A mere seven days after waking, I left the British Ministry of Magic with a satisfied smile on my face, not even trying to mask having had such a successful job interview.

The moment I had entered the building I was greeted by an onslaught of curious stares. The White Witch title had stuck to me like glue and I could hear people whispering it under their breaths as I passed. I was completely floored when the Ministry opened up into a large central atrium with multiple, brand new golden statues clustered in the middle of a colossal running fountain. Against the black tiling that clad the steep walls of the underground establishment, the brightness of the gold shone impressively. I paused with my mouth open, staring up at the three statues that loomed several stories above, like frozen giants.

In the center stood Dumbledore. On one side of him was the current Minister; Kingsley Shacklebolt, and on the other my father. My eyes roved over his familial features as witches and wizards buzzed passed me in the busy space. They had gone so far as to darn him in the military robes he had died in to aid in the rescue of England, and his signature handlebar mustache was perfectly carved. Around the heads of the statues, little green fairies were buzzing around like glitter in the air.

A snap of a camera brought my attention back to reality and I turned to see that a boy several years younger than myself with wispy blond hair and an intern badge had just taken my photograph using a massive, old school camera. When he saw my intense reaction he took off towards a set of elevators, looking back over his shoulder as if I would be chasing him down. I heard a cluster of middle aged wizards pass by me, and the name Malfoy dropped multiple times.

Our faces, all of our faces, had been on the covers of wizarding newspapers for weeks and great details had been spilled regarding the decisions made by all of the Malfoy's - including myself. The tabloids had absolutely dragged Lucius through the mud, framed me as a crazed lunatic - The White Witch - using her magic in sinister manners, and Draco had well, just been pathetically described as a tool who didn't know who he was anymore. Reeta Skeeter had gone so far as to suggest his absence in society shortly afterwards was due to him being kept at St. Mungo's for instability.

Nevertheless, there was still quite a lot of truth being told amongst those who mattered most. Besides Lucius, the Malfoy's had redeemed themselves greatly for their brave efforts to defeat the dark lord as double agents. My father being the French Minister for Magical Affairs had not hesitated to scold the British Ministry for their poor handling of the situation before the end of the war, and now the entire Ministry had been newly hired and reorganized. If France had not come, there would be no freedom in England. After reading my letter, they had offered an opportunity to interview for the International Confederation of Wizards, in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, in honor of my father's sacrifices.

After the meeting had gone well - despite having to awkwardly pretend that they weren't utterly stunned by my appearance - I was informed that I would start the following Monday which gave me the weekend to prepare. I had also heard back from Harry Potter who'd agreed to come to the Manor. He had made it clear he was trying to maintain privacy at his new residence, only allowing very few knowledge of the location.

On Saturday morning the sun's rays were already blaring down onto the Manor unforgivingly. I left my room in a pale pastel pink dress that flowed loosely from my frame. I was finally starting to tan from sitting out on my balcony in a vain attempt to mitigate how pale I'd grown. I drifted down to Draco's room to check that he was doing alright. Narcissa had been gone for two entire days with no word of returning, but I had seen in the papers that the trial was not going well.

Draco had continued to be curt and snide around me and I decided he was not at all pleased with feeling so vulnerable in my presence. I tended to badger him for my own entertainment which explained why he saw me as a bully. He brought it out in me in new ways that I could not explain and it had become a game of authority. The more he grasped for control the more dominating I instinctively became, aware that I was far more powerful than he was now.

The other half of it was my own anger towards having to look at the boy that I had once loved acting so unrecognizably, knowing his mind had been wiped clear of the years we'd spent together. I didn't find pleasure in being around his immaturity and weakness. If there ever was a match for the twisted, powerful personality I had warped into it would've been the Death Eater I'd spent the war with.

I knocked on his door this time after he'd shot a hex at me the day before for failing to do so. I was surprised when the door swung in of it's own accord. I stuck my head in to see that he was across the room in a chair, writing those ridiculous runes once again. His palm was raised; he'd used wandless magic to open the door.

He watched me with darkened, defensive eyes. He was wearing black pants and a black long-sleeved shirt, somehow having also dressed himself. The way his hair was styled resembled the Draco I had known in the past, long but tidy.

"'ow did you get over dere?" I questioned, shutting the black door behind myself.

