Authors Note: The characters in this story go through a series of development and changes. The pace is slow and steady. I promise, you'll love it and it's totally worth the wait :) Draco doesn't stay like this forever. And remember that ultimately, this is a romance, not a tragedy.

Chapter One: Proud

Everything should have ended. Yet here he was, breathing in, breathing out. He knew his heart was beating. It was probably hammering against his ribcage. However, he felt a void. A heavy, dark weight lingered against his chest where he should feel his heartbeat. It was as though a Dementor had put its hand inside his chest, and wrapped its fingers around his heart. The cold ran so deep it became numbness, nothingness.

Yet, here he lay, heart beating, lungs breathing, body betraying the mind. Light suddenly hit his face. His eyes opened. Hard silver eyes met cold grey stone. He turned his eyes to the high window, where the dawning sun streaked through the thick metal bars. He could hear the rush of the water far below, the sound of the birds. He could taste the salt on the air.

Draco sat up slowly, turning his eyes to the floor of his cell. This had been his home almost since the end of the war. All of the remaining Death Eaters had been arrested following Harry Potter's victory over the Dark Lord. Trials were being organized at top speed. Draco didn't know much beyond that. He had spent most of his time here, locked away in solitary confinement.

The first week Draco had been to Azkaban, the Death Eaters had careful eyes on his family. Their fallout with the Dark Lord had been well known. Whispers and rumors of their true allegiance began to spread. It was soon no secret that Narcissa's failure to correctly identify Potter as dead, had resulted in the ultimate demise of their Lord.

The family chose to sit together, interacting with no one, speaking nothing. Lucius and Narcissa would not touch each other, would not speak. They remained proud and proper. Each day they sat there, backs tall, well groomed, hands folded on the table. Draco sat next to his mother in stony silence day after day. He could feel the fury bubbling in those around them; the threats buried in the glances and sneers.

Hostility began to seep through the cold stones. It began with Lucius. The days passed slowly. He would arrive to meals, new bruises and scars visible on his face and arms. Most guards did nothing. Death Eaters taking care of their own, it seemed, did not create cause for alarm.

Narcissa had pursed her lips the first day he had appeared at their table this way. She remained stony and silent, hands folded neatly in front of her. It only got worse. Every day, Lucius appeared with a new wound, a new bruise, looking more and more battered as the old marks began to fade beneath the new ones. However, he remained unbroken, back tall.

Draco sneered slightly in his mind. The Dark Lord had been the only one capable of breaking his father. Surely his Death Eaters knew they were nothing compared to him?

Rodolphus Lestrange had been the fool to go after his mother.

Draco remembered it clearly. She was late. Lucius and Draco both sat in their stony silence, uncomfortable with the broken routine, but remaining aloof in the eyes of those around them. When Narcissa finally arrived to breakfast that morning, her eye swollen, bruises around her throat, the air seemed to freeze in Draco's lungs. She took her seat silently at Draco's side, folding her hands in front of her. Draco could see her knuckles were bloody and scratched, her nails broken.

Then he looked at his father. Lucius had gone rigid. His silver eyes locked to hers. Draco felt a sudden flicker of power between them. Legilimency and Occlumency. Narcissa closed her eyes, throwing up mental shields. His family had learned this skill through force while the Dark Lord had stayed with them. Occlumency was the only thing that kept his mother alive during that time. She had been against the war long before Lucius and Draco. They had all learned Legilimency for the sake of their survival. It had come suddenly and easily to all of them that last year in the Manor.

His father silently coaxed his mother to let down her shields. A single tear ran down her face. Draco stepped into the memory with his Father, both staring at his mother.

A hand went over her mouth. She tried to scream, nails digging into a thick arm. A man growled in her ear. Her back was slammed against a wall, a second hand came up to her throat, squeezing there, choking her into silence. The cruel eyes of Rodolphus Lestrange leered at her in the darkness.

