Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I do not own Harry Potter. The beginning is in Harry's point of view, but it will be clear by the end of this chapter why it has to be. I assure you that this is a Draco & Hermione dodad.

Harry bolted down the dark corridor; the only light coming from his wand. He had lost Ron and Hermione a while ago; Hogwarts had turned into something similar to an Escher Room, it was so disorientating sometimes he had no idea which way was up or down. This could even be a dream for all he knew, but it wasn't the smells and the colors were too real. The smell of blood leaked through every pore of the castle covering it in what seemed like the odor of metal and salt. _I should have known this would happen! Why didn't I see it coming? Now not only am I in danger but everyone in the castle! _It had all started when Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor common room when pain had racked his body in a blinding heat; his friends had come to his aid, just when the lights went out. He awoke alone in the dark sweating his scar was open and bleeding. Voldemort had somehow arrived in the castle using all his dark magic to turn Hogwarts into one of those muggle horror movies. He had been running for what seemed like hours. Harry was so tired and sweaty he sat down. _There is nothing else to be done, I have to calm down and think. What does Voldemort want besides trying to kill me? There is always an ulterior motive! _Yet with people in danger and without his friend's quick thinking he felt useless. _If Voldemort wins we are all doomed, he'll just go on living! Before anyone knows it he will have taken over half the wizarding world and started to kill innocent muggles! _ This was not a solution.

Then he heard it. It was Ron's voice, or more like a vestige of it, his voice came out in a strangled coughing scream. This was all Harry needed to hear and he bolted down the corridor, leaping over fallen objects and people. Finally he rounded the corner and came upon Voldemort and his two best friends. Ron was standing gallantly in front of Hermione taking what was the forbidden cruciatus curse. Hermione looked shell shocked as Voldemort cackled in his high-pitched laugh obviously enjoying the pain.

"Expelliarmus," Harry shouted, but it had no affect; the spell had missed him completely. He watched in horror as Ron started begging for mercy.

"Please, just kill me but not her! She's my life, " Ron gasped as he spat up blood " I love her…" This, instead of causing sympathy caused Voldemort to sneer.

"So history repeats itself, well I will not be defeated this time you fools!" Voldemort's voice sounded off as Harry desperately tried to find any spell that would work screaming all the while.

"Avada Kedavera." Everything felt like Harry was underwater, no sound rushed in his ears and time seemed to move in slow motion as Ron was hit and was thrown into the nearest window. Glass shattered everywhere as Ron's lifeless body crumpled to the ground. Hermione opened her mouth to scream but Harry could not hear it. Another flash of emerald light rocked through the room and soon she lay in a puddle of Ron's blood. Dead.

"Why did you do this? WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST KILL ME?" Harry bellowed at Voldemoret.

"Because Potter," he hissed "I have already killed you, you are just an empty shell, and now we will finish the job." With that Voldemort disappeared and the entire room turned black and white, except for the red that punctuated the room.

"Where did you go? Why-" Harry turned to face a mirror floating in the room, the glass seemed to move and shudder under his stare.

"Where did I go? Why I've been here the whole time, " hissed Voldemort, " just look a little deeper." And with that Harry's face began to disintegrate, revealing flesh and bone. Then another, grayer smoother skin was exposed, and Harry was looking into the face of Lord Voldemort.

"No it can't be! It can't be!"

Then he woke up, to Ron shaking him violently.

"Hey mate, wake up you're going to wake up Dean and Seamus," said Ron looking at him with clear blue eyes "is it You Know Who you? You were screaming pretty bad." Harry sat up and reached for his glasses. He had had this dream multiple times. _If only he knew how many times I had this dream. _They had started when he had gotten to school and it was now late January. Harry had no idea how he had managed to hide them for this long. _All I need now is them finding out. Sure, they could help, but if my dreams are right they are only going to get hurt! I need to do something about this, but what? _

"Oh it's nothing Ron, I'm fine, just dreamed that we lost the House Cup and Draco was dancing on top of it," he sighed "that's all." Ron looked at him skeptically.

"Are you sure Harry because you can tell me anything?" Harry knew that look, he was going to tell Hermione, and Ron always was spending less and less time with him and more time with her.

_Of course that is explainable, _he thought as he looked in the mirror. He had stopped eating; food provided no comfort to him anymore. The face that looked back at him was almost skeletal; Hermione had taken to monitoring his food intake. Of course, Harry would just hide the food in his robes, shove it under the table, or throw it up in the bathroom. The very thought of living and harboring the fact that he was either going to become possessed by Voldemort, or worse he secretly wanted to kill his friends made him sick. _It's ironic though how I've outsmarted one of the smartest witches to ever grace Hogwarts. _Gryffindor had even had to find a new seeker; he found no joy in it anymore anyway. After a practice or Quidditch match the dreams would turn to the same thing, but then everything was falling. Fighting Voldemort was harder when you were falling. Sure, the team was worried, but he chalked it up to being stressed out, and they believed him. Everyone knew that he was the 'chosen one' so they let it be.

Harry watched as Ron went back to sleep, it was too early, especially for him, to be up. No one would be up right now it was so early, about six in the morning. _I'll go for a walk and clear my head. Maybe I'll see Ron later. _It wasn't that he did not care it was more or less that he was apathetic to everything except those scaring heated dreams. Harry tiptoed down the stairs into the red and gold common room and met no one. _Thank goodness. _He did not want to meet anyone this morning, especially an incapacitated Hermione lounging in her usual armchair. Even the Fat Lady lay slumped in her portrait; a cup of brandy laid near her opened hand.

Harry made it all the way to the Owlrey seeing little to no one. Light shone through the large windows reflecting in yellow tones off the soft hay bedding. Owls lay nestled between each other hooting softly. He walked over to Hedwig and touched her softly caressing her white feathers.

