Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 12

November 1st, 1998

Hermione sat on the edge of her bed with a photograph of her parents in her hands. She made sure she was quiet so she wouldn't wake up Ron, who was sleeping on the bed. It had been months since her parents' deaths, but it never got any easier thinking about them. It was close to sunrise and she knew she only had a little more than an hour until she had to get up to make breakfast. She took advantage of her time alone and snuggled up in her favorite chair in the library and read a few chapters of her favorite book. She then decided on getting herself dressed and ready for the day.

While making Ron's breakfast, she wondered what her life would have been like if she had listened to Harry and left Ron when she still had the chance. Maybe she would be back at Hogwarts finishing her final year. Or maybe she'd be working at the Ministry. She had even thought of traveling around the world for a year or two. Anything would have been better than the life she was living with Ron.

How had she ended up a broken witch? She was unable to leave her home or communicate with anybody besides Ron. She couldn't even remember the last time she had used magic. She missed the feeling of her wand in her hand. But she had ended up there, living with a man who she believed had completely lost his sanity.

The sound of the bathroom door slamming shut brought her out of her thoughts. She served him a plate knowing that he'd be joining her in the kitchen withing a few moments. Luckily for her, he usually left home immediately after eating. She heard his footsteps approaching the kitchen and took her usual seat across from his. She picked up a book to read while Ron ate. Her eyes were looking at the words on the page, but her mind was elsewhere, still wondering how her life ended up this way.

Draco was walking behind the guard in Azkaban. His eyes were finding it hard to adjust to the bright light in the hallway. As he reached the apparation point, he felt tears in his eyes and began to hyperventilate. The guard turned around and gave him a comforting smile.

"No need to worry, Mr. Malfoy. The world hasn't changed much in the few months you were here."

Draco just looked at him, unable to think of anything to answer back. The guard sighed and turned around to speak to another guard. Once they reached the apparation point, the guard turned back towards Draco and grabbed hold of his elbow. Draco felt the sudden pull of apparation and saw his surrounding change. The feeling of magic had been absent in his body for so long, that it caused him to be disoriented.

His mother was standing in front of him, a faint smile on her face, and his wand in her hand. Without hesitation, he took two long steps to her and engulfed her in a hug.

"I'm sorry, mum. I'm so sorry," he whispered to her, his voice rough. He took a step back and turned back to the guard. "Am I free to go, now?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. You're free."

"There will be ministry workers coming by to check up on you within the next hours, Draco," said Narcissa as she walked her son through her new home in Paris. Draco felt like locking himself up in his old bedroom, but he wouldn't leave his mother just yet. "They have a few things they need to discuss with you."

"Of course, mother." He left out all emotion from his words. Six months in Azkaban was nothing compared to what other had to face, but it wasn't easy for him.

"There's a few reporters that want to speak with you, of course. When should I tell them to come by?"

"Re- reporters, mother, really?" He asked in disbelief.

"Well, yes. We have to get ourselves back into society somehow."

"I won't be used as a pawn in your fuckin' dreams of a high class lifestyle!" He took a few steps back from his mother and looked her directly in her eyes. "I will not be the kind of Malfoy you wanted me to be." He turned away and began walking to a fireplace he had seen when he'd first gotten there. He wasted no time in flooing to the Malfoy Manor.

She's a bloody fool if she thinks I'm going to be playing her games like father did, he thought to himself as he stepped out of the fireplace. The familiar sight of his father's office comforted him. He knew exactly where his father kept the firewhiskey and did not hesitate to make his way to it.

He drank until he felt nothing but the firewhiskey burning his throat; his feelings were numbed by the alcohol. He was sitting in his father's chair behind a beautiful mahogany desk. His mother had not to remodeled the Manor and had decided on abandoning the place for good. He was barely letting his eyes close, ready to succumb to the sleepiness that the alcohol had brought when he heard someone flooing into his fireplace. He didn't bother opening his eyes, assuming that it was his mother.

"Malfoy?" he heard a familiar voice say.

Bloody hell, he thought, it can't be... He slowly opened his eyes and looked at his old school nemesis standing by the fireplace. "Potter?!" he asked incredulously. He shook his head and motioned to the chair across from him. Harry walked over and sat down.

"How many bottles have you had to drink, Malfoy?"

"A few." He paused, unsure of how to say what he had been wanting to say to the man in front of him since his trial. "Potter, I-"

"No. You don't have to thank me. I was just doing the right thing."

"Yes, but still, thank you." Draco held out his hand for Harry to shake, which he did. There was a short, yet awkward moment between the two.

"I've come on official ministry business, Malfoy. I'm supposed to help you adjust to freedom and find a job."

"Ah, well, I'm not sure I'd be wanted or accepted anywhere right now."

"I'm sure I can help you find something." More silence.

"I used to want to be an auror," whispered Draco.

"Really?"

"Why so surprised, Potter?"

"I don't know. I never thought of you as someone who wanted to help others, no offense."

"Sure, sure. It's true though. Most of my life I pictured myself as an auror."

"Hmm.." Harry was momentarily lost in thought.

"I must be drunk if i'm talking to you about this." He laughed.

Harry stood up and began walking back to the fireplace. "Cut down on the firewhiskey. I'll be back tomorrow, with some paperwork."

"Paperwork for what?" he asked curiously.

"Your application for Auror training, Malfoy," said Harry, grinning. Then, with the roar of the fireplace and emerald green flames, he was gone.

A/N:

Sorry for the delay.
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