AN: Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter :(
This story is set post war, and is not compatible with the epilogue of the Deathly Hallows.
Life Goes On
Chapter 1 - Draco's Story
Draco Malfoy sat looking out of the window at the view that was now home. Of all the ways his life could have turned out, this was not what he or his family had ever had in mind, yet he was happy, and he loved it.
He remembered how growing up, all he knew was pureblood and death eater propaganda and how his life was written for him on the day he was born. He was born to be a death eater, to follow his chosen path and live up to the Malfoy name.
He remembered the beating, the curses, and the constant tales of what he was to believe. He remembered the one time he questioned his father, and the crucio curse he received in return. He was 6. The memory still made him shudder as he remembered the pain.
He remembered the lecture he received on the eve of starting Hogwarts on what it meant to be a Malfoy, on how he should act, who he should talk to, and most importantly how he was to treat Harry Potter. He remembered the many lectures he received about Harry Potter, how he was the enemy, and how he was to make his life as hard as possible.
After the "incident" at the Department of Memories at the Ministry of Magic everything changed. Lucius Malfoy made a mistake, a mistake many expected him to pay for with his life, but he didn't. Instead his family paid. He remembered being told he was getting the dark mark and being made a death eater at only 17. It was an honour his father told him. He knew it wasn't, he knew it was all because of his father and the mistake he had made, and so did his mother. He could still remember her crying, arguing with his father, asking him to do anything he could, but he refused. If allowing Draco to become a death eater would get him back in the Dark Lord's good books, he would let it happen. Power was all that Lucius Malfoy cared about.
He remembered being given his task immediately after getting the dark mark, to kill Albus Dumbledore. He shuddered, again, as he remembered that year. It was the worst year of his life. He knew what he had to do, but he didn't want to. Yet he put his heart and soul into the task, for himself and his mother. He knew failure meant death for him, and he knew that would kill his mother. It was at this point that he realised just how evil Voldemort was, and just how delusional. Using him to get back at his father was an evil thing to do but it would have been much worse if his father actually cared about him. It was his mother that suffered.
He remembered her death, just after the war. His father had been sent to Azkaban and she also faced a trial. He remembered the statement from Harry Potter declaring that she lied to Voldemort during the final battle, which saved his life and led to the final conflict and his subsequent victory. This saved her from prison, he knew that, but she had been through so much, it was almost as if she just gave up.
Once she knew he was ok, and that he was safe, she died. He didn't blame her. In many ways he was relieved that she was free of all of the suffering and finally at peace.
After the war, he took some time out. He headed away from London, he wanted to be somewhere where no one knew anything about the war, who he was, what he'd done, or what his family stood for. He wanted some time to figure out who he was and what he believed.
He'd travelled to many different places around the world, learning about each of them, and learning more about himself. For once he could make decisions about what he wanted. It took some getting used to.
He had arrived in Sydney, Australia two years ago. He had spent many days exploring the city and its surrounding beaches.
He was currently sitting in the Teahouse at the Chinese Gardens. It was a place he had found on his first day, and he had come back as he found it the perfect place to think. He hadn't walked through the gardens when he entered, he headed straight to the Teahouse.
As he looked across the pond he saw a beautiful woman who took his breath away. He watched as she wandered around the garden, apparently as in awe of its beauty, as he was of her. He saw her stop and talk to a couple, also wandering about the garden, and then the trio moved out of his sight.
He knew she had to come through the Teahouse to leave, so he knew he would see her again, and a lot more close up. He sat waiting in anticipation for her to pass by him.
He was surprised when the woman arrived with the couple she had been talking to earlier. They sat at a table just along from him, so he had the perfect view. The man with them went to order, and it was at that point he saw the resemblance between the woman and the couple. They had to be related.
He looked at her more closely, glad he was wearing his dark sunglasses so that she couldn't see where he was looking. He was also grateful that she sat directly in his view, if he chose to look at the bridge over the pond, which was the direction in which he was currently looking. It was perfect he thought, as even if he was caught looking at her, he could always say he was admiring the view, which he most certainly was.
She had warm brown hair that seemed to have a natural wave, which was pulled back into a loose ponytail. She was wearing a yellow sundress, that showed her curves, which he thought were perfect. As she pushed her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head, he gasped. He saw her beautiful big brown eyes, and immediately recognised her. It was Hermione Granger.
Luckily the man returned with their tea at the same time so no one heard his gasp. He sat there not being able to take his eyes off her, wondering if she realised he was there. Following the war he had cast a charm on his hair to make it more of a sandy blonde, than the white blonde it was. His skin now also had more of a natural colour than the pasty colour it was at school. He'd found it easier to be his own person now that he wasn't instantly recognisable as a Malfoy.
He went to pour another cup of tea, only to realise he had finished it. He stood, took his paper, and left. He needed time to think, and he could no longer do it there, as he was drawn to her, and she was consuming his thoughts.
Draco wandered around all day trying to figure out what to do. This was the first time he had met someone relating to his old life, his previous life. The life he had spent so long running from.
He knew Hermione didn't know who he was, or that he was there, and he could just move on with his life. He could keep running. But he was drawn to her. Did he want to keep running?
This was the question that had gone round and round in his head all day.
Draco headed back to his apartment, still totally unsure of what to do. Maybe it will make sense in the morning, he thought.
AN: so this chapter is kind of setting the scene, pls stay with it :)