"Hey Hedwig how are you feeling." She looked up with her huge yellow eyes and clicked her beak as she climbed up to her usual spot on Harry's shoulder. He smiled. _Now I just have to think of a plan to fix all this. It could just be a ploy by Voldemort, like he did with Sirius. I still can't be too careful with this! My friends' lives are on the line! _He let the breeze riffle through his hair. Then he felt it. Pain blazed through him wracking his body, as he fell to the ground. When he awoke he was covered in white feathers.

"Hedwig? Hedwig?" _She must have gotten scared and is hiding. _He put on his glasses and stood up shakily then made his grueling discovery. On the ground with hay strewn over her cold lifeless body lay Hedwig. Blood covered her around a gash wound in her neck. Harry screamed. _How did this happen? How? _Tears rolled down his face. _ If I killed my owl what does that mean for my friends? They will never be safe from me or Voldemort, or whatever I am! I know what I have to do now. _Wiping his face off Harry first had to hide the body of one of his most loyal companions. He ended up stuffing her in a hole created by one of the more restless owls not able to fly because of the recent snowstorms. Her wings had to be broken to fit her inside.

Feeling hollow inside he walked slowly back to Gryffindor Tower. _I know what I have to do. There is only one way to stop Voldemort. _He gulped down air in an effort to calm himself and pushed back into the Gryffindor Common Room. Meeting him was the face of Hermione and Ron. _She looks worried which means she'll want to talk. I don't have time for this! I need to stop this now!_

"Harry we have been looking for you everywhere," she gasped almost knocking him over, "have you eaten breakfast you look positively peckish! We have to get you something to eat, and then afterwards we can go over transfiguration for that test tomorrow." She smiled at him and tried to nudge Ron in the shoulder. It was obviously noticed by Harry. _They are up to something. _

"Yeah and then maybe afterwards we can play some Wizards Chess," Ron opted, jostling his chess set on his hip before giving a smile.

"Oh um sure. Just let me get something and I'll meet up with you at breakfast," Harry grinned back. Lying had gotten very easy over the passing months. He wasn't sure if it was just because he didn't care anymore or he wanted to protect his friends from his dark secrets at all costs. _Maybe it's a little bit of both. _As he went to his room he had had for the past six years he touched the wood of his bed fondly. It would be the last time he saw it. _I should at least write them a note explaining everything. _It wasn't long, it just listed the details and stuffed it under Ron's pillow; he was sure to find it there. Harry sighed and walked out of the room and out onto the landing. All the while he felt something following him, he wasn't sure what yet. Harry tried some evasive tactics meant for crocodiles, but couldn't shake the menacing presences. _ Oh well it will all be over soon, _he thought as he climbed the steps to the astronomy tower_. _It was the tallest place he could think of. Glancing over the edge he realized that it would only take mere seconds to end everything. _I'm sure Hermione and Ron can handle everything. I even gave instructions on how I think Voldemort should die. With me out of the way they can handle the situation better. Then…then I won't have to deal with those awful dreams. _Harry looked over the edge and contemplated the best way of doing this. It was not everyday one contemplated their suicide.

"Potter what are you doing up here," said a familiar drawling voice. Harry pivoted; tripping, but still managed to stay on top of the tower, although precariously.

"That's none of you're business Malfoy," said Harry, "Wait, were you stalking me the whole time?" Harry clenched his fist in anger. _How dare he after all he had been through_, and in that moment he felt something akin to anger. It was an almost pleasant feeling instead of apathy.

"Now why would I be following you? What are you doing? Something to get in trouble for, I bet."

"Shut the fuck up Malfoy, you have no idea what I've been through and you never will! I know what and who you are so just leave me alone!" Malfoy's face changed.

"I have some idea of what you are going through and I've come…I've come to offer my assistance."

"I don't need your help! I have had to deal with your 'help' all these years and it's given me nothing but pain."

"Potter." Draco looked remorseful; almost pleading with his eyes.

"It's too late for me," Harry took a deep breath, "you never wanted to help anyway! Know one does anymore! It's best to end it now!"

"That's not true! We can fix it. I know I haven't been the nicest person in the past but believe me I want to help you…I need you," whispered Draco.

"No. Good Bye…" Harry turned and looked into the abyss as he stepped to the edge. He noticed a small gathering of First Years who had stopped their impromptu snowball fight. They pointed and waved to Harry laughing all the while.

Then he jumped and fell one hundred and fifty feet. Draco pulled out his wand in horror shouting every spell to stop Harry's fall, but to no avail. His body hit the snow with a sickening crack. Then Draco heard the wailing of one of the First Year girls. Draco joined her; his last hope was gone.

"Draco Malfoy, come with us," said a dark mysterious voice . Draco whisked around and stood to face several tall ministry agents.

"But I didn't do it! He was suicidal! I'm sure there is proof! Noooooooooo!" The tallest official, donned in purple robes grabbed his shoulders and stunned him. Everything went black.

**A/N:** Reviews anyone?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: I'm sincerely sorry for neglecting my story. Over the summer my dog died and I was working nights. In October I had this chapter written but my computer died taking my finished chapter to the grave. After everything decided to die I had to write 6 different papers all at least 10 pages and study for finals. So there is my excuse, it isn't a very good one.

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Harry Potter I wouldn't know so much about Inuit art, unless Harry was secretly an Inuit. GASP!

* * *

Hermione stood next the rickety old file cabinet with a harried expression as several loose curls of hair came free from her sloppily made bun. She rubbed her eyes trying to banish the sleep from her mind but to no avail. For hours Hermione had been trapped in a tangled web of musty file and court documents. Structure was second nature to Hermione and the state of the room was just the opposite. Spider webs and dust had taken over the room it. Dust had made a nest in Hermione's hair, clothes, and even up her nose. _I mean really is it too much to ask for someone competent? A simple dust removal spell would be all they needed. _

Shaking her hair free from dust for the second time she pawed through the archives._ It should not be this hard to alphabetize files._However the Ministry of Magic had been short on people for years ever since Harry died and Voldemort kept gaining more and more followers over the years. _Harry…_ she thought slamming the drawer shut a little bit too hard causing dust motes to fly into the air, _no you can not get upset about this. _Yet her mind flew to the past three years ago, _there were signs there must have been something I could have done. _

Hermione and Ron had just sat down to three steaming cups of hot coco when Neville had burst through the door. Scarf askew and hair a mess Neville bent down to catch his breath. Neville wiped his nose before speaking.

