Chapter 1: The End of the Innocence

Life as Draco knew it was over once the wizarding war came to a close. Draco had only acted in accordance with the Dark Lord for a short amount of time, but it damned him for life in the post-war magical community. Though former Death Eaters received fair trials under new Ministry leadership, laws were passed that enacted a heavy set of restrictions on wizards and witches who had supported or sympathized with Voldemort.

Draco avoided Azkaban, fulfilling his sentence by paying a hefty fine and doing a year's worth of community service, but was regarded with derision and contempt regardless of his fantastic NEWT scores. He had accepted the offer to return to Hogwarts and finish out his education, studying harder than ever before. However, his opportunities were limited because of the laws and he even found it increasingly difficult to go out in public.

People such as Draco were being treated worse and worse as the Ministry continued to produce laws that discriminated against former Death Eaters. These were a distinct set of rules that all fell under the "Future Promise" set of legislation. Everyone had their sights set upon a new world, but seemed unconcerned with true reformation.

Draco contended with several of the new rule on an everyday basis: he had to adhere to a 10pm curfew; he could not be hired as an Auror, Healer, or Ministry official or employee; and business owners were allowed to refrain from allowing him into their establishments, even to make purchases. There had been talk of a new bill that would restrict the magical ability of former Death Eaters to a fifth-year level. Draco wouldn't have been able to even Apparate then.

Lucius was still in Azkaban for his crimes, a situation to which Draco was indifferent. Without his father's influence, he could have avoided years' worth of suffering. He would have never joined the Dark Lord out of his own inclination. Draco reluctantly admitted that Lucius was his father, but refused to allow him to play any role in the decisions he made now or would make after Lucius was released.

Draco's feelings for Narcissa were a lot clearer: he had always loved her, and would continue to do so. She fought long and hard with her sister Andromeda to apologize for the choices she made in the past, and finally 'Dromeda accepted, resulting in a shaky reconciliation. Narcissa had vacated the Manor right after the war ended, having decided to accept 'Dromeda's offer for her to move in and help raise little Teddy Lupin.

Draco could not accompany his mother, even if he wanted to. It wasn't because 'Dromeda believed he was evil, but because of Future Promise Proclamation #65: "Those formerly affiliated with You-Know-Who shall not, under any circumstances, be allowed to share a residence with minors under the legal age, unless the child in question is their biological son or daughter."

Draco was stung by the law, but he wasn't ready to dedicate his life to childcare anyway. Draco had been content with staying in the Manor for a while, comfortable in the mansion of Malfoy wealth and grandeur. Increasingly, he became tired of the drafty elegance of his surroundings: the Manor was no longer home, especially after all the evil that occurred there. Even more so than past events, Draco could not overlook the fact that the house felt like a prison. With the house elves cooking meals, doing laundry, tidying up, and otherwise running the household, Draco had no reason to leave. And even if he could find one, the harassment he'd occur out in the community was too detrimental for one to bear if not absolutely necessary. He tried to start a small consulting firm, but could find no one who would take his business.

Eventually, Draco not only refused to leave the Manor, he no longer left his room. Narcissa received many worried fire calls from members of the house elf staff, expressing concern for Master Draco and pleas for her to return home and re-energize him. She had quite hoped he would have the drive to conquer the obstacles thrown at him and start a new life as well. Unfortunately, Narcissa's most trusted elf, Ceeley, Apparated to Northpass on Sunday afternoon and told her that Draco was no longer eating or leaving his bed. Disappointed, she finally arranged a visit to the Malfoy Manor.

Draco lay in bed, twirling the fringe of the Indian silk blanket he'd received for his sixteenth birthday. Though he hadn't left his bed for the last 3 days, he had not spent much time actually sleeping. He'd been thinking of what options remained for his future. Draco had tried to adapt to the new world by finishing his education, hoping that high NEWT scores would at least allow him to be considered for a range of positions. However, the new laws in place caused Draco to be seen as a second class citizen to most people, including employers. He wasn't yet sure what he wanted to do as a career, but the only job offer he'd received was to work part-time in a shady dark metals store in Knockturn Alley. He'd refused immediately.

He heard a knock on his door, rising up to shout, "I told you, Ceeley, I'm not coming out! What kind of house elf are you, anyway? Aren't you supposed to listen to your master?"

