. Lucius surprised them one day however, slapping her across the face for disrupting the disciplinary process. No matter the threats and no matter the pain, Narcissa however never used her magic against her husband. While she refused to let her son be punished, she still loved her husband enough to begin taking the brunt of his force as well, which only made Lucius angrier, blaming Draco for Narcissa being harmed. This enraged Draco so much, but he knew there was nothing to be done. After all, in Draco's mind, his father was right. It was his fault. If he had only tried harder to protect the family, then all this pain would end. They could live a normal life.

Draco crawled back to his room and threw himself under the covers, afraid of where his thoughts were drifting. His eyelids started to sink as he slipped into a deep sleep, knowing perfectly where his nightmares would lead this time around.

Draco woke up that morning and quietly made his way to the kitchen for the last breakfast he would be having with his parents. Lucius was sitting at the head of the table; Draco's mother was sitting at his side. Draco took a seat on the other side of his father, his usual place at the table. As they ate in silence, Draco couldn't help but feel a chill through the air as his mother spoke.

"I can't believe it's been a year," she said absentmindedly.

"Has it?" Lucius asked. The older Malfoy's eyebrow rose as he turned to Draco, "confirm for me Draco, how long has it been since your little friend Vincent died?"

Draco clinched his hands into tight fists, but knew whatever he wanted to say would not go over well. "I believe it is," he said, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. He took a bite of a piece of bacon, trying to ignore the glares his father was giving him. "Just say it," he drawled.

"Do not speak to me like that, boy," Lucius spat as he stood from his chair. "You would do well to remember your place."

"And you would do well to remember that in just a few hours I can leave this place," Draco responded.

Lucius gave a dry laugh. "You would not leave your mother here would you?"

Draco growled and got to his feet, leaning towards his father. "You will not harm her," he glared, pointing at his father.

Lucius swat his son's hand away. "You will not threaten your father you insolent child, what I do in my house is my business, and you will not forget that."

Draco lunged at his father, pounding his fists into the man's chest. He caught Lucius jaw with a particularly well placed punch. "You will not harm her you bastard," he growled, holding his father up by the collar of his robes.

Draco suddenly felt himself falling back against the table as his father pushed him down against it. He couldn't help but wince as he felt a few ribs crack as they slammed against the hard surface. He got back to his feet and was about to charge his father again, when he froze as the man held out his wand, pointing it in his direction.

"I should have done this a long time ago," the man sneered, taking a step closer to his only child. Draco reached for his own wand, but cursed himself as he realised he left it in his room. He refused to stoop to his father's level, knowing that at the end of his year it would serve him better for the Ministry to know he had never used magic for, well almost anything really. But today, he instantly regretted his decision.

Draco gripped the table as he felt curse after curse hit various parts of his body. He felt his soul begin to collapse, but forced himself to remain standing, refusing to give his father the satisfaction of watching his son break. Finally there was a break in the pain, and Draco caught his breath. He knew this break wouldn't last long. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain against his right arm. He looked down to see a slice across the skin. He flinched as a knife narrowly missed his other shoulder. He tried to duck out of the way as another knife flew towards his head. He glared back at his father and watched him levitate several knives at once.

Lucius let them hover for a while. "My poor son, grief stricken after the war, couldn't handle the guilt that built up within him," he spoke as he gave a sinister smile. Draco locked eyes with his father, refusing to look away. He knew if he was going to die, he wanted to still have his dignity. Lucius flicked his wand, sending the knives flying toward him, but Draco felt no pain. He couldn't move, frozen on the spot as he felt a weight fall against his chest.

He had to blink a few times to come to grips with what had happened. When he looked down, he felt panic rise to the surface as he watched his mother's eyes begin to drift. "M-mother?" he stammered, gently lowering her to the ground. "Mother, look at me," he cried, placing a hand to her cheek.

Narcissa looked up to her son and gave a quiet smile as she placed her hand on his knee. "Son," she sighed.

"No," he shook his head. "Mother no."

"It's okay Draco, go, you have nothing to hold you here, you're free," she gasped.

"P-please, don't go," he cried.

"Be happy my son," she said as she lifted her hand to Draco's cheek. "I ask you one thing. Find love, be happy, but most of all, you must truly live."

As Draco leaned over his mother's body, he watched as her eyes, once so full of love, began to drain of all life. As he felt his mother's body fall limp, he allowed himself exactly three tears to fall before he masked his face into stone. He calmly rose to his feet and stared icily towards the man that caused this to happen, the man that dragged them all into hell.

Lucius stood and watched his wife's lifeless body on the ground, a knife deeply embedded into her chest. Blood pooled all around her. Draco yelled at his father, but got no response. He tried again, "look at me!" he shouted. His father's eyes shot in his direction and Draco watched the last bit of his father's soul crumble away. "You bastard! You will rot in hell for this. The Aurors will be around and they will see this, and they will know what you did, what you are. I hope you like your new cell, Lucius."