He lifted a cane that was resting on the chair's side, "I asked your elf to bring me this cane. I've been taking pain medications in conjunction to get around."

I sat across from him, peering at all of the pages covered in neatly organized runes that were scribbled in perfect rows. He no longer tried to conceal whatever it was that he was working on, obviously having come to the conclusion that I didn't understand it's origin. I was madly suspicious, but even Nibs could not offer me any insider information.

"What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy," he said in a snarky tone.

I placed my hands on my knees and he avoided looking up at me. "Well, I see dat you are busy writing your secret gibberish language," I rudely implied.

He smirked at me and flitted his light eyes up to the ceiling, "If only you knew, Madeleine, you wouldn't be sitting there acting so superior." His gaze suddenly dropped across my thin pink dress with a vulturous glint as if I were sitting there naked, coming back up to land on my eyes with satisfaction.

The sentence intensified my concern regarding what he was up to, but I carefully masked it with a sneer, "Since you can take care of yourself now, I won' bother you again."

"Please, don't," he spat with a laugh.

"Great," I said in irritation, standing abruptly. His bright blue eyes shot to my face, "I 'ave a visitor coming today, so ef you even 'ave de strength to leave dis' room just be aware."

His face flattened seriously, "Who?"

I grinned down at him viciously, knowing it would sting, "'arry Potter."

He visibly scowled, "You're joking. Potter can't come here." He pushed out of the chair, and I watched with burning interest as he moved more confidently and gracefully than he had just days before. He was still, however, quite shaky and winced the entire time as he balanced on the cane. "You can't bring Potter to the Malfoy Manor, that's absolutely unacceptable." Even in his debilitated state, he towered over me in a standing position.

"Why not?" I looked up at him daring him to do anything about it.

He narrowed his eyes at me in once again another stand off, "I don't know where you get off acting like you run this household, but I was here for two decades before you. I am the Lord of this Manor, not you. I may be frail now but that won't last for long. It would be a disgrace to my father to have Potter on this property, don't even think about it."

"Your father is a disgrace, Draco," I said sincerely.

He whipped out his wand, the air made a sickly snap with the hastiness, and my eyes darted down to the threat. "How dare you," he whispered angrily.

"What are you going to do?" I raised my eyebrows lazily. He faltered on the spot, his jaw grinding as he glared down at me. He clearly had no plan as I had suspected.

A wide, cruel smile blossomed across my face as I gradually raised my hand, my fingers curled as though holding an invisible orb as I lit black flames in my hand. My hair began to float off of my shoulders and my vision clouded with darkness, "Shall we duel it out den? I 'ave already burnt down one of your rooms, and it looks like you're getting a little too cozy in dis one."

He took a step back with wide eyes at the extremely rare and forgotten sorcery, "How are you doing that?" The heat of the flames licked at both of our faces as I watched him begin to cower away from my blackened eyes. I extinguished the flames with ease and spun to leave with my dress flowing behind me like a flowery river. I turned just my face to glance sideways back at him, "Don' forget Draco, you are no match for me. Don' test my patience."

"Are you a demon?" he demanded to know, and I could tell he genuinely meant the question.

I laughed on the spot, "You wish."

Harry met me at the gates of the Manor in his typically bland clothing choice, wearing simple jeans and a red t-shirt. His dark hair blew in the hot wind and he had a beard forming along his jawline. He looked thin but overall much more healthy than he had only a month ago at the climax of the war. His eyes drifted uneasily around the wrought iron and to the mansion beyond.

I walked slowly to the gates with my dress and hair blowing off my shoulders, like an ethereal inhabitant of the property. When I reached the gates I wrapped my fingers around the bars and smiled softly at him through the wide slats, "'arry, thank you for coming."

He gave me an uneasy smile in return, his blue-green eyes laced with nervousness, "Madeleine. You look... even more... terrifying, than the last time I saw you. How are you doing?"

I unlocked the gates with a wave of my hand and stepped back as they groaned inwards to allow his entry upon my invitation, "As anticipated, de poisoned Veela magic has consumed my humanity. Otherwise, quite well." The words left my mouth so non-chalantly that he sent me a shocked glance as I guided him slowly down the gravel pathway. "Don' be worried, et es... peaceful, oddly."

He scratched at the back of his neck as the Manor's tall shadow began to shroud the pathway in darkness upon our approach. His eyes darted from window to window as if he expected to see some kind of beast in the glass or a sniper rifle pointed at him. "What about Draco? He survived the killing curse - how?"

