Draco stared at his cauldron, glowered at it more like, as he cursed Potter six ways to Sunday. More than that he cursed himself though, he hadn't even noticed that he had made Potter, a newly bitten werewolf and powerful wizard, so angry that he practically destroyed half his lab. He wanted to blame Potter for the damage, but Severus had always taught him that his potions were his responsibility and if he couldn't keep someone else from sabotaging them then that was his own fault and he deserved the consequences.

So it was with a heavy sigh that he got to work cleaning up his lab and examining each potion. In the end every single potion except a small batch of dreamless sleep potion was either contaminated or spilled. It took him the entire night to get his lab back into a fit shape and when he finally had pulled himself upstairs to his kitchen, it was with another heavy sigh that he began to make himself dinner. He had managed to retain enough of his own accounts at Gringotts to be able to afford to get his potion's masters license and be able to pay off his mortgage, his potions though were what paid for everything else, from ingredients for future potions to the food he rarely touched each night.

Of course he had to go to small private stores and apothecaries to sell his potions because no bigger ones would risk someone finding out they had a ex-death eater supplying them with their potions. Every now and again the bigger companies had to order from him, due to the fact he was the best potions master in all of England and most masters in other parts of the world refused to brew certain potions that called for more dangerous ingredients, but it was rare and it took so much effort to get even the return value on some of his potions.

Every now and then his mother was able to sneak him new robes or some of his favorite chocolates by mail, but they were a rarity, as the ministry watched him like a hawk and normally intercepted any correspondence he had. If the Malfoy name was worth even a small fraction of what it once had, he could have forced the ministry to at the very least return his belonging but he had no such luck, even if he did he just didn't really have the energy or the will to fight for his own rights any more. He had at first, when the ministry had first come to him, telling him that Azkaban was overcrowded and they were thinking about attempting probation for a few of the younger assailants.

Except at first he had foolishly agreed to adhere to any regulations as long as it got him out of that hell hole, he had just been so exhausted and so hungry, he hadn't even skimmed over the papers he had signed with his own blood. It wasn't until later, after he had finally earned his first meal that he began to question their actions, or try to search for a way to be rid of their constant surveillance and their irrational regulations. The magical monitor they had put through the bone in his wrist and calf gave the ministry every bit of information they could want on him, but still they finned him for this and that, and it seemed like every week they were coming out with new restrictions until last month he had been informed that he was not to even step foot outside of his residence nor was he allowed to use his wand. He hoped terribly that they did not take his potions from him, but yesterday, before he had started working on Potter's bloody wolfsbane he had gotten a notice that the ministry wanted to come and inspect his place of residence.

He had just sat down and taken a few bights of his stale sandwich when he heard the ding that indicated he had a guest via the fireplace. Draco frowned and got up to head towards the entrance, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the aurora who had entered his main sitting room, with furniture he had transfigured to look like the antiques that had belonged to his family for centuries before the ministry had taken his replacement wand.

Seamus Finnigan had never been someone Draco would consider a kind soul, sure he had often done kind things for his fellow Gryffindors, but Draco had heard rumors recently of the cruelty he showed to the few surviving Slytherin of their year. Finnigan face went from blank to that of disgust the second his gaze fell on Draco. Draco took a deep breath and asked calmly, "What can I do for you Finnigan?"

Draco somehow managed to keep his face blank and neutral even when Finnigan pulled his wand and pointed it at Draco. After a moment where Finnigan seemed to be considering Draco's response he spoke, "I'm here on behalf of the ministry to inspect your place of residence for anything suspicious, if you cooperate than this will go by quickly and virtually painless for the both of us."

Draco held his arms out and said, "Of course, inspect away, I'll be in the kitchen finishing my dinner."

Finnigan' lip curled and he said, "No, you will stay in my line of sight at all times, if you attempt to leave the room then I will be forced to assume you are attempting to hide something."

Draco crossed his arms and said with a bit of frustration, "Very well, am I allowed to sit?"

Finnigan snapped, "Are you mouthing off?"

Draco bit back a sigh and said, "Of course not Finnigan, I am no fool."

Finnigan just seemed to get more angry as he basically spat, "I think you are, I think your mouthing off, I think I'll take that as you not cooperating, I'm sure the ministry will be happy to take away the few privileges you've been allowed."

Draco tried to keep his anger in check as he said, "I am not mouthing off Seamus."

Suddenly Finnigan was across the room and Draco gasped and gripped at the hands on his throat, as Seamus snarled, "How dare you say my name you filthy Slytherin, you should be rotting in a shallow grave not living in a house that you didn't earn, eating food that could be feeding the orphans your kind made!"

Finnigan steadily tightened his grip, until by the time he finished yelling Draco's entire world began to go dark, and he briefly lost consciousness. Draco came to with a groan when he felt a sharp pain in his gut and by the time he blinked past a surprising ach in his head, the figure attacked once more, and Draco was pretty sure it was a boot that slammed into his stomach. Draco retched with the force and in the dim lighting he saw what looked like the few bights of food he had eaten, stomach acid, and blood. Still pain just continued to blossom throughout his body, and he distantly heard a male voice screaming and cursing but he was lost in the pain and the coldness that was once again settling in his chest. Draco found himself close to losing consciousness again, when suddenly a chime rang and then a female voice was screaming, "Seamus, what the bloody hell do you think you are doing! Stop right now!"

Draco blinked and somehow managed to open his right eye enough to see the two figures standing practically on top of him. Finnigan was standing over him, with blood on his clenched knuckles and Granger was standing just an arms' length away from Finnigan with her wand drawn. Finnigan took a step away from Draco, who found himself coughing again, and this time a lot more blood and stomach acid came up. Granger glanced down at Draco briefly before asking, "What were you even doing over here Seamus?"

Finnigan stood a bit straighter and said, "The ministry has decreed that every probation offender needed to have their places of residence more regularly searched, Malfoy was resisting."

Granger put one arm on her hip and said, "He didn't look like he was resisting in the slightest when I arrived, in fact he looked unconscious, so I am certain you won't mind me fire-calling Harry to get his opinion on the matter, as he is head aurora."

Finnigan seemed to deflate a bit but he said, "I'm sure Harry will understand."

Granger didn't respond verbally she simply kept her wand trained on Finnigan as she moved to the fire-place and threw some flow powder into the fire and called out, "Head Aurora's office, Ministry of Magic."

A moment later Potter's head appeared in the flame and he asked, "Hermione? What's going on?"

He sounded worried, and Draco felt himself cough up more acid and blood, he felt himself barely lean to the side fast enough to keep from choking. Granger winced at Harry's concerned face and asked, "Would you and Ron mind coming over right away, we have a bit of a situation?"

Draco tried to focus on the two figures, but the world seemed to be spinning around him and every few seconds he kept coughing up more and more blood, and with each new bought it seemed harder and harder for him to breath. By the time the fire place dinged again Draco had completely lost the conversation and was barely holding onto consciousness. He vaguely heard a familiar voice shouting before his arms finally gave out and he lost consciousness.

AN: Don't hate me!

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