Title: An Old Nemesis

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. The Wizarding World and characters belong to J. K. Rowling. I own nothing but the plot and maybe a few OC's

"Lyin' isn't better than silence
Floatin', but I feel like I'm dyin'

Still, no matter where I go
At the end of every road
You were good to me
You were good to me, yeah
I know it's easier to run
After everything I've done
You were good to me
You were good to me"

(Jeremy Zucker, Chelsea Cutler, you were good to me)

DRACO:

Draco always envied clouds. They floated around the world, free from any sort of pressure. When he was younger, Draco loved laying in the gardens at Malfoy Manor, looking up at the passing clouds. No matter if it was raining or snowing, he enjoyed his split moments of freedom. The liberation from the looks of his father, and the concerned gazes of his mother. Draco only wanted to be free. He never got the chance. He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on his door. Draco rushed from his kitchen and opened his door. Standing outside was his long-time friend. Blaise Zabini shook the small snow flakes from his dark hair. He wore a black trench coat, and boots. His wore a pair of jeans on his legs. Over his shoulder was a bag, hitting the side of Blaise's leg when he walked. Draco gave a small smile. Just another thing he lost the freedom to do. The ability to give a real smile, a real laugh.

"You alright mate?" Blaise asked.

Draco nodded and gestured for him to enter. After Blaise removed his coat and boots, they sat in the small living room. It had a small black couch with a wooden coffee table in the middle. The floors were a light hardwood, but a soft white rug met Draco's bare feet. On the small table was a book. A fire place sat against the wall opposite the couch. A fire blazing in the hearth. An armchair, the same color as the couch was angled toward the open flames. Draco took a seat in the armchair, while Blaise seated himself on the couch.

It had been only eight years since the Second Wizarding War. Seven since Draco's time in Azkaban. Draco still hadn't recovered from any of it, his friends knew. They knew his conscious was fading. They knew he was close to losing it. That's why they had so many visits. His friends coming in more then twice a week to check on him, bring him groceries, as he refused to leave his house. The hadn't told anyone they knew where he was. Didn't tell them that Draco was living peacefully, alone in a house out in the countryside.

"I brought you some more food. Maria insisted that she'd bake you a pie." Blaise said with a little laugh.

Draco nodded. He never really spoke when anyone was visiting. He just sat and nodded along, sometimes shaking his head. He hadn't spoken a word since his time in Azkaban. His friends accepted that, they knew that he had his reasons for not speaking.

"The whole gang will be heading out to Diagon Alley to get presents," Blaise continued talking, "Do you want to join us?" Draco shook his head. No, he didn't want to go out. Questions would be asked. It was better if he stayed in his house. He had plenty to do. Plenty to read and with the new groceries, plenty to bake.

Baking was not something his younger self would see himself doing, but Draco found it quite calming. He enjoyed baking. It distracted him from all the thoughts and memories swirling in his head. Draco found he was quite good at it as well. He even gave some to his friends, it was the only thing he could do. Draco never used magic while he was baking. He found that the art of getting your hands dirty and it always tasted better. If only his father could see him now. Draco froze. His father. Right. Draco's father was still in Azkaban. Lucky for him, the Dementors were no guarding the wizard prison. Lucius had been sentenced to rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Despite knowing it wasn't his fault, gilt wove itself under Draco's unnaturally pale skin.

"Draco, you should come. You haven't left your house in a long time. Pansy and I are getting worried. Please just come this once." Blaise tried to make eyes contact with his old friend without success.

Draco thought for a moment. Even though he didn't want to admit it, Draco was getting slightly tired of his house. The trip could be beneficial, he'd be able to purchase new books, new parchment and ink. But the thought of going back into the Wizarding world caused Draco's anxiety to skyrocket. He knew he should leave, his small walks around his home didn't count. Draco needed to see other humans. After several moments of silence, Draco reluctantly nodded. He would go, he just hoped that no one would recognize him. Blaise mentally celebrated. Draco was going to leave the house for the first time in seven years. Pansy would be impressed.

"I'll go put the ingredients and pie in your kitchen. We're going tomorrow, I'll come pick you up." Blaise stood up and went into Draco's kitchen.

