Chapter one:

"It takes the pain away"

It was a couple of days before Christmas at the Malfoy manor, and the young master found himself sitting outside by a wall, facing the sun. Closing his eyes he could feel the frost loosing its grip. But the cold in his heart was much deeper than what a sun could ease. The only moments it could feel like something melted away from the surface, was when he imagined the sunrays to be warm lips of a person he'd only met once. And that was two months ago. But it still felt like last night.

Draco stood up with a sigh. He always did it when he thought of Her.

Brushing off the fallen snow he walked back inside through the kitchen entrance, where he left his wet clothes and continued to the study. Inside the great room sat the master of the manor.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Lucious Malfoy wasn't a particularly cruel man. Not in his own mind anyway. Wasn't that what was important?

He sat in the study, reading through the Daily Prophet, as his son came in. He could see that the boy had been out for a walk by the rosy tint in his face, and the hurried yet dignified walk towards the roaring fireplace.

Lucious smiled. Yes Draco would be a perfect Malfoy. He had it all: the looks, the style, the aristocratic air of supremacy, and eventually the wealth, of a Malfoy. A frown found its way to the elder mans forehead. If only he could get the boy to stop thinking of moving in to a muggle flat, and make a living of his own. It simply wasn't becoming of a nobleman of such an old and esteemed family as the Malfoy house. Of course, they had a couple of setbacks and scandals in the past, all thanks to the great Boy Who Lived.

Sighing he returned to the paper, not really reading what new gossip was going on around in the wizarding world. No, his thoughts were more on his sons future. He wasn't against the idea of the boy moving in to a flat in a wizarding area in, let's say, France, Italy, Greece, or Germany. But he was against the idea of a Malfoy having a less meaningful position than a Minister of Magic employee. And the mere thought of a muggle job was absolutely not what he had in mind.

He certainly cared for the boy. What kind of father would he be if he wouldn't care for his offspring. But the notion of loving him was something he really couldn't bring himself to feel.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Good morning Father." Draco greeted the master of the house in a courteous way, getting a nod in return.

"Did you have a nice walk, Draco?"

"Yes sir. I did. Thank you for asking," There was a slight silence as Draco searched the shelves for something to read. "Anything new happened in the word?"

Lucious raised an eyebrow before his brain registered the question.

"No. Nothing new. It's all the same old, same old. The ministers want to have Dumbledore to be the Minister of Magic, though that Weasly boy seems to be the most eager one to take the post. Ambitious boy, that Percival," he gave a short laugh. "He had wits enough to break it with the family, and for what? Following an even battier Minister of Magic than what Albus Dumbledore is. Wouldn't see the clear evidences of the Dark Lords existence. Not until the wreckage of the ministry was complete…."

Draco glanced over his shoulder as his father fell silent. He remembered his fifth year at Hogwarts, and the time his father was in Azkaban and gave an involuntary shudder.

His father seemed to notice the slight movement, and went back to reading the paper.

Draco left the room, and walked in to the winter garden and began reading. It was one of the few muggle books in the manor, but it was a good one.

It wasn't about any form of magic.

He sat there for a few hours, eating the food the house elves came with by dinnertime.

When he read the last page, he felt the presence of someone behind him.

Turning around ever so slightly he saw his father standing by the door looking at him.

"Good afternoon father." He greeted. Lucious nodded his reply.

"What are you reading?"

"Call of the Wild, by Jack London." Draco held up the old copy his grandfather had bought ages ago. His father nodded once again and walked away.

As the footsteps of the older man had faded away, he let himself sag a bit. He wanted to ask his parents about the offer Hogwarts was giving the graduating students this year. But he doubted it was any idea of asking Lucious.

He somehow couldn't manage to use the word 'Father' in other way than in his charade, and even then it tasted a bit like vomit. Draco didn't nurture any warm emotions for his father.

Care yes, family ties, yes, but love? That was something he never could connect with the cruel patriarch of the family.

"Oh bugger it. It's worth a try…" the words came out in a mutter no matter if he wanted it or not. And the moment later he stood in the study, putting the book in its place before confronting the bull with the red flag he held in his mental hands…

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Draco stood in front of the desk and drew up all the courage he could muster.

