Hello everyone, this has mentions of PTSD and torture so if you're triggered by this don't read. Thank you to TheOnlyCeeCeeJ for betaing this. I do not own any rights to Harry Potter; they belong to J.K. Rowling.

"No, please stop… please… no more… no!" Draco screamed in his sleep, tossing and turning. The sheets beneath his writhing body were no doubt soaked with sweat as he wrestled with another nightmare.

Astoria woke up to her husband's screams; it was the second one this week, they'd started when he'd got yet another letter from Lucius which he hadn't opened but instead thrown it in the fireplace, watching as it crumpled down into ash. It broke her heart having to bear witness to him like this. She was there for him, she always would be, she loved him even when the scars he had were more than just skin deep.

Draco bolted upright in bed, his chest coated with perspiration. He shivered, looking around almost distantly, as though he didn't know where he was until his eyes met Astoria's. She was sat up against the headboard, a pillow cushioning her head with her arms open for him.

"I'm sorry, Tori, Merlin, I'm so sorry," he said, going into her arms.

She stroked his blond hair softly, doing her best to soothe him while he stroked her growing bump. "Don't you apologise, Draco, this is not your fault. So, don't you dare think it is."

He sighed. "Why are you still with me?" he asked, not being able to look her in the eyes when he said it. He couldn't face the sincerity that would be in those eyes that he loved.

She cupped his face so that he had no choice but to look into her chocolate brown eyes. "I'm here with you because you're the man I love, the man I want to raise this baby with and who I want to grow old with, Draco, that's why."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"It's alright, love."

"I love you too, Tori. I just… I want to be a good father but I can't be if I'm like this, it's not fair on you or the baby. I don't want our child to be woken up because of me screaming. I need help, I know I do."

Astoria breathed a sigh of relief at his words, he wanted help. She'd suggested the therapy Hermione ran at St Mungos for those with PTSD a few months ago, but he'd declined. If he saw Hermione, it might set him off so she'd dropped the subject and just been there for him on the nights when the nightmare came like demons riding through the dark to torture Draco all over again. It was the fact that he'd come to accept that he needed help and said so, that made her think he could still fight this, that he could heal. It was, she supposed, an adventure but one that was difficult with obstacles wherever he looked, but ones that in time she thought he'd be able to overcome.

The PTSD had never been his fault; it was simply a nasty consequence from the torture he had suffered before the war, all because he had refused to take that mark. As she looked at him now, she didn't have to glance down in the early morning light to know where the scars were on his chest. They were a part of him, but they didn't define who he was.

"Do you want me to arrange a meeting with Hermione for this week?"

Draco nodded. "Please, Tori. But not today, I need to go somewhere."

"Where?"

"Azkaban."

She didn't have to ask why, she knew he was going to see Lucius, someone who had tortured him and who he hadn't seen since before and during the war. Draco hadn't been present at the older Malfoy's trial; he hadn't wanted to relive the trauma that seeing his father would bring up. The fact that he wanted to see him now was a step towards Draco being able to heal mentally, but also for him to face a fear she knew he had about becoming like him.

"I'll come with you," she said, not wanting him to face this alone, she wanted to be there for him.

He shook his head and caressed her cheek, a softness filling his grey eyes. "Thank you for offering but no, I need to face this demon alone. I'll be straight home after, I promise. Besides, I don't want you or our little one anywhere near him."

She kissed him then, filling it with all the love she felt for him. He kissed her back with the same passion, smiling when they broke for air, just looking into her eyes. They stayed like that for a while until it was time to get up and get ready to go and face one of his very real demons.

Once Draco had showered and dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, he took a breath and looked at himself in the mirror. He felt his hands begin to shake but clenched them into fists before releasing, taking another breath to calm himself. He wasn't going to unravel, not now or when he saw Lucius.

He's just one head of Cerberus or any other monster. Once the head comes off, the monster is dead, he told himself. This was a personal journey for him and this part he had to do alone. When it came to Hermione, that was the part when he'd need Astoria by his side to support him, which he knew she would.

Draco kissed Astoria goodbye before he left and apparated to the prison that was situated on a barren island in the middle of the North Sea. Waves crashed against the rocks, spray seeping over onto the walkway as he walked to the entrance of Azkaban, or he supposed in a sense, to the monster's lair.

Since the end of the Second Wizarding War, and under Minister Shacklebolt's decree, the dementors no longer guarded Azkaban. Instead, new, tighter security measures had been put in place which included Aurors patrolling the foreboding prison, because of this there had been no breakouts.

He knocked on the large door and waited a few minutes until it was opened by a stern looking, stout auror who led him to the office window. On the other side of the glass partition sat a female witch who couldn't have been older than twenty.

"Name, please."

"Draco Malfoy."

"What is the purpose of your visit today, Mr Malfoy?"

"To see Lucius Malfoy."

When he said Lucius' name, the witch looked at him and then placed a simple black tray under the partition. "Place your wand in the tray and I'll be back in a moment."

