Hyden's POV:

After a visit to my room to grab my ring, I walked beyond the entrance of Hogwarts, turned and apparated back to the field. Really, I just wanted to get back to Cygnus and spend the remaining part of the day there that Hermione, Ron, and Professor McGonagall hadn't taken from us. I had promised him I'd be back later, and I'm sure he was starting to think I wasn't going to arrive at all. I hurried quickly down the hole and through the trees. Though I only had a vague idea where the clearing was, I found it since the moon was shining brightly, casting a silver glow that other parts of the forest could not possibly have. I found Cygnus lying down, staring up at the sky through the hole in the ground, and I joined him.

After all that, I was never happier to be beside Cygnus as I was now. There was no need for words to be exchanged between us. I looked over to him, lying beside me looking up at the stars. The moonlight made his black hair shine like sunlight could not, and his blue eyes reflected the dark sky filled with little lights. I loved him like I had never loved anyone before, and I was sure that he felt the same. There was something about him that seemed to bring out the best in me, and in return provide me with a fill to an emptiness that I had always felt. He was everything; my best friend and love interest. The world seemed complete when he was there. Nothing mattered except for him. My past sank away, and my future shone ever so brightly. I had lost a lot of people before, but he would not be one of them. I would make sure of that.

I sat up and leaned over to place my lips on Cygnus's smooth ones. The inside of my head was heaven, and my heart seemed to shake the ground with its heavy pumping. His arms wrapped around my neck and his lips parted, inviting me in. I took the liberty to explore his mouth with my tongue, my hormones running wild. In this forest of bliss, all my love poured out. My hand traveled up under his shirt, feeling the smooth, soft skin there as a soft mew emerged from his mouth.

Almost instantly guilt hit me, a sinking stone in my stomach, too large to ignore. I knew where this was heading. I wanted to be able to reach a new stage in our relationship, and yet I still held onto a lie. The ring on my finger grew colder as I pulled my hand back out of his shirt. Reluctantly, I removed my lips from his as well and sat back.

"I'm sorry, Cygnus."

Cygnus sighed. "You're not going to say you're waiting until marriage, are you?"

"What? No. That's…that's not it at all."

"Oh, good. I was worried for a second. What is it, then?"

I looked to the grass, not sure if I was ready to tell him who I really was, but doing so anyway.

"I…I've been lying to you ever since we met."

I wanted everything from him, and I was willing to give him everything in return. He meant so much, and he deserved to know. The truth couldn't wait any longer.

"I'm not really who you think I am." I looked up and waited for his reaction.

He sat up, a confused look on his face. "What do you mean?"

"I've lied about who I am."

He continued to stare at me. "Look, I don't care about whatever you've told me about your past. I don't care if you lied about who you are. I don't even care if all the gold you have is from robbing people. I really don't care. What I care about is that you've been the same Hyden I've met from day one. The one who likes to ride brooms and jump in the lake and sing songs while spinning and waving your arms around wildly."

"Cygnus-"

"I care that you care. Not many people have actually taken the time to know me and give me the chance to prove that I'm something other than my past. But you have. And I…love you." He smiled.

I looked back down, not wanting to meet his face. "I love you, too. That's why I can't lie to you anymore." I lifted my hand and pulled the silver band with grey stone off my finger. The words reflected in the moonlight.

The one and the only. What a choice of words.

"I'm sorry I never told you before, but I'm Harry Potter."

