All he could was keep running. Running from his lord, from the mark on his arm, from those green eyes that haunted him when he slept.
He was in Tahiti now, but he knew he would have to leave soon or they would find him. They. He couldn't even use their names. His former allies, who he had believed in, until he had a glimpse into their world. He didn't want that. Not for himself, and not for anyone.
And so he ran. He knew that either side would kill him on sight, so he stayed out of any towns, and he could not go to his former enemies, the people he knew were in the right. But he had sent a letter, pages and pages, explaining everything and giving all the information he had. He only hoped that they believed him, and didn't think it was a lie. He had lied his entire life, and he didn't want to do it anymore.
There was a thickening in the air, and a small pop. He had been found again. So Draco apparated out of the cave.
Green eyes glowed in the darkness. Harry sighed.
"I wonder if he'll ever figure out that it's over," Hermione said, coming up behind him.
Draco didn't know it, but he was running from the truth.