"How much longer do you think you'll be safe here, dear Cissy?" He mocked the old pet name to her face. "You, or that pathetic excuse for a husband, or your blood-traitor of a son?" His eyes narrowed dangerously, "You cost me my wife…"

Narcissa bit him. Rodolphus pulled his hand away, then his fist slammed against her face, and she toppled to the floor. A pair of guards came around the corner, their wands suddenly in their hands. Rodolphus was struck in the back with a stunning spell. Narcissa had her head in her arms, trembling.

Draco and his Father came out of the memory at the same moment. Lucius reached a hand out to her and held her face gently in his hand. He wiped a tear away with his thumb. Lucius stood, calmly walking to the guard at the gate. Draco didn't hear the words. He didn't see beyond the second tear sliding down his mother's face.

Blood began to pound in his ears. Sensation swam through his body. He was overwhelmed with emotion. His vision seemed to turn red. Draco remembered standing. He remembered Rodolphus' expression when Draco's hands found his throat, thumbs reaching for his cruel dark eyes. He remembered the first piercing scream as hot blood began to flow between his fingers.

Then the next thing Draco knew, he was lifting his head groggily, the world spinning around him. He knew this feeling. He'd been stunned. He was sitting, bound in chains, blood covering his hands and arms. There was no clarity in his memories.

Ever since that moment, he'd been here. How long had he been sealed away in this solitary confinement? Time had lost meaning. He felt a sickening jolt at the memory of his mother's bruised face. Lucius deserved to be here. Draco deserved to be here. Narcissa did not.

The wall formed a thick metal door. There was an echoing creak as it opened suddenly and unexpectedly. Draco blinked slightly at the change, wondering if he were hallucinating.

Harry Potter stood in the doorway, hand on the door, two wands in his hands. He threw one across the room. Draco caught it deftly between his fingers. Warmth from his wand shivered up his arm, invading the hollowness in his chest, swallowed quickly by the strange numbness. His silver eyes locked to Potter's green ones. A million questions swam through his mind all at once, but only one thing mattered.

"What's happened to my mother, Potter?" Draco's unused voice cracked several times as he tried to speak.

"Narcissa has been out for a while now. Almost your entire time in solitary," Harry replied quietly, tightening his grasp on the doorknob. "She's waiting for you."

"My Father?" he inquired further.

"Sentenced to two year house arrest," Harry replied calmly, putting both hands in his pockets. He snorted lightly, "Lucius made quite a few heavy handed donations to get him and your mother out of here." Harry's mouth thinned slightly. "He's also been stripped of his title as head of Malfoy house."

Accepting the answers, Draco slowly lifted his wand, lying flat in his hand, raising an eyebrow. He wordlessly asked about himself with the gesture.

Harry inhaled through his nose and exhaled slowly, "You've been cleared of all charges, Malfoy. We're going back to the auror office now."

Relief briefly sank through Draco, again disappearing the moment that it struck the strange void in his chest, replaced with a powerful self-loathing.

I don't deserve this. They should leave me here to rot. He closed his eyes to breathe in, then out. He wanted to lean forward, to rest his head in both hands momentarily. Strange and jumbled emotions lit his insides, some fading into the void, others tightening his throat. Malfoys were proud. The Dark Lord had been the only to break their family. He would not allow another to do it, ever again.

His mask of boredom fell back in place, mental walls went up, his coldness clicked in his silver eyes. Draco stood calmly, pocketing his wand. He ran a hand through his long hair, pushing it from his face, back tall. Harry motioned with his head to follow him in the hall. Draco didn't move for a moment. Proud or not, there was something that needed to be said.

"Thank you," Draco spoke, his voice surprisingly strong. Black eyebrows shot up into a jumbled mess of black hair. Green eyes went wide in shock at the words. Once upon another lifetime, the look would have made Draco sneer. Now however, he felt like a shell of his former self. Silently, Potter turned, and Draco followed.