* * *

"H-Harry…" Neville choked out his face red from the cold but also partly from running "somethings happened..." Hermione jumped out the chair knocking over her coco panic stricken.

"What," she strangled out trying to keep her voice even, "Neville what happened is Harry okay?" Ron looked back at her tight lipped. Before Neville could speak Ron had stood up also.

"Oh Ron I knew we shouldn't have left him alone." Hermione's throat constricted in the usual sensation before crying, but she banished the thought from her mind. Remaining calm wasn't her usual forte

Ron grabbed Hermione's shoulder in a comforting gesture she hadn't know he was capable of. "Spit it out Neville you're upsetting her!" It was eerily quiet for a moment only the sound of hot coco dripping off the table onto the floor.

"I..." Neville looked down at the floor trying not to meet Ron's gaze. Ever since Harry had become more reclusive Ron had become more outspoken. _No, outspoken wasn't the word, he'd become more aggressive. It is almost as if Harry's rash behavior was keeping Ron's in check. _

"Where is he what happened? C'mon we don't have all bloody day," Ron whispered hoarsely. Hermione knew that he wasn't screaming for her benefit, but that did not make the situation any better.

"G-go outside, he's outside on the ground," Neville whimpered. Ron took a threatening step forward causing Neville to step back in fear.

"Is that all Neville, because so help me…"

"Ron stop it, Harry could be hurt and intimidating Neville is not going to help!" Hermione jerked her arm away from Ron. In becoming leader of their little group it seemed that Ron's people skills were even less tactful than Harry's especially under pressure. _The best we can hope for is that it is something minor._

At her words Ron grabbed her hand and pulled her through the door practically dragging her down flights of stairs. She took one last look at Neville before she was dragged out of sight and into the hallway. Hermione wasn't sure how she managed to keep up but she did and eventually they made it outside and ran to the astronomy tower. Hermione grabbed her scarf tightly around herself, _I should have grabbed a jacket, _she thought wistfully_. _

Ministry agents swarmed around a small red dot that, if it were spring, might have been mistaken for the bright blooms of flowers. Yet the cold winter landscape spoke of death. Ron was the first to get there Hermione was close behind. She covered her mouth when she saw what used to be her best friend and clutched Ron.

Harry's body had been broken in several places arms jutting out at odd angles his robes slightly ripped. It looked like they had caught on something before continuing the fall. Were his head used to be was a mess, red everywhere. Luckily he had died face down, his face had literally been smashed to pieces and blood was slowly freezing into the snow.

The constant wailing of what looked like a first year girl did not help, teachers and Ministry staff were trying to comfort her but to no avail. Eventually the wind picked up bringing more cold and silence to the landscape as the girl was carted inside to await St. Mungo's officials. It was only broken by Ron.

"What the bloody hell! Who did this?" Ron screamed pointing at Harry's lifeless body. He made a sound that sounded like a whimper and Hermione latched on to him. "Who did this?" The shouting in the backdrop got louder almost as an answer to Ron's query.

"I didn't do it!" Hermione and Ron whipped around to see two Ministry agents leading a disheveled looking Draco across the grounds. It looked like he had be punched, a purplish black bruise forming around his right eye. Draco struggled against the bonds but to no avail and before she knew it Ron had broken free of her grip and was running towards the agents.

"Ron no!" It was too late though and Ron was hit with a beam of red sparks and slumped to the ground.

* * *

Hermione was startled by when something wet hit her hand. _I can't cry now,_ she thought wiping the tears away _if anyone saw me I might be put on probation and that is not acceptable. _She shook her head clear from the thought.

From the ensuing war many wizards and witches were seen unfit to do their work. The final result was either medical leave or the eventual unemployment of many of them as they were unable to continue their work. Usually it was one of two things, losing a loved or driven to the point of near insanity by Voldemort's followers.

Luckily Hermione hadn't suffered loses in her immediate family. She had sent her parents to live their days in Australia; it always hurt never being able to see her parents again but it was worth it. Ron however hadn't been so lucky. Fred had died when death eaters raided the Weasly's joke shop not only sending Ron, but George into a depression. After that Percy had been taken down trying to protect Ministry secrets only after just redeeming himself in the eyes of his family.

Ginny almost had been killed earlier this month and was only saved by the Order after they found her tied up in Bellatrix's basement. Though they managed to save Ginny with minimal psychical damage Bellatrix escaped virtually unharmed cackling as she disappeared.

It was not a euphemism that the last few months had been somber and after the incident Hermione hadn't felt like herself. _Don't cry, don't cry!_ It was too late though the flood gates had broken and all of her emotions began to seep through.

_If only I hadn't started thinking about Harry!_

_

* * *

_

"I know this may seem hard," Shacklebolt placed his hand on hers, "but it is for the best, besides with your intelligence you would be helping us a great deal."

"But sir I am fine, besides it has been months," Hermione whispered. Though the walls had a silencing charm on them she did it out of habit. Not many had known about the incident that had rattled her and she planned to keep it that way.

"Yes and during these months you have been on probation and the Ministry has decided that it would be better if you stepped down and take a vacation," Shacklebolt spoke softly trying not to upset her.

"I assure you Mr. Shacklebolt that I am perfectly capable…" He lifted up a hand to silence her, before handing her a box of tissues. Hermione touched her face, _when did I start crying._

"Miss Granger we found you collapsed next to a filing cabinet in room 285B, I'd say otherwise," he shifted in his seat. Hermione glanced up at him confused. "We have placed a calming spell on you so that I am able to tell you that you are currently suspended from all Auror activities till further notice."

