THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO LET ME KNOW THE FORMATTING GLITCHED! IT SHOULD BE FIXED AND STAY FIXED FROM NOW ON!

Narcissa

As it was, the grounds of Black Manor smelled overwhelmingly like decomposing plants. Everything that once bloomed in beauty now stood bare and long since dead. The crisp breeze no longer carried pollen and bird's songs, now there was nothing to carry. No life left.

The gardens had once been my escape. Away from the suffocating expectations of my parents, away from Bella's manic episodes, away from the balls with too many suitors. Many tried to follow me here, but unless you knew your way, it was easy to become lost. Now, you could see clearly to every hiding place I once claimed, stripped bare and cast into the light for all to see.

I only allowed myself a moment of grief before I put the past back where it belonged. Now was different. Now was a chance for restoration and redemption. Now everything could be better than it once was. The beauty could be real.

Granger…Hermione sat not far off examining the various potions and spell books we would need. I was grateful for her help which turned out to be very meticulous and well thought out. These past weeks getting to know her slowly proved to be enlightening. There was much about her that Draco conveniently chose to leave out when he complained about her bookishness. Much about her experiences he either overlooked or did not know. I wouldn't hold it against him, we were all blinded before the war began anew. Even for a time at the beginning of it, before death tainted everything no matter whose side you fought for. I grieved silently for her. Having to go through all that she had and to lose her parents in the end. Now she had to be away from her friends and put her life on hold once more. She was very self-sacrificing and suffered largely in silence. She reminded me of another.

"Hermione, I wish to speak with you before we begin." She had been unusually quiet even for her since the incident. Only speaking when informing Harry about their friend's funeral. We were required to attend by obligation, but I would have extended an offer regardless.

"I believe you know what this is about. I want you to know that you did nothing wrong. You had no idea what was happening or if my sister was in danger. You did what you thought was right. If my sister was in a proper state of mind she would see that you only had her well-being in mind. However, as it is now, she's terrified that you know something about herself she wasn't ready to tell. So, a word of advice from a sister who has experienced these episodes countless times before, do not pry."

I waited for her response as they usually came after a brief period of contemplation, however this time she remained silent. She turned away from me and I could make out her heavy breathing pattern. On instinct, I reached out to her but just before I touched her I stopped, unsure if my comfort was wanted at all. After such a short period of time it was true I felt a maternal urge to protect the young woman. My heart ached for her as she had no other blood relatives left. I knew the Weasleys had adopted her as one of their own, but as it was now she was away from them with only Potter to confide in. It made me think of my Draco and what he would have gone through if at least one of his parents hadn't survived. If he'd been left alone. Bellatrix would always protect him I know, but she wouldn't be able to provide the emotional support he desperately needed. Even now, as he avoided me like the plague, I let him. He would come to me in his own time.

"I understand. Well, no I don't, but I won't pry. I panicked, I know. I just didn't want anything terrible to happen so soon, but I realize it was a mistake just rushing in." Her shoulders trembled with tension and anxious nerves. Putting aside my own worries and objections I placed what I hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder. Hoping to steady and calm her nerves. "I think I'm still running on autopilot. Over the last year, throughout all the fighting, we had to rely on instincts or we would die. I'm sure you know what I mean, being here with him and all. I heard screaming and suddenly I was back in the castle hearing friends die." She took another settling breath, clearly by the break in her voice she was trying desperately to hold back tears. "I'm sorry. I've not made things terribly easy for you as Harry has. I've seemed to find myself in the thick of just about every issue."

I chuckled lightly. How she could see herself as my biggest burden was beyond my comprehension. "You've nothing to apologize for I assure you. Given the circumstances, you I would hardly call a burden, Hermione. I've come to rather enjoy your company all the same. Should you find yourself wanting to discuss anything and find it hard to confide in anyone else, I would hope you confide in me. Especially in circumstances such as this."

She was still and quiet for a moment more before finally facing me. She regarded me with a guarded curiosity which happened more often as the days passed. I got the distinct impression of being sized up and my character measured. It had been years since I fell under such scrutiny and even longer since it made me uncomfortable.

