Written for Monse. :)

Summary: Draco Malfoy is sentenced to community service at St. Mungo's as punishment for his involvement with the Dark Lord during the war. There he has to deal with the stares and hatred of those who are being treated there. After thinking that it will be the longest year of his life, help comes to him from the least likeliest person ever.

Unbeta-ed

'Look it's the Death Eater.'

'Hey isn't he the kid who murdered Dumbledore?'

'Those Malfoys, disgrace to the Wizarding World they are.'

I tried to ignore the stares and whispers as I walked down the bustling hallways of St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Did these people have nothing do to in their spare time? It was the only wizarding hospital in all of London for Merlin's sake. Wasn't there some dying patient that they were required to tend to?

I had been sentenced to community service here after the war, and at first I had been estatic to find I was not to be imprisoned in Azkaban, until I realised that the latter may well have been better.

There I could have be alone.

There I could have solitude.

There I would go mad.

Who am I kidding?

Azkaban was literally the Wizard version of 'Muggle Hell'; the only difference being that Azkaban was definitely one hundred percent real. But then again, there I wouldn't have to face the families of those that died in the war. Those who died because of a cause that I had supported, albeit not entirely willingly. The amount of remorse I felt for my actions could not be described with words. The same goes with the amount of anger I felt for Voldemort, a.k.a the Dark Lord, a.k.a He - Who - Must - Not - Be - Named - Who - Also - Happened - To - Have - His - Arse - Whipped - By - The - Boy - Who - Lived - Twice.

Here I was wracked with constant guilt and shame as I passed by people I recognised from Hogwarts, people I had once jeered at for being lower than myself. People who's lives had been ruined because there were those out there who had a twisted mind like I had, not too long ago. I didn't miss the glares that they sent me, the way they watched me warily, as if I were to whip out my wand to attack them any second. I recognised the hatred and fear in their faces as I passed them.

Mothers pulled their daughters closer, telling them to beware of me, to beware of the big bad Death Eater, while fathers lectured their sons, warning them of Merlin forbid what would become of them if they embarked on a path bearing any similarity to mine.

I turned the corner, my eyes fixed to the ground infront of my feet, not wanting to meet the gaze of anyone who likely despised my very presence.

'I'm scared to think of how many people he's killed.'

'I wonder if he's still got his dark mark?'

'What in Merlin's name is he doing here? He's going to murder us all.'

I was surprised I hadn't tried to have myself admitted to the Mental Ward for loons after months of this sheer torture.

Sighing, my thoughts return to the clipboard I held in my hands. Patients and Healers alike thought that the Wizengamot was mad for sentencing me here. What if I poisoned everyone in the hospital, or murdered the healers so that they couldn't save any of those in need?

Despite the fact that they were bad mouthing me, I partially, yes, only partially, agreed with their comments that were targeted towards this particular topic. Who in their right mind would place an ex - Death Eater in a place where others were most vulnarable?

I wasn't about to pull out my wand and hex or curse everyone within a 5 mile vicinity for Merlin's sake. Well, not that I could even if I wanted to, which I definitely did not. The aurors had already taken my wand off me, well they actually got it from Potter, and then took my mother's off me, and made sure that I would not receive access to another.

Well, back to life here at St. Mungos. I've been here about, nine months, which left me another fifteen months before I would be released from this. I worked from eight in the morning till seven at night. I had been assignted the gruelling task of visiting which ever patient they required me to, and collect their food preferences for the duration of their stay. I honestly think it is a pathetic job. Most of the patients that I visit give me a string of curse words and kick me out of the room before I can open my bloody mouth.

There were a long list of patients I had to visit today, all either freshly emitted, or patched up enough for them to partake in the activity we know as eating. There were approximately fourty-five minutes until lunch, and I was already falling behind schedule. There were messy checkmarks next to the first few names and room numbers on the list, and notes on their food preferences. I was up to number sixteen on the list, one Ms. Ginevra Molly Potter nee Weasley.

I hadn't seen her since she was huddled over her brothers death bed in the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts. She and Potter had tied the knot right after, their wedding photos splayed across the front cover of the Daily Prophet, right above the article about the gracious pardon my family had received.

According to the notes I had been given regarding patient details in the case of an emergency, she had been injured in a quiddith match and completely shattered her right arm and leg, which were currently being regrown. Chances were Potter was in there with her, and I had no idea what I would say to my childhood nemesis, the one who had saved my family from Azkaban.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts as I reached her door. Raising my hand, I quickly rapped my knuckles on the door three times, and waited till I heard her say 'come in' before I opened the door.

Just my bloody luck. Weasley lay propped up in the bed, surrounded by flowers, chocolates, and other things you'd find at one's sick bed, presumably from her abnormally large family and all her overly obsesssed fans. Her 'loving' husband, dear old Potter was holding one of her hands, and both seemed alarmed to see me. Well who wouldn't be?

'Malfoy, what the hell are you doing here?' he shouted, immediately rising to his feet, wand drawn, ready to hex me at any second.

'Harry James Potter, if you don't put that wand down this instant, I full well have access to mine.' came an angry voice from the woman beside him.

Begrudgingly, he lowered his wand and tucked it back into his robes.

'In case you forgot Potter, you're the one who suggested I participate in community service to attone for my sins.' I bit back sharply, sending a glare in his direction.

His eyes widened ever so slightly as he remembered the trial. It was one event that most of the Wizarding World were still gossiping about, even after the amount of time that had passed.

Ignoring the Golden Boy, I turned my attention back to his firey wife, both in personality and hair colour.

'Err, Mrs. Potter, if I could please have your food choices for the week?'

She bit her lip slightly, and gave me a horridly long list of things she'd prefer to eat. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I scrawled down the information she provided me with an old quill.

'Thank you for your time Mrs. Potter.' I told her sincerely, before exiting the room.

What is wrong with me? Why am I being so 'nice' to people now? I didn't even make fun of Potter. I bet Grandfather Abraxas is rolling in his grave.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door:

'What's wrong with him? Why is he being so nice to people now? He didn't even make fun of me. I bet his ancestors are rolling their graves.'

I rolled my eyes at my husband.

'Is it so wrong he is acting civil?'

'Ofcourse!' Harry practically shouted.

'Harry.'

'Ok, I take that back. The whole point of having him here doing this is so he'll be nicer to people.'

'Well he better have changed by now.'

'He seems to have, but I thought it would have taken atleast another four or five months. It might be an act.'

'Well it better not be an act!' I practically shouted.

He looked at me bewildered.

'Harry! I can't believe you don't remember! You know she just finished her training for her internship as a healer. And you know what? She starts here tomorrow.'