"Sir!" she tried to raise her voice but found she couldn't, "I can't go back home, it is worse home than here…"

"That may be Miss Granger, but…"

"There must be something I can do anything! After, after you know what happened Ron hasn't been himself he only talks in monosyllables! I can't go back home work is the only thing keeping me sane right now." Hermione put her head in hear hands trying to remain calm. The charm did its job but even then it could only do so much.

"I'm sorry, but the Ministry has ordered your withdrawal from their services." Shacklebolt looked solemnly at her. He offered his hand to Hermione to help her up. "I am sure that it is not as bad as you say, getting some rest will help.

"He blames me…" she finally whispered. He said it wasn't her fault but she knew he blamed her. _I tried to explain to him that I didn't know that if I did I could have stopped it. _Ron seemed to understand right after it happened but understanding lead to resentment. Now their marriage was in ruins.

Sighing Shacklebolt let her go and began to rub his temples. "He still blames you, huh? You know it wasn't your fault, anyone could have made that mistake." _Yes_, Hermione thought, _anyone could make that mistake but it was my job to protect her_, and _I failed._

"I know…" Hermione's voiced quavered. They had been so in love until recent events, _why does this have to happen now._

She watched as Shacklebolt crossed back over his desk and riffled through his papers. He eventually handed her a deep violet file with the Ministry's symbol emblazoned on the front. He motioned for her to sit back down as he did.

"Now Miss Granger this assignment is a very important one, and if you choose to accept the task it may be too much to handle," stated Shacklebolt clearly. "Please turn to the first page so we can get started.

It took several hours to go over the assignment its details. From what Hermione understood the Ministry was interested in rehabilitating prisoners in Azkaban; these people would have committed minor crimes or had been found innocent due to the judicial system.

Apparently the Ministry had several reasons for doing this. One the prisons were getting too crowed since Azkaban had to be downsized after the majority of Dementors left. Secondly the Ministry was under new management after Scrimegeour had been killed, it was now under one Rory Greenwrot an up and comer from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He believed that introducing reformed criminals back into society would provide positive moral between people. Also releasing them would allow the Ministry to gain more information on you-know-who and his whereabouts. To Hermione it seemed ludicrous but she kept silent.

From what Hermione understood is that she would be the first in a line of questioners and mental health evaluators that would deem who was fit to enter back into wizarding society.

"Now Miss Granger the first person assigned is a high security prisoner, but evidence suggests that he is innocent. Minister Greenwrot has suggested his release would provide a large amount of information on the death eaters and You-Know-Who." He nodded in her direction. "However due to who it is it may provide too much psychologically for you to handle."

Hermione opened her mouth to refute his claim, but Shacklebolt lifted his hand again to silence her.

"I am not even supposed to give you this assignment, but you are one of the most intelligent witches in this organization plus your interrogation and logic skills surpass many older people in the Auror department. Furthermore it would help the Order greatly to provide means to reject the prisoner for release."

Shacklebolt looked out the magically charmed window as he sighed and collected himself. Hermione knew that if she failed at this task not only would she be suspended but worse Shacklebolt would get in trouble for providing her with one of the kindest acts she'd received in months. A chance to escape.

Hermione took a deep breath and asked the question she knew would make or break her decision on the matter.

"Who am I evaluating?"

* * *

Thunder roared as waves crashed against the stone building that had provided comfort to so many witches and wizards outside its walls, but for those who lived within only constant suffering. To those imprisoned in Azkaban it provided a fate worse than death. Life within death, or half-life, was her name and no one could escape her grasp.

It was with the loudest crash of thunder, which shook the entire building that an emaciated prisoner fell of the bed and onto the floor. Draco Malfoy halfheartedly attempted to get up but instead decided to lie there. His white gold hair lay drab and long over his face and his prison uniform resembled no more than a bundle of dirty rags.

_So you aren't getting up this time? Tsk tsk what a pity,_ a voice taunted through Draco's thoughts.

"At least I can still get up," hissed Draco aloud, but his words carried no bite, he was too tired for this. He rolled over onto his side to inch away from the salty wetness that was beginning to seep onto the floor as another wave broke against the window.

Draco tried to ignore the familiar voice that more often than not driving him more insane the further it provided him with company. When he first began to hear it he thought he was crazy, but now it was little more than a reoccurring oddity.

_Oh feisty, you know I may not be able to get up anymore but at least I'm not crazy. Hearing the voices of dead, especially your greatest rival, in your head isn't exactly normal._

"Yes well, without my continued insanity you wouldn't exist so count your blessings Potter," stated Draco wryly_. _

Of _course my mistake Malfoy failure has always been natural too you. Always second best to Hermione and me in school and in life. How does it feel to be second best to a voice in your head? _Harry's voice grew more malicious as it realized it was not getting the usual rise out of Draco.

"I'm not a failure…you are. At least I didn't kill myself and abandon my friends to deal with the Dark Lord alone! Especially after I was trying to help you," Draco raised his voice as he spoke. He proceeded to push his hair out of his face revealing eyes the color of the storm outside. He looked around trying to see the owner of the voice, but like always he was never there.

_Really Draco if you wanted to help me you would have helped the moment you knew, but you waited. Coward. Because of you I'm dead don't you remember? _Draco wished the thoughts would stop but he had no control over them. The voice cackled. _Think of my dead body lying there all broken like that, all that blood, can't you remember the smell?_

"I didn't kill you, you did! I tried to save you," Draco's voice got louder in response, but luckily the storm masked it. Yet secretly he knew he had waited, he had wanted to see what would happen to Harry more out of spite than anything else. _I only wanted to watch him suffer a bit; he deserved it after all he was the chosen one Harry should have been able to handle it. _

_Ok I'm sorry I was wrong, it whispered and fell silent, but at least I'm not a murder remember? I mean even if you won't admit you killed me, at least admit you killed your mother._

That final statement struck a chord in him, out of all the people in the world who genuinely like Draco for himself and loved him as much as she could his mother was always there. He could never think of hurting her let alone killing her. Yet deep down he knew it was his fault, but he couldn't handle the truth.