Cygnus's POV:

That moment when the person you love is the person you hate because you loved them. What do you do then? I spent all day convincing myself that he wasn't good for me, only to find him disguised as the one I had just begun to love. I had picked out each individual reason why we could never be together, and I ripped my own heart out to start over again, just to find out that my new love was my old love.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the one who chose to keep Hermione and Ron as friends first year instead of me, who defeated the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher first year because he was actually the Dark Lord, who lost all the bones in his arm after a Quidditch match because of Lockhart, who was stupid enough to compete in the Triwizard Tournament and win so that the Dark Lord could come back to power, who sent my father to Azkaban fifth year and proved the existence of the Dark Lord to the Ministry, who cursed me in the bathroom when he found me crying because I almost sent the Cruciatus Curse at him sixth year, who appeared out of nowhere and saved all of Hogwarts after dying by coming back to life and even saved my life in the Room of Requirement, the one who saved me from going to Azkaban by defending me to the Wizengamot, who asked about my bruises as if he cared, who got me kicked out of my house and disowned by my family and caused me to go insane.

And then I look to him. His beautiful green eyes, ones that match my soul, look into my mind, and tell me it will all be alright. Love always wins for him. It is never even a choice. He lives for love, quite literally. He knows what love is, and what it feels like, and how to react around it. He's the great hero, the savior. What am I? The one and the only Draco Malfoy, last insane member of the Malfoy family, and the only one who doesn't know what he wants anymore. I am so much less than him, socially, physically, mentally, spiritually, and pretty much any other way possible.

I continued to stare at him, not sure of what to do. It was quite tempting to pull off my own ring and reveal myself, and then we could live happily ever after as I had always imagined. But would Harry be alright with that? I wasn't so sure. But surely, I believed Hyden would be able to live with the fact that I was Draco Malfoy, and if Harry was Hyden…surely…

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, a pull at my navel tugged me into blackness and dropped me in the Ministry. Harry was gone from my sight. Left behind in my world, where I so dearly wanted to return to.

"Draco, take off your ring. You have an emergency hearing. It's random, honestly, and completely unplanned. Sorry, I forgot to tell you, I made your ring a portkey last time I checked it. Honestly, I have so much that I meant to tell you, but things have just been hectic lately. I'm so sorry…" Hermione held up my hand and I pulled my ring off my finger as she led me to some doors.

"Through here. G-go…" she struggled to say, "sit in the chair."

I walked through the now open doors into the Wizengamot, to find a single chair in the center of the room. I could feel the eyes of the Ministry piercing into the side of my head as I made my way over to the lonely piece of furniture. Before I sat, I remembered what happens when one sits in it, and how much I had cried the last time I had placed my bottom into it. But this time, while there was nothing to lose, I had people to lose; Harry, the love of my life; Hermione, my best friend. I didn't even have a wand they could take away. Just freedom and people. What had I even done?

I sat down and the chains wrapped around my hands and legs. You'd think that after the war was over, they would get rid of the chains and go for a more docile approach, possibly even trusting the people on trial to stay seated in the chair without chains.

"Draco Malfoy," the Minister announced, his deep voice and rigid posture making him very intimidating, "You have been charged with having close association with The Dark Lord in his time of existence, as well as the murders of Albus Dumbledore, Charity Burbage, Severus Snape, Peter Pettigrew, and Colin Creevey." The Minister's right eye twitched, and I thought for sure he wanted to change his mind for a moment, but all at once, his composure came back.

"Do you admit to these crimes?"

I stared incredulous at the Minister. "You're joking right?" I looked around at all the faces staring back at me. "I was already tried about the association with the Dark Lord, and it's preposterous to think that I killed-" The Minister held up a hand, and so I silenced myself.

"We once thought that the Dark Lord had committed these crimes," he said, "but it has come to our attention, by an unnamable source, that it was, in fact, you who is responsible." Another twitch of his eye. "I…" He seemed to struggle with his words a moment. "The only punishment for these crimes is life in Azkaban."

My heart dropped.

"But…but I'm not responsible. I was put up to the task of killing Dumbledore, but I couldn't do it. It was Severus Snape who did it. And then the Dark Lord killed him. I wasn't anywhere near Colin Creevey, where in Merlin's name-"

"ENOUGH!" The Minister looked down at me. "You have one witness to defend you."

My insides shook.

