Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter, I really appreciate it! And as promised, here's the next part.

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"Draco, please. I don't ask for much but I am asking you to get out of the house." Narcissa's steel blue eyes pleaded with her son. Draco sat in one of the two black leather study chairs in the library, his feet leisurely stretched out on the ottoman in front of him. He sighed when his mother began her speech and snapped closed the book he had been reading, he knew the speech well; he heard it nearly every day. And every day she received the same answer.

"Mother, I can't go out in public. You know people are still looking for me. You might be safe but that doesn't mean I am." He pushed a piece of white-blonde hair out of his eyes and stared at her, a bored _expression on his face.

"You've gone out before. Can't you just change your appearance like you used to? Your father taught you all those spells, why don't you use them any more?" At the mention of his father Draco's face turned to stone, hiding any emotion he had been feeling previously.

"Don't talk about him Mother, please. I have no father, and that's all there is to it." He hurriedly flipped back to his place in the book and tried to look immersed in the text and willing his mother to just go away.

"Draco, Lucius is dead. I know it's hard for you but I'm tired of seeing you stay as a prisoner in this house! It's supposed to be a happy place full of childhood memories. Not memories of reading and re-reading books on, what is this anyway?" She lifted the spine just enough so she could read the title. "Dragons. Well, at least it's not the Dark Arts. Draco, please. Go to Diagon Alley. I just need you to pick me up a few things.

'Happy place?' He thought to himself. 'Do all happy places come complete with their own elaborate torture chambers, dungeons, and man-eating animals hiding in the shrubberies?'

"Please?" She asked again. "All I need is some more parchment, a few nice quills, and we've run out of ink as well. You'll only have to go to one store. Just change your hair and put on those sunglasses you're so fond of." When he looked into her eyes he knew she had won.

Slowly, he dragged himself out of the chair and reached for his wand on the nearby table.

"Abeo Caesaries." He muttered and his hair turned a vivid black. He grabbed the sunglasses resting next to his wand and slipped them on, hiding his stormy gray eyes. "I'll be back soon." He said and headed for the library door.

He removed one of the long black cloaks from a hook by the door and slung it over his shoulders, pulling the hood over his head. Narcissa watched him with a smile on her face. She didn't really need any of the things she had sent him for but it was nice to see him going somewhere besides his bedroom and the study.

"Be careful!" She called after him before he was out of earshot. He turned back and gave her a small smile before apparating from his place with a soft crack and reappearing in the middle of Thee Broomsticks.

Draco almost ran into an elderly couple on his way out the door. He swerved to avoid them and found himself standing directly in front of a table that seated none other than his three school rivals, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley. They were deeply involved in a discussion on what sounded like a very complex magical duel and their faces were all glowing with pride.

He stood dumbfounded and stared at them, loosing track of time. He hadn't seen them in half a year and being near the three people brought back more memories of school than he had known he had.

Hermione shifted nervously in her seat, her back facing him. She turned and looked up at him, trying to figure out if she knew him. Her cinnamon eyes searched his dazed _expression for any familiarities.

"Can we help you?" She said kindly, her eyes still darting left to right and back again. He snapped out of his gaze and looked at each of their faces.

"N-no." He stuttered, slowly backing away from the table. "Sorry to disturb you." Draco stuck his hands into the deep pockets of his cloak and turned quickly on his heel towards the exit. He collided with Madame Rosemerta who was carrying a tray bearing several mugs of butterbear, and sent both of them flying, also causing the drinks to sail through the air and thus shattering the mugs when they made contact with the wooden floor.

His eyes flashed from the scene playing out before him to the three astonished faces at the nearby table. His pale _expression turned bright red with fright, humiliation, and surprise. He fled from the pub without saying another word and didn't stop to breath again until he was safely concealed inside Flourish and Blots.

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Hermione remained shaken long after the dark stranger had left. She silently sipped her drink and listened while Harry and Ron went over the latest Quidditch standings. Part of her reached out to him. He looked so alone and small with his shoulders hunched over and his gaze aimed downwards.

She could tell he had been uncomfortable and startled when she had spoken to him. Like her voice had struck a chord inside him and began playing a song there.

She felt like she knew him. His presence was familiar and unnerving. She recognized the way his hair had fallen carelessly in his eyes and how his face was a shield to anything he felt. She knew he had felt the same when he saw Ron, Harry, and her as well. The same _expression had flickered on his face as the one that she wore when she saw him. But she couldn't place him, didn't know who he was.

"Earth to Hermione. Come in Hermione." Ron said, drawing her out of thought. She cleared her head by taking a long drink from her mug and turned her attention to her two friends.

"Sorry, what were we talking about?" She said.