"Liar!" The blonde did the only thing he knew to get Harry Potter to go away and leave him alone he ran head first into one of the prison walls. Luckily the resounding thud was masked by the storm outside. If the prison guards heard the sound they'd send the Dementors in again.

There were few Dementors left in the prison but the guards enjoyed setting them on the prisoners. It was great fun for them to see them scream and squirm as their worst memories consumed them.

As Draco slid to the floor the only sound he could hear was his own thoughts and ragged breath. _Why did I have to eat that prison mold?_Draco could remember the event leading up to Harry Potter taking up a permanentresidence in his mind over the last six months.

At first life was hard eating prison gruel, but at least he had remained in solitary away from the more vicious inmates. However what kept him going were the frequent letters from his mother_. _It was slightly ironic Draco thought, that he was under high security lockdown, yet he still managed to write and receive letters from his mum.

The letters had at first started with well wishes and frequent updates on the escapades of his father and other death eaters. Much of this was in code for good measure.

Also located in the letters were Narcissa's attempts to free him from jail but to no avail. It was made clear over time that the Dark Lord blamed him for the death of Harry Potter, the boy he had worked for seventeen years to kill. In some it was made very obvious that though she loved him, maybe he would be better off in prison.

_I should have noticed the change, should've stopped writing to her_, it was a musing that remained almost constant in his mind. Of course he had to be weak and needy. After about 9 months of correspondence the letters began to change. They became shorter and more distant. Also a more interesting reoccurrence was the imprint left by tiny wet marks on the page.

Draco wanted and needed to believe that these marks weren't from his mother and that he was not the cause. He chalked it up to be that the water from the surf had just sprayed tiny droplets onto the letter. It was a quaint idea, but Draco knew that it was not true, that his mother had been crying repeatedly over something. He hoped it wasn't him that she was crying out of happiness instead.

Around the year mark of correspondence with his mother the letters stopped all together. He had waited patiently in his cell waiting for his mother's letters. Even going too far as to sleep right by the cell bars. This action gained many bruises from guards that would patrol nightly and think it great fun to kick him in the face. Nightmares were also common from Dementors gliding by feeding on misery.

Then a letter finally came after months of waiting. Draco remembered gleefully opening the only way to the outside world, but the letter was not in her usually flowing cursive. Instead it was in his father's harsher handwriting.

The letter explained due to the continued correspondence with her son, against the Dark Lord's wishes, Narcissa had been punished by the Cruciatus Curse resulting in her early demise. Draco's father went on to explain that because of Draco his mother was dead. It ended in the words "you have and never will be my son."

After reading that the next thing Draco remembered was waking up licking the black fungus from the walls of his cell and the guards laughing at him. _Oh how I wished that wasn't true at all that this was all a dream._ It had not been and in reality he missed the last six months due to trauma and the other due to the fungus.

For what was the next year and a half, or was it two years Draco was then haunted by the voice of Harry Potter. He wasn't sure if it was being haunted by a ghost or in fact he had gone insane. Regardless he had learned how to handle it. _I wish I hadn't learned to deal with it at all…_

Harry had recently learned to mimic his mother's voice and it got great laughs until Draco realized she was never coming back.

Hearing footsteps Draco finally got up and made his way slowly back to his bad. All they need to do is find me up, they'll just send in the Dementors for fun. They liked to do that from time to time to "keep him in his place."

_Hahe maybe they'll try and give you a little kiss, whispered Harry again. _

"Don't you ever go away," he mumbled as the guards came to the front of his cell accompanying a pair of Dementors.

"Hey there sweetheart having a bad day?" The burlier guard asked sarcastically. He had a thick wiry beard and looked more suited to live in the mountains than locked on an island in the middle of an ocean.

_Aw looks like you got a little boyfriend, maybe now you can stop obsessing about me, though I am incredibly attractive. _

"Shut up!"

"Ooo Maurice looks like he doesn't know who's boss eh? Maybe we should teach him a lesson," the smaller man with brown hair state gleefully. Instead of agreeing Maurice waggled his finger.

"Not today Garfield, Drakie over here has a date with destiny," he grinned his mouth mostly obscured by scruff.

"Wait what?" Draco walked over to the bars incredulously wondering if it was a trap or they were actually serious.

"Oi didn't you hear," Garfield said seriously "they're thinking about letting you out of jail. Personally I think that Greenwrot guy is full of shit. I mean letting the likes of you out of jail is just loony." He punched Maurice in the arm playfully.

"Regardless orders are orders. Come here wittle Draco." As they unlocked the cell Draco thought about escaping for a brief moment, _but what if they were going to set him free? _They handcuffed him and led him down a long dark hallway. Not that that was much different than the whole prison, but Draco hadn't seen outside his cell in three years.

At the end of the hallway was a large, what looked to be steel doors. The Dementors seemed displeased that Draco was being lead away from them into a different room but did nothing more than wheeze more loudly. He was practically thrown into a room.

Once inside he was handcuffed by magic to a chair, not like it mattered he didn't have his wand anymore, and the guards left. It was an unremarkable room dimly lit by half a dozen candles hovering over his head. For a moment he was reminded of the great hall and all the wonderful food there. It was so safe and warm, the polar opposite of this place.

Draco waited for several long minutes before something silver entered the room. He thought he was going crazy for a moment. Yet it turned out to be an opalescent patronus that flipped and glided playfully around the room. At first Draco thought it was a weasel, but on further inspection it was revealed to be an otter.

Startled Draco looked at the door which had begun to creep open; he tore his gaze off the playful animal and placed it firmly on the door. If they want to interrogate me fine, but I'm done with this place and done with them. Then someone entered and Draco was shocked at what he saw.

* * *

**A/ N**: Oh hey there glad you finished my story. Constructive criticism is welcome. I'm going to update on the 17th or 18th of this month even if my boyfriend tempts me with Italian food to do otherwise. Have a nice day.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I'm alive!