"Father," he tried to refrain from spitting the word out. "I need to talk to you. It's rather urgent,"

Lucious wasn't listening fully, and concentrated on the papers in front of him in stead. Draco felt a glimmer of hope.

"Hogwarts has given the graduating students an offer for the future. They need the replies as soon as possible, and I was wondering whether I could join in on that arrangement?"

"Arrangement on what, exactly?" Draco felt the ice cold stare of Malfoy senior as his full attention was directed to the matter, which happened to be something school related, and thus very important in the eyes of Lucious Malfoy.

Damn, thought Draco.

"Professor Dumbledore and the ministry are arranging flats jobs for those of the graduates who would wish to join in on it…" Draco hesitated a bit on how to put things nicely. His father came to the point before him though.

"Would this… arrangement have something to do with living and working as a muggle?"

Honey coated as the words were, they didn't fool him. He had been through that voice before, and knew what to expect.

If he said yes, and that he wanted to live as a muggle for a year by the assistance of the school and ministry, he'd be beaten up by a furious father trying to get the "foolish ideas" out of his mind one way or the other...

If he said no, that it was optional, and that he'd preferred to live in the wizarding world, he'd get an acknowledging smile, a nod and a vague promise of him to think about it. 

But a soft voice echoed in the back of his mind, urging him on to do what he wants to.

'I advice you to be your self… to be true to who you are, and do as you like… within certain limits…'

He could even see the wink in those dark blue eyes, sprayed with streaks of gold. Taking a steadying breath, Draco opened his mouth and began to speak.

"Yes it would, father. I believe I have told you before of my desires to move away as soon as I graduate from Hogwarts. I would most of all like to have some experience from the real world, and how it works out. I frankly find it to be a bit embarrassing not knowing about some of the things muggles and muggle-born consider to be every day events…"

Draco kept speaking. The words came out in torrent, too strong for Lucious to stop, and too fast to be interrupted. But the flow had ended, and left room for a greater, more unstoppable force.

"You want what?" the last word was hissed out in cold fury. "How many times have I said that a Malfoy does not mingle with commoners, take their jobs, and even worse MUGGLES!!!" the older man had walked around the desk and stood towering above his, no longer so small son. But fear does something to people. No matter how big they are, when faced over a great danger, and try stand ground while terrified, they seem to shrink in terror.

Draco being nearly as high as his father felt like he was eleven again.

Then the beating began.

First it was with his fists, and then the silencing charm followed by a Cruacious.

"That ought to be enough to get your ideas straight," were the last words he heard as his oh so loving father stalked out of the house in fury.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next time the entire family was gathered, was during the Christmas dinner. Though the luxurious dining room bathed in the warm flickering light from the candles and fireplace, the three Malfoy members sat in cold silence.

Eating slowly, Draco fought an inner battle not to glare and scowl at his father, walk out of there in defiance or to stand up and yell him straight in his face. Whatever warmth he could have felt for his father had boiled away, and left a chill only the Winter Queen could love.

But he kept it all inside for the sake of his mother. She had asked him to cherish the spirit of the season, and since he didn't either want to end the Christmas in yet another rib-breaking row, so he swallowed the bile whenever he or his father spoke.

Half way through the main course, a house-elf creaked open the door, slid inside, and closed the small opening as quietly as possible. He was dressed in a slightly classier piece of cloth than what the rest of the elves were, and was in a way like a butler. Now he stood there with a letter on a silver tray, waiting for the master to call him forth.

"Yes, Kearny. What is it?" Lucious had barely looked at the trembling creature, and continued his meal. The elf walked over to the table hurriedly.

"Ehm…. Excuse me Sirs and Madam, but master Draco has gotten a letter from Hogwarts, sir," it hurried to place the silver tray next to Draco, and walked away in a fast pace to avoid punishment.

They never were fast enough for Lucious, who enjoyed their feeble sense of hope being crushed. The Cruacious hit the little creature, and it fell down to the marbled floor.

Draco winced at the sight of its arched trembling back, open mouth in a soundless scream, and the bulging pained eyes with its pearl like tears.

