A/N: Hey there! This is my very first fanfic! I'm an avid reader of others' work and finally was driven enough to try it on my own. Please REVIEW! (This first Chapter is a little short but I think it gives enough detail on where I want to story to lead. All italics are thoughts by the focused on character)

Chapter 1- Lost

The sun had finally started to break on the horizon above the distant trees. Long fingers of light crept across the ground to reach for her. But, as that warm light caressed her skin, Hermione Granger still felt nothing. She was numb. Not from the cold of walking the meadows surrounding the Burrow in the wee hours of the morning. This came from deep within her.

The War had finally ended several months before at Hogwarts. In the months since, there was a swarm of mixed emotions through the entire wizarding community. Relief of it being over, and grief for all the loved ones and friends that had been lost were the most prominent. But there was an undertone of determination and resilience to rebuild.

As the months continued, Hermione's relief waned. Her grief, though still present, had faded to a dull ache of acceptance. Her dreams however, still haunted her, not ever really letting her move on.

She had woken from another fitful night. Flashes of Fred lying lifeless, Basalisk fangs, snakes beheaded, and Voldemort standing over Harry triumphantly plaugued her every night. The worst of all, was the evil cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange. The pain surged through her every nerve as she slept just as it had that night in the Manor.

She had awoken with a loud painful thump onto her bedroom floor. She must have been flailing in her sleep again. She sighed heavily peaking over at a still sleeping Ginny. Drool was slowly trickling out of Ginny's mouth as she mumbled and twitched in her sleep. Hermione selfishly took comfort that she wasn't the only one unable to sleep soundly. Knowing she was incapable of sleep, she had decided to walk off the nightmares.

She had walked among the fields and meadows for what felt like hours. It was probably true, since she never bothered looking at the clock before she left. Hermione had finally come to a realization as the sun crept over the trees. She had lost her purpose. The war was over. Her self-proclaimed mission to help Harry defeat Voldemort was over. So now what? The community had started rebuilding around her. But what did Hermione want?

The grief, shock, and anxiety of being involved in the war had left her completely empty. There was one thing she only really felt…

Lost.

She fondly remembered the girl she used to be. Intelligent, determined, and completely sure of herself.

"Where was she now?" she wondered to herself sighing.

She glanced back at the Burrow. Knowing her adoptive family would be waking soon, she started to head back. She paused at that thought. Adoptive... She wasn't an orphan. Her parents were warm and happy when she had seen them last month. She had traveled all the way to Australia to find them, fully intending to reverse her memory charm.

But seeing them, happily throwing a dinner party with new friends in the garden, she couldn't bring herself to make her presence known. She just watched quietly from the shadows. Her father grilling steaks, her mother giving him a quick squeeze from behind as she walked past to get more refreshments.

They were happy. No need to plague them with the realization of what had happened the past year. They didn't need to be bombarded with worry over a clearly broken daughter. And with tears silently streaming down her cheeks... Hermione had turned away to let them be happy.

Thinking about them again had caused the tears to pickle the corners of her eyes. Forcing them back, she sighed again heavily.

"You know they are happy." She told herself. "That we have to be enough for now, even if you aren't."

Bang!

The gavel made it final. Draco Malfoy was a convicted Death Eater. But to many people's surprise, Draco would not be returning to Azkaban. He was probably more surprised than anyone. It was well known that his family (ahem, father) had been some of the most dedicated followers of the Dark Lord. His home had been a headquarters for his cronies. He had been privy to their evil plots. He had witnessed brutal murders and creative tortures and had done nothing to stop them. He had tried to murder one of the greatest and most respected wizards of all time. He should have been doomed.

"I deserve it" he thought with loathing.

It had been looking to be the case. Even after his mother's testimony that he had become a Death Eater, to save his, his mother's, and his father's life. Voldemort had been so upset with Lucius' performance, and had demanded more commitment from the family. Denying him, would have held the greatest of consequences. His mother continued babbling, trying to save her only son, but Draco started getting lost in his own thoughts.

Looking back, Draco wasn't sure if he could have done it again. Death would have been easier. Azkaban had given him time to truly see it. As soon as he had been dragged into that place, all happiness drained out of him. (Not that there had been much to begin with.) As the bars slammed behind him he was left to himself, plus the screams and cackling of the deranged and insane, to think about all of the atrocities he had witnessed. His father reduced to simpering in front of the Dark Lord. Dumbledore falling off the balcony of his tower. That poor Muggle Studies teacher tortured above his head at the dining table. A room filled with flames and his friend screaming. All these and more played over and over in his mind. But more than anything. He saw her.

Granger. Sprawled on the Dark wood floor of the Manor. Deep guttural screams pouring from her no matter how much it looked like she tried holding back. His deranged aunt pinning her down as she carved the same word he had called her numerous times into her arm.

He didn't really understand why that one had gotten to him the most. Maybe because he had known her? Hated her? Had been jealous of her? Had caused his own pain to her? Her screams were still echoing in his head as his attention was called back to the present by a loud yell, "Next witness!"

Draco's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die slowly took the stand.

"Mr. Potter, you claim to have in your possession a memory relating to Draco Malfoys forced involvement as a Death Eater."

"Yes. I have the memory of Severus Snape. Known spy for the Order of the Phoenix."

"Place it in the pensive if you please."

The courts pensive was quite large. Taking up a majority of the courtroom floor. You could hear a few gasps around the room as Dumbledore and Severus Snape's shapes took form...

"Protect the boy Severus."

"Sir, if he doesn't do this he is as good as dead."

"I know, but I fear worse will happen to his soul if he does. That's why you need to do it for him. His choices are being made for him... Protect the boy... Be the one to kill me Serverus... Please."

"Draco has already accepted the mission. I worry I cannot successfully intervene."

"I know you will find a way, you always do."

"As much as this is touching, Mr. Potter. It does not absolve Mr. Malfoy of all the crimes before him."

"I know Sir." He quickly added. "However, it does show that it was known that Malfoy was not acting under his own actions. It was believed from the beginning by Dumbledore and the Order that Malfoy was being manipulated into his actions."

"Hmmm..."

" I also have in my possession Malfoys wand. And after being examined by the Aurors here at the Ministry, no unforgivable or truly dark curses have been committed by this wand."

The silence of the room broke into hushed mutters. Draco couldn't believe what was happening before his eyes. POTTER WAS DEFENDING HIM! He couldn't help but look at him in disbelief. Harry had caught his gaze. He returned it with a nearly undetectable shrug. The slightest smirk pulling at his mouth as discussions erupted around the room.

"Mr. Malfoy. Upon further deliberation. This court finds you guilty of being a Death Eater. You claimed allegiance to Voldemort. You were privy to their plots and information, never turning over your knowledge to the proper authorities. You took part in the events leading to your Headmaster's death, letting veteran Death Eaters into your school. However, since no true crimes were committed directly by yourself... you are hereby sentenced to: one year without a wand and 5 years of strict probation. Let's hope your own choices are better."

Bang!

Emotions, which Malfoy had been voided of for months, came crashing down on him like giant waves on a rocky shore. Relief, shock, gratitude overwhelmed him. Narcissa rushed to him, practically flinging herself at him. As Draco hugged her, he buried his face in her hair and did something he hadn't done in a very long time... He cried.

Draco had gotten the second chance he never imagined possible. But now he had no idea where to start.