One witness? That's it? One witness, who may or may not be able to save me from Azkaban? I could feel the memory of my last trial sink back in to reality. It had been the exact same last time, but I doubt it was Harry Potter coming to my rescue.

I looked to the doors and they opened and saw Hermione step through. I took a deep breath and let some of the tension fall. If anyone could get me out of this, it was Hermione.

"Minister," she started, looking directly into the Minister's eyes, "while I respect your authority and completely agree with everything you've done under it, I must say that this trial is preposterous. Aside from the fact that this is double jeopardy, you, personally, have heard recounts from survivors of the war and witnesses to deaths. How can you say that Draco committed these crimes? Harry Potter saw Severus Snape kill Dumbledore, and we both saw Severus Snape be murdered by Lord Voldemort's snake. Peter Pettigrew strangled himself; Harry saw that. Charity Burbage was murdered by Lord Voldemort and Colin Creevey by Death Eaters during the war. Draco had no association with any of these deaths, with the exception of Albus Dumbledore, which he said himself; he was told to do and could not."

"Ms. Granger, I am sorry to say that you have been misinformed." Another twitch. "The connection between these deaths and Draco is flawless, and I cannot say that your outdated information…" he hesitated and twitched again, "will help Draco any."

Hermione, beside me, narrowed her eyes. She scanned the Minister a moment, and then took a step closer, trying to get a better look it seemed. His twitching eyes were, indeed, odd. If I wasn't so scared for my life, I might have been questioning them as Hermione was. But of course, I was about to be sent to Azkaban.

"Draco Malfoy, we have come to a consensus," many of the members of the Wizengamot looked at each other and whispered, as they had not agreed on anything, or even had time to talk at all. "We have no choice under the circumstances but to-"

"Finite Incantatem!" Hermione had pulled her wand out and cast at the Minister.

At once, his twitching eyes became brighter and his rigid posture slackened. The Minister stood at once and slammed his hands on the wood before him, his plum robes swaying with his force.

"I have been under the imperious curse. I tried, but could not resist it completely." He looked to Hermione. "Thank you, Ms. Granger." He looked around at the startled members of the Wizengamot. "I clear Draco Malfoy of all charges, as he obviously did not commit any of the spoken charges."

I gave a huge sigh of relief.

"But Minister, who put you under the curse?" Hermione asked. The Minister took a moment to sit back down.

"I do not know." As I was about to ask if I may be freed from my chains, I heard a small whisper from behind me.

"Relashio." The chains freed me and a hand grabbed my throat from behind. "You're coming with me," it said, and I was pulled into the blackness of disapperation, unprepared for the crushing sensation.

I fell onto a cold, hard marble floor in a room dimly light by a lamp. The hand released me and I could hear its footsteps walk around me. Many times before, I had been in this same position, on this floor, in this room, and knew what was to await me.

"So, you thought you could just leave? Like it was that easy to just be free of me? You thought your little mudblood friend could save you from me? Of all people, Draco, you should know by now that you cannot escape your father."

A shiver ran up my spine. I half expected the Dark Lord to emerge from the blackness and add his own disappointed comment, as he always had when I was younger, right before throwing a Cruciatus Curse at me. I was stuck back in the dark times of the war once more, back when I had twice as much torture from two disappointed people. As if they were reappearing, I could feel the ghosts of bruises they had given me, the cuts and scars and blood that had appeared every single time I had visited this room against my will. The Throne Room was full of memories that haunted me.

"You are like your mother. During your first trial, she caught me just before I could curse the Wizengamot. All to tell me that you would most likely be freed of all charges. She was clueless, but held me up enough so that I could not change the results of your trial. I thought that some time in Azkaban would teach you to be better with your...choices in life, but your mother disagreed. And when the time came, she suffered the consequences of disagreeing with me."

I stopped breathing.

Consequences?

"What?"