"What is it, Hermione?"

She didn't falter, "Forgive me, I'm just trying to, well, I'm trying to not let the old memories I have of you cloud the version of you I'm getting to know now. I'm trying to leave the past where it belongs."

"Lest you bring the war along with you as well. I understand. Believe me, it isn't my intention to force any opinion or image of myself onto you. Like you, I would like to overcome the past. Now, I see that there are far more important things than pureblood pettiness." Like my dear Draco and reconciling with my sisters. Life was too frivolous to sequester ourselves from love and happiness because of stubborn ideologies. Something the war vividly branded into the minds of every wizarding man, woman, and child in Britain.

She nodded almost in acquiescence, that would do for now.

"Shall we start, then?"

Harry

My patience for Malfoy was wearing thin. I could handle him ignoring me, in fact, I preferred it. But when he was muttering about how his father would never stand for this or that I wanted to take a long walk off a short cliff. Some things never seemed to change, even through tragedy. I thought that with everything and after Mrs. Malfoy gave us the wonderfully enormous task of cleaning out all the old rooms he would be too busy to complain. Of course, I underestimated his ability to be utterly insufferable at all times.

"I can't understand why mother insists we clean out all the rooms. This is more space than we will ever need even with you two here to keep an eye on us and I highly doubt that we'll be hosting any balls anytime soon." Draco sniffed as he vanished away a stack of deteriorating boxes. Mrs. Malfoy told us to send any boxes, artifacts, or pictures we came across to the basement. She'd deal with them later, she said.

"Maybe she wants us to clear out all the pests which, clearly, are an issue." I replied as I watched yet another furry unidentified creature scurry away from where the boxes were just sitting. I stunned it and Malfoy vanished it out to the yard most likely.

"This place is a sty. Father would never stand for this." He grumbled.

"Yeah, well he's not here, is he? So, how about shutting up about him for once? For my sanity's sake." I snapped for what felt like the billionth time.

"Excuse me if my being upset inconveniences you. I know you're used to everyone singing your praises every five minutes."

"We're back to that then, are we? This isn't about me or whatever you think of me, this is about you moaning every five seconds about how unfair life is. We're all having a hard time, but you have your mother here to comfort you. I'm sorry your father was imprisoned, but you complaining about it won't free him!" This was an inevitability that I quickly became accustomed to while working with Malfoy. Everything always heated up to a boiling point and we would spill over.

"Oh, it must be so very hard to be the hero. Getting whatever you want, being treated like you shit gold bricks and all. Yes, very unfair and hard." He said.

I felt the familiar anger that seemed to be specifically reserved for Malfoy coming to the surface again. He was just so self-centered and never thought of what others might be going through. It was always like this. "Why do you always do that? No one ever has it as bad as you. At least your parents are still alive, your mother is here with you and you still complain because it isn't the perfect little dream you cooked up in your head? News flash, Malfoy, no one's dreams are coming true! My parents are dead and I was raised by people who hate me and made me sleep in a cupboard under the stairs! The people who I consider my family are having to bury a son! Lupin and Tonks left behind an orphan. We lost classmates. Forgive me if I'm not sympathetic enough about your father serving his time, but would you rather he were dead?"

He didn't say anything which infuriated me even more. He just stared. Almost like it didn't bother him at all. This was pointless he would never get it and he would always be an insufferable git.

"Look, I'm going to clean out a different room. Clearly, we can't share the same space."

I only went to the room across the hall and got a few hours of uninterrupted cleaning and silence. Oddly enough, it was almost a joy to be doing this. I hated it as a kid, hell I still hate why I was made to do it now, but this was something simple and familiar. Chores and cleaning were just normal parts of my life before I knew I was a wizard. Before everything changed and I had so much responsibility. Doing this didn't take all of my focus and energy and it didn't force me to make decisions that would have devastating consequences no matter what. It was just me and a pile of junk that needed to be organized and cleaned. Simple, although the wand was a drastic improvement over a broom and sponge.

I'd just fallen into a comfortable routine when I noticed Malfoy lurking near the door clearly debating on coming in or not. I sighed, "What do you want, Malfoy? Just come out with it already."