Thinking that would be the end of her, Draco slammed back down onto his mattress and pushed his palms against his eyes. His head would not stop pounding. Sure, it may have been a while since he last had some food, but there was no reason for a damn ache that wouldn't go away. Actually, Draco couldn't remember what he'd eaten or the last time he'd eaten.

BOOM. Draco jumped, shouting "what the absolute fuck!" as his door flew back on the hinges and slammed into the wall, creating a doorknob sized hole as it penetrated the drywall.

Narcissa sheathed her wand calmly, stepping gracefully into the room. "Hello, Draco," she breathed, wrinkling her nose from the stagnant odor of her brooding son.

Draco was surprised to see her. With one foot already on the floor, no doubt waiting to stomp over and curse Ceeley into oblivion, he stood staring at his mother with his mouth hanging open and a guilty look on his face.

"I haven't come to exchange pleasantries, Draco," Narcissa said coolly, walking over to the windows and flinging open the drapes.

As the warm sunlight hit his face, Draco covered his eyes and moaned darkly to himself. The blinds were opaque enough to keep out unwanted light for the past three days.

For good measure, Narcissa opened the windows as well, letting in the sound of birds chirping and the smell of sweet summer air. "You see, Draco? Life goes on outside of this deathly Manor. Every day, little insignificant creatures are adapting to their new world – unlike you."

Draco pulled his hands away from his eyes, blinking furiously. He gave his mother a withering glare as he reached over to retrieve a half empty bottle of rum from his nightstand, taking a generous swig.

"What am I going to do with you? What can I do with you?" Narcissa asked, looking futilely at Draco.

"Nothing," Draco snarled, gray eyes cold as steel. "This 'new world' is a sham, a façade. I'm nothing to anyone." He took another swallow of the rum, grimacing as it slid down.

In an instance, Narcissa had her wand out and waved it severely. The rum bottle snapped out of Draco's hand and came to a grinding halt in Narcissa's, and she strangled it. "I'd think I wouldn't have to stand here and convince you that I love you, but then again, I never thought I'd have a son hell-bent on destroying the only second chance that he was offered, either."

Draco walked over to stand in front of his mother, gray eyes flashing furiously. "But we all haven't gotten second chances, Mother! You get to move on with your life; you, who have no restrictions on where you cannot work, live, say, or do! You haven't got a Mark, Mother!" He thrust his left forearm towards her chest, pulling down his wrinkled white shirt to reveal a faded Dark Mark. Draco never looked down at his own arm, and this time was not any different.

Narcissa looked, though. In a rare gesture of intimacy, she ran her fingers over Draco's Mark before meeting his eyes. "I know that your path is difficult, son. But I also know that choosing the easy way out only leads to death and destruction. Look at my life, Draco."

Draco started to argue, but something caused him to look down at Narcissa's left hand. There was no wedding ring there. Softening, he asked, "So you're finished with Father, then?"

Narcissa held tightly onto Draco's still-outstretched hand. "Yes, yes I am. I gave so much of myself to that man; my youth, my family, my values."

Intrigued, Draco listened to his mother. She had never spoken before of her relationship with Lucius, but he had long suspected she was unhappy in their marriage.

Narcissa continued, "As you've so bluntly pointed out, I am no Death Eater. That doesn't mean I am free of blame, but I have a chance for a new life. I can only wish you can trust in yourself and embrace the unknown as well."

Draco looked down in shame, again feeling the crushing weight of the Future Promise legislation. He asked, "But how can I bring myself to go out there? Have you kept up with the news? Pansy Parkinson was arrested for disputing the price of a cup of coffee in Diagon Alley the other day."

Narcissa smiled. "I never said your new life had to exist here where such prejudice and intolerance exists. Draco, I know you were brought up a certain way. With certain ideas about the differences between muggles and wizards…"

Immediately, Draco snatched his hand away from his mother and stepped back. He furiously regained his composure and lashed out at his mother. "And what's that supposed to mean? Did you not even believe half the things you led me to believe were true?"

"That's correct," Narcissa admitted, resigned. "I was content with your father's wish to bring you up in accordance to his beliefs on, ahem, certain matters."

"Why?" demanded Draco, boring a hole through Narcissa with his intense gaze.

"I doubted myself," Narcissa said simply. "He was powerful, wealthy, and intimidating – I thought what he decided would be best. Lucius always made it seem like if we raised you with my beliefs in mind as well, then you wouldn't turn out as he envisioned you would."

