Draco shook his head. "Just kip in the alley, usually."
                              
"How old 're yeh?"
                              
"Twenty?" he said, uncertainly. He wasn't sure anymore.
                              
"Wha's yer name?"
                              
"I-I don't have one," he said. He had no idea who these people were. Names were dangerous.
                              
The Scot patted his shoulder. "Aye, sum of us don' 'ither. Call me, Murtagh. Lad, 'ow long 'ave yeh bin blind?"
                              
"Just a few months..." he whispered and curled up defensively.
                              
"Wha' 'appened?"
                              
He shook his head and started crying. "I don't know. They wouldn't admit me." St. Mungo's had laughed and told him that they refused to admit any Death Eaters unless it was life-threatening. They had the law on their side this time.
                              
"Card-Nazis... ID! ID! All they want is ID," growled another muggle from a corner, though Draco had no idea what he was talking about.
                              
"Lad... you kin stay 'ere every nigh' if yeh want, as long as yeh don' make trouble."
                              
"Well... I-I have nightmares... attacks...."
                              
"Some of us do, too, lad. Bu' I meant thievin'... from us," Murtagh said.
                              
"I wouldn't."
                              
"Yeh kin 'ave Lester's spot. He gat pinched las' week."
                              
And that's how it went. They showed him his spot, gave him a blanket and his stick back, and never hurt him. He felt safe sleeping in the hole under the bridge, but he couldn't talk to anyone. He didn't understand what they were talking about most of the time. The Scot did seem the most protective of him. Woke him up when he was having a bad one and offered to talk about it. Draco never did or never went too deep. Just some basic stuff... parents gone, no home, arrested, people hurt him, but he didn't go into the details.
                              
Now, Murtagh was asking him to explain why he had come home early. As he never liked to stay inside. Draco shook his head. "No, it was just a... cop."
                              
Murtagh humphed. "Laddie... 're yeh on the run?"
                              
"No, but I'm on probation."
                              
"And yeh walked out on yer PO?" the muggle pressed.
                              
Draco shook his head, again. "No, I just can't get into trouble."
                              
Murtagh snorted. He was surely confused since the muggles didn't have a civil war. The Scot went back to his area of the hole in the wall, and Draco pulled out the sandwich and slowly unwrapped it. He smelled it, and it was fresh. He was glad for that and ate half of it, contently, and saved the rest for later. Draco hated coming back early. All he had was his thoughts to pass the time, and his thoughts were generally not kind. He was alone, blind and trapped, and no one cared if he lived or died. He didn't have a name anymore, a family or a future.
                              
It had been almost nine months since he had been hit with a curse that left him blind. It had been two years since he lost his rights as a wizard and as a human. It had been over three since he lost his innocence and watched someone die. He didn't think he had anything going for him, now. There was no way out of this, but he had to survive. His mother was still alive, though she wouldn't get out of prison for ten years. He had to stay alive for her.
                              
Potter had testified for her, but it came out that after Draco's failure at the tower, Voldemort wanted him to kill a muggle that they captured. His mother had killed the man for him, much to the Dark Lord's displeasure, and he tortured her excessively for it. All because Draco couldn't bring himself to kill a hapless muggle. The Ministry grudging gave her twelve years instead of the Kiss his father received. Potter had testified for him, too, and since his crimes mainly were underage, he got a few months in Azkaban. They stripped him of his rights to practice magic, confiscated his assets, and effectively kicked him out of the wizarding world.
                              
Draco might have been able to handle it. He might have left the country, moved in with Blaise and Theo in Italy, or even transitioned to the muggle world. However, it wasn't too long after he finished his six-month sentence when it happened. He was leaving Gringotts one day in November, confirming that every account had been seized, when he was hit with a curse that he couldn't block or undo. People nearby laughed at his blindness and shoved him to the ground. Some guys even dragged him to an alley, beat him and took everything he had. It was a miracle that he survived the weeks after that.
                              
He was forgotten, now. Name gone. No one would remember him for anything but being a Death Eater. Most probably assumed he was in Azkaban or dead. He felt like he was dead. He pulled off his blindfold and let the tears fall down.