Marwah is an island off the Arabian Sea, it's shores are pale gold and the waters clear aqua gently massage the sands. The island was like many others, there was an affluent area awash with a Palace of ivory and gold, lavish mansions overlooking the aqua waters. And then there were slums, houses moulded out of packed mud, no electricity or running water.

But this city was magical, governed by soldiers who limited everyone's magical use by their financial status. If you were poor you were allowed to use your wand once a day, if you were wealthy…well the possibilities were close to endless.

The King Izaiah and Queen Mariah had ruled for over fifty years, they had a son Prince Jarrett and a daughter Princess Samira. Marwah was ruled peacefully until the murder of the Queen Mariah, plunging the Kingdom into grief. The Kingdom watched on as their King raised his two teenagers and ruled a country. Until two years after the Queen's death a new woman appeared by his side, their step Queen.

"Queen Alexia, and this is where Marwah begins it's decline," Draco spoke croakily, he took a sip of water, sweat trickling on his forehead.

The trio stood on top of a three storey building, chunks of it's walls crumbling into dust. This was their home in Marwah until their Ministry pulled them out. The rooftop was dusty but a beautiful view of the city distracted them from their shabby surroundings. The sky was a clear cornflour blue and the wind was warm, their pale English skin already tingling with the sun's burn.

"The King lost all interest in his Kingdom when Alexia stepped on the scene, his eldest son took off ashamed by his father for replacing his Mother. The younger sister Princess Samira paid the price for her brother's leave and is now confined to the Palace."

"King Izaiah never went looking for his son?" Hermione asked.

"He was too busy instilling the new laws of his Kingdom, splitting the country into factions; the centre of town is faction one – one spell allowed per day, where we are is faction three – three spells allowed per day and it goes on five, seven, nine and finally the Palace which is infinite."

"How can they possibly monitor it?" Hermione looked doubtful.

"They made an early example of those who broke the rules, public hanging's, beheading, incredibly old fashioned but nonetheless it drove the point home. The country's law enforcement is led by Captain Vlad, his soldiers patrol the streets and perform random spot checks on wand usage."

"And our Ministry does nothing?" Hermione said aghast.

"What can our Ministry do?" Harry replied, "they have their own legal system. What I'd like to know is why did the Ministry send us here to meet with you Draco, an Unspeakable?"

Draco cleared his throat, "you both know that Unspeakables have been tracking down any remaining Death eaters and associates of Voldemort's?"

Harry and Hermione nodded.

"The last known sighting of my parents was here approximately three weeks ago, I've been trying to locate them but have had no luck, I asked the ministry to allow their top Auror's to go undercover and help me find them and bring them back to the Ministry."

"Oh Draco, you've been here three weeks and haven't found them?" Hermione said sympathetically.

He nodded, his pale complexion was now golden brown from weeks in the Arabian sun, his hair was a dark brown and cut close to his skull.

"Why would they come here, where they can do limited magic?" Harry asked.

"The island is so isolated, I believe they think we'd never look for them here. I've checked the wealthier parts of the island and no luck."

"If they really wanted to disappear the slums are probably a good place to start," Hermione offered.

"I can't imagine the Malfoy's slumming it in these mud huts," Harry answered.

"I couldn't imagine my parents doing a lot of the things that they did but they did them and I know they'll do whatever it takes to save their own skin," Draco's grey eyes almost looked sad, he snapped out of it quickly, "here are your identities and your transformations."

Harry took his parchment, "Dante? A bachelor living with his sister and husband, candle maker?"

"We moved here for a simple life and to get away from the hustle and bustle," Draco explained.

"Thalia," Hermione read, "home duties?"

"Sorry Hermione," Draco showed a flicker of a smile, "it's very traditional here. I also wouldn't advise leaving the apartment after dark."

Hermione pursed her lips, bursting to voice her opinion on women's rights under the Marwahian laws.

"I thought it best to be married to Hermione given the behaviour of Ginny," Draco respectfully averted his gaze.

"We split up," Harry admitted.
"Oh…sorry to hear that," he cleared his throat, "I've already told neighbours my wife and brother in law are joining me."

"That's fine, best not to say anything to Ron about this," Harry gave Hermione a significant look, knowing her ginger haired boyfriend would boil over if he knew his old school enemy was undercover as Hermione's husband.

"HALT!"

A thick voice shouted from the streets below, two shirtless soldiers in red harem pants pointed their wands at a bony man cowering behind his fruit stall. The trio watched other stall holders and customers retreat. What was a bustling marketplace had become deserted in a matter of seconds.

"How many spells have you cast today?" The shorter soldier boomed.

The bony man's voice trembled, "f-f-four, my wife she is ill she needed cooling from her fever."

"You're a faction three?"

He nodded, unable to speak.

With a wave of his wand the terrified man's head was sliced off and rolled into the middle of the street. His brightly coloured fruit now spattered with dark red blood, people screamed including Hermione and Harry felt the air leave his lungs, he gripped Hermione's hand.

Draco's voice was dark as he watched the man's head roll into the street.
"Welcome to Marwah."