I rolled my neck, pulling on the large front entrance doorway, "'e survived, and wit' all of 'is attitude in tact unfortunately. I doubt 'e will see you though, 'e is quite ill and not taking de vulnerability well. And, well, 'e still 'ates your guts." We both laughed at the last sentence as the door slammed shut behind us with an echoing boom. Harry gazed upwards all the way to the slab of the third floor which presented itself as a cantilever ceiling above the ground floor entryway.

"This place is, massive. And cold," he shivered, "I suppose I should've expected it to be this way." I looped my arm through his to guide him to the back porch to entertain his company there, knowing he would not enjoy the internal energy of the Malfoy residence. He followed wordlessly, taking in every feature as we went.

We sat once again in the sunlight of the midday July afternoon. Nibs graciously brought us items to pick at and coffee to sip on. "I just barely missed my birthday," I mused aloud to break the ice, chewing on a croissant.

"When was it?" Harry politely asked back, still staring at my appearance with wonderment.

I cleared my throat and gazed out over the gardens, "July twenty-first. I woke up just days afterwards."

Harry nodded slowly and knowingly, "Well, Happy Birthday."

It was painfully awkward between us. I leaned forward with my elbows on the table. "'e is gone, right 'arry? Voldemort?" My eyes held his unblinkingly.

Harry adjusted his round spectacles, "Yes, he's gone for good. With all of our sacrifices and hard work, we finally defeated him. He's nothing now."

I laid my left arm out onto the table cloth to show him the still writhing dark mark on my skin, "Almost, 'e's almost gone." I knew that the small shred of emotional range that existed as a blip in my soul was showing through some form of sadness or loss on my face as my eyes traced over the awful outline of the skull and snake.

Harry shook his head energetically and put his hand in mine, "Madeleine, you sacrificed more than most of us did. I can see what this has done to you on the outside, I can only imagine what it's done to you on the inside. Have you spoken with Hermione? Maybe we can rehabilitate what's been taken away somehow." His eyes were kind and focused on mine. He pet my hand with his thumb softly.

I inhaled deeply, "I could speak to 'er at work on Monday. She does work wit' de Ministry right?"

Harry's eyebrows popped, "You work there too now?"

I nodded with a forced, faint smile, "Oui. Department of International Magical Cooperation. I will talk to 'er."

Harry toyed with a piece of pear on his plate, "You'll find her in The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Improper Use of Magic Offices. So, is Malfoy still obliviated back to his seventh year?"

I laughed, sitting back in my chair, "Yes, it's quite amusing. 'e is such an idiotic asshole, I cannot bare to be around him for long periods of time. Good for 'im I suppose, getting to forget almost de entire war, myself included."

Harry snorted softly and blinked down at the table, something of interest clearly danced on his mind as he thought about what I'd just described. We sat in silence for a short while until Nibs reappeared with a pop in an elegant little periwinkle dress, "Misses Madeleine, Nibs was hoping she could meet the famous Harry Potter." She looked up at Harry with admiration and he smiled widely down at her adorable approach.

"Hi, and what's your name? Nibs?" he asked in a bright voice, his fingers reaching down to her short stature. She put both of her hands on his and bounced excitedly.

"Yes I is being Nibs, or you can be calling me Nibbles, Mister Harry Potter sir," her dainty, mousey voice made him smile even wider and his eyes shot to me.

"She's free?"

I nodded, sipping on my cup. I placed it down on the saucer and patted her head, "I freed 'er a long time ago, she just chooses to stay 'ere where she feels safe. De Malfoy's assigned 'er as my elf but we soon became friends. She looks quite wonderful in French fashion don' you think?"

Harry reached out and touched her chin, "I think she looks smashing. What do you think Nibs?"

Nibs shrieked, "Nibs is being so happy to be dressed by Madeleine. She is being so beautiful Nibs wants nothing more than to be just like Misses Madeleine!"

Harry looked up at me, his eyes glistening, "Yes, Misses Madeleine is beautiful, isn't she?"

I rolled my eyes and looked away, not sure of how to react. Harry and Nibs chatted for a few moments before he straightened his spine, "Madeleine, I'd like to see Malfoy."

