Prologue: Catch and Release
One thousand, eight hundred and twenty-five days had passed since he had been surrendered to Azkaban Island.
Draco Malfoy knew that the one thousandth, eight hundred and twenty-sixth day had come when the Warden of Azkaban Island had come to his cell to inform him that his prison sentence was complete.
He would be released from custody that night at exactly midnight.
Draco accepted the message from the warden without emotion and waited until he was alone again to betray the only sign of relief that he would allow himself while still held captive within the prison walls.
His hands trembled slightly as he covered his face, breathing in deeply and steadily to keep himself in control.
He had done it.
Draco had been counting each day faithfully since being detained and he had not missed a single day of his count. There were times that he had doubted if he'd kept count properly, but Warden was proof that he had.
This was especially significant because there was no sense of time on Azkaban Island.
The hours, the days, the months, the years did not exist on the magical island. There was never any sunlight nor moonlight, nothing of the sky except an unbreakable cloak of gray clouds that never parted, never thinned, never lessened. The inability to mark the passing of time was by design, intentionally created to be a deeper layer of punishment for those who had found themselves tried and convicted of crimes worthy of being jailed.
Lesser minds had already succumbed to the hopelessness of timelessness, going as assuredly mad as if Dementors still ruled supreme upon the isolated wizard's prisoner.
Draco had not.
He had no reason to.
His mother had seen to it that he would have his freedom, his sanity, and his life, once he had finished serving his time in Azkaban. His only responsibility was to keep his mind sound, his spirit unbroken, and be the model prisoner he was required and expected to be.
Draco was proud that he would soon be able to tell his mother that he had kept his promises to her without faltering once.
It was the least that he could do after she had taken on the full might of an unforgiving Ministry for Magic to ensure that neither him nor his father would be made an example of by the Shacklebolt Administration's determination to scorch the earth of any and all that Lord Voldemort had touched or had influence over.
Narcissa Malfoy had been clever, precise, and intentional in calling upon the Life Debt owed to her by Potter and using it to save her husband and son.
She had well known that there was nothing that anyone could to do prevent him from using the Life Debt for this purpose, but the Ministry had not been willing to accept this. A special committee had been formed specifically to research and dissect the crisis caused by Narcissa calling for her debt to be used to pardon her husband and son as best she could achieve. As the War Tribunals had begun in the summer of 1998 and Death Eaters, their allies, and the network of insidious co-conspirators had started to be brought to justice, the trials of Lucius and Draco Malfoy ad been delayed indefinitely.
The Ministry had wanted to be absolutely, unfailingly sure that there were no other options before honoring what Narcissa was commanding for her family.
Months had passed.
There was little doubt that the quandary of the Malfoys had fueled the viciousness of the convictions brought down for anyone who had borne the Dark Mark.
Death Eaters were the first people to be executed by being pushed through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries in a century. Those who escaped execution were imprisoned for life without the possibility of parole. The few that remained after execution or imprisonment were stripped of their right to own wands for at least a decade. Everyone who had been convicted of war crimes saw all of their worldly possessions within the jurisdiction of Wizarding Britain seized by the Ministry for Magic as restitution for their crimes. Centuries-old vaults of gold, manor houses, businesses, family heirlooms and treasures – whatever Lord Voldemort had not taken and demanded of his servants, the Ministry took it and had no remorse for the abrupt destitution visited upon those who'd thrown in their lot with the defeated Dark Lord.
As 1998 had concluded, Wizarding Britian only waited to see what fate would be visited upon the Malfoys.
The Ministry had accepted it as their first and only loss in their campaign to eradicate all of Lord Voldemort when it was finally decided that all options and theories had been exhausted.
There was absolutely nothing that could be used to void the Life Debt that Potter owed Narcissa Malfoy. There was no means of manipulating the arcane magic to allow the Ministry to bend the powerful force in their favor. They could not deny or disregard that Narcissa was owed whatever terms she sought for fulfillment of the debt Potter was required to honor.
Unless the Life Debt was fulfilled exactly as Narcissa demanded, Wizarding Britain could see their savior stripped of his magic and his life for defaulting on the magical debt.
In January 1999, Lucius and Draco were the last two Death Eaters left to be brought to justice by the War Tribunal.
The tribunal lasted only one single day, as there was little that could be done to avoid the outcome that must come to pass to fulfill the Life Debt.
Just as Narcissa had planned and commanded, both her husband and her son would only be imprisoned for five years exactly and not one single day beyond that. Any and all of their crimes committed in the service of the Dark Lord, during both wars and the ceasefire in between – all of it had to be covered under the five year sentence or there was no deal.
The Ministry for Magic had bitterly agreed to these terms but had added their own caveats before sealing the deal in a magical binding that neither party could default on.
Once being released from prison after one thousand, eight hundred and twenty-five days exactly –
Neither Draco nor Lucius would be allowed to possess a wand in Wizarding Britain ever again. Every Galleon, Sickle, and Knut that they had and every vault they owned in Gringotts Bank would be forfeited, including any possessions held within. Malfoy Manor and any other property within the British Isles that the Malfoys claimed would be seized and turned over to the Ministry with neither Draco or Lucius able to own, lease, or rent any property in Britain for the remainder of their lives. They would forfeit their rights to vote, register or own a business, be employed by anyone without special permissions from the Ministry. Draco would not be able to marry or have custody of a child due to the branding of the Dark Mark, while Lucius was to have his marriage bond annulled and barred from having contact with any Wizarding citizen under the age of 17 because he carried the Dark Mark, as well.
Anyone caught assisting or providing either Malfoy wizard with any of the things that were outlined in the terms and conditions of their parole would be considered as an accessory and co-conspirator to war crimes and punished to the fullest extent of the law.
A period of twenty-four months of parole would follow their imprisonment, in which both Lucius and Draco would be closely monitored – and only then would their sentence be considered truly served and they were free to live the half-life of pariahs that awaited them.
The message was clear.
The price for the cunning plan that Narcissa had hatched meant that Draco and Lucius would not be able to exist in any meaningful capacity within the borders of Wizarding Britain. If she chose to be the lone Malfoy to try and rebuild their lives in Britain, she would be considered a criminal herself. There was no place or tolerance anymore for anyone named Malfoy within Britain, not ever again.
Draco allowed his hands to drop from his face as he took one last deep breath.
He had not let himself think of what awaited him after Azkaban, despite knowing full well the strictures that the Ministry had put upon him. He didn't think he would have gotten through the past five years with his mind and his spirit intact if had dwelled too much upon what he knew awaited him. From the moment that he had been turned over to the guards of Azkaban Island, Draco had been solely focused on not becoming lost within the desolate stone prison – because he had promised his mother he wouldn't.
Now that the thousandth, eighth hundred and twenty-sixth day had arrived, there was little choice but to look towards the next two years.
He had kept count of his days for five years so far –
And Draco knew that he could keep count for seven hundred and thirty more days until he was really and truly free.
