AN: Yay, another chapter. :) I'm kind of on a roll right now. Thanks to everyone who reviewed in the last one! Some quick replies...

Shattered Truth - I can't believe that anyone caught that reference to Company. I'm a huge Broadway fan too... and I think you'll notice that a lot of my titles are either titles of songs or snippets of the lyrics... like the title itself. Anyway, I love Company... I just saw it a few weeks ago and it was amazing. Raul Esparza was stunning as Bobby! I hope he wins the Tony.

BlueIrishEyes - Thanks... I'm trying to keep my story as real as possible. I love fantastical settings, but I really hate when scenarios are completely ridiculous or characters are way too OOC.

tankbbg - Aiden is Ron's. Haha. I considered making that "mysterious" but truthfully, there's no question about it.

Thanks also to :) (ehhe). Here's the next chapter...! It's a tad longer than the previous ones, which I'm sure you wouldn't object to.

ETA: Lyrics to the song this chapter is named for. I chose that song for a reason, so I figured I should add in the lyrics.

Stand and Watch It Burn

IV. Elaborate Lives

Draco stood just outside the gates that shut off Malfoy Manor from the rest of the world. The gates were as old as the manor itself and charmed with the strongest security charms known to wizards. Only a Malfoy could open those gates or Apparate within the Malfoy estate... which is why Draco chose to Apparate just outside Malfoy Manor. He had wandered all day, avoiding his return to the place he once called home. But now that the sun had set, it was dark. Draco needed a place to stay, and although his years in Azkaban had hardened him, his unbroken pride would not allow him to sleep in the streets and Draco was certain no one would take him in. So, reluctantly, Draco returned to the manor. And now, he stood, lingering just outside the gates. Did he still have access, as a disowned, disgraced Malfoy? Yes, disowned…

o o o

The light disappeared, and darkness engulfed Draco as he entered the depths of Azkaban. Draco knew it would be a long time before he felt the warmth of light again, but he continued on, not even bothering to turn back for one last glance. What did he need of light? All it did was allow him to see a world that hated him and wanted nothing to do with him.

Draco trudged along mechanically, taking one robotic step after the other. The smell of Azkaban was undeniably pervasive. Rotting mold, fungus, old dirt, and dried blood. It smelled like death to Draco.

Leading the way were two guards – the new guards of Azkaban. Dementors had long been replaced. This changed when the guards abruptly stopped him. Draco had kept his head down, not bothering to look around him. Mildly annoyed, he finally glanced up and saw the guards pointing at the cell to the left. Draco turned to the left to see what the guards were pointing at.

"Draco." A voice, revoltingly familiar, said. Draco didn't have to look to know who the voice belonged to.

"Father." Draco sneered. He tried to continue walking, but before he could go, he could hear Lucius speak, his tone strangely beseeching.

"Please, guards," Lucius implored far too smoothly, "would you not let a father speak with his son? One last time?"

The two cloaked guards looked at each other and then nodded ever so slightly. They shoved Draco toward Lucius's cell and backed off ever so slightly, as if to give the two privacy. Draco looked around, back and forth between the guards and his father, wondering what was going on. He was confused. Why would his father want to speak with him?

"Father?"

"Don't call me that, you filthy scum," Lucius growled in undertones. He grabbed the steel bars separating him from Draco, leaning through as far as they would allow him. Draco stood, unmoving, staring Lucius straight in the eye. "I know all about you and the Mudblood and how you betrayed the Dark Lord. I'm not sure what disgusts me more. I heard they found you in bed with that revolting lowlife." Lucius's eyes were practically bulging out. He smiled maniacally. "But they got you in the end. Too bad they didn't kill you, you useless piece of rubbish. You have disgraced the Malfoy name." There was a long pause. Breathing heavily, Lucius finally spit out, "You are no longer a Malfoy. I have no son."

Draco remained silent, not speaking and not even blinking. Lucius burst out into crazy, uncontrollable laughter. At this, the guards came forward and grabbed Draco by the arms.

"Go," one gruffly ordered.