Draco woke up, feeling his face damp with fresh tears. He recalled the rest of that day. He had been so sure that the Aurors would find what his father had done and lock him away for good, but yet again, his father somehow escaped judgement. To this day, he still had no idea how he managed to cover up his tracks this time, but according to Daily Prophet his mother was so stricken with grief over all that had taken place, and the abandonment of her only son drove her to suicide. He threw his pillow across the room and watched as it broke a mirror on the wall. Once again, his father had won. He indirectly pinned her death on Draco, only adding more weight to the pile on his conscious.

Draco climbed out of bed, glad his hangover was starting to wear thin, but only groaned as he realized the time. He had spent nearly the entire day in bed, and he had hoped to spend the rest of it there too, but his stomach suddenly had other plans. He bolted from his room and made it to the toilet just in time as he spilled his insides into the bowl. Draco really wished he still had some of that potion left. Suddenly an idea came to him. "Blaise," he muttered as he got to his feet. He performed a quick cleansing charm and made his way to the fireplace. Grabbing a pinch of floo powder, he called his old friend's address and stuck his head into the green flames.

Draco sputtered as the ash filled his mouth before shouting to his friend. "Oi, Blaise!" he shouted, trying to see if the man was in the immediate area. He could hear footsteps in the other room followed by a snicker. "Dammit Blaise, get your arse in here," he growled.

He could hear Blaise's laughter getting louder before finally seeing his friend's familiar smirk. "Well, well, if it isn't The Draco Malfoy," he drawled, bringing a chair close to the fire. "And here I thought you fell off the edge of the earth?"

"Still here mate," he grumbled, "now are you going to help me or what?"

"Tsk tsk, someone's in a mood," the other wizard laughed. "What can I do for ya mate?"

"Out of Hangover Potion and mandrake root. Got any?" he said, rather annoyed with his friend's games.

Blaise crossed his arms and couldn't help but laugh at his friend's obvious discomfort. "I do, come on over," he said as he stood to make room.

Draco stepped through the fireplace and dusted off the soot from his clothes.

"You look awful mate," Blaise commented, slapping his friend on the back.

"Still better looking than you," Draco growled.

Blaise raised his hands in defence, a grin plastered on his face. "Easy there, follow me."

Blaise led Draco through his flat to where he kept his potions. Draco noticed he had the bottles all neatly organized by colour then alphabet. It took him no more than ten seconds to find the correct one and tossed Draco's way. "Thanks," he muttered as he removed the stop and tilted the contents down his throat.

Blaise leaned against his desk and folded his arms across his chest. "Don't mention it, now why don't you tell me what's got you in this state."

"I don't think so Zabini."

"Come on Draco," Blaise sighed. "It's me. You've confessed worse, and I haven't seen you in almost a year. I think I deserve at least a hint on what you've been up to lately."

Draco glared at his friend, but couldn't keep the scowl on his face for long. "Well most of the year has been the same as always," Draco sighed. Blaise nodded in understanding. "But the last week has been, well, you wouldn't believe it if I told you."

Blaise leaned forward, his hands resting on the desk behind him. "Go on," he was intrigued. He knew while Draco's life certainly wasn't easy, it was predictable. For something new to happen was interesting. Very interesting indeed.

"I'm not sure what I'm allowed to tell, but I guess I should start with last night," Draco said, scratching the back of his head. Thanks to the potion, the memories of the day that caused him to spew well into the next evening were coming back to him. He recalled what he found in the Manor, his stumbling into the Ministry midday, and especially his interesting evening with the Golden Girl herself. He smirked as he recalled their little exchange at the end of the night. "Well for starters, guess who I had drinks with last night."

Blaise thought for a minute, not really having a single clue. He gave a small shrug and his eyes widened as Draco muttered two words he never thought he would hear. "Hermione Granger." Blaise couldn't help but laugh.

"You serious mate?" Draco nodded in response, not quite able to believe it either. "So what, like a date?"

It was Draco's turn to laugh, he was surprised to see his nose didn't crinkle in disgust as it normally would at a suggestion as outrageous as that, but he paid no mind to it. "More like a funny coincidence really," he shrugged. "We just happen to live near each other I guess. Ran into each other at the nearest muggle bar."

"And what were you doing at a muggle bar?" Blaise asked. He was surprised more and more by the conversation they were having.

"Well, it just so happens, people in the wizarding community haven't forgotten my family's involvement so aren't exactly willing to give me a drink, the arseholes." Draco explained as he leaned against the shelf.

Blaise nodded as he started to walk out of the room, Draco following behind. "So what's the little Gryffindor princess up to these days?" Blaise continued while they walked back to sitting room.

Draco shrugged, "well, I know she works for the ministry, but other than that I don't know much else."