He did as was asked and waited. Another door opened and Harry Potter came into the room, dressed in his Head Auror robes.

"Well, this is a surprise, Draco, I wasn't expecting you to ever step foot in here," Harry said, shaking the blond's hand.

"I had to, Harry, can I see him?" Draco asked.

Ever since he'd joined the light side in his sixth year, he and Harry had slowly gone from being civil with each other to eventual friends.

"Yes, follow me," Harry said, leading Draco through the door he'd come through and down a long winding corridor, light coming from the wall sconces making the place bright, at least at this level.

Harry opened a door to one of the visiting rooms, then cast a patronus sending a message to an auror named Weaver to bring inmate B1350 out of his cell and down here.

Draco looked around the room; the walls were painted a light blue, but were bare of any pictures. In the middle of the room was a metal table with four chairs, two on either side and it was warm, which he was glad of.

"So, do you intend on making this a regular thing?"

Draco shook his head. "No, only today."

"I understand. You know he sends you a letter every week, always asking if he's had a response."

"Everytime I get a letter, it goes straight into the fire unopened. I need to face this demon, then I can move on, or at least try to for mine and my family's sake."

Harry nodded. "I heard from Hermione that Astoria was pregnant, congratulations, Draco," he said, patting Draco on the shoulder. "Make yourself comfortable, mate, he shouldn't be much longer. Oh, if you need anything I'll be out here with Weaver."

"Thanks, Harry," Draco said before taking a seat and waiting.

When Lucius was eventually brought to the room, he was stunned to find his son sat there.

"You came."

Draco glanced at his father, dressed in faded grey prison robes, his blond hair limp down to his shoulders; he was a far cry from the man he'd once known. He met Lucius' grey eyes and nodded. "A short visit, nothing more."

"I see." Lucius turned to Auror Weaver, motioning to the shackles around his hands.

Draco noticed and sighed, looking at the man named Weaver. "You might as well release him, he won't do anything. You and Harry will be outside, besides he's going to die in here anyway."

Weaver turned to his boss and Harry nodded his assent. Once the cuffs were off and the door shut, Lucius sat opposite his son, his hands folded on the table.

"Did you get my letters?"

"I burnt every single one – unopened."

"Then why are you here, Draco? Is it to see your father in a sorry state, is that it?" Lucius asked, motioning to his prison garb which did him no favours.

"You are not my father! You lost that fucking right the day you let me be tortured, Lucius. Letting your crazed sister-in-law have her way with me with her knife."

Standing up, Draco opened his shirt, baring his scarred chest. "This is because of you, you selfish bastard! Look, go on," Draco seethed. "What you caused to happen to your own son, who you later tortured yourself remember? And all it was over was because I wouldn't take your dirty cultist mark."

"All you had to do was say yes, boy. It was simple – take the mark. You brought it on yourself," Lucius said, looking down at his nails, as if there was some dirt under one.

"What did you just say?"

Lucius met his gaze as he said clearly, "You brought it on yourself, Draco."

Draco pulled Lucius up from his chair and slammed him against the wall, raising his arm back to punch Lucius, but the thought of Astoria stopped him.

He stepped back and buttoned up his shirt quickly and efficiently.

"Go on, do it," Lucius said, "punch me."

Draco ignored the older man and straightened his shirt and then his collar, shaking his head. "You aren't worth it, Lucius. I came here to face a part of my past so that I can heal. All I see before me is a washed up old death eater that will forever be alone until the day he dies."

Draco walked to the door and knocked. "You can come in and get him, I'm finished."

"Where are you going, boy?" Lucius asked.

"I'm going home to my pregnant wife. I've been afraid that I'll be like you were as a father, but then you weren't a father at all, you just got my mother pregnant. The man she's married to now, Severus, he's the man I call Father, the man who showed unconditional love to a boy that wasn't his by blood. The man who carried me from the manor all those years ago, that's my father! I should have never been afraid because I know I'll be a good father and do you know why? Because I already love my child and I will love and protect them because that's what fathers do," Draco said before leaving the room and walking down the corridor, with Harry in step beside him. He didn't turn back to see Lucius taken back to his cell, as far as he was concerned, he could rot. He'd faced one demon, the monster that he'd finally slayed which was now only a figment of his past, nothing more. Draco felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that this was the start to him healing.

When he'd retrieved his wand from the office and said goodbye to Harry, he left Azkaban to go home to Astoria.

The moment he walked through the door and saw her, he took her in his arms just holding her.

"Oh, Draco, what happened? Are you alright? I knew I should have gone with you," she said, her voice filled with worry and concern.

He pulled back to look into her chocolate brown eyes and smiled. "I'm fine, Tori, he can't hurt me anymore. I love you and our baby so much."

"We love you too, Draco," she replied, seeing the old Draco start to return, she smiled and kissed him softly.

That night, Draco slept soundly with Astoria in his arms. He'd vanquished one monster on his journey, though he still had a way to go before he healed completely. But tonight was the beginning that he'd needed for a long time.

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I'll see you all soon,

S L Blake x