Chrysalis

Chapter 1

Draco had made a lot of bad choices in his life, but he'd never really considered what they might mean until it was too late. Now he knew more than anything, that following in his father's footsteps was the worst choice he had ever made. At the time, it had seemed the only choice. Malfoys protected Malfoys, and if Lucius was in danger, Draco would do whatever it took to restore his father's status to the Dark Lord. How was he to know that in trying to regain his father's honour, he would loose everything?

In giving himself he had lost his honour, his dignity, and eventually, his freedom.

He'd wondered that whole summer before sixth year, just how his father felt, sitting in Azkaban, alone, abandoned, and friendless. And now he knew. Intimately.

Draco watched as the birds outside his window dove down into the still-icy Northern water to catch their lunch. It felt odd that outside his cell, life went on as always. That there were children somewhere, running, playing...flying. He might have been here only a few months, but it had felt like years. He missed his broom. Missed playing Quidditch. Hell, he missed the challenge of trying to beat Potter to the snitch. Now he wished he hadn't blown off everything sixth year. It would have been nice to have had at least one normal thing that year, when he thought back on it.

He jumped when the cell door shrieked as someone opened it, and turned to see who had entered. The Dementors were gone, but that didn't make Azkaban a happy place. One of the guards stood in the doorway, her wand pointed at Draco.

"What is it?" he asked tonelessly.

"You're to come with me," she said sharply.

Draco nodded. It was probably just another Auror who wanted information about the Manor, or the Dark Lord, or any number of other subjects he'd covered with other Aurors too many times before. It never really changed. Just the faces were different.

The guard waved him in front of her, and he began to move down the passageway, every now and then passing a door, some of which he knew held friends, and even a few family members. Not that he ever saw them. The only people he ever saw were the guards who came to collect him, and the Aurors, who came to interrogate him. Which was why he was so astonished when the guard opened the door to a room that contained two very familiar people. Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini.

Before the door had even closed behind him, he found himself with an armful of sobbing, skinnier-than-normal girl, a dark head buried in his chest. He smoothed a hand down her back to calm her. It felt extraordinarily good to touch someone—anyone—again. He nodded to Blaise. "Did we somehow earn a reprieve?" he asked the other young man.

Blaise shrugged. "Don't know. All I know is that they told me to wait here, then brought Pansy, and now you."

"Maybe someone arranged a Slytherin reunion," Draco said wryly. He examined the other young man closely. His usually dark golden skin was pale and grey looking, and his hair, once a long silken flow of black, looked as though it had not been brushed in months. Draco knew how much it must pain him. It was one of the things they had shared as boys, their impeccable grooming and love of haute couture. "You're looking..."

"Miserable?" Blaise chuckled wryly. "I feel about as bad as you look," he added, eyeing Draco's grey and tattered prison smock.

Draco sniffed. "Yes, these prisons really know nothing about proper fabrics, do they?"

Blaise grinned, and Draco felt a warmth grow in his chest. He'd missed this. The banter between them as Pansy cuddled with him. How could he have been so stupid as to risk it in the first place?

Pansy was still trembling in his arms when a door opened on the opposite side of the room, and a well-dressed gentleman with lank hair and pale eyes entered. "Ah, good, you're all here," he smiled blandly.