Lucius's laughter continued to pierce the air, and it had a paralyzing effect on Draco. He couldn't move.

"I have no son!" Lucius started pacing around his cell. "I have no son!" he repeated more loudly. His cries were now echoing through the stony halls.

They were still ringing in Draco's ears as the guards dragged him away.

o o o

Draco stared hard at the cement at his feet. A lump grew in his throat. Quickly, Draco switched his mind to other thoughts. What did he care what Fath – Lucius, Draco menacingly corrected himself, thought anyway? Lucius was stuck in Azkaban while Draco was free. Without friends or family, Draco mentally added bitterly.

Shaking his head, Draco tried to refocus on the matter at hand. Lucius had publicly disowned Draco. The Malfoy family code was old and rather archaic, but they were intact. Draco wasn't sure if he was still considered a Malfoy… which is why he Apparated just outside Malfoy Manor. He didn't fancy being splinched.

Draco ran a hand along the ornate metal bars. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Gently, he pushed on the gate.

It opened.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps because Lucius was in Azkaban, his disowning had had no significance.

Slowly, Draco made his way to the front door. He stood outside and stared up the height of the door.

"Oh, what the bloody hell," he mumbled, and he shoved the doors open. Two house elves in the front hallway stared blankly at him.

"Young master!" they both gasped.

"Hetty," he said, nodding to one. "Milly."

There was a lengthy, awkward pause. The two house elves kept glancing at each other and then at Draco, who stood just inside the doorway. His eyes wandered from the swirling staircases to the crystal chandeliers. Everything is still the same.

Finally, one of the house elves managed to gather up her courage and ask Draco a question. "Did sir want Milly to go tells Mistress that sir is returned?"

"Mother," Draco murmured. Of course, he thought. Where else would she be? This is still her home… "Yes, go tell Mother that I have arrived and that I will wait for her in the green drawing room."

Milly disappeared with a pop. Hetty looked nervously at Draco. "Is sir in needs of anything else?"

"No, Hetty, thank you." With a pop, Hetty too was gone.

Draco meandered through the halls of Malfoy Manor. It had been years since he was last here. The walls, the floors, and the furniture all looked so familiar and yet so foreign. Nothing had changed – at least nothing Draco could notice. Most everything looked the same. But Draco no longer had the feeling of belonging he once had. Even that, though, Draco noted, was gone a long time ago.

But as he neared the green drawing room, Draco started to feel slightly warmer inside. This part of the manor was the only part where he still felt a bit of affinity with. The green drawing room had been his mother's favourite. It was a smaller, old fashioned drawing room built perhaps a century ago. The walls were covered with silver-striped forest green wallpaper. The old chairs were made of black ash and covered with dark green brocade. Decorative molding adorned the walls. Like the rest of the floor was hardwood, but in the middle of the room was a huge, warmly green rug. He and his mother had spent in this room, drawing, reading old novels or just sitting by the fireplace, sharing tea.

So Draco was completely shocked to find it unkept and covered with a layer of dust. Evidently, his mother had not been in this room for a very long time.

"Draco?" a soft voice called out. Draco turned around and started at what he saw.

"Mother?" No. The woman standing in front of him could hardly be his mother. She was… too frail. Draco feared she would break if he dared to touch her. She had grown so thin. Her once luminous blonde hair was limp and wispy. Her fair face was ghostly pale… almost as if she, like Draco, had not seen the sun for the last three years.

"Draco…" Narcissa whispered softly, tears forming in her eyes. She placed her hands on his face, stroking his cheeks. "Draco… My son…" Tears fell silently down her face. Draco stood, watching awkwardly. Never had he seen his mother so openly emotional before. And truth be told, he was not entirely sure what the right thing to do in this situation was. The pain he felt in his own chest was unbearable. Finally, Draco jerked his hands up to meet his mother's, holding them protectively. Narcissa wept openly at this gesture. "My son, my son, my darling child!"