Locking eyes with Draco Malfoy Hermione strode into the room. _I can do this_, was her only thought. Cool ice bored into her as Malfoy stared back unabashedly. There was only one minor flaw with his gaze, she could tell by the small creases near his eyes that he was nervous. _Good._ He could only cause verbal injury shackled to the dark sturdy chair. True he may have murdered her friend but she held the power now. _Power, that's what Voldemort wanted, but that's what you want too, _whispered her conscious. Maybe that was true, maybe she did want to make him pay for all the death he did and didn't cause. On normal circumstances Hermione would have never taken the case, she was too biased; wanting to cause him pain, but it was also out of desperation. It was her last hope to prove to her family and herself that she could still be an Auror. Maybe this would help her marriage, no this would she was sure of it.

She had gone through the necessary measures of providing comfort to her but remained intimidating to the prisoner. Her hair was pulled together too tight at the nape of her neck and her dark pinstriped suit was uncomfortably snug. However, it revealed nothing but a small amount of creamy cleavage. It was too the point in Hermione's life where the more uncomfortable she was the better she felt. It was a far cry from her days at Hogwarts where an old book provided the soothing effect that pain brought her today. Nonchalantly dusting the grime off her golden chair, still maintaining eye contact, she sat down with necessary force. She should have toned it down but she only cared half-heartedly. Proceeding to open her bag she took out his file. It was with that action that Malfoy looked down for a fraction of a second. This was what she was looking for, that small action of being cowed. _This should make his evaluation easier._

"Malfoy, Draco," she stated her voice firm "Age twenty seven, height six feet one inch, eyes grey, hair blonde." She had gotten his information weeks in advanced and had memorized every word and minute detail of his case. The folder was so dog eared Hermione actually had to borrow a new one from the supply closet.

"Weight one hundred and ten pounds," her voice was steady still staring at Malfoy's emaciated face. That part had always bothered her, but for all intents and purposes he was still a murderer to her. Why should she care about his well-being? It was so much easier to look at the world in black and white instead of shades of grey. _Here comes the hard part_, she swallowed. It was easier to convict total strangers of death when you hadn't known who died. Faceless victims she never had to look at.

"Accused and convicted of the murder of Harry James Potter in the first degree on April 28th 1998. Cause of death being pushed from the astronomy tower resulting in a crushed skull, one collapsed lung, five broken ribs, two broken arms, a fractured pelvic bone and one broken toe." Hermione paused for dramatic affect thinking about what she'd make Ron for dinner instead of her best friend laying there on the cold hard ground. If she thought about it would either make her cry, physically ill, or both.

"I never had a trial," Draco spluttered looking at her with genuine confusion. Hermione ignored this statement as a fallacy and rebuffed him.

"That's impossible Mr. Malfoy," stated Hermione calmly. "If you continue to lie you will be forced to drink vertaserum." Hermione had rejected the idea of using vertaserum on any of her subjects. She would rather rely on her skill as an Auror instead of forcing those, even criminal to take a truth potion.

l***l

"I'm not lying Granger," Draco sneered at her looking down on her from his chair. That wasn't too hard considering he was half a foot taller than her sitting. In truth he was terrified, those two actions had taken almost every amount of strength he had. The response had taken a lot of brain power too; he did not want her to think he was weak. After all she was no longer the girl he'd once teased but some vengeful woman with eyes that seemed to glow by themselves. The guards must have been lying the Ministry didn't want to help, they wanted a show. In truth though the ministry played her for a fool he had never had a trial. Instead he was thrown in jail without any investigation.

_They threw you to the lions like you deserve you slimy git_, hissed that familiar voice_. Or rather a lioness_ Harry cackled.

_Some lioness, she's not that scary_, he thought but he knew it was a lie. Before he could get Harry to stop laughing Granger interrupted his thoughts.

"That is Mrs. Weasley to you Mr. Malfoy. Now I will ask again do you know why you are here?" There was a slight edge to her voice. Draco couldn't help it he looked down for the wedding ring, but there was no ring on either finger.

"Trouble in paradise Mrs. Weasley?" he drawled emphasizing the weasel in Weasley. Her face tightened and Draco knew he shouldn't push her but it was too fun. _After all, _he justified,_ the Ministry just wants to kill me anyway, might have some fun. _

"Mr. Malfoy you should concern yourself with your own well-being. Licking the mold off prison walls and mumbling to yourself is a far cry from decent behavior." She was smirking slightly now. It was a cold cruel smirk. Draco was used to seeing it on the face of the Dark Lord and his father, not Granger; Weasley or whatever she was now. "I do not believe that is a prerequisite on most women's eligible bachelor list."

Draco couldn't think of a response but scowl. It was hard thinking of insults without breakfast, or sanity for that matter. Besides for all he knew she lived her life happily with the weasel with a bunch of (what are weasel babies called?) running around.

_Those aren't much different than ferrets. Squishy, whoosy, booshy ferrets_, Harry sing songed, _though with your penis problem-_

_At least I have a penis, enough of one to have a problem with, _added Draco satisfied. He met dead silence on the other end. Harry was at least gone for ten or more minutes while he thought of a better comeback. _Blessed silence._

"Now I will ask you one final time Mr. Malfoy, do you know why you are here today," Granger asked looking down at him. How was that even possible when she was so much shorter than him?

"No, enlighten me," Draco sighed. They probably were going to send him to a tighter security cell. There weren't cells with any higher security, unless they managed to charm a cell and have it directly float over the water. Maybe they could even have sharks swim directly under it, sharks with wands attached to their heads. The Ministry could do it those bastards.

"Mr. Malfoy it has come to Minister Greenwrot's attention that your case had a large level of mishandled and contaminated evidence. Therefore he and a panel of twelve witches of wizards have found you innocent."

"What?" That was all Draco could strangle out before his vocal cords seemed to collapse inwardly only allowing him to produce a strange gurgling sound. He also experienced a cold chill shuddering from his back downwards, causing his toes to curl cracking in his shoes. This had to be a joke, he had "killed" their chosen one. No one would want to admit that the golden boy had killed himself.