He had only seen it for a split second, but that was enough to in print the sight in his mind forever. He had quite a collection of it by now

"Honestly Lucious. The rest of us are trying to eat in here," Narcissa spat as she leaned back and crossed her arms, giving her husband a stare promising that he'd sleep on one of the many couches for a long time if that continued a second longer.

He noticed it, and let the creature go with some reluctance.

"You know I don't like blackmail, Narcissa," he spat and returned to the plate. He couldn't hide the sick glitter of pleasure in his eyes though…. Whenever someone in his vicinity was in pain. Preferably afflicted by him self, He enjoyed it to the fullest extent, much to his family's dismay.

"So what did the old crackpot want?" he asked Draco, who had forgotten about the letter he was clutching in his hands. He broke the seal, and unfolded the paper.

But before he had a chance to read other words than "Dear Mr. Malfoy", his father had snatched it from his hands and read it. Draco could see the looks of sheer horror, utter disgust, and pure hatred, swept across his face.

"The nerve of that…"Lucious was angry beyond understanding, and had great problems finding the proper insult. When he couldn't find any sufficient, he just tore the paper up with a frustrated "AAARGH!!!" and stormed out, leaving his family with shocked faces.

Draco went over to the torn letter that had begun rebuilding itself, like an inverted Howler, and formed a mouth.

"Sorry about that young Mr. Malfoy" came the voice of Dumbledore "but I expected your father to react like he did." The letter Dumbledore chuckled "He has never been too fond of me, my ideas, or the way I run the school. Now read your letter and get back to dinner. Have a merry Christmas." He said and turned to his mother "And to you too, Narcissa", before folding back into the letter.

Draco just stared at the letter on the floor. What was it on it that was enough to make his father stomp out of a room, and slam the doors like some child?

As if in slow motion, he bent down, picked it up and opened it.

It read:

Dear Mr. Malfoy

As a celebration to the final fall of Lord Voldemort, the staff and board of Hogwarts has along with the Ministry of Magic, decided to take up this experimental idea, and help those students willing, to work and live as muggles for a year.

The arrangement has gotten the name "Muggle Awareness", and is, as the name says, to increase the magical society's general understanding of those we share our world with. The ministry finds this to be a good idea to prevent future upcoming dark lords, and has bought a certain number of flats in different Muggle cities, all depending on where you would prefer to live.

 The course is free of choice and the graduates will then be living one year as muggles.

Every student gets to live in an accommodation in a greater muggle city, and will therefore be living in groups of four or five in each block of flats, all depending on how many flats there will be in each floor. Witches and wizards will inhabit only one floor per block of flats.

Whether you wish to share flats with your friends (maximum 3 per flat), or to have one of your own, you still need to work to earn your living.

Send back your response as soon as possible, and we will be happy to notify you of where you will live and work to earn your living.

Further information will be available in the future for those who are eager to join up.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Oh, and Lucious. Please don't rip the letter up as you have done before. You wouldn't want to ruin the boys future now do you…?

Draco began to smile. He had planned to keep quiet about the Arrangement during the official days of Christmas. Seemed like Lucious had thought the same, although his fathers perfect holiday was broken by a single letter. Which happened to mention the same thing Draco himself had been pestering about the last couple of days since he got home from Hogwarts.

Slowly the smile became a chuckle as he read the last couple of lines for the fourth time.

"Draco. What's the matter?" Narcissa had begun to worry about the letter. Was there some spell that made the reader act completely out of character? So it wasn't unusual for Lucious to give temper tantrums every now and then, but it was out of character for Draco to start laughing like that. Instead of explaining, he gave it to her to read.

As her eyes reached the last lines, Draco saw them swirl back to the message to her husband, and hide a smile behind a slender hand.

"Can I go then?" That was the first time he had asked his mother about the Arrangement. It was free of choice, of course, but as long as he lived under his fathers roof, he had to ask for permission.

"I will see what I can do. No promises, but I'll see what I can do," she handed him back the letter and walked out of the room, leaving him standing there alone before he too walked into the dark hallway.

He had reached the study. The door was open and gave the darkness a gash of glowing red, as the crackling fire inside the room illuminated the red rug. Glancing inside, he saw his father sitting in the gloom, while a couple of house elves dragged a third one away.