"You zoned out there for a minute 'Mione. Sure you're okay?" Harry said, his green eyes searching her.

"Fine, just thinking." She said, yawning in the middle of her sentence. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Almost nine." Ron said, glancing at the clock hanging on the opposite wall. "We should probably head home, getting late."

"Right." His two friends said in unison. The three left the money they owed on the table and stood up.

"Night." They all said to each other before each apparating to their own apartments.

Hermione walked aimlessly around her bare flat. She had lived there for a little over five months yet the rooms still looked empty and the walls were still stark white. She had no family pictures or paintings to hang on them. She didn't spend much time at home. She was always off working and rarely spent the entire night there. The few pieces of furniture she owned were the ones she had felt were absolutely necessary to own after graduation.

She entered her small kitchen and swung open the refrigerator door, staring at the contents inside, an expired carton of milk and a two-week-old turkey sandwich. Sighing, she threw both items into the trash bin before picking up the telephone.

"Hello, I would like to place a delivery order." She said to the person on the other end. "One small sausage and pepperoni pizza with double cheese and a small Diet Coke please." She gave the waiter her name and address and took some money from her billfold to pay for her food when it arrived.

While she waited she pulled a stack of papers from her briefcase and began pouring over the information on the case Harry, Ron, and she would take part in the next day. A wizard, still not prepared to accept Voldemort's demise, had sent the dark mark into the sky and begun a small riot. The group had died down after several hours but in that time period they had murdered several Muggles and severely tortured one of the Ministry's officials.

A sharp knocking on the door drew her away from the mass of papers to retrieve her dinner. She thanked and paid the deliveryman, clicking the door shut and taking the pizza box back to her chair and beginning to eat.

During her second slice a piece of cheese fell onto a page of Percy's report of the situation, breaking her concentration. She stared at the food in her hand and her briefcase in the other and moaned.

"I have no life." She said to herself and slammed the case closed. "I just got home from a three day work trip and what do I do? I order take out and work some more."

Hermione threw what was left of the pizza in the trash and headed for her bedroom. Completely exhausted, she collapsed onto the bed with her clothes still on and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

-=-=-=-

"I'll take three rolls of parchment, two of those golden eagle quills, and an ink well please." Draco said nervously and fingered the various coins in his pocket.

"Yes, of course sir." The clerk said and retrieved the materials. That'll be five knuts and two sickles." Draco grabbed the parcel and threw the money onto the counter with a muttered thanks. He quickly apparated back to the sanctuary of the library. Narcissa sat in the place he had previously occupied, reading his book.

She looked up at him when he arrived and smiled. Elegantly, she rose from the chair and took the supplies he had clutched so tightly in his hands that his knuckles were white, even paler than usual.

"Thank you Draco." She said and kissed him on both cheeks, her pink tinted lipstick contrasting greatly on his blood-drained face. He looked at her wide-eyed and turned on his heel, striding with great speed towards his bedroom.

Once inside he locked the mahogany door and leaned his back against it. Breathing in deeply for the first time since he had encountered his past schoolmates.

The air rushed in and out of his lungs as he slid to the floor, resting his head against the door behind him. Seeing them again had made him realize how much his life had changed since he had last seen them.

He was no longer the immature, snobbish kid he had been at school. The death of his father had changed him for the better in many ways. He realized how much pain he had put people through and how it felt to be pitied, something he had never been before.

People had hated Lucius Malfoy. There had been people celebrating in the streets after his funeral. Draco didn't blame them. After his death he had begun to hate him too. His father never let him in on the horrible things he did; he had chosen to keep them all a secret.

After the burial Narcissa had taken him aside and sat them both down on a stone bench in the garden.

"There are some things you have to know about your father, Draco." She had said, tears rimming the still blueness of her eyes. He hadn't liked the tone she used during the beginning of their talk. He had always loved his father and modeled himself in his image.

He remembered not being able to look into his mother's eyes throughout their conversation. Not wanting to believe anything she said to be true. Not wanting to be trapped in that garden listening to the terrible things his father had done.

So he had tried to become like one of the statues that surrounded him, still and lifeless, cold and silent. But he couldn't block out everything.

"Draco I was never in love with your father." She had started. He had continued to stare at the ivy growing up and over the curves of a statue several feet away from him. "I couldn't tell you until now. But, oh, how I wanted to."

"I was three years below your father at Hogwarts when we were in school. He was never concerned with personality or compassion. Beauty was the only thing that mattered to him. He told me once that I looked like a more feminine and delicate version of himself, and that's why he chose me. He said we would have a beautiful child together, and we did."

"After I graduated he placed me under a very strong Imperious Curse, so strong only an extremely powerful wizard could have fought it, and even then they would have had an exceptionally hard time fully overcoming it. I have been under the spell for nearly twenty years. It was lifted when he was murdered."