For a while, the two just stood there, neither moving, neither speaking. Draco broke the silence with three hushed words: "Mother, I'm home."

x x x

We all lead such elaborate lives
Wild ambitions in our sights
How an affair of the heart survives
Days apart and hurried nights
Seems quite unbelievable to me
I don't want to live like that
Seems quite unbelievable to me
I don't want to love like that
I just want our time to be
Slower and gentler, wiser, free

x x x

"Ron!"

"Yeah?" Ron answered, not looking up.

Hermione batted at Ron's arm until he finally tore his eyes away from his paperwork to see what Hermione was excitedly trying to shove in his face. "What?!"

"I finished." Hermione beamed, holding up the tiny green sweater. It was a simple knit, but the little sweater was simply adorable. Hermione had dedicated many hours that day to the sweater, determined to finish it before Aiden was too big for it. Her hands were sore and her fingers felt cramped, but when she looked at the tiny green sweater, she felt nothing but pride.

"Wow, Hermione!" Ron fingered the wooly green garment. "You're going to give my mum a run for her money." He leaned over and gave Hermione a quick kiss.

Hermione grinned. "Oh, it will be ages before I catch up with your mum." Ron returned her smile and turned back to his work. Hermione got up and set about cleaning the scraps of yarn and her knitting notions. "So how was your day?"

Ron seemed to tense slightly. "Same old," he said after a short pause.

"Yes, it must get so tiring, defending the wizarding world from evil," Hermione said in a teasing tone. She put her hands on Ron's shoulder and started to massage them. "Merlin, you're tense. Harry's working you ridiculously too hard. What on earth are you doing at work?"

"We have a lot of things going on," Ron said vaguely.

"You could tell me," Hermione pointed out.

"I could," Ron said thoughtfully, "but you know, it's kinda fun knowing things you don't." Hermione slapped the back of Ron's head. "Ow!" he cried out. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"You know what," Hermione retorted. She glanced over at the clock and noted the time. "It's getting late," she said. "I'm going to go check on Aiden and write in my diary for a bit. I'll see you in bed, okay?" Ron nodded and she kissed him on the forehead quickly before she set off.

x x x

We all live in extravagant times
Playing games we can't all win
Unintended emotional crimes
Take some out, take others in

x x x

Ron changed into his grey flannel pyjamas and crawled into bed next to Hermione, who was already lying down under the blankets. "Hey," he said softly. "Finish writing in your diary already?"

"Yeah." Hermione turned her head slightly, yawning. "You should try it, you know? I've kept one ever since I could write, and…"

"Yeah, yeah," Ron muttered. "We go through this at least twice a week. You've had a diary since you were three months old. It helped change you from smart to bloody brilliant. You read your old diaries and smile at the memories. And it always ends with you saying, 'Start a journal, Ronald,'" he said, pitching his voice an octave higher, mocking Hermione's voice. "'It will help you keep track of your life and keep you at peace with you and your mind. Blahy blah blah…'"

"Oh shut up, Ron," Hermione said.

"Do you ever write about me?" Ron gently placed an arm around Hermione.

"Now, do you really expect me to tell you that after you mocked me for keeping a diary?"

Ron pouted. "Pleeeease Hermione?"

"My diary is for my eyes only."

"I'm sorry! Really, I am!"

Hermione laughed. "Of course I wrote about you, you ninny." She turned so she could look in his eyes. "You're the love of my life. How could I not write about you?" Wrapping her arms around Ron's neck, she pulled him in for a deep kiss. Smiling, she pulled back and kissed him again, this time, gently on the forehead. Hermione turned back around and set her head down to sleep.

Hermione had almost drifted off when Ron meekly whispered, "Hermione?"

"What is it, Ron?"

"Erm… Can I read it?"

"What?!"

"You know," Ron said, "seeing as how I'm the love of your life and everything… can I read what you wrote?" Ron sounded very eager.

"No!" Hermione replied vehemently. "No one can read my diary!"

"But Her-mi-o-ne" – Ron was on the verge of whining now – "you just said…"

"I know what I said, Ronald," Hermione snapped. "The answer is still and always will be no. Now go to sleep."

Ron grumbled, turning away from Hermione. "I don't even know where you keep the bloody thing. I never even see you writing in it. You just talk about it. I bet it doesn't even exist."