"Yes, however there are several conditions that need to be met before you are released," said Granger pausing with a quirked eyebrow noticing Draco's odd reaction. His response to her was only a quite awed gurgle at the vengeful woman turned benevolent savior.

"First you must pass a psychological evaluation conducted by me, a psychical evaluation for your health, and yearlong probationary period to determine whether you are actually fit to be reintroduced into wizarding society. This means community service every day and the careful tracking of how, where, when, and who or what you use magic on. Is that understood?"

"_Would you like a taco_," whispered Harry.

_Shit…_


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter if I did it would probably look something like this, but with more ruminants. :)

_Not now, not now, not now, wished Draco internally as he shut his eyes._ As he willed Harry back to playing in the dark recesses of his mind, Draco breathed in deeply trying to get a handle on his emotions. What he expected to be happiness felt more like being cleaved in two, and left raw in front of the elements. _I'll die if I stay here. I just need to act normal, no twitching, no Harry jus-_

_No Harry? Really you'd get rid of me? Why I'm the only person who has kept you company for these ten long years!_

_ It wasn't ten you git it was three now be quiet I'm trying to think._ Draco breathed in again trying to calm himself. It wouldn't do if she found out about Harry, about how Azkaban had beaten him down and taken everything from him.

_I'm the closest thing you have to a friend Malfoy, I wouldn't call me a git. I mean your friends at Hogwarts never liked you; your parents never liked you. Why, I think everyone who ever knew you hated you._

"Mr. Malfoy, do you understand what I am saying?" Hermione's voice stabbed through him, to his very core. Draco shuddered and opened his eyes. Hermione regarded him coolly as it took Draco several long seconds to find his voice. Luckily it had not fled entirely.

"I believe, Mrs. Weasley, that it means that the Ministry is letting me go," said Draco snidely hoping she fell for his ruse; if she didn't he'd probably end up in tears. She did. Hermione looked back at Draco, her eyes slightly darker, her lips tight. Her face barely moved but she looked so disgusted.

_ Ew I agree. I mean your rags don't match your other rags and like ribs sticking out was so last season. Oh wait, it was because you murdered me!_ Harry cackled to himself. Draco took another deep breath, and tried not to scream back. That's what Harry wanted anyway: to trap him here forever as some sick vengeance._ Wait no you don't exist you're dead!_

"That is correct Mr. Malfoy. I am here to inform you that your psychological evaluation will begin tomorrow," Hermione said, slowly enunciating her words as she looked down and began looking through her file on the worn desk. Finding the file she raised her head and continued. "It will carry on from one to five every weekday until all the material has been covered and the Ministry's questions have been answered. At the end of our sessions together the physical examinations will begin. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes Mrs. Weasley,"Draco said, catching himself before saying Granger. It left a bad taste in his mouth; he'd never get used to calling her that. Yet, points for good behavior meant leaving this forsaken place. "Why is the physical examination after the psychological test? Wouldn't they want me in my best form?" Draco successfully managed a winning smile that felt like it was slowly sucking the life out of him. He wanted to know the answer for this question though. It had been in the back of his mind since the session began that the Ministry might want him to fail. It was a win-win for them._ Keep me emaciated and hopeful while extracting information from me that I don't have. Freaking brilliant._

"Mr. Malfoy the Ministry feels that it would waste everyone's time on this matter if you were to pass the physical examination but fail the psychological one. It should be quite easy for you to physically pass it as long as you are breathing," indicated Hermione. Draco thought he noted a smirk on those lips. He imagined a lot of things these days.

"I see, well then it shouldn't be too hard," whispered Draco smirking back. It was getting harder to pretend to be nonchalant even with the glistening silver otter flitting about the room. Draco wished he could just curl up on the cold stone floor that he was accustomed to sleeping on. It provided only the comfort of consistency; all that he had left to hold on too. Even with the possibility of release it still sounded so impossible.

"Is that all Mr. Malfoy?" Thoughts whorled in Draco's head but he couldn't form words. _Why were they doing this? Was the Ministry lying? Why Granger? Didn't the Ministry spot the connection between them? Will I really be free after this?_ Yet Draco swallowed all these thoughts because he could answer the last and most important one himself.

_ My butterbeer brings all the boys to the yard, especially at Hogwarts because you know you are responsible for my murder_, sang Harry in a high pitched voice.

"No," Draco whispered. Even if he was cleared of all charges and the Minsitry announced it with marching bands and baton twirlers, everyone would still find him guilty. Draco would still be the murderer of the 'boy who lived' regardless if that boy had committed suicide.

"Good," said Hermione calmly straitening her papers. "Our sessions will begin tomorrow and the guards will escort you to the chosen room at one. " The door handle jostled as Hermione finished and one unfamiliar guard entered.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley I am here to take Draco back to his cell," said a tall guard with short brown curly hair and dark eyes. She was followed by her Patronus, which looked like a crane. They must have changed shifts, Draco noticed. He knew her name but couldn't think of it.

"Right on time Hanna," said Hermione, looking more relaxed than Draco had ever seen her since this whole ordeal began. "Please escort Mr. Malfoy back to his cell. I hope he won't be too much trouble for you."

"No Ma'am you have a nice night and say hello to Mr. Weasley for me," she smiled softly at Hermione. She strode the length of the room and tapped her wand against the chair. Draco was instantly released into strong hands which bound him in shackles once more. He didn't feel like fighting: he was too tired to even resist Harry's taunts as she led him away.

Rain pounded against the rocky surface of Azkaban so thick that Hermione hesitated for several long minutes. It was five o'clock which meant her session with Malfoy was over. _An hour with that man was enough to give anyone heart disease_, she thought, opening her umbrella and walking into the torrent. Hermione strode with her head tucked into her jacket; she moved quickly, her heels clicking along the tiny cobblestone path trying to clear her head. Yet all she could think about was Draco._ Damn_.

