December 2001

It’s been two years since Draco has freed from his sentence, 20 to 80 years in Azkaban.

But he has been willing to work with the Ministry of Magic as an Auror, helping them with dark obstacles and mysteries still present after the war four years ago.

You went through all of it with him.

The secret he kept from the Dark Lord.

You were safe behind the strong walls he had built up if Voldemort would have ever searched his mind, searched for his weakness.

He kept you hidden.

But you never gave up on him. Helping him through the times he hated his Dark Mark so much he would slice off the tattooed skin only for it to appear the next day again, the impact of having to torture and go into wizard’s and witches’s minds.

The guilt of having pointed his own wand at your former Headmaster.

You were always there, watching, your own parents Death Eaters too.

Your father is rotting in his cell next to Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban. Your mother is recovering from the ‘emotional impact’ at home in her mansion.

Unlike Draco, you were released almost immediately after the war has ended. You were only a witness to the crimes being committed by the Death Eaters.

Draco wasn’t though but people spoke up for him and he got released too.

He was just a boy.

Draco managed to completely difference himself from his father’s actions.

From the money that he got from the inheritance, he started a business at young nineteen years old. His last name is well known around the Wizarding World. He got partners, investors and members, he moved out of the Manor, providing for both of you.

“Your business got you bored, or what?”

Draco looks up when he sees you walking into his office. It’s a bit messier than usual. Not only the desk but his blonde hair is sticking out everywhere as if he had raked a hand through it quite often. There aren’t business plans in front of him though. Files of the Ministry are placed all around his office. He even made some kind of board on the wall.

“The Ministry needed some help with something and I volunteered”, Draco replies, avoiding your gaze as he makes space for the cup of tea you have in your hands. The china clinks as you place it down.

“Don’t burn yourself out.” You hand brushes away the loose locks on his forehead and he releases a soft breath, shoulders sagging.

“I’m not.”