What was he talking about? Was he beating her, too? I thought I was the only one…

"You didn't know?" My father scoffed. "Oh, when her trial came up, I made sure there weren't any distractions."

When her trial…

"You sent her to Azkaban?" My heart raced.

"Oh no, the Wizengamot did. I merely just chatted with some of the members, possibly placing an Imperious Curse on them to alter their decision."

I could feel the cold blooded fury rise in my body. All this time…I thought she was busy… I couldn't even comprehend my own words enough to think of the pain that would result from them.

"You bloody bastard! How could you send your own wife to Azkaban? You fucking-"

Pain, unlike anything else on earth, struck me like lightning, and I could only whimper and struggle on the floor. My father was so practiced at the spell, he didn't even need a wand to cast it, though he used it. He didn't speak when he cast it; he didn't need to. No matter how many times he hit me with the curse, one of the three unforgivables, the pain would never lessen.

He could slap, punch, bite, and kick me as many times as he wanted, but it would never be anything compared to this feeling, like my insides were set on fire while my brain was being sucked from my head to my nose through a straw. Every nerve in my whole body felt it; every blood vessel in my body felt like it would burst.

And then it all just stopped.

"Watch your tongue! No son of mine shall ever speak to me in that manner."

I could feel the blood dripping from my nose onto the floor. My body was so exhausted; I didn't dare move for fear of expending all of my energy.

"You know, when I was your age, I was already married. Your mother was much more loyal and obedient back then. But she has since served her purpose, and I no longer need her." My father put his face close to mine and whispered, "She will rot away in Azkaban. The insanity will eat her alive and she will come back into your arms as nothing but bones and flesh."

Tears slipped down my bloody face, stinging small cuts I had acquired from my father's curse.

"You did this to her, you know. If it hadn't been for you and your degrading choices," he stood up and let his voice slice through the room, "your mother would have remained by my side, supporting everything I did, offering me help where she could. If you had been the son this family deserves, never would I have laid a single hand on your mother. But you filthy traitor. You were a disgrace upon us. I beat you, hoping to expel such nonsense from you. Your dear mother wanted to stop my punishments, but I beat her as well. You both sicken me. If the Dark Lord had ever seen such filth-"

"B-but," I interrupted, "he's dead. And there's nothing you can do about that."

There was a moment of silence, a split second, before another curse hit me, scorching my insides and tearing every nerve from my body one at a time. The pressure behind my eyes grew great, as if my head would explode any second. Slowly, my brain unraveled itself, swelling to fill my entire skull. Millions upon millions of needles poked every inch of my body, delving painfully into the pores of my skin. Each layer of me was being ripped apart at the seams in the most painful way possible. I could see my blood everywhere, but could not tell where it was leaking from.

My father released the spell.

"You will learn to hold your tongue, boy. I will cut it out if I have to." My father stood in front of my face, and I could see his expensive dragon skin shoes just beside my face.

"You are so weak. I did not raise you this way." I could feel a liquid seeping into my lungs. It burned and thinned my breathing. I let out a cough, sending blood splattering all over my father's expensive shoes and dark robes.

"You insolent-" Another wave of pain struck, so fierce, like I was being roasted by the dead dragon that had made my father's shoes. Its claws dug into my arms and legs while my torso was charbroiled.

"How dare you-" I could hardly hear my father over my pain. It felt, almost, as if an entire new world was invading my senses, stealing everything from me; my sight, my hearing, and smell was gone, leaving me to taste my own blood and feel the pain coursing through my veins in its place. Even after the spell had left my body, my vision was blurred and shaky.

"Now, when you feel up to it, I want you to return to your room and stay there. Don't even try to escape this time, because I've made sure there isn't a single nook or cranny that you could wiggle through." The footsteps, now sounding more distant, turned and carried until they had exited the room, leaving me bleeding and helpless on the cold marble floor of the very room that once was the Dark Lord's throne room.

I closed my eyes and prayed for it all to be a nightmare.