"She still with that Weasel bloke?" Blaise asked.

Draco shook his head, "don't think so, saw him at the Hogwarts memorial service with some girl. Not sure who she was, but leave it to him to throw away the one good thing he had."

Blaise looked incredulously at his friend. "You went to the memorial?"

Draco groaned as he rolled his eyes. "McGonagall sort of tricked me into it," he said nonchalant as he sat down on the loveseat. When Blaise glanced at him waiting for more of an explanation Draco sighed deciding he should just start from the beginning. "Alright Blaise, you win. But you have to promise me, you will not tell a soul what I'm about to tell you. Got it?"

Blaise sat in the chair across from him and leaned in, folding his hands under his chin. "When have I ever given up your secrets?" he asked, pretending to be offended by Draco's accusations.

Draco rolled his eyes again, leaning back in his seat. "Okay well, McGonagall wanted me to come to the memorial, claiming she was trying to assimilate me back into society. She bribed me with Firewhiskey the old bat," Draco laughed, "you'd think she were a Slytherin. Anyway, turns out she had other pretenses for that night. Apparently there's some prophecy involving Granger, and my Aunt Bella, and she needed to ask me questions to see if there's any chance my Aunt could still be alive. Of course Potter and Weasley were there, panicking over their girl like she was made of porcelain, but as usual she put them in their place. I've also never heard Granger actually talk back to a professor before, it was quite amusing really."

"W-wait, but Bellatrix is dead isn't she?" Blaise asked.

Draco sighed and shrugged. "Turns out, after a quick trip to Manor, she's not. She's an animagus."

"Bloody hell," his friend gasped and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, and well, I guess I got plastered yesterday when I found out. I went to the Ministry to let the bloody three know and then went back to the pub. Next thing I know, Granger is sitting across from me and we're actually having a semi-decent conversation. She's not half bad to be honest, still infuriating, but she certainly can hold her liquor, I'll give her that. Assuming she held off better than I did today." Draco racked his mind to see if he had left anything out, but figured all the important stuff was said.

"Interesting," Blaise calculated as he sat back in his chair. "So you're all chummy with them then are you?"

Draco laughed then, knowing his friend was merely taunting him. "Hardly, but I'm going to have to what I can to help them figure this out. You and I both know if my Aunt returns we're all as good as dead."

Blaise nodded in agreement. "So what are you going to do?"

"Well, Scarhead and the Weasel king said they'll dig up what they can, so we can consider them hopeless, and Granger's going to work out this prophecy thing, but I told her she can send me an owl if she needs help, and I'm going to try and figure out where she would have gone. Any ideas?" Draco asked Blaise.

"Sorry mate, but if I hear anything, I'll let you know," his friend offered. "Fuck mate, you should've come to me earlier about this, you know I've got your back."

Draco smiled at his friend. He always knew he could trust Blaise, but in the past he tried to stay away from his faithful friend, not wanting to drag him into his hell too. He had ruined enough lives as it was. "Thanks Blaise, but honestly, I only figured this all out yesterday."

"You could've at least brought me to the reunion, I would've loved to see the look on everyone's faces as you showed up," he laughed.

Draco grinned, "Weasley certainly was redder than a baboons arse." Draco really felt grateful to have a friend like Blaise. He never tried to change Draco, just accepted him as is, and was always more than willing to go a few rounds at the pub whenever Draco needed to forget. "So what's your life been like lately? I haven't seen you in almost a year," he mocked, repeating his friend's earlier words.

Blaise chuckled as he began to tell Draco about his work. His work as a potioneer had started to bore him, so he started his own potion business, selling a variety of potions. He specialized in cosmetic potions as he loved the attention from the wide range of women who would come into his store in search of some sort of hair removal potion, or weight loss potion. He made a habit of making the effects only last so long, but the results impeccable, guaranteeing a constant flow of new and returning customers. Draco had to admit he was impressed albeit a little jealous that his friend had achieved so much just in the past year alone.

"You know, I could get you a job," Blaise offered, laughing as Draco politely shook his head.

"I'll come to you when Lucius' money runs out, but for now I'm good."

"Well, whatever suits you," Blaise commented.

Draco looked up at the time and sighed, it was already well past ten o'clock. He decided his initial plans for the night would have to wait until the next day, tonight he decided to actually get a decent sleep for once. "Well, I really should get going, but I'll send you an owl tomorrow, we should go for a drink sometime next week," Draco offered as he got to his feet.

"Definitely," Blaise grinned, following his friend's motion.

The two shook hands and Draco tossed a handful of Floo Powder into the fire. "See ya mate," he waved and whirled away as he spoke his address.


Okay, so any comments? or concerns so far? or questions? or even suggestions? I'm open to any and all! Hopefully I'll get another chapter up before Christmas! If I don't, Happy Holidays to you all, and a Happy New Year too!