The early morning sunlight was baking our faces as we talked, and honey bees and butterflies had been floating around the breakfast spread before Harry and I. Up until his request to see Draco I had actually been feeling relaxed and content with his friendly visit.

I almost spat my coffee across the table, instead opting to simply momentarily choke on it, "Why would you want to see 'is insufferable ass? Trust me, 'e is not in de mood to see you."

Harry was now petting Nibs' head who had her arms wrapped around his waist at his chair, "I have some loose ends I wanted to ask him about, although, now that I think about it he won't be able to answer all of them. It's worth a try though."

I leaned back in my chair and gave him a serious look, "You are aware dat 'e 'as 'is wand. 'e might shoot at you, yesterday 'e shot a hex at my face just for opening 'is door."

Harry giggled and then stifled it, waving a hand in front of his face, "Sorry, that's just pretty funny you have to admit."

I grinned looking away, "Fine, but don' get your expectations up. At least 'e can 'ardly walk, so we can run if 'e get's flustered." Harry laughed even harder at that thought and followed me closely as we drifted back into the Manor and down the abandoned wing.

At Draco's door I knocked hard on the wood so there would be no confusion about our presence. Once again he wandlessly opened it but this time he elected to rip it open so hard that it slammed off of the wall. It was a bad sign that his mood was hostile.

He was on the floor in front of the fireplace surrounded entirely by the rune parchments, reorganizing them into an even bigger grid than I'd seen previously. I crossed my arms in the door frame, "My visitor 'as turned into your visitor, Draco, if you'll see 'im."

Draco's eyes shot up to Harry with an ugly scowl on his pretty face, and he spoke to me as though Harry weren't standing there clearly in his line of sight, "Tell Potter that I'll visit him when he's dead."

Harry played along, speaking far too loud to be addressing me and looking straight at Draco on the floor, "Madeleine, how about you tell Draco that Hermione would like to try and help both of you, under a new study she is conducting at the Ministry. Draco may be able to have his memories fully regained and the dark mark removed." He was almost shouting it as though he was bitter that he had to relay the offer of help to Draco.

We both looked at Harry in dubiety. Draco dropped his quill and sat back on his knees with a narrow smirk on his face, "Thanks, Potter, truly, for that heartfelt and sincere attempt to save me, but I have my own methods in mind to regain my memories."

"Pffft, please Malfoy," Harry scoffed, stepping into Draco's room boldly, pointing down at the piles of parchments, "Are you trying to map out your mind on paper? Hermione is much more capable of helping you."

Draco raised his eyebrows in dripping amusement and mockery, "Oh no this? This is my private diary. I'm also writing letters to Santa Clause in this pile over here," he leaned forward and pointed to a third stack of parchments, never taking his eyes from Harry, "and this pile is my personal favorite; muffin baking recipes." I laughed out loud behind Harry, who didn't seem offended by my outburst. Draco's eyes flitted to my laughter with a satisfied snort.

Harry controlled his anger by twisting his fingers at his sides, "Alright fine, be a stubborn git. But tell me this, how did you survive the killing curse?"

Draco waved his hand and I could see the pain in his eyes from the motion, "Jealous you're not the only one now, Potter? Wanted all the fame for yourself?"

Harry huffed loudly, kneeling fearlessly in front of Draco, "Come on Malfoy, surely you know now what a burden it is to bare. Tell me how you lived, I'm dying to know."

"Well in that case, keep holding your breath. But if it will get you out of my room," he sighed melodramatically, dipping his quill into ink, "My lovely, satanic wife over there happened to put a moonstone on me for Merlin knows what reason and the curse struck the rock directly."

Harry's shoulders dropped and a sweet smile spread across his face. He turned to me, "So it was love yet again that stopped a killing curse."

I shrugged, leaning in the doorway, "Yes, I suppose in a way. Although de rock physically stopped de blast, you can see 'e is still weak as shit from taking de rest of et."

Draco growled from where he had gone back to writing runes on a new page, "For now, you bitch. Just wait until I can climb the stairs. Sleep soundly up there while you can."

Harry's mouth opened to protest the horrible threat but I interjected, "Don' worry 'arry, Draco can't 'arm me. Let's go."

"One more thing, then," Harry argued, turning back to Draco, "Did you ever steal the Marauder's Map or the Invisibility cloak from me while we were at Hogwarts?"

Draco chuckled under his breath, "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. Let's go with, I don't remember."