Hermione smiled. "Oh, it exists all right," she said victoriously. "Good night Ron!" she chirped.

"'Night," was Ron's disgruntled reply.

Hermione closed her eyes. Maybe she was being childish by not letting Ron read her diary, but… she needed something to be hers and hers completely. Sometimes it felt like her diary was all she had left.

x x x

We all lead such elaborate lives
We don't know whose words are true
Strangers, lovers, husbands, wives
Hard to know who's loving who

x x x

The next morning was bright and cheery. It was a Saturday, meaning Ron did not have to leave for work early. As it was every Saturday, they all slept a little later than usual. At 7:32 precisely, Aiden would cry and Hermione would rise up to change and feed him. Then, until Ron finally got up around 9:30, Hermione would do chorest. They usually had plans for some sort of a family outing on Saturdays, like taking Aiden for a walk in the park, or visiting the Burrow or the Grangers. This particular Saturday, they were going to the park.

At 7:32, precisely, Hermione woke to the sounds of Aiden crying. She pushed the sheets away, and Ron made an unhappy noise at the sudden removal of the blankets. Still asleep, he yanked the blankets back toward him. Hermione smiled as she walked to Aiden's room.

After taking care of Aiden, Hermione busied herself with the laundry, sorting the clothes on her bed. For some reason, this week was particularly bad. This is what I get for slacking off last week, Hermione thought. The laundry was one of Hermione's least favorite chores, even now with magic. Magic, of course, made laundry so much easier. Hermione couldn't imagine what life would be like if she had to do it the Muggle way.

At 8:49, Hermione had finished with the laundry. There were, at the time, no other pressing chores to speak of. "Well now," Hermione said, clapping her hands together, "a little time for me, perhaps? What shall I do…?" She stopped to think for a while. "Oh, silly me," she laughed, and started to head for her bookshelf.

When she neared the bookshelf by the window, she heard a soft tapping. Hermione peered outside to see a small brown owl, banging its little beak against the glass. The Daily Prophet owl. It delivered at 9 o'clock on Saturdays. Perhaps the owls slept in too.

"Stuph tha inthernal thappin," Ron muttered into his pillow.

Hermione opened the window, removed the newspaper, and placed a few Knuts into the little bag on the owl's leg. "Thank you," she said. The owl hooted and flew off.

I guess I'll read this instead, Hermione thought, feeling slightly whimsical. She headed down to the kitchen. Tea and the paper sounded delightful.

Soon, Hermione was sitting at the kitchen table with the newspaper and a steaming cup of Earl Grey. Aiden sat in a high chair next to her.

"What to tackle first?" Hermione asked, looking at her little son. "International? Business? Entertainment?"

"Mm-bah!" Aiden said, banging the table on his high chair with his hands.

"Excellent choice," Hermione said. "Local news it is."

Hermione sifted through the pages, skimming the headlines. "Not much in the news today," Hermione reported to her son. She was just about to turn to the Sports section when a small article in the corner caught her eye.

Malfoy Free – Others to Follow?

This past week, Draco Malfoy, 21, had his life-sentence cut short and his conviction overturned when the Wizengamot ruled Malfoy innocent.

"This is a terrible day for the wizarding community," fumes one Trisha Brewer. "Clearly some sort of bribery or dirty work was in play here… how else could a sane person explain setting Malfoy free to create more havoc on innocent people?"

As our faithful readers will remember, Malfoy was first caught three years ago by three prominent members of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Conquered, Nymphadora Tonks, and Ronald Weasley. Malfoy was allegedly leading other Death Eaters in an attack against other members of the Order of the Phoenix.

There are rumors that perhaps Malfoy's conviction was unwarranted and that Malfoy had defected from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Attorney Alan Davids maintains this stance. "Draco was no longer a Death Eater," he states with certainty.

Whatever the real story is, the truth remains that one formerly convicted Death Eater has been set free. Justice, or a horrible omen of things to come? What will the release of Draco Malfoy mean for the rest of us? Only time will tell.

