Prolog
Third person
Six months had passed since the end of the second wizarding war; death eaters had infiltrated so deeply into the government that it had taken all this time to be able to ensure that they’d all been located.
Draco stood before the Wizengamot awaiting his sentence. Form what he knew most of the death eaters had been sentenced to execution or Azkaban. He had been expecting the latter because no fate was worse than Azkaban and the Malfoy’s had been in Voldemort’s circle for a long, long time. “Draco Malfoy.” Draco looked up with bloodshot eyes through messy platinum blond locks. “You have been sentenced to banishment please hand over your wand.” Banishment meant no magic and life around muggles any breach in this would result in a one-way trip to Azkaban.
If Draco had been a younger version of himself, it would have been a worse sentence then death, but he’d grown up quite a bit in his short time as a death eater. He knew this was a light sentence compared to what he deserved. Dumbledore’s death weighed heavy on his mind, along with all the other things he’d seen and done while in Voldemort’s service.
Draco wouldn’t know it, but it was Harry who had suggested it. “Draco has so much potential he could be a great wizard, better yet he could be a good man, but Draco needs to get over his hang-ups about blood purity, maybe living with muggles would be good for him.”