It was relatively small, but had lots of cupboards and counter space. The counter tops were a made of wood. The cupboards were black. The large fridge diagonal from the doorway was also black. Blaise opened the bag and placed them into their respected places. Draco may be slightly mad, but he still likes things organized. Blaise returned to the sitting room. Draco still sat, unmoved in the armchair, gazing into the flames from the fireplace. Blaise sat on the couch, watching his friend. He stayed there until Draco returned from wherever he was. When Draco did return, he turned his head to Blaise. His friend locked eyes with him.

"Maria will be wondering where I am." Blaise rose from the couch, breaking eyes contact. He gave a small smile and wave before he left the room. There was the shuffling of clothes and the soft thud of boots hitting the floor. The door creaked open then shut. Draco was left, once again, inside his warm home. He was left with his mind, his books, his feelings, and baking supplies. Draco let out a ragged sigh, the sound echoing throughout the still house.

It was the day where Draco would be going to Diagon Alley with Blaise. He dressed in a black jumper and pants., a green hat and gloves. He pulled on his black cloak with green embroidery and his black boots. Draco grabbed his small pouch of money and placed in into his pocket. He looked at himself in his mirror. A little bit of a dark theme, He thought, Oh well. I don't really want to be noticed too much. A knock at his door signaled Blaise's arrival. Draco took a deep breath and opened the door. There was Blaise, wearing almost the same thing as yesterday. His cheeks and nose red from the cold.

"Ready to go?" Blaise asked.

Draco nodded. He walked up to the door and looked out over the landscape. He squinted from the bright light bouncing off the white snow. Draco could remember a time when he was younger when he would leap into the snow, a big smile on his face. Now he looked at snow as though it was a barrier, a wall, in his way not letting him pass. Despite his protesting brain, Draco stepped out of his house for the first time in years. The cold biting him through his clothes, snowflakes falling on his eye lashes. Draco raised his head, looking up at the grey sky above them. He closed his eyes and let a small smile graze his lips. Blaise watched Draco. Happiness bubbled at the bottom of his stomach. When Draco smiled, Blaise almost cried. It was strange to see a smile on his friend's usual stoic, neutral face. Draco let out a content sigh.

"It is beautiful." Draco unused vocal cords vibrated. His voice coming out scratchy unlike its usual melodical tune that would exit his lips. Blaise tried to contain his excitement. Draco hadn't spoken ever since he came back from Azkaban. He would only sigh. This was a huge step towards Draco's recovery.

They arrived at The Leaky Cauldron, it was packed with witches and wizards. Draco pulled his hat down in an attempt to hide his face unsuccessfully. The pub fell silent, eyes travelled to the pale lad that walked beside Blaise. Hannah Abbott, the new innkeeper, caught sight of the pair. She gave a friendly smile to Blaise.

"Maria and Katie just went through." Abbott informed. She caught sight of his companion, "Draco Malfoy?" She asked. She peered closely at the man who was attempting once again to hide his face.

Blaise gave a subtle nod. Thanking her, he led Draco towards the entrance to Diagon Alley. He tapped the bricks with his wand. The bricks began shifting to form an archway until finally Diagon Alley was in view. Blaise walked into Flourish and Blotts Bookshop. Inside there where many bookshelves covered in hard cover and soft cover books. Maria and Katie Zabini were already waiting inside the shop, arms full of books. Maria was a beautiful, kind woman. With long brown hair and green eyes, tan skin a smile placed on her lips. Katie had darker skin, her father's dark hair and face shape and her mother's eyes. Maria gave her husband, Blaise, a kiss. She turned to Draco and her smile grew.

"Hello Draco. How are you doing?" Maria's voice was like silk.

Draco gave a shy smile and a nod. His only confirmation that he was doing well. But if you looked deeper into his eyes, you could see the haunted, scared, lost look of an unsure boy. Katie looked up at Draco her eyes filled with admiration. Draco gestured that he was going to look around. Blaise nodded and began talking to his wife and daughter. Draco wandered the many selves and levels of the bookshop. He pulled out some books he was interested in. Draco was looking at a novel called The Call of the Wild by Jack London. It was a Muggle book, but it piqued his interest.

"Malfoy?" a familiar voice spoke from behind him.

Draco froze. He knew who it was, they knew who he was. Slowly Draco turned, he came face to face with his old nemesis, Harry Potter.