A look of defiant anger washed over his face for a moment and I realized that for all my griping about how he was acting, I wasn't doing much to build a bridge either.

"I wanted to, well, not apologize but-," he exhaled in exasperation, "You said you lived in a cupboard. You weren't serious, were you? Just trying to gain my sympathy and all."

I was caught off-guard that's for sure. I tucked my wand away for the moment. Thinking about that time in my life always caused my magic to react to my emotions and the results were never good. "Contrary to what you believe, I don't care about your sympathy or anyone else's for that matter." That was a bit harsh, so I took a breath to try again. "Sorry, that was a bit uncalled for and I'm trying to be nicer to you which works better if I don't say things that will make you angry. Works both ways by the way." He grimaced only slightly, "That's beside the point. Though. Yes, before I knew I was a wizard my aunt and uncle had me sleep in the cupboard."

He came closer looking more confused than I'd ever seen him, "But, you're a pureblood! They can't just force you to-"

"They were muggles and they hated wizards. They kept me from knowing what I was and what really happened to my parents until Hagrid had to hand deliver my Hogwarts letter to me."

Still confused, "It was spacious then?"

"No, Malfoy it was an ordinary, cramped, cupboard with spiders and one hanging light bulb. My cousin would wake me up by stomping up and down the stairs and making dust fall everywhere. It was shit, honestly. They treated me like shit. Like a house elf." I didn't want to give away my life story to Malfoy of all people, but it just kept coming out. I could only hope that he didn't go blabbing this to anyone who'd listen. Who would he even tell?

"I thought Rita Skeeter would have capitalized on a story like that. Makes you even more of a hero, not that you need it." Malfoy started cleaning away the room as he talked which, I guess, meant he was here to stay.

I sighed, "Because I didn't want the whole wizarding world to know. They already know more about me and my parents than I do. If they would have known that as well I would never be able to leave the house without everyone giving me that sad, pitying look. I don't want to be pitied and I don't want to be worshipped either. I don't want to be The Boy Who Lived, I just want to be normal."

He was silent for a few long moments as we cleaned and actually started to make good progress. Eventually, he stopped cleaning and started rolling his wand between his fingers. "I get that you know. The not wanting anyone's pity. Makes you feel weak and exposed, not to mention it's absolutely infuriating." He grew quiet again, "At the Manor when He was there, my friends and their families all looked at me that same way. At first, I was angry, the fact that they wouldn't think we had been bestowed the highest honor was an insult. 'They're envious.' I told myself. Until I realized I was terrified. Then I realized that they were scared for me too. I hated that worse. It made it so much harder to appear strong when your peers were afraid for your life." Another silence and I wasn't sure if I was supposed to respond or just stay quiet. I really didn't know what to say or even if he needed me to say anything if he wanted comfort or support.

"You said your family treated you like a house elf. How so?" He asked almost out of nowhere.

I stared at the back of his head for a moment at a complete loss for words. "Yeah, they uh, they would have me do the yard work, most of the cleaning, I'd cook a lot and do the dishes every night. It got better after Dumbledore came, but they never accepted me or saw me as anything other than a filthy wizard. I don't care anymore. They're horrible people who only care about how their perfect little family appears to their neighbors, the Weasley's took me in as one of their own."

"I know the funeral is coming soon."

I felt my throat constrict and my eyes burn at the reminder, "Fred was like a brother to me and I got him killed. Lupin was my only tie to my father after Sirius, the only one who truly knew him, and I got him killed. Tonks had so much going for her and she had Lupin and they had Teddy, and I got her killed."

I'd told Ron and Hermione this and they would always say it wasn't my fault and there was nothing I could do, but I still felt guilty, I never wanted anyone to fight for me and I never wanted anyone to die.

"I still don't know exactly how you ended it all. Mother doesn't talk about it and for all I know the Dark Lord believed you were dead. How did you fool him?" He was now sitting on a dusty desk and it was such a juxtaposition, his pristine outfit against a dingy old piece of furniture.