Draco snorted. If only he'd known what his mother's beliefs were before the age of 18. Maybe then he wouldn't have been in this great mess with a not removable faded black mark.

"What's done is done, Draco," Narcissa admonished. "We can only move forward. I hope you'll be open minded enough to consider my beliefs now."

Draco sighed. She wasn't making this easy on him, but then again, she never did. "And how would these beliefs of yours have any effect on my current position in society?"

Narcissa smiled in a way that made Draco wish he hadn't asked. "Funny you should ask that question."

Knowing he was being dramatic, Draco placed a delicate hand on his forehead, willing his mother not to continue.

She ignored him. "Draco, what if I told you, what I asked you to believe that muggles really aren't so different than wizards?"

Draco cringed. Though his father was not yet dead, Lucius Malfoy would be rolling in his grave if he heard his wife and son having this conversation. Draco tried to remember that he owed his father no loyalty or allegiance.

"I know it's going against years' worth of your father's hateful rhetoric," admitted Narcissa, "but are you a good enough man, maybe not even a good enough one, but a desperate enough one, to change your viewpoint on this matter?"

"Really Mother, now even you're insulting my worth?" asked Draco exasperatedly.

"Perhaps, son, perhaps. You've been given this new chance, but do you deserve it?"

"And how exactly would my views on muggles have anything to do with my life?"

Narcissa again met her son's eyes. "Draco, I know about the Ministry and their Future Promise legislation. I've kept up with all the news. I know about how former Death Eaters are being blatantly discriminated against for no reason. And I agree with you – this new world is not one that welcomes you or even tolerates you."

"Great, so now that we've established that, can I have my rum back?"

"Not so fast," Narcissa chides. "You're not off the hook. The magical community is all you've known. And now because that same community has grown hostile, you feel your life is over."

"Isn't it?"

"Life as you know it is over. But that does not mean there is no hope for your future."

"And where exactly am I going to build a new future? As you've pointed out, this is all I've ever known."

"Draco, is it not obvious?" Narcissa said, tinged with sadness. "You'll have a better chance establishing a new life in the muggle world."
Draco's eyes opened wide in horror, and he started choking, having inhaled the wrong way. "Are you mental?" he gasped in-between coughs. "You think I'd actually have a better chance out there with the muggles? What about my magic? I'd be – I'd lose everything!"

Dryly, Narcissa said, "But haven't you already lost everything that matters to you? Your reputation is ruined, and except for me, those who believed in you are dead or gone. Our family has fallen apart…" She faltered.

He sighed in a subdued way, determined not to appear weak in front of her. Unconsciously, however his eyes fell and he unknowingly ran a hand through his slick blonde hair, ruffling it.

Narcissa pressed her advantage and took him into her arms. "Draco, a mother will always wish what's best for her children. I truly believe that this would be a good thing for you. Better than staying holed up in the Manor drinking bloody rum all day," she adds mischievously.

Draco, who hadn't properly leaned into his mother's embrace for years, hugged her back, and for the briefest moment, buried his head into her shoulder. She ran her hand down his back.

"Nothing is permanent, Draco, and maybe this shift won't have to be. The Ministry might back down to external pressure, if activists start protesting these new ordinances."

Draco snorts. "Fat chance," he says, muffled against her robes.

"Think of it as a chance to reinvent yourself," Narcissa said. "Unless muggles are offended by blond hair, they should have no reason to hate you. You can pursue any field you want."

Draco considered the possibilities as he remained in his mother's embrace.

"Become a better man, Draco," whispered Narcissa. "I never wanted you to be so hateful and violent. Learn how to care for others, and how to love. Not everyone will betray you."

Draco, in a moment of weakness and shame, said "I'll try, Mother" and instantly regretted it. Now he would actually have to think about the prospects when his mind wasn't so warbled.

"Get some rest, son," Narcissa said, leading Draco back to his bed. He lay down with a thoughtful look upon his face, allowing himself to believe that maybe there was a place where he could exist peacefully with others. As peacefully as any Malfoy can, of course.

Though the sunlight was still brightly shining through the window, Draco closed his eyes and, for once, fell asleep without hesitation. His face was peaceful of he dreamed of a better tomorrow, one where he would not be known as Malfoy the former Death Eater.