How on earth could they possibly think that Malfoy was innocent? Malfoy had never been innocent a day in his life. Now, Hermione was fuming. This Ministry simply couldn't do anything right. They thought that now with Voldemort gone, they could do whatever they bloody well pleased and get away with it.

Hermione reread the article again, and something started to bother her. Ron, Harry, and Tonks had been the ones to capture Malfoy? She remembered a few days ago when she asked about Malfoy… Ron had given her an unclear, offhand answer. Why didn't he mention he had helped arrest Malfoy? And why wasn't she there? And why couldn't she remember them discussing it? If they had caught Malfoy, surely she would have heard about it.

Suddenly, random images flashed in Hermione's mind. Harry and Malfoy, shaking hands. Malfoy and Ginny, bent over a cauldron. Malfoy sitting at the kitchen table in the Burrow, smiling and talking to Arthur Weasley. Images that reminded her eerily of the dream she had a few weeks before.

"'Mione?" Ron's voice was distant. "Are you ready to go to the park?"

Hermione picked up Aiden and hazily walked over to the closet where Ron was taking out Aiden's stroller. "Good morning, love," he said, giving her a quick peck on the lips. "Are you ready?"

"What?" Hermione snapped out of her trance.

Ron looked quizzically at Hermione. "I said, are you ready?"

"Oh," Hermione laughed. "Yeah, sure."

Ron stopped what he was doing. "Hermione, is something wrong?" he asked, concerned.

Hermione bit her lip, unsure of what to say. Maybe it was nothing, and her mind was going crazy… but it didn't seem so. The dream, the images… they seemed so real. And this article was rather disconcerting. Something was missing in her mind and she desperately needed to know what it was.

"I was thinking about the war," Hermione started, trying to sound unconcerned.

Ron visibly relaxed a bit - but only a little bit. "Oh?" he asked. "What about it?"

"Some of our amazing battles and arrests," Hermione said, smiling. "Like that fight against the Carrows."

"Yeah, slimy buggers they are," Ron said with disgust. "One tried to attack you from behind. Dirty, foul bastard."

"The way you dodged that blasting charm was amazing," Hermione mused. "I never knew you could be so quick on your feet."

"Well, if you're about to be blown to bits, you'd be quick on your feet too."

"And we arrested them and sent them off to Azkaban," Hermione finished.

Ron nodded. "As they deserved."

"And how you and Harry caught Malfoy and his cronies was brill as well."

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked slowly.

"Didn't you tell me…?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Hermione," Ron laughed. He coughed and cleared his throat. "Oh yes," he said quickly, "I remember now. Harry and Lupin found him in Knockturn Alley and arrested him there. Made short work of too, from what I remember." Ron straightened up a bit, his ears red and his face flushed. "Let's not talk about such depressing things on such a lovely day," he said a little too brightly. "Come," he said, taking Aiden from Hermione and placing him into the stroller, "let's take a stroll around the park and come back for a good breakfast." Ron started heading out the door. Hermione hadn't moved an inch. "Hermione? Love? Are you coming?"

Hermione swallowed. "Yeah… yeah," Hermione mumbled. "You're right, Ron." She smiled cheerfully at him and he, seemed relieved and returned the smile.

"Let's go," Ron said, gesturing for her to follow him.

"Yeah, I'm coming," Hermione said. "Just let me grab my jacket. I left it in the kitchen."

"All right," Ron said. "I'll wait for you here."

Hermione ran to the kitchen and, when she was sure Ron couldn't see, collapsed into a chair. Ron had always been a terrible liar. He never could do it, even if his life was on the line. Hermione took a glance at The Daily Prophet once more. Decisively, she shoved it under a pile of bills and mail that she was sure Ron wouldn't touch. Hermione still had no idea what happened, but she was certain of one thing: Ron was lying to her.

AN: Oh dear. Okay... Draco's home and has a tearful reunion with his mum. Hermione's finally realised that Ron is lying to her. There are so many questions up in the air right now. What's Draco going to do? What's Hermione going to do?

Review and find out faster:) Thanks!