She had been shocked when she entered the room. Malfoy was not the boy Hermione had remembered; he was nothing but a highly emaciated man who was little more than bones covered with skin. She shuddered as the strong gale tore at her jacket, but knew that part of the response was to his gaunt face. _No. I can't feel sympathy for him, even if the Ministry decided that evidence had been tampered with in the case._ She had talked to Shacklebolt after he had given her the assignment and they both agreed that it seemed out of character for the Ministry. Either Minister Greenwrot had found substantial evidence that Malfoy was innocent, or someone had used the imperious curse on him. _I'm betting on the latter_, she thought to herself. However, the Order, though extremely diminished in man power, had found nothing to back up her theory as of late._ I may have to do some reconnaissance myself._ That would have to wait until she got back to London; eyeing the ferry a few yards away she quickened her pace.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley weather is a bit nippy ain't it," shouted a familiar voice as she boarded the vessel.

"It is, Captain Morrison," Hermione said, looking up at the burly bearded man and quickly making her way inside the ship. Usually she stopped to chat with him about his children in Hogwarts, but she felt drained. In fifteen minutes they would dock where she could Apparate near her flat._ Maybe I should take a quick nap before we arrive._ Ron was probably going to come home late again and Hermione liked to wait up for him even if he kept coming home later each passing week. Hermione sat down on a padded seat and closed her eyes, resting her head against the window. Instead, images of Malfoy kept irritating her. _He will never pass the test._ The way his eyes would glaze over and he'd mumble to himself like he was talking to another person, or convulse on the spot killed his chances. The worst part was the eerily long silences where he would just sit there, his eyes almost as translucent as his skin and stare at nothing. Regardless, if Malfoy was innocent or not he was not sane anymore and sympathy arose once again inside her. Hermione pushed that thought back into the recess of her mind, but it kept bubbling up again.

_ I shouldn't feel sympathy for a liar._ It was true he had lied to her on more than one occasion in their preliminary session._ How am I supposed to believe that they threw him in Azkaban without a trial?_ It was preposterous that such a thing would be allowed. The media covered it extensively and the people associated with it strode up and down the ministry in their purple robes like they were on display at a beauty pageant._ I'll have to find the files to prove him wrong, Malfoy will probably bring it up again as a ploy to gain sympathy. After the weekend is over I'll have to contact Cinnabar who is charge of the records, maybe I'll send her an owl tonight. I'm sure she'll still be up._

Yet another thing bothered her before her mind could cool down once again. She wasn't sure if Malfoy intended for it to be a lie, but if it was it made him all the more annoying. He had claimed he had been in Azkaban for three years, but in reality it had been a little over ten since he had been convicted and sent there._ Did he even pay attention when she had read how old he was?_ It may be a clever ruse. _No, he is incapable of that; all signs point to him being insane. The only option she had was to use facts to confront his delusions, and if after that he chose to still believe them then everyone could sleep safely knowing he was still behind bars. That is the most I can do for him nothing else._

With a low resonating honk the ferry sounded its arrival. So much for that nap thought Hermione shaking her head. She made her way with the few other passengers to the exit. It was now only lightly drizzling. Opening her umbrella Hermione walked outside and drew her wand. She was grateful that the dock was run by wizards as her lower back began to hurt. Only a short way home now, she thought. Whisking her wand around her, she disappeared into the air.

Seconds later Hermione reappeared in the ally way directly across from her flat. Marching quickly through the puddles she opened the door and walked up the stairs and made her way to the third door on the right.

Hermione opened the door slowly. She wanted Ron to be there where he was safe, but part of her wanted him to be at work so she could be alone. Turning on the light, Hermione glanced at the yellow key bowl near the entrance. Ron's keys were not in there, which meant he was still at work.

_He likes it better in Diagon Alley with George._ It was a strain on Ron being far away from home and on top of that not being able to use magic regularly. At least it kept them safer from Death Eaters for the time being which mattered more to Hermione than being able to do magic on a regular basis.

_ Well at least I can go over notes before making dinner,_ Hermione mused, setting her keys down into the bowl. She walked towards her desk situated on the far wall and began unpacking her materials. Outside it was still raining. A warm object nudged against the side of her ankle causing her skin to prickle.

"Hey Crookshanks," whispered Hermione, stroking the old cat. He was getting on a bit, or as Ron would say "how can something that decrepit still be breathing?" He mewled long and low before slowly leaping onto the couch to take a nap. The flat was dead silent.

Bang! Suddenly a loud noise rang out behind her. Hermione whipped around, grabbed her wand, and then a scream rang out.

"Come in Mr. Schermerhorn," said Minister Greenwrot, blandly taking off his reading glasses, "of what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Schermerhorn inclined his head slightly and swiftly moved toward the empty chair across from Greenwrot's desk.

"It has come to our attention, sir, that you have found someone to lead the Malfoy case," addressed Shermerhorn. He touched his receding hairline absent-mindedly revealing his nervousness.

"Yes and what of it," commanded Minister Greenwrot. His smile faded from his lips into a harsh line.

"Well, sir, don't you think that is kind of dangerous?" Shermerhorn ventured, trying to smile at Greenwrot.

"What do you mean?"

"Well if the woman were to find out about—"Greenwrot raised his hand silencing Shermerhorn and slowly got out of the chair. Shermerhorn fiddled with his sleeve in anticipation of the minister's next move. The minister rounded the desk

"Believe me Shermerhorn, that woman is never going to find out. She is too loyal to the ministry, and hates him as much as anyone on the street. We gave the public what they wanted, they have their villain, and now we will use him to find He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, if a few people have to die in the process so be it. Besides, for him death is a kindness,"

"Yes," quavered Shermerhon, "but what about the missing documents, those under the Imperius curse, the lies? Surely the public will find out! Minister, I know my opinion is in the minority but maybe we could let them live?"

"You talk too much."

Suddenly a flash of blinding green light burst through the room. Seconds later Shermerhorn lay on the floor dead. Greenwrot smiled.

Authors Note: Hey everyone I have a lot more time on my hands so that means more updates if you are interested in my story! Thanks for reading and any reviews would be nice. Have a good day. : )


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