A/N I don't usualy write Authors notes but I thought I should explain this one a bit. I uploaded this to my deviantart account ages ago, it's the exact same story as chapter one just from 'Tom Spinks' P.O.V. And I don't think I'll be writing any more of this story since my Harry Potter obsession is pretty much over :( so you can pretty much see this story as a one-shot.

I'm going to shut up now and let you read and enjoy (Or not) the story.

It was early afternoon by the time he Apparated at Hogsmeade, pulling the hood of his thick black traveling cloak further over his face to completely conceal his identity.

The cold didn't bother him much, he'd been in colder places during the last two years, but he wasn't keen on being recognized. He quickly looked round, as if expecting to be attacked at any moment.

Once he was satisfied that no one he knew, or anyone looking for him, had seen him, he started off towards somewhere that no one would question his odd clothing style: The Hog's Head.

He couldn't help smiling slightly under his hood as he drank his Firewhiskey silently in a dark corner of the seedy bar, still careful not to reveal his identity. He was right about the clothing styles; he was one of the more normal-looking ones in this place. Quite a few of the other occupants were also keen to hide their identities; some faces were completely covered in black bandages, while others wore hats with thick, dark veils concealing their faces.

How had he ended up like this? Hiding from the world and forced to dwell in shady places.

Years ago he'd had a bright future, he'd been heir to a wealthy and respected family, and now look where he was! He took another swallow of his Firewhiskey and his face darkened. Who was he kidding? The Malfoys hadn't ever been respected - they were feared.

His life was like this now because of them, they raised him to be who he was. They raised him not to be tolerant of others of his kind, to despise those with impure blood, the mudbl - muggle-borns. All witches and wizards are equal, no matter what the blood status of their family is. He knew that now.

If only he'd known that then, he might have been able to change everything. He might not have fulfilled his mission three years ago, the battle of Hogwarts might not have happened.

He let out a sigh and shook his head. It was his guilt convincing him of this; he hadn't killed Albus Dumbledore, Snape did, and he would have done it regardless of whether Draco was there or not.

Finishing his bottle, he walked over to the bathroom.

Draco hated his pale reflection, it reminded him too much of his father. His white-blond hair had grown long enough for him to tie it back in a loose ponytail, but the shorter strands still framed his face and draped over his forehead. His silver eyes seemed darker than they used to be; dulled by things he'd seen and done.

He took a hip flask out of his bag and quickly took a few gulps of the thick liquid that he'd been brewing for the last month. Every inch of his body seemed to burst as he felt the potion spread round his body, and it took a lot of his self-control not to cry out in pain.

Sinking to the floor, he managed to cast a silencing charm on the bathroom, just in case. His skin was bubbling as if suddenly covered in painful blisters and his hair retracted back into his scalp, letting the loose hair tie fall to the floor, useless. As the pain subsided he pulled himself to his feet, looking at his new reflection in the mirror.

He looked about the same age, but his hair was now thick and curly, with dark ginger bangs slightly obscuring his eyes, which were now a bright amber colour. He was shorter than usual but still quite tall for his age.

This boy seemed healthier than Draco. His skin was not as pale as the young ex-Death Eater's, and was broken only by the burst of freckles that had appeared across the bridge of his nose. He immediately reminded himself of a Weasley, but he didn't waste too much time staring at his reflection; he'd used it too many times to be surprised by it.

Pulling up his hood to hide his new face he swept out of the pub and into the streets of Hogsmeade. He didn't see the need to browse the shops, he didn't require anything and he'd always tried to travel light.

He hadn't set foot in Hogsmeade for at least four years, but everything still seemed the same as ever. The wind blew his hood back from his face, but he didn't care, no one would recognize him now. He slowly walked forwards towards the entrance to the little village and stared up at the place he'd called home for six years of his life.

He felt his own guilt holding him back from getting nearer to it, the last time he'd seen the magnificent castle was when his treachery had been revealed; he'd joined Voldemort in front of everyone.

His breath seemed to turn into ice in his throat. Hogwarts looked amazing, now cleared of all the debris from the battle, but still showing 'scars' from that terrible fight. He had to force his breathing to return to normal as he reached the gate, slouching against a tree and just staring at the one place he'd ever truly felt safe. He had no idea how long he stood there, gazing at the ancient school.

It wasn't until she moved to put her sweet wrapper in the bin that he noticed her. He had been so engrossed in his old school that he'd failed to even see her there, not wanting to draw attention to himself he continued to stare forwards, trying to study her through his peripheral vision.

She had long brown hair pulled into a tight bushy ponytail. He could sense her staring at him. There was something familiar about her. Maybe she'd been at school with him, she looked about the right age.

Having no idea how long he'd been stood there, he quickly took another swig of Polyjuice Potion from his flask to make sure the effects wouldn't wear off under her gaze.