"I didn't really fool him, I was dead for a while. Had an…interesting encounter while in limbo and your mother lied to Voldemort after I told her you were safe in the castle. So, it was all your mother really. I just took a very stressful nap."

He looked at me and his brow was raised in surprise, he didn't comment on his mother, though. "I regret what happened in the Room of Requirement. It was a stupid fight and it cost me one of my best friends, too. I thought if I didn't fight, I would die one way or the other. It was all pointless. When mother took me away I felt sick, not because of some hex, but because I was relieved to be escaping with my life. I'd seen so many people dead I was actually relieved I wasn't one of them. I was disgusted with myself, still am."

I shrugged, "Don't think you could've killed me anyway." He sat bolt upright and was almost offended by the notion. "You couldn't kill Dumbledore, I don't think you can kill anyone. You don't want to."

He bowed his head in silent agreement before I continued, "Plus I'm a better duelist, so there's that."

He smiled genuinely for the first time I'd arrived, maybe even the first time in months. Not trademark Malfoy sneer or the forced one he put on with his mother, but an actual smile. I found myself liking this version of him much more than what I'd seen before and wouldn't mind seeing more of it. "Fuck off, Potter." This time it didn't get under my skin so much.

Bellatrix

I sat in the kitchen as Narcissa did something that looked utterly unsavory to the inside of a pheasant. She hadn't come and lectured me after the whole ordeal like I expected her to, so I'd taken to just lounging around whenever she was alone hoping that eventually, she wouldn't be able to contain herself anymore.

"Have you noticed that Draco has been in a better mood, smiling even? I assume whatever he can't express to me he can express to Mr. Potter. I've heard no snide remarks or childish rows since Hermione and I started the garden."

That I did not expect, "No, I must admit I hadn't noticed." But I did notice how comfortable she was getting with the mudblood. A topic for another time for sure.

She placed her hands firmly on the counter and looked me in my eyes. Finally, the lecture had arrived. "Well, had you noticed that your hair resembles that of a lion's mane? Or that it smells far too similar?"

Now that I wasn't expecting. "What are you on about, Cissy?"

"Your hygiene, Bella. You're not in Azkaban anymore and while the Dark Lord may have tolerated your unkempt appearance, I will not. Nor will I allow you to go out in public for the first time looking like a maniac." She had that motherly look in her eye that she usually reserved for

Draco, or her imbecilic husband.

"That almost sounds like a very odd threat."

"And I mean to follow through with it." She replied simply. "If you don't do something about the veritable mange you've acquired, I will."

I stared at her incredulously just to make sure this wasn't another nightmare. When I was sure that this was, in fact, reality I almost laughed. "Fine. I'll take regular baths and clean up like a nice little pup, Mother."

"I mean it out of love, dear." Was all she said before returning to her preparations.

I watched her face and there was no indication that she was withholding anything at all. Well, I'd like to get straight to it if she wouldn't. "So, you've nothing to say to me?"

"About what?" She asked, oblivious.

"About the mudblood, of course! And for throwing one of your books."

"Why? I take it since you've asked that you already know what you did was unnecessary. Do I really need to confirm that for you?"

I started pacing, "No, but…you've really nothing to say?"

She stopped fussing with the bird and looked at me honest, "She was just concerned. She's doing what's been asked of her she doesn't know of anything you've been through."

I stared in what I hope was discontent.

"Besides, I spoke with her. She won't be doing it again. Now, if you could control your temper and reactions everything would be going swimmingly."

"You think? If I could just behave then things will be just peachy, then? That simple?"

"You are an absolute brat. Do you know that?" She asked, not pleased.

"Brat is a bit soft don't you think?"

"Yes, but its exactly the word I would use for a child which is exactly what you are."

"I'm absolutely insulted, Cissy."

She turned to put her culinary project in the oven and didn't so much as look at me. "See? Brat."

Wow. So, it has been longer than what I planned. Finals really kicked my ass and then family drama for the holidays. It's been great. So, this chapter was so long and had two different connecting parts that I had to cut this into two separate chapters. Here's part one. Getting many different perspectives now let's see where this goes. Happy New Year everyone, let's make this year a great one!