Her tears had begun to fall but she was a strong woman and she carried on, ignoring them.

"He ruined any chance of a happily ever after I could have had with the man I loved, for he believed me a traitor when I married Lucius. The only good thing that came out of that dreadful marriage was you Draco. You're my whole life now."

"Were you ever in love Mother?" He had asked tentatively, his eyes never leaving the marble statue.

"Yes actually ff you can believe that. I was deeply in love while I was at school and we had talked about planning a future together after graduation, but it never happened."

"With who?" He had interjected.

"It doesn't matter any more. It's ancient history by now, he's long gone." Her tears had stopped falling and a glaze formed over her face, turning its smooth whiteness into solid ivory stone.

"Your father took him from he, helped to frame his downfall. Lucius was not a good person. Most people said he was rotten, that he had had a bad childhood. But that's no excuse for what he was. It's never too late to change, Draco. Remember that and don't do what he did."

She had grasped his hand in both of her smaller ones and brought it to her lips, kissing the palm lightly. She had then hugged him tightly to her and returned to the handful of guests who had come to the funeral.

He remembered the day like it was yesterday, although it had happened four months ago. The odious fire still fueled him to go on.

The day's events played back through his head in slow motion, reliving every detail slowly and picking up on things he hadn't noticed before. He had been so overcome with shock at the time he hadn't noticed the midnight blue robes the three wizards had worn, the uniform of an Auror.

'They're all Aurors.' He thought and ran a hand through his hair, reminding himself it was still black. He quickly reversed the spell and tossed his wand across the room so it landed on his feather bed. Lupin always said they would be. Perfect for the job of course, fit right into the description. They probably make a great team.' He yawned, reminding himself how late it was getting, and shook the hair out of his eyes.

'Aurors were always father's nemesis.' He thought as he crawled under his black silk sheets after changing into his pajamas and turning off the light. 'They fought for everything he despised. The good in the world, truth, happiness.'

He opened his eyes suddenly. 'That's it,' he thought to himself. 'It's the only way.'

At that moment Draco knew what he had to do to overcome his father's destiny for him. He must become an Auror.

He quickly lept from his bed and walked briskly down the hallway to where his mother still sat in the library. The marble floors felt cold against his bare feet. He knocked lightly on the open door to announce his presence.

"Draco?" She said and looked at him, a line of confusion on her forehead. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." He said as he quickly walked across the room and sat opposite her on the ottoman of the chair, taking her hand. "Do you remember how you told me that it's never to late to change?" He watched her eyes carefully, almost pleading with his own for her to understand.

"Yes, Draco." She said softly and squeezed his hand, watching him quizzically. "What's all this about?"

"I realized tonight that the only way I can keep from becoming like Father is to become the exact opposite of him." Draco said, looking into her eyes, and searching desperately for an ounce of realization, but he only saw incomprehension.

"What are you talking about? I don't understand, Draco." She said, straining her mind to figure out exactly what it is he was trying to tell her.

"I need to become an Auror, Mum." He said and a wave of fear swept across her fair face.

She stood suddenly.

"When I told you that you needed to get out of the house I didn't mean you had to leave me." She whispered, her blue eyes now only showing him grief. "What about the dangers, Draco? What will you do if someone recognizes you; realizes who you are and tries to kill you? Where will that leave me? I can't stand to lose you, you're all I have." She was tugging at her hair nervously, looking at him in distressed anxiety.

"I'll be careful. I promise. No matter what, I won't get caught. I can't afford to." He said as he pulled her hands away from her hair and gently wrapped his arms around her frail body. She was the only one he had ever really loved.

He felt her quake a little in his arms and she glanced up, brushing his hair away from his eyes, her finger lingering on his cheek as she studied his face.

"Use a disguise." She said, automatically beginning to pace the room thinking of ways to protect her only child. She veered around and pointed a finger at him. "And a pseudo name, your real one carries too much bad luck with it."

Draco watched her intently. He noticed she had begun crying.

"Mum. . .come here," he said, patting the chair across from him.

She walked over quickly and sat back down, immediately grabbing onto his shoulders and holding him tightly to her.

"Draco, be careful. Please, come back to me, son." He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as he stroked her hair, trying to keep from crying.

He let out a ragged breath before he stood to go back to his room. As he crossed the threshold of the door he turned back around and studied his weeping mother. She smiled weakly, her eyes glistening slightly.

He sniffed, blinking, and returned her smile.

"Don't worry, I will."

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Yes, I know, a very sappy ending. Cut me some slack though, please? I promise I won't do it too often. It has been proven in many studies that the right dose of sappiness is good for your mental health. Well, not really.

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