Turning to look at her, his heart sank. He realized who she was and she most definitely went to school with him. She may have been older then he remembered, and in Draco's opinion a lot prettier - she was wearing makeup and her hair was no longer quite as bushy - but there was no mistake: the girl standing there was definitely Hermione Granger.

He glanced back at Hogsmeade for a moment. Maybe it would be better if he just left now, but he couldn't leave. He felt like he needed to apologize to her… for everything. His eyes flicked to the top of her arm where he knew the scar would be. The term that was so offensive to her, did he really used to taunt her with that word? Mudblood.

"Have you seen the Obelisk?" His soft, deep voice surprised him, momentarily forgetting that it wasn't his own. His words seem to snap Hermione out of her thoughts and her eyes suddenly brightened as she was woken from her daydream.

"Oh!" Her cheeks turned a light pink colour and she shook her head quickly.

He turned back to look at the castle and gestured to the black monument that sparkled within the grounds in the distance.

"It honours all those who died in battle." Draco closed his eyes and mentally read what he could remember from the newspaper article. "'May we live in the knowledge that there is always hope, and those who died shall live on in our memories and our hearts as long as hope survives' ...I hear that there's one in the entry hall for those who fought." He added, turning his attention back to the young woman he used to bully. "It's amazing how three witches and wizards, barely of age, managed to win the war. Isn't it, Granger?"

She was caught off guard by the sudden use of her last name. He mentally cursed himself, everyone called her Hermione, he was the only one who ever called her by her last name.

"How…?"

He smiled awkwardly at her, hoping that she didn't pick up on his mistake.

"I know that blood status doesn't matter anymore, being muggle-born doesn't make a difference, but during those times…" He shook his head, leaning forwards onto the fence in front of him, hiding his face from view "It made things a lot harder. I'm sure a lot of people regret how they treated you back then."

He could feel her eyes on him but didn't look around for fear of another mistake. She couldn't find out who he was, not with him being a wanted Death Eater.

"Did you go to Hogwarts?" Her voice was soft and he heard her walking forwards so she that she was standing closer him.

"Yeah. I was in my last year during the battle." He stopped. Why was he telling her this? He was putting himself in danger, but he didn't seem to be able to stop himself.

"What house were you in?"

He hesitated before replying to her and hoped she hadn't noticed.

"...Slytherin" He had said it before even thinking about the answer. He needed to get a grip and stop telling her the truth! "And I'm not bloody proud of it!" he added more defiantly. This was also true.

"I don't think we've ever met, have we?" Did she know? After all the lessons their houses had shared, she was bound to notice that nobody in the class met his description… He hesitated for even longer before he shook his head. She'd definitely noticed this time.

"I... I was home-schooled." He said, turning to face her, now leaning with his back on the fence, wanting to see her reaction. "You know, until they forced everyone to go to Hogwarts."

Now she could see his face properly, he got a strange feeling looking at her. If he wasn't so good at Occlumancy he would've sworn that she was trying to read his mind.

"If you don't mind my asking, what's your name?"

Crap! Why hadn't he thought up a new name yet?

"No. Not at all... I guess I should have mentioned it before now." He hesitated once more before eventually finding the name he'd used last time he'd used this form. "Tom, Tom Spink."

"I would tell you mine, but you seem to already know who I am." she commented now leaning against the tree so that she was standing right opposite him.

"Look, I know this doesn't mean much," He said, looking into her eyes for the first time. Had she always had doe-brown eyes? "But I'm really sorry for everything that happened to you."

He couldn't read her reaction properly, she seemed surprised but she clearly understood what he was saying. Did she know the full meaning of it? Did she know that he was apologizing for all the things he'd done to her?

He shifted uncomfortably as her gaze fell on his left arm. It appeared that she had understood at least part of what he meant.

Slowly, he pulled back his left sleeve. Safe - as long as the Polyjuice Potion didn't wear off.

She let out a grateful sigh of relief as she saw his unmarked skin. Quickly, he pulled his sleeve back down, fearing that somehow she might see through the potion's effects. He stood up from the fence and looked back down at Hogsmeade.

"I suppose you've got a right to be suspicious," he commented, figuring it was best to leave before she managed to piece it together. "I guess I should be going anyway."

"I'm sorry if I've offended you." She sounded so sincere; he didn't want to leave her.

"No. Even I had been a Death Eater, I wouldn't have been a good one. I don't think I'd be able to do anything too bad." He smiled sadly, hoping this was true. He had been a bad Death Eater, hadn't he? He hadn't killed anyone, and when he'd had the chance to expose Granger, Potter and Weasley he hadn't taken it. "Well, it was nice seeing you again. I'm glad everything turned out alright. You know, in the end."

He looked her over one last time and started walking back into Hogsmeade, leaving her to stare after him as he turned the corner and pulled his hood back over his face.