Chapter one

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This is chapter one, the first three chapters will serve as introduction, we'll se what Draco has done after the trials and how he's come to do what he does now, the story will officially start with chapter four.

Have a good time reading and let me know in the comments what you think.

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Being a hit-wizard is not easy.

Being a hit-wizard and Draco Malfoy is even worse.

It's hard work, without a regular schedule that usually has him working several consecutive sleepless nights, when he gets closer to a target, but he doesn't mind it, that's not the problem. It isn't the morality of the job either, turns out that, when faced with someone who deserves it, Draco has no qualms about taking a life. There could be a long and fruitless discussion about the rightness of killing people and what it means if someone deserves to die, but that isn't Draco's problem, is it? There are laws that state the rules and people who decide who needs to be killed, Draco is just the weapon they use and he's a bloody good one.

No, the problem with his job is not the job per se, the problem is that no one can know about it and that's what Draco doesn't like.

He understands it though and has come to accept it in the last few years.

-*-*-*-

In the year following the end of the war, life had been difficult for Draco, he had been released from custody after the charges against him had been dropped, thanks to Potter's testimony, of which Draco would be forever grateful, even if he would never admit it. But that had left him alone in an empty Manor, with too much time and money and no one to share them with.

His parents hadn't been as lucky, though Potter had testified for his mother too, she had still been sentenced to 10 years in Azkaban, which was nothing compared to what his father had gotten.

The Dementor's kiss hadn't been an option anymore after the new Minister Shacklebolt had gotten rid of them, unfortunately, they had still needed an equal kind of punishment for the worst criminals, which was why, a month after the end of the war and just a week before the start of the Death Eaters trials, a new law had been implemented, stating the replacement of the Dementor's kiss with the capital punishment. Not a major improvement in any way, instead of sucking out people's souls, they just killed them off and delivered their bodies to the families.

Lucius Malfoy had been the first lucky tester of the new law, after just a day of deliberation the Wizengamot had decided that his crimes, which had consisted of multiple murders of both wizards and muggles, torture and kidnapping, along with letting the Dark Lord himself live in his house, had been too much, even for a life sentence in prison.

On the morning of the first of August, Lucius Malfoy's body had been delivered to Malfoy Manor in a plain wooden casket by a couple of gleeful Aurors.

Draco had made the house-elves place the coffin in the mausoleum on the Manor's grounds, not seeing the need for a ceremony since his mother was in prison and he hadn't wanted to say goodbye to the man who hadn't been his father for a very long time.

Effectively parentless, and with a life-ban from contacting any of his old Slytherin friends, not that he thought he had any left to write to anyway, Draco had started a deep cleansing of the Manor. The placed had reeked of Dark magic and Draco had spent the better part of the next year going through every single room, getting rid of the cursed objects and magic residues. After the job was done, what was left was the empty shell of the house Draco had known as a child, happy memories mingled with horrible ones, filling his dreams and waking moments.

It hadn't taken long before Draco had been done with it and, instructing the elves to keep the place in order until the return of his mother, he'd sealed the gates and bought a flat in muggle London.

The flat had been bare when he moved, and Draco had taken great pleasure in choosing the new furniture and picking the colours for the walls. Wanting to blend with the muggle world and actually get to know it, he'd bought as many muggle appliances as he could find, learning to use every single one of them, although not without a few mistakes along the way.

Though the flat wasn't big by any stretch of the imagination, it was enough for Draco. He had a kitchen, a living room, a study and a bedroom with a connected bathroom.

At twenty, two years after the war, Draco Malfoy had disappeared from the wizarding world and had started a new life in the muggle one. He didn't work, he didn't need to with the money in his vault, so he spent his time reading and visiting the muggle world, he still used his wand at home, but he usually could do everything even without it. At night, he went to the numerous clubs in the city, coming home with one and sometimes two willing muggles, male or female didn't make a difference, the sex was good either way and that was enough for him.

At twenty Draco Malfoy, if asked, would have said that his life was good, plain but enjoyable. He hadn't felt the need for something more until the evening he had come home from his evening walk in the park to find an owl sitting on his windowsill, a letter tied to his leg.

He never received post, he didn't have anyone to talk to in the wizarding word, he was allowed two yearly visit to his mother in Azkaban, but no mail and the ban prevented him from reaching out to any of his old acquaintances if he wanted to avoid being arrested, thus making the owl a very strange occurrence.

He had opened the window and retrieved the letter bearing the Ministry crest with trembling fingers, dreading the news that could come with it, but he had been surprised, the short missive explained that the Minister of Magic himself had requested a private meeting with him and that he was asked to come to a specified place at the requested time.

Seeing more trouble in avoiding the summon, Draco had met Kingsley Shacklebolt in a muggle coffee shop on the other side of London the next morning.

The offer he had been given that day had had the potential of changing his life and giving him a chance of redeeming himself. He had accepted, obviously.

Seven years later, Draco Malfoy still lives in the same flat in muggle London, still goes on walks in the park and visits the muggle word, this time around though, he has a job, one that no one knows about.

Being a hit-wizard isn't easy.

Being a hit-wizard when no one knows you are one, is much more difficult.

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